#he's looking fabulous regardless

[hoh-art]

Sometimes u gotta put your lil guys in drag. Drunk Val'dran thought "sexy priestess of Lolth" ought to do - one can only hope he isn't sacrificed for blasphemy ✨

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (7) - Tension

Chapter summary: Astarion needs to feed and things get out of hand... again.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Dry humping. Masturbation, Precum, Innuendo. Astarion briefly talking you through it. Sexual tension. Sexual frustration.

Word count: 5.4k

Series Masterlist

Astarion needed to feed.

That undeniable fact had come to light in various forms.

You were quite sure that, to the others, it was a blessing in disguise, as Astarion's snarky remarks were now sparse.

But you knew better.

You knew him better.

He hadn't even made a single comment when Gale brought home some horrendous tapestry that he promptly hung on the wall.

That was when you knew he was due a proper feeding.

You glanced at him over your shoulder as you diced some fruit to start the day off.

Astarion was seemingly deep in thought as he masterfully threaded a needle along the edge of the collar of his shirt.

Your heart fluttered briefly as you recalled his enjoyment in embroidery. He had once revealed it helped him hone his dexterity while looking fabulous at it.

A faint smile tugged at your lips, and you returned your attention to the cutting board.

The morning had started off slow and quiet and, for the first time in a long time, you had gotten a proper night's rest.

You couldn't tell if your conversation with Astarion was the sole reason for that, considering you did try the lavender extract Shadowheart had given you. Regardless, there was this pleasant and warm feeling brewing within you.

The joys of communication laced with a touch of intimacy truly left you feeling at peace.

But then…

Your face tensed up as your thought drifted back to Ava.

All pleasant feelings morphed into dread at the conjured image of Astarion offering her his blood.

Whatever interest she had in it had to be rooted in something nefarious. You refused to believe otherwise. Besides, how could she even accept such an exchange when dealing with his vulnerability?

That wasn't right. 

You were so caught up in the haunting visual projection of her bleeding him dry, that you didn't realise someone was pressing against you from behind.

“I, for one, am glad we are not back in the wilderness, darling.”

Astarion.

You jolted in surprise as his chin came to rest on your shoulder, his hand drifting down your arm to grip the knife you were holding.

“Anyone with ill-intentions would have you gutted by now.” His voice was low with the faintest hint of a tease.

He was absolutely correct.

Your distraction could have landed you in a bit of a predicament not long ago.

But your gaze was now set on how his hand examined the blade.

“This knife needs polishing,” he said, shifting his lips closer to your neck. “And the edge needs sharpening.”

Oh, he really needed to feed. 

And he wasn't even being subtle about it at this point as his lips ghosted your skin.

“I'll get to it later.”

You were trying your hardest to keep your composure, feeling the palms of your hands sweat when he pressed further against you.

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest and your back. “Honestly, I'm surprised you can cut through anything but butter with this.”

He had to know.

He had to know how your pulse had quickened so easily because of him.

“Astarion.”

“Hmm?”

But your mind had blanked for a second, your body reacting instinctively to his.

His hand was closed around yours, thumb rubbing circles on your heated skin as he pressed his cold lips to the throbbing artery that ran along your neck.

Gods…

“You need to feed.”

He paused briefly. “It's quite adorable how you can tell whenever I'm craving your blood.”

You would have dropped the knife had he not been making sure you kept a firm grip on the handle.

“You aren't being particularly subtle.”

He let out a dramatic gasp. “I'm merely offering  help with this sad blunt knife, my darling.”

Well, his idea of ‘help’ now involved him pressing his thumb against yours to have it tracing circles along the handle. 

“I reckon your grip isn't adequate either,” he whispered in your ear this time. “You must grip it tighter .”

Oh.

Oh…

He was too good at courtship.

The innuendo wasn't lost on you, and you nearly rolled your eyes at his bluntness.

“I do know how to grip a knife, Astarion.”

He chuckled once again. “Yes, I remember your fierce grip whe–”

But before he could finish his sentence, a scoff was heard next to you and you immediately jolted back in panic, slamming into Astarion's lower half.

“Gods! ” he wailed in pain.

Chaos ensued as fruit went flying off the table and rolling along the floor, the knife landing at your feet and the jarring sound of metal clattering around.

“Is everything alright?” Gale's alarmed voice was heard.

Lae'zel merely stood with arms crossed and looking as unfazed as ever.

“Could you two keep your mating rituals out of the kitchen?”

Your eyes widened at her accusation, crouching to clean up the mess. “Oh! No – no! We were not – Astarion was just… just talking about polishing this knife.” You immediately held the blade in your hand for Lae'zel to see.

She raised a brow instead. “Yes. I am quite sure Astarion wouldn't mind you polishing his knife.”

Your jaw dropped.

Astarion was still hunched over the table, clutching his crotch and spilling profanities.

Shit.

You must have hit him really hard.

Lae'zel threw a final scoff heavy with disapproval at both of you before pacing away.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean it…” You started off, wincing as Astarion massaged the soreness away.

He waved a hand dismissively. “You're a menace even when you don't mean to.”

As he straightened up with a low growl, you noticed the colossal height difference.

Kneeling on the floor, you gathered the scattered fruit and utensils as you looked up at Astarion.

A playful smirk tugged at his lips when he met your gaze. “Not even going to kiss it better, darling?”

You were now at eye-level with his crotch and, for a moment, you thought he had rendered you speechless.

But two could play this game.

You placed a hand dramatically over your mouth. “Right here? In front of everyone? Astarion! ”

You hadn't bothered keeping your voice down and as you rose back to your feet again, you saw a couple of heads turn your way.

Gale looked utterly confused while Lae'zel rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the sword in her hands.

Astarion's smile only deepened. “Oh, you vicious little tease – that was good.”

You patted your clothes straight with a proud smirk before leaning in closer to his face.

“I learned from the best.”

And you quickly pressed a fleeting kiss to his cheek.

He stirred briefly under your touch and you offered him a kind smile as you walked away, casually taking a bite off a pear.

“You should do that more often if it means we are greeted with his silence.” Lae'zel complimented as you sat by her side.

Astarion looked as though you had just slammed a frying pan on his head, but his eyes following your every move.

It wasn't every day that once could take pride in leaving Astarion speechless.

He could hand out the most intricate of innuendos laced with sexual tension, but show him small acts of affection, and he will be disarmed in an instant. 

You still remembered that first hug you ever gave him in Moonrise Towers and how he was stunned at first.

“Are you malfunctioning, Astarion?” Shadowheart suddenly quipped as she trailed down the flight of stairs.

You giggled softly at how adorable he looked, even when he finally came to his senses and shook his head, frowning slightly.

“They were engaging in some bizarre pre-mating ritual,” Lae'zel spoke up, inspecting her sword up close. “Seems like she won. Not that I'm surprised.”

Shadowheart winced, disgust splattered all over her face. 

Gale chose the wrong time to sip his camomile tea and nearly choked, and you rushed to his side to pat him on the back.

“You do have a way with words, no doubt,” he drawled out, clearing his throat.

Even as used to her bluntness as you were, you still felt heat rush to your cheeks. “We were not doing such a thing.”

She merely shrugged.

Having snapped out of his previous stunned state, Astarion cleared his throat. “You sound jealous, Lae'zel. Should we invite you over?”

You gave him a murderous look, which only served to fuel his boldness.

“Jealous of what, Astarion? Getting kicked in the balls?”

He scoffed.

A soft knock on the door was heard and Shadowheart swiftly moved to open it.

Your stomach flipped momentarily, hoping it wasn't an undesired visit yet again.

But your worries were laid to rest as Wyll strolled in, accompanied by a Fist.

You bolted from the sofa, pulling him into a hug, which he promptly returned.

“I would normally welcome your visit, but the look on your face tells me you don't come bearing good words.” Gale said, tension heavy in his voice.

Wyll parted from you and his silence was truly revealing.

You shuddered and felt panic rising inside you. “What is it? What happened?”

He forced a warm smile. “Shall we take a seat?”

“Or…” Astarion said with a deep scowl. “... you could simply spit out whatever ill-news you're about to drop on us without the unnecessary foreplay.”

Wyll sighed as you motioned for him to take a seat, as everyone else followed suit. The Fist stopped by his side, an unreadable face turned to Astarion.

“Can I get you something?” you asked.

He shook his head vehemently. “I am not staying long. Just offering an update on the murder case.”

You heaved a deep breath, eyeing him expectantly.

“Well? Get on with it,” Astarion goaded impatiently with a click of his tongue.

Shadowheart seemed quite tense all of a sudden and Lae'zel kept a hand on her sword handle.

“It seems that Astarion is no longer a suspect.”

You watched as he rose from his seat with a smile. “Finally. Glad this is all settled!”

“Not so fast,” Wyll said, his face heavy. “Have a seat.”

He sank back into the chair with a deep scowl and crossed arms as a child who had just been told to finish their vegetables. 

“After talking to some of the passers-by from that night, the general consensus is that you were the only one they spotted,” Wyll said, turning his head to you. “No one recalls a second person being there, let alone that person being Astarion.”

Your heart dropped before speeding up again.

“What… does that mean?” you said in a whisper.

There was a brief silence and you could feel the tension in the room becoming increasingly more palpable.

“For all intents and purposes, you are regarded as the only offender.”

A cold layer of sweat took over your body all at once.

“Nonsense,” Astarion scoffed in disbelief. “I was there with her. I got captured.”

This time, the Fist was the one to speak, “You offered to get captured, spawn .”

“I wasn't talking to you, Fist .”

You felt Gale's arm around your shoulder protectively. “Wyll, this is ludicrous. No one here murdered anyone.”

He nodded. “I agree. I do believe this to be a grave misunderstanding. However, upon closer inspection of the body, there were some interesting findings.”

You were too stunned to utter a single word, thankful that your companions were doing the talking instead.

Lae'zel's grip on the sword intensified, her stare glued to the plate-armoured Fist. “Such as?”

“Necrotic magic reminiscent of that found in the Szarr palace.”

You watched as Astarion stilled all of a sudden, lips pressed together.

“Which we cannot further compare since someone burned down the entire place,” the Fist said, eyes shifting to Astarion.

The grand manor had gone up in flames not long ago, and you did know Astarion had had a hand in it, but with no proof of his crime, there was no effective way to pin him to it.

But it had been enough to strain his relationship with The Flaming Fist with only Wyll being able to keep them at bay.

“Accusing me of arson now? My, my, add it to my tab, dear,” he said with a roll of his eyes. 

But Wyll's patience was wearing thin. “None of this makes any sense. If the two of you are not to be blamed for this – which I definitely stand by – then who could benefit from tangling you into this mess?”

Ava.

Your mind immediately jumped to her.

You had no idea what purpose that could serve, but your instinct seldom failed you.

Even so, you remained silent.

“We are to continue the investigations, naturally,” Wyll went on with a nod. “Necromancy is grounds for imprisonment. Whoever did this, needs to be found and brought to justice.”

Astarion tumbled his fingers on the table. “Well, if you are so sure we are innocent, then let us go.”

“Justice should be blind. I know it is not always the case, but as a former magistrate, I am sure you can agree on the principle.”

Astarion waved dismissively. “It's a sound principle on paper, but its application is tainted and unjust. No one expects the lordlings of Baldur's Gate to answer for any crime.”

Wyll's face twisted into a faint frown. “As true as that might be, I am not keen on upholding such practice. Friend or foe, everyone must face the consequences of their actions.”

A mysterious smile settled on Astarion's lips, but he didn't retort.

Shadowheart cleared her throat. “I could lend my expertise in the matter, Wyll. I could examine the body myself. I have some contacts in the city that could aid me, but I shall need a sample.”

He seemed to hesitate at first, but then slowly nodded. “Very well.”

“So what now?” you finally found your voice again, eager for any glimmer of hope.

Wyll gave you a kind smile. “My friend, do not fret. I am keeping you both here as safekeeping for now. The Council of Four remains sceptical, but if someone did try to frame you, then it is best to stay out of sight.”

You gave him a reluctant nod, realising that time was the only thing on your side for now.

“We've increased the security outside,” the Fist said flatly. “We've added detection spells and mage slayers on rotation.”

You looked up, startled. “ Mage slayers? ”

Gale shared your indignation, the arm around you tensing up. “That is quite extreme.”

“Is it?” Wyll asked. “You two are quite powerful at magic, my friends – but there is always a bigger fish.”

“No wonder my magic has been wavering this morning,” Gale said, rubbing at his chest before pacing towards the window and taking a peek behind the black curtains. “ Two? Wyll, this is–”

“Necessary. For now.”

You swallowed hard, burying your face in your hands in sheer frustration. 

“On a lighter note” Wyll began once again. “I was informed that you are to go to Waterdeep to meet with your contact.”

Gale returned to his seat, looking livid. “Yes. We are expecting some proper information on the Wish spell.”

“Good news, then, Astarion,” he said with a soft smile.

He threw a poisonous glare at him instead. “Seeing is believing, or so they say. I will not be celebrating until I am strolling down the sunlight streets of this city without having my ashes being swept off the pavement and into an ashtray..”

Wyll gave him a light-hearted laugh before rising to his feet, adjusting his cloak. “Fair enough. Though my offer still stands, should things go awry.”

That immediately piqued your interest. “What offer?”

Astarion shrugged. “Oh, dear Wyll made me an offer after becoming duke.”

“Which you refused.”

He nodded with a frown. “I am not a dog to order around.”

Your gaze kept switching between the two of them, feeling lost.

“That was never the implication of my offer, friend. You know the nightlife of Baldur's Gate better than anyone. Your intel would be of great value,” Wyll said in exasperation. 

“And you are an adequate rogue,” the Fist said.

Astarion immediately scoffed. “ Adequate? I could have you pinned to that wall at the tip of my dagger faster than you can say ‘Baldur's Gate’,” he said with a laugh, but his words held no humour.

“I'd like to see you try, spawn."

Astarion drew his dagger from its sheath, twirling it playfully between his fingers.

Wyll quickly intervened. “It's not one or the other, Astarion. You could have both. We would keep searching for a way to cure your vampirism, while you'd take to the streets to help us fight wrongdoers.”

Well.

It did sound like a solid proposal.

“I would still need to feed.”

“We would bring you fresh carcasses at your demand.” 

Astarion was now inspecting his nails. “What about thinking creatures?”

Wyll tensed up immediately. “No.”

Astarion smiled playfully. “Then I'm better off with my current arrangement. The blood of carrion can only do so much for my body and mind.”

He exchanged a look with you.

“I don't mind helping you out,” you said firmly.

Wyll sighed heavily. “Well, I do not like that arrangement one bit, but it's your blood, so it's your choice.”

As he paced towards the door after bidding his goodbyes, you hurried after him.

“I have a favour to ask.”

He arched an inquisitive brow. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, glancing around to make sure no one could listen. 

“I need to go to The Blushing Mermaid.”

Wyll's eyes widened. “The Blushing Mermaid? Why?”

“I need to talk to someone there,” you said in a whisper. “And maybe you should come, too.”

He chuckled. “My days sneaking into that tavern are long gone, my friend. It would not be suitable for the Duke of Ravengard to visit such a place.”

You shook your head, grasping his hand in a plea. “ Please . There's this woman. Astarion's… acquaintance . Ava. She is – or used to be – a monster hunter and she has been taking blood from him.”

You blurted out the words in one breath, hoping he wouldn't ask you to repeat yourself.

If there was anyone who might be able to help you with this issue, it would be Wyll. After all, his experience as a monster slayer and as the Blade of Frontiers had to account for something. 

He looked positively flabbergasted. “A monster hunter… bedding a… vampire spawn?” he drawled out as if trying to make sense of your words. 

That effectively struck a nerve in you. “She is not bedding him… but there is something off about her.”

“Ava you say? That name doesn't ring a bell.”

You mustered all your courage. “Please let me go talk to her… I have a feeling she might be involved in this entire mess.”

That caught his attention. “You think she's behind this? No respectable monster hunter would resort to Necromancy.”

“She's meddling with Alchemy now.”

He seemed… alarmed.

“Very well. I cannot accompany you today, but tomorrow we shall go there.”

You expected more resistance from him, and his sudden availability made you feel very wary all of a sudden.

“How bad do you think this is?”

