#and then aa when i catch up

[kikimcgee]

okay full disclosure, im going through my archives and sorting stuf, re- tagging arts and posts that are my fav,  etc, so uh

may be a bit annoying on here for a bit   😅

[districtscare]

haymitch having to address 4 different deaths for each district on his victory tour. can anybody hear me. haymitch likely having to play the narrative that the deaths of his family were mysterious unsolved murders and to even make it so, partake in the humiliation ritual of public funerals held within the capitol. haymitch having to keep distance from the other victors because he really is a killer and cannot face it. 47 faces and 47 graves dug all because of him. is this thing on. haymitch being forced to mentor tributes he likely knew as classmates or school peers for the first few years of his victory. can you hear me do you understand !!!! haymitch having his games pulled from every possible outlet and blacklisted because of the shocking nature and traitorous way of his win. haymitch likely facing so much scorn amidst all the grief just for surviving. just for making it back home.

[sol-draws-sometimes]

I can't believe a little space improve podcast reignited my love for science

[randomalistic]

Obsessed with this stone ocean clip . it’s like the most satisfying beatdown of the part GGHGRRRRGGAAAARGGHGR AND THE BINARY PRINTING MY GODDD I LOVE THE BUILDUP TO THIS MOMENT SO MUCH ITS SO COOL

[gossamer-green]

ooooogh. edgeworth.

[seraphicsentences]

you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.

closeted/in denial abby anderson x reader

pt.2 here: all mine

tags: internalized homophobia, smut, cheating, tw:owen, fingering (aa!receiving), lowkey sub!aa

A/N: we do not condone cheating here! unless it’s on owen fuck that asshole. sorry i disappeared for 100 years!! hope this is half-decent enough to make up for it. working on reqs i promise!!!! i love you all my sweet angels <333

please click me!!!

it was undeniable— the tension, between you and abby anderson. your queer sexuality was common knowledge amongst the WLF base, and your reputation as a womanizer quite contributory to the hot topic. on the complete opposite of the spectrum stood abby: top soldier, with the highest leading score in kills, and most importantly, dutiful girlfriend to owen moore.

where she stood on the line of homosexuality was made evidently clear. from the way she scoffed under her breath at the sight of your marked-up one night stands, to her weekly mornings at the base’s sunday service, you had found an almost masochistic pleasure in ticking her off to your best efforts.

you would catch yourself throwing offhand comments towards your latest hookups when she was in ears range. “my dick’s better than any man’s, isn’t that right, baby?”

in the mere corner of your peripheral vision you would see abby’s jaw tighten, gaze hard as she refused to look your way— her own sort of defiance to your antics. a haughty smirk threatened to break across your face. you couldn’t exactly place your finger on as to why you were so enamored with her understated reactions, rather than focused on the pretty, blushing girl in front of you. it became a thrill you craved insatiably, and built up as a wall between you two over the years, bound to come tumbling sooner or later.

~

mid-summer now, the longer days and better hunt called for a compulsory celebration. wlf’s central lounge was buzzing with drunken chatter and alight with the golden hue of mini lamp lights.

your childish bickering with abby hadn’t lessened up any bit, and to much of your delight, had begun to stir up more volatile reactions of hers as they’ve persisted.

you sat across her now, separated by only a couple foot’s distance and a beer bottle, which lay empty and flat on its side.

“spin the bottle? what are we, twelve?” abby scoffed at the idea.

she sat crisscrossed, forearms resting atop her legs, muscles straining against her tight grey shirt, and you couldn’t help but wonder how she, the very picture of masc, was so adamantly straight.

“aw, scared, anderson?” you grinned devilishly.

she physically recoiled, as if the very thought of being intimidated by someone like you burned her mind. haughty self satisfaction coursed through your veins, sick pleasure in knowing you could get under her skin so easily. running your eyes salaciously down her figure, you watched as she shifted nervously. cute.

“es solo un juego, abby,” manny says, shrugging.

“whatever,” she replies, “just get on with it.”

as the rounds go by, you can’t help but take note of the way abby awkwardly averts her gaze from whichever two lucky partakers kiss, no matter the duo. scoffing, she teasingly mouths ‘pendejo’ after manny stupidly grins into his third kiss of the night. you watch her smile disappear in a brief second when the your turn arises.

eye contact unwavering, you stare down abby as the bottle whirls around, waiting for it to select its next target. you can’t quite understand why your heart feels like it’s racing out of your chest the closer the bottlehead gets to nodding the blonde’s direction.

it inches closer. slower now.

a person away— and it stops.

…on the pretty girl next to abby.

abby releases a harsh breath you didn’t realize she was holding, chest rising slowly as she catches some air. you blink.

you cross the short distance between the two of you crawling, abby eyeing you down, before swerving your course of action in the last moment to land yourself in front of the girl next to her. without a moment’s hesitation you tug her in for a kiss, or no, multiple kisses as you tongue the girl down hungrily. she groans into it with a matched eagerness, desperate to get a dose of your infamous mouth.

your eyes flicker open between kisses, expecting to get an eyeful of the top of the blonde’s head, but you’re met with quite the opposite. the piercing stare of none other than abby anderson sends a chill down your spine. her breath hitches— she looks like she’s been fucking caught. and as tempting as the girl in front of you is, you can’t tear your gaze away from her.

you begin to dominate what is now a full-blown makeout session, eyes darkened, breaths unsteady, hands pulling. she just watches, bound to the floor. you watch her watch. and you want her to want it.

you pull away with a final tug on the girl’s bottom lip, feeding off the way abby’s eyes follow the action. someone wolf-whistles in the background, but, even flustered now, you can’t shake the undeniable tension between yourself and abby.

the rhythmic thumping of blood rushing through your skull acted rather as a barrier between your awareness and the continuing rounds. thankfully, you were left as a mere onlooker, free of any further unwanted attention.

abby had gone back to staring at her lap, you discovered, watching intently as she picked a stray hair off her jeans.

“hey anderson,” you called over, her reaction immediate— head jolting up.

her eyes relaxed to a glare once she realized you were the one addressing her, raising an eyebrow in question.

“i think it’s ‘bout your turn, yeah?”

“you fu-“

“solo un juego, abby,” manny cuts in.

with a huff, abby begrudgingly leans over to give the bottle a spin, tapping her fingers against the floor in anticipation.

the bottle stops. so does your heart, for just a second.

you look up. abby looks to owen. the fucking son of a bitch lends no help, smirking, excited that his perverted fantasies have come to life before his eyes.

“c’mon then,” you nod at her, leaning back on your wrists, almost in invitation.

she moves slowly, braid dangling by her shoulder as she scooches towards you, hands coming to a stop on the floor in front of you.

closer now, you can feel the heat radiating off her large figure onto your own, the light brush of her breaths intermingling with your own. yet— she makes no move to get any closer.

you loop a finger around her neckline and drag her in, teeth clashing from the aggression, noses bumping; it’s no fairytale kiss. but then your tongue licks into her open mouth, perhaps merely by muscle memory, or maybe because you secretly want a taste of more, and she fucking whimpers. so quiet, strangled, from the back of her throat, but you hear it nonetheless, and god, you feel it.

the switch up is almost immediate: abby pulling away faster than you can blink, back in her original spot before you know it, wiping at her mouth. but she was too late. you knew what she craved, and you were going to make sure she’d have to beg for it.

~

the party was in full swing now, majority of the room drunk off of wlf’s own brew, which meant everyone was completely fucked up.

you stumbled over to the serving area, leaning haphazardly over the bar to scan the room without falling over. your eyes caught onto a familiar blonde, seated quietly with a group composed of what you assumed to be her usual patrol friends. she’s seated next to owen, the fucker, who has his arm lazily swung around the skank sprawled on the other side of him. your eyes are glued to the visible scrunch between abby’s eyebrows, fingers itching to reach out and press it away.

