#but it's a gift. so i have to like it or whatever -_-

[averysmolkirbo]

"Woahhh, am i in the afterlife?-"

"DUDE. WHAT THE HELL MAN. OUT OF ALLL THE MORTALS I COULDVE GIVEN A GIFT TO, I CHOOSE THE ONE GUY WHO NEVER FIGURES IT OUT???"

"Wha- are you like god or something? wait, I HAD A POWER??"

"YEA. I GAVE YOU THE POWER TO FREEZE TIME AT WILL AND YOU NEVER DID IT??? Waste of a perfectly good gift!!"

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW. I WAS NEVER TOLD ABOUT THIS?"

"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MAKE THE DAMN BALONEY SANDWICH."

"wha- what does a baloney sandwich have to do with this???"

"I WATCHED YOU FOR LIKE A MONTH. AND YOU ATE A BALONEY SANDWICH FOR LIKE EVERY MEAL. YOU JUST STOPPED ONE DAY AND NEVER DID IT AGAIN. WHAT THE HELL, MAN. YOU HAD LIKE 50 FUCKNGI YEARS TO EAT ONE FUCKIGN SANDWICH AND YOU COUDLNT DO THAT?"

"Wait. Is this about that time i was like, 20??? I swore off of baloney sandwiches forever after i found my girlfriend cheating on me. That was her favorite. i only had it cuz i was with her."

(mortal, under his breath)

"....That bitch really took my virginity and my godly powers??? DAMN IT!"

"AW OF FUCKING COURSE I CHOOSE THE ONE THING YOU NEVER ATE AGAIN. SHIT. "

"ok so i still dont see why i had to eat a baloney sandwich to use the power. why couldnt i just *use* it. why is this MY fault. YOU shouldve just made it easier to use."

"Wow, i give you powers and this is the fucking thanks i get? See if i ever help you again..."

"Ok so like the thing is im not actually powerful enough to give you a gift that powerful no strings attached. I had to choose an activation condition for it to work."

"And you chose BALONEY SANDWICH? not something like BREATHING?"

"I didn't want to make it obvious!! I wanted to have FUN with it but clearly you were too DENSE for it. Baloney sandwich was the most consistent non-obvious thing you did!! how was i supposed to know you were gonna stop the NEXT DAY?"

"Ok. So while this obviously sucks for both of us, can i use it now? In my afterlife?"

"If you can make a baloney sandwich. I dont see why not."

"Ok. Cool. Is there like a godly pantry i can get the ingredients from, or...."

"Yes, actually, down the hall, to the left, 2 doors down."

"Sweet."

"Oh yea i forgot to mention we only have whole wheat bread"

" >:( aw man. I hate whole wheat. It tastes like shit. What else, you're out of baloney?"

"No......"

"why'd you say it like that"

--------

"Ok i found your stupid bread. but where's the baloney. You said you had some."

"We do, but-"

"ok so where is it."

"-but we keep it in the underworld."

"Why??? What do you guys have against baloney??? Why is only IT condemned to the underworld???"

"No reason! I swear! the guy who runs the place just REALLY likes it and none of us really do, so we just let him keep it down there"

"Yknow since he's like. Already stuck working in the basement. we thought we'd give him SOMETHING."

*one very long and perilous journey for baloney later*

"ok YOU COULDVE AT LEAST TOLD ME HOW HARD THAT WAS GONNA BE."

"I told you, man. He REALLY likes baloney."

"Whatever. i ate your stupid sandwich. how do i activate it."

"Try clapping."

*nothing happens*

"What. Why didnt it work. I ate your stupid baloney sandwich."

"Did you remember to add the mayo?"

"MOTHERFUCKER-"

You're a god who has decided to give a mortal a gift. You decided to surprise them by not telling them about their new power. After a full life of normalcy, you greet them in the afterlife confused and angry as to how they didn't discover their power.

[rmadridcore]

Boyfriend Headcanons

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Requested

Word Count: 1K

Author's note: Another request, thank you anon! Enjoyyy 🫂🩷

He’s not joking when he says it was love at first sight.

That boy saw you and you knocked the wind out of him. Like, every single cheesy love song suddenly made sense to him. Not that he’s complaining.

“Babe, I saw you, and I was done for.” And he means it. Really means it.

Jude is a serious simp. Like, on another level. No shame though.

He is the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend in the world.

He is the type of boyfriend to leave little notes in random places, like in your bag or on the mirror.

“Missed you already” or “You’re my favorite part of the day” in his messy handwriting.

He has your favorite snacks on hand 24/7, tucking them in your bag when you’re not looking. He gets so excited picturing you reaching in later and lighting up.

He’s the biggest tease in the world, not letting a day pass without some good natured ribbing.

Everyone knows he’s extremely competitive. You would think that he would be a gentleman and let you win when you two play games but no. He lost? Oh, he’s pouting until you bribe him with kisses all over his face.

Jude is low-key so overprotective. He keeps you close in a crowd, hand firmly laced with yours.

Also, Jude 100% knows the sidewalk rule. He always makes sure you walk outside of the sidewalk.

He’s the type of boyfriend to show that he cares for you in the smallest ways.

Always peeling the straw for you, sliding the salt over in case you need it during dinner, adjusting your scarf if it’s chilly.

By the way, you only bring your wallet for decoration when you’re out with him. He’s got you covered, period.

He’s the most supportive boyfriend ever. Whatever you’re passionate about, he’s right there. Cheering you on, sending encouraging texts before a big day, asking hundred questions about it.

He’s also the definition of impulsive gift-giver.

You remind him the color of that sweater? He’s already bought it. Found a mug with a cheesy pun you’d love? Done. “Can never have too much,” he says with a smirk.

He’s absolutely obsessed with the bond you have with his family. His parents adore you and he couldn’t be happier about that but, but, truth be told, he finds the fact that you and Jobe are always ganging up on him very annoying.

He’s an actual cuddle monster. Literally. If you’re with him and he doesn’t have his arms wrapped around you, what is he doing?

He swears his arms were “made to hold you,” but he also loves resting his head on your chest, loving when you play with his hair. The little spoon sometimes is his spot.

He says he loves to cook but that is the biggest lie known to a man. He just loves being in the kitchen while you’re cooking. He’ll sing into the spatula, mess with the ingredients, and kiss your neck until you end up doing most of the work.

“Just here for moral support,” he’ll say, grinning while you roll your eyes.

Subtle PDA is his specialty. He doesn’t go overbroad, but he’ll lace his fingers with yours in public, place his hand on your lower back, squeeze your thigh and lean in just close enough to let everyone know you’re his.

Good morning texts, guaranteed. Whether it’s his sleepy face selfie from bed, a quick snap from training, or a random shot of something that reminds him of you, he makes sure you start your day with a smile.

He asks the most random questions at the most random moments. You could be lounging on the couch with him and he’d be like “If animals could talk, which one you reckon would be the rudest?” Or, “Who do you think would win in a dance off, me or my coach?”

You both have tons of inside jokes. Sometimes it takes a one look or a one word and you’re both cracking up uncontrollably.

He is actually obsessed with snapping candid shots of you. Whether you’re laughing with friends, squinting at the menu, or lost in thought, he loves capturing you in your most natural moments.

Jude has this adorable habit of kissing your forehead at the most random times. If you’re talking excitedly about something, he’ll suddenly lean over, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “I love how passionate you get about this.”

When he does it in public, he’ll pull you close with a slight smirk, like he’s silently telling everyone around just how much he adores you.

He’s memorized exactly how you like your coffee and surprises you with it just the way you like when you’re feeling lazy in the morning.

If you’re still in bed, he’ll bring it to you, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder to wake you.

Sometimes, he’ll try to make cute designs in the foam but laugh when they look more like blobs.

He’ll randomly offer you a piggyback ride, even if you’re just walking a short distance. He claims it’s because he’s “keeping you safe” but really just loves carrying you around.

If you’ve had a long day, he’ll give you a piggyback ride all the way to bed, tucking you in with a soft kiss on your forehead and a cheeky, “Lucky I’m here, huh?”

When he’s away, he leaves you cute, funny voice notes throughout the day. They range from “Hey, miss you” to “Guess what I saw today?”

Sometimes, he tries to make up a song about you, laughing through it because he’s making up random lyrics that don’t rhyme.

Whenever you have a small problem, like a squeaky door, a broken lamp, or your favorite necklace clasp breaking, Jude takes it as his personal mission to fix it, even if he doesn’t know how.

He’s ridiculously proud when he finally fixes something and says he’s “earning boyfriend points.”

Jude often talks about the future with you in it. He’ll casually say things like, “When we have a place together…” or “Our future kids would be the cutest,” and then he’ll get adorably shy, rubbing the back of his neck, realizing what he just said.

In conclusion, Jude Bellingham is a huge boyfriend material.

[tan1shere]

Passion Painting

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: Was watching my show when I got a little inspired by an episode :D kinda quoted a line from it too because it was fitting. I'll make it bold so you guys know ! - I literally need this woman rn (or even a dom in my asks that'll be great too.)

Summary: you get a gift so you and Billie spice things up a bit ;)

Warnings: smut ! Scissoring 🥰 bills being a bit rough 😫 (i personally love how this turned out)

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug

masterlist

The door opens, hearing keys jingle. Billie was finally home and you had missed her all day. But she doesn't come empty handed. You had just come into the room, greeting her. "Hey baby, what's that?" She sets it down. "Well, it's an early Christmas gift from Claudia. She said we can open it whenever? Whatever that means." You tilt your head. "Do we open it now?" She takes her shoes off, looking at you. "I mean if you want to, she didn't say otherwise. So I'd say its fine." She smiles at you, going over to give you a kiss.

"Good day?" - "It was ok, bit slow work wise but apart from that it was good." You say, going to pick up the box wrapped with festive paper. Bringing it over to the dining table. "How's Finn and Claudia? Did you get much done today?" She nods. "They're good, and yeah a little bit thank goodness. Glad to be home, missed you." You go to kiss her again. "I missed you. Right lets see what we have here." You say, ripping the thin material. Reading the box outloud.

Confusion strikes you. "What is it?" Billie asks. You turn it around so she can see, reading out the words to her. "Passion Painting Erotic Art Kit." She makes a face of realization. "So that's why she said to do it at night time and maybe after a date. I was so confused." You look at her. "You wanna do it?" She thinks for a moment, smirking to herself. "What? Slather you in paint and fuck you? Without a doubt babe." You grin widely. "Sounds like a plan then."

Giggles echoed though the house as you open the front door and speed over to the kit. Billie close behind. "I've actually been thinking about this all day." You admit. "Oh yeah?" She comes close to you. "Sitting in your desk at work, clenching your thighs as I smear paint all over your body. Over your curves." Your faces were close to one another, inches away. You bite your lip, averting your eyes to look at hers. They were natural apart from a little liner making them look plump and inviting. You lean in to kiss her but she pulls back.

