#and figuring out how to stop it is not worth stopping it bc you’re surprisingly into it

[total-mkulia]

Been thinking about gweather a lot lately, folks

[jewishtwig]

hi, im starting the conversion process and i have 3 concerns about it i was wondering if i could get your opinion on bc i feel like there isn’t a huge online jewish community and especially not for converts (but it’s fine if you don’t have anything to say i get it)

the first is that im struggling to figure out how to tell my family about my want to convert. i was raised atheist and am honestly still pretty atheist/agnostic, just not completely. my father is a climate scientist who is very anti-religion in general (but mostly generalizes all religion as christian, you know, as ppl do), and i’m worried he’ll think it’s a phase, because once when he was around my age he started attending church for a girl he was dating only to abandon it later and regret it totally. i don’t think he’s antisemitic but i don’t think he’ll be super enthused in general about me wanting to be jewish just bc it means i’d be religious

the second one is that i was invited to visit a synagogue near me for shabbat services and i’m really looking forward to it, but i looked on their website and said they want all men who visit to wear a kippah regardless of whether or not they are jewish. do you think it would be inappropriate to buy one of my own instead of using one of the ones they offer at the synagogue if i just wore it while visiting for services?

finally (sorry this is a lot i might just need to get it out of my system tbh), i talked to a rabbi (as mentioned above) and she told me to convert with any synagogue in my state i’d need to take a very specific intro to judaism course that doesn’t start until almost a year from now. is it irrational to be upset i have to wait so long? i was sitting on the idea of reaching out to a rabbi about conversion for almost a year, so to finally do it and be told i just have to wait more, after i get the guts to stop waiting, kinda sucks. but i’m worried if i express my concerns to the rabbi she’ll interpret that as me being too eager and impatient?? i’m not sure

Hello! No need to apologize! It’s an important thing to consider. I’m glad you found an answer on my blog already 😊

There is actually a surprisingly large online community of converts and converts in progress! (I’ll make a poll about it in a bit because now I’m curious.)

Okay on to your first second question, I don’t think it would necessarily be inappropriate per say but I wouldn’t advise it yet for a couple of reasons.

1. You don’t know what style of kippah you like yet and wearing the ones they provide is a good way to test them out.

2. You’re not going to be wearing it outside of shul and they have them there for you for free.

3. There are many different styles and sizes and this community may have a style they prefer that you aren’t aware of yet. (That’s not to say you can’t wear other styles but it’s something to consider)

4. You don’t need to. They have them there for you to use.

5. A secret fifth thing I can’t quite put my finger on which makes this feel not quite right to me. 

Next question, it’s definitely not irrational to be upset. That’s a very rational feeling to have. However, conversion is a long process. For many people, it takes several years because of things like waiting for classes or a Rabbi to be available. Conversion is a lifetime commitment. If you have to wait one more year and then get to be Jewish for the rest of your life, is it worth it to you?

You can tell the Rabbi if you want, but if that’s the only class and it’s required, then it is what it is.

[sweet-honey-fruit]

heeello there, i just got done having the biggest cry i've had in awhile so i've come to ask for some comfort with itto, gorou, heizou and scara if possible comforting their s/o (preferrably gn) who's hiding away having a breakdown bc they're the designated therapist friend everyone goes to for support while they have no one to support them. Ty for your time and sorry for throwing this on ya

I’m sorry to hear that dear, I hope you’re feeling okay. And I’m sorry for getting to this so late. I understand how you feel, I too was a designated therapist friend, so this hits close to home. I’m more than happy to provide you some comfort ❤️. I’m sorry Scara’s is so short, I couldn’t see him do anything else other than violence dfjfdngfd.

Genshin Men Comforting Therapist Friend Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Warnings: toxic friendships, implied violence (scara), manipulation (heizou, not towards reader), mentions of spreading STI’s (heizou)

Gorou

Gorou was starting to get worried when he couldn’t find you anywhere. With everything being tense between the Shogunate and the Resistance, he was starting to think of the worst possible scenarios that could've led to your disappearance

But when Kokomi came up to him and said that you were hiding in her own hiding place crying, he felt a sense of dread and relief. Relief because you were still here and not kidnapped by the Shogunate. Dread because, well, you’re hiding and crying

He rushed over to you immediately, and prompted to comfort now and ask questions later

He held you to his chest, tail wrapping around your waist as he hushed you, rocking you back and forth

His presence alone was enough to make you calm down a little

He even let you pet his ears to help you stop, and it worked surprisingly

His eyes scanned you over as you played with his ears, seeing if there were any physical injuries plaguing your skin

When he was sure you were okay in that aspect, he whispered out, “What has gotten my beloved upset? If you wish to tell me, then please do. But I won’t rush you either. I’m here to help.”

His words almost made you start crying again. Finally, someone who is caring for you

Gorou is lowkey panicking when you start to tear up again

But when the words spill from your mouth about how people you delcared as friends in the Resistance are using you for emotional support without providing back, he finds it hard to hold back a growl

His arms hold you tighter, playing with your hair. He’s going through every logical solution to the problem, but he keeps circling back to snapping at the ‘friends’ that left you in such a state

Once you’ve calmed down a bit, he’s carrying you back to the shrine, whispering words of encouragment

Saying how good you are, that you’re such an amazing person. That you’re worth it, you’re more than a therapist. You’re sweet, kind, loving, and worth fighting for

He sits down with Kokomi to talk about the issue once he sees you getting some much needed rest

They both come up with a plan to form a seminar about the importance of caring just as much as being cared for

Gorou is glaring at a specific group of people throughout the whole thing

Heizou

Heizou was about to form a search party with the whole Tenryou Commission when he came home and you weren’t there

He’s normally level headed, prompting to think things through way before flying off the handle. But when it comes to you? His first instinct is to internally freak out

Once he managed to calm himself down and start thinking rationally again, he started going through more logical reasonings as to what happened. And knowing you, he can figure it out quite easily

Ever the clever little detective, he boiled it down to one possible situation: An emotional event happened that caused you to seclude yourself. With that being said, he knows you’re somewhere in Inazuma City considering how you couldn’t have gone too far. Further thinking, he knew the exact place you’d go: Under the cliff side down by the harbor.

As always, he was correct. Seeing you leaning against the rocks with a blank look, tears staining your flushed cheeks. He’s never seen you so defeated and heartbroken before. It shattered his heart to see you like that

Prompting to keep up with his flirty boy persona, he walks up to you with a beaming smile “There’s my dreamy love, what’s gotten you so down in the dumps?”

At first you’re truly adament on not telling him, trying to say that you’re fine. you’re okay. That you’re just overreacting and he doesnt need to worry

And to that he’s saying bullshit. He’ll get it out of you one way or another. He’s good at that considering how that’s practically part of his job description

Slowly but surely, he’ll work you to slipping up, ending up venting to him about how exhausted you are. How you’re just tired of being used to solve your ‘friends’ problems. Tired of the toxic mentality they’re leading you to believe. You’re. Just. So. Tired

The whole time he’s listening attentively, holding you close and kissing your temple every now and then. He’s secrelty plotting what to do with these…friends of yours

He coaxs you to allow him to carry you back home. He’ll lay you in bed, cuddle with you, and wait till you’re asleep to slip back out again

He finds the people that put you through so much pain and oh boy is he making sure they don’t hurt you again. Lets just say he did some back ground checks on them

“Unless you want the whole city to know that you two are the reason for the STI pandemic a couple of months ago, then I suggest you, how do I put this? Be more mindful of people’s feelings, yeah?”

Although he recommends you get new friends all together. He’ll even introduce you to Yoimiya!

Scaramouche

He. Is. Raising. Hell.

No one is coming out alive, I’m sorry

Not when he stumbles upon you curled up on the bathroom floor and baaling (haha) your eyes out

Not when you’re so hysterical from the amount of emotional and mental build up from those who you call friends caused you

Leaving you out to dry when you’ve done everything for them? That’s rich, especially for the guy who uses people for his own benefits for a leaving

Maybe if it was someone else, he would congratulate them on a job well done

But since it’s you, the one and only person he cherishes, he’s losing his mind

The most he’ll do to comfort you is to lead you back to bed and drape a blanket over you, allowing you to cry it out

Comfort is his weak point, he doesn’t really know how. But what he does know what to do is to cause pain

And pain he will cause

He’s marching over to them, a wicked grin on his face

To save the gory details, lets just say he used them as target practice

When he comes back, all he says is “You’re going to need new ‘friends.’ Or, just, don’t have any at all. They’re pathetic anyway.”

[arcanadreams]

Water Fights with the OM Bros

it’s 90 degrees outside at my place and you know what that means!!! water fight headcanons because I refuse to go outside in the heat in real life asdhgskjdgks

once again i’m only doing the brothers bc i do not trust myself with the dateables just yet lmao

Lucifer:

Literally only agrees to join because you’re so excited about it.

“...If it makes you happy, MC,” are his exact words. Simp.

You did agree to make the game have no points though, to keep things from getting competitive. Both at the advice of Lucifer and because you knew he would not join if there was any chance he could lose. (Also because Satan is a menace but we’ll get to that later.)

When all the brothers are gathered he suggests everyone pairs up into teams. 

“You’re only saying that so you can cozy with M-” Asmo tries to say before being sprayed in the face with water.

“My hair!” “Oh, look at that. I suppose the game has started,” Lucifer hides his water gun behind his legs, but he can’t hide the shit eating grin on his face.

He takes your hand with a “Come along, MC,” and leads you away as everyone splits up.

You two make a surprisingly good team for this sort of thing! He knows the gardens well and also knows where each of his brothers is likely to go. You are quite skilled water water guns and balloons. He’s basically the brains and you’re the brawn. 

He snatches a few kisses now and then when you look back at him excitedly after smacking one of his brothers with a balloon. You’re just so cute!

When everyone is all tuckered out and goes off to shower and whatever, Lucifer hangs back with you to thank you for organizing everything. With a kiss to the back of your hand, he says, “I’ll admit, I was...skeptical, at first. But, as usual, you brought my brothers together in a way I haven’t seen in a long while. Thank you, MC.” 

Mammon:

“I’m MC’s first man, so I get to team with them!” “You’re also literally my boyfriend, but okay hun.” Cue Mammon blushing beet red at the nickname and muttering at you not to call him that in front of his brothers. (He doesn’t mean it; he loves that they know you’re his and vice versa.)

Strategically, the two of you are the absolute worst. But that’s because you’re both just there to have fun!

And have fun you do! You actually get in quite a few fun chases with Levi! He’s probably the most into the water fight out of everyone, the three of you are just running around the gardens pelting each other with balloons. It’s super cute.

Mammon is absolutely the type to yell “I’ll avenge you, MC!” every single time you get sprayed. 

Eventually, you and Mammon follow Levi’s advice and start hiding in places to catch some of the other brothers by surprise. Which would be fine if Mammon didn’t blush super hard and start grumbling because of how close together you were when kneeling behind the garden wall.

You roll your eyes and surge forward to kiss him. He’s so shocked he has no idea what to do with his hands at first. But, after a second of pause, his water gun falls to the ground with a clatter and he wraps his arms around you.

“Get a room,” Is all the two of you hear before Belphie dumps a whole ass bucket of water on your heads. Mammon growls and jumps up to get the youngest before Beel can scoop him up, but you grab his hand and stop him. 

You’re laughing super hard, and the sun is shining on your hair. You almost look like you have a halo...Mammon gives up the chase before it even starts because his MC is simply ethereal. 

“Mammon!” You smile brilliantly at him when you finally stop laughing. “I kissed you to keep you quiet! And then you managed to make even more noise!” 

He just hugs you then so you can’t see his blushing face. Stupid lovely human making fun of him. (He likes it, though.)

Leviathan:

This boy is literally the MOST excited when you tell him your idea. He was in on it from the very start.

He actually helped you get all the supplies! He opens his Akuzon account right away and starts showing you what water guns would be best and picking out huge packs of balloons made specifically for being water grenades. (Definitely had looked all this stuff up before in case he found a LARPing buddy.)

You ask him how much Grimm all this stuff will cost and he tells you not to worry. “I’ll cover it!” “But, Levi-” He interrupts you with big blush on his face. 

“L-Listen MC. You’re m-my Henry! And I know this will be fun, s-so...I’ll cover it.” You leap forward and give him a hug, triggering a surprised but equally happy screech.

Honestly he is so excited you proposed an idea like that of your own volition. Like...it just makes him feel like all the games and stuff he finds fun truly don’t bother you. You haven’t been lying; you genuinely are interested in the same things as him. It makes him feel so warm.

When everyone is still arriving, you grab one of your water guns and do that cool spinny thing. You know the thing. The cowboy gun spin. You’re like, “Hey Levi! Check this out!” 

BAM. Boy is OUT. So red his face is steaming. That’s the hottest thing he has ever seen in his entire damn life. What the fuck, MC. He is basically frozen on the spot out of sheer overwhelmed-ness as how hot that was. You have to drag him away when the water fight starts. Totally worth staying up all night figuring out how to do the spin trick with a water gun.

Once the action gets going, you two are unstoppable. No one escapes the fight unscathed thanks to y’all. All those late night Call of Duty sessions trained you for this!!

Your favorite tactic is definitely camping, though. You and Levi would pick a spot and hide there, waiting for one of his brothers to come by, and then...ATTACK!

If it actually were a competition, you two would’ve won by a landslide. But honestly, Levi didn’t really keep track. He was having too much fun watching you. You were so mesmerizing when you were in the zone and so gorgeous when laughing as you gave him victory high fives after a successful ambush. 

You let him take a picture of you posing all tough with your water gun and he makes it his DDD background immediately. And his lockscreen so you can protect his DDD from intruders.

Satan:

THIS ASSHOLE. THIS MAN IS THE REASON YOU MADE SURE THERE WAS NO COMPETITION.

If there was any sense of competition, Satan would’ve gone absolutely out of his mind to beat Lucifer. He would make sure to destroy that man’s dignity as thoroughly as possible.

So, for the sake of both him and the eldest brother, no points. No contest. He grumbles about it, but, much like said eldest brother, he still joins because he sees how happy the idea of a family water fight makes you.

 Satan treats is almost as seriously as Levi does. EVEN THOUGH YOU MADE SURE IT WASN’T A COMPETITION, HE DAMN SURE STILL ACTS LIKE IT IS. UGH.

Literally pulls a map of the House of Lamentation’s gardens out of his back pocket??? And puts it on the side of the fountain?? And starts planning maneuvers on it with you??? He pulls a pen out of his SWIM TRUNK POCKETS to use to point with and emphasize his points. You just blink at him. This is your mans. Good lord.

Considering his expert knowledge of the layout of the entire surrounding area of HoL from that map, he actually knows of some secret passages the other brothers don’t even consider. He takes you to them so you can use them to spy on what Lucifer’s the other brothers’ strategies are.

It’s only once you’re creeping around the tunnels that he realizes something: none of his brothers know where you are. They can’t bother you...time to make out.

Grabs your attention with a quiet, “MC” and gives you a smooch. Soon enough he is backing you up against the wall. A water balloon you have tied to your belt pops against the rough brick, interrupting the two of you.

Satan disregards it and move to kiss you again, but you let out a gasp. He’s worried for you for a moment: did you scrape yourself? But when you turn to look at him, there’s a mischievous glint in your eye that he loves to see. 

“My water broke!” You whisper-exclaim dramatically, covering your mouth in fake shock. Satan has to nuzzle his face in your neck to avoid laughing and filling the tunnel with the echo that would alert his brothers. The two of you basically just canoodle in the passages until the water fight is over LMAO

Asmodeus:

Pretty much just to show off how good he looks in a bathing suit to you and anyone else who happens to be lucky enough to witness his glory.

He’s not the best at water fights and ends up using you as a human shield sometimes adjgfkjshf

“Asmo! Stop hiding behind me!” “I am not letting Lucifer mess up my hair twice in one day, darling!”

He comments quite often on how hot you look. Both in your bathing suit and also when in the zone looking for victims to douse in watery fury. You look like an action hero, MC! Have you ever thought about becoming the next Bond? Asmo could definitely pull some hypnotic strings.~

Every time you successfully pull him out of the way of an oncoming water balloon or block a blast of water from hitting, he totally melts. He presses his back to your chest, swooning against you and batting his eyelashes.

“Oh, MC, my hero! My dashing knight in shining armor!” You scoff, but think it’s super cute. You even play into it sometimes and pick him up bridal style.

“The king is looking for you, my prince,” you say once as you lift him, and he actually blushes. Asmodeus, avatar of lust, blushes at a silly pet name. He was not expecting you to get so into the role!!! He loves it, though.

For the rest of the water fight the two of you are basically roleplaying a royal and his knight bodyguard. It is stupidly fun and the both of you have an absolute blast.

“Oh, MC, my darling knight! I have amazing news!” Asmo says after the fight ends. You’re drying his hair off with a towel. “Yes, my liege?” 

“In exchange for your wonderful and dutiful protection, you have been given permission by the crown to court me! Isn’t that wonderful?” He smiles and you throw your head back in a laugh. You lean down and give him a nice, long kiss on the lips before pulling away. “That is absolutely splendid, your highness.”

Beelzebub:

He loves the idea because it’ll get his whole family together and he knows it. He has to carry Belphie out there but that’s normal.

He helped you and Levi plan!! Excited boy. You filled him in when he joined you and Levi for a game night. He totally volunteered to go get some extra supplies from some nearby stores for y’all. So cute.

Once everyone is actually fighting, this boy WILL NOT STOP BEING A HUMAN (demon?) SHIELD FOR YOU. LIKE NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU TELL HIM IT’S FINE, YOU’RE FINE, HE WILL NOT STOP.

“Babycakes, it’s okay. It’s water. It can’t hurt me.” “But I love you. I want you safe.” O H. O K A Y.

Someone call a doctor Beel just shot MC through the heart!!! He’s so genuine you just bright red and kiss his cheek because he deserve it.

“Well, I guess that’s settled then, huh?” He gives you a big Beel smile and nods, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Y’all get sprayed with water A LOT because your hungry boy is very big and hard to hide. Er, I should say HE gets sprayed a lot because he is a fantastic meat shield and you’re practically dry by the time the fight is over. He, on the other hand, is soaked to the bone.

He still insists on drying you off with a towel, though. The two of you dry each other off back in the twins’ room while Belphie dozes nearby in his bed.

You’re in the middle of drying his shoulders when he just starts talking. “That was really fun, MC. I’m really grateful for you. Ever since you’ve been here, things are always more fun. And you bring all my brother together. Thank you.” 