“who’s the lucky girl you’re sinking your claws into tonight?”

your head swivels towards the voice, met with a concerned look from alex, wlf’s residential mixologist.

“…you good, babe?”

“fuck— yeah, just got a lit, a little dizzy for sec. the answer to, uh- to, your question is no one,” you hiccuped, grinning up at alex as you rested your head against the cold counter.

“uh-huh, sure. i’ll let you have your secrets. i won’t pry,” she quips.

you laugh, miming an imaginary lock over your lips before tossing the ‘key’ away. “what can i say? i’m a gentleman, alex, no, gentlewoman. i don’t kiss and te-“

you’re cut off by another voice approaching the counter, low and slurring, asking for a glass of straight whiskey.

you roll your head over, faced with the towering frame of none other than abby anderson. she’s closer than you expected her to be, causing you to stumble back a step, and then laugh at yourself, muttering under your breath, straight whiskey for the straight girl.

“i think you’ve had well enough, anderson. even with all the muscle on you, man, i don’t know how you got this hammered. i’ll get you some water, honey,” alex jokes.

abby sulks, spacing out as she begrudgingly sips on her water. you doubt she even notices your presence, using the accidental peace as time to really take in her side profile. she’s stunning, in her own, amazonian sort of way. especially now in the hazy golden light of the lounge, the sweaty blonde strands framing her face made her appear in rather close resemblance to a goddess of some type. and all you wanted was to worship her in that manner, treat her body as your temple and such. perhaps the alcohol really was getting to you.

“what’s got you all pouty, anderson? your little boyfriend not doing you any good?”

it’s so comical, the effect your presence has on abby. her head jerks your way at the first breath of your words, and her pinning gaze blows away any of the fog clouding either of your minds.

her demeanor hardens instantly, as she crosses her arms defensively. “fuck off,” is all she manages to spit out.

you take it as an invitation to continue. “like,” you scoff, “there’s no way he knows how to hit all the right spots. does he even try to? how’s his head game, abs?”

her look away speaks volumes.

“oh? god, what a dick.”

“he-“ she tries.

“-i could show you a good time,” you ramble, “i can assure you that i know how to hit all the right spots. your spots— i mean, only if you want me to.”

she gawks at you, her look half full of disbelief and half full of curiosity. and you can tell that you’ve got her hooked.

“i don’t need you,” she mutters, but a glance at her thighs pressed tight together says otherwise.

you smirk, placing your hand down that just so happens to land on her mid-thigh. her muscle jolts at your contact.

tentatively dragging your fingers higher, you speak lowly, stare locked, “you sure, baby?”

the wall comes crashing.

abby’s snatching your hand off her leg in a heartbeat and dragging you into the closest bathroom, shoving you against the door and pushing her lips against yours.

your tongue is dipping into her open mouth almost immediately, desperate to pull another one of her addicting whimpers out.

“shit,” abby curses in between gasps, before leaning back in to just consume more of you. her hands are searching for any part of you she can reach, grabbing at the meat at your hips, thighs, pressing your waist against hers with a groan.

the feel of your body against her own is so different from owens’, but so satisfying in a way she can’t wrap her head around. you fit into her frame like a puzzle piece, and your touches are needy and selfish, but they don’t feel offensive in the way that owen’s do.

you venture a hand under her shirt, tracing along the ridges of her toned stomach, and abby shudders, breaking your kiss to look down at your moving hand. she’s panting against your neck, heavier now, as you slide your hand up under her bra to cup her chest softly, rolling her hardened nipple between your fingers and watching hypnotically as she gasps into your skin.

with her head down at this angle, her neck is perfectly bared, and you can’t deny yourself a taste, can you? you’re sinking your teeth in before you realize it, soothing the marks with a wet lick over, only to tug the skin in between your teeth to suck at.

the quiet noises abby’s trying to muffle against your shoulder now are sending you into a frenzy, your hands now abandoning her breasts to pull her hips closer against yours.

abby nearly cries at the loss of your direct touches, but stops when your fingers return a place far more rewarding. you’ve unbuttoned her jeans now, your hand cupping her over her boxers teasingly, digits pressing over the damp spot in the fabric.

“bet you’ve never been this wet for owen,” you laugh, running a finger over her soaked core.

“don’t bring him up right now,” she pants in return, hips keening to your touch as she grabs your face to press into a sloppy kiss.

you push her boxers down eagerly, teasing two fingers by her leaking entrance to gather her slick.

god, abby gasps, and it seems to be the winning word of the night when she repeats it as she watches you stuff those same two fingers into your own mouth, and again when you stuff them straight into her pussy.

her pretty eyes are rolling back into her skull farther with every thrust against her gummy walls. “look at me while i fuck you dumb on my fingers, abs, look at me,” you beg.

“i c-can’t,” she whines, blushing a deep red and burrowing her face into your shoulder.

you slow your pumps, using your free hand to grab her by the braid and force her look at you. “awh,” you coo, pouting mockingly at her gaped mouth, “cute.”

your fingers buried as deep into her as physically possible, you curl them to hit that sensitive spot you genuinely believe has never even been touched once. and with the way abby lets out her loudest moan yet, you cannot believe otherwise.

“there it is,” you murmur, massaging your fingertips agonizingly slow inside of her, “see what you’re missing out on?”

her only response is a strangled whimper. baby blue eyes big and pleading as they threaten to roll back with every slight movement.

mhm, you goad her on, “that’s your g-spot, baby, feels real good, huh?”

she nods her head vigorously, quiet mhmmhmhm’s trailing out from her bitten lips.

“now if your little boyfriend’s dick is too small to reach it, i guess he can’t help it,” you laugh. “shame, you make such pretty noises when i touch you here,” you let out an exaggerated sigh, picking up your pace abruptly to slam into her spot over and over.

abby’s nearly gone cross-eyed, tossing her head back now as her pussy throbs almost rhythmically with every thrust. she’s never felt so filled to the brim, so overwhelmed with pleasure, and she’s too blissed out to even care about the stupid fucking smirk you’ve got plastered on your face.

“but his mini- dick is no excuse for not touching you here,” you continue, letting loose of her hair to finally touch her poor, neglected, pink clit, rubbing circles harshly into the button.

abby’s heart nearly jumps out of her chest. she’s moaning nonstop and swearing like a fucking sailor, the combination of your actions almost too much for her to physically bear. after a particularly loud oh god, fuck-please, you have no choice but to stuff abby’s mouth full with the bottom of her shirt. and fuck, was that the right move; the way her ab muscles flex and tighten as she nears her release, glistening with sweat, is enough to make you let out a groan of your own.

“‘m- close,” abby cries around the fabric, hips rocking with your motions as she begins to ride out her high.

“there you go anderson, you got it,” you mutter, circling her swollen clit faster now as you fuck into her g-spot repeatedly.

mmmmph is all you can make out, as abby’s walls clamp down around your curled fingers and she digs her nails into your sides, eyes squeezing shut.

her jerking movements eventually slow along with your own, half lidded eyes staring as you slip your cum-coated fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. the moistened fabric falls from abby’s open jaw as she attempts to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

before you know it, she’s tugging up her soaked boxers and jeans, shoving past you as she buttons them up and promptly bolts out of that bathroom.

well, that was one way to deal with the tension.

she’ll come running back to you before she knows it.

yikes! i just read that over and yikes! lol uh! sorry guys i’m out of practice!! we love abby anderson though and pray that she gets over her internalized homophobia. she’s too sexy for allat.

send me more reqs!! not that i need any more but send ‘em!