The Fist appeared from behind Wyll, startling you. “My Lord, we ought to go. We have a council meeting to attend.”

Wyll nodded and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe it's nothing at all.”

Maybe it's nothing, but it could be anything…

As he moved out and the door closed behind him, Astarion hurried to join your side, clearing his throat.

“You two have gotten quite close.”

You scoffed at him, not in the mood for indulging in his banter.

“Well, being pleasant to others has its perks.”

Astarion smirked widely, his fangs peeking through. “I can be pleasant, darling.”

You rolled your eyes.

But it seemed that Astarion was bent on having your attention on him.

“So… sweet and righteous Wyll?”

You squinted, realising where this was headed. “Are you jealous, Astarion?”

As expected, he didn't bend easily to your taunt as he was a master at it and an equally skilled dodger.

So, he merely held his smirk, seeing through your intent. 

“Can I feed on you tonight?”

Your heart skipped a beat. 

Right.

He still needed to feed.

His bluntness caught you slightly off guard. “Uh… of course.”

You watched as his smile only grew wider before he leaned in to plant a quick kiss to your cheek.

Your eyes widened as the coldness of his lips parted from your skin and your mouth fell agape.

“Splendid.”

And he swiftly went back to his embroidery duties, humming some camp songs as if he hadn't just made your heart almost implode.

Across the room, you spotted Lae'zel rolling her eyes.

Astarion came to you in the dead of night.

The door to your room clicked shut behind him and you immediately felt your body react to his presence.

With only candlelight and the muted glow from the moon spilling through the uncovered windows, you realised he looked more beautiful than ever.

Your heartbeat nearly doubled as you rose from your bed, waiting for him to close the distance.

And he did.

With sure and slow steps, he came to you.

His black shirt held a new embroidery near the collar.

Exquisite needlework.

He held a faint smile as you traced the flowery lining with one finger.

“This is beautiful.”

“My fingers can make or break,” he whispered softly, his crimson eyes set on you. “Depending on what the situation requires, that is.”

You swallowed hard as his words seeped through your mind, reminding you that the man before you had experience and knowledge in matters you could only dream of achieving.

He held your chin, gently tilting your head, and your eyes fluttered shut as you waited for a kiss.

And he did kiss you.

Just not where you expected.

Or wanted.

His lips lingered on the swell of your cheek, your body already accustomed to the difference in temperature.

“I was thinking…”

He hummed, tilting your head slightly to the left, so he could mirror the kiss on the other cheek.

“You can feed on me more often, if you'd like…”

Astarion pulled back slowly, an elegant eyebrow arched. “More often?”

“Yes. If you want to, of course.”

He eyed you in disbelief, the thumb on your chin rubbing gently circles. “If I want to? Darling, if I had it my way, I would feed on you every single day.”

His words hit hard and not because the prospect of that scenario scared you.

But because you wished he would do it.

The moments when he fed on you belonged to the two of you alone. 

No one could interfere in the intimacy of it.

He would not feed on anyone else but you.

And that sort of craving was easy to get addicted to.

You wanted him to want you.

To feel comfortable enough with you that he wouldn't seek anyone else.

“Maybe we can do it every other day, then?” you suggested, nearly gasping as his thumb moved up to trace your lower lip.

Astarion glared at you in silence for a moment, caressing your flesh and occasionally teasing further by pushing past your lips.

“Do you have enough scrolls of Lesser Restoration for that?”

You nodded, feeling his thumb being pushed inside.

“So, I can feed more often…” he said, eyes dropping to your mouth.

He sounded absolutely delighted and you closed your lips around him, earning a low growl of approval.

Then you let go and he moved to your lower lip once again.

“More often, but less quantity.”

He nodded with a smile. “Seems fair.”

The room was already heavy with sexual tension, and you needed to disperse it before things escalated too quickly.

“Are you still tender down there?” you asked sweetly.

“Well, there is only one way to test out if you haven't caused irreparable damage.”

Oh.

Of course.

You felt a wave of heat flush to your face at his words.

Because Astarion would get an erection eventually.

It was expected and, at this point, more than welcome.

“Go on. Make yourself comfortable,” he said, pointing to your bed. 

You stared at him in confusion. He usually fed on you while standing. It was more practical and less intimate.

But then it dawned on you that maybe that was what he was aiming for.

“This one might be a long feed.”

Your expectations shattered at once and you gave him a hesitant stare, remaining rooted in place.

“Honestly, after all the times I fed on you, you still worry I might take it too far?”

“Can you blame me?”

He chuckled, placing both hands on your shoulder before planting a kiss to the back of your head.

“I suppose not, but you are free to press a stake to my chest just in case,” he said teasingly.

You picked a scroll from inside the bedside table, placing it carefully atop as it waited for the inevitable moment.

Slowly, he let go of you so you could settle back on your back, feeling the soft mattress envelop your body.

Your legs were firmly pressed together and you laced your hands in each other and on your stomach, waiting for his move.

Astarion hunched over you before shifting until his face met yours.

You felt the mattress dip under you as he got on top.

At this point, your heart was drumming so loudly in your ears, that it drowned out any other noise.

Unexpectedly, you felt his lips on yours, but before you could react, he had lowered himself until you felt his tongue swiping along the skin of your neck.

Just like clockwork, you felt a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body and lingering between your legs. You tensed up and clutched your hands together more fiercely, bracing yourself for what was to come.

The initial sting made you jolt lightly as he pushed his fangs further into you, before his lips closed around the wound and he began to suck.

The first gasp didn't take long to spill from your lips from the sound of his faint moans.

The throb between your legs continued to intensity with each passing second, and you prayed to any god above to spare you from succumbing to the lurking lust.

You felt him untangle your hands and pinning both your wrists together and above your head as he lowered himself even further.

And much to your embarrassment, your legs instinctively parted to accommodate him as he pressed further into you.

Gods… no, no, no….

This was not good at all.

Even through the fabric of your trousers, you could feel his growing erection nudging against you.

Astarion's chest rumbled in a growl of approval and you couldn't keep your hips from rolling, seeking that delicious friction.

You balled your fists as your back arched when his hips began to match yours.

No… no…

The throb in your head was nearly blinding from the blood being drained whilst the one in between your legs only intensified.

“Astarion…” you moaned through gritted teeth.

He slowed down ever so slightly, but you quickly realise it was even more torturous as you could now feel the clothed underside of his thick cock teasing between your folds.

Oh, you were not going to last long like this…

You were too hungry for him to deny yourself from reaching your peak as he fed on you.

Even as your body became weaker, you could still feel yourself walking dangerously fast to the precipice, yearning that sweet release.

“I'm going… I'm going to…” you mumbled, feeling wetness drip from you as your body readied itself for him to be inside you.

Your breathing quickened and your gasps began to merge together as his cock dug harder against you with each roll.

And just as your eyes closed shut and your mouth parted to welcome the pinnacle of your pleasure, you felt him pull back with a guttural growl.

Blood trailed down his lips and chin and neck and you nearly cried tears of overwhelming frustration as you were denied your release.

He moved to grip the scroll and shoved it into your hand.

“Say it.”

Astarion knelt in between your legs, fumbling with the lacing of his trousers, his bulge strained against the fabric and you spotted the familiar stains of precum.

“Say it…” he urged you with a growl.

But you could only stare, mesmerised at the beautiful sight of relief he let out once he managed to ease pressure that had built up.

It made your mouth water and you suddenly felt the urge to touch yourself.

“Say. It .”

As if he had just snapped you from a dream, you quickly mumbled the incantation as the scroll vanished into thin air.

Your heart was hit with newfound vigour as warmth spread throughout your body on rhythmic waves.

Astarion slid off the bed, adjusting himself through his clothes with a whine. 

He looked so beautiful… ears flushed pink and a tint of a blush on his face as your blood coursed through him.

The swell and throb didn't fade and you allowed your fingers to dip slightly under the waistband, wanting nothing but release.

He eventually locked eyes with you, licking the remnants of your blood from his lips, pacing closer to you.

With a gasp, you felt him tug at the strings of your own trousers, eyes dark and pupils fully blown.

“Do what you must.”

He had loosened them just enough for your hand to slide inside, and you couldn't contain the moan that erupted from within you once the pads of your fingers brushed against the throbbing swell between your legs.

Instinctively, you began to roll your hips, feeling just how ridiculously soaked you were for him.

Your half-hooded eyes landed on his lower half, taking in the sight of the precum that had seeped through the fabric and wishing you could see his cock.

Astarion's cock always looked the prettiest after he had fed on you: all flushed pink, bulging veins snaking around his length, precum dribbling down…

But it seemed that he had no intention of granting you your wish, and you felt guilty for craving it in the first place, knowing he probably just wanted to take his time.

So you stopped your ministrations, which earned a disapproving growl from him.

“Keep going. I can hear how wet you are for me and it's music to my ears,” he whispered, before kneeling at your side. “Be a good girl… please .”

Your hips bucked at the caress from his words.

His face was so close, but his eyes were fixed on your hand that moved under your trousers, your own fingers teasing your entrance.

“You just slid one inside, didn't you?”

You bit down on your lip, nodding with a whimper as you clenched around yourself.

“Gods… you can take another one, can't you?”

Your back arched and your eyes fluttered shut. “Astarion…”

His lips ghosted yours. “Add another one…”

His voice was dripping with lust and it was all the incentive you needed to push a second one inside.

You tried to remember how his cock felt inside you. How full you always felt and how much cum he spilled inside you.

Your fingers were no match for him.

He felt so much better…

How you wished he would replace your fingers with his, going knuckle-deep and drawing out the most desperate moans and pleas from you.

He finally pressed his now warm lips against yours and you eagerly deepened the kiss, tasting your blood on his tongue.

You kept riding your own fingers and you nearly whimpered as his hand came to rest on your forearm, thumb caressing your heated skin.

He broke the kiss not long after and your eyes snapped open as you were about to voice a complaint.

Astarion was on his feet again, fingers expertly tying the front of his trousers once again, drawing a pained hiss as his hard cock was once again strained. 

You whimpered in response, rolling your hips desperately as your fingers edged you closer and closer.

“It's frustrating, isn't it?” he asked as he finished working on the lacing, crushing your hopes of seeing his cock leaking precum for you.

“Now you know how it feels..." he said, a devious smile crossing his face. "Besides, I still wonder if this is what friends do."

Your jaw slacked open as a gasp mixed with a whine escaped your lips from his taunting words.

No. No. No...

"See, you never gave me an answer, darling."

You removed your fingers from deep within you with a long and pained whine on the verge of tears.

"I'll leave you to figure it out, then."

Before you could voice a protest, he slipped out of the room quickly, and you vaguely wondered if he had been there at all if not more the ache between your legs and the fresh puncture wounds in your neck.

Fuck.

TBC

series masterlist . ao3

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Part 1: A grumpy Canadian enters

A/N: Hello guys! This is a Logan x Female reader story. So please enjoy!

Description: Violet, on the run from a dark past, finds herself stuck with Logan as her roommate, with her unpredictable best friend Wade by her side. As she navigates the chaos of her new life, she must choose between a love that could save her and a darkness that could consume her.

3.6k words

"Have you thought about what I told you?" I asked Vanessa as I sat across from her at our local coffee shop. 

"Yes, and I think I'm ready to talk to him about us." she says with a soft smile. 

A few weeks ago, before Wade unexpectedly left on his birthday party, I told Vannesa that she should get back together with him. They are such a cute couple, and Vanessa deserves to be with the person she loves, even though he's a total dickwad. I have known Wade for about six years when I auditioned for his superhero team. Or whatever you can call a group of morons who all collectively came together to save a chubby kid from being killed by a time travel freak with a medal arm. Regardless of mine and Wade's differences, like who is better, Edward or Jacob, or if pineapple belongs on pizza (it doesn't), he is still considered one of my best friends, along with Vanessa, whom I love dearly like a sister.

As I come back from my daydreaming, Vanessa gives me a slight grin and proceeds to ask her annoying question.

"So... now that Wade and I are possibly getting back together, why have you been avoiding the dating pool? I mean, I love you, but I don't want to see you die alone or possibly be forced to marry someone just to settle down. I want you to find someone who you can pour your heart into, like I do with Wade."

I look at her with annoyance and roll my eyes at her dramatic statement. After my last cheating boyfriend Adam who fucked my roommate by the way in my apartment, I've never found someone who truly moved me and made me feel special. I have gone on dates alone and even double dates with Nessa and Wade, but I have never felt something inside of me that truly made me desire them. When Vanessa talks about her and Wade's love lives and even their sex lives, she makes it sound like it's filled with passion and thrill, and I haven't experienced that with anyone yet. And I'm not even sure I ever will. 

"We've talked about this, Vanessa. I haven't found anyone interesting, and I'm not going to force it by going to some lame bar and picking up the first person who shows interest." She laughs at my statement but doesn't say anything in response.

As we walked back to our building, we saw Wade with a dog who looked strangly like him, and along with him was a man with a very nice build and he was really handsome. As Wade spotted Vanessa walking down the street with me, he quickly let his dog sit on the ground and sprinted over to her, arms wide open.

"Vanessa! My love, my light, my everything! You look stunning as ever. It's like seeing the sun come up after a night of binge-watching questionable rom-coms. How about we skip all this mundane reality stuff and dive straight into a romantic montage? I've missed you more than tacos on a Tuesday!"

She pushes her off him. "Where the hell have you been? You left the party without even saying anything, and you expect me to be happy to see you?!" She says it angerfully.

I laugh, and he turns to me. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite partner in crime," he said, giving me a playful nudge. "Looking fabulous as always. I swear, every time I see you, it's like someone cranked up the glam dial to eleven." He says with a sly smile.

I roll my eyes and, angrly, ask him the same question. "No, Wade, where the hell have you been? I called 20 times, and not one single call was returned!" I quickly glanced at his friend, and he was already staring at me. I quickly looked back at Wade, waiting for a response.

Wade raised his hands in mock surrender, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, tiger! I knew I should've upgraded my phone plan to include 'dealing with angry best friends' insurance. But in my defense, I was, uh... busy saving the world? Or maybe I got distracted by a marathon of cat videos. They're surprisingly addictive, you know!"

He glanced at his friend, who was still watching the exchange with interest, and then turned back to me with a wink.

"But seriously, I'm sorry for ghosting you two. I'll explain everything later, but for now, I need to kiss my girl."

He looked at Vanessa, and she stopped him, putting her hand on his mouth. "I'm not your girl; we still have a lot to talk about, Wade."

Wade paused, eyes wide with mock horror. He slowly removed her hand, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk.

"Oh, come on, Vanessa! You know, I can't resist kissing my favorite girl, even if I have to work a little harder for it. But I get it, I get it—relationship talk first, smooches later. Consider me on my best behavior. We can talk about anything and everything you want—whether it's why I've been MIA or what I'm planning for our next adventure."

As he looks at his friend, he slaps his own forehead.

"I almost forgot, ladies, feast your eyes on the one, the only, the eternally grumpy Canadian himself—Wolverine! Or, as I like to call him, Logan, he is the sharpest guy I know. And no, that's not just a reference to his claws." He nudged Wolverine with his elbow, grinning.

"This is the guy who puts the 'X' in 'X-Men' and the 'grr' in 'gruff.' When he's not busy saving the world or scowling, he's perfecting his signature brooding look and cutting sarcasm. You might say he's the best there is at what he does, and what he does is... make me look even more sexy by comparison." Wade turned to Vanessa and I with a wink.

"Don't worry; he's not as intimidating as he seems. Just give him a beer, and he'll be your best friend—or at least tolerate you with only minimal growling. Logan, meet Vanessa, my stunning muse, and Violet, my partner in crime. Try not to scare them off with your rugged charm, alright?" Logan just rolls his eyes at his stupid introduction.

Vanessa extends her arm to shake his hand, and he hesitates for a moment but shakes it with a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Logan." She says with a smile. Logan responds with a sarcastic tone, "Yeah, you too."

I extend my hand to do the same, and he takes it, but my hand lingers in his for a moment before he quickly pulls away. It's nice to meet you, Logan. Knowing the mouth that Wade has on him, you must have dealt with a few suicidal thoughts." I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

He smirks at my question and says , "Yeah, you could say that."

Wade clapped his hands together with an exaggerated gasp, clearly delighted by the interaction.