You damn near burst into tears!!! Ahhhh!!! You sniffle and jump into his nap, wrapping your arms around him. “But MC, I’m still wet.” “I don’t care!! I’m giving you snuggles!!”

Belphegor:

Literally does not give a single fuck about a water fight until he realizes it lets him throw shit at Lucifer with absolutely zero consequences. Then he is all in.

Beel doesn’t even have to carry him around during the fight! Once he is outside and realizes all the shenanigans he can pull, he is perfectly content to grab you by the hand and be the one dragging you around, for once!

You two will probably team up with Satan and Beel at various points. Beel because he’s Beel, and Satan because he and Belphie absolutely set water balloon filled booby traps for Lucifer.

That’s his preferred strategy: set up a trap and wait in the bushes, watching for the target to approach.

He’s definitely the type to yell “Every man for himself!” if someone catches you guys hiding. Unlike his twin, he lets you get totally soaked while he runs away laughing. Dickweed.

You guys have a lot of fun, though!! Seeing Belphie excited is always a treat for you. And, though he doesn’t say anything about it, Belphie also thinks it’s a treat whenever you scheme with him. You don’t join in on his mischief often, so he always cherishes the times you do.

Eventually, after soaking Lucifer thoroughly, Belphie eventually gets a bit tired. You, however, want to keep the fun going. So, just as he begins to dose off in your hiding spot...you spray him. Right in the face. 

He opens his eyes and sees you raising an eyebrow at him challengingly, giggling to yourself. He growls playfully and grabs his own water gun, quickly giving chase as you bolt. 

Being a demon, he’s much quicker than you. But he lets you think you can escape for a few minutes before catching up to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

As you squirm and laugh in his embrace, he feels thankful he joined in on the fight, even if he was hesitant at first. After all, it led to this moment, where he can turn you around in his arms and give you a nice kiss as you melt against his chest.

[ff-imagines]

uhm this is embarrassing thing to request but,,,,,,, how bout u know,,,,,, nsfw alphabet/scenario/hcs with blobster. 👁️👄👁️. I'm sorry.

Boston lobster: nsfw alphabet

Minors dni xoxo

A - aftercare

Admittedly kinda sloppy, it doesn’t occur to him that he should probably check up on you till he’s like “oh shit humans need water” and he suddenly shoots up to grab some and come back to you lmao

If you explicitly ask you get no back talk from him, he just carries you where you need to be and makes sure you’re feeling alright.

Will be endlessly prideful if u say you can’t walk, express your soreness at your sanities risk bc he’ll bring it up for ages

B- body parts

Oh he’s got no shame to tell you he loves your ass and thighs. The type to walk by you and give you a tap on the ass while smirking to himself. Doesn't matter how much or how little you've got he’ll still ask at least once if he can fuck your thighs lmao

Does his height count? He loves how he towers over most humans and food souls alike, chances are he’s probably taller than you, and he really likes that. Sulks a bit if you’re actually taller than him lmao.

They aren’t his favourite part of him but I gotta talk about the antennae. They’re weirdly sensitive, pulling him makes him squeak, which ends with him chasing you or with him chasing you, take your pick. When he catches you he makes it his goal to find a weirdly sensitive part of your body and to tease that spot endlessly. Tickle fight ensues but it’s more like you’re suffering while he’s maniacally laughing above you.

C - cum

It’s thick as fuck and very salty, rip lmao

He likes to cum inside or on your thighs, look they’re very squishy and nice ok he can’t help it </3

He’s also obsessed with not only making you cum, but just… your cum. Amab or afab readers, he will delight in making you watch him swallow. Would also bring his hand up to make you taste yourself, grinning the whole damn way.

D - dirty secret

He’s really affected by scents. If you have a signature perfume or cologne you wear all the time it can make him unbearably horny, since the smell lingers on his sheets and on his clothes long after you’re gone.

E - experience

A fair amount, out of curiosity. Not too many times as he’s spent a lot of years in total isolation. His curiosity is a more recent development, he finds he likes the feeling but something is just missing from his hookups. Then he meets you and is like “ohhhh a relationship is what it was, damn.” Once he realizes that, and even a little bit before when he first starts noticing his internal unease, the hookups stop so he can figure out how to swallow his pride and try and ask a human out lmao

F - favorite position

He loves doggy style because it’s just so so easy to control you that way. He loves to pull you back by your arms, spearing inside you at a punishing pace.

He also would love if you were flexible enough to push into a mating press, getting right next to your ear, whispering about how close he is.

G - goofy

Surprisingly, yea! He’s actually pretty good at making fun of himself, he just doesn’t do it often and doesn’t like it when someone he’s not close to does it. He gives little teases here and there, it eases tension quite a lot.

H- hair

He doesn’t shave for shit lmao. Intense happy trail, intense amount of body hair over all, he actually prefers it that way.

He keeps the same energy with your body hair and will come out and tell you he kinda likes it if you don’t shave. Ultimately he doesn’t think on it too hard, it doesn’t bother him in the end, whatever you want, he wants too!

I- intimacy

He’s not so good at being truly intimate, it’s just not something he’s used to being. If you ever, by some miracle, convince him to let you top him, he’s actually a lot softer and it’s easier to let his feelings speak for him. He also discovers he likes getting dommed a lot but he won’t tell you that lmao

J- jerk off

Not too often, he’s either super busy or he could just find you and solve the problem in an even more satisfying way.

If he ever can’t, expect him to grab one of your shirts to press to his nose as he fists his cock, the feeling of being surrounded by you is enough to help him finish when he desperately needs it.

K- Kinks

Well, the scent thing ofc.

He’s really into risky sex, a true exhibitionist. He’s hot, you’re hot, who wouldn’t want to see you both put on a show? If it gets it into their heads that no matter how bad they want you, you belong to him, your place is right here, getting split apart on his cock, he’ll make sure the message gets across.

Huge breeding kink. Hates the idea of kids but really likes the idea of claiming your insides. He’d love to push you into the mattress and release as deep as he can go.

He’s into humiliation as well, let him tease you while calling you his sweet little whore, he'll make it worth your while.

He’d love if you let him tie you up, he’d probably get into doing fancy designs that accentuates your body in the best way. A pretty rope to tie up and dick down a pretty s/o.

Also I can’t look at his skin where he’s got that suit on and not know he’s got a daddy kink, I just can’t. He doesn’t care for anything other than the title, it’s more about power than anything else. Call him daddy in public and watch how fast you get taken to a more private area. Or, maybe a less than private area, if you’d let him.

He’s got a thing for size difference as well, he loves to loom over you, even if he isn’t actually bigger than you.

L- location

Anywhere, anytime. He’s a prideful bastard, he’ll show off his ability to get you drunk off his cock any way he can. Not only isn’t there a spot in your house he hasn’t fucked you on, there probably isn’t a place on your street either.

M- motivation

What really gets him going is seeing you when you're at your most confident. If you come to him beaming about winning an award, wearing an outfit you feel great in, even if you just say something cocky, it just makes him so proud and eager to share that confidence with you. He doesn’t want to break you down, he wants to prop you up! Tell him about how good you feel, he’ll make you feel even better <3

N- no

As much as he likes to show you off, he doesn’t actually like the thought of a third party joining in. He might be swayed if it’s someone he really trusts. He also doesn't like receiving humiliation, he’s much too prideful lmao

O- oral

Please suck him off, he’ll be kinda rough with you but he’ll be nicer if you ask. He prefers to be mean though lmao. He likes ordering you around on what to do when you’ve got his dick in your mouth, his words get more incoherent the closer he is, though.

He’s just as eager to give you head too, he treats you like a whole 7 course meal. He loves biting around your thighs before ever touching where you're desperate for him to.

P- pace

Oh he’s punishingly hard. Loves to have a fast steady pace then stop as deep as he can and roll his hips a bit to make sure you feel just how deep his dick is inside you.

There are rare days when he’s feeling soft, those days he’s slow and methodical, gripping into your hips to make sure you can’t wiggle to increase your own pleasure, he wants you to savour the high he gives you.

Q- quickies

Well, why not! So what if you’re in an alleyway near a busy street, and anyone can walk by and see you getting pounded? You’re feeling heated aren’t you? Don't kid yourself, just turn around and let him take care of you.

R- risk

He lives for it. If you’d let him he’d bounce you on his cock in a plainly public place, like a subway car.

It’s a big fantasy of his for someone who absolutely pines for you to flirt just a little too hard, you coming to him and letting him fuck your right in front of them. It fuels his pride beyond belief to show you off.

S- stamina

His refractory time is fairly low. Even if he...can? doesn't really mean he wants to. He prefers either one drawn out, long round where you’ve both been edged to the point of desperation, or a few quick rounds throughout the day.

T- toys

At first they kinda hurt his pride but then he’s like “wait I can strap them on a vibrator and just sit back and watch” and then he’s totally on board lmao.

Forcing you to sit on a chair with a vibrator he had the remote to, keeping you on the edge and smirking while you beg and snivel, having no actual plans to give into your pleading.

U- unfair

Oh fuck yea, strap in babes.

He loves loves to edge the fuck out of you, he’d drag it out for hours if you’d let him. Even better if he can tie you down so you can’t squirm away from what he’s giving you.

Overstimulation is just as exciting to him, but he actually loves it more on himself. Sometimes he’ll overstimulate himself on purpose by still continuing to buck into you even after he’s already cum, determined to chase a second high no matter how painful it feels.

V- volume

Loud groans, and he won’t stop talking. Loves to ask you questions when you’re clearly way too blissed out to answer in any sort of coherent way.

He gets a lot louder near his release, he loves to bite into your shoulder to try and muffle himself. If he decides to be bold and let you hear him, he grabs your jaw and brings his face right next to your ear. What a show off.

W- wild card

He kidnaps small items that remind him of you, not just things that smell like you. That one earring you always wear, a glove, a necklace, picks flowers that remind him of you for whatever reason, he might even go out of his way to buy things that remind him of you, keep them to himself for a while, then give it to you when he’s sure it smells enough like him. He gives your stuff back… eventually.

X- X Ray

Oh please… he spits, sweats, and bleeds big dick energy. I refuse to believe his dick isn’t big enough to make you nervous. Would have you sit on his lap and track a finger up your stomach to measure how deep his cock can go.

Y- yearning

He’s pretty likely to mold to your sexual drive. However often you need him, he’s at your beck and call. He likes to keep it closer to 2-3 times a week if he can.

Z- zzz

He doesn’t sleep all that easily at all, but it gets a little easier when he’s got you in his arms. Prefers to be big spoon, and as much as he hates getting overheated, he just can’t will himself to let go of you. It’s ironically one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had.

[butterbeerblurbs]

feeling heavy in the strongest arms (f.w.)

💌 : today, your heart felt exceptionally heavy. fred holds your heart gently in his hands, willing to keep you in his arms even if he doesn’t know why you feel that way. as long as it makes you feel a little bit better, that was all fred was willing to take.

📝 word count: 1,786 words / fred weasley x reader / 🌸 ☔️ pretty sad feels but somewhat comforting...? idek

💬: i just pictured, this could be one of the way fred could comfort y/n when she’s feeling upset and there’s no direct reasoning (also bc i see fred as someone who’s sensible to someone’s emotions, especially someone he’s infatuated with ;w;)

from the moment fred’s eyes landed on you in the great hall to start off his morning, something didn’t quite sit right. sure, you gave him the usual smile that sends the tingles down his spine and the burst of warmth gently combusts within when he’s able to spare you a kiss on your cheek as you take your spot next to him but... still, something’s not right.

“g’morning pretty lady,” fred tries the playful method and anticipates for the usual look of “fake” disgust. it doesn’t happen. instead he gets a small smile, a chuckle, even though he feels like that’s the last thing you want to be doing. 

“good morning, freddie,”

yet, fred doesn’t think it’s all that good.

he lets it slide, deciding not to bring it up in the morning when... maybe, just maybe, you didn’t sleep well? he’s hoping for that to be the case (because then it’s another excuse to take a nap together) but... no. when hermione asks if you slept well, you said you slept like a baby. you slept through angelina’s bloody snoring. that only meant you did sleep well.

if it’s not sleep then... hm... could it be-”oi, what are you doing? thinking about eating your own girlfriend for breakfast instead of what’s in front of you?”

fred turns to a mirror of himself, raising a brow with a smirk, “do you really want me to answer that, georgie?”

george gags and looks away, “merlin, you’re going to make me vomit out what i just ate,”

fred hears your voice laughing at what you’ve managed to hear between him and his twin. but when he glances back and locks eyes with you for a moment, he still doesn’t buy that everything’s alright.

//

said ginger boy is still confused as the day continues.

he’s had hours to ponder upon this and the more he observes from you, the more confused he gets. his answers doesn’t match up with the way you were acting (yes, he has been staring at you for a rather long time than doing actual work). it’s like... you were fine? but not really? fine to the eyes of the public, tip-top shape but... nothing about you gets past fred weasley.

absolutely nothing. not when he’s spent days upon months that gathered into the years of learning about you, still surprising himself how much he’s able to love you more each day.

this... this was new.

he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. he’ll continue thinking about it if it wasn’t for-”mr. weasley, maybe you’ll be able to produce something of worth if you actually did the work,” snape’s voice stiffen’s fred’s spine, and snape’s hand physically pushes the nape of his neck down to get to work.

he’ll get down to this soon enough... after potion’s, it seems.

//

surprisingly, fred manages to complete the task just in time for snape to barely let him scrape out of his classroom. fred anticipates he’ll have to rush after you as he collects his things but-”you alright, freddie?”

that voice makes him almost drop his book, missing his bag by an inch as he snaps his head towards the source of who that voice belonged to.

he gapes when you’re standing in front of him with a small smile, books to your chest and bag over your shoulder. you came to check up on him. even when it seems like the world has been unfairly cruel to you, you, still proved the world wrong with such kindness fred thinks you must be an actual angel.

“y-y/n,” he gapes, and that’s starting to-”you’re scaring me, freddie, are you alright?”

he runs his hand through his hair and stares at you, bewildered. however, he is thankful that the room is now empty as the remaining couple of students flutter out. “how?”

he hates how you look genuinely confused as your brows knit together, a pout forming whenever you felt unsure about something.

“h-how what?”

“how could you ask me that? how?” he shoves his book into his bag and leaves it on the stool, now both hands freely extending towards you to give you a gentle shake by your sides, “how can you ask me that when you’re the one not feeling okay?”

like a switch, fred watches as the facade you’ve been putting up all morning seems to crumble. he notices it starts with your breath hitching, which then slowly trails off to how your eyes appear sharp, suddenly blurry with the tell-tales of tears glassing over. fred could see himself frowning in them, and he absolutely hates the gut-wrenching feeling that swallows him whole.

even when you’re about to cry, there’s still a smile on your face.

“i-i can’t seem to hide anything from you, huh fred weasley?”

fred takes this moment to slip your books past your hands, nudging them onto the table. you allow your bag to slip from your shoulders as he tries to keep you close. and he doesn’t know if he’s doing that for your sake, or his.

“i... i feel heavy, freddie,” your voice barely makes it out to him, but it does. and each word is breaking his heart as he watches you try to explain your feelings that you weren’t completely sure of yourself. “it’s like... there’s a weight on my heart, pressing me down and i-”you lick your lips, tasting the saltiness trickling down you cheeks-”-i... feel so heavy, my heart feels so heavy,” you’re clutching onto the fabric of your robe directly above your heart, “it hurts so much, and i don’t even know why,” your voice is strained, stretched out across acres of trying to figure out why you feel like this but to no avail.

“i was feeling okay when i woke up this morning,” your lips are quivering at this point, sniffing as the tears can’t seem to stop, “why does it feel like my world has turned upside down all of a sudden?” fred knows you’re not asking him for the answer, rather, if there was a cruel higher up that was playing mind games with you, that was surely where your questions were directed to.

“i-i have everything, maybe not everything entirely but i should be happy,” you breathed in and out heavily, feeling your knees shaking, “and i am, genuinely am, but today,” fred doesn’t know since when you were out of breath, “m-my heart aches so much,”

fred flinches when you blink up to him, tears falling like your heart at the unexplainable weight that made its way without you noticing. he holds you tight, almost crushing you as he keeps you close to him like it’s the only thing he knows how to comfort you now. your hands don’t even make it around him, only going so far up to his waist to clutch onto the material of his robe hanging by his sides. he closes his eyes and gently strokes the back of your head, attempting to ease your sobs against his chest. he’ll willingly soak all of your tears, sadness, any ill feelings if he could. but knowing he can’t, if this could make you a little bit better or ease just a portion of the weight you were feeling, that’s as much as he’s grateful for.

it feels like an eternity ticked by but in reality it’s a mere ten minutes. your erratic breathing has calmed down from the nosedive of emotions you displayed that it’s starting to make you blush a little. fred only notices this when you’ve gone extremely quiet. he leans back just a little to peek at you, not only with red puffy eyes but also red cheeks.

“what’s the matter, love?” he asks softly, dipping down to get a glance at your eyes that seem too shy to meet with his now.

“i... i’m sorry, this was a lot to take in and... i just realised how much it was,” your tone was different this time. it registered to fred that... this was a tone he recognized. one of your hands remain holding to his robe, while the other reaching up to lightly punch his chest.

it may sound ridiculous but fred could hear yourself coming back. he could feel the aura around your changing.

“don’t tell me you’re sorry, y/n. you’re absolutely mad if you feel that now,” he raises a brow at you, “after all you just said? and cried? are you crazy?”

that makes you giggle - a genuine one, fred thinks - hands gingerly crawling around him to finally return the long-awaited hug.

“well... it’s... it’s not everyday you suddenly have to deal with your girlfriend bursting into tears and have no specific reason for it,” your voice is still raspy and sore from all the crying, but fred could pick out the syllables that gesture to him sonically that you were feeling better.

“i’d gladly take all of that in if it means i’m helping you overcome it,” he proudly puffs his chest out with that grin on his face but it also makes your heart swell at how much love you could feel he’s pouring just from the way he’s staring at you.

“thank you, freddie,” you lean forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, cheek against his chest. you can hear him smile as he squeezes you, then sway your bodies idly as he hums back, “don’t need to thank me, love,”

as the pair of you stay like that in silence (only for a few more minutes before you’d have to hurry along for the day), it’s like there’s an understanding that fred can’t possibly lift the weight up entirely for you. these were your emotions, after all.

but that doesn’t mean fred can’t stay with you as you get through them.

hand in hand, chest to chest.