Causing an annoyed groan to leave you. "Billie." You whine. She chuckles. That fucking chuckle. It was menacing. "Why don't we make this a little challenge." Your head tilts with intrigue. "I'm listening." She goes to unbox it, waiting a moment before she speaks again. "Let's see how long we can go without kissing one another." - "What-?" She turns around. "Don't think you can?" You think for a second. "Fine, let's see who looses." She smirks. "I think we both know who that's going to be." Your eyes roll. "Yeah yeah." But her hand grabs your jaw.

"Such an attitude for someone whos about to get fucked on the floor." Your throat closes up finding breathing to be the last thing on your mind currently. You both spread the canvas out. But in reality, you're going to be the canvas spread out at the end of the night. She'd make sure of it. You pick up the paints. Gold and blue. "Which?" She looks at them. "Hmm blue." You hand her the blue. "Right well I better get out of this." You began, back facing her. Slightly bent over as you stand back up. She smirks to herself grabbing the zip at the top of your dress. And swiftly pulling it down.

You gasp as the air hits your nipples. Since the dress had no straps you went against wearing a bra. Now standing almost fully naked in your kitchen, you two had moved some furniture around so you'd have the right space. "Oops, well I mean now all you need to take off is that tiny. Tiny. Pair of underwear." You had to process how fast she was with the dress you almost didn't register her hands pulling the thin material of your underwear off. It was only then when you realized how cool everything got. A shiver running down your spine. You wanted to kiss that smirk right off her face.

But you couldn't, you had to remember the game. "Your turn." Her smirk stays, grabbing her shirt from the back with one hand, lifting it off her head. Hair becoming messy. She takes off her pants next because she too, didn't put a bra on. There was no need. But you definitely weren't complaining. Your eyes stare for a moment. Maybe if you focused on that and not her really, inviting lips you'd be fine. But God were you wrong. You just wanted to grab her and kiss her. You both stand fully naked infront of one another.

Your nerves getting the better of you as she stalks closer to you. The lid pops off the paint. As she hands you the blue one. "We have to put it on one another." But her words went out one ear and out the other. "Hey." She says getting your attention. "Focus baby." Your eyes meet hers, handing her the gold. There was still some plastic on it so she brings it up to her mouth, getting ahold of it and ripping it off. All while keeping intense eye contact. You were going to be dripping soon. And not with paint. Her lips come to the cap, popping that off and out of her mouth. She squeezes a good amount into her hand. "You're going to be so gold you'll look like one of my Oscar's."

You gulp back saliva, you were almost drooling. Even more so when her hand makes contact with your skin. The paint was a little cold, but her burning hands soon get rid of that. Your body starts to become hot. Nerves coming back more prominent. She rubs it all over your chest, moving down to your tits, having it around most but leaving your nipples free. She had plans. Her movements were incredibly slow, making you more needy. She made sure she got your whole body, minus the places she needed access to. Standing back and letting you take over on hers.

Your shakey hand comes in contact with her neck. "Nervous?" You shake your head. "That's not really an answer huh?" You couldn't look at her, you just couldn't. You were close to giving into everything how was she so God damn calm? Your mind races as you come to her breats, you were hesitant but eager to touch them. "Why so Nervous huh? It's as if you haven't touched them before, when we both know that's not true." She was getting you to break, to give up on the game. "You're making this harder.." You whisper out. "Is that so? Darn, I didn't even realize." You pout slightly. "Can't go on?"

You think for a second, shaking your head. "Im fine." You say as your hands move over the rest of her body. "So shy, sweetheart." You swallow. "N-no I'm not." Her brow raises. "Don't lie." But she softly grabs your hand, moving them over her body. "See like that, not hard is it?" You whimper. "You're making it hard Bills." Your eyes look at her with a pleading glint. "Shame." Her eyes look down at your body. "Think its time we have our fun." She says, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down on the paper. Letting her hands move to your breasts. She had the left a part of your neck blank, bringing her lips to it and kissing.

"Billie.." You breathe out, but she moves her hands and grabs your ass tightly. "Uh uh, say it correct." Your head spins. "Mommy." - "Good girl." Your eyes shut. Trying so hard to resist the urge to kiss her. "Mommy please." You say, grabbing her arms and moving them down to her waist as she begins to move her cunt on your own. Your first moan of the night slips out. "What? Are you all sad you can't kiss me darling girl? You agreed to the challenge no?" You zip it. Hating that you did agree to it, you didn't care anymore. You go to switch positions getting ontop.

"Please let me kiss you please." Her hands rest on your lower back as you desperately move your pussy on hers. "Please Mommy, need it so bad." She smirks. "I can see angel. You've never done that before I guess you truly mean it." You pout again at her, she was playing with you and it was driving you mental. Moving down to attatch your lips to her own. But she serves, loving the little frustrated whines you let out. "You're so mean." Her hand instantly wraps around your throat and in the blink of and eye she was back ontop.

"What was that princess?" Her grip tightens making your words float away. "Hm??" You try to talk but it's no use. "Exactly what I thought." Her hand grips your thigh, hoisting it up to dangle on her shoulder. Her hand remains around your throat while the other is on the paper, close to your head and surely leaving a handprint on the almost covered paper. Your body's making art. Surely a night to remember. Her movements become harsh making your mind race, your mouth hangs open at the feeling of both of your wetness together. She watches your eyes roll back, and slowly seeing your lids drooping.

"there you go, fall into subspace that's it. You beautiful being." You had no thought other than her, the way she was fucking against you. Absolutely no words left. Her hand stays firmly around your throat. Your bodys soon come close together. Your breasts touching, nipples grazing one another and that was it. That was all it took for you two to gush against the other. Her lips come crashing down onto your own, loosening her grip to hear your sinful moans travel into her mouth. She groans as she rides out both of your orgasmns. Flopping on you to catch her breath. "Wow." You say. "Wow indeed."

You had a nice soothing shower together, getting comfortable in your bed. Snuggling up close. Until you grab your phone. "What're you doing?" She asks. "Thanking that amazing woman for even thinking of this for us." She smiles, letting out a laugh. "Thank her for me too." You then smile to yourself. "You do know you lost your own game right?"

"A wins a win when you get to fuck your girlfriend and showcase it on a wall for everyone to see and know that you're all. Mine."

[endless-ineffabilities]

be young, be dope, be proud

dynasty heir Aemond x heiress reader

a/n: randomly and carelessly drafted after a night out, so don't even ask me what this is. title obvi from Lana. also, I feel like the setting here is an acquired taste. so, enjoy? 💁🏼‍♀️🤍

themes/warnings: spoiled rich assholes, New York/modern references, language, clichés galore, Targs are like the Kennedys if that whole family was pure evil and Rep, SMUT, angst between brats who clearly want each other, also—you're kind of a hypocrite

main masterlist

The estate reeks with old money: marble columns, ancestral portraits, and a long dining table loaded with crystal and silver. Chandeliers try to warm the place, but it's all cold opulence. Outside, the gardens are cut and tamed to show that even nature has a price.

Your father always brings the family along to stately dinners up there in Westchester, with the usual crowd in attendance—the Targaryens, the Velaryons, the Lannisters—the whole lot.

Between them, they could probably purchase every building in Manhattan without creating a single dent in the bank.

Hell, maybe they already have. Generational wealth truly is the gift that keeps on giving.

You've tried to distance yourself from it. From people whose words drip poisoned honey and condescension. Being waited on like new order royalty.

But who are you to talk, when your father's lineage traces back to the fucking Mayflower? You and them are one and the same—filthy rich and borderline insane.

It is nearly impossible to maintain a steady sense of self, to have ample room for personal growth, when everything, every single thing, is handed to you on a silver platter. There is no tension there, no struggle, no need to exert any effort.

Failed your courses? Your father donates a building to the university. Aemond gets several DUIs? His great-uncle is a Supreme Court Justice. Aegon nearly burns his friend's house down while throwing a bacchanal-themed party? Let's just say that friend is grounded. For a week. Oh, the horror. Their family had many other estates, in many other places anyway.

When there are no real repercussions to your actions, you will feel like you can do just about whatever you want.

Burn the world down, for all you care. You can just buy a new, better one.

Granted, not everyone in your circle is an entitled egotist. There's Helaena, who strangely enough, does not possess a single self-important bone in her body, unlike her aforementioned brothers. Jace, who spends most of his time getting involved in political activism, for the side that his magnate grandfather Viserys steadfastly opposes.

You'd always sit beside either of them in these dinners, for the sake of your sanity. Unfortunately, Aemond and Aegon are never far. Especially Aemond—who occassionally stares you down as he sits across the table. Aegon, seated to his left, whistles at you. "Hey. Hey so... are you still slumming it with the art crowd?"

"I'm sorry?" You narrow your eyes at him. He didn't even say hello or mind if I cut in? as Jace was telling you about attending the DNC rally.

Aemond watches you again, so closely it raises goosebumps along your arms. He's been stealing glances at you ever since you arrived with your family. And you've been openly shooting glares at him when you sense it. Him and that steely one-eyed gaze of his always gets under your skin.

Aegon sneers, and you think how it's so in character of him. "You still live in Brooklyn? Cosplaying as a normie?"

"Fuck off, Aegon."

You've been living in Brooklyn for the past year, trying to finish up your Masters from Barnard. You would never hear the end of how this is the most redundant and useless thing, especially from people like Aegon. It does seem contrived, daddy's little heiress playing at being a scholar at Columbia, but at least you are doing something.

Besides, you have no desire to take over your family's empire. If anything, you want to branch out, maybe take on Jace's proposal on starting a charity foundation together.

"Aegon! Do you know how messed up that sounds?" Jace comes to your rescue, but you know it'll be for nought. Aegon's brain is too warped, too silver-spoonfed, to recognise his folly. You used to feel sympathy for the guy—this life is all he's ever known, and it isn't as if the adults around him ever set a good example, so can you blame him?

Used to. Now, he just annoys you. You grew up the same, but you are not like him, aren't you? So did Hel and Jace. So did Aemond. And Aemond, while still an asshole, is at least someone you can tolerate. He's vicious when it comes to his ambition, but he's genuinely smart.

He's cold and aloof, but he is also capable of tenderness.

You would never readily admit to anyone how you know this about him.

And he's staring you down, once again. You immediately know it's him when you feel someone nudge your shin under the table.

You eye him warily. What do you want?

He raises his eyebrows. Nothing. Just missed you.

At least that's what you're picking up from him. Why wouldn't he miss you? You're probably the best thing in his life right now. He should be so grateful you're still giving him the time of day, especially after everything he's done.

Aemond nods ever so subtly, the gesture meant for only you. You already know what he's getting at, but you don't feel like caving just yet.

It's another long moment of tuning in and out of your conversation with Jace, but Aemond's unspoken question lingers. When you deign to look at him again, he tilts his head to the side. Let's go.

He knows to leave first, and he stands and excuses himself from the table. Barely anyone gives him any mind, the adults debating passionately at the farther end.

You wait one whole minute, your heels tapping impatiently under the table. Then you follow suit.