[tojirights]

aa i don't usually do asks but could u do 68 with alastor? tysm for considering!! feel free to ignore or delete

prompt: "kneel."

a/n: finding out alastor is 7ft tall isn't helping me lose my mind any less. ty anon 🩷 requests open!

alastor loved to push people's buttons, loved to get a reaction out of everyone. he was efficient in finding out just what made someone tick within a few interactions. what he noticed about you was that you hated being told what to do. now, what alastor found equally funny is that you actually loved being told what to do. especially when you were told to do anything for him.

oh, he was going to have fun with this new information.

he sent for you to meet him in the broadcast tower quite a bit earlier than usual, but you assumed maybe he needed some help setting up and, of course, showed up even earlier than expected. alastor spins around in his chair when you enter, a smirk already tugging at his smile. "ahh, there's my good girl." he coos, his voice making your blood heat in a way you convince yourself is anger.

"ugh, fuck off. you refuse to text so i always assume you send early for me because of something important." you grumble, watching his eye twitch at the mention of your cellular device. the room seems to get colder as alastor stands, taking slow steps towards you. the look in his eyes is almost sinister, and his smile unnerves you.

he places a finger under your chin and forces your gaze up to meet his. "watch that mouth of yours, my dear." there's a low, threatening tone in his words and it makes you want to bite back but as soon as you open your mouth to tell him off, he's reaching around for a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back.

his mouth finds your ear, warm breath ghosting over your skin. you can't control the way your body shakes, a shuddering pant leaving your lips. you're not sure if its arousal or fear, to be honest. but then, alastor breaks out into a grin.

"kneel."

your eyes widen, and your breath catches in your throat. heat pools low in your stomach, as well as adrenaline. he's got you, and he knows it. your knees shake with desire to drop, to do anything this man tells you, and when you slowly start to lower yourself, alastor laughs. "now see?" he smirks, his fingers running through your hair as you descend. "i know you're my good girl. it can be our little secret." he hums, petting your head as you kneel at his feet.

"you can continue to be a brazen little brat to everyone else, but you and i both know this is who you really want to be." you look up, seeing alastor towering over you and you bite your lip to silence yourself. the primal urge to obey courses through you, making your hands shake with desire. "now, are you going to continue to mouth off or put that mouth to good use?" he snickers when your eyes darken. "you'll be rewarded for your good behavior, don't you worry."

[kirqro]

୨୧ ‘ loser els !

warnings || none !

{ just random head canons of my lil loser :( }

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* loser!ellie ‘ who’s room is decked out in posters and random drawings she did ( SOME OF UU !! )

【☆】

* loser!ellie ‘ who said score and pumped her fist in the air after kissing you for the first time

【★】

* loser!ellie ‘ who brings you up no matter the topic of the conversation

“ Oh ya my girlfriend said the same thing..!” “My girl hates .. “

“ Yk my girlfriend and I …”

JS NO MATTER THE CONVO !

【☆】

* loser!ellie ‘ who has you scattered around all over her car and room !

Polaroids of the two of you guys kissing In her dashboard

Your rubber bands over her gear shift

Your clothes in her laundry basket

Your hair brush on her desk

AH CUTENESS .

【★】

*loser!ellie ‘ who’s palms are always sweaty and think she’s hot shit when she rests her hand on your thigh..

girl if u don’t get ur clammy aa hands OFF ..

【☆】

*loser!ellie ‘ who randomly squeezes your cheeks together

【★】

*loser!ellie ‘ who puts her arm out for you to take when you guys walk together and gets genuinely upset when you don’t hold onto her arm ..

【☆】

*loser!ellie ‘ who watches instagram reels and laughs her ass off

she sends you them when you’re right next to her and waits for your reaction

【★】

*loser!ellie ‘ who accidentally calls you bro , brother , and dude WAY TO MUCH. But gets mad when you do it to her :(

“Bro guess what Dina just told me”

“What did she tell you BRO.”

“BRO? WHA. oh!.. I’m sorry my perfect Angel baby cakes please”

【☆】

*loser!ellie ‘ who has the weirdest nicknames for you.. girl has once called you acorn and didn’t know why you side eyed her for it after it left her lips

【★】

*loser!ellie ‘ who thinks you are the prettiest person ever on the planet earth .

Sometimes you can catch her staring at you with pure love in her eyes .

【☆】

*loser!ellie ‘ who is so baby girl and wouldn’t hurt a fly!! ( she is a mass murderer .. )

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Hii bbys !! This is my first official post :))

I had sm fun writing theses about our silly lil els ! Soo maybe part 2??

Constructive criticism is appreciated but PLSS be nice ..!

TYSMM FOR READIN ILY!

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daily click for Palestine !!

- from the river to the sea Palestine WILL be free 🍉

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal

A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.

Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex

Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.

♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”

The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor. 

A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.

A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.

It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.

Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul. 

She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.

As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.

It is him.

And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.

“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.

Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins. 

“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.

“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck. 

A cold shudder shoots down her spine.

There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.

Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.

Love.

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”

His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.

That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.

The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end. 

Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.

Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other. 

Pop, pop, pop.

Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.

Finally comes Cazador's turn.

He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.

Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.

The Ascension… is complete.

The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak. 

He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.

Her lover is no more.

She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.

And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.

Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”

Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”

“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.

Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.

Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”

The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried. 

Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.

“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.

She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.

But that was long ago.

Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.

“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”

Tav’s pupils blow wide.

Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.

She will not rise to it.

“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”

With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”

Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.

“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”

Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.

“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.

Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.

“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…

His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.

In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.

Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.

“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.

Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”

His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.

Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.

“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.

“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”

“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”

Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.

Her mortality is a threat to his oath. 

Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”

Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.

Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.

Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.

“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.

Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”

Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.

This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well. 

“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”

His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.

“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”

“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.

With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.” 

His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.

Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.

A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.

With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.

“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.

It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.

Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.

Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.

“You can move,” she tells him meekly.

He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix. 

Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.

Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.

Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.

Just… having sex.

“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”

He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”

“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”

Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”

“I-”

Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.

“Astarion, I-” 

Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”

Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”

Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”

Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”

A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.

Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.

Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.

Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”

The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.

She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.

Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.

Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.

Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with. 

Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago. 

Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.

She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.

Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”

He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.

Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.

Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.

Tavaria.

The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.

Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.

“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”

Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”

Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.

Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.

Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.

They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.

The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.

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

Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.

Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed. 

Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows. 

Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.

No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan adjusting to this new timeline, becoming sober, and Wade somehow finding Logan's dog tags. ~4k words.

(Tw: Logan's a depressed recovering alcoholic with survivor guilt, unofficial proposal, canon usual implied sex jokes, Logan tries to flirt but fails)

To my wife. Who's halo lit up my dark life to see just how many doors were available to me when I couldn't see them myself<3

He offers him his to wear as a cutesie matching necklace type of thing but Logan is hesitant to take them, scared of what will come of it. He does it anyway though because he sees how happy Wade is wearing his.

What he refuses to tell him though is that just hearing the tags jingle makes him jump, flinch, his heart rate rises, and his mind floods with scenes he's worked so hard draining every bar he could find dry just so he could forget.

For me, I, too, am a man with deeply rooted animal instincts and was raised to behave like an obedient pet instead of the animal they made me.

An animal trained to take orders. A soldier without his post is miserable and constantly is either trying to find it again or defend himself from ever having to go back to a post to begin with.

You aren't good enough for them if you obey what they say and excel past the standards. But you aren't good enough if you question their authority and make choices for yourself either. Hoizer comes to mind.

Running with the bulls

Working my miracles

Holding my world together with a boot string

His night terrors are worse, more frequent, constantly a battle between wanting to protect and defend the less fortunate to saying, 'No, I'm done with that. It's none of my business, It’s someone else's problem now.'

