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[markedcardsusa]

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[chaieyestea]

IKEA Lattjo playing cards (2014)

Taglist: @multi-lefaiye @tardigradecryptid @anexor

[tangerinesilk]

－ DISTRACTION : DAVE LIZEWSKI

dave was a great study buddy, but there's no doubt he was a distraction. he constantly made you turn your head twice at whatever he said or did whether it was some comic book character he rambled about or how his pale blue eyes shined under the warm lighting of his desk lamp.

pairing ✷ college!dave lizewski x college!fem!reader

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

tropes ✷ friends with benefits, spicy but no / little plot, unspoken love, domestic toward eachother but no dating, dorky and awkward people in love who just wont admit it theyre in love (sort of) | nsfw warnings below!

word count ✷ 1.7k

a/n ✷ um this was a random thought and it just sort of happened. stg it feels like i blacked out while writing this KSKFFKS what is going on with me. anyways been wanting to write about this cute dork for a while and why not make it really hot. posting now so i dont chicken out but ill edit later.... i always love feedback! xo

[ steamy warnings: mentions of public sex, dom & sub switches, p in v without protection, nipple play, hj + bj, f receiving oral from m, praising + heavy dirty talk, face sitting, finishing inside v ]

typical weekends: saturday night at dave's apartment.

dave was explaining something... it was something. something important, but all you could focus on was his pretty eyes and how soft his lips looked today. he pushed his glasses up more on his nose bridge again, looking down at his book for one of his college classes.

he was so into the subject, you didn't even have to nod. you were occasionally tapping the eraser end of your pencil against your blank notebook, only listening to every other word.

suddenly, your mind wanders to when you two were doing laundry at three in the morning and got a little spontaneous. then getting a bit handsy on the top floor of the library where no one usually was. maybe even the time when you were visiting him back home for one weekend and you both could barely keep it together with company downstairs.

ever since you both agreed on this friends with benefits agreement, your dry spells were no longer an issue. it seemed like both of you were touched starved, but not wanting to meet other people, strangers you didnt want or need to know.

so, after becoming lab partners in your fall semester of senior year, its been nonstop seeing each other. not just for sex, but hanging out to study, going to local comic book stores and libraries, even the occasional dinner and sleepover combo at his apartment or yours.

it seemed like a wild card at first, but you would never admit (outloud) to dave lizewski that you underestimated how great his tongue felt inside your pus—

"y/n, are you even listening?"

you cleared your throat, "hmm?"

he chuckled, "so you weren't... i know, its kind of boring."

now you felt bad, caught up from going down memory lane and he was excited about his new class.

you ran your hand over his curls, "im sorry, dave. my mind was wandering."

he turned, seeming interested, "about what?"

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, "about... you know..." you trailed then shrugged, "stuff."

dave smiled, "oh yeah? you weren't, i dont know, thinking about me?"

you had seen this confidence grow inside dave as more time passed, and you weren't sure if it was cockiness, but you couldn't deny how cute yet attractive it was on him.

"why dont you go back to what you were rambling about? please. im all ears now." you lean in, placing your hands underneath your chin with your elbows on his desk.

its ironic how his full size bed was behind the two of you yet here you are, acting like this was the first time you've hung out.

he pressed wet kisses against your inner thighs, your clit aching for his mouth as his nose brushed against your skin. he'd let out a nervous chuckle as he noticed the wet spot forming on the center of your panties. you'd bite your bottom lip as he licked his lips, in awe of the mess you were for him.

dave pulled down your panties, shuffling them down your ankles before tossing them to the side. his strong hands run up the top of your thighs before holding your hips, pulling your core closing to his mouth. after his first, yet hesitant, kiss on your clit, you let out a faint moan.

soon his tongue was running over your open slit and tasting your sweet wetness. you arched your back, leaning back on his desk as he flicked your clit a few times. when he pushes his tongue inside you, a rush of heat runs over your entire body. you caress your own breasts and pull at your own nipples as he picks up his pace.

"fuck... god, yes. eat my fucking pussy." you whimpered. he got so weak when you uttered your sweet nothings. as dominant as he thought he presented himself, dave was a sucker for you.

just when you thought it couldn't get better, he slide his two fingers into your slit as his tongue flicks your swollen clit. you told him how you love when he curled his fingers inside you, knuckle deep and gathering your wetness every pump as he brought you closer to your orgasm.

your hips grind against his mouth and hand, painfully near your climax. he cursed under his breath as he felt your pussy clench around his digits. he pulls his mouth away from your clit, trailing more kisses over your stomach then rolls his tongue against your right nipple.

his hand still worked your slit, thrusting so fast that your head was spinning along with the pleasure of him sucking your erect nipple. you glanced down, seeing how his hard pressed against his khakis. just the thought of taking his cock into your mouth made you dizzy, bucking your hips against his fingers.

"yes... make me cum. i wanna fucking cum on your fingers." you muttered under your breath, pulling at his curls. dave's knees were giving out as he held his position but he loved to hear your continous begging.

he was about to see if he could pick up his pace before your hand reached down, sliding into the front of his stained pants and caressing his hard cock. he grunted against your chest, instantly weak from your touch which made him pause.

"hmm, what about i cum on your cock instead?" you giggled as your lips met his, "it's so hard... bet you've been thinking about cumming inside my tight pussy, huh, dave?"

he sighed, "shit..."

"that's what i thought, baby." you say before taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting your own cum. he takes a mental picture even though you've done this in your previous hookups.

you hop off the desk, playfully pushing him on his twin size bed. you slowly get on your knees, running your hand over the crotch of his pants that were already unbuttoned and half unzipped. it's easy for your pull his cock out, practically springing from his briefs.

his eyes are glued to you as your tongue runs up and down the base before wrapping your lips against his red tip. you half-giggle when you taste his pre-cum, then carefully take him all in your mouth. you gag a bit as his tip pushes further in, and he groans when your throat tightens around him.

you push your tongue out to make sure your teeth dont graze his cock as you deep throat him, incredibly slow, so he can watch in awe. he leans up on his elbows, falling apart as you take him in your mouth so easily and your hand pumping the rest of his base.

"fucking christ... fuck." he muttered, his dick twitching inside your mouth as your salvia runs down when you gag on his hard.

his hand runs over your hair, gathering it together to keep it out of your face— also to have a better view of him receiving one of the best blowjobs you've given him.

when you pull your mouth away, you giggle as you pump his cock with your spit lubricating for better motion. his face screws together the faster you pump, and he can barely take the pleasure.

"hmm, i bet you wanna cum on my face... and tits. but, i want you to cum inside me." you say as you but your bottom lip, running your thumb over the cum leaking from his tip.

"me too, baby. fuck!" he grunts, and it makes you smile at how much of a mess he is too.

you rise from your knees, relieving the pressure on them before straddling him on his bed. you pull off your top, tossing it on the other side of the room as he quickly peels his shirt off as well. his big hands run up your body, over your breasts once more as his thumbs move against your nipples.

"god, i want to feel every inch of your cock... so, don't stop until you're finished." you tell him as you run his tip agaisnt your slit before slowly sinking down on him.

"babe, shit... fuck." he whimpered, his fingers pressing into your hips as you arch your back.

"god, im so tight." you moan, "your cock is so big... can barely fit you inside me." you huff, your eyes closed shut as you slowly move your hips.

soon, you meet a nice pace of bouncing on his cock and he loosens up as he watches you move up and down. his bright eyes keep moving between looking at your tits and your face, completely amazed by your beauty.

you run your hands over his toned chest and abdomen, leaving light scratches on his skin from the waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body.

"dave, im gonna cum. oh, oh! i'm gonna cum." you announced to him and he was holding off anyways, his jaw clenched his much that it was beginning to feel painful.

as you arch your back and let out a long whine, he stills his hips as his warm cum fills you up. it was the first time he was fully inside you, and you were aching around his cock, feeling it throbbing against your walls.

he leans up, leaving a soft kiss just above your breasts before you two share another kiss. you can't help but giggle, both of you feeling that sudden hit of exhaustion.

you lift yourself from your cock and cum runs down your slit, letting him see the mess he made. dave smirks, expecting him to say that he'll get you a towel but instead licks his lips and starts to lean down between your legs again.

it was like deja vu. his tongue presses against your swollen slit, tasting your mixed cum before sucking on your sore clit. now you're so sensitive to the touch, you could orgasm again at any moment. he was so in tune with your body that he knew what pace to go and how long you could actually lasts.

you run your hands over your breasts, his tongue moving so perfectly between your slit and clit. you feel his press a light kiss against the area above your pussy before trailing more kisses up your body. then, you two shared another kiss, tasting each other's tongues once more before he laid next to you.

"you know, i've never had a study partner like you." you jeered, pressed a kiss against the start of his jaw.

he blushed, "me neither..." he raised his eyebrows, "trust me."

[rangerbarbz]

Mail Call

Here is my first Stan fluff because my mans deserves some love. Let me know what y'all think and thank you so much for all the support. I love you forever babes <3 (I didn't look over this so i apologize if there's any grammatical errors or typos)

“Mail Call”

You worked for the Post Office at Gravity Falls, Oregon, and you absolutely loved it. It was a relatively easy gig that had great benefits. Plus, you got to meet some “interesting” people to say the least. One of those people was the owner of the Mystery Shack himself, Stan Pines. 

You delivered mail to the Mystery Shack every day but Sunday, so you saw him quite a bit. The first time you met him, he happened to be outside with a young boy and girl who you assumed were his grandchildren. You parked your mail truck beside the mail box and reached behind you for a package addressed to 618 Gopher Road. 

Your presence caught the attention of the young girl who began running over to you. The older man was right behind her with an unhappy expression on his face. “Good afternoon! Is this for you, sweetie?” you asked the girl. She was beaming at you with a glimmer in her eyes. 

“Yup! Thank you mail lady!” She snatched the package excitedly from you and started to turn around, but was blocked by the older man who now had his arms crossed. 

“What is that and how did you pay for it?” he asked, scrunching his eyebrows together. You were surprised by the depth and raspiness of his voice. It was quite attractive, if you were being honest. 

“It’s pig shaped cookie cutters for my new baking show I’m filming with Waddles, and I paid for it with your credit card. Okay, bye!” she said all in one breath. Before he could even respond, she was bolting around him to get inside the house. The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Is she your granddaughter?” you asked. He looked at you like he had forgotten you had been standing there. 

“Ah no. Mabel’s actually my grand niece” He chuckled. “Good kid when she’s not spending my money.” 

You laughed and glanced up at the broken sign above you two. “I’ve actually never been here before. You work here?” 

He scoffed. “Work here? I own this place, toots. I’m Mister Mystery himself.” He was grinning from ear to ear. You held your hands up in defense.

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a celebrity,” you replied jokingly. He laughed in return.

“Name’s Stan Pines.” He held out his hand towards you. You smiled and reached out towards him. The size difference between you two was made even more obvious when you wrapped your hand around his to shake it. You introduced yourself to him, but he raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer to you. You realized that he had not heard you and repeated yourself. 

“Huh. Pretty name,” Stan said, releasing his gentle grip. You let your hand fall to your side and began to play with a stray thread from the seaming of your work pants. Was he making you nervous?

“Thank you, Stan. Yours too.” He laughed once again and gazed down at his shoes. You suddenly heard a fire alarm blaring from an open window followed by black smoke.

Stan groaned. “I better go see what the hell that kid’s doing. I, uh. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Hopefully with no more packages that is.”

You giggled. “I cannot guarantee any more packages, but I will 100% be seeing you tomorrow.” 

He winked at you. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” You felt your cheeks grow hot as you gave him a little wave goodbye and entered your mail truck. He was giving you a toothy grin and waving back at you. What you didn’t see was him wiping the sweat from his brow and palms. Very few people made Stan Pines nervous, and you had become one of them. 

The next few weeks, you continued flirting back and forth with each other. It became the highlight of your day when you stopped at his mailbox to already see him standing there. He always asked you how your day was before telling you some outrageous story. Some days it was about a kooky visitor at the Mystery Shack while others it was You enjoyed listening to his gravelly voice and watching his borderline theatrical gestures as he spoke. 

He was undeniably sexy for a man his age. His glasses accentuated his strong jaw, and his thick ashy hair was to die for. You also found his blunt personality and his confidence to be alluring. You only ever saw him in his Mr. Mystery suit, but you weren’t complaining. It helped show off those muscles from his boxing days, and he always looked so sophisticated.

One day when you drove your usual route around Gravity Falls and stopped at the shack, he wasn’t there. You frowned and looked around to see if maybe he was walking up to you. Alas, you couldn’t find him. You put his electric bill in his mailbox and left wondering where he could be. 

You eventually returned to the post office after tapping anxiously on your steering wheel the entire time driving back. You stepped out of your mail truck and walked into the office to begin sorting packages. 

The bell above the door jingled meaning someone had walked in. “Hello, welcome to the Gravity Falls Post- Stan?” You had turned around to see him standing sheepishly in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. He was missing his fez and you got to see his thick gray hair. In his hands, he was holding an envelope decorated with shiny, brightly-colored stickers.

A slight blush started to spread across his face. “Hey, Doll. Sorry I didn’t see ya earlier today. I was working on this letter.” His eyes wouldn’t meet you. This wasn’t the suave man you usually spoke to. 

You grinned. “Stanley, you know you could’ve just put that in the mailbox, and then I would’ve come to get it, right?” He snorted and shook his head.

“Yes, smartass, I am aware.” He approached the counter that you were standing behind. “I came here because this letter is for you.” You could feel your face heat up as he handed you the sparkly envelope still not looking at you. 

“You… You wrote me a letter? Why?” you asked, running your fingers over the pink letters that spelled your name. Stan then turned his head to you and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“Look, I, uh,” he paused, “I like you. Our talks make me… happy. And… Oh just read the damn letter! That’s why I wrote it anyway. I’m no good at these things.” He crossed arms in frustration. He scoffed. “If you don’t feel the same, that's fine. I mean who would? Especially-”

“Stan!” you interjected. His eyes met yours. You gave him a reassuring smile. “I like you, too. Like a lot. Between the looks and personality, it was impossible not to fall.” You couldn’t believe you just said that last part out loud. Hopefully you didn’t scare him off. 

Stan gave you a toothy smile and rubbed the back of his neck. His face was beet red. Frankly, it was very satisfying to see him so flustered. “Well, thank you, Doll. You’re a babe, too. Inside and out.” 

You giggled at his strange way of complimenting you. “Thank you, Stan. You’re a sweetheart. I can’t wait to read this letter on company time.” 

Stan laughed. “That’s my girl,” he said as he began walking out the door. He opened it and before he left he said, “You should come over after your shift is done. I know Mabel is dying to hear what you thought of her handiwork there.” 