"I need some air. Might have a smoke or something," you mumble to Jace. He wouldn't want to tag along, the scrunch of his face revealing how much he loathes the habit.

"Just the one," he tuts, raising a finger.

You roll your eyes fondly. "Okay, dad."

Aemond has just lit a cigarette when he hears you come in. The door to the private library lets out a tiny creak then shuts without a sound. He faces the window, his back to you. But he knows it's you. He can almost hear the derision in your exhale. A hint of your unmistakeable Guerlain scent is present in the room.

When you draw closer, he sees the ghost of your reflection on the glass, a mirage perched atop his shoulder. He thinks of the age-old visual of having an angel and a devil on either side. You would be the angel, and the devil... would probably be his own self.

The side he fights to keep buried. He knows you see it, and hate it, but you want him anyway. You let him have you anyway. And these stolen moments with you are the only times when he is truly free.

Without a word, he offers a cigarette to you, his hand moving with a smooth, practiced form that makes it feel like he's not just offering you a smoke but issuing a silent challenge. He lifts his lighter, an intricate, expensive thing engraved with his family crest, flicking it open with a soft metallic click, then holding the flame steady as you lean in.

He can't help but admire how beautiful you are as the glow illuminates your face.

"Do you ever get bored?" you sneer, folding your arms as you lean against a shelf. "Sitting there all night with that smug, 'yes, I agree with all of this' look while your family drones on about the 'sanctity of tradition.' Like a good little heir."

Aemond raises an eyebrow, barely looking up from his cigarette as he takes a drag. You sure have a habit of getting right down to business. "Funny," he replies smoothly. "For someone who 'hates' tradition, you play the part of Daddy's obedient little princess pretty well. I saw you batting your eyes at every gray-haired councilman at that table."

"Oh, please." You roll your eyes, heat flaring in your cheeks, though whether from anger or the way his gaze always seems to pin you in place, despite your best efforts, you can't say. "I'm not doing it because I like it. I don't sit there pretending I'm better than the rest of the world."

"You don't?" He cocks his head, his lips quirking into a wry, infuriating smirk. "Could've fooled me, princess. All I ever hear from you in these dinners are 'Oh, absolutely' and 'Oh, that's so interesting'—like you'd just die if they didn't think you cared."

"Wow, okay, says the guy who spent twenty minutes nodding along while they debated the tax breaks for HNWIs. Planning to cut yourself some more slack there, hotshot?" You take a quick, sharp puff, the smoke billowing out of your lips as you continue your tirade. "You're a damn statue, Aemond. Most of the time, you don't even say a word, and yet somehow you sit there looking like everyone should be grateful you graced them with your presence."

He takes a step closer, and his voice drops. This is something only you can do—you get to him, you hit him where it matters. Or, you're the only one he allows the privilege of doing so. "And you hate it, don't you? You hate that I don't care what they think. That I'm not actually here to impress anyone."

Your laugh comes out bitter. "Please. You don't care because you're so convinced they already think you're perfect. You don't have to impress anyone because you're Aemond Targaryen, right? The perfect heir to a glowing legacy."

"Better that than playing the poor, tortured rebel." He's so close you can count the facets of the sapphire in his socket, a dangerous gleam flashing behind them—another outlandish, excessive thing only a billionaire's son would think to do. "At least I'm not pretending I want to burn it all down while running around in the same circles as everyone else. Tell me, do you actually care about the policies Jacaerys painstakingly explains to you? Or is it all just for show?"

"You don't know me, Aemond."

"Oh, but I do. In fact, I think I'm the only one who knows the real you."

You clench your jaw, craning your neck up to look at him. How ironic that he literally has to look down on you too. "Unlike you, I actually feel something about all this. You sit there like you're above it all, and it's pathetic."

"Pathetic?" He lets out a low, humorless laugh. "You want to talk about pathetic? The only thing pathetic is you standing there acting like a revolutionary when you're just like the rest of us."

"At least I want to get out. At least I want to make a goddamn difference and—"

"Then do it," he says, his tone mocking, as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your face. "Get out. Run off, make your big escape. Show everyone how different and special you are, princess."

"Oh, right," you shoot back, trying to regain some of your moxie after his unexpected retort. "And leave you to taint my image after then?"

He scoffs, the gesture dismissive, almost cruel. "You wouldn't be here if you actually had the guts to go through with it."

Aemond may be a pretentious asshole, but he's right, and you know it. "You know what, Aemond? What if... I tell you that I like it. The power, the status, all of it. Is that what you want to hear?"

He smirks. "You'd be adrift without it. You'd be lost without all this to complain about." His gaze drops to your mouth, as if he could already guess exactly how a rendezvous like this is going to end.

How it always ends.

You feel your breath hitch, your pulse racing even as you grit your teeth against the draw of him.

"Don't look at me like that," you snap, trying to keep the upper hand. You should leave. You know this, know you should storm out and leave him here with that damn arrogant smirk on his face.

Call it a truce, and do it all over again next time.

"What's wrong? Afraid you'll do something you'll regret?"

The challenge in his tone has you seething, heat blazing up your neck. "You're insufferable, you know that?” You try to sound as furious as you feel, but your voice wavers, and the corner of his mouth tilts in a dark, smug smile.

"Then leave, princess." His eyes flash, daring you, mocking you, yet he doesn't move back. "Go on. Show me that strength you keep talking about."

The words are meant to push you away, to test how much you can take, but they do something else instead. They push you over the edge, sending you surging forward before you even know what you're doing, fisting the front of his pristine shirt and yanking him down to you.

Your mouth meets his, all anger and fire, biting at his lips as he smirks against you, welcoming the aggression. His hands find your waist, pawing at your gown, pushing you back until you stumble against the bookshelf.

You try to hold onto the anger, to use it to keep yourself in control, but the way he kisses you—rough, possessive, familiar, with a hunger that seems to match yours—makes it impossible. His hands slip to your hips, fingers digging into you with a desire that you both pretend doesn't exist anywhere but here, in the dark corners of your little meeting places.

"Stop," you gasp for breath, pulling away for just a second, trying to steady yourself, but he follows, his mouth trailing down your jaw to your neck, biting down just enough to make you groan.

His fingers slip beneath the slit of your dress, finding bare skin. "Then tell me you don't want this."

Your head tilts back involuntarily, the blissed hitches in your breath becoming frequent. You should tell him to stop, but the words never come, not with his fingers tracing up your thigh, the pressure of his lean body against yours, the electric shiver that races through you as his mouth tongue dances with your own.

You give in, letting your anger melt into something messier, something that's been building between you both for so long you don't know how to unravel it. Your hands move to his white-blonde hair, pulling him closer. His hand slips higher, while the other is braced against the bookshelf behind you.

There's nothing careful about it—gone are the dynasty heirs who are unfailingly curated and perfect and genteel in the public eye. It's all frantic, hands grabbing, mouths clashing, neither of you willing to let the other take control but both of you giving in to the heat. He yanks your dress up, lifting you and positioning himself between your legs, his breathing rough as he makes quick work of his belt. Then he lets his trousers and underwear drop halfway down his thighs, and his cock springs free, pressing on the draped material of your gown, which you hurriedly bunch to the side.

It's like a sick power play when he takes two fingers and plunges them past your soaked entrance, right to his knuckles. All without breaking eye contact.

But neither has the upper hand. You and Aemond are one and the same.

"Seems like you're ready for me, princess."

"Mhmm, aghh—" He hooks his fingers inside you, hitting that damned spot. "Just fuck me already."

And when he does, his cock practically propping you up against the bookshelf, it's fast, chaotic, your movements nothing short of needy and desperate, as if you're both trying to prove something to the other. You don't care about the priceless first-edition books that rattle precariously behind you, nor about the way his fingers dig into your flesh that guarantee bruises that will show tomorrow. Right now, you're past caring, past pretending that you actually ever cared about anyone but yourself.

And maybe... Aemond.

His groans come out unrestrained against your neck, his tongue flicking over the droplets of sweat, as if he can't bear you being any less than perfect.

Only he can taint you, only he can see you broken in and fucked out like this, your lipstick smeared to the side of your mouth. That same shade of rouge littering his cheek, his jaw, the collar of his shirt.

No words are exchanged, as if they've been used up in your twisted version of foreplay from earlier.

All he offers is, "Fuck, baby, I'm close," as his hips continue in its assault, his hands buried in the softness of your arse, keeping you in place.

"So am I," you counter.

He falls apart inside you, his cock sputtering while lodged deep in your clenched walls. The near-animalistic growl he lets out brings you to your climax, your forehead falling against his as your entire body is rendered limp in his arms.

When you finally pull away, flushed, your heart still racing, he looks at you with that same arrogant smirk, and you can't help but feel the distaste rising back up.

"Still think I don't know you?" he murmurs, smug satisfaction written all over his face.

You glare at him, pulling your dress back down, refusing to let him have the last word even as his expression uncharacteristically softens as he gazes at you, making you want to pull him close and kiss him again. Gentler, this time.

"This can't happen again," you force out your usual lie.

"That's what you said last time, princess."

Vhagar taglist: @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @joyismm @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @all-for-aemond @alokaaaaa @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk @inesdiary96 @weirdblob21 @lonelyladyghost @tssf-imagines @nurtargaryen @paula-lkr @queenofshinigamis @breezyjin @empfm @amanda08319 @unrealwinchester @optimizche @seamaiden @spoffyos @subliiminals @believeinthefireflies95 @ex0tic-vgh @anukulee @mrsmunson-harrington @romyfe06

[silentgravesdontexist]

Do you like watching sunsets?

• I love sunsets! Especially when its by the beach and the skies are just the perfect mesh of blue, violet, and orange. Ahhh, it feels so good to imagine walking along the shoreline while watching the sun set. But I do confess that I like sunrises better since I'm a morning person~

What would easily win you over if someone gave you it?

• Books, food, anything related to my faves, and/or if the gift contains the thought of "this reminded me of you" (even if its a rock, piece of paper, flower, or whatever— I will very much treasure it bc I think it's absolutely adorable). I don't really receive gifts often so I pretty much would love getting them no matter what it is!

What three words describe you?

• Whimsical, expressive, and weird.

Favorite ship and why?

• (Me and my faves) Going Merry— I mean, NaLu. That ship has me on a chokehold since I was a child. The sentimental attachment I have on them is insane. Also the blueprint to my desire for "best friends to lovers" kind of thing.

@kora-vevi

As for my question for you, I gotta go with 3, 16, and 25🫶

Deep/Fun Questions to Ask!

Do you like watching sunsets?

Have you ever started a rumor?

What makes you laugh hard?

What's the last concert you went to?

If you believed in it, what would you be reincarnated to?

What's your current vocal stim?

What shirt are you wearing?

Who or what is on your mind?

What are your favorite pair of shoes?

What would easily win you over if someone gave you it?

What three words describe you?

What's a funny memory you have?

Do you have any drunk stories?

What's one thing you own that you're sure no one else has?

Do you have any superstitions?

What is your guilty pleasure?

What weird thing do you do when you're alone?

