#charisma house fanfic

[xxsycamore]

𝐎𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥… 𝐋𝐞𝐰𝐝?!

╰┈➤ You help Rikai relieve sexual tension so he can function properly again. By giving him a handjob.

Kusanagi Rikai x Gender Neutral!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Masturbation; Boners; Resolved Sexual Tension; Embarrassment; Rikai is dying of embarrassment; Blushing; Sexual Inexperience; Virginity; Voyeurism; Hand Jobs; Holding Hands; Secret Crush; Praise Kink; Multiple Orgasm • wordcount: 3,307 • masterlist

a/n: Happy birthday to my favorite person in the world who wants to do unspeakable things to Rikai (i understand.)

It's an early morning… a damn early morning, making you want to scream at Rikai if he must always start his day that early. Even the sun is nowhere to be seen yet, and you wonder if it simply hasn't received Rikai's orders yet to rise and shine…

But it's more than alright with you; the dark blue of the sky that gradually bleeds into lighter hues is somewhat exciting with what is to come, moreso when you finally find yourself knocking on Rikai's bedroom door.

"Coming."

His reply is fast and clear and you bite back a chuckle at the thought of it slipping mechanically, not even a pause to wonder what could this be about, at such an early hour. Though you suppose he must be used to all things bizarre and unexpected in a house like this.

…Is what you'd say if you didn't know him and his ability to stress over the same things again and again.

"Why are you up so early? What's the matter?"

There's a genuine surprise on his features as he opens the door to find you on the other side, albeit still quick to invite you inside. His bed is already made. His morning toilette taken care of, as he's not only dressed for the day but also already equipped with his favorite whistle hanging from his long and elegant turtle-neck-clad nape, probably on his way to wake up the rest of the residents.

Well now, this would have to wait…

"Rikai-kun. I wanted to talk to you about something. In private."

"Now is a good time. It's a nice, sunny morning. It's good to clear things up at the beginning of the day so it can start without any issues. I'm listening."

Despite the barely hidden difficulties he experiences every time he has to look you in the eye, the gesture of adjusting his glasses does the trick to make him look presentable. Besides, he's always ready to cooperate.

"You know I appreciate how you keep everything here in check… even if you can be overbearing at times…"

"I'm afraid that's necessary, and you're well aware."

"… I was thinking that someone has to take care of you, the way you always take care of others."

Rikai produces a sharp sound of confusion that is followed by a brief pause. "Elaborate."

"Based on my observations, Rikai-kun, you are experiencing a lot of pent-up sexual tension."

"Huh?"

"Yes."

. . .

"w-w-w-w-W-W-W-W-WHAT ARE YOU SAYING??? DO YOU EVEN HEAR YOURSELF?"

"Rikai-kun calm down, do YOU hear yourself?! At this rate you're going to end up waking everyone up and we won't be able to cure you of your sexual tension!"

"WHAT S-SEXUAL TENSION? WHAT S-S-SEXUAL TENSION? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN AROUND AMAHIKO-SENSEI?"

"He has nothing to do with this! Although, I have to note, his profound insights did open my eyes to some of this… And you have to agree, as they say, that even a broken clock is right twice a day!"

He hates it, it's all in his twisted-in-panic expression. He hates that he finds truth in that phrase, the way you talk about this so nonchalantly like it's the most normal thing in the world, the way your frame blocks the door so he finds himself in a prison of his own making by having you where you are.

"Rikai-kun, your skin is all red… This too, is perhaps a sign that I'm right. I would appreciate it if you don’t make things worse by hiding your symptoms from me."

"STOP TALKING ABOUT THIS AS IF I'M GOING TO DIE! I'M PERFECTLY FINE, I DON'T FEEL ANY OF- WHAT YOU JUST-"

"Sexual tension."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA"

"It's perfectly natural… but while it's natural, if you bottle it up… it indeed can be very bad for you. I do this out of genuine concern, you know! Dying is not off the table. At the very least, if you keep this up… you might explode."

Rikai's whole body shivers as if he just heard the blast in his head, and it makes him lose his balance. And ultimately, he falls down.

"R-Rikai-kun! Are you alright?!"

You immediately couch down to his level to check on him, and while it seems like his soul has already left his body, as soon as you put your hands on his shoulders to shake him back to consciousness, he tenses up and brings himself to a seating position on the ground.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips, part relief, part disappointment. "Seriously… I thought we could rely on you for keeping everything in order, but you can't even keep your body in order…"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're hard, Rikai-kun."

It takes exactly two and a half seconds, and him looking down in pure disbelief, for the hysterical, high-pitched scream to fill the room and bounce off the walls once again. You clamp a hand on his mouth to muffle his scream, and he seems to only panic further because of your touch, so you hurry to remove it.

The betrayal of his own body drives him to madness, and nothing that leaves his mouth makes sense anymore. If you've ever heard someone keysmash with their voice, that must be it.

You sit back on your haunches, hands on your knees, waiting for him to calm down so you can remind about the seriousness of the situation. Though, you don’t exactly mind waiting when he's making those cute expressions. You'd normally feel bad about him going overdrive like that, but the blush on his face makes you enjoy this, instead. You're not sorry at all.

"It's early in the morning, isn't that right? You've just woken up so, it's quite normal for a healthy male like you to have a…morning wood… at this time of the day. Calm down already!"

"UNSPEAKABLE! OBSCENE! OUTRAGEOUS! …LEWD!"

Lewd…with the way he's trashing about on the floor, trying to cross his legs, or to hide his crouch with his hands instead, you're growing afraid of him contemplating to chop off his own dick if it refuses to comply with his principles. But you know just the way to deal with him.

"Surely you know what to do in this situation, right?"

"Absolutely. I'll go take an ice-cold shower and kindly ask you to forget that this ever happened."

"NO-"

"Now then, isn't it a good morning? I already wrote my goals for the day in calligraphy. It's a New Year's tradition that I've implemented in my daily routine for the bountiful results it provides in motivation for goal-persuading, so I thought I might do the same with performing misogi and letting the cold water cleanse me so I could start the day without those dirty, atrocious, dirty things occurring to mar the day. A cleansing of the body and the mind! Isn't that a great start to the day? It's important to start the day with a clear mind so you can focus on your goals and take on them with vigor and diligence. I'd advise you to do the same!"

"Rikai-kun PLEASE LISTEN TO ME!"

He's too far gone, going through all the stages of madness in the spawn of mere seconds, to the point where he doesn't even register the way you shake his shoulders once again. Your body involuntarily presses against him, and the tent of his trousers grazes against your leg. You quickly sit back on your haunches. "I'm sorry."

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

You were wondering when this comes. Puffing up his cheeks like a hamster, Rikai blows the whistle, even though you have already withdrawn from him. He doesn't remove the whistle from his mouth even after he ceases to produce that innerving sound, and you attempt to pick up your thought again where you left it.

"I'm afraid cold water wouldn't be enough for you to get rid of this, not to mention it's not good for you to deny your body's needs. Haven't you ever… jerked off?"

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

Groaning, you tug on the whistle's string until it flies out of Rikai's parted lips, and you take hold of it. You come in closer again, close enough to catch it between your own lips, and you quickly blow it. PPPPPPPP

"There. You can do that again if you want to, but just so you know, that's going to be an indirect kiss."

Rikai is shocked, defeated, and disarmed. Additionally, he didn't faint at your question about pleasuring himself, surprisingly, thankfully, but it's only after a couple more seconds that he attempts to give you a reply, albeit a non-verbal one. It's negative.

Wow. How old is he again?

You sigh.

"I don’t wanna say this. But I have to say it. I'm disappointed in you, Rikai-kun. To think that someone like you would… drive your body to absolute disorder, refusing to acknowledge the most effective and rightful way to deal with one of its natural functions… it's not like you."

"I…I…I…I…I…"

"I'm not leaving until I make sure you've taken care of yourself, Rikai-oniisan!"

Crack.

You're not sure if you're imagining things or the last bits of Rikai's sanity just shattered to pieces. At first, you thought what you heard was his glasses cracking, perhaps the man in front of you reached the exact resonant frequency for them to shatter from his tormented wailings alone.

For a moment, the room is quiet. The approaching sunrise spilling through the windows begins to color every surface in a murky shade of florid violet. The blush on Rikai's face is more visible now, you can see how it spreads to his neck, to the tips of his ears. His lips twitch and he purses them as if fighting the words threatening to leave them. His eyes fall closed in inner conflict, and you indulge in the fleeting opportunity to admire his beautiful long lashes.

"I'm going to do this quickly."

You let out a small gasp, not believing your ears. You hurry to add, "And then we can go on with our beautiful new day!"

"…That's correct."

Rikai's chest visibly rises and falls, his body now almost frozen in comparison to its jerky movements just awhile ago. He lifts one hand and slowly crawls it across his stomach and down to his abdomen. A broken inhale falls from his mouth.

Your eyes are glued to his motions as he performs many false starts, backing down from coming into direct touch with his genitals. Even though he's still completely covered.

"It might be easier if you take it out, you know…"

"Nonsense. I can do it like this."

As if eager to prove his determination, Rikai's movements finally grow in braveness as the ball of his palm rolls down the prominent bulge in his white trousers. His slender, long legs part a little, making it evident that the tight clothing confides him in a rather uncomfortable manner, making a troubled sound rumble deep within his throat.

Your vision fills with lascivious, pink-tinted images of your sharehouse guardian of integrity cumming in his pants. A flame sparks to life inside you at the sheer thought of him becoming such a sorry sight, pathetic and helpless as he feeds his arousal mere crumbs of pleasure…and how they'd still be enough to get him off, because he never allowed himself that much. You want the sight of him in this very moment burned into your memory.

"Haah…"

It could be pure instinct now, the way he begins rubbing in earnest, motor activity that his brain simply cannot fight once it discovers the pleasure it brings. His beautiful, deft fingers squeeze and press into the hardness outlined by the thin fabric of his trousers, and you already imagine it stained, his cum soaking through.

You study Rikai's expression, and it's not a blissed-out one that will put you at ease that he's enjoying himself; you blame it on the massive embarrassment surging in him, but his furrowed brow and flaring nostrils tell you he's struggling.

"Is it… not enough, Rikai-kun?"

His eyes seem somehow unfocused as he snaps back to reality and looks at you; the rich blood-red color is now tainted with the shadow of lust, his common sense drowning somewhere inside them. Even in moments like those, he's able to recognize the rightfulness of things. The rightfulness of your guess.

"I s-suppose I can try to… inflict direct contact. I-If it will speed up the process."

You nod your head, urging him on. "I bet it will feel good."

"As long as it's enough for me to carry out the task."

Right, the task. With the same amount of diligence he puts into all his self-appointed duties, you watch Rikai put on a serious front as he begins to undo his belt. He does his best to remain as steady as possible, but the tremble of his hands is noticeable and it gets in the way. The strap comes off of the buckle and he lets it plop down, a second of indecisiveness before moving on to feel for his zipper.

"Close your eyes. Don't look. It's indecent."

Rikai gives you a command, or maybe a warning, you're not sure, but you already predicted this much.

"I think I'll live!"

"You're unbelievable! Don't blame me later if you find yourself haunted by the display."

Oh. Rikai has a very wrong idea about the source of your inability to get his cock out of your head. For his sake, you'll spare him the truth. Being this close to seeing him in his full stiff glory, you don't want to ruin the moment. You've actually wondered quite a few times before what he looks like down there.

The distinct noise of a zipper coming undone fills your ears, and you look down to see him put a hand into his pants, unmistakably grasping his firm erection and pulling it out of its confines. It puts your fantasies to shame, as your breath involuntarily hitches. His cock stands proudly with its significant length, rather on the slender side, with a vein running down the shaft. What grabs your attention though, is the bead of precum accumulated on the tip, and together with the flushed color of his complexion, it tells you volumes about how needy he is right now. He's practically aching for more, for a pleasing that counts.

"You have a beautiful cock, Rikai-kun…"

"DON'T SAY SUCH THINGS!"

"Alright, alright…! Aren't you barely holding off already? You look painfully hard…"

Rikai does all in his power to keep the groan from leaving his mouth, but it only proves your point. He knows he should move on and touch himself, laid bare for your eyes as he is. The conflict in his gaze is evident when he pulses with arousal without even feeling pleasure. You wonder if the scandalous deed excites him somewhere deep in his neurons, a feeling he'll never ever recognize much less confess about, but you're observant and that's already enough.

His bony yet skillful hand wraps itself around his hardness, a loose hold at first, a small twitching of his fingers indicating his newfound pleasure as he sucks on a breath. Even his fingernails are so Rikai-kun, neatly trimmed to a perfect oval shape…

Stroking his length slowly, it doesn't take long for Rikai to realize how much better it feels if he strengthens his grasp. The tightness of his fist feels good, and his mouth falls open.

"Ah…"

His movements are a little unprecise, and it's almost endearing to watch him struggle with doing something for a change. Biting on your bottom lip, you can't help it but extend another suggestion.

"Let me do it for you?"

"Nghh!" Rikai throws you a look of disbelief, but the neediness continues to lurk beneath it. He throws his head to the side, refusing to look straight at you anymore. His movements slow down and at last he unhands himself.

It's your cue. Crawling in closer between his legs, you find it a little hard to calm your racing heart. Clinging to the bits of confidence that drove you to where you are now, you concentrate on the need to do this for Rikai. To show him how to take care of himself.