“I’ll be there.” 

“Good. I’ll see you then, Doll.” He gave you a slight wave and shut the door behind him. You could hear the sound of him yelling “YES!” from the other side. As soon as he peeled off in his Diablo, you carefully opened the envelope to reveal a piece of notebook paper with just as many stickers. It said in the same pink ink your name was written:

Dear Y/N,

I hope you don’t think I’m some dork for writing you a letter instead of telling you face to face how I feel about you. I’m a little rusty in the romance department. I wanted to tell you that I always look forward to our talks. I never thought I would crush on someone who delivers me bills and tax forms. What are the odds?

You make me feel young again. I like how you cut up with me and how you don’t treat me like some old man. I like how kind you are to the kids and how you make my pacemaker work extra hard. I really hope you will come around more often. I also wanted to invite you on a date this Saturday night out of town. I’ll pick you up. You do enough driving. Plus, only tools don’t pick up their date. 

Love, 

Stanley Pines

P.S. I think you’re cute in your work uniform despite what you think. 

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 8 (Steddie X Plus Size You)

Warnings: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, dp, skinny dipping, FLUFF, they love each other. They get to hang out with the readers best friend so she's protective <3

ANGST, not much (I know, weird! Lol), Boys hang out with reader and her bestie so she does quiz them a lot. Eddie talks about missing Wayne and gives reader more insight into his parents, Steve does that same.

Word Count: 4862

Series here/ Donate to Me <3

“Look, I’ve been her best friend since middle school so I’m not going to be as easy to suck up to as her parents.”, Mya announced making you smile beside her as you four continued to eat. 

“Pfft, that was easy?”, Steve asked playfully as he stuck a fry into his mouth. 

It had been a few days since the guys had shown up and in a couple more you would have to get ready to fly back home to get prepared for the new semester. The new year flew by with little to no fanfare and both men doubled down on your post by taking pictures with you and posting them on their socials. 

Their lawyers weren’t exactly thrilled stating they thought both men should lay low but they didn’t care. They wanted the whole world to know how much they loved you as a person and not because of what their ex was saying. Beside that one post you made, you still stayed away from your phone for fear of what you may read. You weren’t ready to handle any of that at a constant basis nor did you have any idea how you would handle it when you went to work but you decided you’d cross that bridge when you got there. 

Since he was the most recognizable, Eddie had his hair up and behind a cap as he ate but a few tendrils fell around his face almost dipping into the sauce of his plate before you reached over and moved it behind his ear. 

“Thank you, babe.”, he garbled with a full mouth making his friend roll his eyes as you giggled. 

“So what’s the plan for today?”

“Mya and I were thinking we could go to the little carnival down the way here. It’s an annual thing that we used to go to all the time growing up.”, you beam as your best friend leans on your shoulder. 

“That sounds like fun.”, the mogul smiles as he digs into his wallet and places his credit card next to the bill that the waiter hastily comes to pick up. 

“I can pay for my meals, Steven.”

“I know, Mya. Think of it as a Christmas gift since I wasn’t able to bring you anything.” Quirking his eyebrow towards her, she smirks in amusement before giving in and nodding her head. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Munson.”, a little voice shyly asks as a small boy appears at the rockstar’s side. “May I have your sign?”, he continues, holding up his hand in a waving motion to signal he wants an autograph. 

“Yeah, buddy, uh…”, Eddie’s eyes scan around the table, thanking you when you reach into your bag to grab a pen. “What’s your name?”

“Wayne.”

Eddie blinks and you see his smile falter for a moment before it widens again as he signs the paper the little boy handed him. 

“You know, that’s my uncle’s name. He taught me to play guitar when I was a bit older than you. Can you play guitar to?” The child shakes his head and the man laughs. “You have to learn, little dude. Maybe one day you’ll be on stage with me when I’m old and gray.”

The boy laughs as he thanks him and runs off towards his parents who silently thank him with a wave. 

“That was cute…Did you hire him?”

“Yup. You caught me, Mya. That’s actually my illegitimate son and those people posing as his parents are from my entourage.”, he replies with snark without missing a beat. 

Your best friend glances your way as you beam up at her with a “told you so” grin on your face that makes her own smile widen.

“Point one goes to you gentlemen. Let’s go have some fun.”

***

You giggle as Eddie tries to “root” for his friend as Steve and Mya go head-to-head shooting basketballs into the basket in front of them. 

“Come on, man. You were MVP in high school. She’s kicking your ass.”

“You’re not helping, asshole.”, the mogul breathily laughs.

The buzzer beeps loudly and his head falls as your best friend claps, raising her hands high in the air in victory. 

“I’m ashamed of you.”, the rockstar sighs jokingly before laughing when Steve pushes his arm. 

After extending his palm as an olive branch, Mya shakes it with big smile on her face. 

“I feel like together we could be stronger, My. What say we kick their ass in bumper cars?”

“Sounds like a plan, Steven.”

Throughout the evening, your best friend had not only been listening to the guys but watching how they treated you, taking in every little thing they did. When you went to lunch not only did they pull out your chair but hers. While walking up to the carnival area, they made sure to be on the side nearer the street for you both and always ran ahead to open any door that needed to be opened. Their physical mannerisms seemed to display a radiance of protective energy. When they weren’t attentively listening to the stories you both were telling, their eyes were scanning the area to make sure everything was alright. 

Even now, she watched as Eddie held your hand to help you into the bumper and then once you were seated he helped buckle you in before making you laugh as he pretended to speed off as the car remained still. 

“Munson is going to be ruthless I hope you know.”, Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside Mya.

“I can buckle my own seatbelt, Steven.”

“I would hope so.”, he grins after clicking the strap and leaning back as he waits for the ride to start. 

“So can she.”

The mogul’s face straightened as he turned to meet her eyes that were scanning his features. He understood what she meant and you had explained the other night that Mya knew what you were into in your private life. You trusted her with something so personal and he appreciated that. That’s how he felt about Eddie as a friend when it came to things they did. He wouldn’t have entered a shared relationship with him if he didn’t. 

“We know she can. It’s one of the reasons we love her…because she can handle herself. We love her strength and her sassy ass which after meeting you and her parents makes a lot of sense.” Steve smiles when your best friend laughs. 

“After everything happened, I looked you guys up. I tried to tell her things but she insisted she’d rather hear it from you. Obviously she knows about Gina but does she know about your dad? Does she know about the expose he did on you after giving you his company?”

“If she read that she’s never said. Y/N isn’t much of a business person and that was almost 10 years ago.”

“He doesn’t seem to have any real empathy towards you or your mother.”

“What’s your point, Mya?”, he snapped before realizing his tone and sighing. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“No, no. I get it. Trust me, I get it. That’s why I’m so protective over her. Y/N’s family has been there for me through everything and I see her as my sister. Holden took her away from us and everything she knew before breaking her heart. She looks at you two differently than she ever looked at him. She feels safe with you…so if you ever pull that bullshit again I will come after you.”, she warns as she raises her eyebrows and Steve tries to hide his smile. 

“Noted. I promise if that ever happens, which it won’t, we’ll fly down here personally for you to kill us.”

Eddie’s hand reaches for yours as he leans back and waits for the ride to start. 

“She’s definitely grilling him right now.”, the rockstar grins as he gestures with his head towards your friends. 

“Oh, 100%. I’m sorry if she comes off as rough. She’s been through a lot and has a hard exterior but her heart is soft…kind of like you.”, you grin up at him as he chuckles. “I wanted to ask you, um, are you ok after talking to that little boy? You seemed kind of sad after.”

“Yeah, I’m ok. I just miss my uncle sometimes. He’s very much like my father figure, you know, and being in Indiana…I don’t get to see him as much as I want. He, uh, he adores you.”

“Me? Edward Munson have you been talkin’ about me?”, you tease.

“Maybe.”, he grins as he kisses your forehead. “Maybe we could bring you home one weekend or even during the summer so you could meet him and some of our friends. I mean…if you want to…you don’t…have to.”

Your lips tenderly kiss his as you rest your chin on his shoulder. 

“I’d love to.”

The car underneath you suddenly comes to life gradually moving you and everyone around you forward.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s kick their ass.”

***

“Were you nice?”, you ask Mya as you walk her to her front door.

“I was nice enough.”

“So no then?”, you laugh as she smiles. 

“They do seem to care a lot about you and they are genuine which I appreciate. Holden only met with me that one time and I never heard from him again. You think I would have with how long you two were together.” 

“I’m sorry for that…for leaving you…”

“No reason to be sorry, honey. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. I’m always going to be here for you.”

“Everything alright?”, Steve asks after you return to the car. 

“Yeah, I just really missed her.”

You giggle as Eddie crawled over the middle console making his friend playfully huff as he tumbled into the backseat to sit beside you. 

“Maybe sometime soon we can invite her up so she can hang out and see New York.”

You grin as you lean towards him to place a tender kiss on his lips. 

“Can I show you guys something?”

########################

Both men’s eyebrows furrowed when you directed them to a college nearby but even more so when you guided them to a building that was locked. 

“Ok, Eddie, baby. Can you lift me to that window please?”

“No.”, he answered sternly yet with a hint of teasing underneath. 

“Oh, come on, Daddy. I would never do anything to get you in trouble.”, you joke with a smile before Steve finally steps forward and helps lift you into the building. After a couple of minutes, they heard the lock on the other end clink open and were met with your beaming face when you opened the front door, ushing them inside. 

“This is the college I graduated from. We kind of had this club of cool kids who were able to come here and hangout. If the window is unlocked that means no one is here. I locked it after climbing through so it’ll just be us. Apparently students have been doing this for decades.”

“Where are we exactly?”, the rockstar asked as you three continued to walked down the hallway. After entering another room, the smell of chlorine hit them immediately.

They hear what sounds like a button being pressed and suddenly lights within a large pool illuminate the area. 

“Oh, wow.”

Both men watch with fascination and amusement as you remove all your clothes before diving in the water. 

“Are you coming?”

After removing their own garments as well, Steve gradually slid in whereas Eddie followed your lead and jumped in making you giggle as water splashed around you.

“We used to come in here after hours and just swim…talk about the future…maybe have a beer or two.” When you laugh, they laugh with you. “This was such a highly guarded secret and hard to make it into the club to hang out here. I always felt safe here with Mya and my other friends.”

“I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

Their heads turn as their gaze shift towards you, understanding the implications behind those words. Again, you were trusting them with something special to you and opening your heart. They needed to do the same. 

“We didn’t have anything cool like this at my college. I mean obviously we had a pool but…I went to a swanky business school which was my dad’s alma mater and I fucking hated it.”, Steve chuckles. “Ed kept me entertained through those four years, taking me to concerts and movie premieres when he got more popular.”

“Pfft, yeah it took a while. I think our first song started finding steam right when he was about to graduate.”

“When did your dad give you the company?”, you ask.

“It took about a year or so to pry it from him and even then he, uh, he struggled. He did an exposé on me a month after…the journalist asked him if he had faith in my ability. He said and I quote ‘If I had another Harrington to give it to I would but he’ll do fine I’m sure.’”

“Jesus. What an asshole. You showed him though with how far that company has gone.” Swiveling your head towards Eddie, your eyes meet his soft ones. “You didn’t go to college right?”

“Lord, no ma’am. My uncle wanted me to but it all sounded expensive and useless.”, he laughed as he swam closer to wall where you two were floating around. “Believe or not my dad went to college and he still ended up in jail. I just wanted to play my guitar.”

“I love the way you play. Even before I met you.”, you smile his way. “What was your mom like?”

“She, uh, she was kind and loved music. She was unbelievably funny, always making jokes that made me laugh.”, he grinned back at you. “To this day I still don’t understand why she fell for my dad. Probably why I’m terrified of becoming him.”

“You don’t have it in you…neither do you, Steve. With all the stories you’ve told me, you’re nothing like them. I think that’s why you both fell for Gina…because you think you’re capable of it. You attract what you fear sometimes… And just like with her and your fathers, I will kick your ass if you continue to think so negatively about yourselves!”

They chuckle as Steve grabs you and pulls you till your legs are around his waist. You sigh pleasantly as he kisses your forehead before you rest it against his own. 

“She asked to meet with me, your ex.”

His eyes shifted into that protective mode as the mogul blinked and cupped your face in his hands. 

“Stay away from her, Y/N, ok? Unless one of us is with you.”

“I’m not afraid of her—”

“This isn’t about fear, honey. She can do a lot more that physically harm you.”

“So, you can confront my ex but I can’t with yours?”

“You were with us!”, he growled before Eddie patted his forearm, signaling for him to let you go. 

“Do you want to meet with her?”, the rockstar inquired calmly.

As you tilt back against the mogul’s grasp, you shook your head. 

“I know she won’t tell me the truth. I just thought you two should know that she reached out to me personally. I haven’t looked at my phone since that thing I posted so I don’t know if she’s tried again.”

“Ok. Ok, sweetheart. If you change your mind, just let us know. We would prefer to be with you if that’s alright. We wouldn’t need to be in the same room just within the vicinity at least.”

Oh, vicinity.”, you tease trying to lighten the mood again. “Officer Munson kind of has a ring to it.”

“Pfft. Yeah it does. The way I would utilize those handcuffs.”, he groans as he grabs your waist and maneuvers you till your back is against the wall with your arms circled around his neck. 

“Like you don’t have some already.”, you grin. “I’ve, um, never made love in a pool before.”

Eddie blinks as his head playfully ticks to the side. 

“Didn’t we fuck you in a jacuzzi?”

“Oh my god, that does not count. It’s not a pool!”

“It’s an area filled with water.”

“Oh, oh, ok Steve. I’d like to see you swim laps in a jacuzzi!” As you giggle almost uncontrollably, you pull the rockstar into your embrace and hug him tightly to you. When your laughter subsides, your fingers thread through his hair as you feel his nose graze your neck. “I love you, Eddie.”, you whisper, softly smiling when he tilts back to pet your head. 

“I love you to, sweetheart. Fuck, I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that.”, he exhales almost breathlessly before his lips kiss yours. As you reach between your bodies, his eyes close as his head dips back as you gradually run your palm along his cock. 

“You wanna see something?”, Steve murmurs, kissing your cheek when you nod your head. Tugging you lightly away from the wall, the mogul adjusts you so you’re floating on your back with his hand cradling the back of your neck. “I got you, honey. Daddy’s right here.”

Water lightly moves beneath you before you suddenly feel your legs resting on Eddie’s shoulders with his cheeks graze your thighs. His warm breath is an interesting contrast to the slightly cold water you three are floating in and you can’t help but moan as your pussy clenches around nothing. Steve’s mouth attaches to your neck as the rockstar’s tongue flicks against your clit making your eyes roll shut. 