What is the worst food you've ever had?

What fictional character would you bring to life if you could?

If you could join a career immediately, what would it be?

What keeps you going during the day?

Current song on repeat?

Funniest inside joke?

What's your favorite piece of jewelry you own?

Favorite niche topic?

What fandom are you currently in?

Most controversial take?

Favorite ship and why?

Do you have any piercings or tattoos, and what are they?

What is your worst & best quality?

[hearts4hughes]

present wrapping - nicholas chavez x fem!reader

holly jolly november

you and nicholas are sitting on the living room floor surrounded by wrapping paper, ribbons, and half-wrapped gifts. nick, looking a bit lost, holds a lumpy, unevenly wrapped box in his hands while you can’t help but laugh.

“okay, so… what exactly is this?” you giggle, pointing at his interestingly wrapped present.

with a sheepish grin on his face, he blushes, “a masterpiece? or maybe an abstract art piece. wrapping paper’s like my worst enemy right now.”

“yeah, i can tell.” you smile as he scratches the back of his neck. “give me that, i’ll teach you.”

half-wrapped present in hand, he shuffles closer to you on the floor. you take the present from him, removing the wrapping paper, and placing it down. as you explain to him the steps of present wrapping, he can’t help but be distracted by how pretty you looked under the christmas lights.

you and nick had always been close friends. you met through a mutual friend and clicked instantly. people joked around calling you platonic soulmates and nick always smiled, internally wishing for more. and now, with your soft voice and stunning face, it was harder for him to hide his feelings.

“earth to nick?” you snap at him and raise your brows. “are you even paying attention?”

he blinks his thoughts out of his eyes and nods. “uh- yeah.”

you roll your eyes with a playful smirk. “well, you better be because i’m making you do it yourself afterwards.”

he chuckled. you were always sassy and sarcastic, two of the many things he loved about you.

“and done!” you held up your perfectly wrapped box with a box fastened on top. “why don’t you try it? just fold and tape, it’s pretty simple.” you say it like it’s the easiest thing in the world as you hand him the roll of tape and wrapping paper.

his mouth is agape at how easy you made it seem. “you mean, try to not tape my fingers to the box?”

“exactly. small goals.” you begin laughing as he manages to tape down the paper without issue. he looks at you with a smug expression, taking pride in how he did the first step.

you watch as he focuses, carefully folding the paper like you showed him, his brows furrowed in concentration. there’s something endearing about how hard he’s trying, and you can’t help but smile.

“not bad… okay, okay, you’re actually doing pretty well,” you say, grinning. “maybe i am a good teacher.”

“or maybe you just have the patience of a saint.” he chuckles, nudging you with his shoulder.

finally, he secures the last piece of tape, then looks at the gift, a bit crooked but charming in its own way.

“there,” he says, looking at you proudly. “what do you think?”

“i think you’re a natural.” you both laugh, the sound warm and easy.

there’s a quiet pause, and you realize how close you’re sitting. the christmas lights cast a soft glow, and for a second, you wonder if he’s feeling the same thing you are.

“thanks for helping me… and for putting up with my terrible wrapping skills,” he says softly.

“hey, anytime,” you reply, meeting his gaze, your voice dropping to a whisper. “it’s actually kinda fun.”

a beat of silence falls over the room like snow on christmas eve. the two of you gaze into each others eyes and for a moment, time froze and only the two of you existed. nicholas’s eyes flickered between yours and your lips.

without another word, he leans in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle, unexpected kiss that feels like it’s been waiting to happen for a long time. it’s soft, warm, and perfectly timed, just like everything else tonight.

he pulls back with a smile. “sorry, i-”

you interrupt him, “i don’t mind.” your face is flushed with maroon hues. you try to regulate your breathing.

“good, because i’ve been wanting to do that… well, for longer than i’d like to admit.”

you lean into him with a content smile. in that moment, you felt whole. like whatever had been missing inside of you had suddenly been filled. you both let out a small giggle, content with this now cherished moment.

[razehider]

if i celebrate one thing that happened this year it has to be my gifted brain slowly coming to the realization that when photographing weevils, approaching them on their host plant and praying they don't drop into the abyss of leaf litter doesn't have to be your only option. i didn't want to risk losing this Lixus pulverulentus so i simply got it on my hand for some photos, and all i had to deal with was some weird nibbling and cheeto dust on my thumb

they also like to do this for whatever reason. i think it's embarrassing

(July 20th, 2024)

[perfectlyoongi]

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who gave you a ring to seal your relationship. it was just a romantic gesture that made Jin happy, something that didn’t have much value beyond an oath of loyalty and fun. he asked you to choose the ring, wanting to see your preferences right from the start. would you like to have something golden on your finger that reflected all the light and magic that existed in the cosmos? or would you prefer a silver-plated ring, splashed with all the tears in the universe? whatever you wanted, Jin would give it to you and made sure you only received the best. it was with a big smile on your lips and an immense curiosity in your eyes that Jin saw you choosing something that called to you. it was in those small minutes, it was when he noticed all your smiles and the way your eyes sparkled, Jin realized that his idea had been something worthwhile – you simply looked divine when you had the entire cosmos on your tray. “don’t look too much at money. if you like it, say so. let’s try it and if it’s really chosen by you, i’ll buy it. even if it is as expensive as all the stars in the universe. this will be proof that i will always take care of you.”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who buys you an apartment next to his so you’ll be a call away. since the beginning of your relationship Jin realized that you would be a very important person for him. he could not explain, but you had a magic capable of making Jin believe that what you both had was deeper, more special than many other relationships. as such, and knowing that he would need you at more random times, Jin was quick to find a solution. the most beautiful apartment in that neighborhood was waiting for you to appear to be bought for you. without telling you anything, Jin remodeled the apartment to your taste, always getting a reaction from you without suspicion of what was going on. and when the works came to an end and that house had many resemblance to your ideal house, Jin just gave you the key and, with a smile on his lips and pride in his heart, just told you to enjoy it. “see this as a gift of thanks for everything you have done so far. and i know you think you did nothing to deserve it, but believe when i say that without you my days would never be lived.”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who just wants the week to end so he can be with you. when the week went by and Jin didn’t have the chance to be with you, he would show up at your house with a box of new clothes and an invitation to dinner. although you are a constant in Jin’s life, always talking to him electronically, opportunities to be together were scarce due to the divergence of your work schedules. as such, when the week came to an end and Jin knew perfectly well that there was no excuse for you to turn him down, he would invite you for a night out somewhere in the city. trying different restaurants every time, staying in the most comfortable hotel there was, you and Jin made those nights eternal in exchanges of affectionate caresses and seductive words. when the week came to an end and there was finally a chance to relax, Jin couldn’t think of anything else but you - Jin’s entire being was only able to rest when it was you who sprinkled his body with that heavenly magic from your lips. “tomorrow’s meeting was postponed, so i can stay late in the morning. this time there’s no excuse not to love me.”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who likes it when you whisper in his ear. when Jin’s lips caressed your neck with devotion, sending shivers through your body and relaxing your mind, you couldn’t think. with your eyes closed, tilting your neck to make Jin’s worship easier, you allowed your worries to be expelled from your body with all the tenderness and care Jin had for you. wrapping your fingers in his hair and letting your entire mind become clouded by Jin’s love, you couldn’t control the words from slipping out of your mouth and brushing against Jin’s ears. and it was when you called out to him as if his name were a prayer, when you asked him to give you more, when you just lost any control over what you said, it was in those exact moments that Jin believed the world was a beautiful place – your total surrender was enough to turn that place into an ethereal eden.

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who spends every valentine’s day with you. neither you nor Jin believed that valentine’s day was a day that should exist – you both knew perfectly well that the appearance of this date was just to collaborate in the great web of capitalism that covered the world. but that didn’t stop Jin from wanting to celebrate it. yes, you and Jin weren’t really a couple, and almost no one in your lives knew of the other’s existence. but he couldn’t deny that there was a certain charm about that day. maybe it was because everything was pink and hearts, or because there were so many chocolates or stuffed animals, but every year Jin insisted on spending that day with you. and every year you always did the same thing: breakfast at your favorite cafe for you to eat your favorite cake, followed by a walk through the most beautiful gardens in the city before going to eat at Jin’s favorite restaurant. in the afternoon, after watching a movie at the cinema and eating ice cream, you and Jin would get ready for a more refined dinner where he would always offer you a rose for every moment spent with you. it was something simple, a very common and quite childish ritual – but it was something that Jin enjoyed, more for your company and shared memories than for the full meaning of that day. after all, you made every day special for Jin just by being you. “i don’t think there’s a good movie for us to watch this year, but we can always watch one at home. that way we can feel more comfortable and enjoy the day better. what do you say? you can choose the movie this time! yea?”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who makes all your dreams come true. he liked to spoil you, make you feel special, and all he asked in return was for you to always be honest with him: what did you want? where did you want to go? what did you want to do? nothing was impossible for Jin. whatever you wanted, he would give you. you were the only important person in Jin’s life, you were the only person he knew would never leave him; yes, you might think it’s all part of your contract, but the reality is that there was something much deeper to your relationship – and you both knew it. so let Jin make you as happy as you make him. let Jin give you all the world to thank you for all the stars you stole to keep him warm. let Jin worship you and he promises that you will never live on this earth feeling inferior. everything he was, you helped him to be. whatever you wanted to be, he would help you be. everything. “everything! you might even want a unicorn riding an orangutan. you can ask for a cup full of heavenly dust to wash your face. you can want everything, the whole world, the entire universe, and i promise, i swear, that i will give it to you. even if i have to fight the gods themselves to get it.”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who takes you to all his family events. it was the greatest honor there could be: you meeting Jin’s family. you had to admit that when he first suggested it he made you a little nervous, and when it actually happened you almost panicked. after all, what did Jin have in his head to want you, his sugar-baby, to meet his family? was he crazy? no. he wasn’t really crazy. he was slightly in love – the difference was almost zero. so introducing you, the most important person in his life, to his family, those people he would always love, meant so much more than you could believe. in brief exchanges of words, among so many conversations and laughs, you began to integrate into Jin’s family, being seen as Jin’s shy and captivating partner, with so many people praising your relationship. like someone who cultivates a plant, your relationship with Jin germinated into an intense flower of devotion and love – everyone had to see how beautiful you two were. “thursday i have my uncle’s birthday and we’re going to the restaurant you like outside the city. do you want to come? today we could buy you a new outfit and then you can come with me.”

[takumasheisty]

・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱ Love Languages・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

Included: Isagi, Barou, Nagi, Kunigami, Reo

Synopsis: Different ways the blue lock boys show their love for you ☆｡･:*:

Pairing: male character x gn!reader

a/n: honestly this is all fluff to cleanse my mind of the smut i've been writing. Also I really dislike Isagi’s part but he’s my favoriteeeee 😔 idk why my writing is so poor

Isagi - words of affirmation

Isagi is your biggest hypeman. He constantly praises you, complementing every single one of your features. More than often, you catch him staring at you like he’s analyzing your face. It would be creepy if his intentions weren’t so pure.