His cock is warm and big in your hand when you wrap your fingers around it, and you realize how much it pulses with raw arousal. He must be begging for release now, even if he received so little attention… You begin to pump his cock with your hand, setting a somewhat slow but steady pace.

Rikai is… very vocal. He hides his mouth behind a hand, teeth sinking into the sleeve of his turtleneck, and yet his moans remain barely contained. He grunts and almost whimpers as you curl your hand around him while stroking for a better angle, eyes squeezed shut so he doesn't have to face the embarrassment of being serviced like this.

"T-This is- I'm gonna-"

It's no wonder he's fast to reach the point of no return, a slight panic in his tone at the lack of self-control. You stroke him faster now, assuring he'll reach an orgasm to remember for many nights to come.

You see his thighs slightly tremble and muscles tense up all over as he reaches the edge, and in the next second, he tips over it; the scene unfolding before you is absolutely sinful as you watch him come undone.

He's a mess; glasses askew on the bridge of his nose and moans escaping his glistening lips, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure; opening anew in the next second, pupils blown with lust as he barely registers the mess he's producing. His virile cum comes out thickly and plentifully, staining his clothes and your hand. You keep working him through his high with enthusiasm, catching yourself moan at the mere sight of him losing himself to the pleasure.

Giving his length one last stroke from bottom to top and squeezing the last drops of cum he has to offer, you rejoice in Rikai's heavy breathing. He's pressing his back fully against the wall now, and he's… beautiful like that; spent and lax, the crease of his eyebrows nowhere to be seen as he lacks the strength to maintain his frown, for once. Instead, bliss is written across his face.

Feeling giddy, your other hand makes its way to where his rests on the floor, and you intertwine your fingers with his.

"W-What are you…"

"Rikai-kun, don't tell me you're shy to hold hands with me… I just jerked you off!"

With a defeated and indeed flustered expression, Rikai furrows his brows once again, taking a deep, deep breath. He doesn't withdraw his hand, but his remains noticeably shaky.

You can't help but let out a small chuckle.

"That's it, you were so good… It wasn't so hard, see? I knew you could return order! You came so much… your body was so eager for release… but in the end, you did what was right. Of course you did. You're amazing, Rikai-oniisan!"

You make the mistake of keeping your hand where it remained during the round of praise, and to your horror… you feel Rikai hardening again in your grasp.

"R-R-Rikai-kun… likes praise…"

"W-W-W-WHAT, AGAIN?? WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS BODY?"

Stunned for just a second, you quickly regain your composure and put on your serious tone once more.

"It appears that it wasn't enough, I'm afraid. We'll have to do it more!"

"MORE???? HOW MUCH MORE?"

"I don't know… until you're shooting blanks? And if the method becomes ineffective with time, we'll have to find other ways to get you off…"

"^%*&&G(##@$?@"

"Rikai-kun? RIKAI-KUN!!!! DON'T DIE ON ME NOW!! EVERYBODY WILL FIND YOUR BODY COVERED IN YOUR OWN CUM, THINK ABOUT IT PLEASE, RIKAI-KUN!"

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[jayorsaiic]

Ohse × Rikai fic made not too long ago for a friend!

Full on ao3! Not a smut! I forgot the word for a non smut 💀

Preview ahead :)! Again, Tumblr doesn't pick up my italics whenever I copy and paste😭

Tap…Tap…Tap

Rikai’s fingertips held a continuous yet nervous rhythmic patter against his thigh as his gaze, accompanied with a furrowed brow, landed on the table in front of him for the hundredth time.

The two blank canvases, settled next to a glass of half-filled water with two paint brushes inside of it, along with a tray of watercolor paints, stay as still as the morally correct man and his disesteemed sharehouse roommate. Neither of the two touched anything for a good five minutes, even after Rikai had to practically convince— or rather force— Ohse to let him handle gathering the supplies needed for their activity. It would be rather rude to have your invited guest do all of the work for an endeavor you suggested in the first place, would it not?

Of course, such a righteous individual as Rikai would rather lick the bottom of a horses’ hoof than to be so audacious!

As he glanced over at his slouched over guest, he cleared his throat.

“...Was there anything you had in mind to paint? Or perhaps you were hoping for some sort of joint painting?”

Ohse looked at the canvases, then up towards the other.

“...I'm fine with whatever idea you have.” He says in his soft voice, per usual.

A small smile spreads across his face. “Well, I was waiting for you to share yours. Since I brought you out of the confines of your room, I thought you'd take the lead.”

That, and he was not much of a freestyle kind of person, so painting, being the medium that it is, was not exactly a skill he had up his rolled up sleeves.

Silence.

“...You don't have to cater to such a shitty person—”

“Oh, but I insist! Would it not be wrong of me to take over a passion of yours?”

“You've been taking over this whole time…”

He perks. “Hm?”

“We can do our own things. There’s no point in forcing yourself to do what I want to do.” A hand is lifted to grab one of the brushes, and Rikai takes note of the way Ohse gently drags the bristles along the rim of the cup to drain the water out of it.

Ohse wanted nothing more than to do a shared painting with Rikai, if we're being honest. He wouldn't mind what they do as long as Rikai is satisfied and feels success upon completing the goal of his getting-Ohse-out-of-the-room task that he fulfills frequently. He doesn't mind— at least most of the time— when Rikai goes out of his way to make sure he's still a living, breathing person. Even though the same responses to Ohse’s usual self depreciation are along the lines of:

“That's not true!”

Or

“You shouldn't think about yourself in such a way!”

Or, speechless.

Rikai never wanted to push too much into the subject of Ohse’s seemingly constant thoughts. On one hand, he was terrified of what would come out of his self-hatred filled mouth, but on the other, he didn't want to chance an escalation of something that didn't need to be touched on just yet.

Sure, every caring heart in the sharehouse convinced-forced Ohse to continue to live with them, but there's still the possibility of the wrong nerve being prodded at. Besides, he'd come to Rikai when he really needed to talk about his mental state, right?

…Right?

…Rikai sure does care, and worry, for the household ghost a lot more than he thought.

A throat is cleared once again. “Well! Let's get started.”

Silence arrived yet again. The only thing moving was Ohse’s hand that spread color and creativity— something a certain someone was lacking— across a white canvas. Rikai watched for a moment as the other’s mind went to work.

“He didn't even use an outline of any kind! Just straight into it!” Rikai thought to himself, fairly impressed. Though, he shouldn't expect any less from such a talented ghoul, but it doesn't make it any less impressive to watch a master at work.

Ohse looked over towards Rikai, noticing how there wasn't any sound of a paintbrush being used in the slightest. He caught a glance of the taller man's gaze, to which both looked away immediately.

“My apologies! I did not mean to stare, but your skills, per usual, simply had me in awe.”

Ohse's hand stopped moving for a split second, before continuing.

“...Thank you. It's understandable how you're surprised that such trash like me could make anything worth notice.”

“You aren't trash, Ohse-kun. You're a talented young man with a future ahead of him! Perhaps not as bright as mine, but it's shining!”

“A disgusting young man.”

“A kind hearted young man!”

“A good for nothing—”

“Ohse-kun! Why— Why not tell me the difference between paint varieties? Even though I'm fully aware of the differences, It'd be a nice refresher.”

He was in fact not aware.

[maywrites264]

Clock Out [Charisma House Fanfic]

About

- Has Kaname in it.

- Basically my idea for what would be a season 3 premiere.

- Shu Matsubara please consider me as a cowriter for official Charisma House episodes /j

- I have not watched every single episode of the series so if some stuff is wrong. Too bad I guess.

- Updates every Sunday

- Content Warnings: Um…none, I guess? Unless you count a somewhat intense argument between a mother and child? Also pedophilia is mentioned in (1) line.

Navigation

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Chapter 1 (Order Up!)

Working at a full time job can be a huge commitment for someone, as they would spend most of the day working rather than engaging in hobbies or things they enjoy. For Kaname Maeno, he was up for the task of taking a job to better his life. He only lived with his mom before starting work, and was an unemployed high school graduate with no interest in any higher education, as he’d much rather be playing video games in his room than doing anything else.

His mother was disappointed, because she knew her son had potential, he just wasn’t using it. Perhaps employment could be the key for him to get out of his hikikomori lifestyle. He could make friends at work, and seek higher opportunities once he makes a stable enough income. But of course, this is not the way things went. At least, not at first.

It had been about a week since Kaname started working at the café known as Caralatte, and it wasn’t super great in his experience. As a waiter, he had to take every order with a smile, but secretly hated every second. It seemed like every customer went out of their way to ignore him, whether it were the teenage girls thinking he was the most adorable little thing, or the old perverts who wanted to get close to someone who looked like a little boy.

But yesterday was somewhat pleasant…or at least it was better than the previous days. Kaname saw a face that he never met before, a boy who seemed to be around his age, with short black hair and an orange outfit. This person looked relatively normal, but he was prepared for the worst.

As the other waiters were busy with other customers, Kaname waltzed towards the peculiar man, praying that there would be no complications or complaints. He took a deep breath and flashed his usual fake smile. “Hi, my name is Kaname Maeno, and I’ll be your waiter for today. What will you be ordering?”

The customer smiled mischievously and tapped his fingers against the table, which Kaname saw as an obvious bad sign. Nevertheless, the mystery man didn’t make an impression that he’d cause too much trouble…until he started ordering.

“I’ll have a chocolate cake, a strawberry sundae, some caramel custard, a lemon meringue pie, 6 sugar cookies…” Jesus Christ…was this man ordering for a party? Or would he eat this all by himself? It seemed like this man was ordering faster than Kaname’s hand could write down, and just as it seemed like he finished, there was much, much more to write down.

Miraculously, the constant orders suddenly ended, giving Kaname (and his poor hands) a breath of relief. “W-will that be all, sir?” he asked, trying not to go insane from what he just witnessed.

“I’ll also have some ice cream, because today is my birthday,” the strange customer requested. Kaname sighed heavily, hoping the chefs won’t pass out from the intense amount of items they’d have to make in such a limited amount of time. Even the other clients looked at this man in shock, but he didn’t seem to care a bit.

“Alright, your total will be…uh…¥760,860…do you want a receipt?” Kaname asked, struggling to keep his polite tone at this point. In response, the client shook his head and laughed, acting like he could afford all this? Of course, to the struggling waiter, this was another gluttonous rich kid, just trying to test his limits. If he didn’t get a good tip, he’d be pissed.

After about two hours, all of the items the bizarre man ordered were ready. Kaname was prepared to hear a long rant about how the chefs took too long, or how something was undercooked, or some other outrageous complaint as he served the customer his food, but all he received was a “thank you”.

…huh? This was odd…it seemed like every other person he had to serve was rude and unpleasant, but this was the first time he heard a “thank you” from someone he had the “pleasure” of serving. Kaname tried not to hide his shock, but did seem a little embarrassed. He figured he’d at least show his gratitude, it was the least he could do in this situation, anyway.

“It’s my pleasure to serve you tonight. Have a happy birthday, sir.” As Kaname walked off, it was getting closer to closing time, and the amount of people looking for a sweet treat slowly decreased. He looked towards the window, seeing all the stars swirl across the sky…perhaps, it was a sign that the night was going to not be filled with pain. Maybe, for once, his mother wouldn’t have to yell at him for not going to work, or he wouldn’t have to be so angry. At least for tonight, things felt normal…

Fumiya walked to the Charisma Sharehouse with a smile (and some crumbs) on his face, fully knowing that it was not his birthday and had tricked the waiter into giving him a slight discount. He didn’t think much of it, it was basically routine for him. Just as he was about to make a right turn on the next street, he overheard an intense argument coming from a nearby apartment.

“You always come home from work so angry, why not put a smile on your face?”

“Smile? What is there to fuckin’ smile about? I spend at least seven hours every goddamn day puttin’ on this fake smile only for people to harass and berate me!”

It didn’t seem super important to Fumiya, who cared about the drama of someone they didn’t know? However…one of the voices seemed familiar, which pulled him in to listen closer.

“You have to understand that work isn’t always pleasant, sweetie. And besides, you only started recently. Who’s to say that you won’t end up liking it in the end?”

“I’m to say! And I hate this shitty job and everyone I’ve met here!! And you wouldn’t even care, because you just want me to make money, don’t you? So I can be a good member of society like everyone else?”

Eventually, Fumiya decided to pull himself away, but not before he heard a scathing “I hate you” from (what he assumed to be) the son directed towards his mother. But the Charisma of Good and Evil just decided to shake it off, it wasn’t that important…but that simple phrase stuck in his mind, “I hate you.” It kept circling in his mind, with the bearer of those words reminding him of the nice waiter he met earlier that day.

“I hate you.” “I hate you.” “I hate-”

PPPPPPPPPPPPPP! The sharp sound of Rikai’s whistle interrupted Fumiya’s muddled thoughts. “Itou Fumiya, if there is one thing you should not do, it is enter the house with crumbs on your face! Go grab a napkin and clean it up!”

Of course, Fumiya’s first instinct was to question what he did wrong. “Hmm? Why?”

“Because it is not sanitary to leave pieces of food on your face! What if one of the crumbs falls off and it attracts a bug?! Then our house will become infested, and they can easily reproduce at any moment! So, I am kindly requesting you to clean it up!” Rikai complained, readily pulling out his whistle to blow again.

