#but i have thought about this for a very long time LIKE... FIX THE CANON...

[scribeofmorpheus]

Why Dragon Age Veilguard isn't a "Cathedral"

Concept art by Matt Rhodes

"To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals."

What is inherent with Veilguard that keeps bothering me is the fact that the world's choices truly didn't matter--and it doesn't simply bother me from a player perspective, it's not simply a grievance borne of frustration to what I (as a longtime fan) have lost. It's about the very culture of the arts under capitalism's new media habituation cycle [x][x].

Yes, I spent hours of my life playing and replaying each instalment of Dragon Age. Yes, I painstakingly curated a 'canon' world state by replaying what came before in preparation for Veilguard. Yes, I am even more unsatisfied with the end product--time hasn't helped, it's just widened the divide. But, and I can't stress this enough, these very personal gripes aren't what hit home the most. It's the inherent disregard of legacy. A legacy that the previous writers and game developers were building towards.

In the DAV artbook, "cathedral" is the word used to describe the process of making a game. Matt Rhodes' exact words are: "One artist can make a painting, but it takes a team to build a cathedral." Cathedrals took centuries to build. The architect who drafted the first blueprints would likely never see his work realised, he had to rely on those who came after him, like-minded and passionate, to see it through--for the culture, for the future, for legacy. Painters took on several apprentices for this reason too--giant frescoes were not completed by one man's hand, even if it is one man's name that immortalises them. Similarly, if you weave a narrative around choice, what good does it do to take it away at the final act if not to fall to caricature?

To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals.

Late-stage capitalism and profit-margin-obsessed game producers forcing developers to churn out meager content, to make a known brand into something it's not, to chase a fad or a popular trend... o, how reductive and cliche you've been forced to become Bioware. We have lost the cultural thought patterns relative to Cathedrals. We know only of barn-raised churches--done in a day but unlikely to last the turn of the seasons.

And don't even get me started on the music of Veilguard either. From Origins to World of Warcraft to Everquest to Baldur's Gate to Dungeon Siege, you can hear the intricate interconnected weave of sounds inspired by the Dungeons and Dragons-esque fantasy genre. You hear it in the repeated use of certain instruments, in the harmonic weeping notes of a bard-like singer or the foreboding echoes of drums as if of war. In tavern songs. But then, rather than hire someone who loves these worlds and this genre, who is a hungry artist looking to make a name, a legacy if you will, for themselves with a spectacular score, you hire any already sated composer, one well-into the encroaching years of career fatigue, whose notes repeat in countless projects, who feels less concise and more uninterested with each new project. One who has long since cemented his legacy. Someone in it for a paycheck and nothing else! And, to top it off, you let him compose something so minimalist? I am offended actually.

Cathedrals! We should have witnessed the final tile being placed on the Dragon Age cathedral. Instead, some architects walked up, tore down the interior and installed IKEA furniture and called it authentic before having to call the previous architects to come and fix the "load-bearing issues", forcing them to rush and add a coat of varnish and a few 'aged' details for authenticity.

[emeritusemeritus]

Charming Witches [Fred Weasley]

Title: Charming Witches [Fred Weasley]

Pairing: PregnantWife!Reader x Fred Weasley, background Hermione X Ron.

Timeline: Set after canon (Fred lives!)

Summary: Ron has an embarrassing issue and unluckily for him, Fred is the only one that can help.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, babies, established relationships. Sexual references throughout. Fred has a bit of a breeding kink- shock. Just a silly little drabble I couldn’t get out of my mind. Fred is a bit mean and sarcastic to Ron.

Word count: 1.6k

"You're, you know... well, sort of, um."

"You'll get there eventually Ronald," Fred jokes with a straight face, half listening to his brother's whispered fumbles whilst he pours himself and his wife a drink, not bothering to offer his youngest brother one. If Fred had even bothered to look at Ron's face, he'd have seen he was as pink in the cheeks as a bottle of love potion, his blush so vivid that he looked ready to erupt with a face full of dragon pox any moment.

Ron clears his throat, trying again, as he casts a nervous glance around the Burrow's kitchen, checking no one was hearing this. He didn't know why he'd chosen Fred of all people to have this conversation with, in theory George would have been a much better choice but he didn't have the same 'qualifications' as his twin, seeing that you and Fred had been together for absolutely years.

"Well, umm," he freezes under Fred's quick but glance, silently telling him to spit it out. "Well you and y/n, you're in sync aren't you... Sexually?"

Whatever Fred was expecting to hear eventually tumble out of his brother's mouth was not even close to the reality and he can't stop his eyebrows from shooting halfway up his forehead instinctively in disbelief.

"Did my very pregnant wife give it away?" He snarks, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of the beer he'd poured, openly enjoying the discomfort his brother was radiating. "That might have been your first clue."

Ron somehow looks paler underneath all the blushing and Fred is revelling in his ability to make his brother squirm.

"Well, yeah I suppose," Ron mumbles, beginning to get defensive and deeply regretting opening up to the trickier twin.

"Calm down Ronald," Fred says, "you and Granger having bedroom troubles?"

"No!" Ron bites back a little too quickly but his resolve breaks under a few seconds of Fred's probing gaze, arms folded in an unconscious power stance. "Maybe."

He's quiet again for a few moments and Fred is uncharacteristically patient whilst he waits for Ron to collect his thoughts.

"How many times would you say is normal, like in a week?"

"Don't know if there's a 'normal' Ronniekins," Fred says with a shrug. "Most days and twice on a Sunday?"

Though he hides it this time, Fred revels in the look of utter horror Ron's eyes convey and it's like he can see the cogs in his brain working on overdrive, emitting smoke as they crumble and break. Evidently, his answer was light years away from what Ron had hoped for. He knows that his wife being ready to pop at any second only helps Ron believe his words and he mentally thanks Godric Gryffindor himself for the overly fortunate timing.

"Don't think it matters mate really; as long as you're both expecting about the same." This time, Fred actually thinks he's being reassuring.

"She just wants to read all the bloody time, even in bed! It's like I'm a bloody afterthought."

"Have you even met your girlfriend?"

This time it's Fred who pauses when he meets the icy glare of his younger brother. He sighs and a slightly awkward silence falls between the pair as they both try to think of how to fix whatever was going on in Ron's mind, hoping that two head were better than one.

"You two alright?"

Ron jumps out of his skin when he hears your slightly concerned greeting upon seeing the two brothers, Fred especially, in near silence.

"Don't tell me you forgot I was here," you joke to Ron, walking over to Fred as he holds out your waiting drink. "Been your sister in law for five years! Plus the bump makes me pretty memorable," you add with a smile.

"I'll say," Fred says with a wink, the cheeky glint in his eyes ever more sparkling as he looks at your bulging tummy, unashamedly ogling your pregnant form. You gently nudged him, silently telling him to be quiet but as you do so, you catch a slightly glare aimed at your husband from Ron.

"Am I interrupting? " You ask outright, sensing tension.

"No," says Fred almost immediately.

"A bit," Ron admits, cringing slightly before he lets out a loud yelp, having been smacked upside the back of the head by his older brother for his disrespect. He grumbles slightly under his breath, absently rubbing the back of his head where Fred's hand had connected to him and let's put a deep sigh.

"You're a girl," he says, averting his eyes anywhere except directly on your own.

Fred snickers at Ron's feeble and clumsy attempt at starting the conversation but opts to take a long swig of his beverage to avoid anymore laughter spilling out, though his delight still shines through his eyes.

"Only when it's not a full moon," you jest, trying to slice through the awkwardness Ron is emitting.

"Forget it, you're as bad as he is."

"Firstly I'm offended," you say, reaching out for his arm gently as you feel his begin to pull away, ignoring your husband's opposition. "Secondly, yes I'm a girl... go on."

"Well," he pauses, gathering courage, long ginger lashes covering his shy eyes that still raise no further than your ankles, "say Fred suddenly didn't want sex."

"Wouldn't happen."

"Fred shush."

"Well... say suddenly he wanted to read at nighttime over having sex."

"Again, wouldn't happen."

"Fred!" You hush him again, this time more firmly.

"How would you go about trying to, you know, fix it."

You were certain you'd never seen Ron this vividly pink in the cheeks before, he looked like he'd been decorated up to display in Umbridge's office.

"That's the problem? Hermione wants to read instead of sex?" You ask, not really seeing the big issue, but trying to say it gently so that you didn't spook him.

He nods, "but it's all the time," he adds, justifying his gripe.

"Well," you say, lowering yourself into Arthur's seat at the head of the kitchen table only a few feet away, unable to stand much longer. "Play her at her own game."

"Eh?" The brothers ask in sync, their faces scrunched into an almost identical confused expression. You simply shrug.

"Make yourself less available to her, pull back a bit," you say, taking a sip of your drink to wet your lips. "Start reading in bed just like she does, act like you're not interested in just sex."

"So I act like I'm not bothered even though I am?" He asks, still not following what you're saying.

"Sort of," you say, trying to find a better way of wording it.

"Reading's always been her favourite thing to do hasn't it? Join in on it. I'd bet on my life that she has a fantasy of you in bed shirtless reading beside her. Stop making advances, let her come to you."

"That's actually quite clever," he says after a few moments of consideration.

"It's been known."

"Shirtless?" He asks with a frown, seemingly fixating on that point.

You chuckle nodding, "well you have to still appeal to her, you don't want it to just be a study session do you?"

"Right, right," he says with a nod, a slight smile returning to his face before it dramatically falls away in an almost comedic move.

"I don't have a book."

"What do you mean you don't have a book?" Fred says in a flabbergasted manner, earning a slight but unconscious raise of your eyebrow. Though you didn't comment on the irony of his words considering you couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him so much as skim the daily prophet.

"I don't really have one," Ron mumbles quietly, "unless my quidditch annual counts."

"It doesn't," you say firmly.

"So I need a book," Ron says firmly, as if he was cementing the plan in his mind, nodding along with his thoughts until he finally makes eye contact. "Thanks y/n," he says with a smile and a nod of his head before he walks away, a bounce in his step.

"Think it's actually gonna work?" Fred asks as you pry yourself out of the chair and walk to stand next to him as you place your empty cup in the sink.

You let out a little chortle and shrug, "well if it doesn't, at least Hermione can read in peace."

Laughter bursts out of Fred and he pulls you close, bump nestled between you as he delights in your words, realising you had absolutely no idea if the plan would work.

Later that evening when everyone was preparing to leave the Burrow after another wonderful family dinner, Ron pulls you and Fred to one side before he left, away from the eyes and ears of everyone else.

"Thanks again for earlier," he says, clearly feeling more at ease about his issue. You smile warmly in reply, happy to help.

"No problem little brother," Fred beams, as if it was him that had offered any advice.

"Oi Ron," you call out quietly to get his attention as he turns to leave. With a smile, you reach down into the bag on your shoulder and pull out an item you'd gleefully searched for in Fred and George's old bedroom after the conversation. "Just incase my advice doesn't work."

Ron frowns reaching for the item you were handing him, a frown that only deepens as he reads the title of the book he was now holding. Fred's laughter is sudden and booming as his eyes land on the once familiar item that had him cracking up laughing, realising instantly what it was.

Twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches.

"Oh piss off."

Taglist part 1

@ferntv

@aigowen

@that-lame-ghoul9000

@jules-with-stars

@sleepiemocha

@seppys-return-to-madness

@wtvbabes

@the-mrs-malik-styles

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@moonieseyelash

@marisimps

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@70s-chic

@shadyunknowncreation

@rockabieesstuff

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@soulessfictionaddict

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@cryb4by-te4rs

@rainingsky37

@learninglinesintherainn

@autumnboo126

@kpopgirlbtssvt

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of you Red-Hair Pirates: Shanks, Beckman, Hongo edition when? 👉👈😔

I am gonna add a page break because I am not sure how to word what I need to say in a sfw way. Also, thank you for prompting me to really think about these guys, I love it.

Red Hair Pirates

Themes: Shanks x gn!reader, Beckman x gn!reader, Hongo x gn!reader, mdni, smut, 18+, NSFW, head canons on how they engage in intimacy, smutty thoughts.

To me: these three all fuck different.

Shanks: He's flirty, he's fun, he's a soft dom who encourages you to sing out for him as loud as you can be. If you're already loud, he's going to find that spot in you to make you louder. Switching positions, laughing all the way before that mean switch flips. Then he dishes out the most possessive, dominant, and ass-rippling back shots. He's a dirty pirate, and he knows how to handle himself. Showing you just how much strength he has in that remaining arm, he'll hold you down and staple you in heavy, languid drags of his cock deep within your stomach - before rolling you atop him and watching you whine and cry while bouncing on his lap. Planting his heels, he'll buck his hips up to help you out in having that orgasm you're both chasing together. There is no kink he hasn't done, and he is willing to explore anything that takes your fancy so long as he's in charge. He's the captain, after all.

Beckman: The king of cockwarming. He's so patient, and his restraint is hardened in the way he teases. Sure, he's happy to give in and treat you like an animal from time to time, but he wants to take his time about it. There is no quick fixes with this old man, and he knows it. All of his motions are slow and steady, not once picking up his pace no matter how much you beg for it. While Beckman yearns for someone to take care of him, he won't so easily give up that control and let someone shatter his restraint. He also wants to be close to you, sharing breaths with your heads and lips connected. He makes love, and he acts like he has all the time in the world to do it.

Hongo: While he's just as dirty as Shanks is, he has far more restraint when it comes to enjoying you. He wants you to try to make as little noise as you can, letting your body do all the talking for you in the way you snap your hips against his. As the doctor of the Red Hair pirates, he is used to showing a lot of control and seriousness in his actions, but in intimacy: he wants you to take the reigns. He's so tired, almost as tired as Beckman is. Where Beckman refuses to give in, Hongo wants you to top him due to him wanting to be empty-headed of all of those "how, where, when," questions. This doctor wants you to take care of him in the same way he takes care of his crew, and he needs to relax while you both come unravelled.

Conclusion: I am trying to find a way to word the set up in a way I can see them all enjoying the same reader. I don't want a repetition of the Cross-Guild version, and I am very much taking my time to find it. While Buggy, Mihawk, and Crocodile all are so vastly different: they're all possessive about what they want and have that need for control. The Red-Hairs don't, and I want this one to have plot with the smut to follow.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

[virahaus]

Another day, another time to debunk shitty takes I see online.

I've seen a multiple of people pointing out that "we don't know anything about Tommy" and how could people ship him with Buck (nevermind that the ship is canon and always will remain so) when we know so little about him?

First of all, I'd actually make a point to say that we as of now already know more about him then all the other LI that Buck or Eddie ever had in the show.

I shall make you a list, so that you may remember it more easily:

- He likes cars and he's a good mechanic (extrapolated by the fact that Eddie explicitly said that fixed/improved his engine)

- He likes playing basketball and he's also quite competitive ("we'll make short work of them" said in reference of Buck and Chim)

- He's sarcastic (the closet line)

- His favourite film is "Love, Actually"

- He loves Monster Truck and Craft Beer, and MMA

- He has a big scar on his chest and it came from a fire in a factory

- He's a very skilled pilot, able to manoeuvre in a hurrican, and doesn't waver in the face of danger

- He likes watching and practicing Muay Thai

- He was a pilot in the army

- He only came out when he started working in Harbor, but prefers not to publicise his sexuality

- He doesn't like Bella Swan (and it's implied he might like Jacob more) and he watched the Twilight movies

- He likes to drive his friends to events

- He has friends that can get him high up tickets for shows in Vegas

- He has permission to fly airplanes for personal reasons when he's not on the clock

- He likes to be helpful and he's thoughtful (driving Eddie to check out his sprain, going to Buck's to clear out the air without prompt, immediately agreeing in helping the 118 with the whole ship operation, trying to get Buck to be at ease on their date)

- He's loyal (he didn't rat the others out when the chief called on their way to Bobby)

- He's a smooth flirt

- He can do a mean mouth static (at least in his opinion)

- He pays the bill on first dates

- He is very much the definition of carpe diem (kissing buck was very much shooting his shot)

- He checks for consent

- He kept contact with Chim ever after he left the 118

- Chim called him for help in the episode Broken

- He went to the 217 and opened the spot for Buck at the 118

- He participated in the betting pool Hen made on how long Bobby would last at the 118 captain

- He apologises when he's in the wrong and is shown to be able to correct his behaviour

- He doesn't like chickens (lol)

- He likes the film fight club and can quote it

- Implies to have dated people he met on a call

See? We know quite a lot actually. So you may get off your high horse how about that.

I don't think I missed anything but do let me know.