“Your eyes are so beautiful Y/N”

Every once in a while, he likes to pack you a lunch. Along with the sandwiches and animal shaped fruits he packs you, there’s always special notes.

“You’re amazing, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

There was one time he was in a rush, and he forgot to write you a little message. Of course, you noticed and were disappointed, as you looked forward to his sentimental messages each time. He acknowledged this, never failing to write you a paragraph.

His favorite phrase consists of three words - I, love, and you. Everyday he makes sure he says it to you at least once, and you can tell that it’s always genuine and from the heart.

Barou - acts of service

Barou doesn’t say “I love you” often, but he definitely shows it. He loves to do everything for you, and will get upset if he sees you doing any task.

“What’re you doing? Sit here, I’ll do it.”

It’s not that he thinks you can’t do it, he knows you’re very capable. But he believes that he should be the one to do everything around the house, so you can relax. “As a good boyfriend should.” he always insists.

He’s a great cook, and loves to make you all different types of foods. What’s more, is that he’s attentive. He takes note of the foods and deserts you like the most, so he can make them more often. And he does the dishes. He hates to see you washing anything, so he does after part as well.

Nagi - quality time

Ever since you guys began dating, you’ve been attached at the hip. Everywhere you are, he is. He loves spending time with you, even if he’s just napping next to you while you’re immersed in your favorite book. He trails behind you, even if you’re just walking to the bathroom or the kitchen.

One time he was was napping, and you wanted to go get some takeout. The second he felt the weight of the mattress shift, he woke up.

“Where’re we going? He spoke in a sleepy voice, set on following you to wherever you we’re planning to go.

You guys don’t even need to be doing anything specific, he simply enjoys being in your presence, it makes him feel safe and comfortable.

Kunigami - physical touch

This boy always has to have his hands on you. Not even sexually, he just always has to be touching you in some way. You always find his arm wrapped around your waist, and his fingers intertwined with yours, especially in public. Kunigami has no shame. He will show that he is yours, holding hands and following behind you like a puppy.

Kunigami likes to snake his hand up your shirt and feel your chest. Again, nothing sexual, he just loves feeling as close to you as possible.

“Ye’r so warm..”

His favorite hobby is cuddling. He will cuddle you whenever, wherever like a giant teddy bear. In bed, on the couch, on the floor I promise it does not matter. As long as he has you lying on his chest, he will cuddle you whenever he can.

Reo - gift giving

Reo’s mindset is that he has money, so he might as well spend it on you. Every week you end up with a new piece of jewelry and a bouquet of flowers. You insist that he doesn’t have to buy you so many gifts all the time, and it makes people think you’re only with him for his money, which you’re not.

“Don’t worry about what others are saying, I know you love me. Besides, I can spend my money on whatever I choose.”

Whenever you two go out, he swipes his card like crazy, buying anything that you seem even the littlest bit interested in. Now you guys are walking out of the mall, him carrying 7 bags of whatever with a satisfied smile on his face.

Reo always treats you out to breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the most expensive places. And he buys you little trinkets from wherever he travels so you always have something to remind you of him.

“You are the best so you deserve the best.”

[the-modern-typewriter]

could you write us more vampires !!!

also u the baddestt ❤️❤️❤️

"Your kind don't look so perfect in the sun," the human said. "It feels like shining a light through a counterfeit. Seeing all the flaws. I love it. Hi~"

The vampire stared at them, eyes wide and viciously frightened and simultaneously filled with a sort of bewildered wonder at the gentle warmth washing over them. It would have been adorable if they weren't a complete and utter monster, devoid of whatever humanity they'd once had. Poor mite. They were so new, weren't they?

"Gosh, really, though." The human leaned down, pressing a kiss to the vampire's forehead. "Just look at you," they murmured. "I could just eat you up, pumpkin. Who were you when you still had a beating heart?"

The vampire's skin was so cold that it almost felt blistering. Sharp. When they were a kid, they'd once made the stupid mistake of licking a metal lamppost in winter, because they'd heard it was so cold that your tongue could get stuck. It had seemed absurd. Impossible. They'd been so sure it couldn't be true. It had taken hours for them to finally be able to move away again.

Kissing a vampire always reminded them of those hours. No matter how many times they did it, they still half expected to end up with a frozen lips, unable to pull away, except with the vampire the scant hours by a lamppost would tick over for forever until all that was left was the dark.

Infernal, gorgeous creatures. How could they not be obsessed? Of course, the other hunters didn't approve, but then. Their track record spoke for itself.

The vampire was still staring when the human moved back. Of course they were.

It was an old myth that vampires burned in the sun, but an even older misconception. Exposing a vampire to the sun only got closer to revealing the truth of them; a dead thing in a box, guttingly vulnerable. They could not move, could not speak, could use none of their devastating array of night-time gifts. In the dark, the vampire was nigh unstoppable, uncageable, unbeatable, certainly too beautiful to deny.

But oh, in the daylight...

It was why every hunter who had been there since the start knew to find the vampire's lair before the moon began to rise. To follow the butterflies to an undead grave, or to whatever more modern alternative the creatures found in the many centuries of increasing refinement that followed. Same thing, though. A vampire in a guarded mansion, hunkered down behind thick walls of sun-blocking glass, was still just a pretty dead thing in a much bigger box. The human had found them all. Seen them all. This one had curled up in the first place that felt instinctively safe like a stray cat, hadn't they? They hadn't even thought to lock themselves in from the inside.

"I know, I know." the human said ruefully. "You thought you were safe. They all do. You were oh so careful! You only ate one of the locals and it was an accident, honest, you just woke up so hungry. You couldn't help it."

They picked the knife up from where they'd set it down and traced the tip along the deceptively soft line of the vampire's mouth.

The vampire's pupils turned to pinpricks of terror.

"Still," the human said, "one local is enough for them to call me around these parts. Bad luck for you, my friend, isn't it? If you'd got turned in a city, you might have had a chance! Sorry."

The vampire, predictably, said nothing. It was the only thing the human found themselves wishing for. To be able to talk with a vampire, not just at them, because certainly it would be foolish of them to risk getting near one at any other time.

The human sighed. They trailed the knife down, dug it into the vampire's neck, where the two distinctive fang marks rested.

"The lucky thing for you, is that I need to find your maker," they said. "Can't just kill you. Or maybe that's unlucky? I suppose that depends on you. As said, most people wouldn't make something like you round these parts. They know better. So how did we get here? I'm rambling. Anyway." They watched, idly, as blood trickled down the vampire's throat. "I know you can't tell me anything, killer, but you're going to try. Flick those pretty eyes up for me twice for yes. Down for no. Okay?"

The vampire was unblinkingly still for a moment, still staring at them, face involuntarily smooth. Then their eyes flicked up twice.

The human beamed. "Good! What a good leech. Now. About the last things you remember when you were still alive...do you remember meeting a tall, dark haired man, by any chance? Voice to die for. Body to kill for. Soul made for sin, etc. etc."

The vampire's eyes flicked up twice.

"Mm, thought so, thought so. Did they give you a name?" They tried a few of the aliases the vampire had used the last few times. No dice. "Okay, moving on..."

By the time evening came dangerously close, they had everything they needed. They plunged the blade into the vampire, regretfully, and rose. They cast a glance up at the sky, calculating the minutes and the seconds, before heading home to do some research.

They were back. The bastard was back.

Less than two days later, they got a call about another fledgling vampire that needed hunting. Could they help? The curious thing was that this one had a note in its pocket when it died.

Honey, I'm home.

You coming out to play tonight?

[mari-lair]

How do u think the Change God feels about ciu Sif?

The Change God still favors Mira but they have an... interesting view on Siffrin.

On the one hand, they are smug that Siffrin is putting them on the same level as the universe, bigger even! (the stars are inside their face, which implies the change god itself is the bigger circle) and they find it amusing how futile Siffrin's attempts to be given guidance are, on the other hand, wishcraft is strong enough to be a bother. The Change God doesn't like that instead of 'doing his own thing' Siffrin keeps using wishcraft to make his drawings and sculptures 'look good'.

They also feel little tugs when siffrin wishes for instructions or for them to "look after Mirabelle" or whatever little favor they need, they don't want to be a replacement for the universe thank you very much, they preffer to stay lazy and just watch.

Overall they do still like Siffrin though!! They like Siffrin a lot!! since he is very sweet to the people of the House, and tries to be kind to the change god even when they are confused or resentful. Is adorable to watch, and most important: Entertaining.

Siffrin doesn't fit the change belief, but he tries so hard that he ends up not fitting their old stars belief either, creating a strange mix of the two, their unorthodox way to follow the change belief amuses the Change God.

For example! Siffrin doesn't like the "for change you must DESTROY your old self" philosophy but his hesitance to embrace this makes him still change himself, just not in the most usual way "You spent MONTHS crafting me a knife? Of course, i will accept your gift with love and pride!! but... I can't stop using my nostalgic dagger that may or may not be from someone I used to love and forgot...I can't let go... so you know what? I will be a dual wieldier now!" and it is WAY HARDER to change a fighting style than switch knives, but they'll lose sleep trying anyways, until they do it.

tldr: change god likes siffrin! they like him quite a lot, all things considered

[kyxhiin]

Dad Marvel idea. (That I got from the captain Marvel fan group) Billy accidentally picks up on parental lingo when he's just trying to be there. And he can't help it when teens older than him see him as sort of a dad/parental figure.

Que him trying to keep it all together as he deals with traumatized teens as a traumatized kid. Like posing as a guardian figure for a school meeting of some sort (he always does it with himself, why wouldn't it work on the other Teens?..)

Batman asked Cap to go to parent teacher conferences, P.A meetings and all the other school stuff for his kids cause he got stuck up on a case that he NEEDED to solve(that's Tim's thing but whatever.)

And he's great at it, wonderful even. So that leads to all the other JL members asking for Cap to pose as an Uncle, Older brother, or any other sort of that matter.

That leads to him making life long enemies with the P.A moms.

Billy (in cap for wearing a suit that he was gifted from Batman for this reason alone.): Sarah, I thought I TOLD you to bring boiled potatoes not that *visibly wenching* potato salad for the class picnic. I thought I told you I WILL handle the cooking?

Some mom named Sarah: Oh, how silly of me. Well it's fine though, you saw how popular my potato salad was at the P.A meeting. Mr.Charles (fake name that so luckily happened to be C.C's)

Billy: Well! It was sure of a fight for the janitors to clean the toilets after? Wasn't it? Sarah?

Another one would be.

Billy: Oh, Heather's mom. How nice of you to bring those doggie treats for the Dogs, I would say you put verrrry hard work into them! (Feeding one of the cookies to Titus [Don't worry, he made sure that they were safe. Luckily she didn't add anything harmful to Dogs in them])

Heather's mom: Oh realllly? I wasn't sure if I was making it for Dogs or a human, it's pretty hard to tell with you?