Not wanting to have his thoughts interrupted again, Fumiya grabbed a napkin and cleaned the crumbs off his face, but Rikai noticed that the former had a strange expression while doing it. “Is everything alright, Fumiya-san?”

“Everything is fine,” replied Fumiya, not in the mood to discuss what he heard while walking home.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Rikai felt like the youngest Charismatic was lying, which wasn’t a surprise, because Fumiya lied like he was getting paid a million dollars every time he did so. But this specific lie felt particularly strange, because he wasn’t the type to seem bothered by anything. And yet, Fumiya was clearly bothered…

“No, something is wrong. Fumiya-san, you must tell me what it is,” Rikai requested, hoping that at least some clues will be given.

“Nothing is wrong at all,” Fumiya answered, keeping his nonchalant facade intact.

“Something is wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“No, something is wrong.”

“Nope, nothing is wrong.”

The two went back and forth with each other for a few minutes, before a small voice interrupted. “E-excuse me…” It was Ohse, nearly curling up into a ball out of embarrassment.

“Ah, Ohse-kun! You haven’t come out of your room all day!” Rikai was pleased with the fact that Ohse finally decided to check in on the others for the day. “What brings you here at this hour?”

Ohse seemed nervous, repeatedly stammering over his words for a few minutes before Rikai and Fumiya assured him that he could say whatever he wanted. “I-is it okay if my friend stays over for a bit?”

Fumiya seemed oddly pleased by this question, with another (at least temporarily) resident of the house to break up the flow of the daily routine. Rikai, however, grimaced immediately after Ohse made his request.

“After the last time we had someone stay over, I’m not too keen on letting anyone stay for an extended period of time.” Rikai paused after seeing Ohse’s disappointment. “Can you inform us on who this person is?”

This question made Ohse even more anxious, not sure if Rikai would approve of his answer. “Well, it’s someone I met online, but-”

Rikai immediately huffed in disgust, not letting Ohse finish his statement. “Someone you met online?! Don’t you know how dangerous the internet can be?!?! You can be scammed, or doxxed, or kidnapped! Ohse-kun, I surely do not approve of this behavior!”

“Wait!” Ohse interrupted, before the Charisma of Order could go on another long rant. “I may not know his full name, or have seen his face…I’ve only heard his voice, but we have spent multiple hours in games together, and we have been in voice calls and…and…he made me want to live just a little bit more…” He took a deep breath before continuing. “He got into an argument with his mom and said he just needs a few days in order to fix things, just please let him stay…!”

Argument with his mother? Fumiya thought. No, surely this couldn’t be the person he overheard saying “I hate you” to his mom, right? …right? He looked over at Rikai, who shook his head in anguish.

“Alright…but we need to make sure that our house is completely spotless for our new arrival,” Rikai demanded. “When is he coming?”

“Um…tomorrow…”

“TOMORROW?!?!?!” Rikai entered a state of panic, knocking on every door in the house in order to initiate a group cleanup session. Most of the Charismatics were not thrilled to suddenly be called into cleanup, but Iori was absolutely ecstatic!

The night was long and filled with yelling and arguments, but the members of the sharehouse managed to clean up just in time for their guest.

The next morning, the doorbell rang, with everyone at once rushing over to greet the new (temporary) resident. However, one of them wasn’t expecting who this guest would be…

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you all. My name is Kaname Maeno.”

Charisma Charge: Success

[loveburrowx]

Portugal

Request - Joe goes to Portugal for a vacation and he meets Y/N.

Warnings - Smut (intercourse)

A/N - just wanted to make a fanfic with my country! Enjoy!

Joe, quarterback for the Bengals in the NFL, had been feeling the itch to get away from it all. The constant pressure of performing on the field, the endless stream of fans and media, the never-ending demands on his time. He needed a break, a chance to recharge his batteries and just be himself. So, he decided to do something drastic: he booked a one-way ticket to Portugal.

With his trusty travel guide in hand, Joe set off to explore the cobblestone streets of Lisbon, marveling at the city's stunning architecture and vibrant culture. One afternoon, while wandering aimlessly, he stumbled upon a soccer game being played at the Estádio José Alvalade. The game featured Sporting CP, one of the most successful teams in Portugal, and the energy in the air was palpable.

As he watched the players on the field, a familiar face caught his eye. There, leading the team as captain, was Y/N, a woman with long, flowing hair and legs that seemed to go on forever. The way she moved with grace and power, the way she shouted instructions to her teammates, it was clear that she was the heart and soul of the team. And to Joe, she was absolutely irresistible.

After the game, Joe mustered up the courage to approach Y/N as she was leaving the field. He introduced himself in his broken Portuguese, complimenting her on her skills and her leadership. To his surprise, she smiled warmly and seemed genuinely flattered. They exchanged numbers, and before he knew it, they were texting each other constantly, meeting up for dinner and attending local events together.

The more time they spent together, the more Joe became infatuated with her. Not just her beauty or her skill on the field, but also her charisma and her passion for life. He found himself unable to resist her sexy Portuguese accent when she would correct her teammates or shout encouragement to her friends. And when she gave him her jersey as a gift, he felt a thrill run through him that he hadn't experienced in years.

One evening, as they were enjoying dinner at his newly purchased home in Lisbon, Joe couldn't help but ask Y/N if she'd ever like to cook for him. She hesitated for a moment, but then smiled shyly and agreed. The next day, she arrived at his house carrying a basket of fresh ingredients and a mischievous glint in her eye. As she prepared a traditional Portuguese dish for him, Joe couldn't help but wonder what else she might have in store.

When she finally presented him with the meal, Y/N stepped back and revealed that she was wearing a stunning, all-white dress that showed off her perfect figure, including her toned legs and her perky breasts. The look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She wanted him. And tonight, she was going to make him feel wanted too.

As they sat down at the table, Joe couldn't help but wonder if this was all some kind of dream. Y/N was everything he had ever wanted in a woman, and the way she moved around the kitchen, serving him her delicious dinner, was enough to drive any man wild. They ate in silence at first, lost in their own thoughts, but eventually, they couldn't help but begin to talk. They talked about their lives, their families, their passions. And as they did, Joe felt a deep connection forming between them.

When dinner was finished, Y/N cleared the table and asked if he'd like some dessert. He nodded eagerly, his heart already racing with anticipation. She returned a moment later with a small platter bearing a decadent chocolate torte and two forks. As they sat down on the couch, she placed the platter between them and leaned in close, her breath tickling his ear. "This is my favorite dessert," she whispered. "I hope you like it."

Joe could feel the heat from her body as she sat so close to him, and the sweet aroma of the chocolate made his mouth water. He watched as she picked up her fork, the silverware clinking softly against each other, and took a small bite. Her lips curved into a satisfied smile as she chewed, and he found himself unable to look away.

When she finally offered him a bite, he took it greedily, their fingers brushing against each other as he brought the fork to his mouth. The chocolate melted on his tongue, releasing a rush of rich flavors that left him speechless. They ate in silence for a moment, savoring the sweetness and the intimacy of the moment.

"It's delicious," he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "You really are an amazing cook." She smiled at him again, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "Thank you for enjoying it," she replied softly, her accent sending shivers down his spine.

The air between them felt charged with desire, and Joe knew that he couldn't resist her any longer. He reached out and took her hand in his, their fingers entwining as he leaned in to kiss her. She responded eagerly, her lips parting beneath his, and he felt the familiar heat of her breath as she moaned softly against his mouth. Their tongues danced together, a slow and sensual waltz that left him breathless.

As their kiss deepened, Y/N shifted in his lap, her body pressing against his. He could feel the softness of her breast against his chest, the warmth of her skin radiating through the thin fabric of her dress. His hands moved up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing across her cheekbones as he explored the contours of her jawline. She arched her back slightly, grinding her hips against him, and he knew that she wanted more.

He broke the kiss, needing air for a moment as he gazed into her eyes. They were bright with desire, and he could see the passion burning deep within her. "Tell me what you want," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. "Tell me what you need." She smiled at him, her lips curving into a wicked little smile. "I need you," she breathed, her fingers trailing down his chest, "to make love to me."

The words sent a shiver through him, and he leaned in to kiss her again, more roughly this time. His hands moved down her body, unbuttoning her dress and revealing her perfect skin beneath. She moaned as he explored her curves, and he felt her hands fumbling with his belt, unbuckling it and lowering his pants. He stood up, kicking off his shoes, and she climbed up onto her knees, straddling him.

The feel of her warm, wet folds against his erection sent a wave of desire coursing through him. He grasped her hips, pulling her down so that he could feel the full weight of her body on him. She arched her back, her breasts spilling free from her dress, and he reached up to cup one in his hand, rolling the hardened peak between his thumb and forefinger. She cried out, her head thrown back in ecstasy, and he could feel her body trembling beneath him.

He thrust upward, feeling the hot, tight grip of her body as she enveloped him, and the sensation was almost too much to bear. He could feel himself on the edge, ready to release, but he wanted this to last. He slowed his movements, taking his time, savoring the feel of her body moving against his. She looked down at him, her eyes half-closed, and smiled, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Oh, Joe," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the sound of their passionate lovemaking. "You feel so good."

He smiled back at her, feeling a sense of connection that went beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. He wanted this night to last forever, but as the tension built within him, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he lost control. With one final thrust, he felt the release wash over him, his body tensing as he emptied himself into her. She cried out his name, her body tensing around him in a wave of ecstasy, and as they came together in their shared climax, he knew that he had found something truly special.

They lay there for a moment, their chests heaving as they caught their breath. She leaned forward, her head resting on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He could feel the warmth of her skin, the softness of her hair, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this content, this at peace.

As their hearts slowed and their bodies cooled, they heard the faint sound of laughter from the living room. The party was still going strong, but for a moment, it seemed as if the world outside didn't exist. It was just the two of them, lost in each other's embrace. She turned her head to look up at him, her eyes filled with love and affection. "Thank you for the most wonderful evening," she whispered.

He smiled down at her, a lopsided grin that spoke of the happiness he felt. "You're welcome," he replied. "But really, I should be thanking you." She laughed softly, her breath tickling his skin. "Why is that?" she asked, her voice teasing. "Because you made me the happiest man alive tonight." His words were simple, but they carried the weight of truth. She leaned in, pressing her lips against his once more, a gentle kiss that sealed their connection for the night.

As the minutes ticked by, they lay there in silence, basking in the afterglow of their passion. Joe couldn't help but wonder where this night would lead them, but for now, he was content to enjoy the moment and the incredible woman who had shared it with him.

He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at her. Her skin glowed in the soft light from the fireplace, and her hair spilled across the pillow like a waterfall of black silk. He traced his fingers along the curve of her jaw, feeling the gentle stubble against his skin. "You're beautiful," he whispered, and she blushed, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red.

She reached up, entwining her fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze. "Thank you," she said softly. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. It's... it's a little overwhelming." He smiled, feeling the warmth of her palm against his. "Don't worry," he reassured her. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to explore this with you, get to know you better."

Her eyes met his, and in them he saw a mix of hope and uncertainty. "You're serious?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't just want this one night?" He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. "I've never been more serious about anything in my life," he whispered against her mouth. "I want to see where this goes. I want to see where you go."

She smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that lit up her entire face. "Then I think," she said, taking his hand and leading it lower, "we should go to bed." Together they climbed beneath the covers, their bodies tangled and entwined. As they lay there, she traced the lines of his face with her fingertips, as if committing every detail to memory. "I feel like I've known you for a lifetime," she murmured. "And yet, I also feel like there's so much more to learn."

He pulled her closer, burying his face in her neck. "I feel the same way," he confessed. "But I promise you, tonight was just the beginning. I'm not going anywhere." She sighed contentedly, her body relaxing against his. "Good," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow. "Because I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of a ride." And as they drifted off to sleep, he knew she was right. This was just the beginning, and he couldn't wait to see where the journey would take them.

[she-whatshername]

EVEN MORE Tyrrish Headcanons you didn’t ask for (Xaden, Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, aka the Kitchen Table crew)

AN: Wow I’m just posting everything but a chapter update to ‘Drifted’ aren’t I? Writing about trauma is hard for me, and IDK why i chose to make Cree’s character full of it and pair her with Bodhi who’s…surrounded by it. But, what’s a fanfic without a little author induced torture, right?

ANYWAYs, let’s get into it

Garrick, Imogen, and Bodhi would draw straws on who would have to update Xaden on Violet during her first year before Liam was tasked as her bodyguard. Bodhi never drew the short straw but was always the one who ended up telling Xaden. He carried on the tradition after Garrick and Xaden graduated.

Bodhi is viewed as the little brother of the group for two reasons. One, he always was one step behind Xaden and Garrick and a physical year younger than him. And two, despite everything he's been through, he never let it take away his humanity. Xaden cruelly jokes that Bodhi is the only one in the revolution with a still beating heart

Bodhi only 'broke character' once during his years at Basgiath when someone in his squad used a particular slur when referencing his deceased mother. Garrick and Xaden had to drag him off the cadet and dispose of the body and make a cover up so he didn't get charged with breaking the codex. It was their first trio heist together before the actual weapons operations.