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 4.5

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter warnings: porn with some plot kinda, this yoongi is very horny and is a very methodical masturbator (?) in the way he set the mood for himself (could be canon, amirite), let’s fix that boner you left him with, and let’s soothe your weary minds from that Dispatch article, POV switch after the article headline, idk if you know that one video of yoongi in d-day during the piano break in life goes on he does this thing with his tongue… it’s written in here somewhere

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.5k

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: December 15, 2024

✎ ˎˊ˗ A/N: Surprise! I kid you not, this was written within a span of like 8 hours? So if it sucks, that’s probably why, lol. Lucky for y’all I am too impatient to wait for notes milestones before I upload the next part, so here you go. 🎁 Also, @glossdebut, you know what you did. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |  Masterlist

“Fuck me…” Yoongi sighs, leaning further back into the computer chair. He runs both hands through his hair as the preliminary pinpricks of pleasure makes his cock spring to life under his sweatpants.

His phone is now propped on his half-empty coffee mug, of which the screen—maxed out in its brightness settings—is projecting the photo you sent through its 2x dynamic galaxy amoled display—of which his dick would personally like to thank his Samsung sponsors.

He is so horny he might just die if he doesn’t get off in the next five minutes. 

It’s your fault. Of course, it is.

God you’re so fucking sexy, do you even know that? Do you even realize what you do to him? He is literally about to masturbate in his multi-million won worth studio to the pitiful pixels you have afforded him with.

He stands up, curses you under his breath as he pulls his pants down to pool around his ankles. He drops to his chair, about to slip a clammy hand inside his boxers when he decides to adjust the view juuuust a little, zooming the photo closer…closer…  and that’s it.

Just the view he needs. (Sue him for having astigmatism.)

He grabs the aircon remote and adjusts the temp to a balmy 24 ‘cause it’d be hella annoying if he can’t get hard because his studio is an igloo.

Some velvety track with soft percussions filter out from his speakers.

A pump of lube from his hidden drawer, wet wipes at the ready for the inevitable clean up, and he’s off to the fuckin’ races. 

His fist wraps the base of his cock, coating his entire shaft with the gel. It's cold, but it immediately warms up to his body temperature as his palm slides up and down his semi. 

Greedy eyes rake your body on his phone screen. Your tits. They’re a vision. He can see just the ghost of your nipples, peaking in the slightest way against your silky top and suddenly his mouth is dry. What would they look like if they’re not hiding from him? For sure they’re puffy. Pretty jet-puffed marshmallows that he’s gonna be putting in his mouth and sucking until you’re falling apart and creaming with just that. He smirks. Yeah, he could do that.

He tugs at his cock faster, licking his bottom lip as he imagines the texture of your pebbled nipples against his tongue. He shivers, increasing the pace of his ministrations, cock now fully hard.

Back to the photo.

Huh. You knew what you were doing—squeezing your breast with your hand. The way the mound of flesh is about to spill over, and your areola is just kissing the edge of the fabric is actually killing him. It’s diabolical. Pure torture.

Had you been here, he’s scooping out that breast, the one you’re holding out to him, so it’s hanging generously from your top, wobbling as he bounces you on his fat dick. 

He feels his eyes crossing, caught in the spell of the hypnotic movements playing out in his mind. He moves his hand faster, cock throbbing and aching for release.

But he’s not there yet.

Closing his eyes, Yoongi lets himself sink back into the memory, rewinding the moments from just hours ago. The sensation of your weight against him is the first thing he recalls—the way your ass fits so perfectly in his lap, warm and soft, like you were made to be there. The way your body had melted into his touch, so pliant, so eager, grinding slightly like you were inviting him to ruin you, and he was more than willing to oblige.

Your lips—he can still taste them if he focuses hard enough—sweet, intoxicating, like the lingering memory of his favorite whisky. And your neck, the way it arched so perfectly for him, leaving him no choice but to press his mouth against it, the faint hint of your skin still ghosting on his lips even now.

If he concentrates, he can almost smell you again, that sweet, delicate perfume that drove him insane. It’s like you’ve imprinted yourself on him. Or maybe it’s the faint traces of your scent that linger on his hoodie, the one you pressed yourself into while straddling him and he could feel the perfect ass against his crotch. 

The thought is enough to send his pulse ticking faster, his head leaning back against the chair as a low, frustrated groan escapes him. He needs you. Fervently. Urgently. Needs you like he has never needed another person ever. 

Jaw slack, tongue dangling from the corner of his mouth, he imagines licking your nipples from side to side and his mouth stretches into a smile. He can almost hear you moan oh yoongi and wow what an ego boost to have you unraveling for him when in reality it’s he who is actually unraveling in his own damn hands. His cock is getting heavier, balls tighter at his impending demise. He tugs and tugs, collecting some of the lube that gathered on the base and pushing it back towards his angry tip, concentrating his movements there.

You’re not in the room but you might as well be with the way your name keeps tumbling from his lips. He is whining like a little bitch in heat, but he doesn’t give a shit. He hasn’t had a satisfying jerk-off like this in a while. He can’t even remember sex being this good. Nothing remotely like the way this fog of lust has him ascending to another plane of existence right now, because you’re so fucking sexy and so good to him and he likes you so damn much and suddenly he’s coming, warm spurts of cum oozes from his throbbing cock decorating his fingers like the rings he used to wear to the knuckle, and fuck he’s still going, there’s so much and god dammit his boxers are soaked but it feels phenomenal.

Chest heaving as if he ran a marathon, he stares at his ceiling, waiting for his heart rate to slow down.

Not long after, he laughs at his stupidity, pulling a wipe from the packet and proceeds to clean up. He sobers up from his horny thoughts, but not by a whole lot. Not when the photo that started it all is still bright and beautiful from his phone. Shit. He cannot wait to fuck you for real. 

Little did he know, something was gonna fuck him up come morning.

AllKpop Scoop:

Confirmed: SUGA of BTS Dating Actress Lee Sung Kyung

Eagle-eyed fans are convinced the duo has been hiding their relationship in plain sight, pointing to their undeniable chemistry during a past Suchwita episode, where sparks were reportedly flying between the two.

The story was everywhere. News sites, entertainment shows, gossip columns, social media—each one milking it for all it was worth. 

Darling of the press, K-drama royalty, multi-awarded thespian Lee Sung Kyung, had resurfaced from her mysterious hiatus, and of course, the headlines couldn’t resist pairing her name with “infamous idol Min Yoongi.” You roll your eyes so far back your head they almost didn’t come back.

The South Korean media was having an absolute field day.

And as much as it hurt to see it, your first instinct wasn’t to dwell on the sting of the rumors. It was to scan every word, every post, every thread, checking if Haneul had been dragged into the mess.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been. You’d be devastated if your little sarang had been implicated in any of these stories. You don’t know the first thing about how to protect the poor baby from these trolls, but you will be damned if you don’t try.

The photo that sparked the frenzy was everywhere—a shot of Sung Kyung leaving Yoongi’s Hannam apartment. That was it. No Yoongi, no Haneul, not even a hint of context. Never mind that the building housed countless tenants or that there was zero proof they were together. It was enough to send the internet spiraling into speculation.

You were scrolling through the comments under one of the reposts, your stomach churning at the sheer creativity of the assumptions being thrown around, when your screen suddenly switched to an incoming call.

Yoongi.

You didn’t hesitate, swiping to pick up almost immediately.

“Sarang,” he starts, his voice soft and familiar, like he already knows he needs to tread lightly. Bro’s really starting with the buttering up.

“Where’s Han?” Was your first question.

“My parents drove him up to Daegu this morning. It’s better if he’s there for now.”

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temple as you sit back. “Just answer one question, Yoongi: is it true or not?”

“It’s a big fuckin’ lie,” he says without missing a beat, his voice steady and firm. “None of it is true.”

“So it’s all bullshit?”

“YES.” he replies emphatically.

The tension in your shoulders eases slightly, and you exhale, nodding to yourself. This is fine for now. “Okay.”

“Okay?” There’s a note of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t expecting you to let it go so easily.

“Yes. Just get your ass here by 7 and not a minute later.” You say, firm.

A pause. Then, with the faintest hint of a chuckle, he replies, “Yes, ma’am.”

A/N: So???? I don't know what that first part was. It just took a life of its own. Anyway, as per ush, please let me know what you thought about the chapter. Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading this, you lovely, beautiful human xo

See you in the next half! :)

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[acid-ixx]

(masterlist &. synopsis) gn! chronically ill reader with a platonic! yandere batfam who accepts their pampering

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: sorry for the on and off hiatus ^^ i am very much invested in dc and altho i have only read a few comics, i try to be very close to canon with this one. this was written with POTS in mind but the illness is vague for the purpose of inclusivity !! requests will be open soon enough once i fix my account up and add request rules. keep in mind, the reason why i would be posting separate headcanons is because i plan for each of them to be longer than usual.

just imagine life with platonic! yandere batfam after their initial kidnapping. they've abducted you after a few months of stalking, gathering every bit of information about you from either the long or short times you've talked to them, or from watching you from afar at your most vulnerable state inside your very much hidden-camera-free apartment (lies. they have cameras implanted in every crevice of your room and even tampered with security cameras in the entire building just to ensure ultimate surveillance for you!)— it may be illegal, sure, no kidding it is, but they promise it's for your safety (and well-being) and nothing else! (other than the fact that they needed to know everything about you to guarantee your permanent stay with them would be stress-free and enjoyable not only in their eyes but yours too, especially since you require more needs than the average person but, ah! you just perfectly captured the attention of the most capable people who would bend the rules of the universe just for you.

everything was very much an elaborate scheme to get you to easily submit to their whims without a single fibre of fight in your bones. they have your entire room set up; ones with the comfiest sheets, a room where fresh, unpolluted air is accessible through baby-proofed windows— and you can even keep your (hacked) phone to call them whenever you need something. really, you have everything you need! all you have to do is accept their proposal... though, they wouldn't mind being patient either way.

what they didn't know was that they didn't even need to go through so much effort to keep you from escaping. hell, it's like the moment your eyes blink the tiredness away, and your brain registers the entirely new (and bigger) space you were in, it's like you merely accepted your fate.

you're creepily greeted with almost the exact same copy of your room, except the blanket you know and love with the same color, same design, same smell doesn't feel, or much less have the same texture as your previous blanket. in fact the fabric is way more high quality, the texture doesn't overstimulate you as much as the sheets you were used to back at home. the lights aren't as bright, in fact it was a welcoming shade that blends in well with the natural light that floods through the windows— windows that welcome in the faintest scent of floral growth, fresh and unlike the polluted air of gotham that you were never accustomed to.

before you could even force your body to sit up, joints a tad bit heavier and your mind cloudier than before, a soft knock disrupts your train of thought. the door opens and you are greeted with a butler and... even stranger, bruce wayne with his other children in tow.

[tallykale]

episode 19

as you can probably tell, i've thought a lot about what post-canon one would look like in my vision... i've said before that i have issues with straightforward fix-its, and i do genuinely love the tragic open-ended conclusion that the series has, but i... am not immune to playing with characters like dolls LOL

here's some writeups about where everyone is at mentally in these pictures. please please please PLEEEASE feel free to ask me more about this cuz i love talking about my beautiful mind palace

charlotte: somehow the most optimistic person in here, mostly out of necessity. when she died, she saw parker leading her out of a cave as her waiting room and was about to take his hand when airy respawned her, so she has a brief moment of bonding with bryce when he talks about the waiting room and seeing stella. with the knowledge that there is potentially a way to get out (bryce and liam being the proof) and the fear of rotting away again she is by far the most actively motivated to help liam figure out the computer. a lot of her days are spent talking to liam over the mic and writing out the code in the dirt so she can try to understand it. she still has to push against her natural misanthropy (and often shouts at liam or bryce for being fucking stupid and useless) but both working on the code and helping amelia give her something concrete to focus on outside herself. she wants to get home so she can make amends with her friends. charlotte is scared of dying! she's really genuinely horribly scared of dying and has awful vivid nightmares about rotting away. she often pushes amelia into talking about her life which causes some tension, but it's because she really hates seeing amelia lose herself like that - a metaphorical rotting away of the self.

subway seat & atom: not on the same level of pure existential depression as the batch 1 contestants, but they both feel the hopeless mood pretty harshly regardless. subway feels very lonely as the only hidden object still 'awake', and likes to carry whippy creamy around rather than just leave him sitting on the ground constantly. tray is too big and unwieldy for him to do that with, but he 'hangs out' with her anyway, talking to her and whippy creamy in the hopes that it'll get them to want to wake up again. atom doesn't talk much, but he still carries his piece of grass. he's definitely the person who's the least affected by the prospect of being stuck on the plane forever, since he… doesn't really perceive existence in the same way as everyone else? he's an atom. but his time in the competition definitely made him view everyone else as friends, and he feels even more powerless than usual in the face of this incomprehensibly difficult problem.

amelia: falls into total hopelessness when bryce rejoins, basically seeing it as the final sign that they're never going home. still calls everyone their competition names (she actually gets into a big fight with bryce about it lol). she gets really clingy and dependent on bryce when he first comes back but it crashes and burns pretty quickly when, during an argument, bryce tells her how much he wishes he could just go back and never have let liam in and forgot about everything… which really sucks for amelia to hear, given that she's part of that everything. after that, with bryce isolating himself, she's kind of reliant on charlotte to keep her going. she blames liam for airy dying and secretly kind of thinks he killed him but just isn't telling them… she also doesn't really believe there's any way of getting out and is just kind of waiting around to die of, like, old age i guess. after how long she's been here, amelia is convinced that she has nothing to even go back to and frequently forgets details about her life. regularly cries and hates being alone. the shift markings on the side of the water tub have changed from being a way to keep track of time and stay sane to a horrible reminder of how long they've been here and how much longer of an eternity they have before them.

bryce: hates himself and liam and airy and the plane and his entire stupid fucking life. bryce is really, really fucking pissed off at liam for losing the notes and letting texty die and every other mistake he's made, and isn't shy about telling him that. as well as being angry, he's also incredibly miserable, because he was finally starting to turn his life around (he quit drinking after the plane) and now it's all for nothing - and even worse, those 7 months he spent getting better were 7 months he did nothing to help the rest of them, especially amelia. he's horribly guilty about that, and that he didn't tell amelia about the fake votes before he was eliminated… but finds it easier to just let liam take the heat for that one at first. after he fights with amelia about it he becomes a bit of a hermit, hanging out by himself next to the plug, and never responds when liam tries to talk. contemplates suicide regularly but pretty much the only option is drowning himself, and the idea of that still scares him more than staying like this forever. would kill for a beer.

liam: tortured by horrible guilt every day over a million different things. these include getting bryce pulled back into this (plus delayed guilt over getting him for real killed), letting texty die and not saying anything about the charger, not telling amelia that everything was fake, knowing that charlotte is going to die if he doesn't get really smart really fast… he's frequently gripped by fits of rage where he almost smashes the computer and has to hobble around outside with the axe for a while to blow off steam. he has really bad nightmares and dissociative episodes, made worse by the isolation and spending hours in a dark cave. liam really wants to fix things with everyone but genuinely has no idea how to start that conversation. he assumes airy killed himself (and views it as an unforgiveably cowardly move) and directs a lot of resentment towards him. he has a lot of things he wants to say, especially to bryce, but the fact that he cant talk to anybody one on one makes things difficult. spends a lot of time just reading through the code, too afraid to actually make any changes in case everyone explodes, but talking it through with charlotte at least makes him feel like he's doing something. more than he would like to admit, liam catches himself staring at the plane as if it's a simulation or a livestream.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

When the Levee Breaks pt.1

pairing: Remus Lupin x reader

tags / warnings: friends to lovers fluff then smut, mutual pining, smoking weed (be responsible irl), high sex, explicit descriptions of oral (f receiving), fem!reader

NSFW notes: A LARGE PORTION OF THIS FIC IS NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS; DO NOT READ IT IF IT ISN'T APPROPRIATE FOR YOU! HOWEVER, because such a long portion (like 2/3) has no sexual material (except for the implication at the very beginning), i have clearly marked where it becomes NSFW in case any age-appropriate readers want to read only up to that point (i know some people just want fluff not smut even if they're of age, and that's so chill); i will say there is drug use before then, so still adult material, but fluffy around that; please please be responsible for your content consumption

random notes: set in the late 70's / early 80's, following canon of when the marauders would've met but the rest of the world building (e.g. au) left ambiguous title inspired by a song on one of the albums mentioned idk why this turned out similar to The Prettiest Star with Sirius Black, but i guess my fantasy is just to listen to music intensely with someone then fuck lovingly lol

word count: 6.4k

hope you enjoy! thank you if you read it! 🫶

You watch as his long fingers, practiced and adept, roll the spliff. You liked this part. You could stare at his hands under the guise of watching the rolling. Remus didn’t have to know how far from pot your mind wandered when you did. He didn’t have to know it made you wonder every time what else he could do with this fingers. Imagine how they would feel on you. In you. 