Just so you know all of these are said in a very fake, condescending? backfaced tones. Plus a tiny add on as Billy pretended to be his own guardian for his parent teacher meeting.

Mrs. Smith: I'll have you know that, well Billy has been coming to school in interesting clothing options. I'm not one to judge Mr.Batson, but are you really letting your son go out like that?(Def judging him for looking homeless.)

Captain Marvel: I'll have you know that's the latest Fad between the little fellas. He's just following the trend that's outside of Fawcett! Well if you go to the new Gotham or new york city everybody dresses up like that. There's nothing wrong for my boy to follow modern fashion trends such as that.!

[frehyun]

Mistletoe

non-idol!Felix x gn!Reader

warnings: none!

genre: fluff

word count: around 700

author's note: it's november but the first christmas markets are gonna go up at the end of the month in my country and it's already affecting me. hope you enjoy this, it's just a quick silly one! <3

masterlist

divider by @firefly-graphics

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. The way the lights reflected off his eyes, making them sparkle and glitter in the dark. His freckles like little galaxies dancing around on his cheeks, painted a cute soft red by the cold. Surrounded by countless flickering lights and beautiful decorations, your focus was always drawn to the prettiest thing around you: your boyfriend Felix.

His smile was infectious as he sipped on his hot chocolate, yapping away about something where you realised you tapped out of the conversation a while ago, mesmerised by how beautiful he looked even while doing the mundanest things like sitting at the corner of a Christmas market with you.

“-and I already have an idea of what to get Seungmin for Christmas.”

“It can’t be worse than whatever Minho has planned to torment everyone with, so I think you’re safe. You’re a great gift giver, Lixie” – you told him, hoping that it wasn’t too obvious you didn’t catch half of his sentence.

You leaned more into his side, trying your best to initiate some form of physical contact. With you and Felix both bundled up in several layers, both sporting thick gloves and fitting beanies, it was as good as impossible to get any skinship while you were out and about, so this would have to do.

“You think they have a mistletoe somewhere around here?” – he suddenly quips, looking around the plaza.

“Are you that eager to kiss me in public?” – you giggle and take his gloved hand awkwardly into yours, intertwining your fingers to the best of your ability.

“So what if I am?” – he playfully pouts in return and squeezes your hand.

You bumped your shoulder into his and moved to get up from the little bench the two of you were situated on.

Realising that you were going to indulge his request, Felix beamed up at you, smiling that bright teethy smile of his that almost triggered your cuteness aggression into overdrive.

Hand in hand the two of you wandered around the plaza before finally spotting a stand that had a mistletoe hanging from a wooden beam. With a hop in your step, Felix and you skipped towards the little wooden hut full of giggles, excitement bubbling up in your chests.

It was silly to get this excited over a simple mistletoe kiss but with Felix by your side, even the smallest things seemed to spark unbridled joy in your heart, which was thumping happily in anticipation.

As you stood on either side of the mistletoe, grinning from ear to ear, his arms found their way around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His soft lips found yours in an instant, kissing you like it was the last kiss he was going to get in a while.

Little fireworks exploded in your chest as they always do when you get to kiss your sunshine and you smile against his lips before the two of you parted, your forehead leaned against his.

“People are staring” – you giggled and poked his side, which in turn made him giggle and twist his body away from your attack.

“They’re just jealous.”

“Jealous of me, maybe.”

“Hey! Do you want me to start listing all the things I love about you again?”

“And have me cry in the middle of a Christmas market?”

“You know I’ll do it. So! First thing-“

“Alright! I get it! You can stop!” – you hastily placed your hand over his mouth before he could make you cry of happiness and love for real, laughing over his competitiveness at who loves the other more.

It was getting awkward with all the people looking in your direction, so you decided to call it a day and trudge home.

Soft, joyful days like these were always a blessing with Felix and made you wonder what you did in your previous life to deserve him. He could always manage to make you laugh, smiling brighter than all the Christmas lights combined.

You were sure that as long as you had him, you never needed another Christmas present again if it meant you could spend your days with him.

[scribs-dibs]

so weak!

modern au, neuvillette x gn! reader, vv fluffy, written in the summer, very silly & unserious <3

wc ; ~4.5k

listened to weak by swv if you couldn't tell 🔥🔥

"it's not a phase i want you to stay with me"

To say you are fond of your new neighbor would be the understatement of the century.

Your hands are covered in a thin film of flour and yeast, and it’s a blessing that your fingers can work with just muscle memory as you knead. Your mind is elsewhere, filled to the brim with thoughts of Neuvillette. It’s not your fault, really. Anyone would be taken by him; he is unfairly, nearly inhumanly pretty. Long, fair hair and strong cheekbones, a pointed nose with a rounded bridge that leads into stunning multicolored eyes. You’d seen pretty people in magazines and movies before, of course– but seeing him in the flesh, without makeup or filters or special lighting had them all immediately paling in comparison. And the worst part? Neuvillette is one of the kindest souls you’d ever met.

If asked, you would blame the hot summer sun for the sweat that had built on top of your brow. But you were nervous. You’d gotten over most of your fears when moving into a new town, (thanks to your neighbors greeting you with a kindness warm enough to melt the coldest winters) but then, standing before the grand, white wooden door of the new stranger’s home, you had felt every blood vessel pump with anxiety. And you weren't quite sure why, either. Drawing near the door seemed to make air feel heavy in your lungs, with each step seemingly bringing you closer to your doom. You swallowed. And then you knocked.

You can't tell if you wanted to thank your past self for pushing through, or curse them for giving you your current problem.

It was not Neuvillette who had answered the door. Instead, it was a creature named Elphane— a melusine. It was a surprise, to see someone inhuman and fuzzy, but she greeted you with such goodwill you would be remiss to not do the same. The one behind her was the issue. The looming, fierce presence that stood protectively at her back, and piercing holes into your skin as he watched you. Your nerves came back to you in a rush.

It was a gift, from whatever archon was watching over you, that your meeting went without a hitch. Despite how frightened you were, Neuvillette's concerned, cool gaze melted into something softer once pleasantries were out of the way. You owe it all to your offering— a quaint and humble apple pie.

Baking was a hobby you had taken up earlier into your move. You would not describe it as the easiest thing you've done, but it does serve to ground you. To put your worries into precise measurements and knead them into dough, and then have a result that leads into something edible. Not to mention, it makes your neighbors adore you, newly-moved melusines included. And of course, you adore them too. It's their guardian that's a problem.

Neuvillette has consumed the better part of most of your waking days. You come back from work, and it is his clear multicolored eyes who greet you over the fence. They form the shape of crescents when he smiles, faint and polite, like fresh spring water. You're weak in the knees.

It is him who knocks on your door on occasion, pale skin slightly flushed as he offers you produce from his garden.

"To repay your earlier kindness," He'll say, and his voice is so rich and silky it feels as if it curls around you like a blanket. You're weak in the knees.

It is his daughters(?) that tell you what he says behind closed doors—

"Neuvillette used to dislike sweets. But he always smiles when he tries your food. Says it takes a special talent to make sweets this good. Can you make more for him?" Verenata asked you one day, teal paws cupping several macrons, "And more for me?"

You're weak.

When you're done kneading and yearning, you leave your dough covered so it can rest. You are too hyper to do the same. Out the window, the sinking sun paints the sky in warm shades of pink. Summer nights are much cooler now, such is the gift of August taking its leave.

Stepping outside gifts you with the gentle kiss of fresh air. Your small porch is one of your favorite parts of your home. When you were little, you had often wondered why it was older people sat outside and did nothing but stare out into the world above. Now older and wiser, you can understand it. It's peaceful— you could sit out here for hours and watch the sky change to reveal the stars. If not for the mosquitoes.

You sit on the second-lowest step, staring up at the softly drifting clouds and noting their different shapes. This one is similar to Ottnit's horns-- it curls around itself in a spiral. That one looks like a pancake; you wonder if you still have a box of pancake-mix in the back of your cupboard still. You wonder if you have the guts to invite Neuvillette over for breakfa—

No.

This bubbling crush is getting ridiculous. You don't even know him that well-- even though you desperately want to. You can imagine it now: the plush of his lips falling open as you ask the question, his head tilted and his pointed ears twitching (a feature that makes you wonder if the melusines aren't the only ones who aren't human, but that'd be ridiculous), before he politely refuses you. He's a busy man— at least you think him to be, because he's always hard at work. You don't know how he manages to keep such a bountiful garden so nicely kept when he is always working such long hours. On more than one occasion, you've caught him tending to it in the rain. A hard worker. A kind heart. He makes your own kick wildly in the confines of your chest.

The sky has turned more purple now, ink blotting the blush-tinted sky. Faintly, you can see the stars. Bright like those eyes of his. Like the ones that stare at you as you sit on your porch.

You nearly jump out of your skin.

And you wish you had it in you to scream at him for the scare, but he looks just as startled as you do.

He now looks at you in awe, like you've grown a second head, before he collects himself. Before you know it his demeanor is back, calm as quiet waters.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to frighten you."

And you hate him a little bit for that, too. The voice that you have imprinted into your mind, hanging on to every dip and curve of each syllable, is apologizing to you in a tone so sincere it almost hurts. He makes you ache.

Though you are screaming internally, you smile and say, "Aw, no worries Mis-" you notice how his brow is already furrowing. He's told you before, Neuvillette is fine, no need for formalities. We're neighbors, after all. "...No worries, Neuvillette. It's, uh, nice to see you."

You want to face-plant directly into the ground. Busy as he is, you see each other nearly everyday. 

If Neuvillette notices the awkwardness of your phrasing, he clearly doesn't mind. His understanding is found in an undeniably fond smile. 

"Same to you," And then your name. He says it so tenderly, like it is precious. You're going to burst into flames right here, and illuminate the darkening skies for all to see. 

There's a small beat of awkward silence, which is filled with your eyes scanning for anything to look at but him. Neuvillette stands just at the border of your fence, its gate opened but his feet firmly planted at the edges. It's like there's a barrier there, put in place so as to keep him, in specific, out. And, well, you are shivering and shaking at the mere thought of seeing him any closer, but it does feel...pitiful to have him so far away.

"You...can come closer if you want." You pat the space on the step next to you.

His eyes widen again, the same expression of surprise he had shown when he had first appeared. And again, he schools it into something more familiar, collected and calm. It's almost vampiric how he steps forward with an eagerness, but only after being invited to do so. 

You almost want to laugh-- the man is so lanky that he has to shift awkwardly to fit properly on the small step. But then he settles fully and your laugh dies immediately. You inhale, and then it dawns upon you that he's close.

Neuvillette smells fresh. Like getting misted with rain after an ongoing drought. And then something faintly sweet, like flowers-- his garden. It intoxicates you-- this was a horrible idea.

"You have my thanks,"

You can only nod. You don't trust your voice not to betray you. 

This time, the silence that follows is not awkward and stiff. It is a serene, natural thing, as you both gaze at the ever-brightening stars.

