#appie writes

[stankworth]

I had a stressful week and my new coping mechanism is drawing moments from my fanfic that I haven't written yet... the theme for these doodles is Simon Experiences Bisexuality

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

Honestly, I think I’ve discovered the actual reason Amber and Alfie don’t work in HOA like they work in the original HHA or DHA. And it’s not entirely due to the actual canon events that are written for this version of the pairing (the dating handbook, Amber’s “no” to Alfie’s attempt at breaking up, forcing Amber into the trial relationship in the first place, etc., etc.), though it certainly doesn’t help. It actually comes down to how their characters were adapted for the English version of the show, and how they are fundamentally different than the OGs.

I’ll start with Alfie first. Alfie in HOA is a goober. He’s doofy, well-meaning, and most importantly childlike. Not even just childish, but childlike. He’s boyish and bubbly, and he certainly makes some weird, sorta sexual comments (especially in S1), but on the whole he’s quite an innocent character. Essentially, he reads as very young. Which he is, especially at the start of the show where he’s probably supposed to be about 15/16, but could even be as young as 14.

Appie, on the other hand, is also a goober. But a different type. He’s honestly way more like Jeroen than Alfie is like Jerome, meaning he’s a something of a womanizer, a bit douchier, and on the whole reads a lot older than Alfie, which I’m almost certain is canonical across all characters (with HHA characters supposedly ending the show at the age of 19, with the timeline across the 4 seasons being only two years— three at most).

The few things character-wise both Appie and Alfie share intrinsically are that they’re besties with Jeroen/Jerome who doesn’t always treat him well, his love for a good practical joke, and (in earlier seasons) his pining for Amber. Of course, Appie also goes through phases of being a bit of a ladies man (see his random interest in Mara), but on the whole these things are constant. But already, the English version of the character is a lot more twinkly eyed and is like “Amber’s really pretty, I hope she notices me” as opposed to the Dutch “Damn she’s hot, lemme tap that”. It’s very subtle, because he’s obviously not a sleazy, bad guy, but it’s though being friend zoned by Amber (for the whole series) that Appie begins to loosen up and be less of a sleaze and more of the silly and whimsical guy we know him as; that’s because of Dutch Amber’s characterization.

I’ll come back to why all that matters, after I discuss the Ambers. (For the sake of keeping track, I’ll refer to them by their last names). Rosenbergh is a rich, pretty, ditzy party girl, but she’s incredibly perceptive. She sniffs out bullshit in an instant, especially with the Mick and Mara situation, but overall she has wicked foot-in-mouth syndrome and just sorta blurts out the first thing that pops into her head even if it’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever heart in your life. She’s extravagant, over-the-top, full of whimsy, and is downright silly. Rosenbergh is simultaneously a ditz and very smart. Simultaneously is the key word here.

Millington is not. She is a much more toned down version of her OG counterpart, and I think that is mostly due to the different actresses takes on the character. This isn’t to say, Millington isn’t any of the those of adjectives I used earlier, but the difference between the English and the Dutch versions of the character is that while Rosenbergh is both smart and ditzy, Millington is simply smart and plays at being ditzy. At least that’s how it reads, and how it reads is incredibly important in this case. Millington would never be caught dead in some of the situations Rosenbergh found herself in, because she’s a fundamentally more uptight version of the character.

So why does all this matter? Because the version of Alfie that we get from the very start is far more like Appie after a good hunk of his subtle character development— far more like Amber Rosenbergh. Amber Millington, on the other hand, is not the type of girl to ever mesh that well with a wild, goofy personality like Alfie’s. She’s just not. Alfie would work super well with Rosenbergh, however, because she’s this whimsical girl with a lot of heart. It’s why Appie works so well with her, too.

This isn’t a diss of HOA!Amber, by the way, because her English characterization is a masterful adaptation of the OG, but there’s a reason why even in S3 of HOA, at the supposed established point of Amfie’s relationship, they still feel so estranged from each other. At the end of the day, Millington has a different outlook on life and an entirely different mindset than Alfie. This isn’t to say they couldn’t work ever, but they’re just not the same pairing that Amber/Appie are.

It also didn’t help that Amfie had no best friends era. Like, sometimes I think we forget that Amber and Appie didn’t get together until the reunion movie. Like they weren’t a canon couple in the series. He liked her, but she didn’t like him back and they were besties. Their chemistry was chaotic and silly, and they had to grow into each other for them to work. Which is why they work. Amber and Alfie never did that, and part of me wonders if that wasn’t entirely because of the plot the English writers put down for them, but rather because the ways Ana and Alex played the characters off each other just didn’t allow for it.

Which brings me to my last point: Willow. Arguably, Willow is more like HHA!Amber than HOA!Amber is, and that’s all because of the magic word I’ve been using this whole, poorly-written essay: whimsy. Willow is the glitterbomb to Alfie’s fuse. Their dynamic feels exactly the same as Appie and Amber because Willow is the writers’ second attempt at having Amber Rosenbergh in the picture, and that’s why Walfie works so much more naturally.

Anyway, this got long and I’m sure I missed stuff but yeah. TL;DR: Amfie was unable to replicate Ampie bc they’re just different

[oodlyenough]

i'm writing a post-aa3 franziska fic and it occurred to me that if we're playing by califauxnia rules she can't buy a drink and that's the funniest thing imaginable. the poor server is getting an earful. i am FRANZISKA VON KARMA i am a PRODIGY i've been practicing law for six years what do you MEAN 'do i want a shirley temple instead'

[ottertooferswriting]

Stay at Camp: AstarionxHalsin Full chapter 1.

Word count about 6.8k, Mildly spicy so it's getting a tag.

Trying a Dual POV for the first time ever. Each chapter will loosely follow the timeline but have time skips between.

Tags: Pining, Angst, Mentions of Astarion's Trauma, Vampire Caprisun, Emotional\Physical Edging.

Ch1 Act 1: Waiting and Watching 

POV: Halsin 

Blood was a scent that Halsin was familiar with on an intimate level. More recently that of goblin, druid, tiefling and gnoll. His senses lately were all but flooded with the acrid, metallic tang. He couldn’t seem to escape it. Random memories from his time in the wretched cave prison he had been kept in still came roaring back from time to time; whenever the particular combination of rot, filth and drying pools of red so dark it nearly became black hit his nose. 