At the thought, you squirm where you’re seated on his settee next to him. He chuckles in a low tone. 

“Antsy?” 

“No.” 

He can tell you’re lying. You can tell he can tell. But you don’t care. As long as he can’t tell why you’re lying, it doesn’t matter, and you can keep wriggling.

“Whatever you say, jitterbug.” 

Your wringing hands catch his attention, and his eyes fix on them even as his hands continue their work. 

“Next time, you’re rolling it,” he says through a smile. “There’d be nothing left to smoke by the time you finished shaking it everywhere,” he laughs, too amused with himself, giggling as if he were already high. 

“Remus?” you start, and he shakes his head and chuckles, loving how you get when he teases you. 

“What?” he smiles, eyebrows shooting up at you, both a welcome and a challenge for you to say whatever you’re about to. 

“Can you remind me who provided this wonderful gift on this wonderful afternoon?” You shake the baggy you brought to his flat not 15 minutes ago. 

He laughs, now nodding, and concedes, “You’re right, sunshine. I should be so grateful.”

Remus brings the spliff to his mouth to lick the edge of the paper, and your retort gets caught in your throat as you fixate on his tongue. 

A bit too late, a bit too quiet for your usual banter, you say, “You should be, Moons. I can still take it home and smoke by myself.”

“Oh now I’ve rolled it for you, yeah? Didn’t realize you were just here for my services. Should’ve known you were just pretending to love me till you got what you wanted.” He holds up his finished work — a beauty really — in front of you as he finishes his joke. You hum affirmatively, taking it from him and looking it over. 

You inspect it exaggeratedly and with a theatrical sense of casual satisfaction tell him, “Hm, not bad. I was starting to regret the long con, but I think this was worth it.” 

He’s giggling as he gets up, bumping his body against yours before he does, going toward his record collection. He walks over lazily, unhurriedly, his bare feet quiet on the floor, his hand coming up to mess with his hair. His loose, comfy clothes do a lot to hide the muscles you know are lean but strong underneath.

“Come help me choose,” he says over his shoulder as he falls to one knee to scan a lower shelf. Almost a whole wall of his small apartment is covered in shelves, boxes, stacks of records. It looks a mess, but it’s actually meticulously organized by release date.

You follow him, come up just behind him. You crouch, too, not all the way down like him. You lean on him, resting your head atop his, bringing your arms around his shoulders and neck. 

He moans casually, seeming happy, and grabs your arms where they fall across his chest. 

“Oh, Rem. You should know…”

“Hm?” he asks, looking up at you. You look down at him, seeing his warm smile upside down. 

“This is the real reason I’ve pretended to be your friend all these years,” you fake seriousness as you nod toward the records. Remus rolls his eyes, but his smile stretches further across his lovely face. It pulls on a long scar that runs down his cheek. 

“And may I ask how you knew when we were eleven that one day I would own such an epic collection?” 

“Easy. You wore a Led Zeppelin t-shirt one of the first days we knew each other.”

He’s taken aback by your giving an actual answer. 

“Did I really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, smiling down at him. The warmth of reminiscing about those childhood years softening you. 

“I think I remember that shirt,” he smiles nostalgically. “How do you remember that?” He twists in your embrace, coming to sit on the floor and pulling you with him. You’re sitting close to each other, and he’s watching you, rapt. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I remember being so nervous and lonely at the beginning. Wanting to make friends. And you seemed nice, so I noticed you.” You shrug again, look down for a moment, not wanting to express embarrassment at a more honest recollection: you had a crush on him immediately, even back then, even before you were really sure what it was you were feeling — that came with the years that followed. “The day you wore that shirt, it was like something familiar I could latch onto. Someone who liked something I liked.” Remus is smiling adoringly at you. Listening as intently as he is, looking as giddy, he looks like a child at the greatest story time ever from his seat on the floor. 

“I even tried to talk to you about it,” you confess, cringing teasingly at yourself.

“Yeah?” He sits up straighter like a puppy hearing someone at the door. 

“Yeah,” you exhale. 

“I don’t remember that happening.”

“That’s because it didn’t,” you laugh. “I said tried to talk to you. I got too nervous and ran to hide before I could get the words out.” 

He’s shaking his head in disbelief, his smile still plastered on his face.

“I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed you yet.” Remus looks especially contemplative for a moment then hums, biting his lower lip. “It’s crazy. Trying to think of my life before you is like remembering a blank canvas.” 

Your cheeks warm and so does your heart. 

You’re smiling a beaming smile at him but say, “There wasn’t much to notice. I was pretty quiet. And besides, your attention probably couldn’t handle a single thing more given you were getting to know Sirius and James.” He laughs lightly at the good memories but shakes his head at you a little more pronouncedly. 

“I’m sure there was a lot to notice. I was just an idiot. And quiet, too. By comparison to that lot anyway. They spoke enough for the three of us. I probably would’ve wimped out if I’d tried to talk to a pretty girl like you back then.” The edges of his entrancing brown eyes crinkled from his smile. “I mean… to be honest… I’d get nervous for a while, talking to you at first.”

“You didn’t,” you tease but secretly really want to hear more.  

“I did, yeah. Of course I did,” he laughs at himself. “I had a big crush on you. James and Sirius wouldn’t let me live it down for ages.” 

You’re shocked at this news. And maybe your face shows it. What it doesn’t show is how desperately your mind is racing, questioning: “Wait, could things have been otherwise? Did he actually like me as more than a friend at some point? Did I ruin it somehow?”

Remus tenses slightly, his smile no longer reaching his eyes, which are attentive at your reaction. 

“That was a long time ago,” he jokes to fill the silence that is beginning to stretch too long, his tone awkward.

“What happened?” you whisper, unable to help it. 

He takes a second to answer, like he doesn’t know what to say. He’s searching your face, and you’re not sure how much he can read there. 

He shrugs. His face gives an “I don’t know” scowl. He’s trying to escape answering, but you don’t let him.

“Remus,” you laugh and shove him playfully. 

“I don’t know,” he giggles. “I don’t know. Then I got to know you I guess. And we became friends.” 

You give a scoffy laugh. You know he probably didn’t mean it that way, but your stomach sinks at the idea that getting to know you would remedy him of his crush. You’re staring at the floor when his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey, you okay?” He’s trying to keep the playful atmosphere, but you hear true concern in his tone. “Did I say something I shouldn’t’ve?”

You want to say “yes,” but you wouldn’t be able to tell him which part. So, you don’t say anything.

“I didn’t think you’d mind, after all these years,” he says more softly.

“No, Rem. Of course I don’t mind.” You shake your head as if dismissing the idea, attempting a laugh that still comes out strained. “I was just surprised is all.” 

He’s watching you, nodding subtlety, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 

“Let’s choose something, yeah?” you nod next to you toward the wall, desperate to redirect attention.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Remus turns toward the records, skimming across his stacks. A thought catches him, and he moves purposefully toward a different shelf.

“What are you thinking?” you notice, your interest piqued. 

“1971,” he says as if it’s an answer. It is to you. 

1971: the year you met. 

He pulls out a well-worn record, and the strain on your smile finally dissipates to easy delight. You come stand next to him, and he hands it to you. 

“Do you remember how much we listened to that then?” he asks. 

“How could I forget,” you smile, your fingers tracing the cover of Led Zeppelin IV. 

It came out November 1971, but neither of you could get it till at least a month later, during Christmas break from school. When you finally did, the two of you listened to it nonstop. You absolutely loved the album, but you knew you listened to it that much because it was an easy excuse to hang out with Remus. You’d been listening to music together, often just the two of you, ever since.

“Fuck, I remember we’d listen to it in my room,” Remus reminisces. “And even Sirius, the biggest Zeppelin fan of us all, couldn’t take it anymore,” he laughs. “He’d turn it off when he found us listening to it, scolding us for ‘abusing a sacred thing.’”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Oh, look at this,” Remus startles you, excited. He pulls another record off the same shelf.

“This is too perfect,” he giggles. “I didn’t remember this came out then,” he muses, looking it over. “Probably didn’t get my hands on it till much later, I guess. But it’s like it was made for us. For you.” He hands you Just As I Am by Bill Withers, but you still don’t get what he’s saying. He sees your confused look and chuckles. “Second track,” he hints. Your eyes land on “Ain’t No Sunshine.” 

“Sunshine”: Remus’s nickname for you for years. You had Sirius to thank for it actually. He’d said you and Remus were like yin and yang. And since you all already called him “Moony,” you had to be “Sunny.” The other three of you cringed at the sound of that, so he tried “sunshine” instead, conceding it was close enough, and it stuck. Over the years, Sirius and James used it less and less, Remus more and more.

“It’s your song,” Remus urges, knocking his shoulder against yours. “There literally can’t be sunshine when you’re gone because you are sunshine.” He sounds too excited, and it’s adorable. 

“You sound like Sirius saying he’s serious,” you tease. He just laughs and takes the record back.

“Whatever, grumpy. It’s an epic song, and you know it, and now it’s yours, and I don’t care if that’s cheesy.”

“I love it,” escapes you, teasing tone gone. His eyes snap to yours, and he looks at you warmly.

“Alright, sunshine,” he whispers. A beat. “Wanna listen to it?” he asks, voice almost normal again. You nod gladly then go back to the sofa as he sets it up.

Remus soon comes back and joins you. He grabs the spliff from between stacks of snacks you’d prepared for the afternoon then looks over at you.

“Ready, sunshine?”

“Mhhm.”

“You do the honours.” He hands it to you and grabs the lighter. Rather than handing that to you too, he lights it for you as it dangles from your parted lips. 

You take a long drag, feeling it enter you and welcoming it. You cough lightly as you exhale slowly. You are no novice but are still always a cougher. Remus still always giggles when you do, but it’s never mocking. He has a glass of water ready for you, knowing you well, always looking after you. You trade him the water for the spliff, which he proceeds to hit with equal enthusiasm and less wheezing.  

You pass it back and forth for a little while. It’s strong stuff and just three hits in, you feel it engulfing you. The settee feels softer; the music sounds better. 

“Ain’t No Sunshine” is playing, and in your dazed state, you’re sure this is going to be the peak of the album even if it doesn’t coincide with the peak of your high. You close your eyes, and you can feel the music on your skin. 

Remus chuckles next to you, and your face turns to him.

“You look so stoned right now,” he explains, giddy. 

“That’s because I am,” you laugh. Once you start laughing it’s hard to stop; once Remus joins, it’s almost impossible. 

You chat easily, observations and jokes from both of you greatly benefitting from the induced assistance. Remus has a revelation about your listening to HI-fi while high. Your mind is blown multiple times at how deep the lyrics are. 

“They’re all talkin’ at him, but he doesn’t hear a word they’re sayin’, Moons! Not a word! I should do that,” you tell him as if it’s the most urgent thing in the world. He cracks up. “He’s so right, you know? Gotta keep the sun shining through the pouring rain, you know?”

“Uh-huh, I know, sunshine, I know,” he just laughs at you.

“You have such a nice smile, Moony,” you observe, dazed just as much from the feelings perambulating through your system than the pot doing the same.

“Yeah?” he asks, exaggerating it till he’s all teeth and squinty eyes. 

“Yeah,” you laugh. “It looked funny upside down over there,” you remember. “Watch!” 

You flip over on the sofa till your feet are up where your neck should rest and your head is dangling off the edge where your knees would normally be. You smile up at him. Remus doubles over laughing with you, bringing his face much closer to yours as he leans into it. 

“You’re right. Looks funny,” he tells you much more softly than you expected after his cackling. He watches you intently then brings a hand to your upside down face. He traces your features lightly, and it’s warm and tingly. His long finger travels down your nose, across your eyebrows. 

“C’mere,” you whisper to him.

“Where?” he whispers back, his voice a gruff chuckle again. 

“Down here!” you whisper-yell. 

You pull his shoulder down and start kicking his legs up as he contorts until you get him in the same position as you. You end up side by side, upside-down on the sofa. 

Each of you giggles at the other as you steal side glances. Your faces, pulled the wrong way by gravity, softened more than normal by the smoking, look even goofier through your incessant giggles and pointless efforts at holding those back.

You listen, and laugh, to at least a whole song like this. You kick each other’s feet throughout. As one of your kicks brings you closer to Remus, he rolls over to tickle you. You laugh so loud you can’t even hear the record over it. 

“Stop, Rem! Stop!” you plead. “I’m already too dizzy.” 

He keeps it up a moment but soon takes pity on you and helps move your body the right way around, his strong hands manipulating you easily. 

“Alright, dizzy. Enough upside-down,” he says as he fixes your now crazy hair. 

You just nod and shift closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he shuffles to a comfortable height for you, laying his own head on yours. 

A primary reason you enjoy getting high with Remus: you both get snuggly. You’re touchy normally, even more than most best friends you’ve seen, but not overly so. When you’re high, it’s overly so. But it somehow doesn’t feel weird. In fact, it feels wonderful. 

So, it feels wonderful, not weird, when you absentmindedly reach over for his hand. He gives it to you easily, and you begin caressing it. 

“Your skin is so soft, Rem.” You pull his hand closer to you, bringing it close to your face, looking it at like you’ve never seen a hand before. Remus takes the opportunity and quickly grabs at your nose playfully. You giggle at this as he responds to your initial comment.

“In between all the scars maybe.” He sounds matter of fact. There’s a lot less pain in his voice now when he talks about them than when he did in your younger years. You look forward to the day when you hear no pain there at all. 

“No, the scars too,” you correct him gently, and you bring your thumb to a scar that runs from the top of his hand up to his forearm. You trace it with reverence, and he shivers at your touch. You know for a fact you’re the only person in the world he allows to touch them. You’re so grateful for his trust, and in this moment, your emotions heightened, your inhibitions lowered, the vibrations of the music moving through you, you feel the need to tell him so. 

“Thank you for letting me touch you, Moony.” 

Remus has been watching where your hands are connected until now, but at your words, he looks into your eyes. He just looks at you for a long moment. You can’t tell how long, time elongated and indeterminable in your current state, but you’re completely comfortable to sit in it through its entirety, looking straight back at him. 

Eventually, the softest grin blossoms on his face. You mirror it. 

“Thank you for not being afraid to,” he whispers. You genuinely don’t understand. 

“Why would I be?”

“You know what I mean,” he tries to explain. He looks down in shyness but back at you before continuing, “Maybe ‘afraid’ isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s ‘disgusted’ or something…” 

His voice is fading to a low whisper by the end, like the louder the words are the truer they’ll be. 

Without hesitating, you tell him the truth: “Remus, you’re the least disgusting person in the world. You’re beautiful.” He grimaces like he can’t believe you, so you go on. “You are.” 

You turn your body even more toward him, bringing your connected hands to your almost shared lap and bringing your other hand to caress his cheek. 

“Silly Moony. You’re so sickeningly beautiful,” you chuckle. Your hand runs up through his hair. “This hair is ridiculous,” you inform him, tousling it. He leans into your touch like a content puppy. “These eyes.” You trace circles around each of them, first skimming his eyebrows then looping around. “They’re the easiest thing in the world to melt into, no pot needed.” You feel them crinkle as they smile into your compliments. “This nose.” You trace it slowly. “These lips,” you say more softly. You feel his gasp when you touch them then feel nothing, his breath held as you trace them. “And your scars,” you say with some finality. You trace a prominent one across his face. He closes his eyes while you do, opens them again when you reach its end. “You beauty isn’t one to be ruined by scars, Remus Lupin. Your beauty is the kind that incorporates the scar and makes that beautiful too.” 

Remus squeezes your interlaced hands. Your faces are so close to each other that you could see his eyes moisten as you tell him all this. He closes them before full tears form and moves his face that tiny bit closer till his forehead rests on yours. You nuzzle his nose, and he nuzzles yours back. 

“It’s so quiet,” you whisper, breaking the silence — noticing the silence. You didn’t notice when the album ended.  Remus just hums in response. 

The silence is loaded but peaceful. You don’t want to pressure him into having to say something back after you let yourself get so intense with him. It wasn’t about what he said back; it was about his understanding how you saw him, how you hoped he would see himself. 

So, with his eyes still closed, you give the scar that runs across his nose a light kiss, do the same to another larger one across his jaw. Then you bring your head back to his shoulder, snuggling into him to mark the end of the moment, no further pressure necessary. 

Remus shifts his body closer, as close to you as possible. He brings his arm around your shoulders without letting go of your hand. He’s holding you close, and your arm crosses your chest to keep your hands intertwined. He kisses the top of your head — new, sweet — then rests his own there again — familiar, warm. Your thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of his hand. 

You sit together in the quiet a long while. You close your eyes, breathe Remus in, let his body, his presence envelop you then just bask in it. Everything feels pleasantly heavy — the air, his body where it touches yours.

You settle into him, and without your noticing you’re doing it, your hand on his stills. 