"This is lovely," comes his voice in a whisper, as if speaking too loudly will cause the sky to ripple like a stone thrown atop a pond's surface. "But...would you mind so terribly if I were to confess something?"

You are going to die.

Confess makes it sound like he was hiding something from you. Confess makes it sound like he was harboring something, keeping it close, watching it bloom. Confess makes it sound like it was blooming for you.

It chants in your ear so loudly you can barely hear it over your voice.

Confess. Confess. Confess.

"O-of course. Go ahead."

Confess. Confess. Confess.

Another one of his smiles. The moon caresses the planes of his face, and you are envious of how they brush against his cheekbones and the sharp lines of his jaw. Your eyes immediately flicker back— his cheeks. There's a faint flush brushed across them. 

"It is...a bit embarrassing, admittedly,"

Confess. Confess. Confess.

"I..had been meaning to ask.."

Confess. Confess. Confess.

"...If you would mind teaching me how you make those pastries of yours?"

The heart is a funny thing.

At first, it sinks. Your heart is but a lump in your chest now, vulnerable and lonely. You were a fool to think that someone like Neuvillette of all people would see you in that way. He is put together— a calm, guiding force for the melusines, the talk of your little neighborhood. And you? You are but a neighbor, lucky enough to be housed next to him. But then—

You wanted to know him better, didn't you?

Immediately, your mind races. Neuvillette, in your home. Neuvillette's long, pretty fingers shaky with inexperience. Neuvillette, with his eyes focused on his new task, focused on you. You feel dizzy. You are weak in the knees.

It's a horrible idea.

For one, your house must pale in comparison to his. His house is a stately one. You remember, the first time you had stepped foot in front of his door, thinking that the previous owners must've prepped it just for his arrival. A freshly painted baby-blue on the siding. Hedges trimmed to perfection. A pathway with not a single stone out of place. That big, intimidating white door, with golden detailing around the edges. Your house is not *horrible* by any means. But it is not his.

For seconds, you can barely sit next to the guy without losing what's left of your sanity.

It's a horrible idea.

"I-"

You face him, and those pearlescent eyes are boring into you. Controlled, steady, expectant.

"I would be happy to help you out!" You say too quickly, all in one breath.

Neuvillette has never really laughed in front of you. You seem to be privy to the smaller, faint smiles that make your head spin, but never a laugh.

So when you hear it for the first time— breathy and filled to the brim with mirth, you forget all about the way your heart had sunken a mere seconds ago, and fall for him all over again. Like a lovesick fool.

His smile is wide, showing teeth. You're starting to wonder if you have something going here, with him not being fully human. You swear on everything you own— his canines are sharper than normal. What's worse? It only makes you more enamored.

"It would seem I owe you my thanks again," his hand is close to yours. The tips of his gloved fingers are nearly touching your own, and that alone makes your heart want to take flight. "Looks like I'll be owing you a debt for a while still."

Your mouth opens to speak. You want to tell him that it's okay, that it's not an issue of owing you anything. That you'd walk through hell barefoot if it meant hearing that laugh again. But you don't get a chance to speak.

Because his hand, with warmth ebbing through the thin fabric, covers yours and gives it a light squeeze. It's such a small, clearly platonic motion, and yet your heart— your heart. It beats as though it means to clamber out of your chest and run for the hills. Away from the porch, away from the stars, away from his hand that fits snugly over yours. 

"Shall we meet tomorrow?"

You nod with an urgency unbefitting such a light conversation. "Of course, it's a-"

No. It's not a date. It's not anything like a date. In fact it couldn't be further from one.

"Of course." Is where you settle.

Neuvillette's smile only widens, and again you are met with those pointed teeth.

"It's a date, then."

You're going to die.

꧁꧂

You make pancakes for breakfast, but you can't taste them.

Last night, you scratched at the mosquito bites littering your forearms, but all you could feel was his hand, with warmth ebbing through the thin fabric, covering yours as he gives it a light squeeze. As you brushed your teeth this morning, you swear you could smell something fresh. Like getting misted with rain after an ongoing drought. As you spread syrup over your pancakes, your gaze was unfocused. You see those pearlescent eyes boring into you. Controlled, steady, expectant. You're going to die.

You know how to bake. At work, you browse recipes to try during your breaks. At home, if you feel sluggish, you bake to take your mind off of things. You have experience by now. But how can you trust yourself to teach someone else if that someone could send you to heaven just by smiling? It's not fair. You're doomed.

You can think of at least ten ways to call off this impromptu lesson off the top of your head. You can pretend to be sick, or flee the country, for example. But then comes your second issue: Neuvillette's disappointment. The corner of his lips turned downwards into a frown, a soft exhale leaving his too-tense shoulders. You're grieving with him at the thought. You're doomed.

There's no getting out of the hole you've dug yourself, so you take to organizing your ingredients. You are good at baking. You know how to bake. You will not trip over your own feet, or swallow your own tongue attempting to speak. You are good at this. Everything is fine.

From the door comes two firm knocks, and your life flashes before your eyes.

You are reminded of your first meeting with him, how your heart was pounding in your head, how his eyes were boring into you. And this time, it's within your own home! You open the door with as much grace and poise as a chicken without its head.

Neuvillette always looks good. In fact, good is too little of a word to describe how he looks. You could use elegant, or debonair, or divine, but it's different when he's this close.

His hair is tied back, appropriate for the mess that baking often creates, and a singular button is undone from his loose dress shirt. Neuvillette is someone who dresses without big, ornate details, but still carries a serene type of class. He feels clean and proper, even if he is dressing casually. This is the first time it hits you— you've never even seen him without gloves. Usually, he wears them for work and keeps them on thereafter, or his hands are covered with thick, rubber gardening gloves. You feel like a victorian noble, with such little exposed skin causing such a distraction. There's so much. You have a full view of the planes of his face, without wispy swipes of white obstructing your gaze.  You are leveled with a set of beautiful, strong collarbones. So much and yet—

You cannot help but stare at his uncovered, painted nails.

"Ah," he says, and again you hear him laugh-- you must be blessed. This one is lighter, a gentle breeze carrying a pleasant memory, "The melusines requested I matched with them. This was one of the ways we had decided on."

Neuvillette offers a hand, and pastel, patterned nails come into full view. The swooping swirls of Muirne. The star-like shapes of Cosanzeana. The baby-blue of Sigewinne. He carries ten of them under his gloves, with him at all times. That fact is sweet on its own. And then he says—

"We do try to alternate every few weeks or so."

Your heart melts.

You aren't quite sure what melusines are, or where they came from, but you do know that Neuvillette cares for them as he would his own kin. He's like a proud father, it's adorable.

"It wouldn't impede our baking lesson, would it?"

He's adorable.

"No! Ah, no it won't, no worries!"

 ꧁꧂

With every scan of his eyes, you become more acutely aware that this is actually happening and not some prank orchestrated by the gods. You have a million thoughts that are buzzing around uselessly in your mind, and at least half of them boil down to you should've cleaned more. You don't take Neuvillette to be the judgy type, but even so having him in your space makes you nervous. 

"So," you start, with your voice embarrassingly pitchy, "Have you made a cake before?"

A soft hum, "I have...attempted to," He averts his gaze, "With unfortunately low success."

You suppress a laugh at that-- the image of Neuvillette standing in a kitchen, looking disapprovingly at a sunken cake makes it a hard-won battle.

"Okay then! I'll try my best to help you. And then, maybe we can share it with the melusines."

Neuvillette seemed a bit tense at first, admitting his failures. But at your words, he melts, and his smile is so soft it almost seems blurry around the edges.

First, the dry ingredients.

"The mixing is the fun part, it's the measurements that can make or break the cake," You explain, feeling especially scholarly, "Too much flour will make the cake sink a bit the moment you pull it out of the oven, for example."

"I see..."

"I'll measure this part, just in case. Wanna mix?"

"Of course,"

You offer a shy smile of your own, and turn to prepare the rest of the ingredients. The sound of a whisk hitting your metal mixing bowl resounds for a moment, and then you hear your name (said tenderly, like it's precious).

As if pulled by puppet strings, you turn immediately.

And feel a dry mixture of flour brush against your face.

"Ah," He says, though he is clearly unsurprised, "My apologies."

What.

You do not, or at least had not taken Neuvillette to be the playful, mischievous type. But those pale eyes flicker to yours as he continues to mix, and that hint of a smile is playing at the corners of his lips. 

What?

Neuvillette sets the bowl down after a few more moments of whisking, and then his eyes are fully set on you once more. 

"Here," from his pocket, he produces a blue handkerchief, and before you can breathe he's getting closer, lower, "May I?"

You're weak in the knees. And you're going to die.

The sound that you make is something between and scream and a whimper, and something you're sure is entirely pathetic. That's quite enough of trying to speak, so you only nod.

His fingers —ungloved fingers— are gentle as they hook under your chin, and lift up. You aren't particularly short, but Neuvillette stands a good head above most. His touch is like dewdrops on top of flower petals, or a rainbow seen after the last drizzles of rain, or anything else delicate and dainty and sacred. You're struggling to stay upright. You mourn the fact that it's the light cloth wiping at your face, and not his opposite, uncovered hand. You're weak.

"There we are,"

And then his touch is gone, and he has stood up straight again.

"What is next?"

You are considerably more frazzled as you prepare the wet ingredients.

"I'll mix these," you say, trying to sound firm. You can't handle another heart attack. Neuvillete nods, but you know that the mirthful look in his eyes means he's enjoying this. He's a problem.

Neuvillette is never really smug. He doesn't gloat or brag about anything, despite taking pride in all that he does. You consider it a rarity that he smiles so often in front of you now, perhaps one of many benefits to living such close proximity to him, but god is it distracting. It's not filled with mockery, but he seems suspiciously content with watching you try and keep your cool. Your mixing becomes more frantic. 

This is stupid. He's only asking for a favor, only wants to make better treats for those dear to him. He just happens to have a stupidly smooth voice, and a stupidly pretty smile, and stupidly unashamed eyes that bore at you as you work, and—

Okay, so fuck him actually. 

With a quick flick of the wrist, and the wet mixture is splattered in little droplets across his face.

You know it has to be a touch more gross than simple flour and baking powder, but if that was a concern maybe he wouldn't have started this little war.

"My apologies." You say echo, feeling particularly proud.

"Seeking out justice with your own hands, are you?" his query is something that rumbles, waves building up and up and up before they come to crash. You would feel unnerved, if not for the way that his eyes shine with a sudden playfulness. It's so different from the Neuvillette you thought you knew, the one who is polite but passive, restrained and reserved at all times. You're seeing more and more of this new side of him, and you feel yourself becoming greedy for more. This was a horrible idea.

"It's only fair," Turning, you continue to mix. That's enough of looking at his face, blessed be.

Except the gods are *done* being on your side, apparently.

"If I recall," along with that steady voice, your shoulders are gripped by equally steady shoulders, "I cleaned up the mess I had made."

You're spun, to look at him. The metal mixing bowl nearly falls out of your arms. You're going to die. You're going to die, and your neighbor will be your undoing.