“F-Fuck, that feels so good.”

“I think this is the closest I’ve gotten to you riding my face, princess. That was one of the—God, you smell amazing—first things we talked about, remember?”, Eddie asked in a husky voice as his nose continued to prod at your little bundle of nerves. 

“Yes, Daddy. I remember.” The mogul’s large palm reached over to massage your breast as the tips of his fingers ran along your nipple. “Please… I want to cum.”

“And we just want to play with you, baby.”, Steve smiles as your mouth falls open and Eddie begins devouring your cunt, his hands digging into your hips to hold you against him. “Maybe when we get back home, we can utilize those restraints and just keep you in our bed all day. Can you imagine that? Just…tune out the outside world for 24hrs…and keep you with us for one day to play with.”

As he spoke, his lips trailed kisses down your skin till his tongue found the erect bud on your tit causing a loud moan to leave your mouth as he lightly pulled it with his teeth before swirling his tongue along the sensitive area.

“To play with you whenever we wanted and really get to know your body.”

“I-If…you don’t know…my body by now…I’m worried.”, you breathily laugh, feeling them both smile against your flesh. 

Eddie’s tongue rapidly licked in and out of your core as your fingers roughly clung to Steve’s hair and your back arched. 

“Oh, we know your body, honey, but we want to learn and discover more of you in ways no one else ever has. Things you didn’t even know about yourself.”

Your legs around the rockstars neck trembled as you came. 

Pushing your limbs down and around his waist, Eddie pulled you up till your arms were around his neck and floated with you back towards the edge of the pool. 

“Can I have you both?”

“Yeah, yeah, baby. Let me just…” Keeping a strong hand on your back, he swims with you to stairs nearby and sits high enough so the top of his chest is visible above water. “Your knees aren’t scrapping the asphalt of the steps or anything right?”

“No, Daddy.”, you pant as you kiss his lips and lower yourself onto his length. 

Subtly rocking your hips, you allow your body to get comfortable as you wait for the palm that places itself on your shoulder. 

“Ready, honey?”

“Yes, Daddy. I love you, Steve.”

With a soft smile, his fingers lightly grip your chin to tilt your head and deliver you a tender kiss.

“I love you to, Y/N.” His gorgeous eyes remained locked on yours as he carefully began guiding himself into your ass. “Mmph—no, no, no, baby. Keep those beautiful eyes open for Daddy.”

It was so hard to follow his command as they both slowly started thrusting into you but desperately did everything you could to follow through. You loved watching their faces every time they took care of you. In a sexual realm, their faces would scrunch differently in ways you found utterly fascinating. Steve’s perfect head of hair would fall along his forehead or frame his face as his eyes would roam your body. It was almost calculated which would make sense with the business minded man he was. He would physically take in any little movement, jiggle, or moan and store it in his memory to utilize whatever he did to please you again in the future. As he got closer to his release his jaw would tighten and his eyes would close as he fully succumbed to the feeling of you with grunts and an eagerness that drove you crazy. 

Eddie was all feeling and passion in more ways than one. His hands and lips always wanted to be on you especially when he was inside you. He wanted his senses to be absorbed in everything in the moment. He wanted to see you fall apart, hear you scream his name or title, touch your sweat tripping skin, taste your lips, and feel you shudder around him as you came undone. Sometimes he wanted those things so bad that his brain would almost shut off and he would lose all self-control as he pounded into you not caring if the bed banging against the wall was too loud or both your moans mixed together could wake people in their building. 

When they were taking care of you out in the world, it was more or less the same. Steve would take note of the surroundings to make sure you three were safe anywhere you went. His eyes would follow you when they took you shopping and made mental notes of every item you mentioned or even touched as you absently grazed it with your fingers. You figured out pretty quickly that he learned all your tells for when you were hiding things especially to make them feel more comfortable. 

 “You don’t like this, do you?”, Steve asked while you three were watching tv one Saturday. 

“No! I like this show a lot.”, you defended making him smile at your incessance. 

“Uh huh. You’re doing that thing you do with your hair when you’re zoning out.”

Narrowing your eyes his way, you can’t help but giggle as you sigh. 

“I like the show…I just don’t like the host. He comes off like a huge asshole being mean to these contestants who probably worked really hard to be here.”

“Why didn’t you just say that, baby. We can watch something else and he IS an asshole by the way.”, he jokes.

“You watch stuff you don’t like to make me happy.”, you pout. 

“Says who? Everything you’ve shown us we love.”

“Like RuPaul’s Drag Race.”, Eddie added making you laugh as he started singing the theme. 

Eddie wanted to experience everything with you and did everything he could to keep a smile painted on your lips. Whether it was something small like a joke or a grand gesture like taking you to a concert where he danced and jumped around with you by his side, he savored it. With every hug, kiss, cuddle, or a gentle pet to your head, he felt like he was in heaven and would do anything to make you happy. 

“Hey, um, I’m working on this song and I was wondering if you could tell me what you think.”

“Ok.”, you beam as you take a seat in front of him on the floor near his windows. 

As he softly strummed his fingers along the guitar and his voice filled your ears, you realized the song he was playing was about you. When his eyes met your teary ones, he chuckled as he reached out to caress your cheek. 

“It’s beautiful, Eddie. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s not finished but—”

“But it’s perfect already. Thank you so much.”, you coo as you tackle him and he laughs harder, falling onto his back with you in his arms. 

Eddie’s open mouth kisses against your chest had you mewling as you leaned your cheek on top of his head and your hands clung to the bottom of his neck. Little waves around you seemed to sway you forward and back into them as the pumped their hips a bit faster against you. 

Reaching around, you pressed your palm to the back of Steve’s head, holding him to your shoulder as he warmed your skin with his grunts of pleasure. Trembling between them, you whimpered their title as you came, loosely holding on to them as they chased their highs.

“Jesus fuck—“, Eddie whined with a strain in his voice before wrapping his arms tightly around you as he filled you up. Steve followed shortly after suffocating his moans into your neck as his fingers dug into your biceps. 

No one moved and you were fine with that as you held them to you. Tender kisses and soft murmurs of love gave you a comfort you never wanted to lose again as you silently prayed they would continue to keep their promise to you that what happened before would never happen again. 

“Do they have showers? Definitely not a good idea for you to go out in the cold with cold, damp hair.”

“Aw, thank you, mom.”, you tease causing Steve to playfully bite you as you laugh. “Yeah, they’re in the side there.”

###############

Your mom smiles at you from across the table as you sip your coffee and stare past her into your memories of the day before with a little smirk on your lips. 

“I know that look.”, she murmurs getting your attention. “When your father took me out on our first date, I couldn’t stop smiling when I got home. Your grandma noticed and said ‘Yup. That’s the boy she’s gonna marry!’” You both laugh till it tapers off and she meets your eyes with a softness you know all too well. “You can’t marry them, honey. You know that right?”

You slowly nod.

“But you would if you could? Reputation be damned.”

After thinking for only a moment, you nod again. 

“Things with that bitch Gina Frost are probably about to make things harder. Add in their fans, her fans, and the world who ALWAYS has to have an opinion.”, she rolls her eyes. “Are you ready for all that.”

Biting your lip to stop the small quiver as your eyes become watery, you honestly shake your head causing your mother to nod. 

“But to you their worth it and you trust them to be there for you every step of the way.”, she responds matter of factly as if she already knows the answer. 

You firmly nod your head. 

“I already warned them that I won’t do…this…again but I trust them when they say they’ll never put me in that position again. I love them, mom.”

“Yeah… It’s disgusting isn’t it? Love.” 

“Oh, absolutely. Just fucking gross.”, you giggle as she laughs with you and grabs your hand. 

“What’s gross?”, your father asks as he comes in from smoking and takes a seat by your mother. 

“You are, dear.”

“Mhmm. I love you to.”, he beams as he leans forward to kiss her lips. “Now where are those pretty boys of yours. Breakfast is getting cold. EDWARD AND STEVEN! I DON’T KNOW HOW THEY DO IT IN YOUR MANSION IN NEW YORK BUT HERE WE EAT BREAKFAST AT 8:30AM!”

“I was trying to let them sleep in, dad.”

“Mhmm, no special treatment here. They want to be a part of the family then this is how we do things.”, he scoffed making you smile at his gruffness.

He liked them. 

Eddie appeared first with Steve gently pushing his back to guide him into the room and into a chair. The mogul leaned over and tenderly kissed your cheek before taking a seat on your other side, immediately placing his arm around the back so his fingers could casually run through your slightly messy, bed head hair. 

As you threw one of your legs over the rockstar’s, his eyes cracked open meeting your glowing ones as you tried to hide your laughter in your coffee cup. Lightly pinching your cheeks, he pulled your lips to his before leaving his palm on your knee where he would occasionally rub your skin through throughout breakfast as he slowly woke up. 

###########

@aol19 @paradisepoisons  @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash @alastorssimp @mygirlchaos @starksbabie @imagine-all-the-imagines

[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

chocolate frog terrarium || theodore nott x reader

a/n: WARNING: ur a HUFFLEPUFF GIRL and now you have made-up siblings lol the chocolate frog thing was something i thought of a while ago and i think it’s funny. and i played hogwarts legacy so i have to reference it <3

to say that theodore was nervous about the date was an understatement. he was overwrought and maybe even querulous (thank you thesaurus.com). he didn't know what to wear and he was worried that his hair looked stupid. eventually he decided he looked as good as he was going to and left to meet (y/n) in the bell tower courtyard.

when he made it outside he saw her waiting by the fountain. she was conjuring three little yellow canaries, a spell they had recently learned in mcgonagall's class. when she saw him walking towards her she waved her wand and all of the birds disappeared.

"theo, you made it!" she walked towards him, grinning widely.

"you didn't think i'd show?" he pretends to be offended. "i see you've mastered the avis charm?" he watches as a few yellow feathers fall to the ground at her feet.

"truly i was worried you and malfoy were having me on..." she trailed off before quickly pivoting to a brighter topic. "are you ready to go?"

"yeah let's get going," he offers his arm and she takes it, looping hers through his.

they make small talk as they walk across the rickety bridge and all the way to hogsmeade, talking about everything from potions class to what they think harry potter will manage to do before this year is up. they also make a brief pitstop at the puffskein den on the way to the village ("they're so cute, let's just look at them for a second!").

"where do you want to go first?" theo asked as the both of them entered the wizard village.

"honeyduke's," (y/n) answered immediately.

"that was quick," theo teased her, but still led them to the candy store.

as they walk around together theo watches as she examines almost everything in the store.

"what's your favorite thing in here?" she asks him while still perusing the shelves.

he thinks for a minute before answering, "probably...every-flavor beans."

"are you a sociopath or something?" she asked with mock-seriousness. "i can't eat those. ever since i got a dragon dung flavored bean." she shivered at the memory.

he laughed loudly, "i've never got one like that...what's your favorite?"

she picks up a chocolate frog and holds it up to theo, suddenly laughing lightly at something.

"you know i come from a muggle family, right?" she asked, tilting her head at him. he nodded, so she continued. "i bought one of these for my brother one time, and when it jumped out he thought it was a real frog, so he set up a little habitat for it and kept it as a pet."

"how long did it stick around?" theo asked, genuinely curious as he had never left a chocolate frog open and uneaten for longer than five minutes.

"a day, then it melted under the heat lamp," she chuckled, putting the chocolate frog back. "i wish you could have seen his face when he found his brand new pet frog melted in his tank."

"i've always wondered how muggles would react to all of these different candies," theo said, imagining the scene of a boy finding his new pet as a melted chocolate blob.

"don't get me started on my sister," she rolled her eyes before continuing, "she tries to talk to the cards. she has a crush on her gilderoy lockhart card."

"so you've exposed your muggle family to the wizarding world as well?" he asked.

"yes," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "i think it would be rather selfish to keep all of this to myself."

"did your parents freak out when they found out?"

"oh yes, my mom nearly lost it when i made a worm grow to, like, double its size."

"i would too, that sounds vile," he scrunched his nose up at the thought of a fat fucking earthworm.

(y/n) grabs two chocolate frogs and a box of fizzing whizbees before going to the counter to pay. before she could even get her coin purse open, theo had already given the cashier enough money to cover it.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she frowned.

“i wanted to impress you,” he shrugged.

she rolled her eyes before offering him one of the frogs. they both opened them, caught them, and began eating them.

“what card did you get?” she asked, peering over his shoulder to see.

“fig,” he said unenthusiastically. “i have like eight of him already. who did you get?”

“ooh! i got mcgonagall! i don’t have her yet!” she said excitedly, pocketing the card. “i don’t have fig though….”

she side-eyed him in hopes that he would hand over the card. which he did. he didn’t need a ninth eleazar fig.

they started their walk back to the castle shortly after this. shyly brushing hands until theo made the move to fully hold her hand. he walked her down to the hufflepuff common room where he found himself sad to part ways.

“i had a really nice time today theo…” (y/n) said shyly, looking down at her feet. “we should do this again sometime.”

“yeah definitely! i had a great time too,” he smiled down at her softly.

he was wracking his brain, trying to think of something NORMAL to say, when she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“goodnight theo,” she smiled softly and went into her common room.

he smiled as he turned around to walk to the dungeons. when he made it to his dorm, malfoy and mattheo (yep he’s here IM SORRY) were waiting for him.

“how’d it go mate?” mattheo asked, smirking at theo.

“it was really great,” theo answered earnestly, too giddy to say something cool and nonchalant.

“that’s just adorable,” malfoy cooed at him.

“shut up…” theo rubbed the back of neck, before plotting with the boys on how to ask (y/n) out again.

[astrazero]

I made some spicy playing cards for fun 🖤👹✨ MEATY MONSTER STANDARD PLAYING CARDS.

Doing regular suits felt boring so I made up my own, but other than that they are basically regular playing cards with with different spicy fun artwork on every card.

You could use them as you normally would, or make up your own new games incorporating the alternate suits and artwork.

[mintiicinnamonii]

All 2 U

It had been two days since you and Wukong broke up. And you had been inconsolable ever since. Not answering calls, barely going outside, crying (as someone in your position reasonably would).. you felt like shit, to put it bluntly. Yet despite all of this, when you got a random letter in the mail inviting you from a ‘Wukong Sucks” party with an outfit exactly your size, you decided to go. Funny how that works, huh?

The party was at a bar, with a fancy chandlier and pool tables. It almost looked like a casino in Las Vegas; Whoever hosted this was rich as hell. You fiddled with your hoodie, looking around. Damn, a lot of people hated Wukong… Ironically, you were wearing a peach themed outfit, the one the mystery person sent you. Despite being depressed out of your mind, you found the mystery person’s humor funny.