Garrick didn't talk to Imogen the first month of her year at Basgiath because he was ashamed of all the horrible things he'd done in his first year

Every one of them has cried in front of Xaden at least once. Even Imogen, though she was heavily inebriated

Also, everyone has cried in Bodhi's lap. Even Xaden, who was also heavily inebriated.

Xaden didn't want to let Imogen into operations at first due to her unpredictable emotions; Garrick convinced him otherwise. When Imogen thwarted not one but 4 separate attempts on Xadens life, it was one of the first and few times he actually admitted to Garrick that he was right.

When Garrick and Xaden found out that Bodhi lost his virginity to someone at Basgiath the two literally detoured from their weapons operations to find out who it was like the protective and nosy older brothers that they are.

Imogen snorts when she laughs. She rarely laughs as deeply as she used to so when it does slip out, it instantly makes everyone feel like they aren't in a active war and that they're back home in Aretia.

Bodhi, Xaden and Garrick have all had sexual relationships with Fliers/Poromish people. Imgoen has not and refuses to out of what she calls 'pride and respect for dragons.'

I think all Tyrrish folk are pretty open and fluid about their sex lives until they find their person. Much like fated couples or mates, its Tyrrish tradition to find 'your person'.

I think they all marry for love only and Xaden's family dynamics are the outlier. Though I think Fen's 'person' was Tyrrendor the country verses Xaden's mother.

Because of this, Xaden grew up with a warped perception of romance and relationships. Also, he's fluent in all Tyrrish history and customs. He knew and spoke Tyrrish before the common language, and learning the common language was very difficult for him.

Also, Imogen is Garrick's person, 100%.

Xaden got his ego, wit and charisma from his father but his aunt, Bodhi's mother, taught him a lot about actual charm.

It was actually his aunt who, upon finding out that then 13 year old Xaden ghosted his girlfriend, made him go the the gardens and pick fresh flowers and hand deliver them to the girl's house with a handwritten apology declaring his 'boyish stupidity'.

Before the unification, if someone finds their person and they choose to marry, the couple would create a rune specific to the joining of their love/family house. Xaden giving Violet a book on weaving textiles was NO coincidence.

Tyrrish weddings are fun as shit (Why yes, there is one in 'Drifted'). In fact, there is a 'Cardulo Clause' that states that any wedding guest who drinks beyond their fare share at a wedding ceremony most pay a balance to the respective wedding partners. This came in part due to Imogen's great, great grandfather who, legend says, drank an entire keg to themselves during a wedding.

Okay now I'm actually going to go back and write 'Drifted'.

[cannibalizedlove]

Something in common

Information and warnings — male reader, mild smut, fluff, talks about sexuality, a bit of internalized homophobia, talks about masturbation. Also this is my first time writing a fanfic, so go easy on me…

Elio was insecure, which was shockingly drastic from his charisma he exuded with girls at his town parties. He wasn’t insecure about his body, or looks, he was well aware he was gorgeous, he was insecure about his sexuality.

He was embarrassed about the fact that he could never get a proper hard on when Marzia touched him, and he hated how when he was pleasuring himself he would always start out thinking about girls, but always end up finishing to the thought of being sexual with a man.

Elio knew his parents would be accepting, and how he wouldn’t be treated any differently by them. The insecurity lied within himself, no one around him was gay, and if they were it was a subject never spoken about to the point he had no idea. He hated himself for being different, he felt like he was all alone. So when you arrived, everything changed for him.

You and your dad had arrived from America, your father was going on to publish a novel, and when he had heard the renowned academic and his family were renting out their house in Italy; he jumped at the possibility for three months with Mr. Pearlman. It was much more appealing than spending the height of the summer in New York, especially when you were going to be living there for free, eating amazing Italian meals and having maids clean up for you.

You weren’t too excited to up and leave your house for the entire summer and bunk with random people, but anything would be better than your life back home. As your father had driven up to the beautiful villa you would reside in, the two of you exited the car and were greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Pearlman, wrapping you into a tight hug.

“Ah, you too have a boy. Ours is upstairs, he should be heading down.” Mr. Pearlman spoke, and a shot of anxiety struck through you. You didn’t get along with teenage boys back home, you were bullied for your lack of popularity, your interests, but most of all your sexuality.

You hadn’t had known when everyone officially found out you were gay, but no one back in America let you live it down. You were constantly razzed for it, and in result became pretty isolated. Some guys had flirted with you, but had always pretended they never met you because they were terrified of everyone knowing. You hated it, you felt like you had no one to relate to.

Your mind soon left the thoughts of your sexuality and instead became clouded with nothing but the sight of the gorgeous boy in-front of you. He was tall, with gorgeous green eyes that called attention to them, messy half-wetted curls framed his freckled cheeks. You must of been overtly obvious with your stare, because you were snapped back into reality with him clearing his throat obnoxiously and making a gesture to his held out hand, awaiting for you to greet him with a handshake.

“Y/N, Elio. Elio, Y/N.” His father introduced the two of you, laughing a bit at your beats of silence. “Hello,” you said sheepishly, pushing your hands in your pockets and avoiding eye contact. “Hi.” Elio said flatly, unmoved by your presence. You believed he was making fun of you, you imagined him telling his friends how he has to be roommates with some gay guy for the rest of summer. A frown plastered onto your mouth, and you hung your head down for the rest of the day.

Later in the afternoon, Elio was beckoned to show you to your room, and he followed in suit. He carried your suitcase and you your backpack, “my room is yours now. I’m next door.” He said in a noncommittal tone, his coldness towards you was palpable.

Once you were situated in your room for the night, you were so tired you slept through dinner, asking Elio to make an excuse for your absence.

Now you were sat at breakfast, and Elio was ready to show you around the city. He had walked you to the two bikes on the wall, and assured you just to follow him. He showed you around shops and cafés, and talked about what he liked to do during the summer. “I transcribe music, read, swim, go out.” You imagined him showing you a song he enjoyed, taking you swimming, going out to parties with you. You knew this wouldn’t happen, Elio was a straight guy way who was also; out of your league. No guy had ever been into you, and you knew it would stay that way in Crema as well.

“Do you wanna go to this spot? I love it.” Elio said, breaking you out of your overthinking. “Yeah! That’d be really nice..” You said with a nervous smile, and the two of you began biking to a little grassy field. “This is it!” Elio announced, slamming his bike down and walking down the hill, taking his shoes and socks off to walk into the river. “My own spot, all to myself.” You followed his routine, stepping into the river with an overwhelming sense of joy. Elio liked enough about you to show you his private spot, maybe he wasn’t making fun of you.

Elio splashed the river water at your, cheekily grinning and awaiting your attack. You giggled like a child and splashed him back, running at him and jumping on him. The two of you played in the river like kids, laughing and soaking each other in the process. Soon, you two lay on the field, you tell him about America, and he tells you about his life in Crema. As you two are washed into a comfortable silence, you look over. His eyes are closed, he’s bathing in the warmth of the sun.

“Elio, do you like.. guys.” You said, sitting up and hugging your knees, your eyes bore into your legs not daring to look at him after that question. “I do.. I hope that’s not offensive to you.” Elio muttered, sitting up himself and staring at the glistening water of the river. “You do?” You jumped, whipping your head to the male. “I didn’t.. guess you would too.” You said shyly, looking him up and down profusely like a madman trying to gage his reactions.

“Too?” Elio looked at you, his cheeks heating up dangerously fast. A beat of silence follows.. and another. Until he grabbed your chin, running a thumb on your bottom lip, you locked eyes with him and closed the space between you two. A soft, yet deep kiss was exchanged. You gently put a hand on his soft curls, pulling him in more. Elio began to push himself up slightly, and began to gently climb on top of you, only breaking the kiss for air. He was so gentle with you, you could tell he had experienced while you had none, but you knew this was different for him. You hadn’t known if he had been with men before, but none of that mattered when he was kissing you like this. He slightly grinded against your bulge in your jeans, in response earning a few drawn out moans from the both of you.

“You’re very beautiful, I hope you know..” Elio whispered almost breathlessly in between kisses, holding your hand while cupping your cheek with his other hand. “I’ve wanted to do this since you showed up, you were so cute all frozen there..” He teased, making you flushed with embarrassment. “I thought you hated me.. You were so cold to me.” You told him bashfully, looking to the side, too nervous to make eye contact with the beautiful boy on top of you.

“I didn’t want you to find out I thought you were attractive and then hate me, liking guys isn’t the most common thing here.” Elio admitted, sitting up on his knees and staring at his hands, mentally kicking himself for treating you badly.

“I guess it’s something we have in common.” You giggled, and Elio pulled you in for a few hundred more kisses.

[liminalpebble]

🎄🕯An Unhinged Yuletide Gathering🕯🎄

My darlings! 💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

It's time for a festive unhinged gathering! Arrive in your loveliest ball gowns and with your thottiest thots and feel free to share away! The more, the merrier! I'm thrilled to have every single one of you here. This time, I invite you all to a lavish Scandinavian manor house.

We can watch the snow and the northern lights from the lovely art nouveau observatory of the highest tower. Throughout the evening, the roaring hearths, lush decorations, and golden glow of luxurious interiors will keep us very content. There will be decedant warm beverages aplenty, a scrumptious dinner, and spread after spread of desserts.

The company is, of course, also a mouthwatering collection of our exquisite fictional men.

Jonathan Pine is in a brand new and very smart three piece suit, welcoming you with an incandescent smile as he guides you in. He smells deliciously of expensive cologne and the single festive red rose pinned to his lapel. Before he takes his leave, he holds your hand in both of his and makes some very intense eye contact, saying, "and Miss, if there's anything at all I can do for you, please don't hesitate to find me."

You barely catch your breath as you move further past polished oak doors into the large glimmering ballroom where Loki is lounging on a velvet couch, some elaborate mixed drink balanced in his lovely ivory hand. He charms us all with tale after tale as our cheeks get warm and we take turns feeding him teasing little bites of cake.

Thomas Sharpe stands brooding in his finest tuxedo, desperately waiting for his chance at a waltz with you as you look so lovely this evening.

Eddie...delicous, sweet, snarky Eddie Munson snuck in with the caterers. His big chocolate button eyes scan the crowd of lovely ladies, and he gives a big dimpled grin. With no regard at all for the job he signed up for, he shrugs off the uniform top, smooths out the Iron Maiden shirt beneath it, and swaggers over.

"Welllllll, hello lovely ladies!", he declares as he plops on the couch next to Loki, even daring to cross his legs over the god's lap and steal a sip of his drink. Loki stares at this bushy-haired miscreant with a leathal glare that cracks delightfully into a big euphoric grin. One trickster obviously appreciates the charisma of another.

Adam keeps to himself, playing the most beautiful piece of music on an antique lute. He feels a rare flicker of joy as he anticipates candlelit ghost stories on Christmas night (a sweet revival of a Victorian tradition). The faintest twitch of a smile moves his lips as he thinks of all this...delcious...company he'll have the pleasure of experiencing it with.

Hux sits alone, reading in a quiet parlor. The general's lovely hands stroke his beloved ginger cat, Millicent, as he plays out chess games within his powerful mind. His lovely green eyes flick towards you as he hears your footsteps, and he smiles wickedly. You're the only distraction he allows here, afterall...and what an enjoyable one you are.

Thank you for joining the party, my loves. Who else do you see? What does the evening have in store for us? Have you brought something interesting? Oh, do tell. *wink*

Welcome and happy holidays! 💃 🎄

Peb 💜

@acidcasualties @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @holdmytesseract @infinitystoner @smolvenger @tripleyeeet @take-everything-you-can @leelei1980 @unlucky-number-13 @unfocused81 @sweetsigyn @veemoon @loz-3 @little-wormwood @littlespaceyelf @glitchquake @viv-annelore @peachyjinx @peaches1958 @gigglingtiggerv2 @marcotheflychair @mochie85 @muddyorbs @sailorholly @holymultiplefandomsbatman @thedistractedagglomeration @hellfirenacht @thenerdyoldersister @alexakeyloveloki @lemongingerart @eddiethehunted @fanfic-collection @girl-next-door-writes @fictive-sl0th @mischiefmaker615 @icytrickster17 @ladyofthestayingpower @goblingirlsarah @chokeanddagger @loopsisloops @slutty-thevampireslayer @coldnique @eddies-house @fairyysoup @jennyggggrrr @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @elegantkoalapaper

[florescentliterature]

Pretty thing

Jfk x Male!assistant

Further info: gay smut, oral sex, mention of affairs

Words: 2k

Notes: I’ve been wrote this fanfic but didn’t post it for reasons.- This is also my first jfk fic I’ve ever written so I hope it’s good 😭

Maurice nervously stood outside the white door of the Oval Office. President John F. Kennedy had called the younger man into his office, and he was thinking about all of his decisions he'd made in the White House as an assistant. What did he do wrong? Was he going to get fired? The thought of the worse happening plagued his mind over and over again, making him even more anxious. He then took a deep breath and turned the golden nob, revealing the entirety of the office.

The Oval Office was illuminated in a soft glow by the lights on ceiling, creating a relaxing atmosphere. President Kennedy was sitting behind the mahogany desk, papers scattered all over the surface making the desk a bit messy. He seemed to be on the phone with someone, his head nodding at the person's words from the other line, he also had one of his Cuban cigars between his fingers, taking a drag from time to time and blowing the smoke out with ease.