((”promise if you want to cry, you’ll come to me? or at least, come see me after?” fred didn’t give you room to answer as he squishes your cheeks, towering over you with concerned eyes even though you're laughing, “yes, love? is that a yes? if you’re laughing like a goddess sent from above, i’ll take that as a yes!”

he was having a bit of trouble trying to push your cheeks together when you were grinning so wide, it’s making his heart do somersaults. not even the groaning of people at the common room could divert him away. (the both of you were, afterall, just mere steps away from them when you’re just by the stairs)

“yes, freddie, promise.”

“atta girl.” he winks, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he watches you go up to your room.))

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//fatherhood headcannons//

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou / Bokuto Koutarou / Daishou Suguru

Warnings: none 

Word Count: 1.7K (~550 a piece)

Notes: don’t come for me and my self-indulgence. Also >:C if you’re of age and living in the United States, go fucking vote.  i am not asking. 

Kuroo Tetsurou

He goes into this whole fatherhood thing with complete and utter confidence.  Kuroo Tetsurou is convinced that he doesn’t need to have a single parenting book.  How hard can it be?

It’s all just making sure his kid doesn’t die, right? R I G H T?

He tries really hard to understand all of your discomforts during the pregnancy, but wowowow he’s bad at it.  You were complaining that your feet were sore and he just looked at you weird.  You had just gotten out of bed?  How did your feet already hurt?  Your back hurts? How? You’re laying down?

He recognizes that you’re in discomfort and he, of course, doesn’t look past that.  He’s going to do whatever he needs to do to ensure your comfort, but he just struggles to comprehend it.

I promise that Kuroo was so calm and cool and collected throughout the entire pregnancy and honestly, even during delivery, he was there to tell you how great you were doing, holding your hand, letting you crush his fingers in your tight grip.  He would pat your head and occasionally give you little kisses on your temple.

But when the nurse asks if he wants to hold his new little girl and places her in his arms, oh he’s crying.  He doesn’t even realize that he’s crying until he feels the tears stream down his cheeks.

It was in the following weeks that he realized just how hard this whole parenting thing would be.  Sleep?  Kuroo didn’t know her.  The baby religiously started crying every night at 2:27 a.m. and it would take nearly an hour to get her to fall back asleep.  By the time that hour passed, he was already back to being wide awake and would just lay in bed, unable to fall back asleep for hours.  

The first time he ever had to change a diaper, he had to pull up a YouTube video to figure it out, but he’s not about to tell you that.  

He has no idea how to dad, but Kuroo ends up being a really incredible father.  While he may be lacking in the basic skills like knowing the correct formula temperature or how to properly hold his daughter, he makes up for it with his constant companionship.  

You’ve walked in on him in the nursery so many times.  He’s really not even doing anything.  He’s just leaning against the crib, running his fingers across his little girl’s skin, still not believing that this is real and that that little baby is his, something that he helped create.  Oh, it just makes him so soft to think about.   He talks real quietly to her, telling her about his day, like she has any idea what he’s saying, but he still smiles so wide when she looks at him.

His little girl is his entire world and I just know that he’s an incredibly protective father.  He knows that the world is a scary place and he wants his daughter to be able to grow up having the best life possible, even if it is difficult.

Bokuto Koutarou

It was an accident.  It was 100% an accident.  But, the absolute joy that lit up his features when you told him your happy news, well, you don’t think you had ever seen him smile so wide.  He had picked you up to spin you around and covered your face in kisses.  Bokuto had set you down and immediately squatted down to place a kiss on your non-existent baby bump, telling his little baby how excited he was to be their papa.

Bokuto does prepare, well, at least a little. He owns one book, but he has read it cover to cover.  When he was reading through it, he would stop at something that he found particularly interesting and show it to you.

He didn’t really know how best to take care of you, but he tried his best!  He would rub your shoulders or feet when you asked.  He would make dinner after practice.  He is absolutely running to the store in the middle of the night because you had a sudden craving for Cheetos and vanilla ice cream.  Bokuto thought it was best not to ask what the hell you were doing when you proceeded to dip the Cheetos in the ice cream.

Bokuto forces you on walks.  He read in that one pregnancy book that walks can help induce labor, so in the time leading up to the due date, Bokuto was taking you on strolls around the block multiple times a day.  

But, he gets really busy with MSBY ;-; like. . . a lot.  He wants to be there every step of the way, but he just can’t.  Even after the baby was born, it seemed like there was rarely a day off for him to just spend with you and the baby.

Nothing hurt more than seeing the video of his little boy taking his first steps, knowing that he wasn’t even there to see it for himself because he was stuck on a bus in another city for a game.

This boy B R A G S about his kid all the time.  Sakusa might just beat his ass if he has to hear Bokuto coo about his son one more time.  

Games that happen at home are Bokuto’s favorites because he knows that whenever he looks up into the stands, you’ll be there, the baby in your arms, a tiny black knit hat with gold detailing pulled over his head.  It always made his heart so warm and he seemed to always be on top of his game just so he could secure a win quicker.  He just wanted to rush to you and cradle his little one in his arms.

He likes to toss his little bean up into the air, but he has absolutely bonked his son’s head on the ceiling and then proceeded to fail to catch him because he was so in shock that he just hit his son’s head on the ceiling.  Insert one (1) bokuto koutarou suddenly regretting every life decision that he has ever made.  

Surprisingly, he’s a really good parent?  He understands the balance between being caring and supportive, but also having a firm hand on discipline.  He isn’t much for punishments, because he’s going to feel bad, but he won’t hesitate to sit his son down and have a talk if he needs to.  

God Bokuto is such a good dad please i’m so soft i just know that he would sob his eyes out the minute the baby is on its way

Daishou Suguru

please i don’t even want children, but i would make an exception for daishou suguru

Suguru is so?? stupidly?? prepared?? 

Like the two of you decided that you wanted to have a baby and this man went to the bookstore and asked one of the workers which pregnancy books were the best.  The poor high school student had no idea

He took notes and was just constantly studying up on things.  You’d think he was back in university again with how much he poured himself over these books.  

While Daishou may have all of the technical stuff down like knowing the exact female reproductive anatomy and how it all works to produce the baby and he can definitely change a diaper with his eyes closed by now, but-

When the time came to put together a nursery- oh the boy was lost.  He had no idea what to do.  He’d never built a crib before.  He wasn’t really sure why he was expecting it to just unfold or magically form together when he took it out of the box, but now he was just sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by bits and pieces of a baby crib, pouring over the instructions, only to get more confused.

Please go sit with him in his time of need.  He’ll rest his head on your shoulder and rub tiny circles over your bump.  

Suguru probably jumped a foot in the air when he felt that itty bitty kick against his hand.  It took him by complete surprise and his eyes were as wide as saucers, but this really slow smile took over his face and you don’t think you had ever seen him so happy, a complete smiling and laughing mess.

He takes the best care of you b y e 

Morning sickness?  He’s right there to pull your hair away from your face and get you a glass of water.  

Too bad he spent all this time looking up information on the actual pregnancy and had no idea what to expect for actual childbirth.  Overnight bag?  He said, “How long does this take?”  He had no idea what to do during delivery.  His dumbass just stood there until you demanded that he give you his hand and definitely screamed when you nearly crushed his bones in an absolute death grip, nails digging painfully into the back of his hand, but who was he to object.  He wasn’t the one pushing a child out of his body.

Oh, did I say child?  Try children.  Suguru nearly fainted when the nurse said that there was “one more.”  He didn’t remember seeing a second little peanut on the ultrasound, but maybe he just forgot in the overwhelming panic of the moment?

He was so good all throughout the pregnancy, but the minute the kids are born?  It’s like he completely forgot everything that he read over the past nine months, but the softness in his eyes and the gentle smile on his lips the very first time he got to hold his kid?  It made it all worth it.  He didn’t know that it was possible to love someone so quickly, but he looked at the faces of his newborn children and he couldn’t have been happier.

Daishou has fallen asleep in the nursery chair more than once when he was up with the babies.  You’d get up to see what was taking so long, only to find him leaned back, his head lolled to the side, two tiny bundles held securely to his chest.

In conclusion.  I love daishou suguru and he would be a really good dad once he figured it all out

{Taglist: @moncymonce​ @nicka-nell​ @celosiiaa​ @kuronekomama​ @lovinnoya​ and @nekxrizawa​ @boosyboo9206​ bc you both got me thinking about them as d a d s and now i can’t get it out of my head onyx please take this as a bribe to receive the daishou suguru hip dermal edit you made i need it}

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way 

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd. 

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it 

word count: 4k

music recs: 

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh 

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson. 

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope. 

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before. 

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty. 

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?” 

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence. 

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt. 

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?” 

“Draco!” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

~ 

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place. 

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table. 

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set. 

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly. 

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself. 

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

9!

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

8!

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

7!

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

6!

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

5!

His hand, warm and soft,  reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone. 

4! 

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

3!

2!

1!

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted. 

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in. 

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake. 

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest. 

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her. 

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears. 

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat. 

“As friends,” she said. 

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.” 

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” 

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts. 

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything. 

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” 

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.” 

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him. 

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

 Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.” 

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

 “Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again. 

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin. 

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.” 

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.” 

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her. 

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job. 

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said. 

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

[leia-imogen]

aaron & the family he's found all by himself; vol. 1 // vol. 2

( ft. the first meeting & the first family game night )

okay, rundown of his first meeting w the vixens!

the vixens don't really like the foxes. they cheer at their games and all, but outside of that, they mostly stick with the football players

bcs, well, the foxes are,, intimidating and most of the vixens don't get how or why katelyn started dating one

especially one half of the terrifying duo that is the twinyards. like these tiny blonde angst goblins have absolutely zero chill, and this is the backliner one, the one that shattered the nose of a dude basically twice his size

they may be short as fuck but they're scary, and the vixens are worried that he might break katelyn's heart

but katelyn's sure about aaron minyard, and when cleo softly asks, "is he worth it?" she knows her answer is a yes

savannah and the rest of the girls aren't convinced tho, so she asks aaron if he'll meet them for one of the afterparties they have after games

he agrees after seeing the hopeful look on her face

and surprise, surprise, it isn't a complete disaster!!

see, aaron has a habit of mirroring the nature of the person he's with. in the book, we mostly see him as an asshole bcs it's from neil's pov, and neil, as much as i adore him, is an asshole

i think that when he's with nicky ( someone he loves and trusts ), he's like, nicer. it's not in his nature to be cheery or anything but he's less,, hostile? and way more relaxed

and katelyn's been nothing but sweet and polite to him, bcs katelyn's sweet and polite till you give her a reason not to be

so he's sweet and polite back, or at least, sweet and polite as aaron minyard can get.

yeah, he's definitely interesting enough, clever and quick-witted enough, respectful and loyal and insanely talented enough, that katelyn decides he's worth it. doubts he'll ever get boring

and yes, she knows this is a big risk, bcs she knows the foxes' rep, knows how fucked up he must to secure a place on the psu foxes, notices how aaron flinches when she makes any sudden movement

but you know what? fuck it

so when aaron tells her his strange, twisted little deal with his brother, katelyn's willing to fight for him

and after nearly 2 months of this, she drags him to the vixens with their fingers interlocked and a hope in her heart that they'd play nice like she's asked ( practically begged ) them to

aaron's buzzing a bit with nervous energy. it's very endearing, how his eyes had lit up at the sight of her, then how she felt her anxiety about the night melt away into excitement

sav tries, bless her, tries to engage aaron in half-hearted conversation about exy ( which she hates ) and aaron tries back, but that fizzles out bcs for someone on a full-ride exy scholarship, aaron doesn't like exy at all

thank god that marissa, who's been trying to be less of a bitch all night, bless her too, lets it slip that sav detests exy

"okay, i can't anymore. minyard, savannah actually hates exy and she hates the foxes too, but we're hoping that you're an exception."

aaron, holding back a laugh: honestly? same.

sav: oh thank fucking GOD we have something to talk about then

"yeah, the entire sport sucks, doesn't it? i literally play it at college level and i still have barely figured out the goddamn rules."

"exactly! and my entire family's fucking obsessed for some reason, it's so annoying! ugh and the foxes suck even more, they're all so goddamn rude for no reason. except maybe the cute goalie."

". . ."

"eww not your brother, i meant renee walker,, and maybe you're not too bad either, minyard."

"you flatter me."

katelyn watches their exchange with more than a little amusement. aaron's not smiling, but his features have softened and he's flushed from the alcohol he'd had and she can't rly believe that this is the boy who they all thought would break her heart

bcs later when aaron comes up to her with a cookie dough cupcake ( her favourite ) she didn't even know was served at the party, leans into her so his face is buried in her neck, whispers "thanks for taking me", when she takes in all her friends laughing and chatting and waving at her, when sav gives her a thumbs-up and nods to aaron, she's never felt more whole

like she was part of something bigger than herself

then aaron starts hanging around them more! yeah he saw the look on katelyn's face and he was going to TRY for her or so help him- usually just with katelyn, sav, and cleo

she invites him to the "family game night" sav is making them have, and he's like "sure why not."

he knocks on the door of sav and cleo's dorm and sav lets him in

"yo, minyard! glad you make it, katelyn's out on a donut run but she'll be back soon."

okay,, okay. so he'll,,, what? interact w people?? hell fucking no

then he realises that it's only cleo in the dorm, plugged into her headphones, playing mario kart, and thanks katelyn for ensuring there would only be ppl that like, he didn't mind

the other vixens were okay, but way too LOUD, and aaron wasn't rly up for spending a whole night w them

cleo hands him a controller, an invitation to play, and he takes it gratefully. he and cleo hadn't talked that much at the party, but she was perfectly tolerable so far, which was a good sign

and mario kart was a part of his childhood, one of the only few that nicky's parents had owned, so he and his cousin had spent hours curled up in front of tv trying to beat each other

even tho he beats nicky most of the time, cleo absolutely destroys him. he mentally tries to brush it off as him being rusty ( which he definitely is ) but damn, cleo's good. still, she brushes off the compliment when aaron blurts it out

okay so then katelyn comes back with like way too many donuts and they start playing monopoly gathered around the coffee table

sav insists on putting on some music. wannabe starts playing. she winks at aaron and aaron winks back, still not smiling. cleo snorts and katelyn kisses his cheek

listen, cleo is a monopoly master. soon, she owns over half the board and it's pretty clear she's gonna win, someone ( savannah riley jameson, everyone ) flips the board

"jameson, what the actual fuck."

"shut the hell up, minyard."

"come on, sav, i was winning!"

katelyn's trying to pick up all the pieces and aaron bends down to help her, shaking his head at sav, who pouts and joins them while cleo grins, headphones slung around her shoulders while she perches herself onto the arm of the settee and hums to wake me up before you go-go

next, sav begs them to play twister. cleo's great at most games, but she has a particular dislike for twister, so she's out quick

katelyn is super bendy, bcs she took gymnastics for years, and aaron holds his own surprisingly well, considering the fact that he's short as fuck

sav: katie, right hand red

katelyn, ending up right on top of a blushing aaron: okay, you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

sav: i stopped spinning like 15 turns ago, i'm surprised you didn't notice sooner

eventually aaron collapses and katelyn is hailed as the queen of twister and they spend the next 10 minutes just calling out random spots for katelyn to try

she gets all of them, and aaron is actually smiling now and it doesn't matter that it's only a tiny quirk of his lips, it's something and katelyn cherishes it

they play some sort of surgeon simulator thingy next, and aaron "gonna be a future neurosurgeon" minyard is awesome at it, bcs duh

katelyn's not very good at this. her hands get SHAKY okay

cleo also sucks at this, bcs she keeps getting nervous and having muscle spasms. sav's just doing the dumbest shit bcs it's bringing aaron closer to the edge of cardiac arrest

aaron: jameson holy shit what are you DOING

sav, slicing open the spinal cord: okay so what if i take out the lungs through the back haha

and now sav is sulking over the fact that she hadn't absolutely murdered the others at a game

so she brings out the ultimate game. the game of bastards, one that tears families apart, sets friendships on fire, starts wars too gruesome to be started by anything other than this wretched, cursed artefact. . .

s c r a b b l e

aaron's already having war flashbacks. katelyn groans and goes to make popcorn, bcs this shit's gonna take FOREVER and she knows it. cleo, an english major, is preparing herself for battle with the force of nature that is savannah

"the fuck do you MEAN fergalicious isn't a word???"

"savannah, please."

"no, here, listen to this."

"sav, we were listening to that!" katelyn complains. sav sighs and switches the song back to her "90's bops" playlist, then changes it to "hell yeah feminism" which instantly starts playing run the world ( girls )

katelyn happily starts singing and aaron's not even reluctant to hum along

sav and cleo are still arguing. this has been going on for so long. sav looks ready to flip over the board again, so cleo does it first

katelyn: cleo what the heck

cleo, the tired mom friend: don't fucking curse

aaron is also tired, but in a good way, in kind of that soft lazy droopy way

he falls asleep leaning against the sofa and katelyn's shoulder, with god is a woman playing in the background while sav and cleo continue arguing. cleo is standing on the coffee table. it's true anarchy

he wakes up on the sofa with a blanket thrown over him and sunlight streaming in through the lacy curtains and katelyn making a complete mess of the kitchen in a futile attempt to make breakfast. sav and cleo are draped across each other on the floor

katelyn, struggling to pick up burning toast: morning babe, how did you sleep?

aaron, calmly using a pair of tongs: pretty well. who wants pancakes?

sav, instantly shooting up: DID YOU SAY PANCAKES

so he makes pancakes! nicky taught him as soon as he'd gained custody of the twins, so he's pretty much an expert. he tries to teach katelyn, but then just gives up bcs she's clearly not listening in favour of staring at him

and they all gather around the coffee table and cleo's humming along to the song on her headphones and wow these pancakes are rly good omg

while aaron is chatting to cleo about what video games they should play next, sav whispers, "kate finley, if you don't marry this boy just for his god-tier pancakes, i will."

"sav, you're a lesbian."

"not anymore, i've decided that i am pancake-sexual."

aaron hears all of this btw, bcs cleo stops when she hears them talking. he blushes, and smiles, just a little bit

( if anyone actually cares about this, tell me! shoot me an ask if there's any particular ask you want to see with these characters, or just the foxes! )

[tintinwrites]

i have loved you too much | Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Fem!Reader | Part One

A/N: You guys liked this idea I think so here you are with part one!! Please remember that Reader ends up pregnant from this one night stand and that’s the focus of this series.