In the week that he had spent trailing after the camp of the unturned, unable to fully join their circle but still welcomed to spend his time amongst them the scent had been fleeting. But still present. Each time those who had been selected for their skills needed for that day came back bloodied from their exploits he could tell how badly each had been wounded. 

The lingering copper and sulfur and magic from whatever or whomever they had slain was not terribly pleasant, but everyone bathed in a timely manner the moment they could. It faded quickly enough to a muted, background hum. On all but one. 

Pale of skin and pale of hair, lovely in form and face and sharp of tongue. The elf always smelled of blood. He couldn’t seem to shake the scent any more than Halsin could. But the way it clung to his scent like an old lover or perhaps an old enemy; engrained so deeply it likely would never leave was uncommon. Unusual even amongst those who claimed killing as their profession. 

If he didn’t know better, knew the limitations of a particular brand of monster who had very similar traits to the quick witted and contrary companion Tav kept, Halsin would have been inclined to think him a vampire. But the small details such as walking about in broad daylight and lack of aversion to running water amongst other things dissuaded such lines of thought. And yet. The scent of blood remained. Fleeting glimpses of what might have been fangs taunted Halsin’s vision. 

It was a puzzle he felt more and more inclined to solve the longer he remained on the outskirts of the unturned’s company. No one spoke of the elves' potential danger to the camp, no one made mention of any oddness. The outsiders view, looking in on the comings and goings or lack thereof of those asked to remain behind was a fascinating series of individual tales. 

An undercurrent of unspoken information, like a shroud over any interactions he had throughout the waiting days only sharpened the vague feeling of unease whenever he found his eyes drifting to white hair and red eyes. He was careful not to be caught staring. Little details from his watchful observations, like sparkling stones amongst the river beds they often camped beside taunted his imagination; piling themselves into new combinations the more he saw.

 The pale elf spent a rather significant portion of his daylight hours wandering from sun warmed stone to dappled section of ground, and yet his skin never darkened. Never burned. Not even a hint of sunscorch to the silken looking expanses of flesh that he bared as if he couldn’t get enough. As if he had gone without for a very long time. Halsin had found himself doing the same for several days after his rescue from the goblin camp. Simply breathing in the clean, untainted air in the warmth of the sun. 

He knew next to nothing and yet things he felt he ought not too about each companion in the camp simply from watching. Gale practiced his lines when he thought no one could hear. Lae’zel worried constantly, forcing her body into stillness to meditate. Wyll feared his patrons' return and often scanned the ground as they walked. 

Shadowheart was constantly watching her back, eyes flicking amongst the rest as if waiting for a blade to appear between her ribs. Karlach rubbed at the glow in her chest with eyes far from their physical location. And Astarion wore a mask of carefully curated emotion so second nature it was difficult to parse what was act and what was truth. 

 Agitation was an emotion that was not difficult for Halsin to read. He had trained himself to recognize it among many species, humanoid races included as he guided his Grove. The first day that the elf had been left in camp, he had wandered off into the woods for about an hour and returned smelling faintly of fresh rabbit's blood but without a carcass. No one in the camp had seemed to notice or care, so Halsin had kept his peace despite his vague disapproval of wasting a hunting kill by not bringing it back for the others. But he did not know the circumstance that prevented it, so he said nothing. 

 The second day the pale elf had gone out and returned with nothing again, not even the scent of a kill. The third day it was the same, and the pinched corners of his mouth told the druid that his frustration over his failure was beginning to mount. The male did not join the others around the fire that night for their meal. Nor the next. 

The fifth day Halsin positioned himself near the elves tent and watched him pace. It seemed as if Astarion simply couldn’t keep still, traveling the short distance from the interior of his abode to the outskirts before turning back in short, quick strides. Each movement was layered with grace and speed that seemed almost too much even for a high elf, jerky in small spurts that reminded Halsin of the near to starving dire wolf without a pack to hunt alongside that he had brought into the Grove a few seasons ago. 

It was nearing nearly two hours before his pacing, which had gained the attention of the increasingly nervous looking wizard, sparked an accident. The human male had been cleaning some sort of implement, and the sharp edge slipped. The scent of fresh blood sent a bolt through the elf, who’s spine straightened so fast Halsin winced in sympathy.

Curiosity sparked within the druid as the pale elf turned sharply on his heel, eyes locked on the peaceful landscape outside of their camp. He left without a word, even as one of the others made their way over to Gale to see if he had cut himself badly enough to need a spell or a potion. 

Halsin waited a mere five count before he pushed away from the rock he had been leaning on to trail the elf’s speedy exit. He needed answers and Astarion would provide them. 

POV: Astarion

The druid had followed him. He wasn’t even being subtle about it, not like he had been with his little staring sessions over the course of the last few days. At first the attention had been flattering, but when the burly male had neglected to approach him asking for a good time Astarion had quickly realized that the bear shifter’s interest was not from a lustful mindset. 

He watched him like a guard dog. Like a territorial beast who had spotted another predator and was unsure if he was aggressive. A bleeding heart for others and little sense of self preservation paired with that impressive physique made for an irritating combination. The druid would likely be quite handy in any future scraps, but until he could secure a position within Halsin’s counted individuals he would offer protection too, Astarion wasn’t about to push his luck. 

He had managed to charm his way into the group and had enjoyed its advantages with battle ready companions. They had fought beside him to keep that pesky monster hunter from dragging him back to answer for what was undoubtedly one of Cazador’s schemes. Sure he had to deal with Tav being far too willing to throw them into danger for strangers without asking much of anything in return. But that was a minor irritation at best in the grand scheme of things. 

With the past week being the exception, he was better fed and freer than he had ever been. The hunger gnawing on his insides had begun to reach the point that he could no longer suppress his instincts. He had made a promise and he did not intend to break it. Even if the idiot Wizard had practically been begging to be bitten with that stunt with the cooking knife.

Underestimation had saved his own hide many times. As a simple spawn, it was often that his skill or strength was given less weight than it ought and he had used that to his advantage in many a hunt. Playing the part of a bird with a crippled wing, a limp to his step or sucking in his cheeks to make him seem a little more frail often lured his mark in sensing perceived weakness.  

That tactic, implemented in a moment of impulsive confidence the moment he was out of eyesight of the others backfired in a rather spectacular fashion. A hot hand, broad and stronger than he had anticipated clamping around the back of his neck startled the elf. A short yelp left his lips as the scenery before him suddenly backward lurched away from his eyes, vanishing as Halsin’s broad chest filled his vision. 