"Oh, I see what's happening here! Bonding over my endless ability to drive people nuts! Classic move, Vi." he said with a playful grin.

He waggled his eyebrows at Wolverine. "See, Logan? I told you my best friend's got a wicked sense of humor. We could start a support group for people who've survived my witty repartee. 'Deadpool's Survivors Club.' Meetings every Tuesday—blizzard dust and therapy provided."

Vanessa and I laughed at his comment, and we all headed back to his place.

Before I went to wades place I departed from the group and went into my apartment that was two doors over from his. I decided to get comfortable and take my working clothes off that had dirt on them from washing flowers. 

I work at a flower shop that's about two blocks from here. I started working there about two years ago. The pay is great; I can pay my bills and treat myself once in a while. but I also live comfortingly because of my grandparents trust fund. My grandparents took care of me until I was 19 years old. They were doctors and were very successful. My parents died in a car crash when I was five. I don't really remember anything from that time. I guess my brain blocked all that trauma out. But regardless, I still ended up being experimented on by these mad scientists with some glowy gems. That's what granted me my abilities. And they used me to kill people. I try to forget at times, but now, ten years later, I'm here, surrounded by family who I adore.

I decided to change into a red tank top and grey sweatpants with my black and white Converse. By the look of the clouds, it looks like it's going to start to rain. I brush my hair and add a little makeup to clean myself up a bit. I finish up with a vanilla mist that Vanessa got me for my birthday, and I head out the door. 

I knock on Wade's door, and through the door I hear muffling sounds and loud music. Nobody answers, so I open the door myself. The room is filled with some X-force members, along with Tin Man. Ellie and their adorable girl friend are singing kareoke. On the other side of the room in the kitchen, I see blind Al sniffing a line, Vanessa and Wade making out, and other junkies eating and drinking food. How did this escalate so quickly? I was only gone for 30 minutes. As I scanned the room to find a spot to sit, I saw Logan on the couch with a beer in his hand, watching Beyonce and Ariana horribly sing. There's a seat next to his, so I decided to sit next to him. 

"Are you enjoying the party?" I asked with a smile.

Logan glanced at you, his expression flat.

"It's something, all right," he grumbled, taking another sip of his beer. "At least the beer's cold."

He shook his head slightly, watching the chaos unfold with a weary look.

"I've seen worse," he added with a shrug. 

Logan leaned back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "You here to rescue me, or just enjoying the show?"

I pressed my lips together. He's not one to have a conversation with because he's so moody, and I'm determined to find out why, but I'll just play along with his nonchalant attitude for now. 

"Just enjoying the show," I replied with a smirk. Logan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't press further, turning his attention back to the chaos around us. 

"Are you going to drink something?" he asked in a low voice.

"There's nothing here that doesn't destroy your liver." I said it with a tight smile.

"You don't drink?" he asked curiously.

"No." I said firmly, trying to keep the conversation light. "I prefer to keep a clear head in situations like this." Logan nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response, and we continued to watch the chaos unfold around us in silence. 

"So, how did you meet Wade?" I asked curiously. 

Logan took a moment, swirling his beer thoughtfully before answering.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a fairy tale," he replied with a wry smile. "Wade showed up out of nowhere, talking about timelines and some TVA nonsense. I thought he was just some weird fuck who wanted to mess with me."

He sighed, shaking his head at the memory.

"But then there was this whole thing with Cassandra threatening the timeline. I guess we ended up being unlikely allies. Not my first choice, but he's persistent."

Logan glanced at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Wade's like a bad rash; he just keeps coming back until you deal with him. At least this time, we managed to save the day and avoid a multiverse meltdown."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "You could say it was... educational."

I looked at him confused because, honestly, I did not understand any word that he said. He saw my expression puzzled but didn't focus too much on it. 

"How did you meet a fucker like Wade?" he asked.

"It's a long story, but I've known him for about 6 years, and I met him when I auditioned for the X Force." 

"Wait, you auditioned for the X Force? Why? " He looked at me strangely. 

"Well, I have abilities of my own, and I wanted to use them for good." I said with a dry smile. 

Logan nodded, processing your answer with a gruff expression.

"Abilities, huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Wade's got a knack for attracting people like us. But an audition? That sounds like something only Wade would come up with."

Logan leaned back, giving you a more appraising look. "So, what can you do? And how've you survived six years with Wade without losing your mind?"

We talked about Wade and how fucked up in the head he was. Until I saw the time. It read 11:50. 

"Oh, shoot, I have to get going. I have work in the morning." I said as I quickly stood up. 

I quickly turned around and waved everyone good bye. As I headed for the door, Wade trotted after me with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hey, wait up!" he called, catching up to me just as I stepped outside. "Before you disappear into the responsible adult dimension, I've got a burning question."

He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice with mock seriousness. "So, does your annoying roommate still haunt your apartment, or have you finally exorcised that particular demon? I mean, I can't be the only one who thinks she's a walking buzzkill, right?"

I laughed at his remark about my ex roommate. I crossed my arms at his question. 

"Why?" I said with a stern face. 

Wade put on his best innocent face, which was hard to take seriously with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, no reason," he said, feigning nonchalance as he rocked back on his heels. "It's just that I have this furry, brooding friend who might be in the market for a new place to crash."

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "You see, Logan here has this whole 'lone wolf' vibe going on, but I think deep down, he's just a cuddly, oversized teddy bear in need of a cozy new den."

Wade wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Plus, think about it: free security, and you'll never have to worry about running out of beer. And if you two ever get into an argument, he's got that healing factor, so no worries about broken bones or anything."

He flashed a grin, clearly enjoying himself. "So, what do you say? Got room for one more grumpy Canadian in your life?"

I looked at him, trying to see if this would be a good idea. He gave me puppy eyes, and I responded by rolling my eyes back. "Is he messy?" I asked, annoyed. 

"I don't think so; let me ask." He quickly turned around and started skipping to his door. Before I could say anything, he brought out Logan. In the dim light of the hallway, I could see through his white beater tank top, which revealed his muscular physique. It made my mouth salivate. Why am I thinking this way? 

I look at Wade, and he looks at Logan. " Are you messy?" 

Logan crossed his arms, giving Wade a skeptical look before turning his attention to you.

"Messy?" he grunted, his voice gravelly. "Not really. I keep to myself and clean up after I eat.

Logan glanced at Wade, then back at you, with a hint of a smirk. "But if you're expecting a neat freak, you might want to look elsewhere. I'm not exactly Martha Stewart."

He paused for a moment, reading your expression, and added, "And don't worry, I don't bite. Much."

I rolled my eyes at his comment. He's clearly drunk, but I trust he's just trying to make a joke. Plus, his honesty about his habits is refreshing in a roommate. 

"Fine." I said with a thin smile.

Wade's eyes lit up with excitement as soon as I said "fine."

"Score one for Team Wolverine!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air like he'd just won a championship. "You won't regret it! Well, maybe a little, but hey, what's life without some excitement, right?"

He clapped Logan on the back with a playful grin. "Welcome to your new home, bub! Remember, no claw marks on the good furniture, and try to keep the late-night growling to a minimum unless you want Violet to reconsider."

Wade turned back to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You've got yourself a real-life superhero as a roommate! Not everyone can say that. Just don't let him hog the remote on movie night—or the weed stash."

He gave you a thumbs up, clearly pleased with the outcome. "So, when's the housewarming party? I'll bring the chimichangas and some earplugs for those late-night howls, or we can do a threesome, whichever you prefer."

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. 

I drew my attention to Logan before I spoke. "Go get your stuff so you can settle in." I said this as I turned to unlock my door. Wade kissed me on the cheek and walked with Logan back to his apartment. 

I turned on the light from the spare room and thanked God that I cleaned it the second that whore Sara moved out because it was a mess. Luckily, the bed had fresh sheets, and it smelled clean. I heard a firm knock on the door. 

That must be Logan. 

I opened the door and saw Adam drunk and crying. 

"Adam, what the hell are you doing here?" Adam, my cheating ex-boyfriend that I mentioned before, was here begging me to take him back and to forgive him for fucking my roommate on my new couch. 

I crotched down to his level and said, "I'm never going to fucking forgive you for what you did to me. We were fucking engaged, but you chose to fuck another girl. Not a random girl, my fucking roommate, who I considered my closest friend. You know how I feel about lies and betrayals." I said with tears forming in my eyes. I know that he used and hurt me, but I can't help but feel heartbroken, even though this happened two months ago. He started to come closer until I tripped back on my ass. I landed on the floor, and he was on top of me. "Get off of me!" I said angrly. As I squirmed under him, I felt my eyes glow, and my powers wanted to come out and play, but I held the urge as I was fighting him off. All of a sudden, I hear loud footsteps coming towards us. Logan comes out of nowhere and grabs him by the collar. He yanks him onto the floor. My eyes are still closed as I try to control my outburst. I hear Logan yell at him, to never set foot here again, and Adam runs off. 

As I control my breathing, Logan comes next to me and leans in. "It's ok, he's gone." He said in a low voice. I feel better for some reason now that he's by my side. I thank him still, with my eyes closed. I stand up and open my eyes to see him staring into mine. I blink the tears away and grab a glass of water. 

"Who was that punk?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. I take a deep breath before responding, "My ex-boyfriend." I said calmly. 

He doesn't say anything. I stand still until I finish my cup of water. 

"Ok, sorry about that. Let's start with the tour. I have to get up early tomorrow. " I said with a soft smile. He nodded and proceeded with the living room.

As I gave the tour, he stared very intently at everything. How the laundry machines worked and where stuff was located in the kitchen. And I offered him a glass of water. After I gave a tour of everything but the bedrooms, he jugged the glass of water, and I stared intensely. The way his Adam's apple would bob from the gulp and the water droplets rolling down on his throat onto his hairy chest. He's so handsome and muscular. The way his dark blue jeans hug his thighs and how tight his pants are around the crotch area makes me feel parched. I quickly composed myself before he noticed I was staring too hard. Oh, he noticed

I opened my bedroom to let him take a peek. "Here's my bedroom, so if you need anything, just knock on the door. Next to mine is yours." I opened the bedroom door, and it was simple not girly or masculine, just normal. He shook his head in greatfulness. "Thank you for letting me stay here. It means a lot." I smiled at him as a response. 

"I left you some things on your bed that you might need, but if you don't have any questions, then this is it." I smiled once more and walked into my room. 

He walked into his, and we both closed our doors. I quickly put on my pijamas, which were a pair of short shorts and a small tank top. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I walked back to my room, I heard a knock on my door. It was him asking if he could borrow a toothbrush. I thought I gave him one, but I must have forgotten. I walked over to the restroom, and he followed. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't pay too much attention. I leaned down to grab a new toothbrush from under the sink, forgetting that my ass was full on display for him to see. I gave him the brush and said good night. 

"Goodnight," he said back in a nicer tone. 

Next part: Part 2: Of claws and heart

[darlingofvalyria]

❝Call me that again and I'm sniping Cregan Jr.❞

part 04 | oh honey, you can do better than that

chapter summary:

[ How does Aemond Targaryen actually feel about you? Ft. Post Sex Limited Hot Water Shower, Totally, Definitely Not Phone Sex, and Jealousy, My Old Friend and His Pal, Misunderstanding. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 4,981 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— gets fabulously smutty, fluff, angsty, sort of hurt/comfort - nsfw: creampie, rough sex, (f) masturbation - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— this became way longer than initial thought sjdhsjhds, so the scene that was supposed to end it on wil lhappen next chapter shdjsh + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You know when in books, they tell you that when you kiss someone, the world explodes in colour and feeling, in metaphors and fireworks? They forgo the physical description almost, to focus on how it feels to kiss someone.

How sometimes, when you kiss someone, you float through five different memories— three of does you don't actually have, but you know, metaphors, memories you can remember in feeling, your body astral projecting to other lifetimes because a kiss is just that good?

Kissing Aemond Targaryen is the opposite. Kissing him grounds you.

You can't think in colour or firework, only the feeling of his soft lips hum against your mouth, how your tongue drags a seam over his bottom lip and he groans, and his hands are on you, on your back, on the back of your head, devouring you in a feverish haze of soft, insistent— borderline desperate — kissing.

You get lost in him, how he tastes, how he feels, how he kisses.

Like, like— how his thumb, over the nape of your neck to press you close, holding you there, pressing on a sensitive skin behind your ear that makes you tickle, that makes a breathless giggle slip past your lips, and he chases the sound with his mouth. He is possessive in his hold, moving you so he can kiss you better, deeper.

Here comes the metaphor— but Aemond kisses like a conqueror, and you're weak and willing, falling into his chest, gripping his really, really nice button up shirt, trying not to sigh too loud or gods forbid moan, because in the back of your mind, you know you're in public.

But when Aemond kisses to conquer, the world mutes. He takes your senses as much as he is trying to de-virginise your mouth, regardless if it wasn't a virgin in the first place. Aemond kisses like he is devouring not just you and your mouth, but any remnant of everyone else.

Someone— the bartender — coughs and you pull away, breathing heavily. You don't open your eyes because you're embarrassed and disoriented, but you feel another kiss, not on your lips but on your top cheek, just below your eye. It's chaste. Sweet. It curls your insides and edges and you kinda wanna let him conquer you again.

"Ñuha riña," he murmurs against your skin. He tugs your head back, that thumb on the back of your ear, the other hand, curled over your hip, squeezing you lightly, and you finally open your eyes. Complication and lust wars in his gaze, but when your eyes drop to his swollen lips, you bit your own as you try not to sigh in want.

 You are Helaena's best friend, you think, still staring at how red and juicy his lips had gotten, Father Have Mercy I Am Only A Woman My Vagina Is Throbbing Help. You cannot think that her baby brother's lips are sinful. It is disgraceful. Or how much you want to kiss him again. How much you want to feel his groan reverberate against your skin until it reaches your bones. Your marrow.

You paste a smile, and though your words are honest, you keep your deeper feelings to yourself. Caged and unwelcome, especially when his eyes look away. Look back at where you know Alys had just bore witness to the very obvious declaration.

Though it was brief, it grounds you harder than any kiss Aemond Targaryen could impart against your own.

He did this for her. Like an actor on a play. There's an audience and a fellow actor. This is nothing more than a scene to him.

As it should to you.

Didn't you kiss him?

Suddenly you wanted to be anywhere but near him. You step away but also don't want him to worry— there's nothing to worry about, right? — taking his hands and giving them a squeeze. He turns, and the lust is gone replaced with a softer look. You let your smile stretch before it dips in suspicion.

Aemond is sharp when he's using his brains. When his emotions cloud him— anger, lust, All The Feelings Reserved for Alys His First Love — his brain cells abandon ship except for two. They join hands and start gyrating.

He calls your name. Your smile stretches further but it can't reach your eyes so you look away, laughing brightly. Fakely.

"You kiss good. 10/10. But I'm not eating here after that." You flag the bartender and pull out crumpled tens before he could protest. "I'm ordering takeout and watching Angela Lansbury figure out more murders."

The way he says your name again lingers, trying to tug at your strings. A plead. He holds you steady with one elbow, and you hate it. You hate it because he can sense your turmoil when you didn't want it to be shown. Because kissing him didn't mean anything, and you were supposed to be more than happy helping him.

And you are.

Right?

Bitter thoughts have a tendency to pitch, and when you start wondering, comparing, if this is how he pleads with Alys— a gentle touch, a crisp, wandering look in your face trying to decipher what his next moves should be, how he should step, what he should say — you take a step back emotionally and physically.

You can't do this to him, but he can't do this to you too.

His hand is between you before your expression makes it curl into a fist.

"Okay," he says. "Okay. I'm sorry, riña."

You don't admonish him of his shit, instead you wink. You fake it. You keep trying because if you let your hurt be blatant between the two of you (why, why would it hurt?) (because you're being used & despite previous claims, it's fucking shit to be used???) it'll then be something to address. An elephant in the room.

For now, you shove the fucking elephant in the corner.

"This way, she can think we got so hot for each other that we just had to skip dinner." You try for a smile again and you win because you feel yourself calm down. "It'll be great, you'll see."

Kissing him is a dangerous endeavour. It's good (earth-shattering, would sell your soul 20/10), but no more kissing Aemond.

(As things that are meant to be set as rules go, this too, you will break).