The sight of the president made Maurice's knees slightly buckle. Ever since he started working in the White House, he had always found Kennedy to be very attractive, even though the man was twice his age. His charisma, his charm, how he talked, how he moved, everything about him was just so... presidential. That's why he was always so nervous around him.

He then slowly walked towards the president's desk, the heels of his polished dress shoes hitting the wooden floor, making a soft clicking sound that echoed throughout the room. Kennedy was still on the phone, but he looked at Maurice and raised his hand to acknowledge his presence, gesturing for him to take a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. Maurice nodded and did as instructed, trying his best to appear calm and collected.

"Mhm, yes, I understand," Kennedy said, his Boston accent rolling smoothly over the words as he nodded along with the conversation. The president's green-blue eyes met his blue-grey ones, causing the assistant to get even more nervous under his presence. He looked around the room, spotting the painting of two ships at sea, a nod to the president's love for maritime related things. The room was rich with the scent of cigar smoke and the president's 'Jockey club' cologne, making him feel dizzy.

Kennedy then finally finished his call, putting the receiver back into the cradle with a gentle click. He took a final drag from his cigar before putting it out with a light tap. "Maurice, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," he began, his tone serious yet calm. Maurice felt his heart rate spike as he waited for the president to continue.

The president leaned forward, his leather chair creaking a bit as he did so. "You know about the situation with Cuba, don't you?" Maurice nodded vigorously, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Of course he knew. It was all anyone talked about in the West Wing. The Cuban Missile Crisis had the nation on edge, and the tension was palpable even in the most mundane of office tasks. "Yes, sir."

Kennedy's gaze was piercing, as if he was looking right through Maurice. "Good. And I'm pretty sure you've noticed how stressed out I've been. So, I need a bit of relaxation, and I need you to help me with that." Maurice was a bit confused. Why would the President of the United States ask for his help with something so... personal? He shook off the thought, assuming it must be something work-related. "And how may I help you with that, Mr. President?"

Kennedy then looked at the younger man up and down suggestively, a small smirk playing on his lips as his eyes wandered down his delicate frame. Maurice's cheeks then flushed of embarrassment as he realized what the president meant. Yes, he heard rumors around the White House about the president's sexual escapades or making secretaries drop to their knees, but the thing is that they were all women. And Maurice was a man. So, why was he being asked to...

"S-sir..You do realize that I'm a man, right? What happened to your secretaries?" Maurice stuttered out with shock and confusion, the air of the the room was so thick that it could be cut with a knife.

Kennedy leaned back in his chair, letting out a sexy chuckle that could make anyone weak in the knees. "Ah yes, those sexy secretaries. They always know how to make a man feel good. But I've gotten a bit... bored of the same old routine, Maurice. And plus, I've seen the way you look at me. You want me, don't ya?" He said with a cocky smirk, his confidence unshaken by Maurice's shock.

Maurice bit his lip, despite his nervousness he felt a bit of excitement from the president's words, which was not helping his obsession with older men. He wondered if this was a dream but as he felt the leather of the chair stick to his palms, he knew that this was all too real. He then gulped hard and tried to compose himself. "Mr. President, I-"

"Enough talking. Get your pretty little ass over here." Kennedy's voice was firm, yet held a seductive edge that sent a shiver down Maurice's spine. The way the president said that was so damn sexy, it made him want to moan. He's been fantasizing about this moment, but he never thought that it'll actually happen, now it was, and he was already reduced to a trembling mess. He stood up from his seat and started to walk towards Kennedy, his legs wobbling a bit as he did so. The president just smirked at him, finding his nervousness amusing, he put a strong hand on his waist, pulling him closer. "Get on your knees." He ordered.

Maurice's heart raced, he still couldn't believe that The President Of The United States was asking for a very personal favor from him. He sank to his knees infront of the president, softly hitting the plush green carpet beneath him. With shaky hands he reached for his belt and started to unbuckle it, causing the sound to echo through the office. Kennedy leaned back in his chair and watched with hooded eyes as the younger man's hands fumbled with his belt. The anticipation was eating Maurice up, his heart jumping out of his chest. When he finally got his belt unbuckled, he unzipped his pants, pulling them down to reveal the president's boxer briefs, which had a tent in it. Maurice then took a deep breath before pulling them down too, the presidential cock springing out.

Maurice's eyes widened as he saw it. It was thick and veiny, standing proudly with a slight upward curve, his pink tip glistening with precum. The president looked at him with a knowing smile, "good boy, now you see why ladies love me." He quipped with a chuckle. He then placed his hand on the back on his head, pushing him closer to cock. "Now go on, take it into your mouth."

Maurice gulped before gently grabbed the large member, stroking it a bit before pushing the tip between his lips, delicately licking the precum off the slit. Kennedy groaned, tilting his head back, "Fuck..." Maurice blushed from Kennedy's praise, making him feel a bit of arousal. He wrapped his lips around the head and started to suck on it softly, hollowing his cheeks out. The president's hand grabbed his blonde locks and started to slightly push his head down, encouraging the assistant to take more of his cock. Since Maurice didn't have a gag reflex, he was able to take half of his length into his mouth with no struggle. He then slowly started to bob his head up and down, his tongue tracing the veins as he started to suck him off.

Kennedy's grip on his hair tightened as he began to enjoy the sensation of Maurice's mouth around his cock. He loved the control he had over the younger man, the power dynamics making him grow harder. When Maurice felt Kennedy's cock swell in his mouth, he knew he was doing a good job. As the president's groans of pleasure grew louder, the more confident he became.

"Mmm, you're such a pretty thing...Why don't you take some more, sweetheart?" Kennedy's voice was like velvet as he moved his hand from Maurice's head to towards his neck, rubbing his thumb on the back of it while he urged him to go deeper, to which he complied. Maurice went lower, the tip of the president's cock hit the back of his throat, but he didn't manage to gag. Instead, he took a deep breath and went even further until he felt the tip of his nose touched the president's stomach.

Kennedy's eyes fluttered shut, letting out a sigh of pleasure. "Atta boy." Maurice then proceeded to deep-throat him, impressing him, he had multiple mistresses, but none of them had ever taken him deep without gagging. Now here was Maurice, a fellow man, sucking him off way better than all of them. His soft blonde hair fell over his eyes as he continued to bob his head up and down, but he didn't care. All wanted to do was please the president.

The only sounds that could be heard in the room was wet slurping and sucking noises and Kennedy's occasional groans. Maurice let out a soft moan, sending vibrations to his cock which made him let out a guttural moan. He looked down at the younger man again, his eyes half-lidded due to the pleasure he was receiving. "Look at me, honey."

Maurice looked up at him, his mouth full of cock. The president felt himself reaching his climax so he grabbed Maurice's hair and started to thrust upwards into his mouth. Maurice's eyes widened, but he didn't pull away, instead he took it like a champ as he still sucked on his cock. His hands gently rested on the older man's thighs, trying to stable himself due to the fast movements of Kennedy's thrusts. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum.." Kennedy said through gritted teeth.

Maurice felt a bit of excitement as he heard the president say that. He braced himself for the load, closing his eyes, his blonde lashes resting upon his rosy cheeks. He then feel a stream of warm liquid coming down his throat and filling up his mouth, but some of it dripped down his chin. He pulled away with a soft pop, swallowing Kennedy's cum and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Maurice then gave Kennedy's tip a kiss.

The president leaned back in his chair, panting heavily. He looked down at Maurice with a satisfied look on his face, a smile creeping on his lips. "Damn baby, that was good. You're such a good boy." He chuckled, ruffling the younger man's hair, making him blush.

Maurice got up from the floor and watched as Kennedy put his cock back in his pants and pulling out a cigar from its wooden case. "Want one?" Kennedy offered a cigar to Maurice, his hand shaking slightly from the intense orgasm. Maurice gave him a soft smile and nodded, gently taking the expensive cigar out of his hand. The president then lit both of their cigars with a golden lighter, causing the orange fire to reflect off their faces. They both took a drag from their cigars, the smoke flowing out of their mouths and into the air.

"Y'know...You were amazing. Even better than any woman I've been with." Kennedy quipped with a smirk, taking another drag from his cigar. Maurice blushed and felt a sense of pride that he was able to please the president...And the fact that he does it better than his mistresses. The president then looked up at him.

"How about you meet me at my room later on, say around 12AM sharp?" He suggested with a knowing smile, making Maurice's heart skip a beat. He couldn't believe that he was invited to the president's bedroom, that he was gonna be one of his secret lovers. "Y-yes, Mr. President. I'll be there." He helplessly stuttered, trying to contain his excitement.

Kennedy then got up from his chair, revealing the two men's height difference. He then raises the younger man's chin with a hand, giving his rosy lips a soft peck. "Good boy."

[littlemarianah]

What's your headcanon for Katniss and Peeta's children?

How old was Katniss when give birth to their daughter?

How many years apart between them in age?

Your headcanon for their name?

Who gets the singing and art skill from their parent?

Bonus question : please give recs of your fav everlark post-Mockingjay fanfic.

Thank you :)

@curiousthg

✨️Oh god! I love this question, thank you so much! ✨️

My favorite headcannon is that the first daughter is very desired by both of them. And they take a long time because they want it so much. They want it to be perfect and at the right time. Pregnancy and postpartum hits Katniss very hard, it's very difficult for her. But after the baby grows a few months she starts to really enjoy being a mother. Willow is such a sweet and smart baby. Fill their house with her cries, then her laughter, then her heavy footsteps, then her questions, then her singing voice. It fills their home with life and happiness that they haven't seen in many years. Peeta and Katniss are able to enjoy life more after she is born, and they fall in love again. The first daughter makes them want a second baby (something that wasn't in the plans).

By my count, Katniss gave birth at 32 years of age, 15 years after the war. And her second child she has at 35 years old. So Rye and Willow are about 2.5 years apart.

About names... Rye and Willow! It's a name that has been circulating in the fandom for a few years and I really love it.

Rye is Peeta's deceased brother, but not only that. It's the name of a food and besides food, the other thing that keeps K&P alive is everyone they lost in the past. Rye is a tribute to those who couldn't get here. And also because when the boy is born, Peeta finds him very similar to his middle brother. A little boy makes Peeta very emotional about missing his brothers.

Willow is for the tree in the lullaby. It's a safe and happy place. Katniss decides on this name after she discovers is a girl. It's a tribute to the little girls in her life who didn't have the chance to become women. It is also a tribute to Katniss's mothers and father who named their daughters after plants, she wants to maintain the family tradition.

About who gets the talents! They both sing a lot, Katniss sang to them all the time when they were young, so they both have a love for music and they both sing. . But Wiilow has Peeta's charisma and loves being the center of attention, while Rye is very shy and only sings when he is alone. So is Willow who always clears her throat and starts singing loudly whenever she has the opportunity. She has a much more powerful voice than Katniss, sings with vigor, and has a deep voice. She's very good at that. In addition to singing, she also writes music. She starts creating rhymes about Rye, making fun of him and singing all day to make him mad. Then when she gets older, she starts to write about all her romantic disappointments. And I believe, she breaks your heart so often that her parents start to worry.

Now Peeta's artistic talents go to Rye. Rye, being a 14 year old boy, loves to say that he is actually a hunter, not an artist. But all of Rye's arches are carved with designs he made. He loves drawing and carving in wood and when he is a teenager his fingers are all injured from the amount he cuts himself doing so. He doesn't draw much on paper, but he's always creating something. Or making bread in the shape of animals. And Peeta is extremely proud about it. He wasn't able to explore his artistic talents at Rye's age, so he does what's best so the boy can. He gives him expensive art supplies for his birthday and always hangs Rye's sculptures on the wall. He's the slobberiest dad ever.

I could talk about toast babies all day.

Instead of talking about my favorite fanfics, I'm going to talk about the post-MJ fanfic I'm writing.

The fanfic is about Willow studying to be an army nurse like Prim was. The world is different now, there are no more wars, but it still makes Kantiss very nervous about the idea. So there's a lot of mother-daughter drama. Willow is very angry and rebellious and Rye is very shy and attached to his parents. It's about the Mellark family dealing with generational trauma and Peeta and Katniss trying to help their children understand the world. And how difficult it is to explain to those children who were raised with a lot of love that there is a lot of hunger and a lot of evil out there. And also about parents who have to let their children grow and mature. It's about love, it's a famfic about family.

Well, it was a very long text, but I'm very happy with this question!

Thanks, non. 💞

[flamingo-writes]

I’m enjoying your break down on Hobie’s character and your dedication to making sure he’s understood as being an incredible black character. He’s something so different to media and he deserves to have the depth of his character respected and acknowledged. That being said what’s your take on the way people are attributing AAVE to his character in fics? To me it’s just laziness, personally

Oh it’s definitely laziness. But I could also contribute this to ignorance.

I’m from Mexico so, English is not my first language. At school I learned American English all of elementary school and from middle school to high school I was taught British English.

I mostly consumed American media, but I was also obsessed with Harry Potter and Doctor Who. So I’ve always been exposed to both English variations and sometimes mix them when I’m either talking or writing up without even realising it (with my accent leaning more towards American).

But I’m not going to lie to you. I love languages, I like linguistics, and spend an awful lot of time noticing little details in the way people talk. And because I love accents I dedicate time to analysing accents as well as vernacular.