“Hey! New one!” You turned your head to see a dark furred simian, with golden eyes and a red marking on his face. He looked vaguely familiar. “Me?” You pointed at yourself. The monkey chuckled; his voice had a slight rasp and a suave tone. “Yeah, who else could I be talking about?” He put his hands in his pockets. “Heard you were Wukong’s freshest ex. Name’s Macaque. The Six-Eared Macaque.” 

Macaque.. you memorized the name in your mind, silently muttering. “Nice to meet you,” You introduced yourself, saying your name as well. “Were.. you the one who sent me that invite? And the clothes?” Macaque furrowed his brows. “No, I didn’t.. Who could have-“ He froze, before pinching his nose bridge. “Oh, that little shit.” You raised a brow from under your hat, confused. “Huh?” The monkey looked back up at you. “Oh, nothing.” Macaque sighed.  “Say.. how about you go on stage? We have a karaoke bar, and at least for me.. singing relieves some stress.” You hummed. “I dunno.. I’m not the best on stage…” Macaque laughed in response. “Nonsense! You’ll be fine! Besides, it ain’t about how good you sound.” 

He led you to the stage, your eyes scanning the venue. There were people laughing and drinking around a bar where a white haired person (who looked more like a kid with her style and stature, Macaque insisted she was well over 21.) served drinks, playing pool and cards, and you caught sight of someone burning a Wukong plush on a stake. You shuffled a bit closer to Macaque after that. 

Wukong pushed through the crowd, covering his face with his sunglasses as his tail snapped on the floor in irritation at the sight of all the people he’d wronged; A few heavenly deities which he stole the peaches of immortality from, Ao Guang and his assistant, hell, even Nezha, the Celestial Realm’s number one grumpypants. What was the commotion? He was just here for a drink, only to see everyone crowding around the stage and burning his plushies at the stake. From behind his sunglasses, he saw two golden eyes whispering to someone with a peach baseball cap, and the sight of him made his blood boil. Macaque. That bastard. He had to use all of his self control to not start a fight right there, right now. But his temper was replaced instantly as a familiar face stepped on stage.

”Peaches?”

You looked at the crowds of people, clearing your throat as the spotlight shone on you. Your body shook and you started to sweat in your peach hoodie; you were never good at performing. God, why did you go here again? Just as you were beginning to panic, Macaque teleported next to you, accompanied by a shadow clone. He nodded, smiling reassuringly. The bartender gave a thumbs up, grinning. You exhaled, starting to sing a song that you’d been listening to a lot since the breakup. 

“I let you get too close I let it go too far Now I know, now I know Now I know exactly what you are!”

Macaque and the shadow clones jumped in, immediately knowing the song and following along.  Macaque and one shadow clone served as background singers as around 3 more played the drums and guitar; that monkey thought of everything…

“I don’t think you meant to hurt me

Cause I don’t think it meant a thing at all~”

You felt your voice rasp a bit, but no one seemed to noticed as the song continued.

Wukong was in shock. You were really good at singing, and through the 2 years you have been together, he had no idea you could sing. His heart twisted as you sang about how your relationship meant nothing to him. God.. nothing could be farther from the truth.

“But I~! 

I keep on waiting

Waiting to want you less than I do

Oh I do, oh I do, yes I still do want you..”

You held the mic in a death grip, voice filled with grief, and sadness, and rage. Rage about why this didn’t work out. Rage on how depressed you’ve been without him. Rage on how you STILL wanted him, despite everything. 

But then you felt.. guilt.

“But maybe its all on me 

for missing every sign 

and every chance 

and every turn..”

You couldn’t help but flinch when Macaque chimed in with: 

“Nononono, he’s a motherfucker!”

You persisted, pure emotion flowing into your song. Wukong bit his lip, staring at you on the stage. He would be passed on the floor from how hot you loomed if he wasn’t heartbroken.  

“Maybe there’s something here

For us to glean 

For you to teach

and me to try and learn..”

“Cause I am not a thief

But you were mine to earn!

What if I came on too strong?

What if I read this all wrong?

What if we just don’t belong?

All this what if, what if, what if, what if, what if, what if

makes me

burn~!”

Wukong felt tears well up in his eyes. “Dammit, peaches..” He tried not to cry. He couldn’t cry. Not now. Not ever. Why were you the only one who could do this to him? He was so busy wallowing in his depression he didn’t notice you ending the song and walking off stage. His golden eyes widened, watching you leave before chasing after you. 

“Hey! Wait a sec-“ He called out, speed walking as he once again pushed through the crowd. “S’cuse me- Pardon me- Move-“

He finally spotted you, drinking some alcohol with a dead look on your face in the corner. 

“Peaches!” 

You snapped your head to look at him. “..Wha-“ You paused, confused. “How- why-“ 

“I’m sorry.”

“..What.” 

Wukong stiffened. “Look, I know I’m bad at this sorry thing, and I know I fucked up on so many levels-“

“Oh, glad you could admit it. Want a medal?” You scoffed, drinking some more of the booze as you pulled your hood up on your head. Wukong opened his mouth, about to speak, when you cut him off, voice shaking. “Don’t. Just- just don’t. ..Do you know how much it hurts? For the one person who promised to be there for you through EVERYTHING, to leave you behind and forget about you? I loved you, I TRUSTED you-“ You paused, shaking. “Why? Why did you leave me? Am I that worthless to you? Is getting mire powerful the ONLY THING YOU CARE FOR-“ You inhaled, wiping away a tear. “Go home, Wukong. I don’t like how you make me feel.” 

Wukong’s heart shattered, reaching out to hold your hand when Macaque walked up to the both of you. Wukong quickly adjusted his sunglasses. Macaque was none the wiser, looking at you. “‘Not a good singer’ you say?” The shadow monkey laughed. “Hah. You’re cute when you stutter.” Your cheeks went pink at that. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, we’re busy.” Wukong growled, grasping his sleeve. “Woah, there bud, I was just asking if the new one wanted to dance~.” He smirked, and your eyes widened. Wukong, despite his obvious jealousy, sighed, nodding at you as a sign to let you go. You nodded back, going over to Macaque and joining him on the dance floor. 

Wukong groaned. “God.. stupid fuckin..” He stood up, going to leave. Music blared through the speakers, the stench of alcohol and smoke filled the room as he leaned on the door frame, and looked back one last time to see you and Macaque laughing, the two of you suddenly locked in a kiss.

Wukong stormed outside after that.

[r1-jw-lover]

Official John Wick Major Arcana tarot cards featuring Chapter 4 characters

Art by Julien Rico Jr, in collaboration with Lionsgate.

Sources: nerdsloveart, behance

Image descriptions below the cut:

[Start ID: 22 images featuring characters and locations from the movie "John Wick: Chapter 4" as Major Arcana tarot cards. The drawings are in black and white against a sandy beige background, and has plenty of circle motives. Roman numerals are at the top, their corresponding card title at the bottom, and the movie title "John Wick: Chapter 4" on the bottom left margin.

0: The number zero, or unnumbered, tarot card features Killa Harkan played by Scott Adkins as "The Fool". Killa is holding a 2 of spades between two fingers while giving a smug smile that shows off his set of golden teeth. He wears a ring on his right hand and the other hand is holding a stack of cards. Behind Killa is a minimalistic design resembling a casino token with details such as the diamond and clover symbols, as well as the numbers on the dice. In front of Killa is a table with two piling stacks of casino tokens, a gun, and the shadow of John Wick's head looming over a large portion of the table.

1: The number one tarot card features The Tracker or Mr. Nobody played by Shamier Anderson as "The Magician". Mr. Nobody has a smug expression on his face and is holding his rifle in a way that lets it rest slung over his shoulder. By his side is Mr. Nobody's Belgian Malinois. The backdrop consists of simplistic, grayish graphics of map vectors cropped into several circles of different sizes. There is a white-coloured infinity symbol on top of Mr. Nobody's head.

2: The number two tarot card features Rooney, aka The Ballerina, who first appeared in "John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum", as "The High Priestess". Rooney's back is facing towards us as she's performing a ballet move on a circular stage. Rooney is wearing a white crown and a dress that shows the cross tattoo on her back. In the backdrop, where Rooney's face is looking towards, are curtains with the initials "JW" written on the far ends of the frame.

3: The number three tarot card features Katia played by Natalia Tena as "The Empress". With a cool expression on her face, Katia is leaning forward against a set of railings, giving off a domineering aura. Katia is wearing a metallic necklace and a cross on her neck. Behind Katia is the crest of the Ruska Roma and a line in Russian circling around it.

4: The number four tarot card features The Bowery King played by Laurence Fishburne as "The Emperor". The Bowery King is sitting on a throne, but behind him is a pair of eyes staring menacingly at us. In front of him is a logo design with the same pair of eyes, though rendered smaller and appear less menacing, with an X crossed in between and a horizontal line capping the top of the X. At the Bowery King's feet, a few pigeons are shown in the foreground while the Brooklyn Bridge appear in the background.

5: The number five tarot card features The Elder as "The Hierophant". Behind the Elder is an Islamic floral design which extends into a more geometrical pattern. Standing in the background are two of the Elder's men.

6: The number six tarot card features John and Helen Wick, played by Keanu Reeves and Bridget Moynahan, as "The Lovers". John and Helen are smiling brightly towards each other in front of a New York night cityscape backdrop, with the Empire States building separating them at the centre. Above John and Helen is a silhouette of them pressed against each other about to kiss in front of a bright sun with the Brooklyn bridge in the background.

7: The number seven tarot card features John Wick driving his 1971 Plymouth Barracuda as "The Chariot". There is a bullet mark on the front glass pane of John Wick's car. On top is a closeup of John Wick surrounded by a circle of road markings and bullet marks.

8: The number eight tarot card features Charon played by Lance Reddick as "Strength". On top of Charon's head is the infinity symbol, and behind is a design reminiscent of a timepiece neatly decorated with knives, guns and bullets in a circle. Further behind is a faded image of the reverse side of the Gold Coin. Filling the bottom of the frame is the New York cityscape backdrop illuminated by the sun.

9: The number nine tarot card features Caine played by Donnie Yen as "The Hermit". Caine wears sunglasses and is holding a cane in his left hand and a pistol in his right. Caine's head is illuminated by a circle of bright light, which is surrounded by a dimmer, slightly bigger circle with Japanese wave patterns and then large protruding rays of black. In the backdrop are two winding trees along with a city landscape of Osaka, but they are overshadowed by Caine's black rays.

10: The number ten tarot card features L’Arc de Triomphe as "The Wheel of Fortune". The location is illustrated in such a way that looks like a clock, with the monument at the centre and twelve roads leading towards it. Surrounding the Arc de Triomphe are the letters from John Wick's name arranged in the exact order of north-west, north-east, south-west, south-east, west, north, east and south directions.

11: The number eleven tarot card features The Harbinger played by Clancy Brown as "Justice". The whole illustration is framed as if the Harbinger is contained inside an hourglass, with a half-body portrait of the Harbinger at the top and a full-body silhouette of him forming at the bottom from the sand flowing downwards. Behind the Harbinger's portrait is the Latin quote, "si vis pacem, para bellum", whereas next to the Harbinger's silhouette is a crescent moon. Along the sides of the hourglass outside are two duel pistols facing opposite directions on each side.

12: The number twelve tarot card features Koji Shimazu played by Hiroyuki Sanada as "The Hanged Man". Except for his feet, Koji is portrayed as an vertically-inverted reflection of himself on a pool of water. Koji is holding a katana and his head is surrounded by a circle of dim light and a brighter, slightly larger circle made of Japanese wave patterns. As seen in the reflection, behind him are cherry blossom trees and the Osaka city landscape.

13: The number thirteen tarot card features John Wick, aka the Baba Yaga, played by Keanu Reeves as "Death". John Wick is holding a pair of nunchucks in his right hand. Behind John Wick is a city landscape of Osaka lighted by the moon while his head is surrounded by a row of skull pictograms and two rows of bullets. There is also an faded image of the reverse side of the Gold Coin behind John Wick.

14: The number fourteen tarot card features Winston played by Ian McShane as "Temperance". Winston is holding up a wine glass with a capital C labelled on it, and there are multiple swords projecting from his back like wings. Behind Winston is the hotel name "Continental" and numerous halos of various fonts and patterns, along with the cityscape of New York, with the Statue of Liberty and the Empire States building in sight.

15: The number fifteen tarot card features The Marquis, Vincent Bisset de Gramont, played by Bill Skarsgård as "The Devil". Behind the Marquis is his signature emblem with two black knives crossed behind his head. The emblem is surrounded by two rows of knives. In the background is the night cityscape of Paris with the Eiffel Tower in view, illuminated by a moon that is surrounded by a snake or serpent that's chasing its own tail.

16: The number sixteen tarot card features the New York Continental Hotel as "The Tower". The top floors of the Continental Hotel are being set on fire as the small dark silhouette of John Wick and the debris carried along fall from its rooftop.

17: The number seventeen tarot card features Akira played by Rina Sawayama as "The Star". Illuminating behind Akira is a star resembling a six-pointed shuriken with two Japanese stork paintings on its left and right, which is further surrounded by a circle of alternating arrow fletchings and four-pointed shuriken. Akira is holding a bow and arrow and standing tall as the bodies of two men lie dead around her. In the background are the branches of cherry blossom trees and the sun or moon shining behind Akira.

18: The number eighteen tarot card features John Wick's and Mr. Nobody's dogs as "The Moon". The two dogs are staring up at the crescent moon, which is shaped as if John Wick's head is covering portions of the full moon. Surrounding the crescent moon are small stars and a illustration of the cycle of the moon phases. The two dogs are sitting on a road leading into an ambiguous city landscape in the background.

19: The number nineteen tarot card features the Sacré-Coeur as "The Sun". The rays of the sun spread out far and wide as wisps of clouds drifts behind the giant church. A dark silhouette of John Wick can be seen on the top open window of the Sacré-Coeur.

20: The number twenty tarot card features Chidi played by Marko Zaror as "Judgement". Behind Chidi is the emblem of the Marquis with a black knife cutting across behind his head. Below Chidi are the High Table's heavily armoured soldiers who are backdropped by a big splatter of sandy beige.

21: The number twenty-one tarot card features John Wick as "The World". John Wick's back is facing towards us with his head glancing back, showing us his face. Overlayed on top of him is his surname "Wick" with the "I" replaced by a bright silhouette of a walking John Wick. A circle of bullets surrounds John Wick and bullet marks scatter around him as the emblems of the High Table, the Marquis, the Adjudicator, and the Gold Coin fill all four corners of the frame.