“Don’t stop,” he whispers. 

“Hm?” you need to ask, unsure what he means. You look up, and he looks down, and your faces are a breadth away from each other. 

“I liked how you were touching me,” he whispers. “I always like how you touch me,” he adds like a secret. 

He brings his hand that’s not holding yours up to your face. First, the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheekbone then he rests his hand there. His fingers hold your jaw; his thumb caresses your cheek. Like you tend to do, you lean into his touch. 

His gentle, soothing touch flutters your eyes closed. Your inability to see his face makes it less scary to respond, “I always like how you touch me too.”

“Yeah?” he sighs, his hand holding you a bit more tightly, his thumb coming down to graze your bottom lip. You nod slowly, his hand moving with your head.

“Do you ever think about other ways we could touch each other?” he whispers. Your eyes fly open at this and land on his: lidded, dilated, gazing into your own. 

“Do you?” 

“I asked you first,” he giggles. “And I’ve already told you a secret today. It’s your turn.”

“What secret?” Your voices are still soft, whispering even though there’s no need for quiet other than your intimacy demanding it. 

“About my crush.” 

“I had a crush on you too,” you tell him. “So now we’re even.”

“That’s not fair, sunshine,” he smiles. You smile back. 

Then, after a moment, like he can’t help it, “You did?” 

“Of course I did.” 

“What happened?” he echoes. 

“Nothing,” you confess. 

His eyebrows furrow, unsure how to interpret this. His eyes hold hope and trepidation at once. 

“I got to know you… And we became friends…” you continue. His expression falls, and you’re pretty sure you recognize this look as disappointment. But you go on, “And it made me love you all the more.” 

You’re ready to read his expression closely this time, but you don’t get the chance before he’s kissing you, before you’re kissing back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NSFW beyond this point ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s slow. Deliberate. His lips push on yours; his arms bring you closer. His tongue teases your lips, and though they part in response, his tongue traces them rather than push in. You whimper at the feeling of it, and he moans at your reaction. He breathes you in, covers your whole mouth with his, devouring the sound, devouring you. 

Now his tongue enters your mouth, exploring, playing with yours. You’re not sure whether his movements are slow or whether they just feel slow because you’re still high. You are sure you have no desire to speed any of it up. 

You bring your hands to either side of his face, holding him gently but pulling him to you. He follows easily, and when your chests are almost flush, you trace your hands down to his shirt and pull him on top of you as you lean back, lying down on the sofa.

You keep kissing a deliciously long while then Remus goes beyond your lips, kissing along your jaw leisurely. He mouths at your skin, licking, nipping his way unhurriedly down to your neck. Here he languidly runs his tongue along the length of your neck, kissing your pulse point, nipping behind your ear. 

Everywhere he touches is buzzing, and you shiver at the sensation. When his breath blows cold air on your now wet skin, you shiver even harder, your body shuddering against his above you. He chuckles into the crook of your neck and continues. 

After another while of his working his way down, he has to pull the neck of your shirt down to reach further. You bare your neck to him, loving his exploratory path. 

When his mouth leaves your skin for the first time in several minutes, your impulse is to immediately pull him back to you.

“Let’s take this off,” he whispers sedately, gruffly, tugging at your top. 

You pull it off and don’t waste time unclasping and sliding your bra off as well. Remus looks at you, dopey and delighted, but without further ado, pushes your chest so that you lie back again. His hand stays on you and begins lazily kneading your breast as he brings his mouth back to you.

He kisses the base of your neck and continues his previous ministrations across your collarbones. He seems to be on a mission to trace the entire surface area of your skin with his wandering mouth, and you have every intention of letting him and enjoying every long second of it. 

As he makes his languorous way down your sternum, you arch your back, pushing up into him, and bring your hands to his messy hair, holding him close. You scratch and tug, needing somewhere to release some energy, every part of you he’s touched left humming warm and electric. He groans into your chest, and you’re certain you feel the vibrations move through your skin, across your chest cavity, and into your heart, where they ricochet within it, making it beat faster. 

“Remus,” you whine adoringly. He hums into your skin again in response and speeds up his southward trajectory just the slightest bit. 

His face comes between your breasts, and he runs his teeth down the valley, then licks his tongue up the same path. You shake a little, and his hand squeezes your breast tighter. The other one he mouths across until his tongue traces a slow, wet circle around your nipple. This shoots a hot, jolting current straight from where his mouth is connected to you down to between your legs.

He’s gentle for a while, moving back and forth between your tits, often agonizingly slowly, his hands kneading at your chest all the while. Without your expecting it, though, he bites one of your hard, sensitive nipples and tugs lightly. You squeal and push your chest into his mouth. He keeps going, switching as he fancies between rough and tender. 

At a bite of the side of your breast, you rut up into him, and the movement has you feeling how wet you are. You’ve never been this wet before before direct stimulation. 

Remus holds your hips down to the sofa but moves from your chest to your stomach. His roaming mouth proceeds at its perfect, maddening pace. It meanders to your ribs, down your sides, not following a straight path down. 

Once he eventually reaches the threshold of your pants, he looks up at you. 

Remus looks higher than you’ve ever seen him before. He looks elated, in awe. 

“I want to spend hours and hours on your body like this,” he tells you, nuzzling his face into your lower stomach, kissing it as he detaches from you.

“Remus,” you whimper, running your hand into his hair and inadvertently thrusting your hips up. He chuckles, still sounding high, but his voice is as low as you’ve ever heard it.

He takes your trousers and underwear off in one efficient but slow tug. He pulls his shirt off much faster, and you touch all his skin you can reach before he’s repositioning himself.

Your thighs feel cold now uncovered, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of fresh air on your soaking cunt. As you adjust your body, you feel a thick wetness drip from your entrance down to where your arse meets the sofa. You feel the coldness of that wetness even more as Remus pushes your legs further apart to position himself between them. 

You’re completely sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, but you’re not sure if you could possibly be as wet as you feel, thinking the high could be heightening your sensation of it. You’re worried it’s too much, worried you’ll put Remus off. 

“I can clean up a little if —“ you start, but you’re cut off by Remus diving in, running his flat tongue slowly, firmly up from the base of your puddle up to your pubic bone. A strangled, prolonged gasp functions as the end of your sentence.

When Remus licks you again, your thighs shake on either side of his head. You feel him laugh into your cunt, and this time you imagine the vibrations shooting all the way up your body, following the chaotic roadmap his mouth left lingering across it.

Remus pulls back from you and rests his chin on your pubic bone, looking up at you. 

He informs you simply, “You taste delicious, darling.” He looks drunk on it. 

“Everything tastes better when you’re high,” you tease.

“Then I’m really going to enjoy this,” he smiles. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll get me high just by letting me do this other times.” 

“Other times?” 

“Well, yeah…” he giggles. His eyes bore into yours even though he’s the length of your torso away. “I though this was a first, not an only…”

“Good.” You sound giddy. “Just checking.”

“Silly,” he shakes his head at you. You thrust your hips up and laugh at the expression he makes when you bump his face, like he’s dazed. He squeezes your thigh harshly where he’s holding you. 

“Behave, sunshine. It’s feeling dangerous down here.” 

“I thought you were enjoying it.” 

“I am.” A bite at your hip. “And I’m seriously getting the munchies, so just…” You don’t understand the end of his sentence, the words muffled against your skin as he starts eating you out.

It’s heavenly. High as you are, in love as you are, you think you’re on cloud nine. This gets you wondering where such an odd expression even comes from. It seems so random. 

“Moony?”

“Hmm?” is grunted into your cunt.

“Why do you think it’s called being on cloud nine?”

He pulls back. The whole lower half of his face shines in your slick. 

“Why are you thinking about that right now? Am I that bad at this?”

“Bad? It’s amazing.” You ruffle his hair in your groping hands. “Which is why I’m on cloud nine, which is why I’m thinking about that right now. Your hair is as soft as clouds, Moons.” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Am not,” you giggle.

“Are,” he teases.

“Can you keep going now? It felt so good. Your mouth is ridiculous.” You thrust your hips up at him again.

“Ridiculous and bossy,” he complains, but he’s smiling hard, and before you can even think of a retort, he does as you bid. 

His mouth takes its time between your legs. He spends eternities teasing you: mouthing at the tops of your thighs, licking up your bikini line, nipping at your clit without giving it the attention he knows you want from how loud you whine every time he gives it the slightest graze. He loves all over your vulva, not leaving any part untouched, unworshipped. His tongue fucks into your entrance languidly; it swirls there. He licks your labia, sucks on it, gives the same attention to your clit when you moan loud enough. He travels back and forth, seemingly enjoying all of it too much to stick to any one attention too long. The next time he lands on your clit, he prolongs it.

Your legs shake; your back arches; your whines grow loud before turning strangled, and Remus takes his cue to reserve the relaxed approach for later. He picks up his pace, gripping your thighs tightly and shakes his whole face into you, alternating between licking and sucking rhythmically at your clit. You cum hard, and it feels like it goes on for minutes. 

With your eyes closed, you truly feel like you’re floating, your only anchor to the world Remus Lupin where you feel his body attached to yours. 

You’re laughing in pleasure, and the laughs turn to pants as you slowly, slowly come down. You love coming down to an already high baseline, and you giggle at the sensation of relaxing into a still heightened state. 

It suddenly strikes you it feels like it’s been years since you talked to Remus, heard his mellifluous voice, and you startle your eyes open searching for him. 

You see him immediately. He’s gazing at you with equal parts ardor and adoration, but when he sees your expression, his shifts to concern. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, my love?” He rushes to hover just above you. His face is close to yours again, though it’s scanning all over your body. His hand holds your face gently, his other arm holding him up. “Did something feel bad? Does something hurt?” 

“No, no, I’m fine, Moons, I’m fine,” you rush to reassure. “I just missed you,” you explain.

“Missed me?” His eyes shoot to yours. “I’m right here, love; what do you mean you missed me?” He can’t help a subtle giggle, and his adoring expression takes back its rightful place on his beautiful face. 

“I just thought I hadn’t seen you in too long.” Your hands caress his face, thread through his hair. “Or heard your voice…” 

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning into your touch. “I’m right here. What do you want me to say?”

“Anything,” you smile. 

“I love you.” 

You’ve heard them before, but never like this, and they’re the best words in the world, in the universe. 

“Remus,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him. He tastes intensely of you, and you laugh into the kiss. “I’m sorry I got you so… so slicky.”

“I don’t mind,” he chuckles. “Means it was good, right?”

“Beyond. ‘Good’ is like… like one colour out of a whole rainbow for how that just felt.” 

He’s beaming down at you and kisses you again, lingering there. 

When he finally separates from you, his caressing thumb comes to wipe some slick at the corner of your lip. You grab his hand and kiss each of his fingers lightly. Then you lick down his long index finger, your tongue finding and following a scar up his hand to his wrist.

You look into his eyes, and he’s staring at you, transfixed. 

“I was thinking about your fingers when you were rolling the spliff.” 

“Yeah?” His voice is a desperate sigh. 

“Yeah.”

“What were you thinking about?” 

“How beautiful your hands are. How they’d feel touching me… How your fingers would feel inside me…”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You wanna find out?”

“Yes,” you moan. 

“Get them nice and wet for me, and I’ll show you.” They’re already lingering at your lips, but he slowly pushes them in. You welcome them enthusiastically and lazily suck on them, swirl your tongue around them.

“Fuck.” His voice is low. “Fuck, I want to feel everything there is to feel with you.”

“Mmm,” you nod, your mouth still full. 

Remus takes his fingers out, kisses you, and lets his mouth stay on yours as his fingers trace down your chin, your chest, your stomach steadily, leaving a wet path. When they reach between your legs, you squirm in anticipation. 

He rubs a couple of tight, slow circles on your clit. You’re so sensitive, and it feels amazing. You mewl into his mouth where it still hovers just above yours. 

“Ready, my sunshine?” 

“Mmhhmm.”

Remus pushes two fingers into you ever so slowly. You release a low, slow whine the whole time he takes to press in. He gives you gentle kisses, eating it up. When his fingers are in to the hilt, you wonder how you didn’t feel devastatingly empty every moment of your life before this one. When he adds a third, you’re sure you will every moment after.

You clench purposefully around him, and he moans into your mouth. Closing your eyes again, it’s the easiest thing to let yourself be consumed by the sensations, by Remus. 

When he curls his fingers inside you, you clench again, this time automatically. You grip his hair and clutch his back, your arms pulling his body close to yours. 

The spot he starts massaging feels like it’s a blazing fire, but everywhere else you’re connected, your chests, your mouths, is scattered scalding embers.

You’re savouring every second, every sensation, already feeling another high building but relishing in the time it’ll take to get there. 

You run your hands down Remus’s back, feeling the bumps of his scars, the grooves of his defined muscles. For the first time all afternoon, you feel a desire to hurry… 

You start moving your hips to meet his rhythm, eager, even more than for your own climax, for your turn to take your time on him. 

pt. 2!

[surielstea]

Teeth Marks

Kinktober day 6: Biting + Tender

Pairing: Rowan Whitethorn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rowan canonically has a biting kink and I think about it once a week so, I thought I might share with the class 🫶

Warnings: Smut | Minors dni | 18+ | biting kink | oral (f receiving) | p in v | territorial fae bastard | brief fingering | praise | Rowan’s feral for her

Dawn had yet to break over the horizon but I've been awake for at least an hour. I had spent that time silently laying in bed, listening to the sound of Rowan's soft heartbeat, steady and slow beneath my ear, a rhythm I had grown fond of and had slowly become the most comforting sound I had ever heard.

Once my stomach got the best of me—and was grumbling so loud I honestly thought it might wake the silver-haired fae beside me, I slipped from the bed, tip-toeing as I got dressed and despite my mates heightened senses, he didn't stir as I left our bedroom.

I padded into the dimly lit kitchen and fixed myself a simple meal as quietly as I could, making a plate of leftovers from dinner, not bothering to heat them up due to the fact that the smell and clattering of utensils would most likely wake Rowan.

He wasn't a light sleeper by any means, the male slept like a damned log, and I was certain he could pass out anywhere, but, to his core, he was a worrier.

And when I wasn't beside him, he was as anxious as a mother hen. Which meant a rough sleep.

I hadn't known what prompted me to wake up earlier than usual, and I'd most likely be in eager need of a nap in a few hours, but once I was awake, there was no returning to sleep.

So I sighed, stuffing a cold potato into my mouth, quietly eating as I stretched my limbs out, sore from sleep and training yesterday.

A warm breeze twirled around me and I knew it wasn't the wind blowing in from the windows that kissed my face.

I wasn't surprised when a pair of large, muscled arms lazily wrapped around my torso, pulling me back into a bare chest.

"It's too early," Rowan murmured, his voice groggy as he spoke into my hair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," I lift a hand up, running it through his trimmed, silver locks.

"Then come back to bed," He grumbles and I smile, leaning into his warm and toned chest.

"You used to train from dawn to nightfall right outside my window, where'd that Rowan go?" I tease, raising a brow despite the fact that he couldn't see it, rolling another potato over with my fork.

"Mm, he died from a heart attack when a pretty girl dragged him into her rooms when he was supposed to be training," He explained and I smiled at the memory, still raking my hand through his hair.

"I miss your long hair," I changed the subject and he groaned, stuffing his nose into the crook of my neck.

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm growing it out, just for you?" He huffs and I beam brightly. "I still can't believe you cut it without asking me," I sighed in disbelief as if that day was such a tragedy.

"My gods woman," He hoisted me up into his arms and I squealed. "And I still can't believe you left our bed without asking me," He retorted and I giggled.

"Those are two very different things," I argue while he carries me back to our bedroom, leaving my cold food on the counter, deserted.

He threw me down onto our bed and crawled in beside me. I gripped him by the tops of his shoulders, lugging him upward so he was laying atop me, and he would have been crushing me if his hips weren't positioned between my legs, his head stuffed in the junction of my shoulder and neck.

"I missed you," He sighs and I roll my eyes.

"For the ten minutes I wasn't in bed?" I scoffed and he growled softly, nipping at my collarbone. "Ow!" I yelp, shoving him away but he only looks at me with a feral grin and an amused look in his eyes.

"I love doing that," He hums and I deadpan at him.

"What? Inflicting pain onto your mate?" I suggest and he frowns.

"No, biting you," He explained and I gave him an incredulous look, as if they were not one and the same.

"You have a biting kink," I reiterate and he brushes me off.

"I do not." He huffs while stuffing his head back into my shoulder.

He danced his lips along my collarbone, kissing softly until he found the small expanse of skin that made me tense.

I felt him grin at his realization. His elongated canines brushed over the area just below my pulse point. He ran his nose up the area, entirely drunk on the scent and feel of me beneath him.

He kissed the spot, soft, gentle, something he did every time before marking me. "Rowan," I warn in a stern voice.