I think the turning point to me, personally, was when I noticed how between white Americans and African Americans there’s a difference in accent, whether is not the case between white and black people in England —or at least not that I am able to pick up through my Hispanic ears—. I think it’s curious, and there probably is an explanation as to why, that you can hear Americans talk and immediately know the color of their skin.

One time rewatching Doctor Who as background noise while doing chores around my house I noticed Mickey and Martha (both black characters) sounded exactly the same as the white characters. I knew it was Mickey and Martha because I know their voices but this is when I noticed there’s no difference in accent between them (other than regional accent). Whereas in America you have regional accent AND white and black accents (not talking about other accents here bcs it’s not the point).

Now focused on Hobie…Comic Hobie is American, hes black and he’s from New York. Granted. But let’s be real, the vast majority of the Hobie fanfics out there are written with Movie Hobie in mind. ATSV Hobie is British, specifically from London (I mean technically he’s from the city Old York, but judging by Daniel Kaluuya’s voice acting, he has cockney accent (London). And i think in ATSV’s Hobie this is particularly important because of the way he showcases being a punk. Not that Comic Hobie is less of a punk, but Movie Punk was clearly inspired by the movements origin in England. And the fact that hes black (and also from the late 70’s) only gives more punch to his ideology. Repression looks different depending on your ethnicity.

I think by stripping Movie Hobie from his original vernacular is stripping a big part of Hobie’s identity. He’s British. He hates the monarchy and the government but he likes being British, as shown in the watch he makes for Gwen. Both the watch and the box have the Union Flag on it.

He likes being British. Plus I think, a lot of the charisma in the character is shown through the way he talks. What he says and HOW he says it, and he uses a lot of English and rhyme slang. And the fact that Miles (being the viewer’s surrogate through the story) doesn’t understand what Hobie says most of the time, is yet another layer to the mystery that is Hobie. That same mystery that draws you in to the character and makes you think: “I want to know more about this guy”

I could attribute giving Hobie AAVE could be a case of lazy writing, but I can also attribute that to ignorance. I would expect the latter to be less of a case in native English speakers. But to non-English speakers it would be either laziness or a lack of proper knowledge. Also because people have proved time and time again to be ignorant in things that would seem insanely obvious to all someone else.

And maybe it’s a me thing. I take my writing seriously, and like to deeply research before writing. I do admit I barely proof read fanfics, is a bad habit I have, and sometimes typos or American spelling escape me. But I try to really stick to the character’s personality. And a big part of personality is expressed in the way we talk. So I’d say it’s important to know who you’re writing about, to properly portray they speech patterns since through talking is one of the main ways in which we show who we are to the world.

[xxsycamore]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞

╰┈➤ 🎄 Blinking his eyes into focus, Rikai shoots another look above. It's rather futile with his impaired vision, but even if he still had his glasses on, Amahiko figures it would be hard for him to notice. And there he went through the trouble of arranging a phallic display out of a normal mistletoe, using two little pinecones and one longer leaf in the middle, tying it off with a pretty red ribbon… "This is Amahiko's sexletoe."

Tendo Amahiko x Kusanagi Rikai • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Established Relationship; Morning Sex; Embarrassment; Teasing; Making Out; Dry Humping; Hand Jobs; Mutual Masturbation; Neck Kissing; Marking; Secret Relationship; Sex Education; Premature Ejaculation; Size Difference; Some Humor; Aftercare; Praise Kink; Dacryphilia • wordcount: 4,422 • masterlist

a/n: Merry Charismas! This pairing will be the death of me. Luckily I'm not alone in that, hence this being a xmas present for my darling pookie <3

"Good morning! Good morning! It's time to wake up, everyone! Good morniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!"

Like the world's loudest, most annoying and stressful, unsnoozable alarm that he is, Rikai once again takes on the important task of bringing order in the most godforsaken early hours of the morning, ensuring that his housemates are out of their beds by the very beginning of the day in order to make the best out of it.

Today as usual, the last one to show up at their door and pass the wake-up check is none other than Rikai's (secret) boyfriend, Amahiko.

It pains him, how different they are in that department. No matter Rikai's tireless efforts, Amahiko retains a harmful routine of going to bed awfully late at night. By Rikai's standards, that's it.

By the time everyone else makes their way downstairs, no matter how sluggishly they do it or how much they grunt and moan about it, Amahiko still hasn't shown up at his door, so Rikai takes it upon himself to wake him up. He takes hold of his whistle, shoving it between his lips readily as he turns the doorknob and enters the room.

A big mountain blocks his way, and it turns out it's not a mountain at all, it's Amahiko's ample chest. The clash, albeit cushioned, leaves Rikai's glasses askew on his face and his mouth open in a voiceless scream. It becomes a rather well-voiced one once he adjusts his glasses to see that Amahiko's chest is naked ontop of it all, with his sleeping robe disheveled and open after a luxurious but short sleep session.

PPPPPPPPPPPP!

"Rikai… not so early in the morning, I beg of you…"

The usual vigor in Amahiko's voice is gone, changed for a husky and low sleep-marred one. Rikai finds himself taken aback by it for a split-second, despite the fact that this is far from the first time he's seen Amahiko in a similarly tired state. Even since they started dating, Rikai finds himself reacting differently to more and more things that were commonplace in their daily life up till that point.

"…Good morning. You're late. Everyone else started with their day already!"

Raking his fingers through his disheveled purple locks and putting them out of his face, Amahiko murmurs a good morning back at Rikai. It's then that he realizes where exactly they're both standing, and the lively spark returns in his pale blue eyes in a flash.

"I was just about to show up, yet here you are at my door. Rikai… don't tell me you meant for us to run into each other right here."

"Hai? I just wanted you to get up already."

Amahiko flashes Rikai a naughty grin, acknowledging his total ignorance of the situation. He reaches out, wrapping one arm around Rikai's head to drag him closer, throwing a quick look on his left and on his right. Paying attention to his surroundings for a pair of watching eyes has never really been Amahiko's style. But love changed him. At least for the sake of… Rikai's sanity.

He uses the proximity combined with Rikai's stunned state to whisper in his ear, "Look above."

Rikai's more than confused with Amahiko's sudden and strange acts of affection and twice as embarrassed, hurrying to direct his gaze to where Amahiko pointed out if it means not facing the taller man right now. And there, hanging on the doorframe he sees… a mistletoe.

"T-This is a—"

"Do you know what it is?"

Rikai freaks out just a little bit, just some barely noticable shaking and occasional incoherent stuttering as he tries to name the ominous for him object. Having visible trouble tying the syllables together, perhaps by sheer shock and not by incompetence, he resorts to taking out his faithful journal for help.

Haphazardly flipping the pages until he finds the right one, he taps his finger on the notes he took. "This is a m-mistletoe. It's a parasitic plant propagated by birds… it's used as a Christmas decoration and… traditionally, when a couple happens to simultaneously stand under it…they must… they must…k-k-k-k-kiss."

"You've done your homework, Rikai… good boy."

Rikai's face turns all the redder as he hears this. The only thing worse than his all too obvious reaction to being praised by Amahiko-sensei when it comes to all things love-related that the charisma of Sex has taught him in the duration of their relationship so far, is the fact that now it doesn't stop here. The impending practical part of that lesson is hanging heavy in the air around them, as neither makes a move to leave the margin of the doorframe, afraid of breaking the rule of that age-old tradition.

Rikai takes a sharp inhale, as if preparing for the air to be stolen right out of his lungs in just a second, and he reaches for his glasses to put them ontop of his head so that they're not in the way.

Amahiko quietly waits for him to finish removing the obstacle and to close his eyes in nervous expectation, amused by the cuteness and innocence of the act.

"However, I'm afraid this is no regular mistletoe."

"Huh?"

Blinking his eyes into focus, Rikai shoots another look above. It's rather futile with his impaired vision, but even if he still had his glasses on, Amahiko figures it would be hard for him to notice. And there he went through the trouble of arranging a phallic display out of a normal mistletoe, using two little pinecones and one longer leaf in the middle, tying it off with a pretty red ribbon…

"This is Amahiko's sexletoe."

He presents his creation with pride, not able to help the way his eyes sparkle at it finally having its time to shine.

There is a second of silence, much like the calm before a storm. Amahiko can almost hear Rikai's thought process.

Mistletoe → Kissing.. Sexletoe → ……..

"HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH??? H-H-H-H-H-HUH? S-sexELTOE? S-s-s-s-sexELTOE? NO WAY SUCH THING EXISTS"

"But it does. It's right above our heads."

"THEN, WHAT DOES IT-"

"It's quite simple. When people stand together under the sextletoe… they must engage in having sex together."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

Rikai is not sure if hearing his thoughts being confirmed feels better or worse. For one, he'd never be able to live down the shame of guessing such an obscure thing correctly, but, now that he knows he's right…

"WHAT KIND OF CHRISTMAS TRADITION IS THAT?"

"A sexy one."

Rikai is now completely losing it, unable to stay still, taking a step back and then a step forward, not really knowing what to do. He's mumbling something incoherent, knowing that Amahiko won't budge an inch from his position to let him inside the room before this is resolved.

As endearing as this whole ordeal is to Amahiko, he's not that cruel. He places a hand on Rikai's arm as if to soothe his trembling, as well as to catch his attention. This, of course, is quickly misunderstood by Rikai who flinches at the act, crossing his arms in an x-shape protectively.

"Rikai. If you don't want to do this, we don't have to."

Being a pervert and being a gentleman doesn't have to be mutually exclusive traits - for Amahiko they actually go hand in hand. Starting his morning with Rikai's erotic face at the realization he set himself up for having sex, is like half of the sex-having for Amahiko. His senses are now wide awake and charged with the sexual energy required to push him through the day. He's lucky to have a boyfriend like Rikai who makes every moment so exciting.

That's what he thinks, accepting the small treat he received on this beautiful albeit too early morning, and he believes that it's over, knowing Rikai fairly well to be confident in his upcoming response.

Unless Rikai succeeds at surprising him again.

His answer is yet to come, as Rikai squirms in his place, his hands now hugging around himself, gaze pointed at his feet. And Amahiko realizes this is no delay in the response; this is the response itself.

"Rikai?"

"I-It's a tradition, Amahiko. Traditions are…  to be kept with."

Amahiko's icy blue eyes widen in surprise. So then, he wants to…

He sees it now. This too, is so Rikai of him.

His blood runs hot, speeding up his heart rate, pumping hot currents all the way south to spur his cock to life.

"Ahhhhhhh… Rikai… then, don't make Amahiko wait anymore!"

"Why are you already-?!" Rikai is cut off by Amahiko capturing the string of his whistle in his hand and pulling him in closer. With no room to escape or to prepare for the kiss, Rikai's plush, agape in a gasp lips clash into Amahiko's awaiting ones, meeting in an open-mouthed and needy-looking kiss.

Amahiko's kisses always serve to rob Rikai of whatever is left of his reason, melting his brain until he can do nothing but dance that lustful dance with Amahiko, giving in and granting him permission to invade his mouth with his tongue. And the latter always takes his sweet time with it; where Rikai expects a fierce kiss that steals the air right out of him, Amahiko always manages to slow things down after the playfulness of initiating the kiss. He asks permission so delicately, his wet muscle testing Rikai's willingness before the other allows him entrance. But it's so often that their first kiss of the make-out session is but another lesson. It's Amahiko's "this is how I love to be kissed", it's him withdrawing his tongue to pull back and flash Rikai a half-lidded gaze of "do that to me next".

Rikai does his best to be an attentive lover, despite how despicable all of this is to him. He strongly believes that the Order of love is to give and to take in equal amounts and… even if he prefers his more experienced partner to take the lead and take from him, he understands that Amahiko wants to be thoroughly loved in return and to be taken from just as much.

This is what his boyfriend taught him about love and pleasure, and what he continues to teach him in an abundance of new ways that never fail to make Rikai feel like it's their very first time participating in intimacies.

Rikai's trembling hands slowly find their way to Amahiko's waist, floating in the air just around it and not quite hugging it yet, until they do.

"Mmm…"

It's how Amahiko lets him know he's doing a good job. A noise of pleasure is ripped out of Amahiko's throat every time Rikai recalls what makes his boyfriend feel good; it's like praise to him.

Rikai failed to notice that by pulling him in closer, Amahiko made him step inside the room, and while the white-haired man is immersed in the kiss, Amahiko reaches behind him to slam the door shut, disconnecting them from the rest of the world. From there on it's easy for Amahiko to guide Rikai where he wants him; kissing him is his power-off button of sorts, as he must be so concentrated on it he can't follow anything else that Amahiko does. The latter often uses that to his advantage; prepping up things so they can take the next step, or inflicting pleasure on his boyfriend when he least expects it just to enjoy the heightened effects of it.

Rikai's back meets with the hard wooden door, and he gets startled a little by it, not understanding how the transition happened. It makes him interrupt the kiss, looking up to meet Amahiko's gaze.

"Must we… do it… at the door?"

Amahiko's lips curl in a smirk. Rikai has no idea how he's looking right now, still trying to be prim and proper even when his face is a kiss-abused mess. Cheeks red and pupils blown with lust, a hand coming to rest just over his lips, one finger pad touching his freshly sucked-on plump lower lip.

He would do anything if Amahiko told him to, wouldn't he? As long as he feels like he's keeping up with the Order, even if it's a made-up one that only exists in Amahiko's perverted world… a world that Rikai is now a part of…

"No, Rikai, I'm afraid that would be rather inconvenient, after all. I'm sure it would be no harm if we moved our activities to the bed instead. Unless you want to fuck me here at the door…"

"Nonono, as you said, that would be rather inconvenient. Let's go to the bed."