What does a girl gotta do to ground herself when she's thrown off axis, spinning and spinning into cold, empty space?

You get fucked.

"F-fuck!" comes out of your mouth as you throw your head back, unable to do anything but spasm in your locked position; Cregan has your arms back against your body, his hips slamming against your ass, feeling his stones, his thick cock bullying that spot inside of you that has you creaming against him, your orgasm grabbing hold of your throat as you think and colour and profanity but it all comes out a garbled mess of moan and gasp.

And you don't just get fucked— you get fucked hard. Fucked with a capital F and an O.

Cregan grunts, barks his own profanity behind you as the overstimulation gets you whimpering, chasing his own high until his hips stutter and his warmth, thick and silky, spurts in ropes and lakes inside your battered womb. (Thank fuck for IUD because you're pretty sure his swimmers are of Excellent Top Notch Quality with how vicious he cums). He presses you 'till the hilt, releasing your arms to press a tight palm against your torso to keep you there as you grow lax and warm against him, occasionally twitching.

Thick, dollops of your shared wetness drop from between you as you both catch your breaths.

(Again, thank the gods for modern medicine).

"So..." With his chest pressed against your back, legs too wobbly to stand on your own, you mimic the same pattern of his breathing. Sharp inhales and braying exhales move in one for a minute or two, both of you trying to grasp thought.

"So?"

"Wanna talk about your problems now, babygirl?" he purrs in your ear. You smack his ass and he laughs, letting the voice drop.

"Call me that again and I'm sniping Cregan Jr."

A dramatic gasp of horror escapes him. "Sweets!" He slaps your shoulder. You yelp. "Don't say that when I'm still inside you!"

"Bitch, then get out!"

He smacks a wet kiss on top of your head, laughing with your own breathless laughter. "Alright, alright. Lemme just... Shit." You both wince at the feel of him leaving your abused cunt, your leg kicking in a twitch. "I think I came too much, you okay?"

There's real concern in his dark, dark eyes, and the pitch of his tone is serious. A real question that required an answer.

"Green as Broccoli, baby." You sigh, holding the wall in front of you to keep you steady. "Fuck, if you get me pregnant, I'm actually going to snipe Cregan Jr."

He holds Cregan Jr with a wounded look. "Cregan Jr help make Cregan the Third. You can't do that to family."

You blink at each other.

"Dude," you finally say. "Either my pussy just fucked you stupid or you're roundabout implying incest, and I am going to hurl."

After a quick cleanup, a shower that's less sexy and more trying to hog the hot water because for some reason Cregan's shower only has a limited amount ("Why the fuck is your apartment like this?" "It's a cheap place! Also, I'm the only one in it! Stop distracting me and share the shower, woman, damnit!"), and once both of you are dressed, dinner in the form of a takeaway, and Scream 2 playing on his TV— you drop your problems.

That's what you like about Cregan, recently as you found out. Things you may be... a little more hesitant to tell Helaena— because you know, this concerns her baby brother that she's protective about, that she asked for your help about — and Cregan is like a stranger peering into your life.

Apart from the good sex, there's not a lot that Cregan actually knows about you from now. Neither of you linger, truly, on the deep stuff. Sure you hang out, and you enjoy spending time with him, but— everything else, knowing you in the frayed edges, he doesn't hover. You don't either. And both of you are more than happy with the arrangement. It also puts unloading all this Aemond/Alys drama on him in a positive spin, as it actually lifts off the weird heaviness on your shoulder.

He whistles, patting the face mask you put on his face. "Babe, gotta say, I think you may like the guy past face value."

You groan. "That's not a good answer."

"You didn't deny it."

"Because there's nothing to deny, there's nothing to pursue. There's nothing there period."

He arches a thick eyebrow. "Now you're overcompensating with the denial. That was three different denials."

You nibble at your lip, giving a shrug. "It's how it all set up, you know? Like. Okay, sure did I think he was pretty cute? Yeah. But I'm Helaena's best friend first and foremost. My relationship with her precedes anything else."

"Even me?"

"Yes." You snort. "If she told me to drop you, I'd throw you."

Cregan's mouth falls open. "That is so vicious." You blow him a kiss, he bumps his shoulder with yours. "Is it just Helaena that stopped you from pursuing anything with him?"

 "... Mostly. He was also younger. He was in high school when I met Hel."

He snorts. "From what you told me, he enjoys his ladies a little older. But you know, I know Hel. And if you think about it, you're both two people she loves, why won't she be excited at the prospect of two people she loves falling in love? Anyway, what Hel thinks isn't the biggest question of the math problem, sweets."

"What is?"

"How does Aemond feel about you?"

How he feels about you could be explicitly hinted by the messages and calls that followed. You got busy at the bar, new hires needed to be trained, and Aemond got busy with his University obligations, so 'Everything After' came in bursts when it could.

AEMY: I'm so sorry about blindsiding you that day. We were having a great day, you were helping me process my relationship with Alys, and I ruined it. I would understand if you didn't want to do this anymore. I am so sorry, ñuha riña.

YOU: aemy..., it is literally 230am

AEMY: I am so sorry.

YOU: go to sleep. i forgive you

AEMY: You do? I don't want you to think that you have to. You're allowed to be mad at me.

YOU: you sent this at 2 in the morning and i know how much you care about your sleep. u hate fucking up ur sleeping schedule. i know its eating you alive. u know what u did wrong and i care about u enough to forgive u.

YOU: now go sleep, aemy. love u sleep well. we're ok

AEMY: Thank you. I won't do that again, without your input. Good night, sweetheart.

AEMY: 💗

YOU: did u just use my fave heart omg

AEMY: I'm grovelling. Least I can do. Good night, riña 💗

YOU: gnight aemy💗💗💗

The next morning, having slept for five hours since you got home after your shift, you trudge to the kitchen only to a pull stop at Helaena eating a cereal, smugly, while a bouquet of tulips about twenty or so, sits on the counter beside her.

"Holy shit, these are pretty." You finger a pink petal from the collection pink, orange and white tulips. "Which admirer of yours got this for you and would you say he has a hot brother?"

Hel snorts. "That's not for me, dummy. But I do have a pretty good brother who many has said is very pretty and b, an ace boyfriend. When he's not being stupid that is."

"What?" You pluck the card and felt yourself giggle rather than actually make the conscious choice of laughing giddily at an unexpected, pretty present. A smile breaking out from your face, as Helaena observes you over her bowl.

For the lady. Aemy.

"Shit. Your brother really doesn't do apologies half-assed, huh?"

"Apparently not." She places the bowl on the sink, giving you a long, smug look until you look up at her and feel your heart in your throat at the gleam in her blue eyes. "Wanna tell me something?"

"Dunno," you say airily, trying to inhale the floral fumes from farther away than necessary so it isn't so obvious you're totally fucking enamoured with them. Sure they're just flowers. But something about waking up to an unexpected bouquet of the prettiest bunch is sometimes all a girl needs to have a great day. "What do you wanna know?"

"This is a need to know basis, alright?"

"Alright." You hold the bouquet to your chest, unable to stand it any longer, pressing your nose against the fresh, sweet scent as a shield against your best friend's line of inquiry.

"Have you and my brother done the tango?"

"No! Hel, come on! I wouldn't do that to you. Also! That is not part of the plan! I told you I'm not going to fuck the sad out of your brother."

She raises an eyebrow, fighting off a grin in a weird way as she plucks out her bag and starts leaving. "You and 'Aemy' are both adults. I, as her personally also adult big sister, doesn't give a shit."

"Is that permission, are you giving me permission to fuck the sad out of your brother, Helaena Targaryen you sick shit?"

Helaena's cackle leaves much to be desired, and you're much more confused about things.

Gratefully, you have a beautiful bunch of tulips to sweetly assuage you for the time being.

"Your sister's so weird," you say in the next call you have with him. You're on grocery duty for the month, aimlessly roaming around the aisles whilst he's on the go somewhere in school.

"That's your best friend, mind you," he teases.

"I know, I chose her knowing what she's like." You sigh dramatically, picking up most of the cleaning supplies you and Hel need at the apartment. You enjoyed your weekly routines of deep-cleaning, while Helaena, though not a slob, never enjoyed it when she has her little bugs and critters in the room and you would go all military sergeant at her for the waste that some of the bugs need for nutrition.

"What did she do this time?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

 He laughs lightly and you smile at the sound. "Try me, ñuha riña."

He's on a busy street, the backdrop distinct, so he had pulled his mouth close to the phone. The breathless laugh he emitted, alongside the deep vowel-drawl he spoke his usual endearment shot bolts and shivers across your body.

Stupid Helaena and stupid promissory-approved sad fuckings.

"She said, we're both adults."

"I am aware. You're a very well established adult apart from your manic obsessions with oil diffusers and buying my dog so many treats."

"Shut up, they're not for you, they're for my baby Vhagar. And one, you're just jealous you can't pull out a drawer in your house and offer, 'Oh, kind guest sir, what scent you wanna vibe with today?'"

Another laughter bubbles out of him and you're full on grinning by the aisle with rolls of massive tissues around you. You pick a pack and place it on your cart before continuing.

"Anyway, yeah so she said we're both adults, and we're more than okay doing the adult tango." You snort. "Can you believe— Aemond? Hello? Are you okay?" There's a sound of things falling on concrete, an oof and a swear. "If you got hit by a car just as I'm on the phone with you and I'm the last person on your call history when you die and your mother finds out, I am actually going to debone you."

He's laughing against the phone, a pained sound that is honest and full. "Sorry, sorry, I just tripped a-and my laptop fell—"

"—Dude, oh my god?? Wait, why am I concerned, you can probably buy one right at this moment."

"You—" he butts between laughter. "—you're not making it easy to stand up."

You snort. "Well, damn, Aemy, standup. You can worship me someplace softer than concrete." You blink. The silence stretches as you turn redder. "You know what I mean."

". . .I do," he says softly. "I'm upright now. And I already do, you know."

"What?"

"Worship the ground you walk on."

"Oh, well. Helaena's only kidding, I'm sure, with the permission thing," you say lamely.

He hums. "Sure. But those are two separate things."

The rest of the days follow something like that. Both of you get swallowed up by obligations and time presses on like a soldier, but you make time when it presents itself; and it's easy. Almost like he had always been part of your life like this, engaged in the niches, as if he had always just... existed like this.

The orbit is slow but it is patient. It beams and lazily moves.

YOU: EMERGENCY

He calls, voice panicked. "What? What happened? Are you okay?"

"Whoa, calm down, cowboy, it's not an emergency like that," you say, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder, a book open between your hands. "Also seems really weird to text you 'Emergency' if I need something urgently. I mean 111 is easy enough to dial."

He sighs, languid and long suffering. You snort. "I would still like to know if you need me in anyway. Even if you don't."

The sincerity burns and lodges itself deep in your throat. You try for a joke. "Okay, boyfie. Noted. I just wanted to ask about a High Valyrian word. Well two words but I already know the other. I'm at the bookstore trying to find good romance books and I came across this endearment and there's no glossary."

"Oh?" A piqued interest is so obvious in his voice that it makes you laugh. "What?"

"Nothing. Nerd. Alright, it's this— ñuha zaldrīzes. I know ñuha means my because it's my favourite nickname given by my favourite person."

A cocky muse goes out of his mouth unfiltered, "You're favourite person, hm?"

"I came for answers, you sad sack of simp, not judgement. You know what, scratch that, I'm calling Aegon." You're only joking, not even going to remove the phone lodged in your neck, but he panics easily.

 "Don't call Aegon. I'm smarter than him."

"Aww, Aemy, are you scared of your big, bad brother?"

He snorts. "Iksan daor zūgagon hen bona doru-borto nuspes. I am not scared of that stupid cow."

Now, you've heard Aemond speak in High Valyrian in increments— his endearment for you the one you know the most — but not in full sentences. But to hear his harsh 'r's, the smooth 'z's and 's' does something to you. You have to remind yourself that you're not just in public, your mouth is also too fucking close to the receiver.

You manage to bat the moan with a barely trembled win.

You don't, however, manage to stop the little squeak in your voice. That surprise little sound that Aemond catches immediately.

He hums, a delightedly dark roll of his throat (how the fuck does someone make that attractive?). There's a certain purr that tilts his voice and whatever the fuck he's saying next, and you barely grasp at thought, much less the intelligence required to make sense of foreign words to you, when he says—

"Gaomagon ao hae skori nyke ȳdragon naejot ao isse Valyrio Eglie, dārilaros? Do you like when I speak to you in High Valyrian, princess?"

You don't know what you say next.

You know they're not words.

If one could truly make sense of what sound you made, it could be called a 'strangled whine totally inappropriate to make in a bookstore and thank god you're the only one in the aisle because holy fuck. Holy fuck'.

And you've never heard Aemond make a laugh so meanly as he does in reply to your strangled— choked— whine, the absolute prat.

"Oh, you absolute whore," you choke out, clearing your throat. "You can't do that, that's illegal. I don't even know what you said!"

"Do you want me to translate?" he teases, and his tone is light again, but there's that tinged. A reminder. A hook. If you want to play more. If it could lead to new things.

You parry instead. "I bet you say that to all the ladies."

"Lady," he reminds. "And Alys... never really responded much. She just asked me to translate."

"Educational purposes, huh?"

He hums in agreement before his voice pitches that way again. A darkened edge to the usual teasing. "But I've always wanted to try it in the bedroom."

If lightning felt like this— a shock shot on the back of your neck, then a bloom of warmth that reaches the tips of your fingers, your hair — then someone call 111 because you just became a statistic.

"Sure," you manage to squeak, trying to shake your head as you pile your arms with books that have Valyrian lords, princes— and ooh, dragonlords, how fantasy — and hoping the sexy scenes have them speaking in the language. "You'll definitely get a woman wanting, Aemy."

He laughs. "Is that jealousy, ñuha riña?"

"No." It really isn't at first, when you said the comment, you just threw it out there. But now the scene is in your head— Aemond whispering filthy things in the language of his ancestors, those hard consonants, that smooth, silky drawl, while he pounds into them — gets you brisk, a flare of anger, and you kinda wanna die because who are you to feel jealous? But the 'No' is brusque, a quick, hard sound, that Aemond catches it like fodder and chuckles.

Fuck, why does he have to laugh so nicely? Why does the mean edge so fucking sexy?

Is this phone sex? This isn't phone sex, you think, bleary and out of your mind, in a hot, hot space and you can't stop yourself. You can end the call and shut it all out, come back when you're a little more levelheaded, but you can't.

"Nyke kivio naejot mērī ȳdragon naejot ao hae bisa, dārilaros, I promise to only speak to you like this, princess." he says against your silence.

"There's that word again. The last one. What is it?"

"Dragon."

You frown. "Dragon?"

"The word you asked about the first time, you've forgotten about it and I never technically answered."

"And you're never telling me this one? You called me a dumbass, didn't you?"

"I most certainly did not. I'll tell you when I meet you soon, I have to go. Geros ilas, dārilaros. Goodbye, princess," he purrs the last part extra saucily just for your poor, poor ears to redden. For your heart to stutter. "Pendagon yno hae nyke va moriot hen ao. Think of me as I always of you."

"You can't do that, Aemy," you say, breathless.

"Do you hate it?"

You close your eyes. "No."

He repeats the word you ask about, one last time before the phone ends.

You still don't know what it means, and that night with your new books, your hand between your thighs and sweat on your skin, you finally find out.

Princess.

Apart from that day, the next few go on as usual. You both are still too busy to see each other, but you keep up with the contact. It's nice. Comfortable even when you're not in that weird, electric moments that spasms the tension. Neither of you really, truly push the boundaries, but you're always tethering at the edges.

A tug, a push and pull, but no one truly shoves.

It's exhausting but neither of you stop

In between, there are odd, utterly smug looks from Helaena that you push away. You see Cregan less, often times it is him seeking you out. Sometimes you go, sometimes you don't. Sometimes, there are pleasures only your imagination could give but want for more. To be actually realised. But you've never done roleplaying with Cregan, and it feels wrong to be intimate with somebody when another person's face and body fills your head, whispering words only he could say that would have you shuddering into an orgasm to replicate with your own fingers.

The world moves. It breathes, and you exhale with it.

Until three days before the weekend and you receive a text.      

AEMY: Family lunch on Sunday. Would you like to go as my date?