Rating: 18+

Warning: This fic is going to deal with pregnancy in the future, please be aware! Naughty words. P in V sex. One-sided Frankie x Reader. Reader yells Frankie’s name I’m warning you bc I was embarrassed just writing it lol. Pining. Meaningless sex wrap it before you tap it please even if you won’t get pregnant protection is IMPORTANT.

Word count: 3,413, apparently!!

Summary: You’re in love with Frankie and it’s the day of his wedding to a woman who is not you. You and a lonely Santiago find solace in each other.

GIF credit: damerondjarin

Tags: Since this is a series, the taglist is OPEN for those who want to read more rather than me tagging everyone from my general taglist. I don’t want to tag people in a bunch of parts who might not be interested, so let me know if you are!

                                         ---------------------

Frankie always made your heart flutter.

When you were fifteen and it was your first day of high school in a new town, and your first impression of dropping a bunch of papers in the hallway was not so embarrassing when a young boy in a backwards cap rushed to help you pick them up.

When you were seventeen and your prom date walked out with the girl he really wanted to take who happened to be your best friend of two years’ date, and he awkwardly asked if you wanted to dance to stop you from crying.

When you were eighteen and you were clinging onto him as he was about to go off to join the military, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek and promised to send you letters.

When you read every letter as you sat in your dorm, even as you entered your twenties and the letters became few and far between.

And then, when he came home when you were just shy of twenty-eight, you found out that Frankie could make your heart sink, too.

Like when you ran to hug him and he told you he wanted you to meet someone, and he introduced you to his fiancee.

Or when he announced the wedding date would be in a year and a half from that date.

There was also when you were twenty-nine and he asked you to be his ‘best man’, and asked you to help him pick a few things out.

And now here you were, a few days from thirty years old, and seeing Frankie all dressed up in a tux without a hat on his head made your heart flutter and sink at the same time.

How did he do that?

You were sitting on the arm of a chair that Benny was sitting in, your dress matching the ties and pocket squares that he, Frankie, and the other boys were wearing, as you watched a slightly nervous groom who wasn’t used to big celebrations look at himself in the mirror. You’d been introduced to the other men when they came into town to see Frankie and became fast friends with all of them.

“Why’d she have to choose bow ties? I can barely tie a normal tie,” he joked, trying for the third time to figure out how to tie the fabric.

Will seemed to be the only one who knew how to tie it and he gestured for Benny — who’d been fiddling with his for quite a bit now — to walk over so he could help him.

You stood after watching Frankie for a moment longer and stepped between him and the mirror, taking hold of the bowtie so you could do it up for him. “Can’t believe you’re all grown up.”

He chuckled, leaning over a bit as you tied the bow so he could glance at himself in the mirror again.

“I look like a dork, but you know...she’s worth it. Fuck, I love her.” He didn’t notice the way you looked down, fixing a piece of errant hair that fell from the style his wife-to-be wanted most.

“There you go, sweet Frankie.” It was a name you’d called him since you met him because you’d never met anyone as sweet and gentlemanly as him.

Still hadn’t.

And you’d never met anyone as handsome or as funny or…

“I’ve never worn one of these fuckin’ things,” Santiago grumbled, and you turned your attention to where he’d tied his bowtie into a knot.

“Where would you guys be without me and Will?” You bumped your hip into the man in question as you walked by him to go to Santi. “Come on, let me see it now.” You batted his hands away and grimaced at the tight knot, starting to pull at it delicately.

He watched you closely as you fixed the bowtie and, though your eyes were downcast to focus on the work at hand, he’d seen the tears in them. “You doing okay?”

You looked at him in bemusement for a moment and then you realized that he was rather blurry, and you quickly looked back down as his question made your tears threaten to spill.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just, uh...you know, weddings...so emotional…” You tried to laugh it off with a teary chuckle, hurrying to finish up with the tie so you could step away from him.

He stopped you before you could by pulling his pocket square out and holding it to you.

“Santi, that was perfectly folded!” You’d spent hours with Frankie’s almost wife, helping her with last minute decorations, and the pocket squares needed to be folded in the right design.

She was so nice and you couldn’t blame Frankie for falling for her.

“Sorry, fuck!” Santi hurriedly shoved it back into his breast pocket and did his best to make it look like it did before, but there was no time as the bride’s father knocked on the door to let you all know it was time to head down.

The wedding was being held entirely in a hotel so you left the room you’d booked for changing and headed down to where the ceremony was being held, hooking your arm through Santi’s despite being the best man as there were only two bridesmaids and Frankie requested that his two best friends walk in together.

A hand gently squeezed your side and you looked to see Frankie smiling at you nervously, before he walked down the aisle.

You didn’t think you would be crying again just from walking down the aisle, but all you could think as you looked at the man you loved was that his eyes were looking past you, waiting for the woman he loved.

That woman would never be you.

                                          -----------------------------

You were always able to tell when Frankie was embarrassed.

And, yes, he was a really sweet guy, but slow dancing in front of all the wedding guests was very clearly embarrassing him.

Though his eyes would flutter to his new wife’s face and he’d look all dreamy, a big, dopey smile forming on his lips at the mere sight of her.

She was beautiful and very kind, and she deserved someone as wonderful as Frankie.

You knew that.

You knew you were being ridiculous with your jealousy over this.

Yet there you sat, your chair turned away from the table so you could watch them, half-smiling and half-crying because they were beautiful and Frankie was officially never going to look at you like that.

A hand holding a glass of champagne blocked your vision and you sat up a little straighter, looking up to see Santi standing there with a gentle smile. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“Oh, yeah, weddings always make me emotional…” It was the same excuse as before as you took the glass from him and forced yourself not to down the whole drink in one sip.

“Mm,” he hummed like he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t press as he grabbed the vacant chair next to you and turned it around to sit.

The song ended and the couple kissed each other sweetly, and you were so occupied with staring at Frankie longingly that you didn’t notice Santi watching them with a bit of sadness in his eyes too.

Frankie smiled at you with more giddiness than you’d ever seen as he walked past, and you quickly reached up to swipe away the tear that fell down your cheek.

Not fast enough; Santi regarded you with realization and then sympathy.

He thought for a long moment, then drank the rest of his own glass of champagne and stood up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Listen, I, uh...I don’t dance, but you’re really pretty tonight and someone should dance with you.”

“Santi…” The song that was playing was slow and you knew he wasn’t the type, but then he was extending his hand to you and you reluctantly took hold of it.

“No complaining if I step on your toes.” He yanked you towards the dance floor and you laughed as you stumbled into him, letting him guide your hand to his shoulder as his moved to your waist.

There was something about swaying with him that was only working up your emotions more and you were breathing deeply, doing your best not to cry, but a few tears started to fall and Santi quickly pressed your head into him to hide it.

Why did it have to hurt so much? Why couldn’t you just not love him?

You really hoped Santi thought you were just sobbing against him because weddings made you cry.

You forced yourself to calm down so he wouldn’t read much into it, just closing your eyes and letting him lead you in a way that was surprisingly decent considering he didn’t seem like the type to dance.

“You okay? You need to step out of the room for a minute?”

“I’m fine. It’s just—”

“Weddings make you emotional?”

“—yep. Yeah.”

You swayed with him silently for a couple moments, your emotional mind with its unrequited love taking the time to really think of how kind it was for him to dance with you, of what he said when he asked you…

You pulled back to look at him. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“That I’m pretty tonight.”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re pretty every night.”

You stared at him for a moment and then you leaned forward to press your lips to his. He stayed still in shock for maybe two seconds before he was eagerly kissing you back, his hands lowering from your waist to your hips.

You blinked at him slowly when you pulled apart, tilting your head slightly. “Would you like to go up to the hotel room with me?”

“I would love that.” He let you take his hand, noticing that you look around as if to make sure no one was watching before you pulled him out of the reception hall.

The walk to the elevator was quiet, but you were on Santi the moment the doors closed, seeking comfort from your broken heart in his lips.

He could make you forget about this.

Even if it was just for ten minutes or so, you wouldn’t think about Frankie for those ten minutes.

You weren’t thinking of Frankie now.

Or how sweet he looked in his tux.

Or how you would never be his, never know what it was to make love to him or come home to him or have a family with him.

Fuck, you were thinking about him, so you quickly reached between Santi’s legs and cupped him through his pants.

“Shit, baby! We’re almost to the right floor and I’m not gonna be scolded again for using the emergency stop for this.” He smirked at your raised eyebrow, but pushed you into the hallway as the doors opened.

The hotel was the first door to the right of the elevator and you had the keycard on you since you were the ‘best man’, sliding it through before pushing open the door as the man behind you hurried you in.

He barely kicked the door shut and then you were kissing again, hands roaming all over each other in search of buttons and zippers to undress each other as fast as possible.

Your dress loosened and was falling off your shoulders when Santi pulled the zipper down, and he sneaked his hands under the fabric both to push it down and to grope your breasts.

You stepped out of your dress, only in panties now since the style didn’t really allow for a bra, and you pulled away with a teasing smile as Santi reached for your breasts with a groan, making your way towards the bed.

The clothes Frankie had worn to the hotel before changing into his tux were on the bed and you paused when your eyes landed on them, thinking of how it wasn’t him you were going to bed with and now it never would be.

Santi opened his mouth to ask you why you stopped, only to see the clothes and know immediately that this had something to do with the way you were staring at Frankie and crying at the reception; he was no idiot, and the more pieces he put together, the more he realized that you thought of him as more than a friend.

He could tell you would probably cry again if you looked at the clothes for too long, so he reached over and shoved them right off the bed.

You blinked, looked over at him, and then let out a laugh before wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his.

He wrapped one arm around you and let his fingers roam over your bare back as he guided you closer to the bed, watching you flop down when the mattress touched the back of your knees.

His bowtie was undone and his tux jacket was unbuttoned by you when you were entering the room, and he quickly took them both off and then started on unbuttoning his shirt. “Your tits are probably the nicest I’ve ever seen.”

“I can tell by just looking at your stupid, beautiful face that I’m going to enjoy the rest.” Your eyes followed his movements until he was letting his shirt fall off his shoulders, showing off a torso that was decently toned from his work.

“Wait until you meet Santiago Jr.” He was sexy enough that naming his penis didn’t make you want to run, laying there with lust in your eyes as you watched him open up his pants.

“Oh,” you gasped out when you saw him spring free, barely acknowledging his lack of underwear as you sat up to admire him.

You’d been with a few men, but you could admit that you’d never seen a dick quite as pleasing as Santi’s; dicks were not pretty and his was...well, it was nice, and you might’ve wanted it in your mouth if you weren’t just trying to forget somebody else.

“I showed you mine…” He cocked an eyebrow, stepping forward at the invitation of your opening legs and slowly running his hands up your thighs, teasing along the hem of your underwear before he started to tug it down.

He groaned at the sight of your pussy and immediately moved between your legs so he could kiss along your inner thighs, but you quickly grabbed onto his hair to pull his head up.

You just shook your head slightly because you wanted to be fucked even though the idea of Santi eating you out was tempting, and you gently guided him up until his hips were nestled between your legs.

Maybe you weren’t letting him use his mouth on you, but he still moved his hand so he could stroke over your clit, wanting to be certain you were wet enough to take him before he tried to put his cock inside you.

You were decently wet just from kissing and thinking about having sex with him, so he merely stroked you until you were squirming and moaning underneath him before he took hold of his cock.

He pressed his tip against your entrance and looked at you for your consent, slowly pushing forward when you nodded and letting his head drop with a moan at the way your cunt stretched to accommodate him. You took every fucking inch like you were made for him and he was able to enter you almost to the hilt, his hips jerking as he let out a low moan.

His cock filled you so well that you were moaning along with him, one of your hands moving to play with and tug at the hair at the nape of his neck which only turned him on more.

“Fuck,” he panted, laughing softly and leaning down to kiss you.

“I know.” You pressed a few kisses to his lips as you enjoyed being full and he enjoyed something so tight hugging around him, then you bucked your hips. “Move for me. Please, Santi.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He pulled his hips back and then thrust forward again, doing that a few times as you moaned your approval before he found a rhythm that allowed him to rock into you smoothly.

Your legs tightened around his hips as he fucked into you, and you moved your hands so your fingers ran through his curls, ruffling them up a bit when you tugged on them.

This only made him groan and move even faster into you, the springs in the bed started to creak a bit the harder he fucked you.

He was grunting and panting and you were practically mewling each time he’d fuck against your G spot, but one of your hands slid down between your legs to touch yourself.

“Hell no.” He growled, shoving your hand away to replace it with his own so you wouldn’t have to pleasure yourself, rubbing circles on your clit.

Now as Santi was practically pounding into you and offering your clit the stimulation that you needed, your moans were growing into loud cries of ecstasy, your hands moving to press your nails into his shoulders.

Santi only moved his hips harder and faster as he sought out his own orgasm, grunting and groaning with every thrust back into your wet, tight pussy.

You knew that you were going to come by the way your clit tingled and your cunt fluttered around his cock and you could tell that he knew too as he moaned, his fingers keeping their movements on your clit consistent so he could push you into your climax.

You clenched down tight around him before your walls started pulsating on his cock and you screamed out, “Frankie!”

His hips stuttered and he stared down at you for a brief moment, but he didn’t want to embarrass you by making it awkward, and he knew he was just so you could forget about Frankie anyway, and he was so close to coming that he didn’t really care.

He continued thrusting into you as he lost a bit of that rhythm, pushing himself as far inside you as he could go as he came with a loud groan.

The only sound was your panting as he collapsed on top of you and nuzzled against your neck.

You tapped on his arm and he rolled off you, watching as you slid out of bed, redressing like his cum wasn’t still dripping out of you.

“Thanks, Santi. That was...really great,” you said as you pulled your panties on, then you walked over to the door where you put your dress on and stepped into your shoes before you paused, looking over your shoulder. “I’m sorry about the—”

“It’s fine.” He quickly waved off your apology for saying Frankie’s name, but it was still a little awkward, so he moved out of bed to redress himself.

He looked up when he heard the door open and shut, not certain what emotion it was that made him almost sad at how quick and detached that was; maybe the same emotion that made him look at Frankie and his wife with jealousy even though it was thanks to his bouncing from woman to woman that kept him from finding that happiness.

Not that it mattered, really, because he knew this was just a quick fuck and that you had eyes for somebody else, and he couldn’t really say he’d ever thought of you beyond friendship and sex. It wasn’t the fact that it was you that was making him sad, just the fact that this was all he was ever going to be.

You walked away from the hotel room with tears falling down your cheeks because you would never be with Frankie, and you might’ve forgotten about him for a few minutes, but you still said his name as you were having sex with another man.

You enjoyed yourself and you knew being distracted by Santi was only going to make you forget about longing for Frankie for those few minutes, and now you were right back to wanting him as much as you did before. Santi was just a moment of solace. Nothing more than that.

[ketchup-monthly]

Sanders Sides D&D 2

Ooh fresh take: Jan is virge’s patron and that’s why there’s beef

Also: Jan is some sort of fae related being

Jan: i need you to do something for me Virgil: no Janus: that's not how this works!! Virgil: watch me :P

Okay so I was thinking of Patton as a cleric cuz ooh healer however, Patton as a Druid makes me so happy

I want logan to have Rage

(Also that could tie nicely in an arc about Logan learning to accept feelings)

but barbarian logan is going to be a scholar again and is gonna be smort

bc hes logan. he cant be not smart

Oh I figured he’d be the bbeg that eventually joins the party (hurt/comfort baybee!)(Remus)

he was the bbeg but then joined the party as a bardbarian or just a bard

plus, actual bard who accidentally casts vicious mockery instead of bardic inspiration

Side note: please include a scene where Remus attempts to seduce the dragon

also with this second au, i can start them at like level 5 so people can multiclass

Pat as cleric/druid

gasp logan as artificer/barbarian

janus sorcerer/rogue

because basically everything but alchemist would work well with barbarian, but alchemist feels very Logan

bc mad scientist being actually mad

alchemist logan making an experimental potion and going "here im not sure what this does but im sure its fine! someone drink it"

Remus does it voluntarily, but Logan usually tries to get Roman to drink it

Virgil will occasionally drink it when he's on his last legs and is just like.....100% done with the party

remus as a wild magic path barbarian and just fucking teleporting or doing something equally ridiculous whenever he rages

Oh my god Remus with rage would be a force to be reckoned with

You gotta describe the first time he goes into a rage really dramatically

obviously virgil is trying to "escape" his patron, Janus (really just do whatever he says to not do out of spite)

Eldritch knight roman

Feywild warlock virgil

hey so in the second d&d au, should roman and remus be actual full siblings but like remus went darkside and like romans just trying to get back at him for putting a dark stain on the family name

hey hey hey what about warforged Logan? (essentially a robot)(so like "i dont feel anything" becoming real)

okay hear me out. elf roman and elf base simic hybrid remus. so like maybe the reason remus went darkside was experimentation? so like. hes elf but special

FALLEN AASIMAR VIRGIL

virgil just transforming in the middle of a combat scenario and like his eyes turn into black pits and flightless skeletal wings appear on his back and like everyone near him has to make a charisma check and like he deals extra necrotic damage

Pat is the one human stuck in a band of misfits

so with it, roman would be a full elf, and remus would be an elf that has tentacles bc octopus

So robot logan

i meant literally he doesnt feel anything

like he has all the emotions, but he doesnt physically feel the need to like eat or sleep or stuff like that

he just.....he pretend he don't have the feelings.....but he do.....he feel so much and he hides it all in his littol mechanical heart <3

plus......if he warforged, then like.....AC huge

he stands in front of friends.....he protecc...."no, i don't have feelings, i am physically incapable of affection" but he do!! he do! he take hits for them because he do!! he care so much

Bro he spouts all this and then he uses a reaction to dive in front of someone and everyone’s just like oh

LIKE ROMAN STILL BEING MEAN TO LO BC HE THINKS HE DOESNT HAVE FEELINGS BECAUSE HE DOESNT HAVE A HEART BUT HE DOES

hey hey everyone needs to grow

and logan standing up for himself and other people stepping in and saying no stop thats not right

plus if canon wont give me roman facing the consequences of his actions towards Logan......

but also Roman learning how to properly handle his own emotions and how he interacts with others

logan who doesn't view himself as anything more than a machine to be useful to others

the party giving logan love and affection until he slowly learns his own worth as a person

Roman and Logan not getting along (maybe Roman has a Lore reason to distrust Warforged, maybe not) and slowly learning to trust each other

when Logan is feeling real down or having some issue, Roman actually comes through to help him, showing how far both characters have come

Okay yes but also can we please give Roman more confidence than canon? Like I’m sooooo sick of low self esteem being played for laughs or just being really really sad

this boy is going on a mission and will slap his brother upside the head and tell him to shut tf up remus youre not a monster just come back home and he will do it alone if need be

OKAY SO WHAT IF HE ORIGINALLY WENT ON THE QUEST JUST TO STOP REMUS ONCE AND FOR ALL BC ROMAN THOUGHT HE WAS A MONSTER, BUT ALONG THE WAY, AND AFTER LOGAN, HE CAME TO REALIZE THAT NO, JUST BECAUSE REMUS (AND LOGAN) ARE DIFFERENT, THEY ARENT MONSTERS, JUST DIFFERENT

AND LIKE IN THE FINAL PUSH TO MAKE REMUS JOIN BACK WITH HIS BROTHER, ROMAN IS PROJECTING HIS OWN FEELINGS ONTO REMUS AND EVERYONE IS LIKE WOW BRO YOU GOOD THERE, BUT ITS A BIG MOMENT FOR LOGAN, ROMAN, AND REMUS

im unsure as to how, but it happened when he was an older teen/young adult. a simic scientist either picked him (read: kidnapped), or remus volunteered (potentially to escape court life, unaware what exactly the experiment was going to do to him physically

bc also, remus and roman are royalty

so like. how best to get at the nobes/royalty/rich famous people than by turning their kid into a monster

wait, wait, wait, because i'm lowkey a sucker for this trope, but i'm not sure if it fits Remus: the experiments left him with some fairly significant physical pain/uncontrolled magical reactions. through some combo of trying to deal with that and trying find a cure for his pain, he keeps like....absolutely wrecking random towns on accident but also deliberately wrecking certain places looking for either a) vengeance on the guy(s) responsible or b) someone who can make the pain stop

SO LIKE. WILD MAGIC BARBARIAN DOING WEIRD SHIT TO HIM WHENEVER HE RAGES

AND LOGAN COULD MAYBE HELP WITH THE PAIN AND SHIT

BC ALCHEMY

Yknow, for simplification purposes, we could say the True Bbeg just gave Remus lycanthropy and Remus hasn’t managed to control it yet

lycanthropy but simic shit?