Astarion released a sharp prolonged hiss, baring his fangs in instinctive threat as his back made contact with the rough bark of the nearest tree. Faster than he would have thought it possible for the larger male to move, the druid had both of his wrists contained within a fist, hauling his limbs up above his head so high he nearly left the ground entirely. Booted toes scrabbling for purchase, the vampire thrashed as panic suffused his chest. 

A hard knee pressing to the crease between his hip and thigh, pinning one of his legs and removing any kind of leverage he might have gained did nothing to still the trickle of cold terror that numbed his fingertips. Eyes blown wide, Astarion flicked his gaze up to lock with his captors coolly watchful stare. Neither spoke during their brief altercation, words during a hunt were not in either of their wheelhouses; wild things that they were. 

Actions, scent and instinct were far more important than paltry sounds. He was weaker than he had thought from not having fed for nearly a week. Despite the tadpole negating the influence of the sun, it apparently couldn't water down the effects of fatigue from hunger for long. He could not break free from the druid's grip.  

  When his struggles did not lessen, Halsin tightened his grip on his wrists until the bones began to grind. The lance of pain brought a snarl to the vampire's mouth and magic to his fingertips, but before he could utter the first syllable of a spell to try and gain his freedom, a thick finger probed directly between his lips.

Choking on the incantation he was about to spit, Astarion blinked in shock as Halsin carefully curled his calloused fingertip under the length of his fang, tugging on it as if to inspect that it was truly attached. A wave of warmth flowed over the elves body, starting from his head and seeping into his tense muscles. He tried to fight it, but as the druid kept the pressure constant against his fang he found his resistance fading away. 

He had only ever heard of this effect, and considering the circumstances decided he was not much of a fan. Fang holding was supposed to be amongst those a vampire or vampire spawn could trust wholly, a sign of closeness and affection within a colony. He had never considered that it could be used against him.

POV: Halsin

“You actually are a vampire. How is this possible?” 

As Astarion's body slowly went limp under his grip, as if someone had poured a potent relaxant directly into his bloodstream, Halsin eased up on how tightly he was holding onto the male's wrists. How firmly he pressed his knee into his torso. He didn’t want to hurt the elf, but his panicked fighting when he had been grabbed had not felt calculated to the druid. It had reminded him of a trapped animal, a predator caught with one foot in a snare that would continue to struggle until it ripped the limb off to simply escape. 

Though the word was a bit warped due to the finger that was partially filling his mouth, the answer at once surprised and made perfect sense to the druid. 

“Tadpole.”

Considering the simple one-worded explanation, Halsin watched the vampire's expression contort as his jaws tried to close, the bottom fangs seeking purchase in his skin to try and draw blood before the other male stopped himself with a grimace. Halsin removed his finger from the vampire’s mouth and instead closed his hand just under the elves jaw, preventing him from turning his head to try and bite into one of his arms. 

“Are the others aware of this affliction of yours?” 

The arresting, garnet color of his temporary captives' eyes briefly vanished in a lengthy roll as the male's defensive snark made a full recovery. Astarion sneered up at the druid, wiggling his fingers as though they had lost circulation as he released a dramatic sigh. 

“Of course they are. I have an agreement with Lokris that usually keeps me in proper adventuring condition as it were. It’s all consensual of course, they simply haven’t had the chance to feed me for the last few days.” 

Understanding dawned. Halsin raised an eyebrow, not budging an inch as he thought over the implications of such a thing. 

“So you’ve been going hungry for almost a week, and unable to find anything in the forest to eat as game is scarce in this area. Did Lokris make you promise to only feed from them?”

“No, but I have standards and that magic addicted wizard and whatever piddly creatures are scurrying about are not up to snuff. I’m not about to drink from him of all people. Who knows what that would end up doing to me. I agreed that I would wait until Lokris approached me to feed off them. No sneaking about taking un-agreed to sips. From them anyway. Bandits or other baddies were going to be killing anyway are another story. It doesn’t matter if I bite them as they won’t be living long enough to suffer any side effects like Lokris does after I take a meal. But as you’ve seen through your very very close watch on my every movement over the last week, there hasn’t been any chance for me to do that lately.” 

Surprise flickered briefly across Halsin’s face. He hadn’t considered that kind of understanding between the members of the party. It was a pragmatic approach, though obviously one that had a few flaws. 

“That is honorable of you.” 

A scoff, full of self derision filled the space between them. Halsin frowned faintly as the vampire rolled his eyes again, tongue flicking across the sharpened points of his fangs almost absently. The glitter in his red eyes darkened a notch, gaze drifting down to the pulse of the other male's throat for a brief moment before he tore his gaze away.

“Yes, having a personal juice box is all well and good until they aren’t available and I’m stuck wondering if my thirst will drive me to go nibble on some wretched squirrel or other critter to tide me over. Now that I’ve had a taste of something better I’m afraid woodland pests don’t rank very highly on my menu choices. Now that you know I'm not about to go feral and gnawing on the necks of my fellow compatriots, why don’t you let me loose so I can go about my errand.” 

   As the vampire shifted, perhaps to alleviate any discomfort from the slightly precarious position he had been trapped in, Halsin removed his knee. He did not yet let go of the vampire's wrists, but did allow him to take his full weight back onto his feet as he mulled over the new information he had been given. This situation would not be easily resolved if the male came back without having found anything to snack on. The animals around the area were few and far between, let alone large enough for the elf to get more than the equivalent of a few mouthfuls of blood from. And the wording from Astarion made it seem as if Tav was one of the first humanoids he had ever fed from, which surely couldn’t be correct. 

“What are the side effects from you feeding from someone?”

Ignoring his request to be released for the moment, Halsin considered the elf with a far less distrustful lens than he had before. The male had been surprisingly up front with him when not offered another option, and though he would confirm some of the details once the others returned for the night, he had detected no lie or deception in the vampire's words.

 “A general sense of weakness I’ve been told. It usually only takes a day to wear off, but by that time I realistically ought to feed again as I’m not draining my current meal sources. I can go a few days without, but any longer and I begin to get…twitchy. As you’ve seen. ” 

“Ah. A trade off then in more ways than one. Well, seeing as Lokris is indisposed at the moment in their agreement to you I believe I have a solution.”

POV: Astarion

“Feed from me when they cannot supply themselves.”

Astarion could hardly believe his ears. A short laugh, full of incredulity slipped from his lips before he could stop it, and when the fingers still around the lower part of his jaw flexed, he flinched. The grip hadn’t tightened enough to hurt, but it was reminder enough that he was still at the druid's mercy. Had been considered a threat that Halsin was willing to confront on behalf of the others.