"Hm?" He inquires, all too innocently.

"If you leave a mark I'm going to kill you," I warn.

"Is that right, love?" He drawls against the column of my throat and my stomach twists in both arousal and anxiety.

"Yes. We have a meeting with the lords of Doranelle today and I'd prefer it if they didn't know how much you love to claim your territory," I reason but he remains at the area on my neck, taunting the flesh.

"But the looks on their faces," He drawls. "They'll know you're all mine," He grins at the idea and I roll my eyes.

"They already do, remember? When we had a wedding and all of Wendlyn was invited?" I reason but he simply shakes his head.

"Not just Wendlyn, everyone, I want everyone to know," He goes on and I release a long sigh, his grin broadening because he knows he's won.

"Okay, but only if you admit you have a biting kink," I bargain and he chuckles, but he doesn't say it rather than shows it.

His sharp canines brush over my neck, then slowly sink into my porcelain skin, the feeling sending shockwaves of both pain and pleasure throughout my entire body. I melted into his touch as he groaned softly the moment my blood hit his tongue. He bit harder, making sure a mark was left while he pressed his hips into mine, his hard cock straining against his pants but through my thin nightgown there was practically nothing between us.

Rowan's tongue glided over the wound, savoring the taste of my blood as the wound closed. His lips pressed against my neck in a silent apology, though there was no need for one. The bite sent shivers through my body, the sharp sensation of pain melting into the pleasure that followed in its wake. I threaded my fingers through his silver hair, holding him close, feeling the heat of his body radiated through my thin gown.

"You've made your point," I said softly, my voice still teasing, though breathless from the intensity of his bite. "Everyone will know I'm yours."

Rowan's chuckle was low, vibrating against my skin. He lifted his head, meeting my gaze with eyes that were both playful and full of desire. "I'm not quite done proving it," he murmured.

Before I could respond, Rowan shifted, his hands sliding down my body in a way that had my pulse quickening all over again. His fingers trailed over my hips, tugging my gown up higher, exposing more of my skin to the cool morning air. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing soft kisses to my collarbone, down my sternum, until he reached the delicate curve of my waist.

His mouth was warm, his breath hot against my skin as he continued to descend, leaving a trail of kisses that made me arch into his touch. His lips lingered at the edge of my inner thigh, just before he bit down—not hard, not yet—just enough to tease me, to make my breath hitch.

"Rowan," I breathed, my hand tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to let him know how desperate I was becoming.

He lifted his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he met my gaze, pine-green eyes full of lust and devotion. "Tell me what you want, love."

My voice trembled, but the words came easily. "Touch me."

His grin widened, but he didn't rush. Instead, his lips brushed over the sensitive skin of my thigh again, his teeth grazing lightly before he sank them in just enough to leave a mark, making me gasp. The combination of his bites and his soft kisses left my skin tingling with anticipation.

Rowan's hands moved to my thighs, parting them gently as he positioned himself between my legs. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles along my skin, a deliberate contrast to the sharp bites he'd left behind. He didn't say anything—he didn't need to. His lips descended again, pressing a kiss to the inside of my thigh, so close to where I ached for him, yet not quite enough.

I let out a soft whimper, and he hummed against my skin, clearly pleased with my reaction. He kissed me there once more, softer this time, before his tongue finally darted out, teasing me, tasting me. The sensation was electric, sending a wave of pleasure crashing over me, and I moaned, my back arching off the bed.

Rowan's grip tightened on my thighs as he held me steady, his tongue moving with agonizing precision. His lips, his teeth—everything about him was calculated to drive me wild, to bring me to the edge and hold me there. He alternated between soft kisses and firm, lingering licks, his teeth occasionally nipping the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs, leaving marks that would remind me of this moment long after.

My hands fisted the sheets, my breath ragged as I tried to keep control, even if I wanted nothing more than that sweet release. Rowan's pace didn't relent. If anything, the pressure of his mouth increased, his bites becoming bolder, leaving me trembling beneath him.

The tension in my body built, winding tighter and tighter until I was nearly coming undone. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he withdrew, his lips brushing over my skin once more, this time moving up my body again.

His eyes were dark with desire as he hovered over me, his lips glistening from tasting me. He kissed me then, slow and deep, letting me taste myself on his tongue. "You're mine," he murmured against my lips, the possessiveness in his voice making my pulse race again.

"And you're mine," I teased, though my voice was barely a whisper now.

Rowan grinned, his teeth grazing my bottom lip. "All yours," he rasped before capturing my lips again, the kiss full of a promise—one that said he wasn't done with me yet.

His kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my toes curl. The heat between my legs only intensified, my entire body buzzing with need as he pressed himself against me, his hard length unmistakable even through the fabric of his pants. I arched into him, desperate for the friction, desperate for him.

His hands moved with a confidence that only came from knowing me intimately, sliding down my body and pushing my gown further up until he pulled it over my head and discarded it onto the floor. I shivered as his fingers skimmed over the bare skin of my waist, his touch both tender and possessive. He shifted his weight, his hands making quick work of his pants, and I felt him—hot, hard, and ready—pressing against me.

Rowan paused for a moment, his eyes dark as they locked onto mine. "You sure baby?" he murmured, his voice low and thick with need, though there was a tenderness there, too. He always made sure, always wanted me to be in control, even in moments like these.

My response was immediate, my voice breathless as I nodded. "Yes, Rowan. Please."

That was all he needed.

His hand slid between my legs, his fingers finding my slick heat and teasing me with gentle strokes, preparing me for him. I gasped at the contact, my body arching into his touch, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

Rowan grinned, clearly enjoying how desperate I was for him, but he didn't make me wait much longer. He lined himself up with my entrance, his gaze never leaving mine as he slowly pushed into me, stretching me in a way that was both delicious and overwhelming.

I felt him everywhere, I needed him everywhere. It was indescribable the pleasure I was enduring, how he knew exactly how to make me feel good, exactly how much I could take— then pushing me past that mark.

I never got used to the size of him, even after decades of being his mate— he had me satisfied halfway in. “Ro—” I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders as I arch off the bed.

“I know baby, almost there.” He leans down and presses a tender kiss to my lips, his arms on either side of my head. “You’re doing so well,” He praises, pulling out and then thrusting in once more, his hips finally meeting mine.

I gasped, my nails now dragging down his muscled back as he filled me completely, his body flush against mine. For a moment, neither of us moved, savoring the feeling of being so intimately connected. His forehead pressed against mine, and his breath came out in a ragged exhale.

"Gods," he groaned softly, his voice a low rumble against my skin. "You feel, so perfect."

My response was a guttural moan, the pleasure of having him inside me stealing my words. Slowly, he began to move, pulling back just enough before pushing back into me, his pace measured, and deliberate. He wanted to make this last, wanted to draw out every bit of pleasure he could give me.

The friction built steadily, a delicious tension coiling in my core as Rowan's hips moved against mine, slow but powerful. He kissed me again, his lips moving languidly over mine, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his thrusts, teasing and tasting me.

Every time he filled me, a wave of pleasure rippled through me, my body tightening around him as the tension built higher and higher. His name fell from my lips in a breathless whisper, and I felt him shudder against me, his control slipping as he gave in to the primal need to claim me.

Rowan's thrusts quickened, his hands gripping my hips to pull me closer, deeper. The sound of skin against skin, of his low, rumbling groans, filled the room, mingling with my own moans. He leaned down, his mouth returning to my neck, and before I could protest, his sharp teeth sank into my skin once more, right where my pulse thrummed wildly.

The bite sent a sharp jolt of pleasure and pain through my body, and my inner walls clenched around him as my climax rushed toward me. I cried out, my body arching off the bed as the intense waves of pleasure crashed over me, my release shuddering through every nerve.

Rowan groaned into my neck as my body tightened around him, his hips stuttering as he found his own release. He thrust into me one final time, his body tensing as he spilled into me, his grip on my hips tightening as he rode out the last of his pleasure.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy panting of our breaths, the two of us tangled together in a haze of post-orgasm bliss. Rowan's weight settled over me, his head dropping to rest against my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin.

I sighed contentedly, my hand threading through his hair once more. "Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you," I murmured with a lazy smile.

Rowan chuckled softly, his lips brushing over the bite mark on my neck in a tender kiss. "Because you love me," he murmured, his voice low and full of satisfaction. "And because I'm great at making all my mistakes up to you."

I rolled my eyes, though there was no real annoyance behind it. "Making it up to me? You mean making me mad then charming you way out of it?"

Rowan grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he nuzzled into my neck. "It's called balance, love." He says against my heated skin.

I roll my eyes, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him impossibly closer as I mutter, "You're ridiculous."

He stayed pressed against me for a few more moments, his breath still coming out in slow, deep pants. He placed a soft kiss on the bite mark he'd left on my neck, then slowly pulled out of me, the sensation making us both shiver. As much as I wanted to stay tangled up in each other, I knew the meeting was looming.

"I've ruined our schedule, haven't I?" Rowan's voice was low, though I could hear the lazy smile in his tone.

I gave a soft laugh, shifting beneath him. "A little. But I suppose I can forgive you this once."

Rowan chuckled, rolling off of me and onto his side. His arm draped over my waist as he reached up, brushing a lock of hair from my face, his thumb gently grazing my cheek. "You're too kind," he teased, his pine-green eyes warm with affection.

"Only because I'm still basking in the afterglow," I shot back with a smirk, earning another low laugh from him.

But Rowan wasn't one to linger too long in the haze of pleasure, especially when it came to taking care of me afterward. His touch was immediately gentle and purposeful, slipping out of bed to grab a cloth from the basin near the window. I watched him move with that easy grace he always had, even half-dressed and tousled from bed. He dipped the cloth in the water, wringing it out before returning to my side.

"Stay still, love," Rowan murmured as he knelt beside me on the bed. His hands were warm and gentle as he ran a damp cloth between my legs, cleaning me with the same tender care he always did after moments like this.

I sighed, letting my head fall back against the pillow, the coolness of the cloth soothing the lingering heat in my skin. "You're too good at this," I mused, my voice soft with a mixture of contentment and exhaustion.

He smiled, his eyes glinting with humor. "I've had plenty of practice."

"You say that like I'm high maintenance," I teased, though I couldn't help the soft sigh that escaped me as he finished cleaning me up.

He raised a brow, wiping his hands before setting the cloth aside. "You? Never," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, though the way he looked at me—like I was the most precious thing in the world—softened the words. He pulled the blankets back over me, making sure I was comfortable before leaning in and pressing a kiss to my temple.

I rolled my eyes, reaching up to poke him in the chest. "I don't remember you complaining last night."

Rowan grinned, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "I'm not complaining now, either."

With a satisfied smile, he moved to retrieve my clothes. He picked out the gown I had set aside for the meeting, holding it up with an appraising look. "This one will show off all your marks perfectly I think."

I laughed, sitting up in bed, feeling pleasantly sore. "Well, I wasn't planning on needing armor for the meeting, but after this morning's antics, maybe I should rethink that."

Rowan tossed the gown to me with a smirk. "I told you, love. I'm making sure everyone knows you're mine."

I caught the gown and shook my head in mock exasperation. "You are impossible."

"And yet, you married me," he said with a wink, starting to dress himself, pulling on his pants and shirt with practiced ease.

I stood, slipping into my undergarments before working my way into the gown. The fabric was soft against my skin, and Rowan moved to my side, his fingers deftly helping fasten the back without me needing to say a word.

As his hands worked, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "You know, I could help you out of this dress far faster than you got into it," he murmured against my hair, his tone teasing but affectionate.

I elbowed him lightly in the ribs, though the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. "I swear your mind stays in one place and one place only."

Once the gown was fastened, Rowan turned me around, his fingers brushing over the bite mark on my neck, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. "I really outdid myself with this one." He admires the mark like an art piece.

I snorted, smoothing down the front of my dress as I met his gaze in the mirror. "If you leave any more marks like this, the lords are going to think you're trying to start some sort of territorial war."

His expression turned mock-serious. "I mean, can you blame me? You're worth fighting for."

I rolled my eyes for what felt like the nth time, though the flush in my cheeks betrayed how much his words affected me. "Just behave yourself during the meeting."

Rowan's grin was utterly unrepentant as he reached for his sword, fastening it at his waist. "I always behave, love."

I raised a brow at him. "Uh-huh. And how many times have we been late to meetings because of your 'good behavior'?"

His gaze darkened with amusement. "If you keep talking like that, we might be late again today."

I gave him a playful shove toward the door. "Out. I need to make sure I don't look like I've been ravaged by my mate all morning."

He chuckled, stepping aside but not before leaning in to steal another kiss, his lips soft and warm against mine. "You look perfect," he murmured as he pulled back, his eyes lingering on me with a warmth that made my heart flutter.

I gave him a small, exasperated shake of my head, though my heart skipped a beat at his words. "Flattery won't save you if we're late."

Rowan's grin only widened as he opened the door, slipping out of it— then peaking his head back in to say, "I'll take my chances." With a snarky grin.

Gods, help me, this male was hopeless.

Comment or reblog with a “💋” to be added to the kinktober taglist!

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[raeofsunrise]

can I please request a blurb or something where the reader admires Mike’s eyes? it’s canon that he once went on a date with a girl in high school who never went on a second date with him because she said his eyes were “too intense” so I would love to see his reaction to the reader saying that it is their favorite thing about him :) I enjoy reading your work btw!

my favorite things

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

summary: mike has never had anyone compliment him, not in a long time, at least.

warnings: light cursing

word count: 389

author’s note: super short, but i just LOVE how this turned out. hope y’all love it ☆

“and i just can’t fucking believe how stupid this is because. . .”

mike was ranting about one of the many, many problems he had at his new job. you had been dating each other for about 4 months, but since this wasn’t your first time listening to him, you decided to fix your eyes on one of his features.

today, you decided to fixate yourself on his eyes. oh, you could get lost in his eyes forever. they were brown, but when the light shines on them, like how the sun does when he wakes up in the morning, there’s a slight greenish hue to them. they almost turn hazel. it reminded you of the clear, autumn sky.

it sounds cliché, but you thought that his eyes told so much about him. there was a tired, stressed look to his eyes. but in moments where it was just the two of you, together, alone, they were loving. longing. like you were what he was looking for for forever, and he finally found it.

“hey. hey, are you listening?”

mike brings you back down to earth with his question while waving his hand in your face. he doesn’t look upset at the fact that you were obviously not listening to him. he was just confused. a little amused, too. maybe there was something on your mind, he thought. i mean, you were staring into his eyes for five minutes straight, and he only noticed now.

“what’s with you?” mike asks.

“nothing, i just…you have really pretty eyes.” you confess.

he laughs and rolls his eyes. “yeah, sure.” he says.

“you do!” you suddenly get defensive. you knew he was never the confident type—hell, he rarely said one good thing about himself, but you were surprised that out of all the compliments you gave him, this was the one he denied?

“they’re my favorite thing about you.”

you move over to sit right next to mike, and you put his arm around your shoulder and lean into him.

“and i have a lot of favorite things about you, mike.”

you look up at him and smile. he smiles back, and suddenly all of the stress from his eyes disappeared, replaced only by love.

“oh, yea?” he asks.

he gives you a sweet kiss, one full of gratitude.

“tell me all about it.”

please give feedback! it’s very appreciated ☆

[simp-ly-writes]

Office Love (pt.1)

What if Vox had an assistant that soon became more than that?

Pairing: Vox x assistant!Reader

Warnings: some suggestive content near the end and canon-typical language.

A/N: something different to what I usually write- hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist (PT.2) (PT.3)

↳ When the application advertisement first flashed against your social media feed- you clicked past it very quickly before one of your friends was ushering you to apply. They had been working with the V's for a number of years now and produced a plethora a fan-favorite shows

↳ When you application got accepted and you were being thrown into a suit for the interview, you were all the more thankful when the overlord themselves were not hosting yet the managers were. A more than few warning here and there- but that was with every job you worked in hell. You didn't work hard enough, you were better off dead- simply put.