./End ID]

[doodlydoodlies]

Frogs and birds

Characters: Sniper and Scout

———————————

Are frogs animals or birds? Scout asked as he shuffled through his deck of cards.

What? Sniper wasn’t sure he had heard the question right.

You know, frogs, Scout said, are they animals or bids?

Birds are animals! Sniper said furrowing his brow.

So birds are both birds and animals?

Sniper looked wordlessly at him, not sure if neither he or Scout understood the question just asked.

I guess, he said and supposed that would be the end of the convensation and that they could go back to playing the game in silence.

So frogs are both animals and birds as well? Scout asked as he put his card down and ended his turn.

No. Frogs are frogs. Birds are birds! Sniper said slowly trying his best to hide the annoyance in his voice.

What’s the difference?

Sniper sighed heavily before answering.

What you mean ‘what’s the difference’?

I’m mean, they both fly!

Sniper narrowed his eyes behind the yellow glasses and tried to pinpoint any signs in Scout’s facial features that would reveal if he was sincere or taking the piss out of him. He found nothing conclusive.

You know what frogs are, right?

Sure. Little green fellas! Scout said and smilingly folded his hands to signal the size of a frog. It looked like he was mimicking eating a burger.

And you think they fly?

Of course. I’ve seen plenty of flying frogs!

No, you have fucking not! Sniper snapped. He was a patient man but even he had his limits.

I have, Scout said and slammed his fist against the tabel.

Where?

At a pond. They fly just above the ground!

Sniper was speechless which gave Scout time to add the detail that frogs only fly for about 4 feet at a time.

They’re leaping, you idiot!

Well, maybe birds leap too! Scout snapped back.

Birds flap their wings. They fly! Sniper frustrated waved his arms.

So if frogs had wings they would be birds?

Sniper removed his glasses, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Can we just play the game?

————————

Inspired by this post by @yesterdaysprint

[markedcardsusa]

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[jmdbjk]

Wow.

I can't leave to enjoy a few days vacation without the world falling apart?

Hybe vs. Min HeeJin. Not on anyone's bingo card this year. I have not caught up on everything but who tipped off Hybe about her dastardly plans? The timing of it all... and her little extemporaneous skit she did for a press conference was perhaps part of her plan to turn public opinion in her favor? She claims to have invented kpop or at least made it what it is today but out the other side of her mouth says she hates idol culture?

Hybe's not here to play, they will not be nice. I see no benefit to her for showing us the not so pretty side of the idol industry. Maybe that's her problem, she can't see what she's doing because she's too far into it. Thirty years in the business will make you lose your objectivity. She has no idea she is coming across as a greedy, spoiled, entitled, manipulative, narcissistic, emotional female in a male dominated industry. Basically a nut case.

The lady had a tremendous opportunity to perhaps take ownership of her company in due time, become a great example for female leadership in a country where corporate culture is steeped in chaebolism. Instead she squandered that and thinks she will come out on top. Did she miss the Hybe vs. SM Entertainment episode from last year?

Anyway.

RM's new album! RPWP!

The Monochrome pop up store is doing well!

Jin will be back after 6 Fridays!

In other news. I went to Las Vegas. This is what I saw:

The Bellagio Fountains. They're huge. The Bellagio is SWANK. I looked for Jimin in Dior and Tiffany, Hobi in the Louis Vuitton store, Namjoon in the Bottega Veneta store, but none of them were in there. There was no Calvin Klein store.

When Hobi, JK and Tae were there watching the fountains dance to Dynamite, they were standing here:

Passed by Allegiant Stadium a few times. It's huge.

Drove out to Seven Magic Mountains. I am happy to report the lowest boulders had no writing or graffiti. They were amazingly huge as you can see.

Joon's pic of the above rocks:

Went to AREA 15 and it was HUGE and amazing! It's impossible to show everything that its about, there are multiple buildings and installations and activities, gift shops, bars, etc. We went into the Omega Mart (mega art) experience which led to a maze of fantastically created chambers, each different from the last one, all pulsing with animated lights, texture walls, ceilings and floors.

And ate at Hobak Korean BBQ. We couldn't find out which tables the members of BTS sat at but I got a pic of the Butter album they all signed. There were other autographs from other famous Korean celebs but the BTS signatures were displayed in a more prominent place on the wall.

We also scoped out The Sphere. Also HUGE. The concert space is arena sized. I don't know who was playing there that night but the parking lot was filling up.

We also walked the Strip.

The Fremont Street Experience. That's an animated video screen overhead with ziplines running through the length of it. It's two blocks of casinos, restaurants and gift shops. People are also doing busking and shows at street level.

Hoover Dam, view of the dam from the highway bridge and view of the highway bridge from the dam. Spent a few minutes on the Arizona side.

Hiked in the desert. Saw cactus and wildlife. Drank a lot of water.

Drove to the Mojave Desert Preserve in California just to say we did.

We hated leaving. It was a fun trip. But damn, I have so much stuff to catch up on now. Hiatus my ass.

If Vegas is on the BTS comeback tour I promise I will be there this time.

We gambled at the airport on our way out. The slot machines were next to our gate. And in the baggage claim area. But as you can see, its not just about gambling there.

In case you didn't get it, everything in Vegas is HUUUGGE and FARRRR. Walk a lot, spend a lot of money.

Overall, Las Vegas was clean, the people were extremely friendly and welcoming of course, they might be teaching hospitality as a school subject there, I don't know.

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Chapter thirteen)

Gone with one issue on to the next, post haste! It was like this year was pelting him with problem after problem. Of course, a quantum destination would be the next space on his bingo card of disasters! Why wouldn’t it be?! If there’s one thing the universe would never give him it was a break. That nap was a curse! He made up for too much of the sleep he’d lost back home. Now, there was karma to pay for those extra few hours of sleep. 

Granted, he felt better than yesterday, but was it worth the quantum detonation? Temptation says yes but logical thinking says no. Logical thinking also said nothing he could’ve done would’ve prevented the damage to the drive core. It would have already started to degrade from seawater pouring in before he even got there. It was nice to know this one thing wasn’t his fault, but it wouldn’t soothe the anxiety of knowing the Aurora was going to explode.

The damage a drive core from a ship the Aurora’s size could cause would be catastrophic. The radiation alone was a planet-ending event. Could he prevent this with his limited access to his powers? There were no blueprints for a radiation suit in his PDA and he doubts he could make one himself. Building what was essentially a hazmat divesuit strong enough to protect him from the lethal doses of radiation the aurora was dishing out wasn’t the same as building a table. Did he still have any kind of immunity to radiation? 

Regardless, he’s a Fenton! He got irradiated for breakfast! 

Swimming back to his base, Danny began pilfering through his storage. If he’s even going to try attempting to stop a quantum detonation, a seamoth would be helpful. Not only did it sound cool as hell, it’d make traversing through the waters a piece of cake! Only… The blueprints wasn’t there and data corruption was to blame. Cursing, Danny collapsed to the floor, scrolling desperately through all the blueprints over and over again. He’d regained the blueprint for the mobile vehicle bay, but there was no amount of tampering that’d give him the Seamoth. The mobile vehicle bay was useless without a vehicle! 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Danny decided this was the perfect time to check the radio. Any information concerning the rendevuos would be a life saver!

Swimming back to his pod, a cloud of rot spilled into the ocean. The foul odor of the remaining goo assaulted his nostrils. Nausea bubbled in his stomach, bile crawling up his throat. He crawled back into the pod. They say the smell of human decomposition was one the human body was hardwired to recognize and Danny could now say with confidence that rotting halfa was the same. Even if he’d been completely unaware of the lifepod’s contents the smell alone sent a shiver down his spine. It was easier to dissociate the pile of goo on the floor before it’d decomposed to this extent. Dried blood stained the floor any green that’d been there was gone without a trace.

This…This would be a gruesome site for whoever was going to collect the life pods after this was over. It’s a difficult scene for him to see for ancient's sake! It was funny to think that despite the horrid smell and blood, he’d rather have found something like this in Lifepod 3. Bodies, or at least more than a PDA entry to prove someone was here! He’d perfer finding blood and rot than have the dead be forgotten so easily. They’d died within the meager three hours Danny had been unconscious, and been torn into by local wildlife until nothing remained before anyone could respond to their distress signal.

Tearing his eyes away from the puddle, Danny sucked in a deep breath, regretting it instantly as putrid air filled his lungs. His PDA screamed, biohazard warnings taking over the screen, begging him to leave. With a shake of his head, Danny covered his nose with his hand toddling towards the radio. The device was flashing and Danny couldn’t hit a play button harder than he had today. 

“Playing pre-recorded distress call…” Waiting on his tippy toes Danny stared at the device with hope-filled eyes as a human voice sounded through the pod.

“This is Ozzy from the cafeteria. What the hell guys?! They didn’t warn us this might happen!” Danny’s heart sank as the message continued.

“Our pod was almost crushed by the seamoth bay on the way down, now we’re hanging on the edge of a cave system and this grim-looking snake thing’s trying to eat through the hull! Come get us already!” 

Saying that didn’t sound good would’ve been an understatement. How many hours had it been since this message was sent? A grim-looking snake thing? He has someone like that outside. Chances were they weren’t talking about the same snake thing.

 Dami has a snake-like body, but he resembles more of a dragon or a sea serpent…Dami hadn’t even made an attempt to hurt Danny or his little base. Sure, he scratched the glass but Danny had a feeling those claws were capable of much worse. Trust was a strong word to use when talking about a giant sea monster but Danny was confident Dami wouldn’t freak out and try to kill him for no reason.

All he’d done since seeing him was give reason after reason to kill him! Honestly, Dami just seems confused by his existence, but to be fair Danny is too. Logically he should be permanently dead, erased from every plane of existence but something gave him a third chance at life. Now he’s everyone’s problem!

Updating the signal to his PDA Danny crawled back out the lifepod, a signal to follow and materials to gather.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire

[the-french-belphegor]

This is what happens when you chat on Discord about your favourite blorbo getting freaky and the conversation turns from “oh, Scanlan” (derogatory) to “oh, Scanlan” (compassionate):

Not to say he DOESN'T like bondage or the harder fetishes, dude is a bonafide freak, but he definitely doesn't communicate his limits (and) he's totally the kind of guy to only state his hard limits in a jokey manner

So I went in half an hour from “...I almost kinda want to read a fic where bad shit almost happens to him because of that” to “...goddammit now I kinda want to write that story”... to writing it. And today’s Whumptober prompt was just perfect for it. (silencing a bard? yeah.)

Word of warning: the OC in this is all the red flags stuffed into one good-looking asshole. And I do mean all the red flags.

(to be edited later with the link to AO3!)

—

Sticks and Stones

(Whumptober #27, voiceless/muzzled)

In the past year or so, Scanlan has found that the problem with small town inns and taverns when you travel with six other people is that there’s often not enough chairs or space at one table for everyone. That’s a new one for him. He’s no stranger to trekking in company, but when he was in Dr. Dranzel’s troupe they usually played while clients were having lunch or dinner, then ate at odd hours, with plenty of room to sit together. But tonight the whole town is filled for the Renewal Festival, which means that the S.H.I.T.s are scattered across the inn’s common room. There are so many customers Scanlan can’t even squeeze in a spot next to Pike. Balls.

Still, at least he can chat with (and chat up) a very pretty dwarf lady and an equally handsome human guy over a regular-sized tankard of ale, so the evening is nowhere near the write-off he thought it would be.

Also, he’s fairly sure the guy is coming onto him. Pretty heavily, even.

Nice.

It’s been a while since Scanlan’s latest sexcapade, and the inn looks so jam-packed the S.H.I.T.s will probably have to look elsewhere for nightly accommodations – another inn at best, under a bridge or in a tree at worst, with hopefully clean stables in the middle. Scanlan was banking on warming the dwarf’s bed tonight if he played his cards right, but he’s not going to complain if he gets the human instead. If his feet were on the ground and not dangling off the kind of chair that allows the smaller races to sit at stupidly high tables, the guy would practically be playing footsie with him. Aww.

Although… Judging by the sharp smiles and the looming into his space to talk with the pretext that it’s really loud in the tavern, Scanlan’s potential bedmate might be into something a little less innocent.

“Know any sea shanties?” the guy asks, since they’ve been talking festival music.

Scanlan smiles widely.

“I know all the sea shanties. Do you have one you’d like to be serenaded with?”

“Sure – how about ‘Down in Diver’s Grave’?”

“Ooh, exotic. Many a sailor brave now sleeps in Diver’s Grave… This one’s a bit of a downer, though. Do you know ‘Captain Miller’s Knots’?”

“Both versions,” the guy replies immediately. “I used to be a sailor. I know a lot of sea shanties.” He pauses, and grins in a way that makes Scanlan’s spine tingle with anticipation. “I know even more about knots.”

Okay. That’s it. Scanlan’s having this guy for dessert.

“Well,” he says, turning on precisely the kind of charm he knows this sort of situation calls for, “knots are a fascinating subject. Care to share your extensive knowledge sometime?”

“How about tonight?” The guy slides his fingers closer and wraps his whole hand around Scanlan’s entire wrist in a manner that in other circumstances could be described as ‘possessive’.

Some tall folks never get over the fact that their hands can look so big on a bona fide adult. It’s kinda cute, really.

“Sounds great,” Scanlan says with a hint of purr in his voice. He has to strain it a little to make himself heard above the din inside and outside, just enough so no one else can hear, but that’s a piece of cake for someone who has made his voice his main tool for living for half a century. “Are you staying here, then?”

Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes, I don’t want to spend the whole night next to horse shit—

“Upstairs, the last room before the window. The bed’s a four-poster,” the guy adds right in Scanlan’s ear, raising the hairs on Scanlan’s arms in a smooth wave. Body hair wouldn’t be the only thing to stand at attention right now if Scanlan wasn’t such an old hand at this. “Come up in an hour? Festivities should be in full swing then, nobody will pay attention to a little noise.”

“Or a lot,” says Scanlan, grinning. “Okay, then. See you in an hour.”

The guy smiles back and extricates himself from between his tablemates. Scanlan finishes his dessert, then ambles off to the first of his friends he can find amidst the crowd.

It’s easy enough to spot Grog – he sits at least a foot taller and larger than anyone else except a hulking female half-orc in the corner. Oh and hey, Vex is sitting right next to him, stealing glances from time to time at her brother who (lucky bastard) is sharing another table with Pike and a bunch of other people.

Scanlan clears his throat; both Grog and Vex look behind them, then down.

“Evening, dear comrades,” he says, laying on the smarm thick, because that’s never not fun. “I have good news and bad news.”

“What’s the bad news?” Vex instantly asks, always suspicious.

“You won’t have the pleasure of my company tonight.”

Vex snorts. “‘Bad news’, huh. I wouldn’t quite put it that way. Why is that?”