He wakes up screaming, claws drawn, every possible sense he has to run activated, panting, gasping almost for air. He's panting, heaving deep but quick breaths, all of the hairs on his arms raised like a cat who just heard a dog barking after having gotten attacked as a kitten.

Living the dream

Benzos and gasoline

Coffee and blue light screens till the morning

He wakes to the sunlight in his face, gets up, stretches, takes his Valium. Eats some toast, calls it breakfast, gets dressed for his weekly AA meeting. The moment he steps inside it smells like Gasoline. Sweet honey scented lies that he hates to admit that he knew all too well. ‘It was only one’ ‘I asked for a virgin one but they brought me the wrong one’ ‘I'm trying, I really am..it's just.. hard’ He's heard them all before but the last one he could relate to the most.

Coming home at night, Logan puts his face into the back of his partner's neck, hugging him from behind as he offers to watch a cowboy movie marathon with him. He barely eats, only taking what Wade gives him or shoves in his mouth like the now spilled popcorn that was all over the ground, His boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while the “Dvd” bounces back and forth on the blue screen.

Wade never likes it but recently he's been drinking coffee at night, pacing back and forth as he searched online for a job. Kept himself far from the nightmares that were trying to catch up with him.

If I tell you this is drowning

You tell me I'm walking on water

I could bring fire from the mountain

You tell me it feels a little colder

Everyone was telling him how good he was doing, how well he was adjusting, how happy they were that he was here and yet.. He didn't feel like he deserved it. Any of it. Not the second chance, not the love and support of all his new family, not the affection from the man who whispered how proud of him he was each night..

It doesn't help his mental status when multiple jobs reject him either. Interviews don't exactly go that well when you have claws for hands and a reputation for having a temper.

“I'm sorry we're looking for someone with more… experience.. in this field. You need an entry level job.”

“Woah dude! You are WAY too qualified to be working here! you should try looking for something higher up, yeah?”

“I'm sorry. You're too much of a liability.”

“Oh my god- You're the Wolverine!”

“Yes.. but uhm.. No.. I'm just Logan now.”

“Wait, why are you applying here? This is a cashier position.”

“I'm aware..”

“Aren't you like… an X-men?”

“N-no… not anymore.”

“Oh… Did they fire you?”

“I quit.”

“Why?”

“Are.. these questions part of the interview?”

What kind of man was he if he couldn't even get a damn job at McDonald's? It felt useless. Like everybody wanted something different from him, but no one was happy either way. Never pleased with his resume or his reputation. You would think being an ex X-man would make it easy. Of course someone would want to hire a superhero? Right? Wrong.

I don't wanna

Choose between being a salesman or a soldier

Just let me look a little older

It seemed everyone wanted him to rejoin the X-men and as much as he missed that mansion upstate, it wasn't his. So many times he's been told stories about himself that he didn't even remember …well.. because it wasn't him. They wanted The Wolverine.

Their Wolverine.

Not Logan.

There was always that spot at the dealership with Peter. Now that Wade was back on his role with mercenary stuff and doing more “Favors” with Colossus, Negasonic and Yukio, that position was open. Part of him- No. Scratch that. All of him was happy for Wade. He seemed to be enjoying life so much more now that he felt he had purpose. But what was his purpose? Selling cars?? Definitely not. Even if it was, they were looking for something else anyway.

“It says here that you are 286 years old. Is that a typo?”

“Oh- uhm… No..”

“I see…Well we are currently looking for someone… younger.. to fill that spot. Sorry.”

But they were never actually sorry. He could smell it.

Coming home from the failed hunt, he felt like an older lion losing its pride to a younger male lion. Well- if lions could develop arthritis in their knees and hands. Once a day he'd pop out his claws, just to keep them ready though he felt like he hadn't used them in such a long time… Maybe he really was turning into an old house cat like wade said.

Sitting in their shared bedroom, he was grumbling to himself, grunting as he tried to get his claw unstuck. This wasn't the first time they locked up and he feared it wasn't the last either.

He snapped his head up at the sound of tags. Around the corner came who he expected, Wade, quickly hiding his hand under the blanket. Coming in, his eyes widened.

“Woah wolvie! Without me? Really? I would have gladly done it for you.”

At first Logan wanted to thank him for offering to help before quickly realizing that from how his hand was under the blanket, it did look suspiciously like adult alone time.

“T-that's not… no.”

“M'kaay. If you say sooo~”

“H-how uhm.. How was work?”

Watching as he began to grab shower clothes and take off his mask, He smiled.

“Oh you know! Watching the life drain from peoples eyes and what not as they beg for their life! The usual.”

“Oh.. that's.. fun?”

“Extremely liberating stuff.”

Watching as he began to strip, He swallowed, wishing he'd leave already so he could finish shoving the claw back into his skin.

Let me step a little bolder

I don't wanna

Choose between being a butcher or a pauper

“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asked, Beginning to walk around butt naked in nothing but his tags.

“U-uhm… No. No thanks, I had one this morning.”

“D'awwww what? Worried i'll see your peanuts? News flash baby, I've had those things down my throat! And I will say. They're better salty anyways~”

All this teasing changed his monotone face into a small goofy smile as he came close, crawling up into his lap, taking hold of his cheeks as he kissed his nose.

“What's wrong? Did you not get the job?”

He was so envious of how he could say such dirty things. Wade was so confident and yet so shy about his face. It made him think of when he was that confident in himself too. (Probably overly confident if we're being honest) Oh that was so many years ago… he'd never get that back. And honestly? He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Logan said nothing but it was all the answer wade needed.

“I see. Well you'll get’em next time, Right?”

He looked away. Ashamed. Here Wade was, being overly supportive, giving him everything, and still he couldn't find a single happy bone in his body.

Shifting his leg to reassure him more, His knee was placed on the claw, yipping. “Ouch!”

“Sorry! I… I can't.. i-it won't..”

And on top of all that, he just hurt him. Man he sucked at this. All of it. Every little bit of it.

Pulling his hand away, Logan's eyes looked over Wade just as quick as it happened, Trying to see if he was bleeding only to jolt.

“Hey- shh.. Calm down. You're alright.” Grabbing his wrist, he carefully moved the tags that had gotten stuck on the claw.

“What's got you all riled up, Kitty? The interview couldn't have been that bad.”

But what he didn't know is that it WAS that bad.

Instantly Logan broke down, breaking heavily as he began to sob, gritting his teeth as he put his non-stuck hand on his face, wanting to hide. He felt pathetic. Useless. Weak. All of the things he fought not to be.

“Ooh, Honey come her-” Wade reached a hand out, trying to console him only to be shoved away.

“Don't!! I-.. I'm tired of hurting people! That's not who I want to be!”

“Baby cakes, it was an accident-”

“No!! Eveyone wants the Wolverine until the fucking wolverine is actually acting like the Wolverine!” He shouted, trying not to choke on his own tears.

Tilting his head, Wade blinked as if he wasn't aware of what he was talking about, but why would he? Logan hasn't told him anything negative for the past 2 weeks. Keeping it all bottled up, trying to push it deep down but that wasn't him. He couldn't handle it anymore.

“Everyone just keeps saying I should join the X-men again and i-” Wilson put his hands on his shoulders, looking at him with the most serious he has ever been in his entire life.

“Logan, If that's what you want we'll make it work. It's only an hour drive, and i'm sure I could visi-”

“Wade!! Shut. Up! I don't…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he began to apologize, whispering he was sorry for yelling at him.

“I-it's not your fault.. I.. I don't..”

Wade was patient, Nodding, encouraging him to open up with his words. He knew when it was time to zip it and let him talk. Now was one of those times. It was his turn to listen.