↳ You did not often see your boss in person after signing the contract with him day one. Only emailing him his schedule that was often cancelled mid-way through the day and you were running out of excuses for his clients

↳ Velvette and Valentino were often more intimidating that Vox. You had gotten used to his tantrums, PR nightmares, and televised cancellations that were often fixed with a light bit of hypnotization that you could only roll your eyes at before going back to your emails

↳ You would memorize his every need, knowing his favorite meals and coffee preferences, when he needed to recharge and even how to text exactly like him. You kept track of every social media handle that held his name, growing his followers while riffing on Alastor- an action that Vox dearly appreciated

↳ As time would progress, you would become too good at your job. So much so that his other six assistants had all gotten fired for lack of polish as Vox excused it. Clinking his coffee mug to yours sat at your desk. He hardly used his own office these days, often taking calls at your computer as you sat on your desk- off to the side as you rearranged his schedule once again

↳ You were starting to become his shadow and he always noticed when you were gone for a minute too long. He liked the reassurance your presence brought him- he enjoyed knowing that you would always know what to say in order to benefit the company and find ways for him not to interaction with people he disliked

↳ Velvette and Valentino noticed this as well- how close you had gotten to their business partner without a second thought. Sometimes you would even show up in replacement for Vox when one of their branches had gone down once again and often times they wished it was you that addressed the problem rather than the man himself

↳ When a reality show comes out, highlighting the lives of overlords all over the city including the three V's (mostly them though for PR that they desperately needed and had made multiple comments on). It did numbers and your friend from earlier could not have been happier getting that promotion to head producer of the show

↳ You soon became a fan favorite for your witty comebacks at the TV head as he wold only smile in return- liking that you had the heart to knock him down a few pegs. The fans would stalk everyones social media profiles, liking each image that had you just cropped out of it

↳ Vox had insisted that you were not to be seen in any of the media production- something about no wanting to corrupt your mind as well. You could only shake your head at this information- all you ever did was stare at screens all day, this comment made Vox's box go pink as his speech buffered. Taking a second to rethink your wording, your cheeks had appeared red while the cameras rolled and money starting pouring in

↳ The fans demanded more attention put towards you, screaming at you from behind the barricades as you walked the corporate building each morning. "CAN I GET A PICTURE WITH YOU," "I SHIP IT," "WORK FOR ME INSTEAD." They started to shove one another over, trying to get your attention as your feet picked up pace

↳ Vox had made his way through the wires and various security cameras settled around the neighbourhood. He wrapped an arm around your waist, ensuring that when the barricade fell and you were swarmed that you would not be dragged away with the crowd

↳ You voiced your thanks once safely in the building as Vox announced a surprise for your recent good work- this was their most profitable quarter yet and you would have Velvette tailored work to wear each day. Picking up the various blue suits you eyed them suspiciously to those of your boss. Vox only shrugged his shoulders before taking a call

↳ The dating allegation grew every week as blushed heavily at the headlines, Vox who now was only found in your office asked what was making you have such a reaction, even when he was in the middle of a meeting. You quickly hid your screen as he could only chuckle, sparking it back to life and projecting it on the monitor

↳ "Oh, so THIS is what has you all red- me is it?" Vox states with pride, leaning over the table and into your personal space as your blush only grows down your neck. You take a sip of your now cold coffee, hiding a wince as you get back on track with answering Valentino back

↳ When you arrive the next morning, dead flowers are found on your desk that make you chuckle, you read the note with a smile before handing the TV man his coffee for the morning, your chairs right beside one another as you work in tandum

↳ Years into your work now, you barley find yourself going home, choosing to stick for the V's movie nights together that they insist on you being present for alongside finding it easier to let Vox know of scheduling changes last minute from within your shared apaprtment

↳ After much demand, you and Vox have a one on one livestream interview for the public within your apartment, you both make small touches to one another, fixing his tie, he holds your knee, rubbing circles with his thumb- the fans are losing their shit as the other to V's sit back and rake in the cash

↳ A question about your work ethic and sex-worker allegation gets read out by Velvette that has Vox glitching out with rage as you pull on the back of his jacket, urging him to calm down as you loop your arm in his, leaning into his side, "run that by me one more time, Velvette," Vox states with a twitch as you blink your eyes towards her- pleading that she does not.

↳ After a particularly good corporate event, you find yourself in Vox's bed as he urges you not to leave, his voice is merely murmurs in your ear as you do not have the heart to roll away from. Soon these off hand-nights become a more common occurrence that as Valentino the slitest bit jealous at first, but when he surprises you in the mornings with a new package that got sent to the wrong apartment, he cannot help put wink at seeing the marks on your skin

↳ You and Vox never made anything official, you were still his assistant of course- his assistant that he would always have a hand on a bit too low for public attention. A worker who was NOT allowed to be asked on a date by someone else. And the person he jumped to protect against the smallest threat but against your name

(PT.2) (PT.3)

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @amarokofficial

[lokigonnakmsforbucky]

Sam Winchester NSFW Alphabet

I needed some Sam recently so why not an NSFW Alphabet :) enjoy :))

Rating: MINORS DNI 18+

A= Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Sam first thought after sex is you. How you are feeling, are you sore? etc. He is very sweet and makes sure to cuddle you for a little while before cleaning you up and giving you anything you need before even thinking of himself. You come first. Always.

B= Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

Even though he might not like to admit it. He is very confident in his body. He is most confident in his hands. Mostly because of how his fingers have an effect on you.

Sam loves everything about you, but if he had to choose he loves the way your hips are curved, so it is easy to grab you ;)

C=CUM (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a nasty person.)

If you gave him an okay, he would always cum in you. The way it drips out of you turns him on more.

But, if he couldn't that way he loves seeing it on your tits or face.

D=Dirty Secret

Sam loves when he comes down your throat as you give him a blow job.

E= Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they are doing?)

He may not be as experienced as Dean but he is experienced nonetheless. You will know everything about his past before you have had sex for the first time, but let me tell you he definitely leaves you wanting more after every time.

F= Favorite position (Goes without saying)

Missionary- him between your legs, your legs around his waist locked together. Up close and personal. He loves seeing your face full of pleasure.

Doggystyle- Remember when I said he loves holding your hips? He loves this position.

G= Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? or are they humorous)

He is mostly serious. It's a very serious moment of passion and intimacy for both of you.

I= Intimacy (How are things during the moment, romantic aspect.)

His hands never leave your body, he is very handsy and grabby but he always never leaves his lips off your body.

J= Jack off (Masturbation head canon)

It's not often that he does, in the line of work he does. But, when you are separated he may get one or two out of thinking of you. Or even calling you for help ;)

K=Kinks

Sam loves being dominate towards you. Choking you and edging you.

He also has a bit of a breeding kink. Just the thought of you being pregnant with his child makes him more turned on.

L= Location (where you guys would do the deed)

Sam is a very private guy, so any place that is private like his room is ideal.

But, he has taken the impala for a spin...if you know what I mean.

M= Motivation (What turns them on, or gets them going)

When you wear nothing but his shirt and he sees you with a book, immediately turned on.

N= No (Something they wouldn't do, or turns them off)

Anything that would bring you any pain. You are his love and seeing you in pain is his worse nightmare.

O= Oral (Do they like giving, receiving, both?)

Sam is an Oral god...he loves giving it and watching your face come from pleasure and knowing he is the one doing it.

He loves when you give him a blowjob, it gives him another time to relax.

P= Pace (Are they slow? Fast and rough?)

It really depends on the mood. He can certainly go rough and fast but if you requested gentle and slow. You got it.

Q=Quickie (Their opinion on it, how often would they have one)

Sam is a quickies fan even though he doesn't do them often. But, if you and him have time for a quick fix he is all for it.

R-Risk (Are they risky?)

In Sam's line of work, the risk is dangerous. He don't need it in the bedroom.

S=Stamina (How long can you last? How many rounds?)

Sessions with Sam are so hot and heavy, yall be lucky to have three rounds.

T=Toys (Do you guys own toys? Do they use them?)

You guys own a vibrator which is rarely used, You guys both can satisfy with what you get from each other.

U=Unfair (How likely would they tease)

Let's be honest, You would be the one that would that would tease. But, when Sam had enough of the teasing he would definitely let you know.

V= Volume (How loud are they)

Sam doesn't make much noise but expects a lot of heavy breathing. Low growls and grunts.

X=XRay (What's going on down there)

Sam is a big boy, and I don't just mean his height. You can expect that he is bigger than average.

Y=Yearning (How high is their sex drive)

Despite him big majorly quiet and hiding behind a book, Sam's Drive is higher than you would think.

Z=ZZZ. (How fast he would fall asleep)

He would fall asleep a bit after you did.

[redstarwriting]

the clash | iv. london calling

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, smoking weed, alcohol, mentions of a gwen canon event, mentions of death, lil angst

a/n: nother long one! i can’t wait to make it crazy angsty bc when i tell u i have THOUGHTS 👀 thank you to everyone who’s reading, i’m trying to update it every day, so hopefully i can stick with that schedule! enjoy this chapter, friends :)

now reading: iv. london calling

previous chapter: iii. black planet

next chapter: v. ever fallen in love

───────────────────────────────────

He fixes his watch to open a portal to his world. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr basically run to get to it. He motions for you to go ahead, and you walk through. Immediately when you step into his room, you’re hit with the smell of weed and incense. You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You glance around. You see drums, another electric and acoustic guitar, empty spray paint cans, spray paint on the walls, stacks of newspapers (all defaced in some way)… it feels very Hobie to say the least. “Now this. This is a livin’ area,” he says, appearing behind you. You shake your head. “So loud, both figuratively and literally. How do you ever get anything done?”

“By being louder than everyone else, obviously,” he responds, and you roll your eyes. “What a way to live,” you remark. “Better than that quiet, dark, and gloomy, way,” he retorts, and you shrug. “If you say so.”

“Hey, Hobie, do you still have the roof all decorated?” Gwen asks and he nods. “Course I do. I own the place, head on up,” he jerks his head upwards, and Gwen turns to Miles and Pavitr with a smirk. “Race ya!”

“Hey no fair! You have been here so many times!” Pavitr yells as Gwen takes off. “Come on, Miles!” you hear her yell. Miles smiles gently and shakes his head before going after the two of them. “He’s so obsessed with her it’s making me sick,” you mumble, and Hobie snorts. “What? Miles and Gwen’s relationship too much for you? You hate love?”

“Love has never done anything but cause me pain. And not the good kind,” you glance at him with a frown, and he raises his eyebrow. Suddenly his eyes get wide. “Oh shit… you had a Gwen canon event.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you respond, and he frowns. “You know, actually talkin’ about that kinda shit is a good way to not sit on it and let it build. You could face some serious problems if you keep doin’ that.”

“Who said I gave a fuck what you think? I didn’t ask for the unneeded advice, alright?” you say, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Oh, right. Forgot I was dealing with a bloody doughnut,” he mumbles and point to the window. “Care to go to the roof and get out of my sight?”

“Sound like the best thing you’ve said since I got here,” you say, leaping out of his window and climbing up the side of the building. While clinging to the wall, you glance out at Hobie’s world. His city looks almost exactly like Night of Yore City, except for the fact that there are a shit ton of fires burning, over half of the buildings look abandoned, the sky is a reddish-orangish hue, and it is so much louder. The name is also vastly different, as his version of NYC is New London. Universal differences get weird and confusing. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued, you turn around, putting your back against the wall and supporting yourself with your hands and feet. The graffitied buildings are a nice touch, you must admit. You snort to yourself when you see a mural of Hobie. If only they knew the asshole behind the mask.

“Now why the hell aren’t you up there with everyone else?” you hear his voice pull you out of your thoughts as he crawls up next to you. You shrug. “I’m a sucker for views, I guess.”

“Well, believe it or not, view is a lot better from the top of the buildin’,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Can I please just be secluded and observe in peace?”

“Absolutely fuckin’ not. Come on,” he says, starting to walk up the wall. You sigh and lazily roll backwards and up the wall to come to standing and follow him up. When you get to the top of the roof, you see a boombox (blaring punk music, of course) and blankets surrounding a barrel with a fire going in it. Multiple coolers decorate the roof which all look stockpiled full of different beers. “Hey, Hobie, you know that they’re all kids, right?”

“New universe, new rules, love. Drinking age is 16 and up ��round here, not that I’d give a fuck if it wasn’t anyway. So, sit down, shut up, and drink a damn beer. Maybe you’ll loosen up,” he says, tossing you a random bottle. You roll your eyes and sit down but put the beer to the side.

“Hey, Hobie, do you have any of that–” Miles gets cut off by Hobie tossing him another bottle. “Nice. Thanks, dude,” he says excitedly, cracking the top and taking a drink. Gwen gets her beer of choice, and Pavitr does the same. Hobie, you notice, doesn’t drink anything. “So, what were you guys talking about?” Gwen asks, pointing between the two of you with her bottle. “What?” you ask, and she shrugs. “You guys were alone in Hobie’s for a while and no one died, soooo did you guys finally talk about something you could agree on?”

“We can’t agree on nothin’, Gwen. They were just bein’ their usual self and annoyin’ the shit out of me at any chance they could get,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “Good to know it worked, mate”

“Stop imitatin’ me, poser.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“I’ll make you.”

“Try me, Hobart.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that. What were you guys talking about?” Miles asks, and you and Hobie look at each other. “Just asked where the bathroom was,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah. That’s it.”

You weren’t necessarily ready to reveal you faced the Gwen canon event. Especially not to another Gwen. At least Hobie isn’t enough of a dick to bring it up in front of them. “Oh, yeah, you did change into your everyday clothes. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that,” Gwen states, taking another swig of her beer. You had changed in your apartment after cleaning your wound, but you don’t say anything. Hobie nods at you, and you nod back.

“Why aren’t you drinking anything (Y/n)? Here, try this it’s so good,” Pavitr pushes his bottle toward you, and you shake your head. “I don’t want to drink, but thanks Pavitr,” you say, and he frowns. “Awww.” You smile slightly at how disappointed he sounds. “Well, I want to remember everything you all tell me without it being fuzzy because I was hoping you could let me know a little bit more about all the spider people in Spider Society. I’m still new, you four, Peter B. Parker, and Miguel are the only ones I’ve really met.”

With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr start telling you everything they know. You learn about Jessica Drew, Spider-Man Noir, Peni Parker, and so many more. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr talk for hours, and since they’re kids, they do not know when to stop drinking. Eventually, the three of them are passed out. Miles is cradling Gwen’s side with his head on her chest as she wraps one of her arms around him, and Pavitr is laying straight on his back, lightly snoring. You giggle softly at the sight. Suddenly the punk music you’ve been listening to for the past however many hours gets softer. You glance over to where it is and see Hobie bent over and turning it down. “Don’t wanna wake ‘em,” he mumbles, walking over to you. The volume of the city has decreased quite a bit, and with the low hum of music coming from the boombox now, his world is actually kind of enjoyable. Though you’d never tell him that. He motions to the skyline, and you turn and look. He was right, as much as you hate to admit it. The view is a lot better from up here.

“Why didn’t you drink anythin’?” he asks, and you shrug. “Didn’t feel like it. Why didn’t you drink anything?” He shrugs and pulls out a rolled cigarette from his vest pocket. “Got somethin’ better.”

“And you didn’t offer any to them?”

“Hey, they can drink here, they don’t need to mess with this shit. ‘Sides I knew they’d be pissed. Gonna have a god-awful hangover tomorrow,” he says, pulling out a lighter. You shake your head. “They can’t mess with your shit, but I can?”

“The two of us are the same age. We’re ‘adults’ or whatever the fuck that means. Are you too stuck up to be ‘round some grass or somethin’?”

“No, Hobie, I don’t give a fuck if you smoke weed. Building manager might, though.”

“Love, I am the building manager. This place is abandoned, so it belongs to me. And you’re not tellin’ me I’m supposed to smoke this myself?” he asks with a sly smirk on his face. You raise your eyebrow at him. “Actually I am.” He groans, putting the joint to his lips and lighting the end of it.

“Do you know how to have any fun?”

“Do you know how to have any–” Before you can finish, he puts his finger over your mouth, and raises the joint to his lips again. He takes a deep breath in, blowing out the excess smoke and glancing at you. “No.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Don’t care. The answer is no.”

“Have you ever actually tried listening to anything anyone says?” “Nah. I don’t listen to no one. I’m me, and if people don’t like that, good,” he says, taking another drag. He glances over at you and holds the joint out. “Y’sure you don’t want some?”

“You actually want to share with me?”

“I want you to not be as much as a ragin’ fuckwit, so yes,” he blows smoke in your face, and you glare at him. “If I take one hit, will you shut the fuck up about it?”

“Probably not, but it would sure make me happier.” You roll your eyes, and take the joint from him, taking a drag. He watches you. He’d never admit it, but he wishes you weren’t such an asshole. The way you look doing that in the moonlight? Stunning. You pass the joint back to him, some of the smoke coming out of your nose. “Stop staring at me.”

“Just makin’ sure you did it right and didn’t waste my shit,” he says, taking another drag. “I know how to hit a joint, Hobie.”

“Really? Never would have guessed you’d do anything remotely excitin’.”

“Oh, please. You barely know me,” you say, angrier than you probably should be. “Then tell me about yourself, love.”

“Hard pass,” you say, and he groans. “I get the desire to stay anonymous and mysterious, obviously, but come on. Chances are we’re gonna be seein’ each other more than either of us wants to, so just open up a bit,” he says, and you frown. “There’s nothing you need to know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me something about you.”