Scanlan lets a glint of leer into his grin, just enough to annoy her. “That’s the good news. I found someone to share a bedroom with.” And then he adds an exaggerated eyebrow waggle, just in case Grog didn’t get it.

But while Grog may show a definite lack of smarts in some areas, there are other things he can always be counted on to understand.

“Nice,” he says, holding his hand for a high-five Scanlan cheerfully returns. Vex rolls her eyes.

“Which bedroom is that?”

“Why, Vex’ahlia, does that mean you’d like to join us for the night? That could be arranged.”

“Hardly,” she snaps back. “But if we want to be in Aynor tomorrow we have to leave at sunrise, and I’m not going through every single room to find yours if you sleep in.”

“Fine, the guy said ‘the last room before the window, upstairs’. But for all I know I’ll get lucky and not sleep at all. Beds are hard to come by these days, I don’t intend to waste mine by merely sleeping in it.”

This time, instead of getting snarky, Vex snorts.

“Fine, enjoy your debauchery. We’ll let you know when we find somewhere to spend the night.”

“Hey, Scanlan?” asks Grog with the crease between his eyebrows that means he’s thinking hard. “Think this town has a house of, you know –” he lowers his voice, presumably in deference to Vex, or at least their more innocent tablemates, “– lady favours? ‘Cause the last time we went was in Three Streams, and that was…” The crease deepens. “…A while ago.”

“I don’t think so, buddy,” Scanlan says, and pats his enormous arm. “But tell you what – Aynor’s a bigger town, I’m sure they have at least one. First brothel we find, we hit it together, I promise.”

Vex doesn’t even look at them. She only mutters into her tankard, “On your own money, darling, not the party funds.”

“Naturally,” says Scanlan smoothly, before turning on his heel and waving goodbye. “Well, good luck for tonight! I’m sure you’ll find something comfortable.”

“You’re such a dick,” Vex shoots back with no real venom in her voice. Then, a couple of seconds later, “Be careful, though.”

“Yeah, yeah. Toodles!”

Scanlan trots off to the bar, humming scraps of a melody he’s been trying to put together on the road today. I’m getting laid tonight, he thinks happily, and parts of the sentence weave themselves into a tune as though of their own accord.

After an hour nursing a tankard, he shoulders his pack and walks upstairs with a spring in his step.

But then he finds himself in front of the last door before the window and belatedly realises he completely forgot to ask the guy’s name.

Not that it matters much, really.

“Hey there, sailor boy,” he says as he knocks on the door, “I’m here for my less—”

The door opens, and Scanlan finds himself nose to navel with the guy from earlier. (Literally. The only thing he appears to be wearing is a pair of pants.) Behind him, a couple of ropes dangle from a – yep – four-poster bed, stripped of its curtains and large enough for one human or human-sized person.

Scanlan whistles.

“Damn, you’ve been busy.”

“It’s not every day I meet someone with an affinity for knots,” the guy says with a smile, gesturing him in. “Hey, what do I call you? I didn’t get your name.”

“Larry,” says Scanlan effortlessly. “What’s yours?”

It’s always easy to pluck a name from a random song. It helps that ‘The Cliffs of Caelkirk’ (Cheery Larry from Ula’ree, he was bold and he was merry) has been going round in Scanlan’s head non-stop for a few days. Every now and then he likes to make up names and be another guy, whether to lawyer Keyleth out of hoosegow or have fun with strangers he’ll never see again.

The guy closes the door and gives a mock bow.

“You can call me Gideon,” he says, and something tells Scanlan he’s not the only one making up aliases on the fly. Eh, who cares.

Scanlan rummages through his pack, running his mouth all the while out of habit.

“Well, Gideon, always a pleasure to meet a fellow student of the erotic arts.” One of these days he might start saving enough money for a bag of holding just for his little toys. Or try, anyway. Money is for spending, after all. “Ah-hah!” he crows, pulling out his favourite flogger with a flourish. “Now look at this little beau—”

He turns, and he sees Gideon twirling what looks like a cat o’ nine tails in his fingers. A short whip dangles from his belt.

“I was hoping we could go with my tools,” Gideon says, sounding almost unsure.

Scanlan blinks.

“Sure. In that case, dibs on the cat. Whips can get pretty hardcore. Super fun, though,” he adds as an afterthought.

That’s experience speaking. The first time he went for the whip was many years ago, in a very special house of pleasure in Port Damali, and he still has fond memories of the very skilled tabaxi girl who introduced him to the fun meaning of ‘dungeon’.

“Oh wait,” he asks as he kicks off his shoes and scrambles out of his clothes, “what’s your safeword?”

“My safeword?” Gideon stops playing with the cat and stares at Scanlan. “Oh, uh… ‘Swordfish’, I guess? What’s yours?”

“I like to say it’s ‘Mommy’,” says Scanlan into his shirt as he takes it off – then, fully naked, grinning, half bragging and half joking, “Not that I’ve ever needed it so far.”

The once-over Gideon gives him is extremely flattering. He’s still staring even as Scanlan hops onto the bed and slips his hands into the ropes, which are silky and tied in knots Scanlan has never seen.

Yay for maritime knowledge.

“Well, you never know, do you?” Gideon finally says, checking the knots and tying up a loose gag into Scanlan’s mouth, just for show. “I’m sure there are things you don’t like.”

“Oh, probably,” Scanlan articulates around the cloth. “I’ll tell you if I ever find one. As far as I know, as long as you don’t turn my back into carpaccio we’re golden.”

“Right,” says Gideon with a little laugh. Then he lets the cat’s tails fly.

It’s everything Scanlan hoped for. His skin is buzzing all over between the release each stroke brings. He hadn’t realised, before the guy started talking about knots, how much he had missed this – the thud, the sting, being held, being secured… Sometimes it’s nice to be able to turn off his brain and hand his body to another person. This is exactly why he goes for bondage.

He lets himself be in the moment for a while, enjoying the sensations: the flow of blood everywhere (not just into his boner, which is going nicely, strong but not painful yet), the sweet bite across his back, the pressure around his wrists…

…Maybe a little too much pressure here, actually. Might be time to loosen the knots.

Just as Scanlan opens his mouth to ask, a bright flash of pain – actual pain – steals his breath away for a second.

When it comes back, he does his best to turn and glare mildly over his shoulder at Gideon, who – yup – has discarded the cat and is holding the whip.

“Hey!”

“What?”

You could’ve warned me!”

“I thought you’d like the surprise,” says Gideon, twirling the handle around his wrist like someone who knows how to use it. “You’re right, whips are super fun.”

“Yeah, but…”

Scanlan is pretty certain there’s a flaw in this logic, or at least something closer to hinky than kinky here, but he can’t for the life of him put his finger on what. So he decides it can wait, at least for now. It’s not like he can’t get himself out of those ropes if he wants to – or, failing that, give Gideon one hell of a migraine if he tries anything funny, even with his hands tied.

“Just… Careful where you aim that whip,” he says finally. “Don’t want to break the furniture.”

“Don’t worry,” says Gideon, “I’m not an amateur.”

The whip cracks. Fire blazes for a second across Scanlan’s back again.

It’s harder to get into the groove of things after that. He’s still hard – pleasure still outstrips pain, and it would take a lot worse to make Scanlan Shorthalt tap out of a little impact play – but something keeps niggling at his brain, something… something small, but important.

Another stroke makes his hand clench around the ropes, and –

(oh, yeah, that’s one thing)

– should those knots feel tighter and tighter around his wrists?

“Gideon?” he asks, as offhandedly as he can. “I think there’s something wrong with these knots.”

“What?”

The strokes stop, which Scanlan perhaps shouldn’t be so relieved about, and Gideon pads closer. Now that Scanlan no longer has to twist his neck to see him he can have a good look at the guy, who from the tent in his pants is having a great time.

Gideon inspects the ropes and shakes his head.

“You’re fine,” he says, and walks away again. “Don’t do that, I thought they were coming undone.”

“Well, they’re not. That’s the problem.”

“What would be the point of slipknots, then? I thought you wanted to be tied up!”

“Wait,” says Scanlan slowly, “those are slipknots?”

“Yeah. I told you, I know a lot about knots.”

Scanlan is in a quandary. Quite an unfamiliar one, at that.

On one hand, he really wants to finish. There was a second where it almost happened – the point of no return was right there, within reach – before the lash bit at a tender spot on his back, just a little too close to his neck, and Scanlan tripped and fell back on the wrong side of his orgasm. It almost feels like edging, but not quite, and it’s starting to get old. Gideon had better make him come so hard his eyes cross after all this.

On the other, he might not be a sailor, but he’s fairly sure that using slipknots is not a good idea in this sort of game. He isn’t new at this position – if someone asks nicely enough he might agree to be the one tying up the knots, but it’s far from his favourite way to fool around with ropes or shackles – and nobody ever used slipknots on him that he can recall.

You don’t slip easily out of slipknots. It’s in the name and everything.

“Okay,” Scanlan says after a minute. To his credit, Gideon seemed to be waiting for his go-ahead to continue. “But. You’d better make this good.”

“Oh, I will,” says Gideon.

And before Scanlan can identify whatever it is in the guy’s voice that makes his ears twitch, there’s a crack, immediately followed by a burst of pain so white-hot it almost feels like being struck by lightning. Improbably enough, each of the next two or three manages to be worse, somehow.

When Scanlan unclenches his jaw he realises that the trickling warmth seeping down his spine and into the crack of his ass is blood, and that just –

Yeah, that’s not –

That does it.

For the first time in his life, Scanlan Shorthalt is finding sexy fun times to be A Little Too Much. It’s a bummer, letting himself acknowledge it, but the more he rolls the idea around in his head that things should stop, not just pause or slow down, the more he likes the concept. An ironclad requisite in getting pleasure from pain is that pain should not overstay its welcome. While Scanlan may have flirted with his limit on occasion, right now, he has to admit that enough is enough.

He’s down to barely half-mast now. Godsdammit.

He sighs, rolls his eyes, and mutters “Mommy” around the loose gag.

The word is immediately followed by another blow, and he yelps.

“Ow! What’s wrong with you? I said ‘Mommy’!”

“Oh yeah,” says Gideon behind him, breathing harder than he was the last time they stopped, “that was hot. Do it again.”

This time the breath rushing out of Scanlan’s lungs has nothing to do with the lash.

“What?”

“Say it again like that, that was really cute. Come on, be a good boy for Mommy.”

Scanlan’s brain lurches to a stop.

Never, in his almost sixty-nine years of existence, has anything killed his boner so quickly and so thoroughly. He would probably find it hilarious in other circumstances.

Hell of a way to find out I don’t have a mommy kink, he thinks, fighting to keep his breathing under control.

When he trusts himself to speak at the right pitch and the right volume, he looks over his shoulder again and says, “Look, man, this isn’t working out. Maybe you should just st—”

Some songs of the spicier variety have described lash strokes as flaming tongues. Scanlan, who happens to be a fucking pro at the oral arts (both the spoken word and the more hands-on kind), knows that’s not completely artistic licence bullshit – when done well, a taste of the whip can make him shudder and writhe like he does when there’s licking all over involved.

This last stroke, though, is nothing like that. The pleasure from Scanlan’s favourite mix of anticipation and sensation has fled with the last of Gideon’s words, leaving nothing at all to cushion the pain. The shout it startles from him ends in blood as he bites right through his lower lip despite the gag.

“Okay, asshole,” he says between clenched teeth, “you do know your knots. Here’s what you don’t seem to know, though – ‘safeword’ means you fucking stop, you unfuckable son of a rat bastard –”

It’s not rare for him to be laughing when he hurls magic along with insults, the equivalent of throwing small stones with a sling and hoping your opponent will slip on them and fall on their ass. Big ugly monsters or grim bandits armed to the teeth aren’t so scary if you can laugh at them. But this time Scanlan really leans into the ‘vicious’ side of things. He means to hit, to hurt, to wound, to lace his words with poison. How dare this guy spoil one of his favourite pastimes for him. If he wasn’t tied up and could use the bigger spells of his (admittedly, still pretty shallow) pool…

The spell, like a high note, starts low in Scanlan’s stomach and warms his chest on the way up –

And then nothing happens. Either he’s too shaken and he missed, or Gideon shrugged it off, Scanlan isn’t sure, and he doesn’t know which is more humiliating.

If he cranes his neck he’s just able to catch Gideon out of the corner of his eye, the whip switched to his left hand, right hand moving around swiftly through the air –

(Oh shit, he’s a spellcaster too?!)

– as a cold, sticky energy ensnares his throat and squeezes for a second.

Scanlan gasps out loud. Not even a whisper of sound leaves his mouth.

He spares one second or two to think fast and assess the danger, a habit he picked up from adventuring: Gideon is only holding his whip, and he doesn’t have any jewellery Scanlan can see, so that rules out most of the types of casters Scanlan knows. The gesture reminded him of Vex a little, the way her fingers flex when she conjures a hail of thorns, even though the feel of this guy’s magic is nothing like the prickly warmth that comes out of her hands.

So. Ranger, then. And, from the strength of the spell gripping Scanlan’s throat, at least on par with most of the S.H.I.T.s.

“None of that,” says Gideon, panting, one hand tight around his crotch and the other just as tight around the handle of the whip. “I just want to finish, it’s not that big an ask! You’re going to let Mommy punish you, like a good boy, and if you’re very good I might let you sleep the night here. Okay?”

After the blank shock and the red-hot burn of pain and anger, a cold trickle of panic starts creeping its way up Scanlan’s neck.

In what kind of fucked-up world would that be okay, he attempts to yell, but the words stay trapped inside his lungs and for a second it feels like so does his breath.

He. Fucking. Hates. This. Spell.

It’s bad enough that he can’t cast. Neither can he speak, sing, sigh, or shout. Scanlan is a bard; Scanlan is song, Scanlan is sound. He can modulate the music of the universe into magic and, with it, reweave the fabric of reality. Without that power, he’s useless, he’s insignificant – just another speck in a big old world, smaller and weaker than most, and that is Not Him. Not on a good day.

The next stroke makes him grind his teeth together. The one after that makes him cry out. By the third he’s screaming his throat raw – not that anyone can hear him. Unfortunately, it does nothing to cover Gideon’s little moans of pleasure, which are making Scanlan’s skin crawl in a way he didn’t know was possible for him.

So he retreats to the one shelter he’s never lost: music. He clings to the little scraps of melody from earlier, tries to piece them together into an actual song – what if this bit went here, and this sounds better lower, and more sting in there, make it sound sharper, and also this needs to go up…

(Not that he’s not going to do anything with that tune. He doesn’t intend to spare a single thought over it later – in fact, he’s planning to throw it away and forget it the second this is over.)