 He may have just been the second person to propose a role as his personal food source in less than a month, but there had to be a catch. An extra price. There always was. With Lokris it was his participation in whatever poor unfortunate refugee situation or sob story from an urchin child they got themselves entangled in while they searched for a way to deal with the tadpoles in their heads. Halsin would be no different, even if it was another unspoken. 

“You want to let me drink from you? Why? To save a few of your furry forest friends from falling victim to my fangs?”

He couldn’t help the biting tone, the lashing words. Couldn’t stop himself from questioning the offer. No one ever did anything that could potentially harm themselves for free. Not even the recent heroic’s were an example of that, they looted every place they stormed and every deceased body they passed for items to sell, potions to line their pockets and new gear. That was the hidden fee to their little parties' help that no one ever asked about and they never ran their mouths on. 

   Unlike many who had wilted from his thorny tongue in the past, Halsin did not shrink from the vitriol spat at him. His head tilted very slightly to the side, watching Astarion patiently as he began to wriggle again, unsatisfied with his current contained state. Under another situation the vampire would have found the larger male's show of physical strength and mastery over his body to be attractive. But in this moment, their negotiations if he could call them that, it just reinforced how weak he was. How helpless. 

As if he had spoken the words aloud, the druid released both his wrists and his throat at the same time. He did not take a step back, but his presence altered. Not diminishing exactly, but adjusting to be less threatening. More shelter than blockade. It was an infuriating switch, and one that made Astarion uncomfortable. He was not some waif that needed to be coddled. 

“Hunt or be hunted, that is the way of predator and prey. I do not hold your need for food against you Astarion. Everything requires sustenance, whether that be from a bowl of honey porridge in the morning or a living being’s blood. I simply offer an alternative to supplement what you require. Your feeding from me would lessen the strain on Lokris, and provide another source from which you can take without as many harmful effects. I have an item that can nullify any ill feelings from your bite.”  

The sound of his name from the admittedly handsome druid’s lips sent a pang through the vampire he was not willing to entertain just yet. His mixed feelings about this encounter were still entangled with each other, but the hunger in his belly only worsened with every passing minute. 

“Fine. Do you want a schedule marked out with ink on a calendar?” 

A little half smile, crooked on one end caught his attention. Usually when he wasn’t putting up effort to be as charming and suave as possible, when he let the thorns of his personality show through the rose petals people tended to back away. If he wasn’t good company then he wasn’t company at all. And yet. The druid's warm chuckle, amber rich and full of warmth almost like the sun’s rays set something that might have been butterflies a-flutter within his hollow stomach. 

“No. I will likely be more regularly available when you are not traveling with Lokris. Simply come to me whenever you need to feed and I will ensure you get a meal.” 

Huffing a short breath through his nose, Astarion grumbled lightly under his breath. He didn’t need the muscle bound male to go changing his mind on him. 

“Very well then. How do you want to do this hm? Usually my food sources are a bit more prone.”

POV: Halsin

In response to the vampire's question, Halsin reached down and scooped the lithely muscled figure up as if he weighed nothing more than a sheaf of paper. The small, startled sound the male released was unfairly cute, as was his glare as his fingers sought purchase in the leather of the druids outfit. Turning on his heel, Halsin backed into the tree he had just been pinning the other elf against and slid down, crossing his legs as he settled. 

Draping the other male across his lap with his feet hanging off the side of his thigh, Halsin propped an arm behind the vampire's back and held up one of his wrists, proffering the vein that would give a steady flow of blood for him to take from. 

“You may drink from here, with how long you’ve gone without a meal it would be safer for me to not have you attached to my throat for the time being.” 

What was clearly a pout crossed the elves lips for a brief moment before the vampire settled into the new position, nimble fingers reaching out to begin undoing the bracer that the druid wore to bare his skin. As the armor came off, Astarion regarded the evenly tanned skin with a faintly raised eyebrow.

“Are you lacking the farmer's tan all over, or is it just your upper body that gets to see the sun equally.” 

Flirtation seemed to be the default, once the snark had been deployed. Halsin had watched him use his charms on Tav and even on one memorable occasion the Githyanki when he wanted something, and while it was fascinating to watch there was always an air of calculation to the vampire's words and movements. A performance.

“It’s all over if you're that curious.”  

The considering side eye glance that statement got him brought the faintest tinge of pink to the druid's cheeks. His gaze tracked the flash of a tongue as Astarion licked his lips, parting them deliberately slowly as slender, pale fingers came up to cradle the back of his wrist. The contrast between them was stark. His calloused, broad hand and forearm thick with muscle against the more elegant curve of the other elves' limbs. Astarion wasn’t skinny or frail in the sense that most would assume by comparing the two, but it was rather like seeing an ivy vine wrapping its way around a thick oak limb. 

 “Oh I am curious.”

A sharp sting that faded into a dull ache. Halsin had heard that a true vampire bite could be exquisitely pleasurable. The pain of Astarion’s, though minor enough, told the druid that he was a spawn, the commonest class of his particular kind of monster. His interest in knowing just how the tadpole was accomplishing such feats only grew as he felt the first tugs against his sensitizing flesh. 

“Ngh..” 

Ears perking at the sound, Halsin gripped at the folds of his pants with the hand that was behind the vampire's back. That had not been faked. Another soft, barely audible sound of delight as the male fed from his wrist had the druid’s breath hitching. The enjoyment of pleasures, both simple and carnal, delighted him. Called to his instincts to provide for and pamper those he kept in his confidence. The sight of the occupant of his lap with half lidded eyes and flushed cheeks because of what he was granting sent a sharp zing of desire flitting through his limbs. 

Unabashed, uncontrived contentment. No picture perfect smirks, no posing to let whoever was watching get the best angle of his body. Simple satisfaction through having a need met. Repressing a shudder as his cock began to fill, Halsin allowed a smile to tug at his lips as the faint movement caused the vampire to pull his captured limb closer, fingers tightening as if the other male would try and rip it away prematurely. 

Being a big man, he had more to give than another might. Carefully counting the gulps that Astarion took, Halsin allowed his intuition to guide his actions as he slid his fingers up into the white hair at the base of the other elves' skull. Taking a firm grip without pulling just yet, the druid spoke in a low tone. Too loud of a volume he felt would break the spell, and he wanted to enjoy the sight before him a little while longer. 