Sucking on a breath to summon some of his typical decisiveness, Rikai captures Amahiko's wrist to lead him to bed. Something the plum-haired man has done to him many times before. Rikai must not understand anymore what's considered proper relationship etiquette and what is just Amahiko being extra. Either way, his boyfriend is simply thrilled to witness these subtle changes in his demeanor caused by his antics rubbing off on Rikai. God knows he will turn him into a pervert just like himself one day…

It's when he takes those few steps in the direction of Amahiko's round bed that Rikai realizes the stretch at the front of his pants affecting his movement. Without realizing it, he got erect just by a kiss…

Albeit he was the one to lead the way, Rikai is hesitant to sit down and Amahiko does so before him. Rikai throws a look at the messed-up sheets, a product of hours of sleep. The undone bed of Amahiko is a sight he connects to… visions he will never confess out loud, but it doesn't fail to get a reaction out of him. It serves as a reminder of their current situation.

Seeing Rikai's hesitation, Amahiko takes the chance to pull Rikai right into his lap instead. It's much better than the awkward seat next to him his boyfriend would otherwise take, with their knees briefly touching and their bodies turned to the side in order to caress each other in more of those passionate kisses. And Amahiko loves, loves, loves having Rikai on his lap; being able to touch him all over and restrict his jumpy movements, to press him close in his embrace and to see his reactions up close… it's pure ecstasy.

"A-Amahiko, wait…"

Rikai puts a hand on Amahiko's mouth, the only effective way to prevent those conquering lips from planting themselves all over his face once again. As well as to be able to speak without any unwanted interruptions.

"This feels a little bit… embarrassing… to be doing this so early in the morning—AAAAck!"

He has to withdraw his hand as soon as he registers Amahiko's wet tongue licking the inside of it.

"There's nothing wrong with that, my damoiseau. Most couples find it more pleasurable to start their day with sex."

"W-What shameless couple would make sex in broad daylight—"

"There are health benefits to it. It helps blood circulation, awakens the body… maybe we can even change your morning stretch for this."

"No, we won't."

"Okay, we won't. But indulging once in a while shouldn't be so bad, don't you think, Rikai?"

"I… I guess so. But don't let that get a habit with you. My morning routine is strict and surely there is no room for such obscene acts in it. Not to mention how it messes up with my head for a good awhile afterward, you are very aware of that. I have a very responsible role in ensuring each morning in this sharehouse takes on its correct route, with every resident getting through the steps of the routine to-"

"Ahhh, Rikai… the way you're grinding on my cock…"

"ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?" Rikai raises his voice, all too late to understand that this is not Amahiko avoiding being scolded but rather giving a genuine reaction to being stimulated. There must be something purely instinctual in Rikai's movements for him not to realize he's conducting them at all.

He places his hands on Amahiko's broad shoulders, as if to ground himself once Amahiko answers with some friction of his own, but that only leaves his waist unguarded for Amahiko's large hands to rest on both sides of it. Now it's Amahiko that does the grinding, throwing his head back in his usual "ecstasy" stance.

Rikai realizes he's been holding his breath in only when it comes out broken, in the form of a rather needy moan. He's always overly ashamed of his own voice, looking for ways to muffle it no matter how many times Amahiko tells him it's the most erotic sound he's ever heard. Or perhaps exactly because of it.

"Let's get you out of those thigh pants. You must be aching."

Rikai tenses up when Amahiko reaches to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, finding it awkward to stay there as Amahiko undresses him. Thankfully, it seems like Amahiko has no plans of getting his pants fully off him at least for now. For a man who strips at any convenient occasion - hell, even at the inconvenient ones - he's rather considerate of Rikai's discomfort with nakedness. He's thankful that they're taking things slow, gradually making progress until they arrive at that point which would require… full-on nakedness.

He is aching, Amahiko was right. It feels so good to be freed of the confines of his pants, even if it has nothing on the way Amahiko's oh-so-warm hand wraps around him.

"Nghh-"

"Shh, Rikai. I will stroke you gently."

He keeps true to his word, moving his fisted hand up and down from the base to the tip of cock in calculated motion. It's what Rikai wanted, yet it quickly becomes unwanted, as the levels of his desire quickly exceed the levels of satisfaction granted by Amahiko.

"M-m-more…"

"What was that, Rikai? Did you say something?"

Biting on his bottom lip and planting his forehead on Amahiko's shoulder, Rikai tries to breathe through his nose as an alternative to letting out those shameful moans.

"I want more… Amahiko… touch me more…"

It's more embarrassing than anything; to confess his desires so openly, to admit how they take over him so completely, and to say his lover's name so needilly while at it. He knows Amahiko wants just that; they've been through it many times already. Memories of his larger boyfriend practically bullying him into dropping the honorific attached to his name. "Rikai, how come you're doing such an intimate act with someone yet you're not on close enough terms with them already to drop the honorific?" - he had played that line many times in his mind, finding himself defeated by the ground logic behind it.

"As you wish."

Amahiko haphazardly pulls down on Amahiko's turtleneck to expose a small area of his neck, enough to latch his lips at. He loves and hates that piece of clothing; the way it hides Rikai's pale skin is simultaneously erotic for being so out of reach, and restricting as he finds himself fighting with it every time he wants to give his neck some love bites.

Though, isn't that why he wears it in the first place? So he can hide his lover's marks underneath? Rikai has strongly disagreed with that logic in the past.

He keeps stroking Rikai in his right hand, while he uses the left one to slip underneath the black fabric. He practically feels Rikai's chest rising and falling in deep, air-thirsty breaths, as he slides his hand all the way up to its destination. He feels a soft nipple under the pads of his fingers, and begins toying with it underneath the clothing.

"Ahhh- Nghhh…"

"So sensitive." Amahiko lets out a moan of his own, getting off on pleasuring his boyfriend. He resumes his sucking on his neck, making beautiful red marks bloom on Rikai's fair complexion. Rikai is going to scold him later for them. He's looking forward to it.

"Rikai. Touch me too."

It catches the Charisma of Order unprepared, a task so challenging while his mind is so occupied by the tides of pleasure rushing through him so aggressively. He puts in his best effort, hands clumsily palming around Amahiko's pelvis to find and undo his sleep robe's belt and expose what's underneath it.

Amahiko's cock springs out free, and Rikai hesitantly wraps a hand around it. It shouldn't be so hard, to jerk him off while they're making out. Yet as inexperienced as Rikai is, not even the resemblance to pleasuring himself can help him, for he has no history of doing that. Even now that they've been through all of this, Rikai can't help but remember their first time and all the new sensations he faced on that fateful night, long-negotiated before.

"Ngghhh… Rikai… right there… don't stop…"

It's absurd, how little it takes for Amahiko to start spilling out moan after moan so shamelessly. Rikai is sure the pleasure can't be that great for someone like Amahiko whose whole life is seemingly weaved out of the fabric of sexual stimulation… though he's far from the thought that Amahiko is faking it for the sake of making him feel better. It's somehow…comforting, to know that they meet in the middle of that "easily satisfied" trait, as strange as that is.

It soon becomes a cycle of pleasure that neither wants to disrupt; both eager to please and be pleased, hands busy at work and mouths searching for each other in a kiss would either help them find their ground or drag them deeper into the pit of lust. Kissing Amahiko is one great way of keeping him quiet, especially with the current circumstances where they can't depend on the night to shelter and hide them from any nosy housemates. Even though Rikai is fairly sure noone comes near the radius of Amahiko's door, cautious not to become a witness of something of exactly this nature. It would take ages for the others to suspect anything.

Rikai's thoughts are soon reduced to obscure images of Amahiko touching him elsewhere; applying all his perverted ways to pleasure him until he-

"Ahhh… Ahhh—Amahiko-wait, Amahiko-!"

It's of no use. Before Rikai can warn his boyfriend of his rapidly upcoming orgasm, he reaches the point of no return - and just like that, he is pushed over the edge, ejaculating in Amahiko's hand.

Amahiko is surprised but quick to react, not pausing his movements for a second despite Rikai's jerking and tousling in his arms, likely trying to prevent this from happening so early.

"Rikai, let yourself go. It's alright."

He strokes out a good orgasm out of him, with the copious amounts of cum coming out telling him has once again not touched himself since they last had sex.

By the end of it, Rikai is trembling, breathing heavily, and with tears in the corners of his eyes.

"I— I didn't mean to e-ejaculate so early— I'm so—"

"Don't you apologize now, Rikai. It's so sexy of you to fail to hold back. You were simply irresistible."

Rikai's heart is hammering in his chest, Amahiko can practically feel it where he has his palm over it. He slowly removes his hands not to overstimulate him, while still holding Rikai close, and goes for another kiss. But Rikai turns his face, visibly troubled by something.

"Amahiko, you didn't—"

"Not much longer. Rikai, would you please touch me for a little longer?"

Rikai can barely believe his ears. For him to get off on just this is one thing, but for Amahiko-

Nonetheless, he determinedly listens to his boyfriend, using not just one but two hands to bring him pleasure. Amahiko's impressive girth is best accommodated by both of his hands, after all.

It's a little embarrassing, to be presented with Amahiko's lewd reactions this close. He makes for a truly tantalizing sight, with his arched brow and saliva-glistening lips parted in euphoria. Rikai hates the effect this face has on his poor heart, even after reaching his orgasm.

It's not long before Amahiko's breath hitches and he produces some of his lewdest-yet moans, announcing his climax. The thick ropes of cum shooting out of him coat Rikai's hands but he keeps stroking him through it, glad that his clumsy actions could get him off.

Now there is no reason for Rikai to deny the kiss, that's Amahiko's calculation, as he pushes the back of the white-haired man's head until their mouths meet for a messy kiss to ride the afterglows on. They keep doing it for awhile, before both withdraw for a much-needed breather.

"Amahiko…?"

Panting, the Charisma of Sex throws a curious, yet satisfied gaze at Rikai, waiting for him to continue.

"Will this…count? I mean, as sex."

…

Amahiko lets out a small chuckle. Rikai is simply adorable and oh-so clueless.

"It does if you want it to do. You could definitely say that we engaged in sexual activities just now. But if you feel like this doesn't align with your understanding of a full-on sexual act, then, in that case, it wasn't."

"This is…confusing. Surely there must be some rule to it…!"

"We create the rules, Rikai. Or do you want to do more so that the Sextletoe tradition is kept with?"

"No! It's enough as it is. It's clearly enough."

***

After some thorough aftercare that translates as 90% cleaning and getting himself back in his usual dressed-up, proper state, Rikai is ready to go on with his day. But that's not what he entered this room for, in the first place.

"Rikai, I never button-up my shirt that high."

"That only means you don't do it the correct way!"

Amahiko isn't exactly thrilled by Rikai returning the gesture, and he highly suspects that this is no aftercare anymore. It's simply Rikai being Rikai and forcing him out of bed and to start on with his day already. Does he need a reminder that it's only a little past 5 AM? All this trouble for Amahiko to eventually redo all of his efforts and jump right back under the covers the very moment Rikai goes out through the front door.

"Now, let's go downstairs already. I'm sure everyone's gathered around the table by now."

Rikai announces their leave, adorning a self-satisfied smile on his face as he takes a step forward in the direction of the door.

Just as Amahiko does the same thing right next to him.

Rikai cleans his through, stepping to the side and thus dodging a bullet.

"After you."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[somuchcoffeeandwine]

Another @tav-dex submission, because I finally got inspiration to draw again and also I've been doing their run. My second Durge, Yvaine

Ignore the shitty quality, Tumblr hates me. But yeah, Yvaine! Horrid creature.

Transcript of stats because I'm told I have shitty handwriting sometimes:

Yvaine (Pronounced Yev-ine)

Lolth-Sworn Drow (Not a full Bhaalspawn, like Dark Urges are. Their mother was a drow)

Gender: No (Non-binary, They/Them)

304ish years old

7' 05" or 219 cm for non-freedom units (They are tall yes.)

Ranger, Gloomstalker (Main weapon is a heavy crossbow, it just obscure their armor and I prefer to show that off for reference purposes.)

Monk, Way of Open Hand (I honestly just find it funny with them kicking people in the face in heavier armor, this is due to my first playthough with them)

Deities:

Former worshipper of Lolth. Being born a Lolth-Sworn drow does do that to you, but well... They like driders for a reason, seeing them as kin.

Bhaal: Bhaalspawn, and therefore a worshipper of his. They are called his Ranger for a reason, hunting his prey down whenever it's demanded of them. And also him claiming them caused them and Everlest, meeting for the second time, to slaughter the entire house. They would be a drider if Bhaal didn't protect them.

Stats: Similar to Everlest and the other Chosen, Yvaine has higher stats because bullshit.

Strength: 16

Dexterity: 16

Constitution: 16

Intelligence: 16

Wisdom: 16

Charisma: 16

Full Name: Yvaine Hun' Ani (Meaning Sisterhood of The Widow)

Background: Haunted One/Soldier (Soldier if you weren't forced to take the Haunted One)

Alignment: True Neutral. They do things outside of morality, good, evil. They live only for the hunt.