Mr. I-Don't-Have-Feelings sees the poor dude in pain and also Roman in emotional pain from seeing his brother in pain and is absolutely like "i must resolve this like right now, immediately" because he definitely doesn't hate seeing his friend suffering, or his friend's brother whom he's just met

he definitely doesn't relate at all to the idea of someone else shaping your body and absolutely does not sympathize with Remus's plight

i was thinking the grappling thing and either manta glide or the ability to breathe underwater for the simic stuff, but like he doesnt have control over the tentacles yet?

Manta glide seems like we could have fun battle scenes

he just jumps off a cliff to avoid mushy talk/dealing with his actions/roman

Roman: Remus just because you're a monster and though i wish i was an only child-- Remus, jumping off a cliff: byyeeeeee Patton: Roman, look what you did! Virgil: dammit jan what did you do? Janus: why do you think i had anything to do with that? im a fae, not a genie Logan, thinking: what an asshole. i wish i could do that

oh my god Logan always being tired mentally bc he cant sleep

Oh my gosh I love that. So Remus got kidnapped super young, (from royal family) they never found him, as a result Roman had to grow up super fast (side effect: lowkey inconsiderate and forgets to ask for others input). Meanwhile, Remus was experimented on by True Bbeg and came out with some trauma and super cool additives

yep! chronic pain and ptsd and all sorts of other shit!

so like, simic hybrids are usually created when they're adults. but what if the true bbeg decided to go younger to see what would happen, and thats why remus has chronic pain and stuff

he was still growing when his genes were spliced, so hes dealing with growth plates shifting and his body maturing and puberty and body changes and stuff

Pat is going to have a lighthearted story. Im saying that now. Hes the one without all the baggage

Sure, but his parents have to lowkey be the really kind people who are surprisingly always down for violence

everyone: multiple crises Pat: y'all need help Pat: love and affection in spades for his little band of misfits

Patton (which I think would be pretty simple, honestly he might just see danger and jump in and suddenly everyone in the party has Feelings)

Logan

Mhm. So how did he grow up? Was he just poof created? Wait

What if he was created by the king?

To make up for remuss disappearance

wait, wait....angst......he was created to fight (hence the barbarian stuff) but alchemy is his real passion

wait so like. a second son???

hes there to replace remus?

Yea! (But like in a sympathetic grief way) But that causes a bit of a complex in Roman and ergo Roman and Logan have a bit of a beef

okay so like. hes there to be a companion for roman, and like take remus' place, even though hes not actually in line for the throne?

LOGAN AS A KNIGHT

and just......the conflict of being created for a specific purpose (plus being, you know, robot and technically incapable of deviated from said purpose) vs the fact that he actually does have independent consciousness and like....wants to live life for himself

the parents made Logan a barbarian in hopes that him and Roman would be safe

okay. so logan was created by the king with the sole purpose to take remus' place as romans brother/companion, and to be his like guard? protector? and fight, but logan wants to be an alchemist and study shit

wait, wait, wait.....thinks about Asimov's Laws

he.....his first operative is protect (specifically protect Roman)

oh man. so hes literally just a shield

his second level operative is just like.....care for Roman's emotional well-being, but he doesn't really know emotions because he was kinda just spawned and nobody told him how

and he just....kind of....lets Roman treat him like garbage and take all his grief out on him because he's staunchly in denial of both having feelings or knowing how they work

Anyway Yea so Logan created by royal family in place of Remus which created angst between the two “brothers” and identity issues in Logan. Their arcs are learning how to healthily process emotions plus Roman apology and Logan commits to alchemy

So big question: why did virge make a deal?

Tricked

he gave janus his name

and instead of janus like killing him or whatever the fae do to people who break the rules of dealing with the fae, jan was like. hey. i'll give you magic, but do what i say

Janus is lawful neutral, but leans towards being selfish

hes self serving, but he has a strong set of morals and rules he follows

Tho I want to Virgil to also not be pushover so let’s say loophole happened and Jan has to stay with virge (hence why Jan is a part of the party)

okay so a couple of the rules are dont give a fae your true name and don't try to figure out their true name

So

what if virgil accidentally gave up part of his true name, and got stuck in the deal, but then figured out janus' true name

so in the same vein that janus had control over virgil, virgil now has more control over janus

he still gets his magic from janus, so he cant break free completely, but virgil has more freedom and can occasionally tell janus what to do or when to shove it

there should a running gag where virge can explain how he learned Jan’s true name but Jan can make something loudly censor him every time

(he learned his name bc once he heard janus practicing his evil genius voice and talking to himself in the mirror and janus said his true name)

so maybe janus sent virgil on the quest to protect a town or stop something related to remus, but virgil dragged him along

he might just be trying to protect a town thats close to a ley line, or something fae-related, and they just happen upon the whole thing

janus is selfish. but lawful vs chaotic is where he comes through, in morals vs doing whatever. janus has a strong set of loyalties to the fae, and to himself

so like....Remus is just too close to Jan's stuff and he wants to take him down

Virgil is just like....exhausted and said "fine, but if i gotta do this, you're coming, too"

or at least figure out a way to protect his place, even if it doesnt mean fully taking out remus. just moving him would work for jan

Janus: virgilllllllllll hes going to mess up my magic storage locker Virgil: Jan, its empty Janus: but its mine

Yea. Remus attacks a city away from the fae: Jan: Yknow I’m gonna sit this one out Virge: oh no you don’t, get up

Or

Janus vs Janice

so his real name is Janus, but Virgil calls him Janice

Virgil: This is Janice Janice: with a “U-S” Virgil: mhm, sure Jan

I'm a big fan of just like any of the old theory name being various aliases for Jan

Damien, Dante, Ethan, Declan, etc, etc

[thisstableground]

Hello! I wanna start drawing again and I'm really fond of your style, I was wondering, do you have any drawing tips? ❤️

okay sorry this took a couple days to reply to because i wanted to think about it, but i think my main advice is to divide up your artistic time into practice and art. this drawfee video on how to practice effectively explains it really well (this section is at around 13 minutes, i haven’t watched the rest of it yet bc it’s a long vid but i bet there’s other good advice in there too): practice is input, drawing is output. practice is learning new information about things you don't know how to do – you're not making a final piece. 

practice is things like:

experimenting with different ways of holding the pen/pencil. holding a pen/pencil for drawing is different than how you'd hold it for writing – you want to hold it higher up, and use looser arm movements. different angles will give different effects (see here). holding a pen for a tablet is different to both a traditional pencil and a writing grip. if you have a tablet that picks up on palm contact, try getting a drawing glove so that you don't have to hold your hand at an unnatural angle. draw different lines and shapes and get used to the different effects you can make.

experimenting with different ways of moving your hand. a general rule to follow here is the bigger the shape, the more of your arm you should use to draw it. a lot of people draw primarily with just their fingers or wrists moving because they feel more control there, which is great for fine detail work but doesn't translate well to bigger sweeping shapes, and thats where you end up with wobbly lines or having to draw several scratchy lines instead of one smooth curve. if you want more confident lines you need to draw from the elbow, or the shoulder. it takes some getting used to but it's definitely worth it for keeping your drawings lively instead of stiff, and your wrist will also feel less strain.

learning to draw basic 3 dimensional shapes. boxes, cylinders, spheres. just draw a whole lot of them from different angles.

learning how to break down a complex form into basic shapes. a good way to do this is tracing – tracing has a bad rap as being stealing, but as long as you're not uploading a traced image and passing it off as your own it's a great way to train your eye to understand how forms work together, particularly for something complex like anatomy. draw over an image and break it down into basic shapes. then try to copy those shapes onto your own paper without tracing. do it over and over until you're better at it. (this method of redrawing is called iterative drawing, it's a great practice technique). 

theres broader practice and then narrow. having a mix of both is good: quick sketching a whole figure some days, other days really focusing in on like “this is how a nose work”. go with what feels right in the moment.

and then the output, the actual drawing, is when all this practice pays off - these are your pieces that you work on to show people, or the things that you want to make, this is where you chase your creativity and passion. keeping them separate really helps to stop your art feeling like a chore and keeps you from overworking your full pieces (incorporating too much practice into your creative art); it also stops you stagnating or becoming frustrated with your lack of improvement (not practicing enough).

you don't have to be super strict with yourself about when to do which thing; you'll probably go through phases of doing a lot of practice, and then phases of doing a lot of drawing.  if you're really struggling with one thing, that's often a sign that you need to do more of the other to balance things out.

other advice:

learn to be bad at art. this is good during practice with things like timed figure drawing or whatever where you just don't have time to make it good, but it's also good in drawing/creating: just letting yourself make “bad” or silly or quick things for the fun of it or to get an idea out. nothing has to be perfect and the earlier you learn to be bad at art the quicker you'll get good at art, and the more you'll enjoy it too

to expand on that, while tablet drawing is great, i've found that i improve a lot more rapidly  when i do at least some of my practice a) on paper but also b) in pen or marker or paint, anything non-erasable. the ability to undo and erase infinitely in digital art is great for full pieces but doing your practices in pen means you're forced to be lot less precious and so you learn quicker how to be more decisive and confident with your lines because whatever you put there, you’re stuck with it.

if you're stuck, try something completely out of your comfort zone. use different materials, restrict yourself to a specific colour palette, ask for prompts, set a timer. sometimes there's just too much choice about what to do and it can be paralysing: giving yourself a totally arbitrary restriction can actually push you to be more creative and to get out of a rut (recommending more drawfee here, their random shapes challenge videos are a really good example of this)

you don't have to find your style. it'll find you. it's good to observe what you like about other people's art and try to consciously think about it, it can be really good to ty and mimic those elements yourself during your practice, but for your actual drawings you don't need to think about your style because as your ability improves it will come out naturally.

this applies mostly to traditional, but try to have your paper tilted slightly rather than flat on the desk – i prop my hardback sketchbooks up on a book. if you have your paper flat then you're more likely to get a little bit of a perspective distortion from top to bottom, especially if you're working from a reference, because you're looking at the paper from a different angle than you're looking at the reference so it can look fine when you're drawing but then when you look at it head-on it's just a little off. it also makes it easier to not hunch up over it and get a backache.

FLIP THAT CANVAS. i don't know why this works but its a time-honoured artist technique for making sure that there's reasonable symmetry especially for drawing people: draw your picture out, then flip it. you'll be able to see a lot clearer where the proportions are off. make changes, flip it again, keep doing that. it's harder with traditional media to do this but if you have some tracing paper you can turn that over, or just take a photo of your work and flip that.

a little frustration can be good if it’s motivating you, but if it's so much that you're tearing up your drawings or wanting to quit, you either need to change up your approach for a while or you need to take a bit of a break. i  know people say you have to draw every day and if that works for you then do that, but personally, i don’t: i go through phases of drawing all the time then not at all for a few weeks, and that works better for me than forcing myself to work on it every day and i often come back to it a lot better because i’ve given all the practice time to actually sink in. breaks are an important part of learning, whether its hour or a day or a week of just walking the fuck away from the sketchbook and doing something else.

stretch your arms and wrists often, especially if you're drawing for several hours. here's the routine i use, it’s only ten minutes but it makes a big difference. and if you've overdone it and your hand or wrist or back is hurting, don't push through it. drawing is surprisingly physical and i’ve fucked my hands up real bad several times not listening to a slight ache and having it turn into full on RSI

i hope some of that helps! there are a lot more specifics i could get into about a million different things but the overall gist of this is that you should be aware of all the different options you have and can dabble in, and try to find a balance of learning and creating that allows you to improve without sucking all the joy out of it.

[hitachiinmisadventures]

hey how about hcs for the twins as parents (individually)?

also i’m sorry you’re having a bad day :( i hope you feel better soon!

Holy shit you are one of my favorite blogs I think I can die happy now k bye

By individually, you mean each of them as parents right? That’s what I’m going with and I warn you this is going to be a long one

With this, I’m going off the basis that they didn’t grow up basically one of the riches people in Japan as that generally affects how kids our raised and Money Is Literally Power™ in the business world

If I were to keep them rich, chances are they would be away working more often than not (both twins have stated in canon their parents where rarely home). In most, of no all, shows/anime/cartoons I’ve watched and manga I’ve read regarding high-status wealthy families, the child/children grow up being raised by staff and feel alone or forgotten by their parents. Yes they have money, but money isn’t physical affection humans thrive on.

In my college au idea (that I don’t think I ever posted on here...) I stated the headcanon Hikaru had gotten someone pregnant in college. Ngl, I really think this is something that would happen bc he’s never been one to think before he acts.

 As for Kaoru, uhhhh he’s the tougher one to put this together for as I’ve never really thought about it for him. He canonically isn’t straight, so for this headcanon we’ll say he’s bi and had a wife first, then a husband

Hikaru upon finding out:

with his first kid, he was utterly terrified the moment she said the words

He was barely an adult and now he was going to be a father the world was against him

The first person he told was (surprisingly) not Kaoru as they were going through a rough spot and not talking to each other

So Mori was the first person he told. It was on the roof of their dorm building at 3 in the morning 15 minutes after Hikaru texted him saying it was urgent and he needed someone to stop him from doing something utterly stupid bc his head was a rushing mess and he had no idea what to do

When Hikaru finally got his head out of his ass and showed up at Kaoru’s dorm a week later (also at 3am, that’s just when this boy has his breakdowns) he broke down and told Kaoru everything. That they we drunk at a party. It was a one night stand. They honestly never expected to have any ties afterwards. And all that was shoved back in his face

He honestly thought (and he thought long and hard about it) about not being in the kid’s life bc he wasn’t ready to be a father

Kaoru knocked some sense into him, figuratively and literally

“Next time, keep it in your damn pants idiot”

Telling his parents was even harder than telling Kaoru. He just called Hikaru and idiot. His father didn’t talk to him for three days. And his mother was torn between being upset or being excited to be a grandmother

He was terrified

But then he heard the heartbeat for the first time

He will never admit it, but he cried

And the sonogram technician told him the we having a girl

A daughter. He was going to have a daughter

He grew more and more excited and less and less terrified

He could do this

Her water broke 6 weeks early and the doctors tried to stop her labor but she was dilating quickly

No he couldn’t do this. He wasn’t ready

Kaoru actually punched him bc Kaoru tends to knock sense into this idiot more than anyone else

“That woman in there is alone which so many strange people with her and the one person who should be in there with her is out here in the waiting room trying to get his shit together. She’s just as terrified as you are, if not more. So take a moment. Get your shit somewhat together. And get in that delivery room”

The waiting consisted of: His parents, her parents, Kaoru, Tamaki, Haruhi, Kyouya, Honey, Mori, Renge, even Kasanoda was there—everyone was ready to meet Baby Girl Hitachiin

Holding his baby girl for the first time was single handedly the best moment of his life

His second kid was planned, he was married by then

His two kids have different mother’s but Hikaru, first baby mama, and step-mother/second baby mama co-parent like goddamn pros)

Hikaru as a father:

He’s a little immature for the longest time and with his daughter he makes a lot of mistakes

His mother is on speed dial and that woman is a saint when it comes to helping

“She has a rash Mom—no I don’t know what kind of rash! That’s why I calling you—no, I’m not sending pictures this time—because it’s down there Mom—a fucking diaper rash?”