YOU: im hel's date already

He calls.

"Helaena is still at work and mom just sent the message at the family group chat two minutes ago. She hasn't even viewed the message. How are you already her date?"

You laugh, topping off your lipstick smudge with a pinky on the edge. "Well hello to you too, what a fine evening we're having."

"Good evening, you can't be Helaena's date. I asked you first. I am asking you first."

"One, you're not actually asking me, at least, not again, and two, it's a best friend thing. A prerequisite thing."

"Well. I'm asking beyond the prerequisite. Will you please go to Sunday dinner with my family with me?"

"Okay." You laugh together at how fast you agree. "Wouldn't it be weird?"

"We're fake dating, love, it's all part of the plan, right? I've brought Alys to family dinners before, this is just one of those."

And it jolts you when you know it shouldn't. He says it playfully, all part of the fun. You don't know why you're so disappointed, well you do, but it isn't like you had any, actual right to be.

And love. You know Aemond calls Alys that when they dated.

And it irks you, you don't know why, and suddenly, you just don't want to be in this call. You close off your lipstick, pursing your lips. He calls your name when you don't reply too fast.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, just... are you sure we should be telling your family we're dating?"

"Why not? You already come for every Sunday dinner, you're just coming with me instead of Hel," he says. "It will be just like any other Sunday."

Something about that pisses you off and saddens you at the same time.

"Sure," you say brightly, fakely. "Gotta go though, I'm meeting up with someone, text me the details, okay?"

"Meeting up?"

You can't help it, the astonishment in his tongue irks. "I have more friends than you and Hel, Aemy, I'm not a recluse."

"I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry."

You control your exhale. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, that was mean. Yeah. Cregan Stark, I think I told you about him from before?"

"You're still meeting him?"

"You know about that?"

"Hel said something. I didn't know you were still meeting him."

"Well... I'm not a virgin, Aemy, and it's not like we're real, remember?"

"Right." His agreement is sharp. Halting. "Have fun then."

Before you reply, the call ends.

"Well. Okay. Dick." You shrug. Aemond has a temper, that's nothing new. But it's not like you're doing something wrong, and you're still at that weird, heated headspace that put your thoughts in a whirlwind of a turmoil, so you can't try and fix this with him right now.

Plus, Cregan was offering a good dick without complications. Who are you to say no?

CREGAN: ill pick u up babygirl dw💜😍😘

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantasyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin

[olsenmyolsen]

softly dusting crumbs from their cheeks when eating

R doing that to Kate after Kate's demolished the plate of cookies that R baked for her.

Chocolate Chip Cookies!

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

Post: Hawkeye / The Marvels (Female Reader X Kate Bishop)

Summary: You and Kate talk while baking.

Word Count: 1.4K

Content: Fluff, Comfort, Feelings

Being the only one on the new team to use the kitchen properly had pros and cons.

Pro: You could make whatever you wanted.

Con: You had to do the dishes after you made your fabulous meals and desserts.

Pro: It made everyone like and appreciate you more!

Con: People then loved to "subtly" drop hints about what they wanted you to make.

Regardless, you still loved to bake and be one with the kitchen, as America Chavez loved to point out!

"Whatcha making?" Kamala asked as she wandered through the kitchen in her pajamas without even looking up from her phone. You glanced up at the sound of her voice before looking at the clock on the microwave, confused. It was 4:13 pm.

Had she crashed at the YA Building??

You tilted your head and continued placing chocolate chip cookie dough balls onto a tray as the oven preheated. "Kamala, did you go to class today?" You asked, knowing how much being the hero of New Jersey affected Kamala's college studies. "Dude, it's Saturday," Kamala said without lifting her eyes from her phone.

You couldn't tell if she was playing a game or texting Bruno about how she needed him to hack into something or other. Either way, you shook your head. "Kamala, it's Friday." You knew precisely what day it was because... Oh man, what was the saying in Germany?

It's Strawberry Week.

Kamla lifted her head. "What?!" She said, eyeing you before looking at her phone. Her mouth dropped open as she scrambled up off the couch. "Oh my god!" She yelled. "I have a paper to turn in!"

And just like that, Kamala was gone.

"Okay." You said to yourself as you removed your gloves and threw them away before moving some dirty dishes into the sink to wash later.

"Oh, cool cookie dough!" The voice of your friend America startled you and made you jump. "Oh fuck!" You yelled as you caught your breath and swung around to view America with her eyes above the remaining cookie dough.

"Can I have?" She only used those three words to ask. You shook your head. "No, America, you'll get sick!" You replied, knowing how America loves to eat.

Dimensional jumping was tiring and made her a bottomless pit.

"Oh, come on, just one lick of the spoon?!" Your friend whined as she followed you to the sink with the bowl of the leftover cookie dough. You sighed. The younger woman would just pester you anyway. "Fine. Just one." You gave her the spoon, and before you could say anything else, she opened a portal and was gone.

You could hear a pin drop.

"That was my favorite wooden spoon..." You whispered as you were now alone in the kitchen. Luckily, the oven had your back and broke you out of your solemn thoughts by beeping to let you know it was now fully heated for cookies. Slowly, you walked over to the tray of cookies and popped them into the oven.

"Okay, we'll check them in about 12 minutes." You said as you spoke to yourself after setting an alarm on your phone and then opening Spotify. Being left alone with your thoughts for too long was hazardous, so why not listen to your favorites while washing some dishes?

About halfway through singing and swaying to a certain pop star's lyrics, you heard the sounds of a golden retriever. You looked up and over in surprise to see Lucky as he barreled towards you. "Pizza Dog!" You shouted with glee as you threw off the soapy gloves and bent down to get kissed attack by the canine after stopping your music.

However, as much as you loved Lucky, you would have to say his owner tops that.

She could top you, too, but that would require being vocal and honest about your crush on Kate Bishop.

So you'll settle for dog kisses.

"Pizza Dog!" Kate exclaimed as she ran into the kitchen from around the corner, dropping her bow and quiver of arrows in the hallway. "Kate, he's fine!" You reassure your friend and fellow teammate as she runs to where you and her pet are on the hardwood floor.

She squats beside you and laughs as Lucky doesn't stop showing you how happy he is to see you.

"Dman, I don't even think I get this much love." You laugh at Kate's claim. "Please, I think he smells the cookie dough on me." Kate makes an "ah" sound and rises up to look at the pile of dishes you were working on. You follow her up.

"Where's your cookie spoon?" Kate asks after seeing it missing. You sighed. "With America. She did her portal thing, so who knows where she and the spoon are." Kate nodded her head and did her best not to let the smile creep on her face.

But she failed as she looked at you.

You and Kate both knew getting sad over a wooden spoon was silly, but seeing how glum you were about it made Kate want to laugh.

Coming from a good place, of course.

"Well, do you need any help?" Kate asked as she went to wash her hands. You shook your head. "No. I got it taken care of." You lifted up your phone. "Thank you, though." You smiled at Kate and averted your eyes before you were caught staring at her striking beauty.

Thank goodness she didn't have any bandages on her face.

Those made you borderline feral.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to be a taste tester," Kate said, bumping shoulders with you after looking you up and down. You started washing your hands and laughed with a slight blush on your cheeks. "Fine by me."

Any reason to be with Kate was good enough for you.

"So, what was your latest mission?" You asked as Pizza Dog went off into another room, and Kate sat at the kitchen bar. Kate looked over your face and smiled as she thought about it. "Stakeout. I was watching some wannabe mafia group. It was boring. I spent most of my time doodling."

"Oh, I have to see those pieces of art!" You said it as a joke, but deep down, you were dead serious. Kate laughed and made a note to show you sometime in the future while she started to play with her fingers. Kate tried to play it cool, but being around you made her nervous. Not because you were scary or anything but because Kate liked you.

Like really liked you!

"So, which cookies did you make today?" Kate said as you finished the dirty dishes and washed your hands. "Chocolate Chip." You replied with a smile back at the archer.

Chocolate Chips weren't Kate's favorite, yet she said: "My favorite!" and lifted her cheeks as you looked happy.

Over the course of the next few minutes, you and Kate talked about anything that came to your mind. Whether it was TikTok trends, gossip about the Old Avengers, or what to do with the upcoming holidays.

Whether you would go with Kate or not to the Barton's farm.

The answer was still in the air as silence surrounded you two until Kate broke it by looking you up and down as you glanced at your phone. "Hey..." Kate started after clearing her throat. You looked towards her. Kate took that as a sign to continue. "So I've been thinking..." Kate's voice wavered as she did her best to be brave. "And I don't know if this is dumb or if I maybe have read it wrong, but..."

You were fully engaged in whatever Kate had to say, but your 12-minute timer for the cookies went off, interrupting Kate. You gave Kate an apologetic smile, who nodded that it was okay as you turned to the oven and pulled out the tray of cookies with your bare hands.

It helped that one of your powers was no pain.

You looked the cookies over and ensured they were baked enough to cool down. When satisfied, you turned off the oven and went back to Kate.

"So you were saying?" You smiled and gave her your full attention. Kate blushed and opened her mouth.

Chocolate Chip cookies ended up being Kate's favorite after that day.

And you couldn't help but laugh at your girlfriend's face as you softly brushed her cheeks after she demolished the plate of cookies you made.

They were for everybody, but after that day, Kate got the first pick for everything.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

New Writing!

Ginny Weasley character study written for @ladiesofhpfest Character Chic. I'm really pleased with this one!

Body positivity is a social movement that promotes a positive view of all bodies, regardless of size, shape, skin tone, gender, and physical abilities. Proponents focus on the appreciation of the functionality and health of the human body instead of its physiological appearance. Eight lessons that Ginny Weasley learns about her body, and her changing relationship with it, throughout her life.

HUGE thanks go to two wonderful writers for their help:

Firstly @fizzyginfizz who beta read this for me and was so supportive and had so many brilliant suggestions, really building my confidence in this piece - thank you for everything!

Secondly, to @whinlatter, who has written several fantastic Ginny metas that I found super helpful when I was thinking through how to approach this piece.

They both have fabulous Ginny-POV WIPs, (Quidditch is for Losers and Beasts respectively), which you should go and read NOW if you haven’t done so already!

Rated M for language, mature themes and discussion/depiction of sex

9k words

Snippet below the cut

The Weasley family, as was apparent to anyone who cared to notice, came in two very different varieties

Some of them were really-Weasleys, like their Dad - tall, lanky, all hands and feet. Bill was a really-Weasley, as were Percy and Ron. The others were really-Prewetts, like their Mum. Charlie and the twins were really-Prewetts. Really-Prewetts were shorter and stockier, and just generally much more compact, as though the same amount of person was somehow compressed into a much smaller body.

Ginny didn’t really give much thought to the distinction between really-Weasleys and really-Prewetts when she was a child. Obviously she knew that some of her brothers were tall and thin, and some of them were… not. Equally obviously, she knew that her Mum was also… not. So yes, she knew - of course she knew. It’s just that she never really considered it in relation to her . Though to be fair, Ginny was very much on the small side, even before it became clear which side of the family she would take after, so perhaps the signs were there had she cared to notice.

Eleven year old Ginny was, quite frankly, absolutely tiny, just a little dot of a thing really. She felt so small and so intimidated as she huddled in the corner of her train carriage on her way to school for the very first time. Ron had promised to look after her on the journey, but he wasn’t there, and neither was Harry (lovely, lovely Harry), and Ginny didn’t know why. Instead, she made herself even smaller (which wasn’t hard, cocooned as she was in her hand-me-down robes, so large she could have used them as a tent), hoping that no one would notice her as she scribbled messages in her diary to her new friend Tom. She told him how tiny she felt, lonely and afraid and scared by this new world around her. Everyone else seemed so big and so confident, swishing their wands with abandon. Ginny already felt anything but; overlooked and overwhelmed, shrinking further by the second. 

Continue reading on AO3

[chlorinecake]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Restless Nights w Enhypen ! ⩇⩇:⩇⩇

༯ pairing: bf!enha x snoring s/o ☁️

༯ warnings: cavity inducing fluff, language, a lil crack

༯ wc: less than 200 words for each member

니키 | Niki - Once you and Niki started sleeping in the same bed together, it was game over for you about three nights in when he ~discovered~ your snoring habit. The menace in him couldn’t help but record your noisy fits, just in case he ever ran out of things to tease you for 🤭 He even nicknamed you “piglet” the next day 😭 You’d feel a lil insecure about it (at first) until asking him what he meant by it, and he’d simply show you the video, holding back his laugh… He’d use his height advantage against you as you desperately tried reaching for his phone to delete the video 🤧🤧 “NIKI IF YOU DON’T DELETE THAT SHIT, I’M NEVER SLEEPING WITH YOU AGAIN!!” He’d drop his arm immediately, handing you the phone. “I’m sorry,” he’d whisper, pulling you in for a hug.

정원 | Jungwon - Usually, Jungwon is a VERY LATE sleeper, so there are nights when he doesn’t mind your snoring as much. However, if he’s really tired and in need of some quality rest 😪, your snoring can be somewhat of a hinderance to him. So, he researched methods that might aid your noisy habit. Meditating or simply listening to calming music with you before bed soon developed into more than just an anti-snore scheme, but a part of your nightly routines 🥰🥰

“I’m so tired, Wonie, can we please just go to bed?”

“Right after we meditate first.”

“But why,” you pouted.

“It’ll help you sleep better, ____. Just give me 10 minutes, and afterwards, we can cuddle.” After that offer, you’d happily oblige, and sometimes, end up meditating in each others presence for even longer than planned.

선우 | Sunoo - Some nights, Sunoo finds your snoring cute, while other nights he finds it ANNOYING AS HELL 😩, so it really depends on his mood. One night, he was so fed up with it that he plugged your nose while you were sleeping, just to laugh his ass off when you wake up wheezing 💀 until you look at him like “😤” and he makes up every excuse 🪦

“Go back to sleep, honey, you probably just had a bad dream.”

“Sunoo.”

“Fine, the truth is, your snoring was annoying the hell out of me, so I tried to cheer myself up by letting the intrusive thoughts win. My apologies.”

“Sunoo.”

“Look, I promise I’ll never do it again, baby 🥺.”

“SUNOO!”

“What?” Those were his final words before you’d initiate a revenge tickle fight, tiring him out before you both fell back to sleep, snoring together this time 😴

성훈 | Sunghoon - Honestly, Sunghoon isn’t bothered by your snoring habit at all. He GETS his beauty sleep 💅✨💋, regardless of the earthquake occurring on your side of the bed 🥴 The only time he’ll tease you about it is if you snore ~excessively~ right after intimacy 🙈 He’d wake up the next morning and trace lazy shapes on the small of your back, admiring your EVERYTHING in the moment of silence before saying some cheeky shit like:

“Was it that good, baby?”

You’d wake up at the sound of his voice, groggy and confused.

“What’re you talking about, Sunghoon?”

“Last night, silly. You were snoring like a beast, so it must’ve been fabulous.” You could feel heat rush to your face, both out of embarrassment and affection ☺️☺️

제이크 | Jake - As you came to learn while dating him, Jake is a softie at heart 🥹🫀🍬 He finds your snoring habit SOOO endearing. Sometimes, he likes to think of the different animals your snores remind him of 😑, but his all time favorite snores are the kitten purrs you make while nuzzled against his chest, making his heart thud like a whole ass drum!!! He can’t wait to update you the next morning, telling you how cute you sounded/looked in your sleep 😌 He also DEFINITELY took a picture or two 👀

“Baby, guess what! It’s really important,” he’d say in his adorable Aussie accent, shaking you from your slumber…. at 5am 🫠

“Yeah, what is it Jakey?”

“You looked really pretty while you slept, and your snores sounded saur freaking cute, and I love you, and I also can’t wait to sleep next to you again TONIGHT, and-”

“HOW IS THAT IMPORTANT, JAKE?”

제이 | Jay - Jay absolutely can’t STAND your snoring! He’s pretty big on physical touch in a relationship, viewing cuddle sessions as a form of ~life support~ in most cases. Though, he simply has a very low tolerance for the noise you make, especially when he’s tired 🥱 The poor guy ends up sleeping on the couch during most of your snoring fits so he doesn’t wake up cranky or disturb you with his tossing and turning 😭😭 It’s honestly for the best 💝

“Jayyyy,” you call from your shared bedroom.