It can’t be more than a couple of minutes: the silencing spell wears out at some point, another one replacing it immediately. Scanlan barely registers. He’s too busy teetering on the brink of unconsciousness.

Kinked to death by a psycho with a whip. Yeah, that tracks. A death like that makes one hell of a punchline. The others will be laughing for days when they find his corpse…

The door bangs open. The sound startles Scanlan into half opening his eyes again. His eyelids are glued with tears. Huh.

Gideon barks, “What the hell?! Can’t you see we’re busy here?”

He strides forward to close the door, fully hard, whip in hand. But none of that matters, unless Scanlan is having straight up hallucinations, because there –

Slouching a little to fit under the lintel of the door, covering his eyes with a massive hand, voice apologetic as he says “Hey bud, Pike told me to tell you that… oh, shit, sorry,” like he’s not being the single most welcome cockblocker in the entire history of cockblocking –

– is Grog.

⁂

Pike said someone had to let Scanlan know about the barn they found for the night. So Grog, remembering where Scanlan said he planned to spend the night, volunteered to go tell him. Sure, Scanlan basically said that he and whoever he’d be sharing the room with would be doing the nasty all night long, but Grog has his doubts about that. They’ve been walking all day; they all need sleep to recuperate, especially the folks who heavily rely on magic, like Scanlan or Keyleth. It’s late, so there’s a good chance Scanlan’s already tucked in bed, maybe even asleep. But he needs to know where the rest of their friends are, and Grog takes his mission seriously.

When he opens the door, he covers his eyes mostly for the sake of whoever is in there who isn’t Scanlan. Some people get weird about being naked, especially in company. Grog gets it; if it was him having fun with a girl and someone he doesn’t know barged in, he wouldn’t like it. Scanlan gets a pass because he’s Grog’s lady favour buddy, and sometimes if there’s too many full rooms or the brothel is too small they’ll just share a room and not bother each other. They’ve seen one another naked way too many times (even if you’re a maths wizard, which Grog definitely could be if he deigned to) for it to be weird anyway.

Grog hears a guy’s voice, but he doesn’t hear Scanlan’s. Curiosity makes him take his hand off his eyes.

What he sees makes him raise his eyebrows.

There’s a half-naked human guy with a raging stiffy and a whip, looking pissed off at the interruption. There’s Scanlan on the bed, naked, gagged, slumping as low as the ropes tying his wrists to the bed’s columns will allow him. So far, nothing out of the ordinary; Scanlan is into pretty weird stuff. Perhaps Grog should go back to the barn with the satisfaction of a job well done and leave them to it.

But then Grog looks – really looks – at his little buddy. And what he sees makes him stop and think for a second.

Scanlan looks way too white, for one thing. His nose and his eyes are running, blood is drying in a slow trickle from his lower lip, and his mouth is moving soundlessly. Plus, and this is one hell of a red flag to Grog, despite the setup he isn’t hard at all. More like the opposite.

That doesn’t look good weird. That… looks bad weird.

“Hey,” says the guy, taking a step towards Grog with a placating gesture, “this isn’t what it looks like. He agreed to this. We’re just having fun, okay?”

Sometimes Grog will get bad vibes from something before his brain twigs on why it’s dangerous, like some spells or traps. He’s learned to rely on this and it has saved his life once or twice. And this dude is setting off all kinds of alarm bells in his head.

Still, he’s never tried getting beat up for fun, so it’s still possible that he is misreading the situation. Just to make sure, before he leaves, he asks a very important question.

“Scanlan? Are you havin’ fun?”

Scanlan slowly shakes his head ‘no’.

A familiar red haze shimmers before Grog’s eyes. The rage is instantaneous, irresistible; it starts low in the pit of his stomach and explodes into his limbs, volcano-like, pumping up fire from his legs to the palm of his hands.

Grog roars, strikes. His fist smashes into the guy’s face, knocking him back ten feet and through the closed window behind him – and then, unless he learns to fly on the way, crashing down one storey to the ground below in a shower of wood shards and broken glass.

Grog makes to follow him through the broken window to finish pounding his head into a paste, but a sound stops him in his tracks.

Scanlan is laughing, a thin squeaky laugh that pulls Grog right out of his rage.

“Fuck,” he repeats on a loop, “oh fuck… oh, man, that… wow. What a… oh, shitting fuck…”

By the time Grog has found a dagger to cut him loose, he’s shaking so badly Grog has to be extra careful not to nick the skin of his arms. The last thing Scanlan needs is another cut; the sight of his back, bloodied and covered in crisscrossing weals going from deep red to violently purple, almost sent Grog straight into another rage. His laughter is gone, too, if it really was laughter in the first place, replaced by hiccuping wheezes that are starting to worry Grog.

“Scanlan?” he asks, a little uncertain. He knows asking Are you okay would be stupid, so he settles for pointing out, “You sound weird.”

There’s no response – only pathetic little noises like there’s not enough air, or too much, and Scanlan is choking on it. This is so far out of Grog’s wheelhouse that he’s starting to get a little spooked. He’s never seen someone freak out like that – or maybe he has, but never a friend, and never a friend like Scanlan – and he has no idea what he’s supposed to be doing.

So he goes with his gut. He shuffles on his knees to the edge of the bed, where Scanlan is all hunched up on himself, and says as gentle as he can, “Breathe, okay? You’re gonna pass out if you keep doin’ that. Come on.”

Scanlan doesn’t really breathe, but he doesn’t pass out either. He just plunks his forehead right on Grog’s chest and grips the fur under Grog’s spaulder like he’s gonna fall from really high if he lets go.

(Grog knows, from the odd comment he pays attention to, that his manly musk can be a lot to handle for people that aren’t him. It’s weird that Scanlan doesn’t make a single joke about that, and he’s not sure he likes it.)

While he knows patting someone’s shoulder or back for comfort is a thing, it’s completely out of the question right now. He just gingerly lays his hand on top of Scanlan’s head and lets it rest there. Not too heavily; his palm alone is almost larger than Scanlan’s entire skull. Not for the first time, he marvels at just how tiny gnomes are. And how easy it is to forget how breakable they can be.

After a few seconds, the choking gasps slow down into wet, heaving breaths, although they still rattle on the way in. Eventually Scanlan taps an uneven rhythm against Grog’s side and hums a little into his chest; the worst of the mess on his back closes up, leaving streaks of blood, red welts, and a whole lot of bruising.

Scanlan lets go of Grog and sits back up. Grog pretends not to notice him rubbing his hands across his face. When they fall his eyes are still damp, red and puffy.

“Good t—timing, big guy,” he says, voice raw and not too steady. “Like… really, really good.” He takes a deep breath that still shudders a bit then trips at the end as his eyes go wide. “Shit, Grog, is that…?”

Grog looks down where he’s staring, goes “…I guess,” and plucks the tooth out of the skin between his knuckles. And then the other one, an inch to the left. This one’s splintered.

He knows he hit the other dude hard. In hindsight, he should have hit him so much harder.

From the look in Scanlan’s eyes, he’s having a similar train of thought. “Where is he?”

“Whip guy?”

“Yeah, whip guy. I’m gonna Thunderwave his fucking guts inside out.”

This is said calmly, coldly, like stating a fact. Grog, who knows rage, can feel it tremble just beneath the surface. Like that time they fought goblins and Scanlan just annihilated a bunch of them with a blast of magic and a grin that was definitely not a smile.

If there’s something Grog respects, it’s the need to utterly destroy the thing or the person that fucked you up. He gets to his feet and goes to lean out the wrecked window.

On the street below, by the light of festive bonfires and lanterns, he can see debris, blood, and some tracks, but no prone body.

So he goes back to the bed and says, “Sorry, buddy. Looks like he got away.”

Scanlan blinks, sags a little. The cold fury fades from his eyes.

“Okay. Well… I guess I should heal myself a bit more, then.”

This time he sounds closer to normal as he does his magic, even if his voice is still a little fried. When he’s done and the usual pink-purple glow disappears, the bruises are still there, but at least the bigger welts are gone and the skin is no longer broken. That’s not gonna leave big scars, but Grog knows not everybody loves displaying badass scars as much as he does.

“Looks good,” he says with a thumbs up. “Might wanna ask Pike to heal it a bit more, though.”

Scanlan grabs him by the strap of his spaulder and yanks hard enough that Grog lets himself get pulled down.

“Grog,” he says in a surprisingly earnest tone, “brothel rules.”

“What?”

“You know, ‘what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom’. Nothing happened here. Well, nothing bad. All right?”

Grog thinks about what he walked in on, about his second best little buddy covered in blood, shaking and struggling to breathe, and tries to reconcile it with ‘nothing bad happened’.

“What do you mean, ‘nothing bad happened’? That looked pretty fucking bad to me!”

Scanlan throws out his arms. “I’m alive, aren’t I? Thanks for that, by the way. Like I said, that was really good timing. But,” he adds, clambering down from the bed and picking up his clothes from the floor, “it’s in the past now. Besides, the others don’t need to know I couldn’t handle a bit of kink. Vex would never let me live it down. Shit, where did I leave my… oh, there we go.”

Grog has a feeling he’s right and wrong; Vex might laugh, sure, but also, if she knew what the guy actually did to Scanlan and they crossed paths with him again, he would die a horrible death. Still, Grog understands the need to leave bad shit in the past and not think about it, so he doesn’t insist.

Scanlan has a quick wash – much quicker than usual – with the contents of a pitcher on the washstand, then puts his clothes back on. Then he turns to Grog, grins, and asks, “How do I look?”

He looks pale still, and he limps a little when he walks. But also he looks clean-faced, put together, pretty much his normal flamboyant self.

“Like you?” replies Grog, which appears to be the simplest answer.

Scanlan shrugs, winces. “Eh, good enough.”

One look around the room convinces them not to stick around and pick up the asshole’s tab. Grog solves the problem by picking up Scanlan and his pack and dropping through what remains of the window. After that, finding the others basically amounts to a leisurely stroll down the dark streets, through the thinning crowd of partiers going home.

A silent shadow falls just as Grog tries to open the door of the barn as discreetly as possible. There’s the flash of a dagger, then of a grin, followed by a snicker.

“Look what the cat dragged in. Thought we might have to search for you all around town tomorrow morning.”

In deference to the late hour, and very charitably (he thinks), Grog does not punch Vax in the smirk for startling him and making no damn sense.

“What cat?” he asks. Scanlan pats the side of his thigh.

“Figure of speech, buddy. Hey Vax, tell me we don’t have to share this place with a bunch of horses again.”

“First of all it’s cows, not horses. And unless five is ‘a bunch’, then nope. Also there’s a hayloft with lots of clean hay, so no complaining, please. If you wanted something more comfortable you should’ve Burt Reynoldsed us into an actual inn.”

“Yeah, well,” says Scanlan, throwing out his chest and jutting out his chin as he walks past Vax and into the barn, gait still a little uneven, “Burt Reynolds had a hot date.”

Vax raises an eyebrow at him and whistles.

“Damn, Shorty. You look like you got lucky.”

“You know what? I really did.”

Grog has no idea whether Scanlan’s wink is for him or Vax. Part of him is wondering how this last sentence feels so much like the truth when it’s actually a lie – unless it’s the other way around. Is this how Scanlan bullshits people so successfully? By telling them truths disguised as lies disguised as truths?

The barn is on the small side, with a hayloft to match. Still, there’s plenty of room for bunking in the soft hay, well above the snoring cows. Pike, Percy, Vex, and Keyleth are already asleep, tucked in blankets to avoid getting poked by random straws. That’s not a worry for Grog, who just finds a good spot and lies down.

A few pained hisses and frustrated noises later, he feels Scanlan climb on top of him and curl up on his chest, right against his arm. He doesn’t do this as often as Pike, but his warm weight – as slight as it is – feels almost as familiar.

“Scanlan?” mutters Grog when Scanlan finally stops squirming. “You okay?”

“Sure, buddy. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”

Whether or not it’ll be true is moot. Grog has seen him convince people of truly ridiculous things. It’s always very entertaining. But, also, sometimes, a little scary.

“Hey, Scanlan,” Grog murmurs, because the question has been digging in his brain on and off and questions like that have a way of just… coming out, sometimes, “d’you really like getting beat up?”

“To a point, yeah.”

“Why?”

There’s a pause. All Grog can see of Scanlan is his shoulders, the long brown hair that tickles a little, and the tip of his nose.

“I dunno,” Scanlan mumbles after a while. “’s hot. I guess it’s… really not for everyone. Just… Sometimes it feels good to give someone else the reins, y’know?”

Grog really doesn’t. But Scanlan doesn’t elaborate, so neither does he.

He just asks very quietly, “If I wanted to try, sometime. Like, if. Would you… spot? Kinda? In case it gets weird?”

He still can’t see Scanlan’s face, but this time he feels him smile into his chest just as a tiny hand taps his left pec.

“’Course I would, bud.”

Maybe this shouldn’t feel as reassuring as it does, if only because Grog has no intention of ever getting hit for fun without being able to hit back.

But it really does.

⁂

Aynor is a small town, but it does have a brothel. Since curiosity has been low-key gnawing at Grog’s brain for the entire day, he offhandedly asks Scanlan if he wants to come with him. And then, with Scanlan’s help because words can be tricky, he tells a hot dragonborn lady almost as tall as he is that he would like to try some bondage, please.

He barely feels the first blow.

The second one triggers a rage.

Turns out few pieces of furniture are sturdy enough to withstand the might of a properly pissed off goliath barbarian. That bed gets fucking destroyed. At least Scanlan manages to calm him down before the security bouncer guy tries to attack him. Leaving the ladies to deal with a corpse soaking up blood and gore into the carpet would not have been very polite.

Grog escapes with a life ban on his head from Aynor’s one house of lady favours that Scanlan said applies to him as well because he’s a good bro like that.

“Like I said, it’s not for everyone,” says Scanlan as they run the fuck out of the brothel, followed by the madam’s imprecations.

Eh, it’s fine.

It’s not like words can hit worse than a weapon, anyway, right?

—

(…Right? Wrong :D But he’ll change his mind out one day…)

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

RATED M

Photo via Rangmang's website

One could equate the ambiance and feel of a Japanese shokudō between a New York street bar and an izakaya. Family friendly and cheap, these quaint-looking nooks and crannies tended to be independently run, smaller, and prioritized their menu on fully prepared entrees, rather than finger food and saké.  

With its retro red and white signage, Rangmang was a cozy little shokudō, located an easy three minute walk from Ebisu station in Roppongi. The establishment was best known for their lightly breaded fried chicken (karaage) and Lemon Sours, where exclusively on Fridays and Saturdays you, and your party, could enjoy a 90 minute all-you-can-eat special, alongside rounds of bottomless beer. 