“I killed Norman Osborn with my guitar after defeatin’ him and all of his V.E.N.O.M. forces and successfully led a rebellion against fascism,” he says smugly, “Until those other fuckin’ Nazis showed up, but one day I promise you this world? Will be capitalist and fascist free.”

“No, it won’t. Am I supposed to be impressed?” you ask with a deadpan face. He scoffs. “Damn, you’re a wanker. I’d like to see you try and defeat the V.E.N.O.M. forces. From what I seen your world’s villains are rubbish,” he says and to his surprise, and yours, you laugh. A hint of a smile plays on his features, but you shake your head. “Green Goblin is, you’re right, but... there are others who are much worse. And what the fuck is a venom force? You’re saying that like I should just know what it is.”

“It was a symbiote that– wait, you sayin’ you don’t know what venom is? That’s something every spider-person deals with at some point,” he says, and you shrug. “Guess I haven’t dealt with it yet.”

“Yeah, well, when you do, call me cause you’ll need my help,” he says and you roll your eyes. “I’d rather die than get help from you.”

“I helped you today, love.”

“I could have done that myself,” you retort, and he shakes his head, taking another drag. “I guess I should thank you though.”

“Hmm?”

“For not telling them what we were really talking about,” you say, and he hums. “What they won’t know won’t kill ‘em. But just so you know I was being so serious. Not talkin’ about that shit is more harmful than good,” he says, and you frown. “I’m not much of a talker.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up,” you groan, and he laughs. He loves pissing you off, might be his favorite thing to do now. But the conversation might actually need to get serious. He may hate you, but he’s Spider-Punk for the people, and you’re apart of that people. He’s there to help, so he may as well try with you.

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why not? Why won’t you talk about it?” he asks, and you huff. “Because it was my fault, and I don’t want to think about it.”

“Nah, I bet it wasn’t your fault,” he mumbles, taking another drag. You glare at him. “Oh, right, I forgot you were there when their neck snapped after I tried to save them,” you spit, and he glances at you. You can feel that hit starting to affect you, that’s the only reason you said anything about… the incident. Of course, Hobie has good shit, why wouldn’t he. “What were you trying to save them from?” he asks, his voice oddly calm. “The Prowler,” you reply, “He’s the worst of the worst in my universe.” He hums and nods. “Well then, reckon it’s the Prowler’s fault then, innit?”

“What? But I’m the one who couldn’t get to them in time after he–”

“He did it, (Y/n). You did your best, but it ain’t your fault what happened there. That’s what they want you to think. Try and get that through your thick skull, would you?” he says, and you scoff, “They?”

He nods, and you go quiet. He glances over at you as you just sit and stare out at the city. “Stop doin’ ‘at.”

“Doing what?”

“Blamin’ yourself,” he says, taking another long drag. You sigh. “I can’t help it,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “You can. Just takes time,” he responds. You scoff, “You’d think three years would be enough time.” You look out at his city. It’s so different from yours, but you can still see the beauty in it. And you can see the stars. None of the constellations of your world are here, but the sky is still beautiful. “If you need a place to crash, my couch is very comfortable and has your name written all over it,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “I should probably just go back to my universe–”

“No way. No dimension hopping under the influence,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “I had one hit,” you say, and he shrugs. “And one hit is enough for you to think you’re goin’ home only to end up in Peter Porker’s shower. You’re stayin’ here tonight.” You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m insufferable for watchin’ out for your well-bein’? Okay, sure.”

“I don’t need you to watch out for me. I don’t need anyone,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Too good for everyone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Like you wouldn’t say the same thing,” you say, and he shrugs. “You’re right. I would say I don’t need anyone, because I don’t. Especially not a miserable thing like you,” he says, and you frown. “Good.”

“Great.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

The two of you just glare at each other for a bit before he flicks the butt of his joint off the building. “Goin’ to bed. See you tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Shut up and follow me back to my place,” he says, getting up and walking down the building. You follow, yawning as you realize just how tired you are. When you get back inside Hobie’s place, he points at the couch. “Lay there, and don’t move until mornin’, got it?”

“I’ll do what I want.”

“Amazin’. Just don’t wake me up, and I won’t give a fuck,” he says, walking into his bedroom and kicking his door shut. You roll your eyes and lay down on his couch. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable, and you find yourself actually dozing off faster than you anticipated. Hobie walks out of his room to get a drink of water and ready to fight you verbally again, only to see you passed out on his couch with literally no blanket or pillow.

He sighs, grabbing a throw blanket off his bed and gently placing it on top of you. In the morning, you wake up before everyone else. You notice the blanket, and know only one person could have done that, but you don’t feel like sticking around to say anything. You just go home. But before you do, you leave a little note saying, ‘didn’t need your sympathy, thanks but no thanks,’ and draw a little middle finger.

He’ll get the hint you appreciated it.

───────────────────────────────

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[justporo]

Hello! Very sorry if your post was rhetorical, but you asked for Astarion fluff and I had an idea. Since he's a canonical cay person, I like to think that a druid Tav would enjoy wildshifting into a cat and lounging in his lap, either acting as a heat source or letting him run his fingers through their fur when he's nervous or upset.

Anon, thank you so much. I immediately had a scene in my head and this was a true delight to write.

So now that I'm already crying from replying to that other Anon message (not their fault ofc), let's return to our regularly scheduled fluff, eh?

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You, Druid this time) Wordcount: 1,8k

Cats with Benefits

Sometimes it got all too much. Those were usually the moments you used your wild-shape abilities to shift into a cat and strolled off into the forest to have some moments of peace and quiet.

Today had been an especially exhausting day – the party had been fighting and bickering trying to figure out how to get through the Mountain Pass. The way was always steep and only loosely fixed, so you only made very slow progress and all of you were already completely exhausted came noon. So, you had decided that you’d take an additional rest midday when the sun was high and hot, adding to your already physically demanding hike.

You had put down your pack, went a few yards into the nearby patch of trees you had stopped at today to use their generous shade, and shifted into your usual form of a fluffy black cat and started to stroll around the small patch of forest. For some time you just wandered over fallen trees or through the underbrush, enjoying how differently it was to experience nature from the perspective of a feline creature. You loved it – it was almost like meditation for you.

The others didn’t know you wandered off like this sometimes. Or at least they hadn’t mentioned it. They wouldn’t leave without you and so far, you’d always gotten back to them in time. And as of late tension was high enough that everyone was pretty much occupied with just themselves, so they didn’t miss you.

After some time, you found a nice big rock in the sun on a clearing in the woods. Perfect for a cat to lounge on and take a nap. You jumped up, allowed yourself a long full body stretch and a big yawn and then rolled up into a ball of fur to enjoy the sun and some time alone.

As you laid there, your thoughts started to wander. You thought about your companions. You liked them, each and every one of them. Naturally, some more than others but you respected them all. But the path through the Mountain Pass had been a strain on all of you. And it really hadn’t helped that today everyone had just seemed on edge from the very first step on out.

Specifically, Astarion had been incredibly annoying today. Not being able to stop complaining about everything. Always replying with a sarcastic remark. To be honest, your relationship with him was probably the hardest and most formal of all thus far.

You had already realised that his flirty and sassy behaviour obviously were his coping mechanism for something deeply troubling, but by the Gods, it seemed he could never shut up. He was hand full at the best of times. Your furry ears started to twitch and the tip of your tail zig-zagged just thinking about it.

You tried to clear your mind then after your thoughts kept spiraling, hoping to relax enough that you could actually sleep a little.

But only shortly after your peace was broken.

“Well hello, who are you my beauty? A descendant of a mighty mountain lion? Rawr.”

No, it couldn’t be… The damned vampire had found you.

Of course he didn’t know it was you, but…

You opened one eye lazily and saw Astarion lean down to you, reaching out one hand to stroke you. Your jaws opened and you could already feel the hiss inside you rising to the top, but oh.

His touch was so gentle. His fingers softly stroked from the top of your head down your feline neck and back and you couldn’t resist leaning into his hand when he started again from the top.

“Someone likes that, hmm?”, Astarion said softly while petting what he received only as a wild but friendly cat.

Shifting into an animal also meant adapting some of their unique abilities and habits, so you couldn’t help when your feline body responded to the gentle touches by purring.

The vampire was positively intrigued when he heard that. As you opened your other eye you could see his big smile – a genuine one. You had never seen him smile like that. “Seems like someone’s just as touch-starved and desperate for some comfort as me”, he whispered while continuing his pets. That made your ears perk up and you immediately felt for the pale elf. Questions filled your mind about his unknowing revelation.

But you had barely any time to ponder them because suddenly the vampire scooped you up into his arms and sat down in front of the boulder you had laid down on. You yelped – or rather meowed at the sudden change of position.

Astarion moved carefully with your cat self in his arms until he was laying in the grass, legs angled, and you snuggled up against his chest. Since he had donned his armour and was only in his camp clothes you could feel his body, beneath your own.

This was incredibly weird and would probably end up with an awkward revelation but – you couldn’t deny that it was also very delightful.

“We can be cuddle buddies, my beauty, at least for an afternoon. So we can both get some much needed affection, hm?”, Astarion whispered to you. His red eyes looked so sad saying that. Whatever you had started to think about to get out of this situation evaporated. Suddenly, you only wanted to keep him company – it seemed he desperately needed it.

And the way he unknowingly had started opening up to you: it was a good albeit saddening look on him. You wanted to provide some comfort it that was what he seeked.

Also, it felt incredibly good to lay there on your new vampiric stone, soaking up the sun together while Astarion carefully continued petting you: scratching behind your ears, stroking down your back with both hands, even when he tickled one of your paws with a single finger. And you couldn’t stop purring. That bastard knew exactly what to do to keep the purrs coming.

Then after a while he just laid there with you, hands on your soft and shiny fur. He sighed: “I wish I could take you with me. You seem to like me. At least more than my other companions.”

Your ears perked up again, you looked at him but he had his eyes closed, head lolled back to enjoy the warming sunlight.

“Especially, Tav”, Astarion continued with another sigh “I wish I knew a way how to change that.”

That was it. You couldn’t in good faith continue to lay there with him as he offered up his innermost feelings. You got up and jumped off the vampire’s chest who got up on his elbows looking sad by your departure. You sat there and shortly pondered if you should just leave, keeping your secret. But you couldn’t, you needed him to know – and also have some words with him.

You changed back into your humanoid form, making Astarion scurry back from you, eyes wide with shock.

“Hi Astarion”, you whispered as you knelt beside him.

“You – what? How? Oh, I knew your eyes looked familiar!” His voice rose several octaves and you kept silent as his mood changed from shock to anger – but he stayed where he was.

“What the fuck was that about? Trying to spy on me?”, he hissed at you. Excuse him? He invaded your privacy. “I was here first, you bastard!”, you spat back and crossed your arms over your chest.

“And you didn’t think to reveal yourself before I proceeded to make you fucking purr?” “How when you didn’t leave me anytime in between petting me and lifting me up? I only wanted to be alone!”, you screamed back.

That made Astarion’s shoulders slump a little, some of his softer side returned. “I’m sorry”, he said quietly.

“No, I’m sorry”, you replied and looked down at your knees while pressing the balls of your head against your forehead “I should have said something way earlier.”

You looked up at him: “But then you sounded so sad and I… didn’t want you to be sad so I let it happen and it was kinda nice... I’m sorry, I invaded your privacy like this, Astarion. I’ll just leave and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

You saw the surprise on the vampire’s face who remained silent. So, you moved to get up, but Astarion quickly grabbed your wrist. “No, please. Stay… It was nice”, he confessed and looked into your eyes. The look he gave you was almost pleading.

The urge to move in and hug him overcame you, so you acted upon it – you had already laid on his chest, hadn’t you? How much worse could this make it?

You moved in and wrapped your arms around him – surprising the yelping vampire so much that he fell onto his back again. You were scared that you had crossed yet another line but to your own surprise you felt his arms wrap around you in return slowly.

And so you hugged him long and tightly. He was tense at first, but you felt him relax after some time. He even started to stroke your back again. You squeezed him and held onto him trying to offer him as much comfort and affection you could muster.

“For the record, I do like you, Astarion. You’re just annoying sometimes. But so can the others be, and I too”, you spoke into his chest, squeezing him yet harder. “And if… if you need someone to maybe talk to or hug you or just, you know, lounge in the sun… I can also change back into a cat, if you want me to. I could be your cat with benefits so to speak”, you brabbled into his shirt before you got too shy to make the offer. Your words were muffled but you hoped he heard you.

He did and the vampire chuckled softly. “That sounds… nice. Thank you. I may take you up on that if you promise you will keep this our little secret”, he answered hesitantly. You lifted your head from his shirt but not letting him go. “Would you like me to change back into a cat?”, you asked him and blushed as you realised what kind of weird deal you had just made with the vampire.

“No, Tav, not this time. This… this is very nice too”, Astarion replied and gave you another – the second this afternoon! – genuine smile. And this time it felt even better, knowing it was actually meant for you. You smiled back and placed your head on his chest again. Astarion’s hands kept softly wandering over your back as you kept holding him.

This is where you comfortably remained until it was time to get back to camp. But you were both sure it wouldn’t be the last opportunity to enjoy a nice cuddle in the afternoon sun.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Oct 21st

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1. Hiii first of all i just wanted to thank you for being able to find the fic i was looking for last time :)) im looking for this fic that i cant find anywhere it was a modern au on ao3 where wangxian dated in hs or college but lqr forced lwj to break up with wwx (through txt if i remember right) but wwx didnt know that lwj was forced so when they meet years later and lwj is working for the lan company they hire wwx and the wens to work on the cybersecurity and wwx is rlly angry while lwj is just pining. TIA!! @draconislyra

FOUND? Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 108k, wangxian, modern, angst w/ happy ending, romance, persuasion au, separations, pining, miscommunication, depression, self-harm, reconciliation, smut)

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2. theres this fic and i forgot the title, but its where jin ling has been wearing wwx's protective bracelet since he was a baby and assumed/thought his mom gave it to him and the bracelet is rlly effective! but in guanyin temple, su she(?) broke it but wwx fixes it and strings the bracelet back together

FOUND! a symbol to remind you that there's more to see by paperminds (T, 9k, JC & JL & WWX, canon-compliant(ish), post-canon(ish), Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mild/Moderate Angst, angst with happy ending, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Twin Idiots, Reconciliation)

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3. Hi! I'm looking for a specific fan fiction i remember that both wwx and lwj has lived a long and happy life and now they think it's time for them to leave the world lsz is very upset and doesn't want to let his parents go they go upto a field to fall asleep or smth, there was also wwx telling lwj how tired he is, I've been dying to find this one

FOUND? The Sea Calls Us Home. by selfptrts (T, 3k, WangXian, ZhuiLing, Suicide, Hurt No Comfort, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, wangxian are married and have a son, xicheng if you squint hard enough, Mentions of Canonical Character Death, Assisted Suicide, References to Supernatural (TV), References to Canon, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Immortality)

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4. Hello! I'm in desperate need of help. I'm trying to find this one fic where NMJ gave WWX Baxia since he couldn't wield her anymore. I remember a scene where he was struggling with her but then JC(?) told him he was still using sword forms so he needed to find a different way. Thank you so much in advance!!!

FOUND? Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It) WWX definitely ends up weilding Baxia in Lynchpin, and there's a scene about WWX creating a new Sabre sword style.

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5. Hii, I'm looking for two wangxian fics that I unfortunately don't remember much about. A) The first one was one where the war was solved and WWX joined DafanWen, I remember that Dafan's robes were pink/peach and I think DafanWen became a medical sub-clan of Lan.

B) The second one was a post canon where WWX basically adapted to life in Cloud Recess. He learned to knit and I think the fic had a tag that had to do something like "something about gender roles". @canisirio

5A)

FOUND? 💖 Light Source by abCEE (M, 31k, wangxian, not Jiang friendly, no golden core transfer, fall of the jiang sect, happy ending)

5B)

FOUND? Reeds in the Wind by merakily (T, 26k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Yunmeng bros Reconciliation, Rabbit Therapy, Sewing Therapy, PTSD, Emotional Baggage, Hurt/Comfort, JC is Bad at Feelings, JC Needs a Hug) I feel like it's not the right fic but it does have wwx doing embroidery

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6. hi this is for fic finder!

i think this is starts when wwx is still in the burial mounds with the wens and he's called? because lwj is sick like literally in bed, unconscious with fever sorta sick. I think it turned out to be a curse or smth related to his golden core!

also another fic, also these two fics coild be the same so I'm not sure

it could've been related to the first request, I kind of remember wwx sacrificing or getting harmed to save lwj and then all the Lan elders kind of give wwx a new core in the caves in cloud recesses

this is really messy, I'm just trying to say that I remember these 2 points and they could be in 1 fic or 2 different fics

thank you sm @bunnycoffeeumcat

FOUND! Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 59k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & JGY, Canon Divergence, Fix-it fic, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions, LWJ’s emotional repression, WWX giving everything as always, LXC realising sympathy is not support, LQR Being an Asshole) for the first point but not the second so I guess this is 6a?