“Two more swallows and then you're done.”

Red eyes flicked to meet his own, hazy with the euphoria of feeding. Consideration of his command, a flash of defiance, then acknowledgment shone in the male's gaze and he slowed his final two swallows, dragging them out an extra second or two. As his fangs slid free of the punctures, the vampire flicked his tongue over the first small hole to clot the wound. A trickle of blood slipped from the second as he took his time cleaning the first, but before a drop could fall from the druid's wrist, he ducked his chin and caught it. 

Lapping up the trail the warm liquid had made until he reached the source, Astarion sealed the second puncture. His lips wrapped back around the bite as if he simply couldn’t help himself, applying gentle pressure as if he could hardly refrain from sinking his sharp fangs back into the barely healed marks. 

Using the grip he still held within the vampire’s hair, Halsin tugged firmly, guiding the elves head back and exposing the graceful column of his throat, and the healed bite mark on it. The motion seemed to naturally arch the male's back and Astarion released another little moan, his fingers denting the skin and nails digging little half moon marks into the druid's flesh as his mouth fell partially open at the manhandling.  

A bolt of lust shot through Halsin as his eyes devoured the blissful expression laid bare before him and his cock pulsed with intensified interest against the elves hip. Voice husky as he murmured an apology, the druid started to shift himself back so the evidence of his desire wasn’t quite so aggressive in its presentation and blinked in surprise when instead, the vampire scooted closer, swiveling his hips to provide friction. 

POV: Astarion

There it was. The cost of his meal had been unspoken after all. At least it was one he was used to and knew how to pay. The girth that was showing itself against the swell of his hip was large. Larger than he was accustomed to taking, especially after nearly two weeks away from his typical duties for Cazador. 

Perhaps he could convince the druid to not jump straight into the fucking. He had a bottle of oil in his pocket that he had kept on him for just such an occasion, and if the size was true to its prediction he would need at least two fingers to ensure he wouldn’t rip. 

A bolt of shame lanced through his musings, cutting off the line of thought. That wasn’t how this worked. His body going through a little pain was a small price to pay for being fed, and it would just be a waste of Halsin’s time to do something so trivial as prepare him to take his cock. Confusion flickered across the vampire's mind when instead of taking the logical next step of removing clothing now that his part of the deal had come to collection the druid instead tried to move his lower half away. 

As if Astarion hadn’t already felt the monster length stirring. As if he wasn’t aware of just how eager the other male had to be to get himself off. The apology made less sense than the attempt to not poke his hip with the rapidly filling member. Rolling his eyes, the elf planted one foot on the ground and lifted himself up just enough to pivot in place. The grip in his hair slid free as he rotated, clothed back pressed to the armored chest of his latest meal ticket. Arching his spine, the pale elf tipped his head and nestled it into the crook of Halsin’s shoulder. 

Putting on his best seductive voice, bolstered by the intense satisfaction of a good meal after days without, he grabbed the others larger hands and placed them on the swell of his thighs. Pressing warming fingertips to the strangely hesitant grip in confirmation that the touch was allowed; he undulated in the male's lap.

“That. Was exquisite. A delicious meal. Now, what say we finish this encounter off with what you get in return hm?” 

The hands around his thighs flexed. Halsin’s breathing had taken on a distinctly enticed cadence, and Astarion smirked even as he inhaled the other’s scent. This was the easy part, and hopefully when it was all said and done he wouldn't have to limp too far back to camp.   

Facing forward as he was, the faintly concerned expression on the druid’s face went unnoticed as slender fingers dipped down to the lacings of his garment. Before he could so much as get the knot undone however, his wrists found themselves collected into one large palm yet again. 

Huffing out a breath as Halsin lifted his limbs away from his lap, Astarion changed the discomfited noise into a croon and forced his body to relax into the grip. He spread his legs a bit wider, scooted his hips back just an inch closer to really get a proper feel for what he would be dealing with. 

“Alright, well do this your way then, but I feel I ought to inform you that this is typically much easier when there's less cloth keeping things contained.”

   Unlike the first instance of being wrapped up within the druid's massive hand, Astarion felt far less like he was about to get unceremoniously dumped into a ditch after the other male snuffed out his existence. That and the fact that he was freshly fed made the little pulse of fear that zipped through him as the elves' jaw dipped, ruffling his carefully styled hair more of a thrill than an urge to fight or flee.

 An inhale that lifted his whole torso as Halsin breathed in his scent felt strangely intimate, usually by this point he had his pants around his knees after such a blatant offer. He was practically cradled in the male's lap, and as the hand that had been cupping the top of his thigh finally began to move, Astarion took a brief moment to begin the process of slipping within his own mind.

“No.”

A bucket of icy salt water would likely have had a more gentle effect than that single, simple word. It actually took an extra moment for the vampire to process the rejection. 

“No!? Do you mean your not going to fuck me?” 

Spluttering, nearly tripping on his words, the vampire twisted in the druid’s grasp, hoisting himself forward using his captured hands so their bodies weren’t quite so plastered together. The expression he met was not teasing, there wasn’t a single ounce of a cruel joke in the plains of the older males expression. It was utterly serious, but with an underlying element of gentleness that immediately had his hackles raising like a cat who’d had its tail stepped on.

“Whyever not??”

 “Because you do not want me too.”

That was the least expected answer he could have possibly considered. Blinking in shock, Astarion felt his mouth drop open as he stared, waiting for the punchline. The real reason. 

“Wha…”

“You have no arousal in your scent. Your earlier statement, ‘what I get in return’ gives me no indication you actually desire my touch in that way. You do not want me to fuck you. So I won't.”

Panic of an entirely different flavor began to creep down the male's spine as he realized that the druid was serious. It made no sense. He had obviously become aroused by some part of his feeding but he did not want to fuck? There had to be something else then. Another payment he desired. 

Thinking furiously back over the last half an hour, Astarion attempted to pinpoint the moment he felt the male’s body responding with need. It had been just after the initial bite. Perhaps it was the pain itself that had triggered the desire. The inherent violence of him breaking skin. 

A cold pulse of renewed fear slithered into the vampire's gut as he considered this only other logical reason. If Halsin did not wish to fuck his body, perhaps he wanted to simply hurt it. It wouldn’t be the first time someone wanted to see him bleed and whimper for them. But if he could have any say…Halsin would be the last. He hadn’t even considered that path before from the males behavior he had observed, but everyone had their dark secrets.Steeling himself with gritted fangs, Astarion opened his mouth to speak but found his tongue leaden behind his teeth. 