“I don't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to fight to begin with but… It's the only thing I'm good at. I'm not good at anything else.. My whole life I've just been jumping team after team and they all eventually die or I just get kicked out for not understanding the power of team work or whatever. Hell, I've been through three different wars and every single time I ran away! Like a damn dog with its tail between its legs! All except the times I was TOLD to run and I didn't. Fuck, Wade! 3 fucking wars and I can't even take orders right!!”

Honey, I'm taking no orders

Gonna be nobody’s soldier

It was now Wade's turn to try to stifle a laugh, snorting as he covered his mouth.

“What's so fucking funny?! That your boyfriend is a sad pathetic loser who can't even get his hands to listen to him!?”

Now he burst out laughing, starting to giggle.

“You're over here talking about not being able to take orders and not being good enough for a team while talking to the same guy who can't even GET on a team and was kicked out of Canadian special forces because I didn't listen to a single thing they said! And you think I care if you ‘can't take orders’ ??” He said this last part in a mocking tone, trying hard to be serious but couldn't.

Logan's eyebrows scrunched with a skeptical glare, tears still dripping down his face, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

Cupping his face again, Wade smiled ear to ear, their foreheads together. “You're much dumber than the comics make you out to be if you think I'd care about anything like that. You honestly think I'd care if you don't want to be anyone's soldier? Why do you think I'm my own boss? The world isn't built for guys like us, baby. And if you wanna open a coffee shop or- pursue your dreams of photography, or hell! Even bird watching for all I care, I will still love you. We will make it work. No matter what you choose to do. Even if you don't get a job at all. Do you understand?”

The man started into his eyes, seemingly frozen as he processed all that he said.

“Logan..”

“Hm?”

“You gotta nod hon, we've talked about this.”

Slowly nodding, indicating that he understood, the tears got thicker as he pulled himself into Wade's shoulder, sobbing more.

“Oooh There there… There's my big strong man..” Wrapping his arms around him, he was careful of the single knife still out. Sitting him up, he rubbed the side of his face as he kissed the other cheek, only to gasp.

“GAASSSPP!! Peanut!”

“What!?” His grip tightened around his waist as he looked around urgently, immediately sniffling and starting to wipe his eyes.

“You're getting greys!” He coed, reaching up to pluck a single gray hair from the beast, who flinched. “Ouch..”

Leaning back, Wade held the hair in front of his face, His smile still wider than ever.

“You're turning into A silver fox, wolvie!”

“W-what?”

“Ooh I bet you're gonna be so handsome! Eehh!” Hugging him again, tight around his neck.

Blushing, He wasn't sure what had just happened. How him venting and crying out of the rage he felt to Wade fangirling over one of his single hairs.. though.. I guess it made sense for your bald boyfriend to monitor yours. Wade has even made him start using a fancy shampoo that made his hair a lot softer, curlier, and Less greasy.

“.. you..You're excited that i'm getting old..??”

“Duh! I've always wanted to be a hot silver daddy's sugar baby!”

“What does that even mean?”

“Don't worry about it- Oh hey look! Your claw went back in.”

Looking at his hand, he made a fist and opened it a couple of times, blinking, oblivious. “...How did you do that?”

But what he didn't realize is that the stress was flowing out of him, and the relief that Wade seemed to be obsessed with him no matter what had calmed him down enough for it to slide back in itself.

“I didn't do anything, sweetheart. You opened up. Let it out. All that stress isn't good for you, you know. How do you think I ended up looking like this?” He joked, giggling.

For some reason, He laughed too, finding this a bit funny.

“Do you feel better? Hm?”

“Nngh..”

“I'll take that as a yes.” The naked man whispers, kissing him with his arms lazily on his shoulders, glad that he was able to cry in front of him. Twas a very manly thing to do and there was no one more manly than the Wolverine himself.

“Alright. I'm gonna go shower. I stink worse than you do after being out in the rain.” You know, wet dog and all. Pulling away, there was a clang and a tug at both of their necks, the tags becoming stuck together, making wade smirk more. “I think these tags don't want me to go.”

Quickly frowning, Logan swallowed, moving to take his off, pulling up his hand as he held it, putting the tag inside of it, closing his fingers.

“Wha..I-... what are you doing?”

“Wade.. I..” He sighs, looking away with a nervous pout, Grunting a bit from frustration. Why did words have to be so difficult?

“Are you breaking up with me?!”

“What!? No! I-.. I don't..”

See what Logan didn't know was that Wade had viewed these as promise rings, the equivalent of engagement even but he was okay with never actually getting married. As long as he got to wear the dress in his closet and dance with him he wouldn't mind if it was legal or not. He understood fully that not everyone wanted to marry the stage 4 cancer patient whose skin looked like turkey bacon that was somehow raw and burnt at the same time.

“You don't what? Do you.. want something else? We can get rings! Do you want rings?” shifting to sit closer to him, Wade was obviously becoming upset about this, untangling the tags and looking at him with those big brown puppy eyes.

“Rings…?”

He could see the gears in his head trying their best to turn as he thought what he meant.

“How would we make them into rings?” He finally asks and to Wade, this was basically a proposal.

Sitting up more he began clapping excitedly the same way he did when seeing puppins again about 8 months ago. “Eeh!! Yes!!”

His head turns, Giggling. “I would've taken it in front of the subway like Sanda Bullock but this works too!”

Logan, like a dumb ass, looked too, knowing full well he wouldn't see anyone but still always looked anyway. “Who??”

“Oh I'll show you later! What size are you?”

“In rings?”

“No, your cock, Of course in rings!”

“Hey now- I never agreed to a cock ring, Wade. No.”

The serious tone and the way he pointed his finger at him made him laugh more, taking his hand as he kissed it. “We'll figure it out. Okay so after my shower, I'll call a guy I know. I think Forge would do a much better job but I feel like he'd say no.” He began rambling about how cute they would be and how excited he was, climbing off of his lap (finally) and started to walk off.

“W-wade!” He called, swallowing again, nervous to ask him to listen.

“What? You wanna come shower?”

“No- well.. maybe but..”

Again he waited, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying his best to be patient but it was hard not talking for 0.5 seconds.

“It's not that.. I don't like them. It's just.. I got those a long long time ago.. and I don't want to be the man those belonged to. Not anymore. And it's not that I don't think about rejoining all the time, it's just.. I want to live my life the way I want too. Charles always said that at the end, we'd get to live how we deserve. That's my time. My time is now. I want to sit on a porch somewhere out west and watch the horses graze. I wanna sit around doing nothing with Puppins in my arms. I want… I want to be with.. with you.”

He admitted, and for once Wade was the one speechless.

“I don't want you to visit. I want to live with you. But not here. I want to go somewhere quieter. Somewhere I can just be.. Logan..”

Putting a hand on his chest as he explained, he didn't see his smile move, not a smidge, watching as he bit his lip and covered his mouth trying to stay quiet until he was done.

“Of course I still want to help people though! Protect them from other worse people… I'm just tired of being someone's toy soldier all the time. I want to do what I think is right but.. also have time to listen to you sing when cooking and take Puppins to the dog park. I want to protect..Us.” Yeah. That felt right. Us. Both of them, all of them. Together. His family.

“B-besides.. If I became an X-men again I don't think I could do it. I could barely sleep back then thinking about all the screams.. the people I couldn't help. I don't think I would be able to get over the fact that I can't save everyone… But I definitely want to try to at least save a few people. Take care of them… all of them. Even if they don't think they need help.” He smiled a bit, taking a huge breath as the stress was relieved from his shoulders.

“Alright you can talk now because I'm never doing that ever again, that was super embarrassing.” He muttered, flushed as he looked down at his lap.

The second he gave him permission to speak, Wade screamed, a scream that made Logan's eyes widen and look at him with a slow blink. “....what was tha-”

Immediately he was pulled up from the bed, picked up and squeezed tightly as he jumped around. Grunting some, he held on tight, feeling a little nauseous. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was.