He has very little experience and boy does this guy need lots of help

Parenting books, the internet, his mother—he’s using every goddamn resource he can find

Haruhi actually offered to watch his daughter literally any time he needed a babysitter—which brought on many long discussion between the two of them about kids

At one point, Hikaru made in offhand comment to Tamaki about their (Tamaki and Haruhi) future with kids and Haruhi about died on the spot

His kids are 6 yrs apart

By the time his son was born, Hikaru knew what the hell he was doing and totally had everything figured out

quit laughing Kaoru he’s trying his best

His son was named after Kaoru

The differences between how Hikaru raised his kids really show sometimes

With his daughter, he let her get away with a lot more than he should have growing up, he was very lenient and he didn’t quite understand parents aren’t supposed to be their kids’ best friend so she basically got anything she wanted for a long time and that was a hard habit to break for both Hikaru and his daughter

(and considering she was the first kid and between all the hosts and the first grandchild in the family, she was spoiled a lot)

With his son, as his son grew up in a two-parent home with his older sister being at her mom’s 50% of the time, he tried being more strict—he learn his lesson letting his first kid having whatever she wanted—although it was hard as he and his wife weren’t always on the same page when it came to disciplining their son

Hikaru and his wife discussed having another kid, but 2 ended up being plenty (even if the oldest was back and forth between Hikaru and her mother and only spent half the time and every other holiday/birthday with him)

He really is trying his best tho and all he hopes is that his children grow up knowing that

Kaoru upon finding out:

Unlike Hikaru, Kaoru was married for several years before his first kid

They actually tried for a little over 2 yrs to get pregnant with no luck for the longest time—he was beginning to think something was wrong—until Hikaru told him his wife was pregnant, then Kaoru’s wife found out she was pregnant (they were born 3 weeks apart)

Kaoru was super exited for have his first kid

After all, he had all that practice with his niece and his little sister (who was born as they began college)

In all honested, Kaoru was physically and financially prepared for parenthood (buuuut probably not mentally)

His first kid was a boy born at 2 in the morning after 36 hrs of labor, he was exhausted, his wife was exhausted, everyone was getting cranky and Hikaru’s first baby mama made labor look easy and Kaoru was not expecting it to be so bad—or that his wife had such a strong grip on his poor hand—but hot damn holding his son for the first time made everything worth it

I don’t have anything else to add here my brain hurts

Kaoru as a father:

Respectively, Kaoru had more experience with raising kids than his brother did (and he learned a lot from his brother’s mistakes)

Although with all his previous experiences, nothing prepared Kaoru for actually parenthood—it was nothing like watching his niece and little sister

He worked nights for a while so someone would be home with the baby

He didn’t want his son in any kind of childcare facility—nothing against them he swears, he just doesn’t like the idea of someone else taking care of his kid that he doesn’t know

Kaoru and his wife started having problems when their son was around 1-1&1/2yo, but trying staying together for their son’s sake. They ended up  divorcing when their son was 5 after Kaoru had fallen out of love with her

Co-parenting wasn’t as easy with Kaoru and his ex-wife as Hikaru and his baby mama made it look (damn Hikaru had to be a pro at this point)

He didn’t get to see his son a lot after the divorce as his ex-wife had custody. 

This killed Kaoru. All he wanted was to be there for his son. He grew up with his parents working a lot and being away and he swore he would never let his kid grow up without him around. He ended up only getting his son every other holiday/birthday and during breaks from school

Kaoru treasured every minute of it

Kaoru remarried a few years later and his husband treated his son like he was his own kid any time they had his son

They ended up adopting a little girl (about the time his son was 7 or 8) and a little boy a few years later

 Kaoru didn’t really have the best relationship with his oldest until he was in his mid-teens

I know I didn’t stay exactly on task here and I kinda went off and stated headcanons based around their lives as parents rather than how they are as parents and I apologized for that. This was very fun to write for and I enjoyed every minute of it. Thanks for the ask! Sorry it was so long, I’ve been working on this literally since the ask hit my inbox...

[teatitty]

Jailhouse Rock

A/N: Hey remember when I said I wanted to write a traditional fantasy AU with Patrochilles and DiarCu? This is based in that. I hate copy-pasting things to tumblr bc it never keeps my italics and I’m too lazy to edit this so here it is on AO3 as well

Days of peace were rare for Patroclus; even rarer still were the days without Achilles or Cu Chulainn around to stir up mischief. On his own, Patroclus liked to think he was a perfect example of good behaviour and that his own troublemaking was nothing more than a direct result of knowing two of the biggest arseholes this side of the continent, but whenever he voiced such a thing out loud, the response from his companions was always an intense roll of the eyes and a bark of laughter, so maybe he was just lying to himself.

Given his current predicament, that certainly seemed to be the case. In retrospect, he should’ve figured he’d end up getting arrested one of these days, but when you spend most of your time in the company of two people who somehow - consistently - manage to get themselves out of trouble, well, you sort of forget that consequences for your actions are a thing you need to worry about.

In his own defense, he hadn’t planned on getting arrested. It isn’t much of a defense, because he cannot recall a single person who has ever wanted to get thrown into a jail cell with shackles on their wrists (it didn’t matter that his own had been taken off earlier, it mattered that they’d bothered to put any on him in the first place), but he also hasn’t met every single person on the planet, so he supposes the defense counts for something.

He wonders who Achilles will be angrier at when he finds out about this; Patroclus, for punching the stupid fucking Guard in the face and breaking his pompous nose, or the Guard himself, for calling re-inforcements and manhandling Patroclus into this dingy, damp little cell. It’s not a matter of if Achilles will find out, so much as when he finds out, and Patroclus can only hope it’s soon, because he’s only been in here for a few hours and he’s already bored out of his god-damned mind.

The Guards posted outside of his cell won’t even talk to him. It’s extremely rude, in his opinion, not to entertain a guest when they’re groaning pitifully on the floor, even if said groaning was mostly due to the head pain. He really needs to learn the name of the Guard who clonked him. Bastard had a real mean arm and Patroclus itches to get some sort of revenge for the hit.

Alas, it doesn’t seem as though he’ll be getting that information anytime soon. He’ll just have to track the guy down once he gets sprung from this place and then clonk them from behind and see how they like it.

“You know,” he says conversationally, “if you ask me, I did you all a favour. I mean, he just has one of those voices, you know? The really annoying ones? The ones that just invite you to hit someone?” Nothing. Typical. Patroclus sighs up at the ceiling with exaggerated effort. “I love our little talks. Can’t get enough of them, truly.”

Maybe, if he talks long enough, one of them will actually tell him to shut up instead of just trying to glare holes into him through their helmets. Patroclus snorts at the thought. If that worked, then Achilles would’ve been dead a hundred times over by now. Or just covered in a lot more scars than he already has. Which is none. Obviously. Ugh, he really needs to get better company.

As if the Gods themselves heard his plea and were, for once in their lives, actually offering to help him, a commotion from the halls causes him to sit up with immense interest, and the Guards by his cell close their eyes and actually groan.

Whoever is being led - in chains? Sounds like it - down the hall, everyone clearly knows them, because even the other prisoners, who’ve been silent until now, start murmuring curses to themselves.

Finally, Patroclus thinks, some variety.

“ - I just think that in the grand scheme of things - and purely for everyone else’s interest, of course - that stealing a few rings from the locals isn’t that big of a deal when I’m just going to be selling them later. I’m helping the economy! Helping you pass money from one hand to another and get it circulating. How’s your wife, by the way, is she still getting the bad cramps? Of course she is. I can see it in your face. You really should take my advice and -”

“Diarmuid.” A Guard has never sounded so long-suffering before.

“Hm?”

“Shut up and get in the damn cell.”

Surprisingly enough, with a huge stroke of good fortune, the cell that this blessing in disguise - Diarmuid, his name is Diarmuid, Patroclus reminds himself. He’s never been very good at names - is dancing his way into, happens to be Patroclus’ very own, and he finds himself looking at a man who is decidedly, one hundred percent, not human at all.

Patroclus grins, absolutely delighted by this turn of events. Diarmuid, noticing that he is not alone in this cell, cocks his head to the side and just sort of. Stands there. Presumably blinking at him, but it’s hard to tell behind the tinted glasses perched on his nose. “Oh my gods,” Patroclus says before he can stop himself, “are you an elf?”

“No,” replies Diarmuid slowly. “But I can see why you’d think that.”

“He’s a menace,” one of the Guards mutters and Patroclus’ grin only widens.

“I knew you could talk,” he tells them and then to Diarmuid he says, “you have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get them to say something.”

“Oh,” Diarmuid says, “I’m not hallucinating then.”

“Not used to having company?”

“Not usually.”

He looks - well, if Patroclus had to hazard a guess, he’d say that Diarmuid looks completely out of his depth. “Don’t worry,” Patroclus tells him. “I don’t bite.” Which isn’t entirely a lie. He doesn’t bite usually but all bets are off when tavern brawls happen.

Diarmuid’s nose wrinkles. “Is that a hickey?”

It is, actually, though it’s a wonder he can see it at all amidst the other bruising. “I don’t bite,” Patroclus repeats, “but my boyfriend’s a bit of a dick.”

Something in Diarmuid’s posture relaxes at that admission, which is very interesting, and Patroclus pats the spot beside himself invitingly. He’s actually surprised when Diarmuid sits next to him. He’s less surprised that there’s an obvious gap being kept between them and that, unlike himself, Diarmuid’s posture remains straight and alert.

“Soooo…” Patroclus starts, “what are you in for?”

“That’s the best you could do, huh?”

Oh, a snarky one is he? Good thing Patroclus is used to that, or he might actually find this guy irritating. “What do you want me to start with, then? The fact that you’re apparently a regular visitor here? That you probably know everyone’s first names and family histories?”

“I wish he didn’t,” mutters the other Guard forlornly.

“Shut up,” hisses the first one, “don’t encourage them.”

“Too late for that,” they say in unison. The Guards curse.

There’s a long beat of silence as Patroclus waits to see if Diarmuid will reply to his earlier question. His patience pays off when, finally, Diarmuid sighs and says, “I got caught selling stolen goods for twice the profit.”

Patroclus whistles. “Impressive.” He means it. Sure, he got caught doing it, but the fact he had the balls to try at all - and, by the sounds of it, actually managed to make some of said profit - is worth applauding.

“And you?”

Patroclus shrugs. “Broke someone’s nose.”

“Holy shit,” Diarmuid breathes, “you’re the guy who finally shut Claudius’ trap up?”

“His name is Claudius?” A nod. “No wonder he’s such a dick, then. Hey! Tell your boss that I don’t regret what I did, alright? With a name like that, he had it coming to him!”

“You’re going to get a longer sentence if you do that.” Diarmuid sounds amused as anything. Patroclus grins back at him. He wonders how long Diarmuid’s sentence is and how many times he’s gotten his way out of it.

“Nah,” he says. “I’ll be out by tomorrow.”

“Because of your boyfriend?”

“Something like that.”

“Lucky,” Diarmuid whines. “I have to rely on my natural charm, and here you are getting Out Of Jail cards for free.”

They’re only ‘free’ if you don’t count the cost on Patroclus’ brain cell capacity, because for all that he loves Achilles with his entire soul, his boyfriend is, in fact, an idiot, and this has only seemed to get worse since they met Cu Chulainn a few years back. How does that saying go again? ‘Birds of a feather flock together?’

What does it say about him that he’s part of this flock? Nothing good, probably, so best not to think too much about it.

“Are you a vampire?”

“Okay, now you’re just naming every creature with pointy ears.”

Patroclus slumps down in his seat. “I don’t have much else to go on.” And it doesn’t look like Diarmuid is going to willingly give him any hints. “A dragonborn, maybe?”

Alright, maybe that one's a little bit of a deep cut, given how rare they are these days, but, hey, if he’s going for every race with pointed ears then…

“Also,” he continues, “you’re not a ‘creature’ you’re just a different race to a human.”

“Flattering,” Diarmuid says dryly. Patroclus doesn’t really get how any of that is ‘flattering’ in any way, shape or form but then what does he know? He’s human, after all, so maybe he really has just said something that - whatever. Doesn’t matter. He’s making friends! Cu will be so proud of him.

Does he have a concussion? Probably. None of his thoughts are making any sense today.

“I’m not a dragonborn.”

Okay, strike two off the list.

“Or a vampire.”

Strike three.

This would be so much easier if he wasn’t just relying on ‘ears pointy’ because that...really doesn’t narrow it down a whole lot. Are there really that many races with pointed ears? How has he never noticed this before? “You sure you’re not an elf? Or, like, elf adjacent?”

“If you were anyone else,” says Diarmuid, “I would’ve hit you for that. Luckily for you, I’m pretty sure you’re just a mouthy moron like I am, so congrats on saving your own skin, I guess.”

“It’s a gift,” he grins.

Diarmuid snorts. Progress is being made. Fuck yeah. “You’re not used to being in a cell, are you?”

Patroclus shrugs. “Not particularly.”

“First time?”

Oh now that’s just too easy a line to pass up. “Being in the company of a gorgeous man like yourself?” His lashes flutter and Diarmuid actually looks a little bit bewildered. “Hardly.”

“You...have a boyfriend.”

Astute of him.

“I do,” he agrees. “We have a comfortable and confident relationship.” By which he means that they’re allowed to flirt with whoever they want, whenever they want, it’s just dating and sex that are off limits until further discussion. Diarmuid - doesn’t really seem to get what he means. Which. Okay then. “Flirting is fine,” he clarifies with an easy tone.

“Oh.”

He still sounds a bit miffed by the whole thing so, in an effort to bring them back to their earlier comfort levels, Patroclus says, “lets play a game.”

Diarmuid stares at him. “A game,” he repeats.

“Just something to pass the time.”

“Am I going crazy or are you always like this?”

“It’s just me.” He feels no embarrassment in admitting it either. His mouth often moves faster than his brain can catch up, or his brain will move faster than his mouth, and rarely do they ever operate at the same capacity as each other. He forgets that not everyone can keep up with his rapid changes in conversation. Achilles’ mother is the only one who can understand him all of the time, but she’s back home in her river, so he has to - make an effort to slow down a little bit here.

How annoying.

“Ever heard of 21 Questions?”

The silence continues for long enough this time that Patroclus is almost completely certain he’s just gotten rejected. Diarmuid sighs. “Sure. I reserve the right to refuse answering anything personal, though.”

For all his earlier chatter, he’s surprisingly guarded and private. This, along with his keeping his own race a secret, intrigues Patroclus a lot more than it should. There’s a dull and distant warning bell ringing in his head; caution, it screeches, CAUTION.

“I reserve the same thing, then.”

Diarmuid blows some hair out of his face and, presumably, rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “I suppose,” he sighs dramatically. His lip twitches into a smile. Generously, Patroclus lets him go first. “What’s your name?”

He blinks, startled, and then laughs. “Oh I’m such an idiot,” he says and then holds out his hand. Diarmuid is wearing leather gloves under his shackles. Interesting. “It’s Patroclus. Pleasure to meet you.”

His grip is a little firmer than Patroclus expected but nowhere near the strength of Cu Chulainn’s. Which is a bit of an unfair comparison considering Cu’s specific bloodline but. Well. He doesn’t have a whole lot of non-human references to go on. Diarmuid holds himself as though he’s waiting to get shanked in the gut and Patroclus, ever so politely, asks, “what’s your favourite drink?”

Diarmuid blinks. “What?”

“Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, wagging his finger. “Not your turn to ask a question.”

“...tequila,” Diarmuid says at last.

“Oh that’s strong! I thought you might be an ale drinker, what with all the leathers and the -” he gestures to the window of the cell, hoping to encompass the city as a whole.

“Ah,” says Diarmuid. “Ale’s too bitter for me.”

“And tequila isn’t?”

His lip quirks. “Not your turn.”

“Right you are! Continue, then.”

“Who's your boyfriend?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Achilles.”

Diarmuid promptly chokes, as do the Guards outside. “You’re kidding. You don’t mean - you can’t mean -”

Patroclus inclines his head, delighted by the reaction. Achilles is famous here! Who knew!

“Holy shit.” Diarmuid’s voice raises a few octaves. “He’s going to kill me.”

“I doubt it,” says Patroclus dryly. “He’s more likely to whine about me getting better prison company than he did.”

“I’m not talking about Achilles,” hisses Diarmuid. “I’m talking about Cu Chulainn!”

Wait.

Wait a second.

Patroclus takes a step back to examine the man before him. Dark, curly hair? Check. A penchant for getting arrested? From what he can gather, check. Pointy ears? Absolutely. And -

He leans closer to try and get a whiff of whatever scent Diarmuid carries.

-- the distinct smell of a winter breeze.

A lot of different things fall into place at once.

“You’re the friend that Cu’s been looking for. The one that lost his favourite jacket.”

“I’m dead,” says Diarmuid. “I’ve been trying to get it back for him and now I’m going to die before I get the chance.”

“Is that why you were selling stolen goods?”

Reluctantly, Diarmuid nods. “I know where it is,” he admits mulishly. “I just don’t have the money to buy it back.”

Patroclus thinks this over. He doesn’t have any money either. Fuck it, he thinks, we’re already criminals anyway.

“Okay,” he says. “If you can get us out of here, I’ll help you get it back.”

“Don’t even try it,” warns Guard number one.

Diarmuid gives Patroclus a pathetically hopeful look. “You will?”

“Yes. On the condition,” he continues, “that you return it to him in person.”

“You know where he is.”

“I know where he is.”

Diarmuid considers this for all of two seconds. “Deal.”

And then he slips out of his shackles and shatters the fucking window with them.

[inknose]

mdzs read diary part IV, the end

It’s inspiring how much self care wwx is gonna finally get now that his husband will go along with whatever he does, so he’s gotta look out for lwj’s well being if not his own. that is emphatically the STUFF

dragging my hands down I face as I read this, after all these chapters of getting up close and personal with ghouls bleeding from every orifice, slaying ancient beasts, rebelling against the entire cultivation world, the two of them are absolutely paralyzed by middle school crush sleepover math

chicken

he actually drew kissy doodles .... he....

IDK I THINK I JUST DOCUMENTED THIS PART CUZ I WAS STILL SCREAMING you cant expect me to have very useful things to say at this point

this is torture you are both so mushy you are so GONE

This part really stood out to me, it’s an attitude I feel like wwx implies with his inner narration a few times but most clearly says here: he’s not one for allowing himself to exaggerate how bad his circumstances are/could be even a little bit - he’s already lived through some extreme low points and found a way to keep going, so he never makes sweeping statements about what he couldn’t live without (Inner JingYi: you’re supposed to say you’d be lost without him here!!!) Instead he seems to accept as a given that being alive doesn’t guarantee him any pleasantness or joy at all, and as a result his feelings toward being in TRUE LOVE are surprisingly pragmatic, but also colored with such gratitude. There are a lot of things in the novel that struck me, like this, as being just a little to the left of familiar tropes/sentiments, and were more touching for it. Whether it be the influence of culture difference as opposed to what I’m used to reading in most western romance stories, or MXTX’s unique outlook, or a combination of both, it was really refreshing and made me pause over it. Not “I can’t imagine living without you” but “I could be living without you, but instead I get to be with you and I think that’s the best thing that could happen.”