FOUND? 🧡 decay by antebunny (G, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, the fluffiest ending, Hurt/Comfort) Are they maybe thinking of decay by antebunny? I know the ending of the fic has a similar scene to what they were describing

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7. Hi. I am looking for a fic where Baoshan Sanren knows about Wei Wuxian’s fate but cannot directly interfere. Instead she raises Mo Xuanyu as a cultivator and Talisman Master who helps Madam Jin keep Jin Ling safe in Lanling Jin before leaving for the Imperial Exams. Before he can reach, he is assassinated by Jin Guangyao. Wei Wuxian then wakes up in the body and decides to write the exams, becoming a high ranking minister. The emperor takes an interest in the cultivation world a few years later.

FOUND? Awakening: Return of the Patriarch - Another Way by SplitGirl28 (M, 35k, WIP, Transmigration, Related to Jin Guangslut again, Nobody has access to WWX's notes, Experimentation Underway, Established SongXiao, A-Qing Lives)

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8. Hi! I'm looking for this fic where wwx and lwj are thrown into an arranged marriage together, and don't know each other. Wwx is generally happy and excited, and lwj sees this and immediately hates him, bcoz he wanted a calm, quiet spouse to live with. The whole thing is orchestrated by Madam Yu, who basically abandons wwx at cloud recesses bcoz she figures he would be miserable here. Lwj doesn't like him to or try to understand him, so wwx slowly gets more and more depressed and suicidal, kind of as a parallel to Madam lan. I think he tries teaching for a while, and he's very good at it, but the elders step in and claim he's corrupting the children, so that's that. He finds the yin iron, and plans to destroy it worth a circle that will also take him out along with it, but before he can go through with the plan lwj realises how depressed he is and starts making an effort to help him. The fic ends with lwj offering to run away from cloud recesses with him, and wwx telling him no, he doesn't want to be some sort of shameful indulgence, if lwj really wants him he'll stay and fight with the elders on his behalf @arsonistbydaylibrarianbynight

FOUND? Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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9. Hi! For the next Fic Finder, I’ve been trying to find a fic where LWJ leaves the CR to go help WWX in the Burial Mounds. It kind of starts of with LWJ and WWX confrontation after WWX rescues the Wens. There’s a sequence where LWJ is gathering stuff to take to the Burial Mounds. Then in later chapters it’s LXC, LQR, and a couple of Lan Elders going to Yiling to try and bring LWJ back to the CR. They find him in Yiling, selling produce, only to discover that LWJ is living a happy life with WWX and is no longer following Gusu Lan’s rules as he lets a bunch of kids decorate his hair. Sorry this is super long. I can remember what happens in the fic, but for the life of me I can’t remember the title. Thanks a bunch!

FOUND!🔒Unpack Your Heart by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 22k, wangxian, Romance, Everybody Lives, Canon Divergence, LWJ Has Feelings, Protective LWJ, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, Wangxian in Love, YLLZ WWX, Lan Clan Elders are Assholes, Minor Transgender Character, Qiongqi Path Divergence, LWJ loves his bunnies)

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10. hi - i’m looking for a f/f wangxian fic. lwj and wwx start as friends but there’s obvious sexual tension (wwx still thinks she’s straight, and keeps “baiting” lwj). lwj lives near her mom, and she bikes to visit her with wei ying. there’s a scene where wwx is wearing novelty panties with a weed leaf on it? and wwx turns out to have nipple piercings which makes lwj go insane? eventually wwx is like “i may not be a woman but you’re a lesbian so you can’t love me.” and lwj is like. nah. i love you?

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11. Hi! This is for fic finder. I honestly dont remember if it was a fanfic from this fandom or a chinese bl novel i red years ago. It didnt help that i dont remember much of the story. I will call them mc and ml (if it was a fanfic, wwx is the mc). They are an actor. The mc got a big role and there are a sex scene in the film with the ml. And then the mc catch a feeling to the ml. The plot of the movie they shoot is where the mc always running away. The movie plot kinda resobate with the mc feeleng. And the writting style is tell a twi stoey. The movie plot and the fic. Long story short, the mc get kidnapped. I dont remember if its trully happen or the movies's plot but i think the mc was genuinely kidnapped. The kidnapping is meticulous that make people tell the ml to brace himself for the worst case scenario. The ml helped to find the mc. In the end, the mc is found but in the bad shape. Near the end of the story, they are in shooting where the plot is the ml found the mc. They hugged and the staff say that it feels genuine.

Im 80% sure its a wangxian fic. I read that around 3-4 years ago. Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

Hi im #11 in recent fic finder. I dont know if it will help but it involves a cottage (where wwx is held when he is kidnapped), a river (i think their investigation lead to the river and found a red scraf), a red scraf (i think wwx knit it? I dont remember but it his). Its not outsider pov and not a twitter fic (i dont know what is called). I think the film they play is a porn one? (Not sure about this part). Thanks!

NOT FOUND! call me, beep me by myung (T, 39k, wangxian, modern, social media, actors au, celebrities, chatting & texting)

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12. fic finder: does anyone remember this one fic where lan qiren was looking for a way to get wwx a new core and he calls for people to make spiritual donations or something? wwx didnt think anyone would volunteer but when he looked there had been a huge crowd gathered to help him

FOUND! I'm Sorry & Thank You by Iamnotawriter (T, 12k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Golden Core, Canon-Typical Violence, lqr's epipheny, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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13. Hi, can you help me find a fanfic that I missed? It was about WWX who died (supposedly in his world, devoured by corpses) but he travels to another dimension, he thinks it was because of the Stygian Tiger seal, and finds another version of himself that was from that dimension. There is a specific scene where WWX (modern) teaches WWX (cultivator) how to use the shower and WWX (modern) talks about Su She who was his boyfriend and such. In the end, Huaisang reveals that the two WWX have the same DNA and that he has never seen an identity of him. / oi, podem me ajudar a achar uma fic, (hi, can you help me find a fic,) It's from wwx that he dies and travels to another dimension, where he meets another older wei wuxian, this wwx (modern) is investigating a case of dead people, there's a scene where they take baths together (Wwx (modern) teaches wwx (cultivator) how to use showers) and wwx talks about his jerk ex-boyfriend who was su she, there's a specific scene where wwx (modern) confronts su she (ex-boyfriend) he (modern wwx) meets lwj who was a teacher of something and they end up getting close.

(this part moved to Itmf)

both requests by @quwieiidkd

FOUND? so when you go wherever it is you will go, take the moon with you by comforting_monachopsis (T, 138k, WWX & WWX, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, wangxian, JC & WWX & JYL, past WWX/SS, past WWX/XY, canon divergence, time travel, dimension travel, modern, private investigator WWX, professor LWJ, trauma, serial killers, strangers to lovers, BAMF WWX, hurt WWX)

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14. I'm looking for a fanfic, but I can't find it. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji share an unsatisfying night, but fate keeps bringing them together. thanks! ❤️

FOUND? 🔒 Bad Sex, Good Loving by Nyatci (E, 18k, WangXian, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/referenced WWX/Others, Implied/referenced LWJ/Others, One night stand WangXian, PWP, but like, Bad Porn with Good Plot, The Plot is the Porn being Bad, Self-Esteem Issues, Communication Failure, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, Practice makes perfect, They work on the communication thing eventually, Under-negotiated Kink, mild angst with a very happy ending, BDSM Undertones, Consensual Non-Consent)

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15. hi this is for ficfinder!

I think this was based in the 1900s? and lwj is an exorcist of sorts, and I think wen qings family calls him for help, because I kinda remember her opening the door for him and granny is also there. wwx is a Gardner in the wen house and he's also the necromancer. I think the phrase used was similar "there's a friendly gardner"

thank you sm!

FOUND? sweet beneath sharp edges by isabilightwood (E, WangXian, Historical, Jazz Age, Light Horror, Demonic Cultivation, Ghost Possession, Haunted House, Cultivator LWJ, Gardener WWX, disabled character (WN), WRH is not a good uncle (or father), Mystery, LWJ is sent to exorcise a house and flirts with the gardener instead, said gardener may or may not be the monster he was sent to kill, Madam Lan Lives, Monsterfucker LWJ, Bottom LWJ, Resentacles, flirting via fruit, Weirdo4weirdo wangxian, Oral Fixation, WWX eats the rich (literally), Power Bottom LWJ but wwx is still in control)

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16. Hi, I’m searching for a fic I read quite some time ago. Wwx actually remembers Lwj confessing to him after the Burial Mounds siege and then they’re kinda forced into a marriage? Lwj goes to live with wwx and the wens but wwx treats him horribly. Lwj by then had been whipped and so he’s terrible pain all the time.

Thank you so much 😊 @bcozwhythefuknot

FOUND? ❤️ A Myriad of Blossoms by Itszero (E, 56k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, YLLZ WWX, Hurt LWJ, Cruel wwx, he’s cruel until he’s not, Protective WWX, Caring WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Dark WWX)

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17. Hi!! I've been looking for this fic for a while, I hope yall can help me. So what I remember is that LWJ becomes the YLLZ's concubine, spouse, bed warmer? They spent years apart, and WWX held some resentment due to a misunderstanding (LWJ was punished with the whip and couldn't be besides him?) I remember this scene where LWJ is wearing a (silk?) robe. Then WWX funds out about the whip scars and It was a whole thing that solved the misunderstanding, I believe. It may be a AU since there was some kind of Magic besides canon stuff? Like, the Wei Sect? members were part something (demons, animals, idk) and It happened to LWJ too for being in the BM. Oh, and MXY and A-Yuan were there too! I hope someone can help me. Thank you!

FOUND? the necromancer's fairytale by iliacquer (E, 17k, WangXian, Top LWJ, Bottom WWX, but they have switch energy, safe sane consensual noncon kink, is the Yiling Patriarch a kink, incoherent worldbuilding is incoherent, Past Torture the lan family are terrible sorry, Rough Sex, Pain Kink)

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18. hello! i'd like to ask for a fic finder! it's at least two-three years old, and on the shorter side i believe??

the first one is CR study arc, where lwj believes wwx's prank was specifically because he found out lwj is a cutsleeve/has feelings for wwx. i think he gets silently angry like canon, and later he confronts wwx about it? (it's not works/32795896 though it's similar)

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19. Hi! I'm looking for a specific fic - I think I read it at least 2 years ago, maybe earlier. WWX is hidden by (I can't quite remember if it's after 13 years or before hand) JC and JYanli, and pretends to be a woman whilst figuring what to do now. Jin Guangshan hits on her, and as always, LWJ falls for WWX in a different form. Whilst at the Golden Carp Tower, WWX is also in a wheelchair - I can't quite remember why. Everything gets revealed eventually.

FOUND? My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

The Housewife's Guide to Causing Chaos by dvasva (M, 132k, WIP, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Functionally Trans Character, Mild Sexual Content, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, Transphobia, Good Parents LWJ and WWX, Pining, WWX is a Tease, Grief/Mourning, Body Dysphoria, Fake Marriage, Canonical Character Death, Misunderstandings, Doting LWJ, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, WWX is not in MXY's body, Misgendering, Mild Angst, Assumptions, Comedic Elements, non-sexual nudity, Blood, Discussion of Various Bodily Functions, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, 4 years of mourning instead of 13, Méishān Yú Sect, POV Multiple, Corporal Punishment, Trans WWX, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, pregnancy mention, Timeline What Timeline, Sexual Harassment Threats) Both of these have jgs being a creep towards wei ying

FOUND? Wei Wuxian, Who's That? by bumbledees (T, 48k, wangxian, crossdressing, pining, sibling feels) Both of these have jgs being a creep towards wei ying

FOUND? By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal) idr if theres a wheelchair involved for sure. i feel like there is but im gonna be honest i always forget abled ppl exist so in my mind when i read everyone is using mobility aids all the time until i get reminded otherwise lol but i do recall that he is weak and regaining energy so its possible he was using a wheelchair atp for that reason ? either way its a good fic

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20. Hello, i love what you're doings! A fic I'm looking for: JC and LWzj time travelled and decided to fix canon. As such, they spent a lot of time together. But that lead to everyone- especially wwx - to think they're a couple. Wwx is okay with it, but really bothered that he keels getting dragged into their dates @midnightlighthowlite

FOUND? ❤️ For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by sami (E, 65k, WangXian, Time Travel, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Canon Divergence, Asexual JC, First Time, Getting Together, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ)

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[snoringkitty1]

Sunday Boyfriend Headcanons Tw: Mildly suggestive content, fluff :>

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Obviously, Sunday is a very busy man, running a whole resort/dreamland is rough especially when dealing with so much at once.

Hes so pretty?? How could you possibly land him?? Pure absolute luck i tell you.

At the start of your relationship, because of how busy he is, he might not make much time for you initially..i feel like sometimes he just forgets.

Since he's so forgetful in the beginning, it'll be up to you to start up stuff, dates, cuddle sessions, naturally both with take thorough planning to fit into his schedule.

During these dates or cuddle sessions though, i bet he's just the sweetest thing, or the slyest thing, the in-between being a flirty shit.

He's sweet though, behind that politicians smile, he's the type of guy who just loves to have his hand held, or his face, not a fan of having his cheeks pinched though, makes him feel childish.

You are his pillow, you have no choice, none at all, and who are you to deny him?

Personally, i have a head canon for all angelic characters that messing with their halo's can help them relax, so doing that after a long day? He has ascended.

You glanced at the clock as you scrolled through things on your phone to keep yourself awake, It was a pleasant surprise whenever you were still awake whenever Sunday got home. You paused your video and sat up a bit when you heard footsteps coming down the hall, smiling to yourself and setting your phone aside and crossing your legs. A cheery yet tired look on your face as Sunday opened the door and met your eyes with tired look of his own. "Ah..stayed up late again?" he chuckled and bit back a yawn as he walked over and kissed your forehead, "Naturally, you look so much happier when i stay up for you." You pointed out and he shrugged, "I thought i could hide it better, but i suppose not." He smiled and turned away to go change and get ready for bed, you plugged your phone in and got cozy in bed and waited for the angelic man to return. His wing appendages fluttered softly as he walked over and flopped onto you, a robe covering most of his body, though the top was was loosened to feel less suffocating. You looked down at him and raised a brow before laughing, "You act like someone's racing you to use me as a pillow." He looked up and hummed, his wings reaching up to tickle your cheeks, "This spot belongs to me." He stated confidently and tilted his head when you rolled your eyes, I thought that was already established?" His darker look faded into a pleased one, smiling as he laid his head on your chest again and promptly closed his eyes, this was your usual queue to toy with his halo or the wings on his head. Doing so put him to sleep like a form of lullaby, the sound of his steady breathing filled your ears, a clear sign he was asleep. "Goodnight.." You whispered softly, before falling asleep yourself.

He can be manipulative at times to get what he wants from you, but its typically nothing bad, things as simple as what place you two will eat at.

His charm is more less what he uses to get to you.

For all that he is or goes through he's just a soft little thing by the end of the day.

Even if he only ever wants affection the way he wants it, he's still sweet about it, or hot :>

If you by chance decide to deny him, he'll just escalate and get his affection through more pleasant means for the two of you.

Top, definitely, loves the control he has when on top.

If you want to top him, just tug the wings on his head, he'll go weak.

Endurance..well, he can last a fair bit.

Aftercare though is really nice, he seems like the type to get you a shirt and a bit to cool off before offering to take a long bath with you.

Sunday took a moment to admire your exhausted state, his gaze fixed on the stands of hair that he was toying with while you gathered your baring's. "You look happy with yourself.." You mumbled, smiling at him before sitting up. "Naturally." He hummed and sat up, gently patting your back before getting out of bed and walking around to pick you up. "Huh? Where are we going?" you inquired and glanced up at him before realizing he was carrying you to the bathroom. "A bath, so we don't wake up feeling gross." He smiled and set you on the sink counter and pecked your lips before he turned away to start filling the bathtub with water, even adding in some bubbles to make it better. "Oooh, awe~" You smiled and tilted your head, "Thank you..". "Well, it is the least i can do dear, if i have the time tomorrow we can go out for a date, hm?" He smiled and picked you up and set you in the toasty water with bubbles nearly overwhelming you before you laughed and relaxed. Sunday hastily joined you, sitting across from you before he pulled you close and held you in his lap, "Feel free to fall asleep..i'll be here to hold you up." he whispered and kissed your neck, "don't gotta tell me twice~" you smiled and leaned back against him and closed your eyes. Sunday smiled and watched you fall asleep, pressing kisses against your head and neck and would continue to do so till you both got out.

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Thanks for reading.