By now, he knew exactly what you wanted whenever you called his name like that.

He picked up his pillow and blanket from the couch, meeting you on the mattress.

“Cuddles?” You’d ask, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Always 😏”

희승 | Heeseung - Knowing Heeseung, he’d probably be snoring right on with ya. He’s a ~vocal~ man in his waking life and it’s not very different when he’s asleep either. His snores aren’t as loud as yours, but he sleeps like a baby through your noise anyways 😌 Heeseung believes snoring is an indicator that one is catching up on some well-needed and deserved rest, so he’ll likely NEVER complain about it 🫶🤗

Hugging you from behind, he’d pull you closer the second you tried to escape his hold.

“Heeseung, I need to pee,” you’d whine, squirming in his arms.

“What if I miss you while you’re gone?” He’d ask you, pouting.

“I’ll come back as soon as I finish, okay?”

“Ugh, okay,” he’d answer, only for you to come back two minutes later and find him smiling into your pillow, drifting back to sleep.

  zᶻ

૮˶- ﻌ -˶ა⌒) thanks for stopping by! make sure to check out my bookshelf for more fun reads! 🎂

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

Lokius Fic Recs

Less than 10K words, Season Two Edition

Admittedly, I am very behind reading all the fabulous fics that came out after season 2 so I’m sure I’ve missed some gems. Nonetheless, sharing a few of my favorite post-season two Lokius fics, less than 10K words.

See my less than 10K season one Lokius fic recs here. And Lokius multi-chapter fics here.

If you’re looking for…

Angst with a hopeful ending (aka post S2 reunions or near reunions)

Come back. even as a shadow, even as a dream. by harleygirl2648- Loki and Mobius, steal what moments they can together following the events of season two and eventually find a way to make it permanent.

time will pass, darling (but my feelings, they won’t) by burnthatbridge- Another! Loki and Mobius steal what moments they can together following the events of season two and eventually find a way to make it permanent. (Okay this one is just over 15K words).

Serendipitous by emilieee- Mobius dreams of all of the moments over the centuries that he had forgotten. Meanwhile, Loki tries to find his way back to Mobius.

auld lang syne by Mirilya- Mobius experiences the first New Year's Eve that he can remember… and finds something worth celebrating.

Purpose Shared by tishae- Loki hears Mobius across the timelines and finds his way back.

Dream of me by Tears_and_smiles- (explicit) Mobius falls asleep in his motel bed and disappears into his dreams to find Loki. When he gets there, they share a night of pleasure.

with, no withouts by dinosuns- Sylvie and Mobius deal with the aftermath of Loki’s decision and begin to make a plan to get him back. (I remain delusional/hopeful that this fic will be finished. Regardless, the first chapter is spectacular on its own).

Their Burden to Bear by PerpetualDaydream- listed as Sylkius but vague to ship whoever you like. Focused on Mobius and Sylvie finding Loki and deciding to save the multiverse together.

Tell Me Some Things Last by Tears_and_smiles- Sylvie and Mobius work through the aftermath of Loki’s decision. Lots of healing vibes (and Sylvie and Mobius friendship my BELOVED).

Angst with little comfort, but beautiful:

Off The Beaten Path by ChaosAndOrder- Mobius deals with the aftermath of Loki's choice and makes one of his own. No reunions here but a gorgeous character introspective with a hopeful ending.

After They Left by ebeatrice- told from an OC POV, a TVA agent reflects on how much quieter the TVA is now after they take over Mobius’ old desk.

Centuries by TheVulcanBobDylan- (explicit) Throughout the centuries, Loki seeks comfort in the arms of different Mobius variants.

I know what I want by beandogger- (explicit) During one of his timeslips, Loki shares one more moment with Mobius before facing his fate.

Season two finale canon divergent fix its:

Let Us In by DewdropReader- How it should have ended IMO. Loki is convinced that the only way to save everyone he loves is to carry the burden of the multiverse. Sylvie and Mobius aren’t willing to allow it. What if instead of sacrificing himself, Sylvie and Mobius were able to stop Loki and were able to convince him to let them help. (I’m a big believer in The Power of Friendship endings and will always crave them.)

Kissed You Atop The Ferris Wheel by kittyhazelnut- Loki accidentally freezes time. He and Mobius share (no spoilers) a ✨moment✨. The next time Loki timeslips, things are different.

Missing Scenes, Season Two:

Portraits of your fidelity by Aliencritters- After the events of episode S2, ep1, Mobius convinces a panicking Loki to calm down and take a much needed break.

remember me (for centuries) by bookinit- Loki and Mobius throughout his timeslips.

No Time to Rest by startingatmidnight- (explicit) After the events of S2, ep1, Loki and Mobius sleep together, literally and otherwise ;). (I am obsessed with Mobius’ characterization here. Snarky, manipulative yet deeply caring Mobius, my beloved)

once more to see you by thumbbird- canon divergent S2, ep5, a Don/TVA!Loki fic! Loki has lost TVA Mobius and is determined to make a life for himself with the only Mobius left—timeline Single Dad Don. But how long will Don remain ignorant of the strange circumstance that brought them together? Obsessed with this pairing!

Fluff:

Camellia by 19960821- Settled on the timeline with Mobius, Loki thinks about how far they've come while gardening.

The Veins and The Branches by Love_is_Green- Loki reflects on his and Mobius’ journey while listening to a thunderstorm.

Lokius Fluffuary by blackbirdofasgard- okay I technically haven’t read these ones yet but I adored blackbirdofasgard’s last Fluffuary fics so including their latest here too.

And that’s it for now! My to-read list is miles long so excited to dig in more to the fabulous post S2 fics.

Happy reading!

[niyabiblioteca]

ot13!svt reaction to you pulling their hair

————————————————————————

seungcheol- i don’t think he likes it tbh. seems like he’d prefer to pull yours himself if you’re into it but once you pull his all of a sudden his scalp is super sensitive and he starts to whine

jeonghan- bro cmon. bro has had luscious long hair SO many times in his life, you think its for nothing? surely he’s found more to get out of it other than looking fabulous. a subtle tug on them tresses and he’s acting like a bitch in heat, groaning with a lazy smile on his face.

joshua- i think his reaction depends on when and how hard you do it. say you’re making out and your hand just ends up in that fabulous mullet, then it’s tolerable. but if you guys are actually fucking and you pull his hair, oh baby prepare to have your shit beat UP.

jun- hes such a cat omg. i think he likes having his hair played with in general. no matter what you do to it he’ll lean into your hand to get as much from you as possible. regardless of your intentions for pulling his hair, he’ll always softly melt into the feeling.

hoshi- do it in bed and the fucker growls. yeah, growls. at you. may even roar. idk there’s not much else to say but uh yeah he likes it.

wonwoo- finds it funny tbh. he’s so used to being the one manhandling you that when you do something remotely aggressive to him it just seems adorable to him. he could be balls deep in you and will literally just giggle when you pull his hair after fixing his glasses that got fucked up from you doing so.

woozi- does NOT like it. he doesn’t care how long his hair gets he would greatly appreciate it if you treat it with care. you can massage his scalp at the most, but pull it and you are probably getting the silent treatment.

dk- he would turn into a sub immediately. you just get a good grip on that shit and pull his head down towards yours, GIRL. whimpering, moaning in a high pitch tone, calling you whatever pet name you want and treating you with whatever you desire, the whole shabang.

mingyu- challenges you. he’s a fucking giant, and could punish or throw you around so easily from doing it. but because he knows that’s what you expect, that’s what you want, he won’t give you that just yet. you can pull it attempting to assert some fake dominance and get a rise out of him and this motherfucker just says “harder”. you oblige, he says it again just to see the shock fall onto your face.

minghao- his scalp is so sensitive from all the dyeing that any pulling hurts so he probably wouldn’t be the biggest fan. that and i just think he values his hair a lot. he wouldn’t be mad but would kindly tell you to let go.

seungkwan- it also hurts him but he likes it. if he’s eating you out, he is doing it with vigor just to get you to tug on it in ecstasy. with that incentive in mind he always does his best when working his tongue on you, and pulling his hair just makes him feel so rewarded and makes him reward you as well.

vernon- he’d be shocked that you did it. its never even been brought up but out of nowhere you did it. discovers that he might like it but won’t say it. he’ll freeze and just HOPE you do it again sometime.

dino- LOVES IT, but would never admit it despite you knowing full and damn well. if he’s fucking you and you pull his hair, he will groan at the top of his lungs and just pause to try and stop himself from coming too fast. almost gets angry because he knows what you’re doing, but again he can’t say anything about it because he would never admit it.

————————————————————————

hiiiiiiiiiii

[halfmoth-halfman]

a designer dress from heaven and your dirty wedding ring - prologue

Pairing: Mob Boss!Price x F!Reader Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: none Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: it's finally here, the mob boss!price series! before we start, i want to give a special thanks to the fabulous @mvtthewmurdvck for letting me rant and rave about peaky blinders while i work on this series, to the amazing @valkyriesregalia and @bubble-dream-inc for reading and giving me feedback, and of course to @uselsshuman's discord girlies for hyping me up and giving me inspiration, i love you guys 💜!! || next

You’ve never been inside the famous club, The 141.

Your father had mentioned it to you a few times when you were a child; you remember the admiration— and jealousy— that laced his voice as he weaved tales of smoky backroom poker games and men who’d skin you alive for looking at them wrong.

You hadn’t believed him then, assuming it to be like all the other fairytales and war stories he told from that worn leather armchair— exaggerated tales meant to teach you lessons he himself never followed.

Now that you’re here, though…

You’d expected better security.

It’s almost laughable how easy it is to get inside. With no one at the front and the doors left unlocked, you waltz into a vision straight from your father’s imagination— all deep red velvet and hazy air carrying the scent of cigar smoke and danger.

It’s surprisingly modern with a vintage feel to it. You should’ve expected as much, but you still find yourself impressed. You weave through the round tables and plush chairs— elegantly decorated with brilliant red flower centerpieces sitting atop white silk tablecloths— making your way to the center of the spacious room.

You have the perfect view of the stage from here— directly in the center. It’s gorgeous: hardwood polished to perfection and bordered by thick, velvet curtains— even in the bright white of the blaring house lights, it’s a sight to behold.

“Um, you can’t be in here— we’re closed!”

The voice startles you, but you maintain your composure, turning slowly—non-threateningly— on your heels with a wide, unassuming smile. A long, half-circle bar stretches across the wall opposite the stage, just up a small set of stairs and past the various game tables, lined with golden railings. The wall behind it is completely covered in shelves of alcohol— some you’re well-acquainted with, some you recognize from your father’s private collection.

And there, gathered at the far right end of the black-quartz bar, are three men dressed in black, staring back at you.

“No one told me,” you smile, gesturing towards the front of the club, “and the doors were open.” The men groan to themselves, then mumble to each other. They glance back at you occasionally; you keep your polite smile taking in the rest of the club as they speak.

“Well,” one of the men— the American one behind the bar with a colorful sleeve tattoo and impressive facial hair— clears his throat. “We’re still closed regardless. One of the boys can see you out.”

The other two stand, the handsome one with light eyes and a brown mohawk making his way toward you.

“I have an interview-” all three pause, shooting glances at one another in silent conversation. You dig through the pockets of your denim jacket, pulling out the folded paper and holding it out to Mohawk. The room lapses into silence, so you add, “S’posed to meet with the owner about a singing gig?”

That takes the man behind the bar by surprise.

Mohawk takes the paper from you, unfolding it to read it over. His brows shoot up, eyes scanning the worn words. He turns, holding the page to the third man—the one with short, curly black hair and a scar on his left cheek— who takes it and skims over it. He glances between the paper and you, between you and the paper.

“I’ve got this,” he addresses the other two.

British, huh?

Not what you’d expected.

“This way,” he smiles at you, all charm and politeness as he folds the paper back up and leads you toward a section of booths tucked against the wall off the right side of the bar. You follow, smiling at Mohawk and Bartender as you go.

You slide in across from your interviewer, taking him in as he settles with his hands folded atop the table. He seems young, maybe a few years younger than yourself, with dark skin and kind, brown eyes.

But you can see the sharpness behind those kind eyes.

You know better than to trust a friendly gaze— your left shoulder aching at the reminder.

“Not gonna lie…I thought you’d be older,” you joke. He arches a brow, curiously narrowing his eyes. “You just seem a little young to own a club.”

“Ah, you caught me,” he laughs. “The owner’s my father, but I handle most of the staffing.”

“Oh! Well—” you extend your hand out to him, “—pleasure to meet you, Mr…?”

“Garrick, but you can just call me Kyle.” He shakes your hand, firm but not too strong—clearly practiced. You retract your hand, letting it fall into your lap. Kyle stares at you expectantly, and you give him your best smile.

It’s only a few seconds, but the silence is almost unbearably awkward.

“And you are?”

“Oh, shit. Right.” Heat floods your cheeks; you hope you haven’t fucked this up already.

“Canary.”

“Canary?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe you; you don’t blame him— you wouldn’t either.

“Yeah, like the bird.”

“I’m familiar.”

“It’s…it was an inside joke between my parents that they ended up liking a little too much,” you explain.

“That’s…sweet,” he smiles, a little less taunting now. “Is there a…last name too, Ms. Canary?”

“No,” you reply immediately, “just Canary.”

“Okay then, Ms. Canary-like-the-bird, do you…have a resumé?”

“Yes, I do.” You dig through your bag, pulling out your resumé and handing it to him. Kyle gives a hum of thanks, reading through it with those sharp eyes.

You hope it’ll do; it took you three whole hours to get it done last night.

“No references?” he asks, briefly glancing up at you.

Shit. You knew you forgot something.

“I…mostly worked solo,” you lie, “but I have a couple cards for people I’ve collaborated with.” You reach for your bag like you’re ready to dig through its contents. There are some cards in there; you’re prepared to give him those, but you’re not prepared to explain why a singer would’ve previously collaborated with a real estate agent and a tattoo parlor that’s been closed for years.

“That’s alright,” Kyle says.

Thank god.

“Have you worked in other clubs before?”

“Just one.”

He looks up, waiting for you to elaborate, but you stay silent, smiling back and adding a few bats of your lashes for good measure. He laughs, quiet and to himself, looking back at your resumé.

“I’ll have to run this by my dad—” He sets the paper down, eyes skimming over it once more, “—is there a number we can reach you at?”

“I don’t have a phone…not yet, anyway.”

Kyle looks up at you, surprise evident, but he masks it with impressive speed.

“Alright, Ms. Canary, one more question for you.” He leans back in the booth, arms crossed over his chest as he looks you over— taking in your appearance bit by bit and committing it to memory.

“What are you running from?”

“I— what?” The smile falters slightly, but you see his eyes dip down to your lips, and you know you’ve been caught.

“No last name, no references, no phone…”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“And we haven’t used these—” he holds up the flyer you’d brought with you, “—since I was a child.”

You drop the smile, hands slowly clenching into fists in your lap— your nails drag across the ripped denim of your jeans to dig into the meat of your palms.

“I’m not running, just…” you pause, searching your mind for the right words. ”Starting over.”

Kyle keeps his eyes trained on you, not moving a muscle. You can tell he wants more information.

If you weren’t so desperate…

“My ex was super shitty, and the divorce got real ugly—real fast,” you sigh. “In the end, I let him have whatever he wanted just for the chance to get out, and, as it turns out, he wanted everything. So…here I am.”

There’s a beat of silence before Kyle lets out a low whistle. “My condolences.”

You can’t help but laugh, a small weight easing off your shoulders.

“Well, the bad news is this flyer’s ancient, and we aren’t looking to hire entertainment at the moment. But the good news: we are in need of a cleaner.”

“You pay in cash?” you ask, noticing the twitch of the corner of his mouth as he bites back a smirk.

“We can keep it off the books, no problem. When can you start?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Perfect.”

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

What Inspires your blog?

A little backstory...

I have always been a movie buff, especially horror. I've watched Vincent in the past and pretty much have watched him all of my life and I've always liked him.

Well, it started when I got COVID and was quarantined in my bedroom, I decided to binge watch horror movies. I started with "House on Haunted Hill" and "Fall of the House of Usher". I was smitten. Not just by Vincent's acting, which is fabulous and unmatched - but his voice. The way he delivers his lines....sure, he is the king of camp, and his bisexual and often flamboyant mannerisms are top-notch and that's why I love him so much.