His wrists suddenly being dropped triggered a full body flinch. He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he had tried, and the narrowed eyes he got in return felt like a slap. Cheeks flushing, the vampire forcefully uncurled his fingers from where they had tucked into a protective ball against his palms. 

“Whatever just ran through your mind, I don’t want that either. Not with the reaction you just gave me. If you're so insistent that you give me ‘something in return’ then what I want is honesty.”

 Disbelief, then anger took up roots inside the vampires churning stomach. He was no stranger to mind games. This had to be what Halsin meant by honesty, he would ask him a humiliating or invasive question and he would have to not lie when he answered. All things considered it wasn’t the worst type of payment, he could even turn it into a challenge.  

“You want my Honesty? Very well then. That’s what you’ll get. But, you only get one answer per feeding.” 

POV: Halsin

It was written as clearly as ink across his skin that the elf thought such a boundary in their negotiations would trigger something. A reaction maybe, some kind of behavior he was more used to dealing with. The surprise when Halsin agreed without a fuss was almost as heart wrenching as the two fearful flinches he had triggered. 

“One honest answer per feeding. I accept those terms. Though, I might have an interesting time parsing out which of my questions garnered that honesty. I’ll consider our sessions ended when I think I’ve figured out which one was answered with truth.”  

The flicker of interest in the vampire's eyes before he hid it away at the banter only added to the druid’s curiosity. He hadn’t made an effort to get out of his lap, only pulled back enough that he would have a better chance at achieving said flight if he needed to. Now, with their agreement settled, the vampire turned himself so he could once again properly face the other elf. He seated himself far more comfortably, placing his ass in the hollow the druid’s crossed limbs made and tossing his legs on either side of Halsin’s hips. 

Without a seduction attempt to focus on, the vampire's expression was far more open than he likely thought. Wariness, fading adrenaline, curiosity. 

“Ask your question, or questions. I know neither of us have anything pressing to get back to in camp, and I’m sure you're just dying to indulge your burning desire for conversation with me. I am quite the interesting individual after all.”

Such layered false arrogance. It was impressive, the stacked verbal protections the vampire wove around himself. The disguise worked wonders, and likely would fool nearly anyone at first glance. 

“What is your favorite book?”

Two blinks. He had surprised the elf again. It was the one activity that Halsin had seen Astarion partake in without fail every single day since he had not quite joined the camp proper. Nearly every time he was called upon to leave with Lokris, he came back with a new book. There was a small stack beside his bedroll that rotated every night. 

“I….don’t have one. I haven’t read enough to be able to choose.”

Honesty. Halsin nodded along with the words, and his expression must have given away his satisfaction because the pink flush of what might have been shame, or anger returned to the vampire's cheeks as he realized that the druid had gotten what he wanted. 

“Well, when you choose a favorite I wouldn’t mind hearing about the reasons why you picked it.” 

“Is that really the extent of this? You're truly satisfied with just that?” 

The accusation; the undiluted confusion was so thick in Astarion’s voice that it nearly dripped off each syllable. His red eyes were narrowed, his body language curling into itself as his shoulders hunched. Halsin reached out, carefully pinching the vampire's chin between his thumb and first finger to halt any further words. A stillness crept over the spawn that spoke louder than any carefully rehearsed speech as the druid considered his answer. 

“Yes. I am satisfied. As for the future, if you wish to approach me for a bit of physical fun that isn’t tied to a deal between us I would consider it. Not as payment, not because you think it’s what you need to do to settle a debt. If you want it. If You want it. And if you lie to me when I ask…then nothing will happen between us.” 

It was a bit like looking at a light blinded deer. Halsin gently released his grip on the vampire's chin, and his ear twitched as he heard the telltale signs of Lokris and the others returning to their camp for the day. Astarion heard as well, his eyes flicked in the direction they had come from before landing back on the druid. 

“It would seem our companions have arrived. Why don’t we go and join them?” 

A slow nod, and Halsin lifted the other elf from his lap with just as much ease as he had before. Setting Astarion on his feet, he slipped back on his removed bracer to cover the healing bite; dusted his pants off from any debris and started back down the trail without a moment of hesitation. As he gave the other predator his back, something shifted between them. A layer of the carefully constructed wall crumbled, and the light of the newly lit fire as the sun began to set behind the tree tops beckoned them forward. 

End Ch1 Act 1

[senbons]

A pic of your tits of course! Haha nope, kidding. Give me a little excerpt. The most gutwrenching one! I want sweet torture 😭

Lolol

It's definitely not the most gut-wrenching (and as spoiler free as I can find) but it's definitely not a fun feeling in the gut!!!

[pokemonxhyperfixation]

I should watch more Joel Vinesauce

Peak album peak album peak album

[bugbugboy]

Almost midnight doodles, Mr @neil-gaiman ft. his Curls

"The one thing that you have that nobody else has is you. Your voice, your mind, your story, your vision. So write and draw and build and play and dance and live as only you can"

[measuresderepo]

Walkie talkie’s kind of a silly word. I wish we called all military technology silly names.

[twig-the-edgelord]

Am still not doing ok so expect more clothes for Clem

[trenchcoatsbi]

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODYYYY!!! :DDD I mean like is not new year yetz but its crazy to think how its goinh to be 2024 next!!

As a side note I think I'm kinsidering a roleswap au phoenix wright and also trucy wright but like a lot of charscters they are still in kinsidering limbo lol

Tbh I feel there is a kin patter with me usually being kin with characters that are silly or like cheerful, or some kind of performer :ooo

Anyways hi yall!!

-(cannon divergent llulah anon)⭑

‘appy new years!! Can’t believe nother year has passed, like geez at this rate I’ll be a skeleton in no time (/j). anywho have fun with those kinsiders! I’m here sitting trying to decide if biting the bullet and kinfirming a character is worth it just to make a “new year, new me” joke in my group chat… This is year 3? Year 4? of me bein aware of me being fictionkin and that joke rattles around in my head every time new years comes around. I’d say t’s awful but it just gets funnier to me every year so yeah lol gonna be pondering that for today

[royalbilliards]

I think if we all remembered Maruki likes appy juice. That’s all <3

[seokmattchuus]

I love when I hit a wall and the voices tell me to scrap the whole fic :))

[xeeljii]

I need joost whimpering into my neck so bad its not even funny anymore IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE (touching grass rn thanks)

can i write a little something .... ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

WARNING! Explicit RPF! 