Still screaming, Wade was extremely excited about all that was just said, Logan admitting that he wanted a serious future with him was a lot better news than he could have ever wished for.

“Put me down!... Wade!... I'm gonna throw up!” He said, whining that he was given uppies non consensually. Even he couldn't help but laugh though in response to his giggles. God that laugh was so annoying and yet his world would feel pointless without it.

Putting him down, Wilson grabs his cheeks, petting his beard. “Ooh Logan.. I don't need protection.. because I can't get pregnant. But if I ever find out that I can, I'll definitely hire you.” He jokes, causing more blushes as his hand comes up to Wades, nuzzling into it for a moment.

“You know what I mean…”

“I do. And while I won't stop you, how about you be your own soldier for a bit? Tell yourself how to live. Not anyone else. And i'll be behind you, wearing a shirt with your ugly mug on it, supporting you the whole way. Got it?”

“Aye! I'm not ugly!”

“No you are not! I've barely been home for 20 minutes and am already so wet. I haven't even taken a shower yet “ he mumbles casually as he begins walking away.

“Heh.. Hey…erm Wade?”

“Yes, love?” Just about to leave the room, he turns, smiling gently at how talkative his fiancé was.

Logan blushes more. “I uhm.. If I'm nobody's soldier… can your name be nobody?”

Wade looks confused at first, now it's his turn to figure out what he was saying.

“Cause.. if your name is nobody then i'd be.. nevermind.” Waving A hand, he glanced at his shoes, stuffing his hands in his pocket having just fumbled that line completely.

Within seconds, Wade was back in that room, giving him the sloppiest, deepest kiss that was available, kissing him all over.

“Oh Logie! You're so sweet! But leave the flirting to me, mkay? I don't need you throwing your back out trying too hard.” He pats his chest, grabbing his hand as Wade drug him by the wrist.

They both laugh as they enter the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

[aaroleswapau]

Do you have any swap!franziska art? Wanna see more of her design

i unfortunately don't have any polished art of her bc i think when i drew this, my swap au hyperfixation was starting to wane, whoops! these are just some very quick sketches of what i wanted her new thing in the swap au to be.

(i will be putting old art of her old design if you want to see it under read more pftt [unfortunately not a lot of them bc i wasn't vibing with the old role i gave her so i wasn't drawing her a lot 😔])

oki doks, now time for a lore dump!!!!! (copy-pasting what i wrote on the bird app a long time ago):

ok, so the thing is, i gave a bit of redd white's role to mvk. my reasoning for that is since he's the one who killed gregory (who has mia's role), he'd have to take on that role too. when characters don't have any like, "exact" foils for their roles to be swapped with, i either make them stay the same or hobble some roles together. mvk's case was the latter.

so mvk runs a private eye that's connected to the prosecutor's office (he's corrupt bc have you seen that guy) and franziska happens to be working there.

mvk also happens to be one the people responsible for covering up the details about mia's death.

i wanted to change franziska's job from my first version of her bc she doesn't really have a connection to the supernatural, so i just gave her a job that works closely in the covering crimes too.

but yeah, fran has to meet gregory, and then she gets framed by redd white

and she's furious about it, of course! that fool works under her father, how dare he put the blame on her!

with how fran is supposedly cooperating with gregory, i think mvk would've really wanted her to catch the fall even with how much he cares about his daughter. he's an 'end justifies the means' kind of guy.

i don't think fran realizes until swap!jfa that it was her father who purposely tried to frame her and the one who ordered to kill gregory.

i think she'd feel really torn by that and the guilt with how miles defended her before knowing all that would've ate her up (the fact that gregory is dead, no spirit channeling or anything makes this more fucked up for them i think agfhhjh)

however, i still haven't figured out why franziska would agree to talk to gregory if he's investigating mia's death, and i'm not quite sure why gregory would've been investigating mia's death in the first place bc unlike mia in the regular verse, he'd have no connections to her case at least

(that would probably require some aai duology knowledge that i do not have right now ASKSKS)

my brain isn't fully working right now so i can't fully ramble on about her design, but i did think it was important to make her dress eccentric; and i know that everyone dresses eccentric in aa, but particularly that one point in turnabout sisters where april may should've remembered maya bc she dressed weird? i wanted the same for franziska ASKSKS roast her old-timey gothic looking ass!!!!!

and from my recent drawing of her, i think if i were to draw like, a polished ref for her, i would like to show the fact that her make-up is severe. again, 'eccentric' or whatever pftt

i originally had her be like a witch, some sort of seer who could communicate with the dead through her crystal ball. scrapped that and changed it bc it was just not digging my dudes asdghd a shame tho bc i'm rather fond of her big-ass veil witch hat thingy

[sluttywonwoo]

pairing: joshua hong x fem!reader (ft. ex bf!kim sunwoo)

summary: you should’ve told your boyfriend the truth about that stranger at the grocery store. inspired by an audio by @/aas on quinn (iykyk)

word count: 1.7k

warnings: swearing, heavy jealousy (maybe a lil toxic lol), possessiveness, smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), spit kink, orgasm control, unprotected sex

a/n: this is my formal apology to kim sunwoo, nothing personal buddy

masterlist

“what was your favorite position when you were together?”

“w-what?”

“you heard me,” joshua says, folding his arms across his broad chest. “what was your favorite position with him? the one you guys did the most?”

“shua-”

“just answer the goddamn question.”

it feels like a trap.

and in a way, it is. what answer could your boyfriend possibly be looking for?

all because you ran into your ex-boyfriend at the grocery store. things hadn’t ended on a particularly good note with sunwoo, but it had been years since then so you figured there was no harm in making small talk with him while you both waited in line to order subs. you had been wrong.

-

joshua had finished his half of the shopping and joined you in line, immediately catching on to the way the dude was hanging on to every word you said.

must be one of the guys from her cohort, he thought to himself. cute.

he wrapped an arm around your waist and took your basket to hold while you waited together, making note of the stranger’s reactions to his possessive little display. he didn’t want to overdo it since you weren’t a big fan of pda and the guy seemed relatively harmless but he also didn’t want to let him think he had a chance.

you made no move to introduce the two to each other so joshua just played along, joining in on the conversation with you and whoever you were talking to like he’d known the guy for years.

he assumed you’d tell him who he was in the car. you don’t. he has to be the one to ask.

“so who was that?” he tries to sound casual about it but he’s sure the coldness in his voice gives him away.

“hm?”

“in publix? the guy we were just talking to?”

“oh. that was sunwoo.”

sunwoo. the name sounds familiar. then it clicks.

“kim sunwoo? your sunwoo?”

you sink down in your seat at the way he says ‘your sunwoo’ but joshua doesn’t let up.

“we were just talking to your ex-boyfriend in there? and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“how was i supposed to tell you?” you counter defensively. “it’s not like i can just say that right in front of him!”

“sure you can! at the very least you could have introduced us to each other. i would’ve caught on to his name.”

“that’s exactly why i didn’t,” you mumble.

“what? what do you mean?”

“i didn’t tell you who he was because i knew you’d get all… jealous like this.”

“i’m not jealous!” joshua scoffs, painfully self-aware of just how jealous he sounds. “i just… can’t believe you let me be all buddy-buddy with the guy. i laughed at his jokes! i smiled politely at him!”

“as opposed to what, scowling menacingly?” you mutter.

“something like that.”

sunwoo is the only other serious partner you’ve ever had. the only one you had lived with other than joshua. the one who came right before joshua.

joshua knows he’s acting unreasonably. you’re with him now. you’re happy with him, you love him, and that’s all that should matter. he knows you’re not about to go running off to your ex. so why does he feel so goddamn jealous pissed off?