Additional ramblings below:

Yvaine was made tall because I decided one day that it was not enough for them to just be taller than first Astarion (Initial playthough, purely because I didn't have the greatest sense for them) and then Gale (Current romance, and I think the one I'm sticking with), no, they had to tower over all of their companions no matter what. They will be terrifying no matter what. But as mentioned, they are involved with Gale. Something about his autism attracted them. But they often are back with him, the two being ranged attackers, until someone gets close, and then Yvaine smashes them into bloody bits. All to protect their boyfriend. Even when they don't realize it.

Their simple method of dealing with the group's various problems when talking to people by threatening them. A crossbow held to the head solves most problems. They also don't usually speak much, preferring their actions to speak for them, and are usually blunt with speaking, as well as not using massive words. The only time they actively deceive people as well are lies of omission, as they don't like lies. Imagine how they feel about more than half the camp keeping secrets most of the time. They also get along fairly well with Halsin, the two both understanding nature well, and often sitting together whittling in comfortable silence. Safe to say, I like them quite a bit. They've got their own fanfic that's getting written, called Ranger of None. What can I say, I enjoy writing things that I might not publish

[9leaguesofmirrors]

The Downgrade (a Ross Gaines x Joseph Lisgoe fanfic)

I've had this concept in my head for a while now and wanted to get it on... paper? A document? Tumblr, I wanted to get it on Tumblr. Last fic featured submissive Lisgoe, let's show that old fashioned angry bastard we all know well

So, here's what would happen if Lisgoe and Ross started... whatever they did at the same time as the Ross and Pauline moment

"How long?"

"Just this afternoon."

Ross didn't see the problem. Well, obviously having sex with Pauline was pretty bad, but it's not like he and Lisgoe were together. Sure, the tension was there, and they both enjoyed playing with that, but they never put a label to it

So it was quite the surprise when Lisgoe reacted the way he did when he found out. Sat in their living room, him staring at Ross with deadened eyes

"You expect me to believe you just fucked her this afternoon? After all the time you worked for her, she suddenly decided to go to your house and drop her knickers for you?"

"It was purely business." Ross explained, his demeanour calm and level-headed "You should know that, sometimes, you have to do things you don't want to do in order to get a job done."

For a moment, there was no answer. Ross watched as Ligoe's jaw tightened, fist clenching and unclenching as his breathing became laboured

"I fucking trusted you." His was didn't raise the way Ross thought it would, it was cold and biting "Let you get close, let you touch me, all that heavy shite. This isn't just a small thing," now his voice was raising in volume "this is about the fact that you played me like a fucking twat!" By now, he was shouting. And Ross swore he could see water in his eyes "All so you could get your fill with your fucking boss? It's sick! You're sick, and I'm the one paying for it!"

Ross almost went to speak, but he was stopped by the sight of Lisgoe's demeanour completely changing. All the tension had disappeared, the anger and pain completely evaporating as he wiped the tears from his eyes as if they were merely an inconveniance. He seemed humoured by the look of confusion on Ross' face

"Well? How was that? Was that the reaction you wanted?"

No answer

"Maybe I should've cried a little more," he continued, mockery seeping through "I can fake tears pretty well."

"Joseph, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm not angry." He shrugged, standing up and placing his hands on his hips as he went to the window, leaning against the sill "I'm just a little disappointed."

This further confused Ross, who was starting to wonder if this was an act. But, as he watched the casual expression on Lisgoe's face, he started to conclude that he was telling the truth

"Disappointed in what?"

"Your logic." Lisgoe laughed a little "I mean, who trades a BMW for a fucking tow truck?"

"I don't follow."

"And I thought you were clever!" Came the reply, in another bark of laughter "OK, let me explain this shite like you're 5: you decided to piss about with some woman with all the beauty and charisma of a squashed cockroach, when you had me. And let's face it, there's a better option."

Ross glared at him, not liking the attitude eminating from him

"Maybe you're not good enough, ever thought of that?"

Lisgoe laughed again and walked towards Ross, kneeling beside him and leaning towards him

"No. Because you don't even believe what you just said."

"And people say I'm the arrogant one."

Lisgoe looked at Ross up and down, a smug smile growing on his face

"You're so in denial it's fucking pathetic." Once again, Lisgoe laughed "You should know by now that I can read every little thing your body gives away. You can't hide your dilated pupils." He grabbed Ross' wrist "And that heartbeat."

Ross looked away. The last thing he needed was for his body to heat up now

"Aw, he's shy now!" Lisgoe sneered "Suddenly, he's a pure little angel. Is that right?"

The words don't touch me should've sprung into Ross' mind. But the way Lisgoe was speaking, the grip on his wrist... it enraged him, the power he had over him. What made him madder was the fact he knew Lisgoe knew that

But the last thing he was going to do was let him win, and he glared at him forcefully

"Get over it. We were never together, you never made it official and neither did I. Why are you acting like we're in a relationship?"

"Like I said, I'm disappointed. I can't think why you'd settle for scraps when you know exactly what's fucking good for you."

"And you think you know what's good for me?"

Lisgoe's smugness didn't falter and it was annoying, instead Ross felt his nails dig into his wrist. He bit down hard on his lower lip, trying to muffle the soft sound eminated from him

"I know she'll be tasting cigarette smoke everytime she goes down on you." Lisgoe stood up in front of Ross and place his hands on either arm of the chair, staring daggers into him

Ross had no idea how to respond to that. He just looked at Lisgoe with a shocked expression. Finally, his words caught up with him:

"You're disgusting."

"And you'll miss it."

The worst part was that, if Ross argued against it, he'd have been a liar. But that didn't matter now, Lisgoe was not about to get the satisfaction of being even slightly correct

"You're vile. I shouldn't have given you the time of day, you call me pathetic but you're the one chasing after someone that wants nothing to do with you." He couldn't help but smirk a little, pulling his wrist away "You repulse me."

This didn't get the reaction he'd hoped for. Lisgoe just leaned into closer and Ross was focused on ignoring the way heat spread through him

"Look me in the eyes and say that."

"I said I find you repuls-"

"Not that, dumbass. I want you to look at me and say you don't want me around."

It was like a competition. Whoever looked away lost, but it felt heavier than that. Looking away meant giving in, losing full control

Ross was staring so intensely he forgot how to speak. And, for some godforsaken reason, he didn't want to

"Exactly." Lisgoe hissed "Because you fucking love what I do to you. I wouldn't be surprised if you think about it when you get off with her!"

"It was one time-"

That retort was silenced by Lisgoe taking a hold of Ross' chin in a slow but strong movement

A chill went up and down Ross' spine and, for a moment, the surprise of the action caused his breathing to hitch. Despite this, he sneered at Lisgoe, hiding the mess of clashing emotions in his stomach

"Probably fucked her from behind so you didn't have to look at her." Lisgoe continued, his voice was raspy and full of taunting "Pumping yourself in and out of her while your thoughts were stuck on me-"

"Get out."

"Clasping your hand over that filthy mouth as you tried to stop yourself from screaming my name. Shutting out every grunt and snort that bitch let out because you were building a fantasy where I was there-

"I said get out!"

Ross managed to muster up enough strength to shove Lisgoe away from him and watched as he brushed himself off and made his way to the doorway as if nothing happened

"You're not an idiot." Lisgoe remarked "I'm not gonna sit here and bullshit you, I know you're not an idiot. What you are is fucking stubborn."

"If you think I'm going to be upset that you're going, you're wrong." Ross shrugged, leaning back in his chair "Like I said, what we did meant nothing. You have no power here, we were just two people that needed their fill. You can leave now."

Lisgoe was silent for a moment. At first, Ross thought he'd gotten one over him, until he saw the man lift two fingers and beckon him over like he wanted to talk. With a puff of exasperation, he skulked over and stood in front of him

Then, as Lisgoe's face contorted into a triumphant smile, Ross realised exactly what he'd just proven

"Right," Lisgoe jeered softly "that's a good boy."

Then he was gone

Ross stood in his living room, alone, for a length of time he didn't bother to calculate. This was a big waste of time, surely, since they never put labels on what they were. So why was Lisgoe acting like that?

And why did Ross feel a strange sense of regret looming over him? Why could he still feel a lingering feeling where Lisgoe's hands were on his wrist and chin? Why was he even still thinking about it?

He felt a buzzing in his pocket

It could either have been Lisgoe or Pauline

Either way, he let it ring

A/N: ... Would promising a wholesome 2-parter make up for this? EDIT: It's not a part 2 to this, just wanted to clear that up

[branwendaughterofllyr]

Oh, speaking of the war trout, that reminded me—I forgot to ask this question! Was there a specific reason you chose to make Alyssa’s mother a Tyrell? Tyrell was the only paramount house to remain neutral, but the Arryn and Tully also barely participated in the war or joined late. What did you like about the Tyrell?

So, I picked Tyrells for a few reasons! I actually wanted to set my fic with enough changes to make the Dance realistically different from canon with good reasons. And the Tyrells could very much be a major factor in any Dance AU, precisely bc they sat it out in canon! The Tyrells could tip the Reach to either side, and potentially change the outcome of the war.

I also really enjoy the opposing imagery and symbolism of the Tyrells and Targaryens, the golden rose and the words "growing strong," juxtaposed against the dragon and "fire and blood." I love the contrast between the two, and I wrote Oldgon as being attracted by the close family ties and charisma many of the Tyrells of canon possess. (Same idea with Jeyne Smallwood, the symbolism of acorns and "from these beginnings"). And I think about Alyssa's internal struggle with the two sides of her family. As of right now, she's really only experienced the Targaryen side of her family, in all their dysfunctional glory, but I do plan to bring the Tyrells back into the story! They will play a big part!

(I also think the Tyrells are generally slept on in fanfic aside from Margaery constantly marrying the protangonist in canon era fix it fics, and I wanted to have some fun with one of the most important and richest houses.)

[bg3-brainwormed]

Making a proper pinned. For once.

Ryuu, they/them, 25. Will likely not have any explicit or adult content besides the occasional joke. Overall blog rating ranges from General - Mature due to violence/gore (Durge). If I am following you and/or follow you back, it’s from a sideblog. And may take a couple days. I am both easily distracted and slow to interact.

Fav Characters: All the companions + Minthara + Karniss + Mol and her Kids + Gortash (Unfortunately) + Raphael (even more unfortunately). Complicated feelings about Haarlep.

Current Origin playthroughs: Lusca/Durge (Done - Balanced), Gale (Act 2 - Balanced), Astarion (Act 1 - Balanced), Kyre/Durge (Act 1 - Tactician), Tav/Durge (Act1 - Explorer)

Total Hours: 365

Fav Ships: Bloodweave, Durgetash, Halsin/Anyone, Astarion/Karlach, Karlach/Wyll, Shadowzel, Camp = Polycule, and Raphael/Haarlep. What do we call that. They technically share a name already. Oh well - the “old man yaoi” tag on this blog is reserved for Haarlep x Raphael.

Crack ships I will go down with: Halsin/Raphael & GaleDurgeTash

Things to know: I call the baby owlbear, “Bite.” I make a lot of jokes. Don’t take these posts too seriously.

Tags: Anything about my ongoing fic HtStW will be tagged as “one companion at a time.” Anything involving my Durge!Tav from that fic will be tagged “tavernus.”

Durge/Tav time~

My first ever main, now immortalized. Lusca - nonbinary Durge raised in Menzoberranzan before running away after the sacrifice of their younger “brother” to Lolth… and killing the entire House in response. Eventually taken in by the Bhaalists. Moral compass is a spinning wheel but they’re doing their best. Warlock/Bard

Kyre, raised by bandits who were later slaughtered by Fist while he watched on, hidden. Huge grudge against the powers of Baldur’s Gate and joined the Bhaalists for vengeance. Rogue/Warlock

Tav, short for Tavernus, named by the party after they escaped hell and the nautiloid. Was meant to be a joke, but they decided they liked it and would keep the name. A delightful little freak of a durge and the MC of my “How to Save the World” fic. If ride or die was a person.

Fanfics:

Fav Playthrough Stuff, Headcanons, and Memes

My 4 hour descent into madness as I try to kidnap Haarlep from the House of Hope

Ruining Cazador’s Day

Why Zanner Toobin is blind

Why Raphael Made the Orphic Hammer

THE Haarlep x Raphael fanart ever

Mocking Bhaal pt. 1

Oh really Gale

Pretty privilege Bane

Trying to Knock Gortash Out

Ketheric, from durgetash-third wheel to dating amnesiac Durge (rip Gortash)

Netherstones, the Crown of Karsus, and Raphael’s Deal

Mocking Mystra pt. 1

Why Ketheric dies if you win a charisma check against him

Tav, short for Tavernus

Ko-fi and Commissions

[kitsuani]

☆Pinned directory for mobile users!

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Intro:  

Kitsu, 20+, minors dni in any 18+ manner, jokes, material, etc. (you can stay for sfw; i have younger siblings, i'm well aware you'll read what you want BUT break this rule and you will be Blocked(tm), sorry!);

here I write fanfic for multi-media things like anime, manga, drama tracks (or whatever we technically want to call the horror (affectionate) that is charisma house).

always down to chat if you'd like; hope you enjoy your stay!! Pls read rules before requesting if possible! 

(likes/follows back from: akaruitsu)

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Links: 

(masterlist) || (rules) || (tags) || (current fandoms) || (find the kitsune)