CW: 18+, f! reader, dry humping sorry im in my dry humping era, drunk! Joost, established relationship, needy so needy Joost.

Late at night the window to your shared apartment is still open letting a little breeze in, it is the middle of summer and you are just laying on the living room couch watching TV ready for bed when you finally hear the ring of the doorbell. Joost had been gone since the midday with his friends and now so late you guessed he must have had a good day if he wasn't even able to use his keys.

You get up, turn the TV off and open the door with a soft smile on your lips, he is hanging between Appie and Stunje, red to the tip of his ears and so obviously drunk. His eyes are closed, his face is hanging low, he looks like a rag doll as both his friends hold him trying to keep him from falling, you laugh slightly at the sight.

"Thanks for bringing him home." You say voice low to not wake him but as soon as the words leave your mouth he raises like coming back to life at the sweet familiar sound of you.

He opens his eyes quickly, pupils unfocused and hair all tousled on his forehead. He smiles brightly his whole face lighting up and the so beloved dimples appearing.

"Liefde!" He all but screams as he lets go of the shoulders of his friends and throws himself all over you.

He is never mindful of his size even less so when he is drunk, he rests all his weight on you and you do everything to hold him and not fall backwards. You place a hand securely on his back as he rubs his face against your neck, he bends down in an awkward position to sniff at your perfume. You feel yourself blush quickly when he starts placing kisses on the exposed skin still very aware of the presence of his friends who break in laughter when they realize what he is doing.

But he doesn't care, he can't care when you smell so nice and feel so good and soft under his hands.

"I'm so sorry." You say mortified, they just continue laughing before Appie speaks.

"This one kept whining about missing you at the bar then when we got in the taxi he kept trying to call you but couldn't figure out how to unlock his phone so he threw a fit." You can see the image so clear in your mind it is so embarrassing and so adorable all at the same time.

"You are his screensaver you knew that right?" You blush deeply, you didn't know, but it is not surprising Joost is practically bordering on obsessed with you.

Joost is holding you tightly and shamelessly planting kisses on your warm skin completely ignoring the conversation happening right in front of him, then he gets bolder and starts sneaking his hand right under your sleeping camisole. You wince.

"Okay we are leaving." Stunje says saving you any further embarrassment you throw him an apologetic smile and a thank you before everyone says their goodbyes and leaves.

When the door is finally closed you can breath a little easier, you pull hard at Joost's shirt trying to peel him off you.

"You are such a handful." You say, so much love dripping from your tone it comes out with no bite.

"I missed you~" He whines into you stretching the last syllable.

"I can see." You start pulling him towards the bed room, he stays pressed close to you not allowing you to leave his embrace even by an inch.

When you get to the bed he finally releases you a bit but only to push you down onto the mattress, you fall with a soft thud in the middle.

"Hey!" You chide.

"I missed my baby." He says with furrowed eyebrows standing over you, he is so whiny when he is drunk, he is so clingy and so needy.

"Just take your clothes off and come to bed." You say rolling your eyes, you do have work early and whatever he is trying to get at can't happen.

He quickly does as he is told and starts crawling on top of you only on his boxers.

"I have work in the morning." You remind him softly before he gets ahead of himself.

"I know." He mumbles, cute little pout adorning his puffy lips. But knowing doesn't stop him from much and he makes himself a little place between your legs wrapping the muscle around his hips before he lets himself fall right on top of you.

"You can't sleep like that, you are crushing me." You pull lightly at his hair to get him to move but he doesn't and you already know that he won't.

"I really missed you." He says in that airy breathy tone that has you dampening in your panties.

He reaches a hand over your camisole stopping over your breast, his head is pressed right against the crook of your neck. He starts softly massaging at the mound of fat over the fabric and you can't help but sigh at his touch. He is kissing at the sensitive skin over your pulse and licking intently to pull more sounds from you.

"Joost." You whine unsure if you are asking for more or chiding him again, but he just likes the way you say his name so it only spurs him on.

He feels the nipple harden against the soft fabric and wants to touch directly so bad, he pulls his hand away before moving it to the hem of your shirt and pulling it up all over your breasts. At that he finally pulls slightly away from you just so he can admire at your beautiful forms, without even touching him he is already twitching in his boxers and a dark wet spot forms at the fabric of his underwear.

"So pretty." He says before he bends down chasing back after your warmth again.

He goes straight for your nipple wraps his lips around the sensitive skin and starts sucking as much of you into his mouth as he can, his other hand massages at your chest. His hips start moving against yours, he is grinding hard against your pelvis, moaning agains your tit on his mouth and groping hard at the other one with his big warm palm. You involuntarily start grinding back, back slowly rising from the mattress to match his pace.

You feel him so hard against your core, his length pushing right against the fabric of your shorts, he is breathing so heavy against your chest nose buried against your skin moaning as he sucks on you. He keeps rubbing himself on you, harder, faster, he is going to crush you, you really feel his whole weight on you as he wildly uses your smaller frame to get off. You feel him twitching even between the layers of fabric still separating you, you already know his body so well.

He pulls away from your nipple, grabs with both hands at your waist moving you harder against his body, you feel his hips start to stutter, he bends down again and searches for your neck, he is panting and leaving wild kisses and love bites everywhere he can reach, he can't help himself he needs to mark you so bad right now, alcohol high on his bloodstream he forgets any reservation.

"Let me come." He says in a whisper accentuated by a hard thrust.

"Can I come baby?" He asks sweetly as he licks under your ear.

"Please" He whines against the sensitive skin of your neck, you feel his deep voice sending waves directly to your cunt, you are so wet, your clit is so hard and throbbing at his words alone.

"Please touch me." He whimpers right against your hair.

"Please touch my dick." He is begging now, so close, just needs a little help, just needs the smallest touch from his sweet kind girlfriend to get off.

And who are you to deny him?

So you move a hand low between the two of you, reach inside his boxers, you don't even bother pulling them down and just stroke him hard and fast, your hand clenching around him tightly just how he likes it and twisting around the tip. Just within a few movements he is coming, on your hand, on his underwear, on your pajamas. Long white stripes dirtying everything with delicious heat.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." He continues mewling against your throat as he weakly thrust against your palm with the last waves of his climax.

He pulls enough strength to kiss your lips messily before he finally collapses onto you with a deep content sigh.