Not to mention, he's fucking gorgeous! Look at him!

I also fell down a rabbit hole - read his books, and his daughter's book - which solidified my love for him. And for his second wife, Mary. I adore her and I think she's absolutely beautiful and amazing!

He was very accepting of everyone, regardless of their gender, sexual preference, race, etc - which is why he was grey-listed and in turn, caused him to be a horror icon or as I say "bicon".

He's a wonderful human being and actor. Everyone has their problems and he may not have been perfect, but he is to me and I'm sure he is to others as well!

That is what inspired me to create this blog. To carry on his legacy and to spread the joy of Vincent Price to anyone who appreciates him as I do.

Hope that answers your questions. 🦇🦇🦇🖤🖤🖤🦇🦇🦇

[patcaps]

“the captain was out of character in the sketch, he was too silly etc etc whatever other nonsense”

- skipped around the grounds with kitty

- pretended to direct the film with adam

- did a full rendition of it’s a long way to tipperary

- was in his element playing kitty’s fairy godmother

- describes fashion as “chic” “now” and “fabulous”

- was determined as hell to win twister and was literally so happy when he got to claim victory

- danced at the wedding

- “there’s a hare! pom pom!”

- laid on the ground using his hands as binoculars

- wiggled his little tie at the “handsome men” line

- constant gay innuendo to which he is clueless

- knows all the words to modern major general and sang them at full volume followed by “lalalalala!”

- “i can see her posey! i can’t look”

- put his heart and soul into organising that wedding reception with the seating and the lights

- cut about with his jacket over his shoulder when he realised he could just take it easy because kitty taught him that and he’s allowed to grow and learn

he is and always has been capable of utter camp silliness and warmth, of expressing happiness, of being more loose and less serious - yes he has this inner conflict that he’s been unpacking and overcoming, but viewers are meant to root for him, to want him to be more open and less repressed and just have fun, not to expect him to stay stagnant like some sitcom characters do. ghosts has never been a comedy that doesn’t allow its characters to develop. get with it.

(and sure, there’s a general consensus around charity sketches like this that they exist outside of established canon, it’s just a bit of fun and it doesn’t really count, but cap was not ooc regardless.)

[sourlemonsprout]

𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔

Alphonse x Boo

word count: 378

a post?? from me?? crazy...

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Warmer weather was just around the corner, and you figured it was about time you went shopping for some new summer fits. Not much had been going on lately, and you were dying to get out of the house anyway. 

It was Alphonse's day off, so you called him up, and within the hour the both of you were off to an outlet mall not too far away from town. Al didn't go shopping much, he had some outfits that worked for him and that was good enough. Regardless, he loved going shopping with you. Not so much for shopping, it was more about spending the day with you. Perusing through various stores, pointing out ugly outfits for one another, mall food, all the fun stuff! 

You'd been scanning the selection of stores, mentally taking notes of which ones you wanted to stop in when you noticed the absence of your pink-haired pastel punk of a boyfriend. Every time the two of you are out, there's always a point where you lose him, but you'd been doing this for long enough now, so you knew if you tracked down the nearest stand of fun sunglasses, he'd be there. Sure enough, you were right. After poking your head into a few shops, you finally found your man standing in front of a little mirror, pursing his lips and checking himself out in a pair of bedazzled white cat-eye sunglasses with light pink tips. As you cover your mouth and giggle, he catches your eyes in the mirror. With a sassy spin, he turns on his heels to face you, tilting his head forward so that his blue eyes peak seductively over the edges of the sparkly frames.

"Whatcha think babe?" As you look at him, a sly smirk appears on his face, and a raised eyebrow that seems to suggest he has something planned. Suddenly, he starts putting on a fashion show with an air of confidence and an impressive sense of style, from orange creamsicle-colored flower frames to neon-green stars, and a pair of purple to red gradient fire-flame-frame glasses. Every single pair looks absolutely fabulous on him, and you wonder, with only a small hint of jealousy, how he's able to pull them off. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The End <3

[rockmiyabideusexmachina]

2024 Megaman Summer Fanart Contest - Category 1 Results!

Sorry for the delay, but without further ado, here come this year's wonderful creations and our winners. Thank you all for your patience! Due to both the number of entries and the amount of reference images I'll be attaching here, I will have to make a separate post for the humor (Cat. 2) results. Please check that out here as well, after I post this! All winners will be contacted shortly.

Take a walk through the newly opened wing of the Kattleox Art Museum to see all this year's fabulous entries after the break...

CATEGORY 1 (Talent): Pallette Pastiche

The talent category this year focused on creating a parody or imitation of a famous work of art by using Mega Man characters in the place of what was originally drawn. Didn't have to be a well-known famous piece, but still had to reference some piece of art, regardless. And you all certainly made both Ms. Museum Curator and myself proud! It was very hard to choose placement, let alone who would make the Top 3. Plenty of fantastic character choices to match the vibe of the original pieces. For the full gallery of pics, click here. Links to each individual full size image is after each entrant's name as well. 1.) @sylviidaee [Pic] (*175 USD Prize Winner!)

Sylviidaee's reference was Michelangelo's Renaissance piece, "The Creation of Adam."

The shading and detail in your painting efforts for this piece are remarkable! Flawlessly fitting in each Robot Master, along with Blues and Roll, to represent the angels, worked out great. This pic deserves to be a featured museum piece, with replicas hanging in the homes of every Megaman fan!

2.) @purplerubyred [Pic] (*$100 USD Prize Winner!)

Ruby's reference was the cover of the Capcom Design Works artbook, by Kinu Nishimura.

Just even attempting to replicate the sheer amount of characters in this piece had to be an enormous undertaking, and I commend you for spending part of your August month of Elec Man love crafting this! There is so much to take in with this piece, with all the various versions of Elec Man and his related family. From background locations like MaHa Ichiban to the super great white angel/devil chip artwork on the railcar window, there are tons of little cameos to catch as you look across this art. Wonderful job!

3.) @DWN-059 [Pic] (*$75 USD Prize Winner!)

Beebs' reference was Rococo artist Jean-Honoré Fragonard's "The Swing."

While the lush forested background draws my attention for it's whimsical beauty, and huge amount of detail, I loved the little touches you brought to make this have a Mega Man feel. Such as the Guts Man and Anko statues to replace the angels, and adding the cute 'lil Friender. While Planty can't kick off his boots, the Plant Barrier petals were a perfect replacement for the shoe. Beautifully and accurately painted! _____________________________

And the rest of our amazing entrants, in alphabetical order by alias:

ArtisIan [Pic]

ArtisIan's reference was Grant Wood's "American Gothic."

Nothing more 'gothic' than a guy obsessed with skulls, building dark, brooding, black-clad robots, owning a homely Skull Castle with tall walls and large windows, am I right? Bass with the daughter's glare is actually rather fitting here, as well! XD Now, if Wily always carried around that pitchfork, wouldn't he be able to defeat Mega Man a lot easier, on account of sharp points?

@aw-colorcat [Pic]

AW-Colorcat's reference was a piece by seafh that was used as a popular Youtube BG image back in the 2010s for the Nightcore (sped up version/remix) version of the song "Angel with a Shotgun."

The bullet holes through the single wing sure makes it look like Mega Man has gone *pew pew pew* through it. But I think an angel with an all-powerful Metal Blade could be a little more deadly accurate.

@digitallyfanged [Pic]

Tabby's reference was Auguste Rodin's sculpture, "The Thinker." (To which, somewhere out there, Sigma Posting is ready to dub it "The Sig-ker.")

Contemplating his status as the most advanced Reploid of his time, his next strategic action against the Maverick Hunters, or how to change/destroy the world? Sigma certainly could be looked at as someone who could be rather philosophical and get deep in thought. And wouldn't be afraid to show off artwork of himself in his fortress. Hatching detail is nice, and helps give that statuesque, worn and chiseled feel.

Ivo [Pic]

Ivo's reference was Impressionist Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida's, "Italian Girl with Flowers."

Fantastic job at replicating the paint on canvas look, I truly can't tell if this is just a digital filter or if you physically painted it! Extending the green curls of hair outside of his helmet helped mimic the girl's original hairstyle even more. Really pretty, and his color pops nicely against the smaller flowers he's enjoying!

JazzmanZ [Pic]

JazzmanZ's reference was Roy Lichtenstein's Pop art painting, "Stepping Out."

Steppin' out to fight Doc Wily tonight! Honestly amused at how just a few little line alterations were needed to easily transform this couple into Rock and Roll. Like the little nose bridge line above his eye easily morphing into the peak of Mega Man's helmet. Excellent eye for parody in choosing this. No Roll, I didn't mean anything by that...

@nightopianfoxgirl [Pic]

NightopianFoxGirl's reference was "Circe Invidiosa," from Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood artist John William Waterhouse.

Another brilliant choice in characters having Iris represent Circe, who was known for turning her enemies into animals. And having the Cybeast duo of Greiga and Faltzer as the sea monster beneath her connects to the allegory of her role in the Beast anime with the Synchronizer, Trill. She too probably wants to poison/destroy the beasts, and can be seen as a bit of a tragic figure herself.

@puyonlilah [Pic]

Puyonlilah's reference was the Romanticism era painting "Ophelia," by Sir John Everett Millais.

Yet another tragic take, with the X version of Iris filling the role of Ophelia from Shakespeare's Hamlet, who is seen singing before she drowns herself in the river. Forgive her Zero, she just wanted to live in a world where only Reploids exist! You certainly portrayed the grief and emotional stress on Iris' face nicely, as well as the effect of her barely keeping afloat, with the water ripples.

@vogler-art [Pic]

Ryan's reference was Romanticist artist Caspar David Friedrich's painting, "Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog."

In a world covered by endless water, there's bound to be days of endless fog affecting your sightline, aren't there? Very nice contrast of light and dark in your colors. There's something that just feels so fitting for Mega Man to be looking out from on high, to give a sense of adventure, venturing into the unknown, or even alluding to X looking off the cliff during X1's ending. How long will he keep on fighting? Maybe only the buster on his hand knows for sure...

Tori Campan [Pic]

Tori's reference was Leonardo Da Vinci's famous Renaissance painting, "The Mona Lisa."

Miss Tori got the most important thing right in her parody by making sure The Rolla Lisa had no eyebrows, because those have disappeared from the painting over time. Roll's green bow stands out in her hair even more with the beautiful green forest in the background. Wonderful job getting her pose and that slight, mischievous smile on her face to match the original!

Thank you to everyone again who participated this year! Each artwork was fantastic!

[g-xix]

Hey love <3 Could you write something about Niko being jealous? Cause I swear my man always acts all tough but deep down he's a little insecure 'cause he's so tall and lanky?

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY | Niko Omilana

ofc babes, ask and you wil recieve ✨✨

One jealous Niko coming up!! First of all, pose for the camera:

Slayed. Okay, now go on n enjoy the extra-long, 3k oneshot!!

-------------

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

"TODAY, THE BETA SQUAD DOES ANOTHER PATHETIC ATTEMPT AT A COOKING VIDEO!" Chunkz had yelled the introduction before the groups were introduced: Big Aneson Gib, AJ and Sharky on one team, and Niko, Kenny and Olivia on the other team. 

Gib and Olivia were the featured guests for the video, and Niko was secretly thrilled to have Olivia on his team. Despite nobody catching on- Niko had been... seeing Olivia for quite some time. Stress on the "seeing", as he didn't know whether it was really romantic. He didn't really know if she even liked him. 

All they'd done was filmed a "public pranks in the library" video and gone to grab a coffee afterwards, catching up a week later in the same café to edit the video together before ending up going on a walk through Primrose Park... They could have all been friendly gestures, at the end of the day.

But their meetups gave Niko butterflies, regardless. 

"Okay, what cake are we making?" Olivia pulled the cook book from the desk and began flicking through the pages. Niko leaned over her shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of what options there were, though Kenny seemed to beat him to it.

"Oo we should do the carrot cake," Kenny pointed the cake out- topped with buttercream and sprinkled walnuts.

"Isn't that a bit ambitious?" Niko asked, scrunching his brows together in confusion. Kenny couldn't cook to save his life and Niko knew that between the two of them they weren't very likely to produce an edible cake.

"Ambitious but... seems do-able." Olivia nodded in approval. "I make carrot cake quite a bit for my neighbour so we have a bit of experience at least."

"You make food for your neighbour?!" Kenny repeated incredulously, before grinning and offering a wink as he said: "Damn, where do you live and can I move in with you?"

Niko furrowed his brows in confusion. Was Kenny trying to flirt with her?

Kenny might not have been flirting but it made Niko uncomfortable regardless. He hadn't actually introduced his friends to Olivia, and he felt like considering this was Kenny and Olivia's first meeting, they seemed to get on better than Niko had expected. Especially as Niko then watched as Olivia giggled at Kenny, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking down in flattery. 

Niko felt an odd sinking in his chest- all the way down until there was a miserable lump in Niko's stomach.

Kenny was flirting.

And Niko was jealous.

"Right then," Niko clapped a hand on either's shoulders, pushing his body between theirs to force them apart. "Let's start making, then. What ingredients do we need?"

Niko and Kenny were whisked away to the fridge in search of milk, butter, carrots and a few more items whilst Olivia sifted through the pantry.

"You good, bro?" Kenny checked up as they both searched for the butter.

"Fabulous, fantastic, perfect." Niko listed off the words, concealing the twinge of annoyance behind a smile before turning to check Kenny's expression. "Why'd you ask?"

"Dunno, seemed a bit tense." Kenny shrugged before pulling the butter from the fridge with a grin, patting Niko's shoulder as he shut the fridge and picked up all the ingredients they'd scavenged. "Hey, Olivia's nice isn't she?"

"Yeah... Lovely." Niko spoke slowly before gritting his teeth, holding the milk carton with two hands to avoid throwing it at the back of Kenny's thick head.

"Nice face as well," Kenny grinned before they returned to their station, dropping the ingredients besides Olivia's dry ingredients. She glanced up from the scales, flashing a smile.

"Great, thanks Kenny," She smiled at Kenny as though Niko weren't there at all. Was this some sick prank Kenny and her had orchestrated to tease him? Was she purposefully ignoring him?

Kenny seemed to bask in the praise though, as he grinned cockily and leaned against the workbench besides her, exuding confidence as he made talk.

"What can I do to help?" Kenny asked, picking up an egg and tossing it up, catching it cleanly and doing it again.

"You can try crack an egg into a separate bowl." Olivia instructed before (finally) turning to Niko, who had tried to lean against the workbench like Kenny had, but Niko simply felt like he looked a bit silly. Out of place and too tall to be leaning against the bench. And he had a feeling if he even tried to play catch with an egg like Kenny was he'd make an even bigger mess of himself. "We need four eggs so you can do two as well, Niko."

Niko nodded enthusiastically, puffing his chest and putting an egg in either hand.

"I can crack an egg without any shells getting in." Kenny bragged, neatly cracking his egg against the counter before the inside smoothly plopped into the bowl.

"That's easy stuff." Niko laughed, though he couldn't remember the last time he'd he'd cracked an egg. He followed what Kenny had done and much to his surprise he didn't spill the egg or allow any eggshell into the bowl.

"Can you do it one handed, though?" Kenny neatly cracked his egg with just one hand, impressing even Olivia as she nodded approvingly from behind.

"Impressive, Kenny." She appraised, as Kenny took a sweeping bow with a smirk only Niko could see. 

"Well, I..." Niko searched his mind for a way to one up Kenny. He wanted Olivia to praise him like that. "Can do that with my eyes closed."

"Can you really?" Olivia asked with a raised brow. She was clearly dubious but still seemed interested. "If you can then I will be seriously impressed."

"I'll make sure you can't see," Kenny reached around him and put a hand over his eyes, rendering Niko blind. Niko heard Olivia mutter a quiet ayo before he realised he was indeed not going to be able to do this. 

Niko managed to locate the counter, but not the bowl. He felt the slimy albumen glide over his fingers before the hand over his eyes was removed and he saw the smashed egg and shell all over the counter. Olivia had her hands covering her face in horror, eyes squeezed shut, and Kenny with a hand over his mouth trying to supress his incredulous guffaws. 