ADJFDKFJ THE UST BEING SO STRONG THAT EVEN THE VILLAIN COMMENTS ON IT IN THE MIDDLE OF EXECUTING HIS EVIL PLANS IS ONE OF THOSE THINGS THAT WILL NEVER FAIL TO MAKE ME LAUGH MY ASS OFF. hes like god damn! here I thought I had problems

it was at this moment that I realized we were doing this Now... I’m still recovering. What a scene. I am so glad I saw the most incredible fanart soon afterwards, bc the fact that someone has already drawn a perfect comic of this part means I don’t have to

I love you so much, you are so annoying, you are perfect... I like how he’s been experiencing openly requited love for all of ten minutes but he’s already figured out how to weaponize it to piss people off

doing!!! his!!! job!!!!!

ahh... it’s a really good story. JGY is a great character. One of the most interesting differences for me between drama watching vs. novel reading experience is that without an actor to bat his vulnerable doe eyes at you and smile faintly with his cute dimples, the book does not go much out of its way to try to lull the reader into a false sense of security around him or *endear* him to you the way the show does. But just by seeing events through wei wuxian’s POV, its still enough to evoke pity or understanding towards him. The overall impression is a bit more detached though, there’s less emphasis on the spectacle of how he could manipulate everyone closest to him and more of a general feeling of resigned tragedy that everyones the worst on this bitch of an earth.

I CANNOT DEAL WITH YOU FOR EVEN ONE MORE SECOND!!!!

I clearly paused to take note of less and less parts at the end & the extras due to: a) too excited to reach the end b) too spicy to photograph and c) too sleepy cuz I kept reading in the middle of the night. but I absolutely took the time for Bro We Are Teens appreciation corner:

I’d absolutely read 40 more extra chapters of their monster-of-the-week field trip antics.

god... poor Jin Ling now basically has to deal with divorced parents that talk shit about each other to him whenever he is saying with one of them. except they are both his uncles. just a disasterhood of all uncles from start to finish. AUUUGH wei wuxian and jiang cheng have fucked me up completely, I dream of them reconciling but I also REFUSE to believe it would ever be easy. let me know if theres a fanfic that absolutely tortures you for decades before they hug

HAHAHA oh no this man ain’t making it to immortality thats for damn sure. HE’S JUST GONNA TRY AS HARD AS HE CAN HIS WHOLE LIFE NOT TO LOOK AT HIM BUT THEYRE *MARRIED* SDLKFJSF ohhhh it’s too funny, like... the mundane domestic family drama IN the fantastical swords and sorcery setting is what really ratchets up these things from amusing to fucking hilarious I think

aaaa the end... final random thoughts? No not final, I would like to please keep discussing at length and exhaustively, all the time please - CQL has gotta be one of the best TV adaptations I’ve seen. ANY adaptation of anything would be lucky to be so good!! reading the novel has just made me appreciate it even more.

- I don’t think I can do justice to what I find most fascinating about comparing the two versions briefly, to do that I need to get drunk and ramble at my friends for hours but... the condensed version is something like this. Really all the significant differences between the two versions (besides the ones which can be attributed to censorship and therefore aren’t worth discussing) are a side effect of the structure of how the story is told - there’s barely anything changed arbitrarily. Aside from having a cold opening, the drama sticks to a very linear version of the story, and I think for a TV show or film, that’s probably the best way to do it. We see everything, we get shocked and tricked and betrayed and surprised along with the characters, we feel the biggest impact at the climactic scenes having experienced all the build-up. The novel on the other hand is not only much more non-linear in WHEN we learn bits and pieces of information, but that information is also obfuscated under wei wuxian’s multiple layers of Unreliable Narratoritis, which are as follows: 1) difficulty remembering things because of personality/avoiding painful memories/actual memory loss, 2) No Homo Goggles still on, and 3) a wry sense of humor that makes the reader unsure of how much they can trust his attitude toward things, especially near the beginning. The experience of reading is a puzzle the reader has to mentally piece together through all of the above listed camouflage, and the puzzle itself is a three-sided mystery: One - How Bad of a guy was Wei WuXian really, and how exactly did all the bad stuff in his life go down; Two - wangxian epic pride & prejudice gambits; Three - political murder mystery. (I love stories like this btw... though I fully admit I’m glad I watched first this time bc it might have taken me a long time to tackle otherwise.) Because of this, where the drama wants to pull you in and submerge you in all the most potent emotional parts, the novel in direct contrast deliberately side-steps around these things and asks that you hurt yourself by filling in the blanks. In fact the more intense emotions and painful memories involved, whether it be his relationship with jiang yanli, his DEATH, the darkest days of war times etc, the more the novel evasively withholds details. I actually really like both styles of storytelling but each one is obviously way better suited to its medium. ANYWAY.... THATS BASICALLY WHERE MY BRAINS AT WHILE IM READING GAY SWORD WIZARD BOOKS

- The extras are so saturated with domestic married bliss that it’s a good thing I stopped taking pictures because I’d just take a picture of every page. this is too much for me to take... I did jump the gun a few times and read a few fanfics while I was still mid-read of the book (I tried to hold out but alas I am mortal) and at one point after finishing I was like “wow what fic was it in where lwj says something cute and wwx kisses him in public but they’re in the corner of the restaurant so no one really sees... OH NO WAIT that was actually in there.” and ... and that’s the LEAST OF IT... *stares into the distance* theyre married wow

- I ofc couldn’t help but see a few vague blogs beforehand so honestly I was braced for something like, wildly ooc for the sake of porn to happen in the extras... I definitely appreciate how the incense burner porn interludes could be uhhh a lot for many people and not my personal cup of tea in terms of smut however [here follows the words of a poisonous frog who has dwelt her whole life in the rainforests of BL] the concept is also surprisingly SWEET SDFLKJF like wwx sees lan wangji’s darkest mixed-up violent teenage fantasies and he’s just like aww babe you had a crush on me!! just... good for them

- I swear I’m not gonna rehash every cute married thing they do but wei wuxian grading papers in the tub........................rEALLY GOT ME

- I want to Draw - ok thats enough if I keep going I’ll just write “wei wuxian grading papers in the tub” seven more times probably

[irrelevantwriter]

By The Light Of The Moon

Pairing: Negan x Witch!Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, mutual masturbation, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, Negan getting seriously mind fucked, spooky tings (bc its Halloween and I’m in the spirit)

Word Count: 6.5K

Summary: Negan takes notice of a beautiful stranger at The Sanctuary. You’re willing to offer a lot more than he signed up for.

A/N: So, because I can’t possibly help myself, I’ve decided to do a take on the Hopper x Witch fic I did and do one for my OG Daddy Negan. This one is A LOT more in depth and long AF, but so worth it. This idea was perfect for Negan and I can’t wait to see what you guys think! Enjoy and share with your friends!

P.S.

Requests are still coming! This def got me in the headspace for Negan again. Be on the lookout. And if you’d liked to be tagged in any of my stories, holla at your girl.

*Masterlist in bio.

**********************

Negan swung Lucille at his side, deciding to bring her along on his trek through The Sanctuary’s marketplace. The air was crisp and smelled of pumpkin and apple spices. According to his timekeepers, it was the night before Halloween. And The Sanctuary was in full spirit.

Baked goods permeated the air while children rushed to put a costume together. Negan couldn’t help the smile that fell on his lips at the sights and smells. It felt good to be festive and he’d decided to stroll through his kingdom to take in all it had to offer.

Of course he did have an ulterior motive for such a visit. He was Negan after all. He never did anything without a reason. And his stroll had a purpose.

As if seemingly overnight, the whole place had become enchanted with a woman selling homemade goods in the market. She apparently made soaps, candles, and oil remedies, among other things. And they seemed to work, at least by the accounts of his people. It sounded like hippie shit to him. But even Simon had brought her up, talking nonstop about the fucking lotion she made him for his sore shoulder. The man seemed hypnotized...everyone did. And Negan came to find out just exactly what all the fuss was about.

People dropped to their knees as he moved through the crowd, but he waved them off. He was here on pleasure, not business. His dark eyes found a booth in the corner with a crowd surrounding it, the person in charge not visible through the shoppers. Negan made his way over, sure this was where he was headed.

A hushed silence filled the air as he strode up, effectively making his way to the front of the line. He smiled when his eyes caught the beauty behind the table. He understood why so many people were taken with you. You were stunning.

He bit his lip, his toothy grin on full display as he took you in. Beyond your obvious attractiveness, there was a magnetic pull, something he couldn’t quite explain. It was mystic and not solid, like a fog. And he could feel it calling to him.

“Well, what do we have here?” He bellowed, making the people nearby pause. He found he didn’t care to have an audience so he dismissed them, insinuating the booth was closed to everyone except him.

He observed you, trying to read your expressions. You didn’t seem at all perturbed by his actions. In fact, you seemed somewhat amused. A smile turned one corner of your lips and he found himself mirroring the gesture.

“So you’re the one who everyone’s been going on about?” He gestured with his free hand to your surroundings, appearing as if he was unimpressed by your reputation.

Truth was...he was intrigued. And mildly suspicious. Not much got by him at The Sanctuary, if anything. The fact that you’d gone under the radar and passed his keen eye peaked his interest.

“Guess so.” You replied simply, face still unmoving.

He grunted, a little disappointed at your lack of response.

He’d be the first to say what an arrogant, self-righteous asshole he was. Leading a community had made him a hardened man. People respected him. They feared him. And women were enamored with him. They practically threw themselves at his feet. Your blasé attitude made him falter. Yet he found himself inexplicably drawn to you...to your energy. Whatever the fuck that meant.

He picked up a bottle filled with thick ivory cream. The handwritten label said it was body lotion with hints of lavender and vanilla. He wasn’t usually into the fresh scents of body washes and lotions, but he had to admit that the shit smelled amazing.

“Your products are all the rage around here, doll.” He perused your table, picking up a random item here and there to scent. His fingers stopped on a drawstring bag with herbs, the label identifying it as a sleep aide.

“A lot of people feel that they work. Helps them get through the days a little easier.” You explained, following him down the table.

Negan nodded, lifting a lavender candle to his nose. The fucking thing smelled heavenly. “So I’ve heard.”

“You should take some.” You offered, gesturing to the bag of herbs he’d been eyeing moments before.

“For sleep? Why would I need that?” He questioned, almost offended you assumed he didn’t get quality rest.

“It’s the most popular. Not many of us get a good night’s rest these days. I imagine leading this place makes it difficult to fully relax.” You picked up the bag and held it out to him, a pleasant smile still present on your lips.

Negan studied you long and hard, uncaring if he made you uncomfortable. He didn’t appear to though. You stood facing him head on, eyes catching his in a captivating stare off.

“How long have you been here? At The Sanctuary.” He watched as you finally let your hand fall, giving up on passing the herbs to him.

“A couple of months.”

“Who brought you in?” He pressed, eyebrow arched and jaw clenched in an intimidating fashion.

“I don’t remember.”

Negan shook his head and pursed his lips, unhappy with your answer. “Sounds a little suspicious to me.”

He waited a beat to see if you’d react. You didn’t.

“What’s your name, doll?”

“Doll is fine.”

He chuckled, amused by your answer. “You’d be the first to say so.”

He sighed and straightened his back, standing to his full height. He could tell that there was something different about you, something enigmatic. He hadn’t figured out if it was good or bad. He felt the need to push you for answers, to learn every detail of your life, both past and present. But he could also feel a nagging in the back of his head, a nagging that was urging him to let it go.

He decided he would. For now. At least until he could fuck you. Which he planned to do soon.

“I’ll take the herbs and a candle, doll.”

***********************************************

Negan awoke with a start. His body was prickled with sweat, his limbs feeling like lead weights. He reached on his nightstand for his watch, taking note of the still black night outside his windows.

12:00 am.

It was Halloween.

And he’d only been asleep for a few hours.

He searched his memory, trying to piece together his evening. His mind felt oddly foggy and he had to concentrate hard on remembering.

He’d made it to his room after fucking Tanya’s red-headed brains out and then ate his dinner. Then, he’d gone over some notes with Simon for the meeting the next day and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He’d remembered the bag of herbs he’d bought from you and decided to give them a try. He’d followed your instructions and mixed them into a warm mug of water, making sure the liquid went from clear to a light yellow. He found that detail odd, but you’d assured him it was normal.

He drank it. The mixture had a surprisingly pleasant taste. And then he’d apparently passed out because his memory stopped there.

His mouth felt dry and he fumbled for a bottle of water he kept nearby. He drained its contents, wayward drops of water landing on his bare chest instead.

He wiped his mouth and the sweat from his brow, scanning his bedroom for the thing that woke him. Everything appeared to be in order. He stopped and listened, waiting to hear a noise or two. Nothing. All was quiet.

He was overcome with the sudden compulsion to seek you out. It startled him how much he wanted to do so. And while he knew the hour was late and he had no real reason for doing so, he did it anyway.

Negan walked the silent halls of The Sanctuary, somehow knowing exactly where to find you. He moved quickly, the urge to see your face now a desperate craving. Everyone was asleep. Not a soul was up or moving about. That fact was odd. The factory always stayed alive with some sort of activity, even in the dead of night.

That wasn’t the case tonight.

He made it to your closed door in minutes, the light coming from beneath signaling that you were still awake. His heart was hammering in his chest, his body suddenly having a strong reaction to your proximity. He felt off. He’d felt off since he woke up, but he couldn’t figure out what exactly was wrong. All he knew was that he had to see you.

He knocked softly, listening for movement beyond the wooden barrier. He heard a shuffle of feet and then the knob turned. Your figure was illuminated by the light at your back as you opened the door. A wave of lavender and rose scent hit him, instantly putting him in a state of relaxation. He hungrily took in your appearance. A white nightgown that stopped just above your knees adorned your frame. It was a thin cotton material, the fabric nearly see through. It was a mesmerizing sight.

“Hi, I uh…” He found himself at a loss for words. A true first. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, doll.” He scratched at the back of his neck, attempting to focus on your face and not your seemingly impeccable pair of tits.

“It’s okay.” You said softly, smiling up at him as you spoke.

You suddenly stepped away from the doorway and out of Negan’s line of vision. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment before you returned, only this time you had a long black knit cardigan on and flats on your feet. You made a move to step into the hallway with him and he backed up quickly to allow you to do so.

“What’re you doing?” He asked as you turned back to face him.

“Taking you somewhere.” You reached for his hand, pulling him with you down the hallway. Negan followed, though he was unaware of why he was doing so.

“Where? It’s the middle of the goddamn night.” He questioned, taking notice of how you moved with such ease through the maze of halls.

“Somewhere special.” You threw over your shoulder as you led him outside into the chilly October evening.

The sky was black, probably the blackest Negan had ever seen it. But the moon was full and it was illuminating everything. It cast a ghostly glow on the factory and the surrounding woods. A breeze swept through the trees, the remaining leaves falling off their limbs almost instantly. The night was soundless, just like The Sanctuary. It was unusual. Not even the low, decaying groans of the dead could be heard.

“Where’s my fucking guards?” He asked you, somehow knowing you would know the answer. He gestured to the lookout posts atop the fences, the empty spaces making him pause. You pulled against his hand, your flesh suddenly heating him from the inside out.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be fine.” You soothed.

It worked. And he was back to following you beyond the fences.

The woods were dense and difficult to navigate, but you maneuvered through them like you’d been doing it for years. He let you lead him. His body and mind followed you, trusted you. He realized how bizarre and extremely out of character his behavior was, but he couldn’t put a stop to it. Nor did he want to.

The cabin was nestled deep into the woods, but close enough to The Sanctuary that Negan wondered how he’d missed it. It had clearly been here for some time, but appeared to still be kept up by someone. There was a soft glow of light from a window, a billow of smoke rising into the night from the chimney. It was both a welcoming and ominous sight.

They hadn’t encountered any of the dead throughout their journey. He hadn’t even heard an animal rustle in the trees. It was if they were they only two people alive. He found he didn’t mind that fact. It was obvious he was willing to follow you anywhere.

You opened the door of the cabin and ushered him inside. The intoxicating scents of lavender filled his nostrils, the sensation making his eyes roll into the back of his head. He suddenly felt buzzed, as if he’d downed several shots of whiskey. His senses felt dulled and heightened all at the same time. He was entranced by you, by this place.

Orange flames burned in the fireplace, illuminating the space. An old table with two chairs sat near a makeshift kitchen, herbs and flowers hanging from the window to dry out. A small sofa and a chair made up the living room next to the fire. A bookcase held rows and rows of thick, leather-bound books. The titles were too small for Negan to see from his spot near the door, but he could tell the spines were worn with time.

His attention was diverted to the back corner where a large bed sat. It was adorned in black sheets and a dark purple blanket. Black lace hung from the four-poster railings, surrounding the bed in a veil of darkness. Candles littered the surfaces of two nightstands, the wax falling downward onto the wood top to escape the heat of the flame.

“Here.” You appeared in front of him with a steaming cup of liquid. You’d removed your cardigan and flats, your shoulders bare and calling to him.

“What is it?” He asked, accepting the drink. He inspected it, but it looked unremarkable. He took an exploratory sip, the smell wafting up to him .

“Tea.” You answered, moving behind him to remove his leather jacket. He let you, as had become the pattern for the evening.

Your hands danced along his arms, inspecting his tattoos with curiosity. He remained still, taking small sips from the mug as you did so. He felt your touch run up his bicep and over his shoulders, caressing the chords in his neck as you explored. Your palm made contact with his bearded cheek and he nuzzled into the warmth.

“You’re very important, Negan.” You mused, moving a strand of out of place hair from his forehead.

“Of course I fucking am. I’m a leader.” He agreed, his smug attitude finally making a comeback.

You smiled at his response and took the mug from his hand. You placed it on the table behind you and moved back into his personal space. Your hands gripped at his white t-shirt, your body pressing into his.

“That’s not what I meant.” You whispered into his neck, lips grazing his flesh.

His body broke out into shivers at the touch of your lips. He could feel your body heat radiating from you, the thrum of your heartbeat echoing in his ears. He wondered if you could hear his too with the way it was pumping.

“You have a purpose. I want to show you what that purpose is.” You pressed your lips against his suddenly, your tongue demanding permission to explore him.

Negan gripped your hips in return, matching your ferocity with his own. You tasted as good as you looked and he couldn’t get enough. He affixed himself to you, pressing closer as you threaded your fingers through his hair. Your breasts pushed into him and he responded with a thrust of his hips into yours. You pulled your mouth from his, peppering his neck with sensual kisses and determined bites.