You still feel yourself throbbing inside your shorts but before you realize it he is already fallen deep asleep holding softly at your tit with a big warm hand. Sleeping so peacefully like an angel, like he didn't just use you to get off. You roll your eyes with so much fondness.

"You really are a handful." You say almost in disbelief kissing at his cheek as his face rests pressed on your neck breathing softly.

You pull your hand away and wipe it on the duvet. He is going to have to wash that tomorrow, and your pajamas and his boxers, it is his fault it all got dirty. And he will probably wake you up with head as an apology for leaving you high and dry and you will most likely not make it to work on time because he won't be happy with making you come just one time, no, for the grieve offense of not making you finish he will want to pull as many orgasms from you as he can before you are begging for him to let go, all overstimulated and pretty on his mouth. But all of those are problems for tomorrow you, so you just wrap your arms around him and pull him closer before his comforting weight over your body on you drags you to sleep.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

A/N: idk where this came from idk lol not proof read etc

ps. this is not THE DRY HUMPING fic this is just me being insane

[oraclekleins]

hello, can you write Joost Klein x musician!reader where Joost and reader met at a mutual friend's party and they hit it off? And they start to develop feelings after a while of being friends!!!

thank you for the request, anon!

Good Luck, Babe!

Joost Klein/Musician!Reader

Fluff, Crushes, 1983 era Joost :-) + Reader is BFFs with Appie!

In the warm summer air, you embrace the night; sprawling out your fingers to trace the stars. The soft glow of string lights from above illuminate the beer you’re nursing in your hands, a dull chill spreading through your palms. You listen to the sound of your own breath in the silence, aside from the soft hum of fire from the pit in front of you, slow and a little raspy. The door to Apson’s house swings open and then closes. It was nice of Appie to invite you in the first place - you never could thank him enough for trying to involve you in his friend group. Usually, you’d politely decline the invitation, not quite having made it past the step of hyping yourself up in the mirror, promising it’d be a good night.

You remind yourself that this was practice for the stage. How were you supposed to perform if you couldn’t even manage to go to one of your best friend’s parties? Grimacing at the thought, you roll your shoulders, a sigh passing from your lips. Apson was the first one to have given your music a chance, having been sat on your bed as you wrote your lyrics, pushing your journal towards him after each edit. He would hum any sort of tune to catch your words, give you some sort of inspiration. It’s easy to be around him, it just feels right ; which happens to make the fear of making a good impression around his friends much worse.

A hand finds your shoulder, heavy and welcoming. You can smell his cologne before he speaks, saccharine and earthy. “Need to go get another case of beer, you coming with?” Apson grins, already tugging you along.

“Of course, yeah,” you’re starting to reply, nearly tripping down the porch steps, your arm catching another body in its stagger for balance. 

His face is a bit mousey, grin curious and friendly. “Careful!” He teases, trailing after Apson. He glances back to you - like he’s making sure you’re following, a bit hesitant. You’re well aware of who he is, having seen hundreds of pictures of him and Appie together, flicking through their stories in a muted envy. Joost .

Appie releases you from his grip once you’re tugging at the passenger side door, Joost trailing after you. “Long time no see,” he says, sugary and faint, dying out into a giggle. 

You climb into the car. He’s fumbling between buckling his seatbelt and throwing Appie’s collection of mess from the backseat into the trunk. 

“You were at Appie’s birthday party, right?” You reply, fidgeting with your hands, beer long abandoned on the side of Apson’s porch. 

Joost looks towards you. “Yeaahh,” he drags out the ah , dramatically. You can tell that he’s doing it to make you laugh, searching for your smile after. “I remember you. The singer!” The singer. You can't help but wonder how much you told him, 6 shots deep and in desperation to look like a good, talented friend. The label makes you a little sick, but you nod.

“You as well? I think I saw your album on Instagram - it was good, really good,” the fabric of your shirt is sticking to your chest, cotton-stiff and uncomfortable. You turn to roll down the window, the still heat wavering in the backseat. 

“Appie! AC?” You whine a bit, tapping at the driver’s seat.

Apson pauses from sticking his keys into the ignition, glaring at you through the mirror. "Roll down the window! I gotta start the car, man."

You sigh, giving up as your back hits the carseat.

Joost glances over again, fiddling with his phone case. "Really cool you saw my stuff. Now I gotta hear yours, okay?" He offers you an earbud, wire already stuck into his phone.

You feel a little nauseous.

ᯓ★

It hadn't taken long for you and Joost to connect after the party. Embarrassingly enough, when you had gotten his follow request, days passed before you finally accepted it and sent a message. It became a lot easier to speak with him, bonding over being independent artists.

Of course, every glimpse of him on your feed had snuck into your dreams, slipping through them like the moonlight in your window. You're startled awake, chest heaving from the thought of his face. Fingers threading through his blonde strands, tangling them and curling them around your knuckle. The thought feels like praying, knelt at the altar, eager for your next glimpse.

You wondered if he knew.

"You're an up and coming, for serious," he would blurt out after every sneak of music you showed him. The endless praise for your work cycled into daily conversation, asking to see what you were working on- or if he could help with anything.

You couldn't help but wonder how long this dance between you two would go, when every touch became an apology for being too shy. When you could lace your fingers with his, joking about the size of your hands, yet too nervous to nestle your face into the crook of his neck.

You feel homesick when his arm isn't wrapped around your shoulder, peeking over your phone to see what you're doing rather than talking to him. He always knows how to make you look up, smile, giddy just to get a reaction.

When he confesses his 'silly', unripe feelings - it feels like the sky itself had opened up and sang for you.

[falling-through-a-trapdoor]

So I’ve been reading May We Be Spared to Meet on Earth (highly recommend) and here are some of the things I’ve learned about James Fitzjames from his letters that make me kinda emotional:

He had two Godchildren: William and Elizabeth Coningham’s son, William, and Edward Charlewood’s daughter.

He made really bad jokes/puns in his letters. My favorite being “This will show you that we are really like a man shaving; So-appy!” when describing to his sister-in-law his and the crew’s high spirits.

The man like never slept. He was usually up writing at midnight and often describes being up at around 3 in the morning. He says “When I do sleep, I do twice as much as other people in the same time.”

He kept a portrait of his brother, William Coningham, in his cabin and sometimes said goodnight to it.

[floylia]

# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾

06. Do you like your men sarcastic?

NOTES:

i’m not sick anymore (kind of), just sick of my calc class

could’ve named this “good with my fingers” but i held back, yw

SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.

When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back.

CHILDE x FEM!READER

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