Neuvillette is looking at you, focused like you are mere prey quivering before him, luminescent eyes crinkled at the edges. It's unfair. There is a mixture of egg and buttermilk drying on his cheek, and yet you feel flustered by his gaze nonetheless.

"For it to truly be fair, you should return the favor, no?"

Your voice is meek and squeaky, but you manage.

"Oh..o-oh! Okay!"

His face is smooth. You're dangerously toeing the line between awe and jealousy as you reach for his cheek, full and unmarred by any bumps or blemishes. You're sure you're being obvious in your ogling of him, taking your sweet time to wipe the remnants of ingredients from his face, but Neuvillette seems like he's enjoying this. His eyes are so light, normally. But now, the whole of his irises are swallowed by a deep, inky black. Much like the night sky you saw yesterday.

Confess. Confess. Confess.

You must be seeing things.

꧁꧂

The rest of your baking is, mercifully, without another incident. You put the cake in the oven, are inhumanely fast while making the buttercream, and now sit under a familiar sunset.

You just need to survive until your timer goes off. 

"Neuvillette," comes your voice, breezy, "Why the sudden interest in baking?"

The man in question lowers the tie neatly pulling his hair into place, lowering the band so his hair nearly drips onto his shoulders.

"...There are a few reasons," there is a heaviness in that answer, and you feel he is indeed speaking the truth. Neuvillette is rarely one to hesitate, "But I suppose the main one would be to better cater to the melusines."

Your brows furrow at that. From what you can tell, Neuvillette is the best guardian the strangely charming creatures could offer. They sing nothing but his praises, and you know that he would do anything for them if they so much as batted their eyes up at him.

"They have taken a liking to sweets. Yours, especially," The way he looks at you is achingly tender, sweet, "While you've never expressed your discomfort with them, I figured I should share your burden of requests, or at the very least attempt to."

You're weak.

"Oh... Oh! It's no trouble at all, seriously," you nudge him with your elbow, "I like talking with them, and it's not like they just demand them."

Scattered around your home, assortments of shiny rocks and gems and trinkets decorate your shelves and end tables. They had at first insisted on paying for your goods, but at your refusal they had taken to a sort of trade instead. You adore them and their pint-sized company.

"It seems I've done well in that regard, then." Says your neighbor, with the rightful pride of a successful father.

"You have! They're the sweetest, really, so there's no need to worry."

That steady, comfortable silence wraps you in its embrace once more. A question pounds restlessly in the back of your mind.

"...If it's okay to ask, what are your other reasons?"

There is a subtle quirk to his lips, one you would not have noticed if your eyes weren't frustratingly glued to his face. It's like he was waiting for you to ask.

"Well," his voice is so soft, almost as light as your head feels. your eyes are focused on the inky black that swallows his own. Then, your eyes flicker to the whole of him— his cheeks. There's a faint flush brushed across them.

Confess. Confess. Confess.

"I've grown terribly fond of my neighbor, you see."

You don't know if he'd said anything else after that. You can hear nothing but the rapid beating of your heart, and the small ding! of your timer going off.

╌────═❁═────╌

thank you for reading! reblogs w/comments appreciated <3

[canonicallyobserving911]

The BS Tommy said to Buck during the breakup scene was classic, "It’s not you, it's me" language.

I'm so happy they're over and I'm still celebrating the demise of that awful relationship. IMO, it should have ended in season 7 but I digress.

There were so many things in the BT 2.0 breakup scene that felt obscure and oblique to me and I've already posted about a couple of them (linked here). I'm still planning to do a full post on all of it but I think I figured out why the BS Tommy said during it seemed so out of left field. Two weeks ago, I posted about how the show went out of its way in 8x5 to illustrate the reasons why Buck and Tommy weren't compatible and I included an explanation of the way Buck believed Tommy was his boyfriend even though Tommy didn't consider Buck to be his (linked here). But in 8x6, everything about whatever they had was flipped and made to seem like Tommy really cared about Buck but HE DIDN'T.

The truth is he's always known Buck wants Eddie and I think it's possible he was planning to end it during dinner after he gave him the Lakers tickets. It seems like he was trying to get Buck to realize or admit he'll always be in love with Eddie but there's one thing he didn’t count on and that's Clinger!Buck. When Tommy said he could "Take Eddie" to the game, it was his ploy to see if Buck would take the bait and he kind of did when he asked him if he'd be ok with it. But Tommy turned it into one of his rude, unfunny dry ass jokes by responding with "And die." Who TF even says that? No one just like that whole "vision in a cone" line he said in 8x1.

Anyway, my point is Tommy used the classic "It’s not you, it's me" breakup language on Buck because it was the only excuse he could come up with to end it. He had tried everything else with his dismissive attitude, laughing at him with his coworkers and not kissing him anymore but Clinger!Buck was holding on for dear life. The final straw was when Buck said, "I want you to move in with me" and it was the thing that sealed the deal and Tommy realized he had to get out and it’s the path he chose to do it.

They didn't know each other after 6 months and the proof was the anniversary gift and Buck not knowing anything about Tommy beyond the physical (déjà vu for all of Buck’s other relationships). Has Buck ever even been to Tommy’s house? Eddie has and it's CANON because Eddie said it in 7x4.

Tommy prefaced the breakup with several compliments when he said how handsome and great Buck is but then he said that BS about his heart would get broken and he wouldn't be able to take it 🙄. In the few episodes he was in, they never discussed love or anything else other than that daddy kink joke in 7x10. Therefore, their relationship was surface level so why in TF did Tommy say that?

The only answer that makes sense to me is he was having fun but Clinger!Buck was ready to take it to the next level and Tommy didn't want that. He told Buck that in 7x4 when he said "Dating someone you meet on a call never ends the way you expect" but Buck missed the memo and he’s still misunderstanding the assignment.

Eddie had already told Buck that in 6x15 but it’s evident Buck still doesn't realize he’s on the same hamster wheel he's been on since 2018.

The point of this post is Tommy did the "It’s not you, it's me" to breakup with Buck because that's what people say when they don't want to admit the truth. He was softening the blow of dumping him because Buck was being left behind again just like he was with Abby, Ali, Taylor and Natalia. Buck broke up with Taylor and Natalia but he didn't end it for the right reasons. He was unhappy with Taylor but their breakup wasn't about that and he knew Natalia was all about death when he started dating her so there's that.

It was a $hitty reason to end it especially with all the other things they could have used to breakup but for whatever reason, TM (showrunner) chose this option and I don’t like it because Tommy came out unscathed. He should've had to answer for his racist and bigoted past but he wasn't held accountable just like Gerarrd and that sucks.

Buck’s in love with Eddie Diaz! He always has been but he’s still on the hamster wheel and he won't get off until he asks and answers the questions regarding what he wants for himself.

[merakiui]

going back to read your contractual fwb azul cause it’s my favourite fic ever and i have to wonder; what would azul do if you never used his wishes to your own advantage? like it was always small stuff, so you ended up having to get a new job (sex is banned and let’s pretend like theres some random cafe on sage island or something like that you’re picking up shifts. just not the monstro lounge) and the hours you work there give him less time. would he beg you to use his money? to take advantage of him? it feels like the terms he picked also come from a domestic standpoint of wanting to provide for you. and your new job is really getting in the way of that. rely on him and no one else >:(

(also i’d like to imagine you falling asleep sitting in his lap in his office chair sometime before the confession so he carries you back to his room and you spend the night. the next morning you wake up to him pulling away and in your extremely sleep deprived mind you get upset that he’s leaving. cue him promising he’ll be back—maybe a quick round just so he can get you to wish it and no it’s definitely not because he wants sleepy morning sex—and eventually he comes to wake you back up with flowers, tea (you know the one), and telling you you have a day off somehow.) thank you for listening to my tiny brain rambles

hiiiiiii this is just a question i forgot to add to my last ask that i submitted like 2 seconds ago.

how does your relationship with azul go now that you’re actually in one and not just fwb? like does he still spoil you with whatever you ask for in exchange for sex or just give it to you and sex happens whenever? (more than the average couple cause, cmon) he gave you the fish shoes even though you lost so it stands that he’d spoil the hell out of you whenever he can

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Hi hiiii!! :D omg contractual fwb tako..... I miss thinking about that fic. Peak Azul is him developing a relationship with darling via contractual means and slowly but surely the feelings shift (through dubious efforts hehehe). >:D that dynamic is just so *chef's kiss*!!!!!

Oooo if reader got a job!!! If not at the lounge, which is secretly what Azul hopes, then the place better pay good wages and the hours and work better be reasonable!! >:( he won't have his angelfish struggle. Maybe he'd even visit you during your shifts on occasion and make up some excuse like "I need to know what sort of competition the lounge has" blah blah blah etc etc even though it's quite clear he's checking up on you. T_T I like to think Azul wants you to take advantage of him because it's a deal in which you're both using the other for certain things, so wouldn't that make the most sense?? That's how the logic works in his give-and-take, equivalent-exchange brain.

Azul gets really particularly when it comes to giving gifts and he always seems to want a valid reason for the exchange (like in Glomas where he buys souvenirs for his dorm so that they can remember this good deed and know that they are technically indebted to him even though to Deuce and Epel it appears as though he's just being a kind Housewarden). But also,,, he's so iffy when it comes to accepting gifts himself and always seems to think there's some underlying reason behind it. ^^;; perhaps he'd just feel more comfortable if you were openly using him and this deal to your benefit just as he's doing the same with you. It's probably why he even makes the terms so domestic because, beneath all of the pompous showmanship and businessman flair, he genuinely wants to provide for you and make your life better and be your beloved. <3 but because he's Azul he can't just tell you that. >_<

AAAAA FALLING ASLEEP IN HIS OFFICE!!!!! OTL waking up in his bed all bleary-eyed and sleepy....... grabbing at his arm and begging him to stay,,, the sleepy morning sex... maybe it's the one moment he allows just some of his defenses to fall because most of yours are nonexistent in this moment. Having sex just to have sex without any thoughts about your contract..... of course he's still going to remind you later and insist you use one of your wishes/favors since you technically indulged him with sex, but then you wanted it, too. He's so fussy!!!! Please just ask him for something—anything! He isn't going to beg, but sometimes you really do make him contemplate it when you're so determined to not make use of him and his connections.

You're one of Azul's greatest weaknesses and if you know this then you can easily exploit this because this tako adores you. He is so utterly whipped. Whatever you want, you can have it. Spoiling you is one of his many love languages. He loves giving you gifts, especially when he knows they'll make you happy. Like those silly fish slippers. They are so dumb, but they make his angelfish smile and that's enough reason to purchase them for you. I think once you're in a real relationship the fwb contract is dissolved, but a lot of what you did during those two months still occurs into your relationship. Like the smoldering tension and the chemistry. The silly banter and smart quips. The attraction. And of course lots of love (real and potion-induced mwahaha) and sex. He railed you once in mer form and you better believe he'll do it again now that he's slowly finding the confidence to do so with you.