“My purpose to fuck you? Because that’s about to fucking happen, doll.” He gritted through clenched teeth as one of your hands brushed his fast-hardening cock. He hissed as you bit down particularly hard on his neck and then lapped at it with your tongue seconds later.

You reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling the fabric up and off in record speed. Negan threw his head back as you assaulted his chest with your mouth, your hands playing with the clasps of his pants. The roaring of extreme arousal was making itself known inside of him and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off.

His hands ventured beneath your nightgown and up your bare thighs, colliding with the white scrap of lace that hugged you. Your skin felt smooth, unblemished; as if you hadn’t spent all these years fighting for your life like everyone else. Your aroma was calling to him, making his mouth water and his control wane. He palmed your ass, gripping your flesh with a needy hunger. You moaned into his ear at the action, seemingly pleased with his touch. The air was thick with sexual electricity and Negan knew he wasn’t going to be able to leave this cabin until he had you.

“The bed.” You ordered, your voice coming out low and raspy. It was sexy. Your desire for him so strong that it literally poured from your lips.

Negan steered you both towards the satin and lace fortress, the bed a beacon in a midnight thunderstorm. You stopped him once the back of your knees made contact with the mattress, your lips finally pulling away from his chest and neck. He was sure he had at least a dozen fucking hickeys littering his skin by now.

He waited as you stared up at him, his hands still clutching the globes of your ass. You surprised him by cradling his face in your hands, the moment suddenly becoming intimate. Your eyes held a distinct spark, your lips a knowing smile. It was if you knew something he didn’t…a secret.

“You’ve been through so much pain.” You stated softly, fingers caressing the crow’s feet near his eyes.

He looked down at you with a mixture of confusion and disbelief, unsure of where this was headed. He could see the conviction behind your eyes, as if you really could see the voyage he’d taken and the trauma he’d been through. It made his hair stand on end.

“I can fix that for you.” You stated calmly and confidently, as if you had all the answers to his questions.

He noticed for the first time that your nails were painted a deep red as you ran them across his kiss-swollen lips.

He smirked at your antics, feeling a break in the haze. “Fix me? Hate to break it to you, doll, but I’m a lost fucking cause. Have been for a while.” He teased with a wink. 

He felt like himself again as he ran a calloused and scarred hand around to your lower stomach, grazing the waistband of your panties. You sucked in a breath when he traced your lips through the delicate fabric, feeling the moisture that had already begun to collect. His lust ratcheted up again at the touch of you and he rubbed himself against you in response. Your nipples were distinct peaks against the flimsy fabric of your nightgown and he yearned to wrap his lips around them and suckle like a newborn to its mother’s. He’d fucking live between your perfect breasts if you’d let him.

“I’m going to give you what you need, Negan. I’ll make you better.” You whispered as he took his turn to devour the flesh of your neck.

He smiled against you, entertained by your idea of pillow talk but not fully comprehending it. He didn’t give a shit what you said at this point. His dick was so fucking hard that he had to bury it inside you soon before he combusted.

“Well, since you’re offering…” He pulled back, eyes locked with yours as he pushed down the straps of your gown. “Let me see that glorious fucking body.”

You allowed him to move the fabric down your figure and over your hips, revealing yourself to him. He immediately attached himself to your tits, both mouth and hands working in tandem. Your hands pulled at his hair, keeping him mounted against you but shuddering away in sensitivity. Negan chased you with his lips, intent on marking you like you had him.

He reached a hand between your bodies, impatient with the pace. His gaze followed every curve and soft line of your body, still in awe of the perfection of your skin. It was flawless. You were flawless. A literal fantasy come to life.

Your hands were soon at his button, releasing the fabric from its hold and working it down his legs. He shed his boots quickly and stepped out of the garment, thankful he’d chosen to go commando. He watched you lick your lips at the sight of him and fuck if that didn’t make his balls tighten.

You sat down on the bed, positioning yourself so that he had a completely unobstructed view of the juncture between your thighs. He instinctually began to tug at himself while you touched yourself beneath your panties, your chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. He made it to you in two steps, a hand hooking your ankle and jerking you closer. He ripped the fabric away from your body, catching how soaked the material had gotten. You were fully nude now and practically glistening. He could almost see your pussy throb as he got onto his knees. He hovered there for a moment, taking in the scene. Your scent, your touch, hell, even the sound of your soaked channel. He savored it all.

“Negan, please…” You pleaded and damn did it feel fucking amazing to hear you call his name like that.

“You need me, doll?” He let a finger lazily play with your clit, enjoying the way you jumped at the contact.

“Yes, please…” You begged again, unashamed of your neediness. He liked that. He liked seeing you lose your composure. That shit was fueling him.

He relented and sucked harshly at your pulsing bud, his touch unforgiving. His lips kissed you while his tongue tasted you. He explored you, using his fingers to pry you open to his attack. Your thighs clenched around his head as your body arched off the bed. The candles reflected off your skin and he became awestruck by the image.

He fed on you, his appetite for you far from satiated. He welcomed your flavor on his tongue as he probed your opening, teeth nipping at your swollen lips. You yelped and jolted away, but he held you to him. He felt that drunk feeling again as he quite literally immersed himself in you.

“Don’t stop. I’m gonna cum.” You breathed out, head thrown back and hands struggling for purchase against the smooth sheets.

Negan had no intention of stopping. Instead, he doubled his efforts and ravaged you, seeing the prickle of pain flash across your features from his ruthlessness. You continued to hold his head to you as he attempted to drink every drop that poured from your lips.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes…” You chanted as your body rippled and convulsed with tremors. Negan caught every single one with his mouth, his eyes taking in the way you moaned and writhed. Your skin was slick with perspiration, your lungs rapidly taking in air as you slowly came down from your journey to space.

He stood, his whole body tense in untamable lust. He could feel the dribble of precum on his cock, the appendage begging for attention. He wedged himself between your thighs and submerged his cock in your overflowing dampness. He rutted against you, feeling you reach up to catch him in your folds. He dug his fingertips into your thighs as he let his cock nudge your abused clit. You winced at the oversensitivity.

“Fuck, I need to be inside this fucking pussy.” He growled, recognizing the tingle in his spine starting to form.

Negan didn’t wait for a response as he plunged inside of you, groaning at the instant surge of pleasure at finally being able to do so. He felt your heartbeat within your walls as it thrummed against his cock, squeezing him just right. It was as if you were made just for him. The way you hit every one of his nerves in the most delectable way possible made it seem as if you’d been sculpted for him, a genuine counterpart.

“Shit, that is one tight cunt.”

He moved slow and deep, treasuring the sensation of your body so effortlessly enveloping his. His hands were everywhere as your body became his playground. He held your tits, relishing the way they bounced to the rhythm of his hips. He grasped you throat and squeezed as you moaned for more. He took in the way your body so readily accepted his own, your pussy slickening him for his passage. It all felt fucking perfect. Perfect in a way he’d never experienced before.

“More…I need more.” You demanded, trying to reach for him.

Negan was happy to oblige and bent down to hover over your awaiting mouth. Small gasps escaped your throat as he continued to fuck you, the sound like music to his ears and pulsing dick.

“This what you wanted? This enough for you?” He grunted, angling his hips so that he could feel the natural barrier within you. He heard you whine and drag your nails down his back, the depth of his cock making you want to retreat.

“No, no…take it all, doll.” Negan tutted, forcing your body up the bed as he moved. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your teeth digging into his shoulder. The move sent a jolt through his system and he increased his speed. His hips slapped against your roughly, the loud smack of skin echoing throughout the room. He could feel his balls tightening and his limbs tingle. He wasn’t ready for it to end. He wasn’t ready to separate from your warmth just yet.

He straightened up, bringing you with him. Your body was pliable with his movements, letting him maneuver you how he saw fit. He lifted you into his arms, still impaled on him. He captured your mouth, walking to the head of the bed. He situated himself on the mattress, you still cradled in his arms. Without him having the leverage to thrust, you took it upon yourself to slide up and down on his engorged cock. He faltered at the motion, but recovered in time to position you in his lap.

“Ride me. Let that pussy take what she needs.” He nipped at your bottom lip as he encouraged you to move, slapping your ass in the process.

You didn’t hesitate. You wrapped your arms around his neck and bounced, chasing that ethereal high. Negan buried himself in your breasts, feeling that inebriated sensation start to strengthen. He gripped your hips, anchoring himself to something solid. He felt as if he might float away if he didn’t. He felt entirely too warm and the need to cum was more powerful than any other experience he’d had. His vision felt blurry, yet he could make you out perfectly. He could smell you and only you. Not the fire or the lavender anymore. His ears were attuned to your moans and whimpers, but silence lingered outside of that. He felt like he was in a vacuum of your essence, trapped but not wanting to escape.

“Yes, Negan…please cum.” Your words made him thrust up into you, eager to comply with your breathy request. The tell-tale signs were there. He was ready to let go.

Through the fog he belatedly realized he needed to pull out, not wanting to chance it. He readied himself to remove you from his lap when he felt you clamp down and hold him, your intent obvious.

“It’s okay. Do it. Fill me up.” You nibbled on his ear, tongue tracing his lobe as you massaged his cock with your walls. He went to protest, but stopped. The words died on his lips, his body now running the show. He only thought about you and how fucking magnificent you felt. He thought about how good it would feel to smear you in him. To see you leaking and dripping. The thoughts alone were enough to convince him that he should listen to you.

Your finger teased your clit as you rode him, urging him on. Negan gritted his teeth at the feel of your pussy spasming, your entire body ricocheting with the aftershocks. He surrendered to you and released, your pussy greedily taking from him as he tensed in orgasmic bliss. A hum of approval left your lips at the feel of him driving his seed into you, the warmth and stickiness coating you both.

“Fuck,” He cursed as he screwed his eyes shut. He felt like he’d been pumping for hours, the high lasting a lot longer than he’d anticipated. He felt overcome with exhaustion as he collapsed on the bed, your body still a place holder for his now flaccid cock. He looked up at you as you straddled him, a halo of candlelight encompassing you. He panted as he struggled to catch his breath while your nails dragged through his chest hair. You laid your head on his chest near his heart, your body rising in sync with his.

He was drained. Utterly and completely. He adjusted himself beneath you, feeling his cock slip out of you and land heavily between you. You rubbed yourself against him, his cum aiding the movements. His mind said no more, but his body was responding.

“Doll, this old man needs to rest. I think you broke my dick.” He groaned, feeling aches start to settle into his limbs.

You laughed, your body vibrating against his. “Doesn’t feel broken to me.” You quipped as you traced a finger over the twitching member.

He laughed, despite his fatigue and trailed a hand down your naked back. “You’re something else.”

“Good or bad?”

“Can’t decide yet. But my dick points to good.” He joked, liking the throaty laugh you released at his words. He could feel his eyes getting heavy and that distinct lethargy that came with sleep. He didn’t bother to move you from atop him. He liked your weight nuzzled against him, feeling the beat of your heart with his.

“Sleep.” You said into his chest as you placed a soft kiss near his ribs.

Negan nodded, though he was already halfway into his dreams by the time you spoke.

*******************************************

A loud knock jolted him from his slumber.

Negan sat straight up in his bed, eyes dancing around wildly in search of the intruder. He took in his bedroom skeptically, wondering how he’d gotten back.

Another knock sounded, followed by a call from the beyond the door.

“Boss? You in there?”

It was Simon. And he sounded strangely concerned.

Negan stood from his bed, groaning at the protests his sore limbs were giving him. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and thanked whoever the fuck that he at least had clothes on.

He pulled open the door and came to face-to-face with a worried looking Simon. The man’s own remaining hair was somewhat tousled and his mustache looked uncharacteristically unkempt. He looked like he’d been running his hands through it all day, an action Negan knew he didn’t partake in unless he was nervous about something.

“What is it? What happened?” He demanded, knowing there was something he was missing by the look in his friend’s eye.

He waited as Simon seemed to take him in, appearing to be relieved by his presence. The whole thing was making Negan feel weird.

“You okay? We were worried about you.” The man finally admitted, hand back in his thick moustache.

Negan arched a brow in question. “Worried? Why?”

“Its past noon. You never sleep this late. We didn’t hear from you and got nervous something happened.” He explained, gaze still inspecting Negan closely.

Negan widened his eyes at Simon’s words, not believing what he was saying was true. He raced to his nightstand and grabbed his watch, feeling a sense of déjà vu. The timepiece read back 12:15. It was still working and didn’t appear to have stopped at any point during the night.

He looked back at Simon, perplexed by his unexplained tardiness. He was just about to question his friend more about it when he remembered the previous night. The memories came flooding in like a busted dam. He saw you in that damn nightgown. The cabin in the woods. You riding his dick like a fucking prized pony. It all soared to the surface and through the fog that still littered his mind and body.

“What the fuck happened?” He mumbled to himself as he rubbed at a particularly sore spot on his shoulder. Had to be where you fucking bit him.

“You good, Boss? Need anything?” Simon interrupted from his spot in the doorway.

Negan went to dismiss him, but thought better of it and nodded. “Yeah, find me that girl from the marketplace. The one with all the lotions and shit.”

He waited for a yes sir from his right hand man, but never got one. He met Simon’s confused gaze and went to describe you further when the Savior spoke up.

“What girl? I don’t know anyone like that.”

Negan sighed, trying hard not to take his mounting frustration out on his friend. “Yeah you do, shithead. You bought some lotion from her for your bum shoulder.”

At his blank stare, he continued.

“I spoke to her yesterday. You were fucking there. Struggling to flirt with Meredith at the table with all the shitty DVDs.” Negan explained, attempting to jog Simon’s memory. It didn’t seem to be working.

“We didn’t go to the market yesterday.”

“Yeah, we fucking did.”

“No. I was at The Kingdom yesterday while you went to the northeast outpost.”

Negan shook his head, unable to comprehend what Simon was saying. There was no way that was true. He remembered it as clear as day. He remembered you. Simon had to be wrong. And Negan was going to prove it to him.

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Simon asked, that worry gaze back and aimed squarely on him.

Negan waved him away, searching his room for his boots, jacket, and Lucille. “Yeah, fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Simon hesitated, but he could see that Negan wanted to be alone so he complied.

Negan checked the calendar on his desk, his diligence when crossing off the days a daily ritual. He found the last day that was crossed out.

Halloween.

He wasn’t tripping fucking balls. He had his days right. Now he just had to find you.

**************************************

One month later…

Negan rubbed tiredly at his eyes, wishing he’d worn his reading glasses. He sat at his desk, studying the maps of each community who fell under his territory. It was late and he’d been staring at the goddamn things for hours, though the action was pointless. He wasn’t focused. Hadn’t been since that day a month ago.

He’d never found you.

Thirty days later and there still wasn’t any sign of you, your booth at the market, or your cabin in the woods. He’d had men out looking. Chasing a fucking ghost.

No one knew of you. No one had any recollection of you. Except for him. And it was fucking torture.

You were his elusive seductress, his enchantress. You were all he could think about. You dominated his thoughts, his dreams. Sometimes he felt as if he could still feel you beneath his fingertips. Hear the melodic tune of your pulse against his. A random breeze of lavender would sweep over him, carried by the wind. But you never materialized.

He knew he hadn’t made you up. He knew you weren’t some sort of fever dream. He’d had the marks on his skin to prove it. Scratches down his back, bites along his neck and chest, and the sore limbs from hours of fucking to prove it.

But the more days that passed, the more his memory failed him. His mental image of you faded over time, along with the bruises and scratches that littered his flesh. You were becoming lost in the everyday bustle and he didn’t know how to stop it. He had to give up searching for you, fearing his followers would start to think he was losing his fucking mind. His men already thought so. Simon practically had a straitjacket picked out for him.

All he could do was keep an eye out for you when he went beyond the fences. He searched everywhere, under the guise he was looking for supplies. It was pathetic really. He didn’t even know your fucking name.

His watch beeped from beside him, alerting him to the new hour.

12:00 am.

He decided to turn in for the night, done with tormenting himself. He stood up and stretched, hearing the satisfying pop of several joints as he did. He made his way to the window to take one last cursory glance to ensure everything was as it should be. He noticed something odd immediately. He felt like he did that night…wired but sluggish. It was a combination he could never forget.

Looking out into the night he realized how dark and empty the sky was, save for the new full moon that spotlighted the earth. Negan’s whole body went stiff as he searched for his guards. He couldn’t see anyone. It was dead silent.

A sudden warmth filled his body and a tingle started at the base of his toes. It was pleasant and started to move up each limb. He found himself succumbing to it, eyes rolling back the stronger it got. Suddenly and without warning, a crippling pain overtook his entire body. His bones felt like they were breaking and extending to unbearable lengths. His skin felt stretched and pulled tight, fighting to cover his expanding body. He yelled out in pain as his spine broke through his shirt and his legs jutted out of his pants. Long black fur soon covered every surface of him while his hands turned to oversized paws with jagged talons. His face felt like it was being seared off as it contorted into new features.

He collapsed to the floor on his knees, unable to take the agony. Simultaneously, his mind began to piece together the forgotten fragments. He saw you clearly once again as he relived your moments together. He saw your first conversation and the time at the cabin. He saw him worshipping your body over and over again throughout the night, your sweat-laced bodies slicking against each other. He saw your mind and the plans you had for him.

He saw everything.

“I can fix that for you.”

“I can give you what you need, Negan.”

“I’ll make you better.”

Your voice echoed in his ears, your true meaning now apparent. He felt a swell of testosterone rush through his veins, the appetite for blood suddenly all-consuming. He sniffed the air, smelling nothing but lavender. He growled, his hair standing on end as he felt you get nearer. 

You were here and you’d come to collect.

He hunched on all fours, the pose feeling natural to him in this state. Unbridled lust mixed with frenzied rage, making his mouth salivate. His teeth were larger in size and sharper, his tongue running over them hungrily. The moon shone itself in his room and he instinctually howled. He felt a pull towards the window, outside the walls of the factory. He didn’t stop to think. He only acted. He rushed the window and burst through, scaling the wall as he made his way down to the ground. He landed on his hind legs, standing up straight to scent the air. Beyond the trees he could see a plume of smoke.

The cabin.

You were calling for him…waiting. And as he ran towards you, human nature now erased by animalistic instincts, he heard your final words to him from that night ring in his head.

“I’m going to give you what you’ve always wanted. You’ll be your true form. And I’ll be your true mate. By the light of the moon, you’ll fulfill your true fate.”