-

joshua drags you to the bedroom soon as the groceries are unpacked and in their respective spots in either the fridge or the pantry. your sandwiches are left forgotten on the kitchen counter as he yanks your clothes off and kneels on the floor in front of you.

he makes you cum on his tongue before he says another word to you, trying to drown himself in you as you ride his face. when your legs start to tremble, he lays you down on the edge of the bed and finishes you off like that, not wanting a repeat incident of what had happened in the shower a couple months ago.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize breathlessly afterward, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. “i should have told you who he was in the store.”

joshua brushes it off. “it’s okay, baby.”

you shake your head. “it’s not. i should have thought about how it would make you feel.”

joshua sighs, spreading your legs again so that he can slot himself in between them and lay on top of you. he doesn’t feel like having this conversation right now, feels like he can’t think rationally when he’s like… this. hard and jealous and angry with you. he needs to clear his head. and to do that—

he asks the question. the one that has you staring up at him with those big wide eyes of yours.

“are you going to make me ask you again?”

you shake your head vigorously. “um, no. it was- we… missionary.”

joshua raises an eyebrow, subtly amused by your answer. “really?”

“mhm, but like with my ankles crossed behind his back? i don’t think it technically counts as a mating press but-”

“i’ve heard enough.”

“sorry.”

to be fair, he had asked. he just hasn’t expected you to go into detail about it. he walked right into that one.

the mental image of another man, of sunwoo between your legs, kissing your neck, getting you to moan his name, is enough to send joshua into a mini spiral but he doesn’t let himself dwell on it.

“scoot up a little,” he tells you as he grabs a pillow from the top of the bed. “lift your hips.”

he slides the pillow underneath you with one hand and unbuckles his belt with the other, ignoring the way you whimper and reach for his pants. he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of undressing him, instead doing it himself while you sit there and watch with a pout.

he doesn’t drag it out even though he’s tempted to. he wants to tease you, make you whine and beg for his cock. but he needs to feel you, needs to be inside of you right this fucking instant.

he’s on top of you as soon as he gets his boxers off, running his hands along your thighs as he lines himself up.

“ready, baby?”

you nod.

“words, my love. you know i need words.”

“yes, yes i’m ready,” you assure him with an impatient wiggle of your hips.

“good girl. think you can wrap your legs around my waist for me?”

you frown up and cock your head to the side. he wasn’t trying to be discreet, but he still feels a bit sheepish that you’ve caught on.

“shua, what is this about?”

he sighs. “i’m trying to prove a point here. c’mon, squeeze your thighs around me.”

“you know you have nothing to prove though, right?” you press. “you’re the best i’ve ever been with. i mean yeah the sex with him was good but it was nowhere near-”

“baby, please,” joshua practically begs, unable to stand hearing any more about your ex-boyfriend fucking you (even though, again, he was the one to bring it up). “let me do this?”

“right, sorry.”

joshua smirks and leans down to kiss you again, feeling himself twitch against your thigh when you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. he pulls away after another moment or so and slaps his cock against your cunt a couple of times, making you whimper pitifully in the back of your throat.

then, he lets go of himself and brings his hand to your mouth.

“spit.”

you do, right into the palm of his hand, and joshua uses the saliva to lubricate the length of his cock before pushing the tip inside of you.

you’d been watching him the whole time but as soon as he starts filling you up you let your head fall back onto the mattress with a quiet “fuck”.

“you’re so fucking wet,” joshua groans.

he goes slowly for his own sake. you feel too good, too perfect, for him to risk going any faster. he can’t cum yet, not when he’s just bottomed out, not after talking such a big game.

“god, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you this wet before. you’re making a mess, baby. was it all me, or was it him?”

“you… you-you’re hot when you’re jealous,” you say as way of explanation, making joshua laugh.

“maybe i am jealous,” he admits as he begins to move his hips. “is that really what’s gotten you all worked up?”

“mhm…”

“it is? it isn’t all those memories you have with him? of him doing this to you?”

your eyes go wide and you shake your head adamantly, like you can’t even believe he’d suggest that. admittedly, it was a little fucked up of joshua to say and he knows that, but the way you clench around him when he says it only spurs him on.

“‘m not thinking about him, i promise! i would n-never!”

he wraps a hand around your throat. “good. because you’re all mine now. isn’t that right?”

“yes! just yours, only yours.”

“that’s my girl. open.”

he spits into your mouth when you part your lips and stick out your tongue for him, clenching around him even harder when he does.

“i wanna cum,” you whine.

“already? but we’ve barely started.”

“i know… feels too good.”

“hold on a little longer for me, okay?”

“i can’t,” you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as if you’d be able to last longer by simply willing the orgasm away.

“don’t,” joshua warns, “you better not-”

you’re cumming as soon as the words leave his mouth. you’d tried your best to hold off but it was no use. the deck was stacked against you from the very beginning.

joshua isn’t mean enough to ruin the orgasm for you so he fucks you through it as you mumble out a string of apologies mixed in with you begging him not to stop.

he’s quite pleased with himself under the transparent guise of being disappointed with you for not following his instructions. he’s almost positive no one’s been able to make you cum that fast before. or that hard. and if they have… he doesn’t need to know.

“oh baby,” he coos condescendingly, wiping the tears that had fallen onto your cheeks with his thumb. “did that feel good?” you nod shyly like you’re not sure whether or not it’s a trick question. “i bet you’re really sensitive now, huh?” another nod. “that’s too bad, angel. because i am nowhere near done with you.”

literally could not stop thinking ab this concept when i heard it 🥴😵‍💫 but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove @tantofaz123-blog @lee-hjyjn @ateez-star @baesgyus @likexaxdaydream @sunniesoobin @thefairwhitelight @pretty-thoughts @yutayoongi @redamancygnf @hoe4wonwoo @yeostars @i-might-be-in-love-with-hao @camrenrodrigoswift1 @nichobins @bfwonu @arikimtanapon @ammcg0119 @redspider267 @fwess @horangipowerr @soobzao @kuleo26 @k00kiemonster99 @poutypoutybin @jeonghanspinkhair @jadiekinzz @yo0nspoon @djj6112 @drama-1998-girl @kjdlashes @5xiang @yeritheloml @slut4seokjin @nc-teen @jungkookswife24069 @tannieflix @romromthedeer @urvashi435 @aurumness @sunghoonth @y00nzin0 @saatans @ksy-horanghae @haogyuslut @crushonwoo @rinshabitat @ivivz @cixrosie @princessofallthatsweird @friseealamode @candidupped @joshuahongnumbers @bxby-bloom @guavagyu @zhangyixingxing1 @foxdaisy @emotionalwreckkk @imonanotherlebel @vern0nsworld @cyjsfairy @jihoonliker @freakyfriedrice @yeosayang @myaerii @lenireads @itbtoblikethatsometimes @vernonburger @soonhoonietrash @tinkerbell460 @shmooooo @tweetiebirb @sluttywoozi

add yourself to my taglist(s) here!!

[citrenecult]

making some late night rambles about the bishops and their animal species.

Leshy is an adult bagworm but not a moth, so that does mean that I am headcanoning him transmasc in the process, it is only natural. My only understand of bagworms is wormadam from Pokemon tho so I dunno if I'll incorporate bagworm habits into Leshy.

Heket is a bull frog, because I'd think she'd be loud like one. I once saw a picture labeled bullfrog so loud it causes vibration in the water, and that's Heket to me. Also did you about the time ravens were surgically removing the liver from frogs, causing them to explode? It's not related to the subject to hand but I thought us was intresting.

Kallamar is an humbolt squid. I've watched 50 most deadly animals in Latin america, these fucking things terrify me. Holy shit. Horrific little creatures. Humbolt's turn a bright red color when aggrivated and agressive, so in theory, when I get around to drawing comics or something, that should be fun to okay around with. Hopefully.