The air was warm and thick for October. Looking out, Satoru thought this Wednesday night felt a tad busier than most, then again, this part of Roppongi was almost always busy; Tokyoites partaking in a few hours of freedom before work the next day (and the flood of tourists). Jujutsu sorcerers weren’t given such luxuries. There was no such thing as “time off,” evident by the quarter-Dane’s insistence they get together for another debrief. As usual, Utahime and Shoko were invited. Judging from Nanami’s stalwart expression, his intel was not encouraging. 

“The streets are starting to talk,” he began, once they were settled at their table and placed their orders. “They know about Hannah.”

“Not surprising,” Satoru said with a shrug. “We knew they’d catch on eventually.”

“Doesn’t negate the fact she could be at greater risk, doofus,” Utahime bristled. “You should be taking this seriously.”

Satoru turned to issue her a cold stare. “Who said I wasn’t?” 

Uh oh. Best to knock on a stone bridge before crossing it. 

While they were friends, that didn’t make Utahime untouchable in any way, and it was no wonder as to why. She wasn’t blind. Any person with a pair of eyes and an average-sized brain could see he and Hannah had gotten physical. Afterall, no couple made “bedroom” eyes like that unless they were fucking the ever-loving tartersauce out of each other. There was also the fact he genuinely cared for her, and talked about her nonstop. Utahime found Satoru boorish and immature and too powerful for his own good, but Hannah was undoubtedly a central figure in his life. Accost her, cross that stone bridge before knocking, and there’d be hell to pay.

Speaking of which, she should ask Hannah to get tested.

A waitress shortly came with their fried chicken and beer (Satoru substituted for Pepsi). Shoko quietly sipped her IPA, watching her blue-eyed friend with shrewd prudence. She wasn’t much for joining the conversation, merely reading the room, guessing what card he had played. Despite knowing him longer than most, Shoko always found it tricky to gauge which Satoru they were dealing with; the Joker or the Ace. He switched hands on a dime. Made her nervous. 

Kento hadn’t finished.

“That’s not all,” he added. “There’s been some development in the Time Vessel Association’s reemergence. We’ve finally confirmed its new leader. My hunch was correct.” He paused. “It’s him.”

They didn’t say a word. They didn’t have to. At this point, the evidence could drown an entire village; The manipulated curse that attacked Hannah back in April; The two armed thugs Nanami detained at the opera (and brutally interrogated); The weird disappearances and murders. 

Obscure religious groups were not strange to Japan. The country was plagued by NRMs (New Religious Movements). Most were quirky and innocuous. Others were downright dangerous and at times posed a sizable threat to the public. Happy Science, a more modern group, had its own political party and proclaimed fervently, without evidence, that China and North Korea were plotting Japan’s nuclear demise and the country should prepare for invasion. Kaeda Juku did not believe in modern medicine and taught that only special prayers recited by their leader could heal an ailing person. This came asunder when two mummified children were found in their headquarters, having died of medical negligence. Then there was Aum Shinri Kyo, a terrorist organization most infamous for the Subway Sarin Attacks, killing fourteen people and injuring over a  thousand. 

Like deadly viruses, these movements preyed on the vulnerable and oftentimes disbanded, before circumventing and reforming into something far worse. The Toki no Utsuwa no Kai, or Time Vessel Association, had slipped off the police’s radar for years, only to rise back from the grave like a dark twisted phoenix, this time with a new Messianic figurehead, a new “vision.”

For months now, jujutsu’s leading investigators had worked around the clock to uncover the new leader’s name. The residuals, disappearances, and suspicious murders pointed to just one.

“So, the rumors are true,” Shoko drawled, setting her beer on the table. “The crazy dude got himself a cult. What’s the prize for joining, I wonder, a lollipop?”

“Shoko,” The Six Eyes wielder sighed, uninterested in her sarcasm. “Stop.”

Damn it all.

Though he’d been craving some decent fried chicken, Satoru found he wasn’t hungry anymore. He knew he was supposed to do his job, that a number of people were counting on him. He was the Six Eyes wielder, the strongest sorcerer on earth, however the truth of the whole prospect made him sick to his stomach, and there was nothing he could do. The higher-ups had made their choice.

It wasn’t an accident he’d chosen Suguru’s favorite restaurant tonight. Rangmang used to be their hang out. They had stumbled upon it one evening after a grueling mission. It was just the two of them then, laughing at something stupid a curse user had said, ordering karaage, talking the proverbial shit. Teenage boys were good at that sort of thing; causing a ruckus. A lot of fond memories here.

There are few friends you make in life, even fewer worthy enough to be your equal; The whole “he’s got your back, you’ve got his” dynamic. Someone who knows you better than you dare know yourself, someone you might open up to. The first person who made you feel like you weren’t alone in the universe, like you weren’t the only one born different. Born crazy. 

A best friend. A partner. A soulmate.

And then they leave you, crush your heart into a million shattered pieces until it’s only a fragment of what it once was, knowing it’ll never be made whole again, that it’ll never trust.  

You’ll just get left behind.

Satoru stifled down a breath. Suguru’s memory was like an oil stain he couldn’t wash out. Fate seemed insistent on stringing them together - and damn - did it piss him off. He just wanted this pernicious cycle to end. His heart had endured enough beatings, his upbringing notwithstanding. How much more would it take? How many more times must he go through this long, tortured dance? He hadn’t told Hannah the full story yet either. He perished the thought.

“You could do it, Satoru…The impossible…”

“Satoru,” Kento said emphatically, as though reading his brooding mind. “You can’t take any - and I mean any chances now. If you see him, he’s to be killed on sight. No more fooling around. That goes for the rest of you.”

“Got it,” Utahime chimed.

“Mmhm,” grunted Shoko.

Satoru remained silent, peering down at his Pepsi. 

“And another thing, Satoru.”

The Six Eyes wielder looked up at his blond colleague.

Nanami’s steel grey eyes were piercing. “When in public, Hannah is to stay with you at all times. Given what we know, we already suspect there’s a bounty on her head.” He gave his friend a rare, pitying look. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you twice.”

Satoru closed his fists. He could still feel his wife’s blood bleeding on his fingers, her horrid screams, scenes of the last time he’d failed to keep her safe.

“No,” he answered stoically. “You don’t.”

His eyes returned to his half-empty can. A part of him wished his old man hadn’t abused alcohol. Maybe then he could go home and muster the wherewithal to drink away his sorrows. 

What an absolute, shit-tastic day.

Hannah was home at her library desk, lost in the sentences of a thickly paged book, writing carefully curated notes as she left stickered tabs on the page numbers. The more she read, the more aggravated she became. She hadn’t known what secrets she’d discover upon opening the book, but this? This was unforgivable, a crime to all things sacred. How had it gone on like this without anyone knowing?

The Gojo library was no Wiblingen Monastery. It was no bigger than her bedroom and the architecture was far more quaint in design, walled with elegantly painted shoji and illuminated solely by sun or lamplight. It conserved a few manuscripts believed to be early writings of Lady Murasaki (though this couldn’t be verified), as well as Buddhist sutras, poems, and diary entries written by Gojo ancestors long before. There also existed ancient incantations handed down from progeny to progeny, but those were kept under strict spell and key. However, none of those fascinations mattered to Hannan. The part she loved most about the Gojo library was its serene solitude, a place one could think alone in peace and quiet. 

“What-cha got there?”

Or not.

Hannah peered up to see the most vivid pair of turquoise blue beaming down at her, the look of complete adoration. She recently noticed he had dimples the other day - but nevermind that. She could admire them later, preferably when they were tangled in his (their) bed with no clothes on.

“You said you tested out of high school English, correct?” she asked candidly.

“Sure did.” Satoru quirked a snowy brow. “Why do you ask?”

Hannah closed her notebook and flipped the bigger book to an earlier page, holding it up to him.

“Read this for me; the first paragraph. Anything look off to you?”

Satoru was reticent in taking the book, but  nonetheless followed her instructions. He found her reasoning almost immediately. The book was laden with spelling and grammar mistakes. “Suzie was exciting to go to the parke.”…“Thomas wants to glow up to be a polizman.”…“English is like a magic.” He couldn’t help laughing. There were so many. But that wasn’t all. 

“What the heck?! Even the Japanese segments have errors.” He was outright cackling.

“This,” Hannah pointed to the book, forcing herself not to smile, “is the English textbook Jujutsu High gives their first years. Shoko found me hers. I guess it explains why the school’s English scores have stayed below average for so long.”

“Unreal.” Satoru flipped another page in total bemusement. “Nobody said anything, so I never thought to... “ He gave the subject more thought and felt his grin widen. “This is kinda sad.” The sheer irony. 

Although, he had to correct himself. Satoru quickly recalled the many times he stood listening to Shoko complain about her English classes. “Adachi-sensei can go jump off a bridge,” she would whine. The future physician wasn’t the greatest at explaining things. Looking back, he simply assumed she was being dramatic - that “time of the month” and what not - but nope. Turns out he’d been wrong.  

“Seems Mr. Adachi was rather inept,” Hannah went on. “Must’ve been exaggerating when he said he graduated from Brown.”

Hannah was still sitting in the chair. Satoru came awfully close, bending low to her ear, “Soooooo, does this mean you’re taking his place? Cause if yes, that would make me very,” and looped his arms around her, “very happy.”

She warmly accepted his embrace, resting her head along his chest. “Oh, would it now?”

Having changed from her dress earlier, she felt his hands snake behind and tug on her obi, loosening the ornate drum knot; a pretty burgundy and pomegranate combination. The kimono parted to unveil milk smooth skin, allowing him the satisfaction of trailing butter-soft kisses down her neck.

“Definitely,” he lavished between kisses. “You’d be…a great…teacher.”

Hannah wished she shared even a fraction of his confidence.

“There’s still a lot I don’t know.”

Satoru halted his kisses, voice tender. “You can’t know everything, sweetheart.” He squeezed her tight. “No one does.”

Hannah closed her eyes as he continued peppering her neck, slightly moving her head a fraction to give him access of the other side. “How was Rangmang?”

Satoru went still, a subtle yet prevalent tension in his hold. 

“It was…okay,” he said, breath tickling her skin. “We talked about work.” 

“Just work?” she prompted, hearing a somber tone to his voice. 

Satoru hummed in affirmation. “Yeah. I won’t bore you on the subject. It’s nothing you have to deal with.” He inhaled her scent and sighed deeply, relaxing his shoulders. “Mmm, feels good to be home.”

That seemed to be the only answer she’d get. Hannah too gave a sigh as he held her close. It had been a productive yet tiring evening. 

“Suppose I’ll have to find a proper textbook now, won’t I?” she said.

Satoru hummed his agreement again, burying his nose in the crook of her neck. He glanced back down at the page she had opened.

“Polizzzzzman.”

They both laughed.

Chapter Contents

[laurelnose]

i saw an essay when Book of Hours came out that said the Librarian was different from the Cultist because the Cultist has no friends and is just holed up somewhere pursuing higher mysteries while using people as ritual parts, while the Librarian is a member of the community at Brancrug. (It was hilarious how fast BoH swung the fandom consensus on the Cultist from “they’re pretty competent” to “oh the Cultist is a fucking idiot,” lmfao.) anyways uhh they’re right but since House of Light came out I have realized that I like playing BoH exactly the same way I play CS, which is to say I hole up in my big weird house for days on end shuffling my card decks and forgetting other people exist, only to be unpleasantly surprised when the season changes and someone shows up at my door. community what community. The Deep Mysteries need to be shelved.

[very mild, largely mechanical House of Light spoilers to follow]

salons are pretty fun once you’ve got enough resources to not feel squeezed about them though. They take a lot of prep and you have to time your invitations correctly so that your visitors arrive while you’re still flush with soul, but I do enjoy the conversation with the guests. and it does feel nice to be able to write to visitors, even if I’m not doing it very often. like the Librarian really is connected to the outside world and not just hopelessly unmoored from other people at Hush House, at the mercy of whoever randomly bothers to make the trek out to Brancrug. I’m still spending most of my money on Unusual Help and haven’t been able to budget much for dishes but I’m almost done unlocking the House and will soon be able to buy much more food. I like that lessons are now functionally infinite and I don’t have to worry about trying to get the timing right for Numa lessons anymore. I’ve not done a lot of incident follow-up (Spencer is coming next Numa and he will be my first) but I think I shall have to prioritize doing more of them. And I shall have to find out if my Numa incident can be followed up on too, once it concludes.

[“how have you been playing for a week and still haven’t concluded any incidents” I am BEING ANTISOCIAL, as previously established.]

i am so sad that Numa visitors don’t leave calling cards. I understand why but the only thing I really wanted from the visitors update was the ability to make Julian Coseley show up whenever I want. 😭 Can you host a salon during Numa if you are careful with your invitation timing?? I will have to check if the Numa guests have food preference aspects.

two final things. 1) please let me buy eggs oh my god. eggs require three soul cards (collect vegetable sack. feed chicken. collect egg from chicken) which considering that the going rate for a soul card at the Sweet Bones is 12p and that you can’t multitask with beasts e.g. feeding Tuppence while collecting from Terrence, makes eggs one of THEE most complicated and expensive ingredients to obtain. It’s more straightforward to collect from the gulls but considering the pull rate is 33% eggs, that’s still basically three soul cards per egg, this time with aspect constraints! I will pay fucking spintriae for eggs, just let me use currencyyyyy. 2) the fucking shelving system is still giving me fits, I think it’s been improved somewhat for the books (I didn’t play the Daymare update so IDK if it was that or HoL) but where the hell am I supposed to put ANYTHING else. When I order all the ingredients I need for cooking, where do they go, the fucking bridge? Gross! Immersion-breaking! I need more pantry space.

(I unfortunately have limited patience for the shelf thing. The most concrete manifestation of my COVID trauma is I can’t STAND irregularly shaped shelves anymore. Circulation dropped by >70% during lockdown and took years to recover. Public library collections are sized with the expectation that a certain percentage of the collection will live with patrons; we were not and still aren’t equipped to house our entire collection in-house. I spent a year of my life jury-rigging shelves to get things to fit. The bane of my existence became shelves so specifically designed for a certain type of media that they couldn’t be extended or repurposed for other things. Having to constantly shuffle books around between ~aesthetic~ little nooks isn’t cute or cozy, it’s just bad fucking library design. When the shelving mechanic on BoH works it’s a thing of beauty but there are simply NOT ENOUGH SHELVES. I just want to fit my reasonably-sized collection on one screen. Also the scrolls should stack on top of each other. Catch my Librarian spending their stipend on ripping out the entire Westcott Room and redoing it for space efficiency)