Shamura I'm not sure what exactly to base them on but Goliath Birdeaters and Wolf spiders are very tempting. Like, holy shit a spider bug enough to catch birds on the regular that it becomes part of their name?? Wild. Maybe I'll mix the two together to make an abomination of a spider. AA really fucked up thing.

Narinder is a black house cat because I think it's funny if the Bishops were all distinctly wild animals and Narinder was something domestic. Also because he is an asshole.

[021894s]

— 05 night out

MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

PAIRING: brothers bsf!sunghoon x f!reader

WARNINGS: cussing, brotherly body shaming, sibling banter

AUTHORS NOTE: enjoy this little filler chapter while I work on the good stuff hehe. ALSO THERE IS A WRITTEN PART BELOW

You step into the KBBQ restaurant, immediately greeted by the sizzle of meat on the grill and the buzz of conversation. Your eyes scan the room, almost instinctively landing on Sunghoon. He's sitting across the table, looking effortlessly good, the kind of good that makes your heart skip a beat. The warm light from the grill dances across his face, highlighting his features.

He looks up, his eyes catching yours, and for a second, the world tilts a little. It's just a glance, but it's loaded with an unspoken conversation. He quickly shifts his focus back to the group, a slight smirk playing on his lips. You find yourself wondering if he's just as aware of the electric undercurrent between you two as you are. Throughout the dinner, those brief, stolen glances don't stop. They're subtle, but they're there, and they speak volumes.

but why are you feeling like this? maybe you got too in your head about what your friends had to say. sure, sunghoon was a good guy and his looks don’t hurt, but you practically grew up with him. having met him when heeseung first brought him over to work on a project in the 8th grade. of course as an 11 year old girl, you couldn’t help but harbor a small crush on the older boy.

you try your best to push down whatever it is you’re feeling. if you feel these things about him now, what will happen when you begin your arrangement in 2 weeks from now? you swallow hardly, choosing to ignore him as best as you can for the remainder of the evening.

as the night goes on and bottles of soju are being emptied, the group decides to take a stroll through the streets of downtown seoul. you were always so grateful at the fact that despite the different lifestyles, you and your brothers friend groups were able to mesh to perfectly together. you don’t know what you’d do without them (ksana boys included) .

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[fatescaprice]

hihi!! could I req some platonic aventurine hcs with a teen!reader?

platonic aventurine and teen!reader

content warnings: none

note: aa my first request !! this was v fun to write so thank you for sending it in, anon! also thank u to the aventurine liker friends i bothered abt this . ive never written him before . u know who u are (i also know What u are /lh)

i think i turned it more familial than i was planning but i still hope you enjoy ^_^

Regardless of how you met — whether you’re biological siblings or coworkers or more akin to a stray he picked up on his travels — it’s not much of a surprise to his subordinates to know that AVENTURINE plays favourites when it comes to you. He’s come to see you like family, after all, though whether that’s more of a blessing or a curse is up for debate on your part.

He definitely seems like the type to spoil you. You want to catch a game in Taikiyan? No worries. Want to try some authentic Xianzhou street food? Easy-peasy. He’ll call you a brat, a handful, but every time he’s already brought out his credit card before the word has even fully left his mouth.

The rather… demanding nature of Aventurine’s job often calls him away on business trips, and even if you can come along he tends to snag a little trinket for you as a souvenir, or lets you pick out one for yourself. Either way, when he’s not around, he has one of his grunts look after you — he calls it chaperoning, but the way he ruffles your hair makes it feel more like it’s supposed to be babysitting. Sure, sure, he knows you can take care of yourself, he’ll say, but think of it like deposit insurance. Same difference!

He just loooves teasing you. With the way his silver-tongued, corporate lingo comes out almost as second nature to him, if he happens to throw in a snide little insult or two it’s usually hard to tell until after he’s already said it, and he’s long since shifted his attention to something else, all while wearing the smuggest, most infuriating smile.

He claims this is a privilege for him and him alone, though. The annoyed look on your face is only funny when he causes it, he claims — so just let your dependable elder brother take care of any nuisances, okay?

[infamous-if]

RO reaction to MC just bombing on stage? Just having a bad day and singing/performing terribly? But sitcom level terrible. How would they break the news? Would they tell them?

This is so funny omg

The song ends and you do a quick bow, trying to catch your breath. That was good, right? You glance back at your band members, who are all weirdly looking away. When Rowan catches your gaze, he quickly turns his head, suddenly interested elsewhere. You shrug. Meh. It was good to me.

You and your bandmates get off the stage and you beam when you see [RO]. "So? What'd you think?"

Seven (no hatred): Seven makes a face that's a cross between a grimace and a flinch. They put their hands on your arms, rubbing it affectionately. Oddly enough, it feels like Sev's trying to make you feel better about something. "You know I always think you're great." You can't help but pick up on the emphasis on the 'I.'

"So it was good?"

They narrow their eyes comically small and nod slowly. "Ye...aa...h?Yeha.....aeah...." As if giving up on the pretense, they shake their head. "No. It wasn't. Do you have a stomach ache perhaps? Heart burn?"

"What? No. Why, that bad?"

A shrug. "If I suck, I'd like to tell myself it's for a reason so I can feel better."

"If?" you say.

Seven grins. "Hasn't happened yet."

Seven (during-hatred): "That was fucking embarrassing."

G: G beams and puts two palms on your shoulders. "I really appreciate your dedication to the bit."

You tilt your head, confused. "What?"

G's brows furrow, and then they drop their hands. Then they realize something and huff out a laugh. "Wait. That wasn't a joke?"

Panic rises within you. "No?"

G's cheeks balloon--as if they're trying not to laugh--before the effort fails and they double over. "Oh my god. Seriously?"

"G?! Are you laughing at me?"

They can't stop their laughter and they put a hand on their cheek, awed and amused all at once. "That was terrible. I thought you were kidding! Holy shit, I need a copy of that performance for posterity."

Victoria: "Um." Victoria averts her gaze, looking a bit awkward. "I'm going to tell you because I care about you: it was kind of horrible."

"Kind of?"

A flinch. "Very BUT." She puts her hand on your cheek. "This is just one performance. You'll do great tomorrow! Maybe you were just stressed..."

"I thought it was great..." you mumble.

She makes a face, dropping her maternal act a moment. "Seriously?--Oh." She shakes her head. "Sorry."

Sebastian: Sebastian stares at you blankly, though he looks a bit guilty. "I don't have enough experience to have an opinion."

You shove him playfully. "Just tell me."

Sebastian's throat bobs and he says: "It didn't sound great but I don't know enough to feel confident in that claim."

You frown, feeling both hurt and confused. "Why do you sound like you're in a job interview?"

"You know, I think this conversation would be more beneficial to your progress with someone else..."

August: August tilts their head. "Are you asking seriously or is this supposed to be a joke?"

"What?" "Oh. So serious then." They thin their lips, teetering on the heels of their shoes as they think. "It was bad."

"What?"

"Yeah. Terrible, actually." August smiles. "But that's okay. We all have bad days, don't we?"

"The thing is, I thought I did great..."

Their smile drops. "Oh..?"

Orion: Orion doesn't look up from his phone and you frown, tapping him. "Hello?"

He meets your gaze and waves his phone. "Sorry, I was just on Indeed looking for another job." "What? Wait, the performance was bad?"

He looks momentarily horrified, and then helpless, and then disappointed. "The fact that you can't even tell worries me greatly."

You frown. "I thought it was good."

He shakes his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose in resignation. "This is my fault. I've been coddling you too much."

"You think what you do is coddling?!"