"WHICH IDIOT," Chunkz's voice boomed as he approached, spotting the mashed egg that was slowly slipping from the counter and dribbling down to the floor in escape. "HAS SMASHED AN EGG NOT IN THE BOWL?"

"A grave accident occurred-" Niko began explaining, putting on his camera persona to at least look as though he all had in under control. In reality, he could feel his annoyance oozing out into hot, bubbling jealousy in the pit of hit stomach. And embarrassment seemed to shroud him as he felt his cheeks glowing, ears probably a glowing red as he felt Olivia's gaze on the back of his neck.

"CLEAN IT!" Chunkz cut Niko off, muttering obscenities to the camera as he walked away. 

"Well then," Kenny slid the kitchen roll across the table and towards a scowling Niko, who ripped off a sheet and began scrubbing the workbench as he heard Kenny say "Well then, I guess that makes you and I the main chefs for now."

Niko could've turned around and kicked his shins right there and then. Instead he kept scrubbing at the slimy egg and hand picking the shell from the floor, inner turmoil bubbling and just about ready to boil over as he could only listen to their sickening laughter and little jokes. Niko watched as AJ sneakily approached Kenny and Olivia from behind (the two of them far too busy scooping the gloopy mixture into the cake tin)  with a small bottle of what appeared to be bright red herb in his hand.

Niko was ready to yell out for the Rat to piss off and stop trying to sabotage them, until it turned around and noticed Niko, grinning and instead diverting to chat with his favourite. Small, snarky and sincere, Aj had become Niko's favourite housemate, and they'd grown surprisingly closest out of the lot. For some reason, Niko always found himself able to pick up a grin around his favourite rodent. 

"What you doing scrounging 'round the floor whilst Kenny's stealing your girl?" AJ questioned cheekily, leaning over the workbench from behind to stoop down to Niko's level. Usually it was Niko that had to lean down to AJ's level, but Niko was amused by the role reversal none the less. 

"I dropped an egg now I have to clean up the mess like Chunkz-" Niko paused his explanation as he mulled over AJ's words once more. "Hang on, what do you mean by your girl?"

"I'm the master of love, I know everything Niko," AJ snickered as Niko rolled his eyes. "Cmon, you didn't think I missed the messages you've been sending her for meetups and to grab coffees, did you?"

"How'd you see those?!" Niko hissed, backing up to get away from Olivia in case she overheard their conversation. Though much to his dismay, Olivia seemed really occupied with Kenny as it were. "They are private messages for a reason!"

"Yeah yeah, just don't leave your phone unlocked when you go to take a piss." AJ rolled his eyes as Niko facepalmed. "But that's beyond the point- why you just letting Kenny flirt with her in front of you? I thought you liked her?

"I do," Niko sighed. "She's just... I don't know. I don't even know if she likes me. We never called our meetups 'dates'...I'm just angry for no reason. Kenny doesn't realise I like her and it isn't Olivia's responsibility to tell him to stop or anything... Besides, I don't blame her- Kenny's something different. The muscles, the smile... And he has good rizz-""

"Do you like her or Kenny?" AJ raised a brow.

"Her of course!" Niko exclaimed before closing his eyes and sighing. "I just don't know whether it's worth... Well, I don't even know what the whole deal is."

"The deal is that you're being a PUSSY," AJ pushed him from behind, Niko scrunching his eyebrows. Was AJ being for real? "Go and get her attention- make some shortbread or icing with her, i don't care... just stop watching from the side-lines. It's weird."

"Fine, you have me sold." Niko huffed before grinning as he turned to AJ. "Only because you're the master of love, though."

With a loving neck-slap from AJ, Niko returned to the workbench with a new sort of bravado as the other two slotted the cake tin into the oven. 

"Hey, Livvy," Niko called with a smile which he hoped exuded whatever Kenny managed to put into his smile- even using that nickname they'd laughed about in the park previously. "Wanna help me make some shortbread pieces for the top of the cake?"

"That's a great idea, yeah," Olivia nodded enthusiastically, leaving Kenny's side to join Niko. "There's some shortbread in the fridge that needs rolling out, I think- we can use that- and Kenny, you can work on the buttercream whilst we do."

Niko grinned as Olivia fetched the shortbread, Kenny working on the buttercream by himself leaving him and Olivia some time to spend with one another. Speaking of:

"Hey, Niko, some genius put the dough on the top shelf- can you use your superhuman length to grab it," Olivia called for Niko. 

Might be muscular but doesn't have my height Niko almost grinned at the thought, though he knew fully well Kenny would be able to grab the dough just as easily as he had done. 

"Hey," Olivia spoke with a hushed voice, meaning that he had to crouch down slightly to share the private conversation. He lowered himself until he was eye-level with her, grinning as she rolled her eyes at the gesture. She looked beautiful, right now. So Niko thought; with her bun slightly messy and askew, her cheeks dusted with a bit of flour, lips curved into that same beautiful smile. "You alright? You seemed a bit quiet earlier..."

Niko shook his head, the memory of being so annoyed at Kenny feeling stupid in itself. "All good, now." Olivia nodded before flashing a smile and taking his hand, pulling him back to the workbench now with butterflies swimming around his stomach, the feeling of her hand slotted between his so perfectly giving him almost a headache from the insane headrush he was getting. 

Olivia was first to plop the dough down, unsuccessfully attempting to knead it with her hands before offering it to Niko. "Whatever setting that fridge is on, they've basically frozen that dough," She had grumbled, complaining it was too stiff for her to roll out. 

Well fuck, Niko thought, knowing damn well he didn't have strong, dough-kneading arms. Still couldn't hurt to try, right? He had big hands and he was sure he'd read something in physics saying size was better that strength.

Rolling his sleeves up, Niko cracked his knuckles before attempting to stretch the dough with ease. As he lay his hand flat on it and attempted to push it out-

It didn't budge a bit. 

"This is, erm," Niko huffed as he put all his body's strength into stretching it out. "This has definitely been frozen- you can't even move a bit of this thing-"

"I'll give it a go," Kenny shrugged from across the workbench. Niko felt like ripping his hair out as Kenny began rolling his sleeves up. Obnoxious prick, Niko thought Everyone knows you have muscles, it's nothing special...

But it is special, another intrusive thought spoke, calmly enough to disturb Niko and offset his jealousy. Making Niko feel something maybe more depressing. Where's your muscles, Niko, you don't have what he has...

Niko huffed, pushing it to the back of his mind and letting his inner monologue overrule the thought. Either way, it's science, he won't be able to knead frozen dough- it'll just break off-

Niko's thoughts were futile as Kenny began rolling the dough out and kneading it with the fluidity of a baker. Olivia praised him and Niko internally rolled his eyes as Kenny lapped it all up with his stupid smirk on his face, flexing his bicep and letting her feel it whilst he worked the dough with the other hand.

Niko sulked, pushing the rolling pin from hand to hand and refusing to allow that stupid, demeaning thought play on his mind as his eyes caught a vacant AJ's gaze. AJ grinned as he made eye contact before looking to the side and catching Kenny and Olivia together again. AJ pointed to his mouth and gagged to sign-language his distaste. Niko exhaled a pathetic laugh, though he felt his heart growing heavy as he felt the moment slipping through his fingers once again. 

Yeah, Niko thought, I don't like seeing it either, AJ. 

"THAT'S TIME UP EVERYONE, PUT YOUR CREATIONS ON THE FRONT DESK PLEASE." Chunkz yelled after a bit. 

It was fair to say that both cakes seemed surprisingly impressive considering the chefs. 

Niko, Kenny and Olivia's carrot cake looked delectable, coated in buttercream and topped with shortbread hearts and stars (and a complementary penis)  and Chunkz nodded in approval as theirs was placed on the front desk.

But also, Gib, AJ and Sharky's Victoria sponge seemed well crafted as well- with an even golden colour and gentle sifting of sugar powdered like snow on the top. 

AJ stood besides Niko, Olivia also besides Niko- her shoulder brushing against his arm. He felt as though he should put his arm around her shoulder, but his heart pounded in his chest at the mere thought of it. 

"I think we could win this!" Olivia whispered excitedly, looking up at Niko with a sparkle in her eyes that almost made Niko's heart melt. He took the opportunity, and decided to put his arm around her- hand on her shoulder as he rubbed it supportively in a side hug.

"All thanks to you," He whispered back with a sincere smile. Olivia's face only glowed even more, somehow.

"This is..." Chunkz went into the carrot cake for another spoonful before meeting the team's eyes with an astounded look.  "One of the best carrot cakes I've ever tasted."

"YESS!" Kenny cheered as Niko and Olivia met in a hug, Niko moreso celebrating the way Olivia wrapped her arms around his body as they hugged, resting her head against his body and jumping up and down with him, her hair bouncing up and down jovially. 

The groups went to taste their own creations, AJ giving Niko a slice which he said "hasn't been licked by me, yet" which Niko felt as though he were enjoying until he turned around and saw Kenny and Olivia trialling their carrot cake together.

Kenny had cut a slice out, taking a bite from it before nodding with wide eyes and picking up the slice, jokingly telling her to open wide and holding the slice out. 

Her cheeks were bright red, lips curved upwards and making her eyes contract into little crescents as she laughed at Kenny's gesture, though she leaned forwards to take a bite as Kenny placed his other hand beneath her chin, keeping complete eye contact even as she bit into the cake, only lowering his hand when she pulled away to swallow. 

Niko felt as though his heart had been slowly and agonizing pulled apart piece by piece in front of him, unmoved and placid whilst he watched Kenny laugh with Olivia. Niko never seen such a domestic look in Kenny's eyes as he smiled down at Olivia gently... and the terrifying way he seemed so warmed by Olivia's presence- her jokes, her smiles, her charisma...

And even Olivia seemed to like him.

It were as though someone had switched the channel- as though Niko's mind was just filled with static as he tuned out to the finale of the video, clearing the mess and helping the camera crew pack away without a word, his mind buzzing and racing as he worked on autopilot. 

Does she always seem that happy? He had himself questioning. Was she that happy with me? Did she smile like that all those times I went out with her? Does she compare me to Kenny? Does she think I'm less of a person compared to him...? That he's better than me...? Does she even think about me around him or does he mean that much to her that she loses her head around him the way I lose my head around her?

The questions shrouded his mind as he stepped outside, feeling as though a tear drop were rolling down his face as he exited the building, heart heavy and body a big bundle of nerves- like he were going to explode if someone touched him. 

"NIKO!" A hand on top of his was what woke him from his dazed state. He whirled around, electrified by the sheer feeling of someone's touch against his, waking him up from that horrifying daydream. 

There stood Olivia, his Livvy- hair still in a beautiful untidy bun, face still a perfectly stained with flour... Though she was wet. Droplets ran down her face like teartracks.

Niko looked up.

It was raining.

How hadn't he noticed it was raining? He had felt the teardrops staining his cheeks, yet not the heavy London bullets firing down the back of his neck. 

"Niko what-" Olivia's words were cut off as Niko tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It had been covering her face. She smiled weakly at the gesture before clearing her throat and holding up her hand, carrying his puffer with her. "You forgot this..."

"Oh." Niko mustered. She didn't really care, did she. Was this all a game to her? Probably. He felt as though his efforts were futile, and so, Niko pulled his jacket from her arms before turning around and walking away again. She just came to give back his jacket. Of course. What else. 

He only managed a few more paces before he was stopped again.

"NIKO-"

"WHAT." This time he responded with an exclamation of his own. "What is it? Did I forget something else?! Did I mess something else up?! What now..."

He felt like shit the moment he'd let the words escape his mouth. Olivia's face seemed to fall slack.

"I just wanted to ask what's wrong..." Her face crumpled. Not as though she were about to cry- she was just suffering from empathy, and it made Niko's poor, bleeding heart seem to crumble.

He closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her shoulders- the two soaked bodies meeting in a warm embrace.

"You have no idea the way I feel for you you, Livvy." He mumbled, looking up at the sky. He couldn't tell whether he wanted her to hear it or not, but she seemed to have caught the message.

"Niko, you fucking idiot," She chuckled wetly against his sweatshirt, her harsh spoken words pulling Niko's head down so that their eyes met. "I don't know what you feel for me, but I... I like you. A lot."

The words seemed to take weight off of his shoulders. He looked down at the girl in his arms. His arms. His Livvy. 

"What about Kenny?" The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

"What about him?" Her eyebrows furrowed as though she'd never even heard of his name. Then as though the truth of the universe hit her, her face cleared in realisation, before she began laughing. "Oh-Oh my, Niko, are you jealous?"

"Should I NOT be?!" Niko found it in himself to laugh incredulously. "I thought you two had something going this entire time?"

"I could never have anything with someone else when you're there, Niko." She smiled softly.  Niko couldn't take the feeling of bittersweet aching his heart carried. 

"I wanna kiss you so bad right now." Niko breathed, a smile tracing his lips.

Olivia was the one to get onto her tip-toes, throwing her arms around Niko's shoulders and pressing her lips softly against his. Niko's heart raced as he reciprocated the kiss, his arms instinctively pulling her closer by the waist. Time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other's embrace, their connection deepening with each passing second. 

Until Olivia pulled away, sucking in a breath of fresh air and grinning. 

The rain had soaked her hair, pressing those stray hairs flat against the sides of her face, and Niko yet couldn't think of anything but how lucky he was. And how stupid he was. How fucking ecstatic he was with Olivia in his arms. 

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[foxwitchaine]

Which is your most hated character in Miraculous Ladybug?

I wouldn't say hate so much as strongly dislike, as it takes a lot for me to outright loathe a fictional character. More often than not, I have better things to spend my energy on than hating a fictional character.

But if I were to answer that, five take the top spot:

1.) Lila Rossi

I know. Surprising, isn't it. Well, it's all fun and games until you actually meet one in real life. And it's frustrating as hell getting those with the wool over their eyes to listen until it's too late. I have to emphasize that it wasn't originally part of the plan to redeem her in the early drafts. It was thanks to Rafe that I even considered doing a Lila redemption.

Lila had a lot of potential in the early seasons. Of course, that was before she was turned into a one-dimensional villain with little in the way of making her interesting. It says something that I got the feeling the showrunners were trying to make her hateable without actually putting in the effort while reading the Chameleon transcripts. (I had to stop reading to settle my blood pressure)

All in all, Lila is just a symptom of a bigger underlying issue regarding the show's writing. I personally think she has a very nice design, but it looks better in 2D than 3D.

2.) Gabriel Agreste

He's a severely underwhelming main villain. At the start, he had potential. But as the series drags on, it's become painfully clear that the showrunners don't actually know how to make a compelling main villain. He was surprisingly much more intimidating and better-designed in the pilot PV.

Gabriel also lacks the charisma you would find with iconic main villains such as Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII, the rogues gallery in the first Powerpuff Girls, Batman's rogues gallery, and so on. I could make a whole post about how to write Gabriel better, but I don't feel like resurrecting a dead horse.

3.) Adrien Agreste

The poster boy for wasted potential. When Rafe and I first started watching Miraculous Ladybug, Season 2 hadn't been released yet. He was nice, if a bit bland. Could have used some flavorblasting in both design and personality (he's a fashion model, for crying out loud. Where's his fabulous wardrobe?)

And then all the red flags in Seasons 3-5 started popping up.

As it stands, he's nothing more than a plot device to humiliate poor Marinette. And a mouthpiece for the writers' very skewed morality. We weren't going to redeem him at first, but then it occurred to me a fantastic way to strike a devastating blow against Gabriel. I won't say anything more since they're spoilers.

4.) Alya Césaire

Ohhhh boy. Where do I even begin with this one? Disregarding the racism allegations towards the writers regarding her character, Alya is just an awful best friend, plain and simple. While it's true that she's a go-getter who isn't afraid to go for what she wants, that same trait has pretty much been solidified into a toxic trait courtesy of her refusal to question Lila later in the show. Even after Marinette broke down in front of her and confessed her secret identity in Gang of Secrets.

I will forever hate that episode just for how entitled everyone was about Marinette's secrets.

When Rafe and I were brainstorming who to use as our civilian antagonist to fill in for Lila, it was rather telling that Alya was among our first choices. It wasn't our intention for her to fall as hard as she did in The Wolves in the Woods, but honestly? It was inevitable.

5.) Caline Bustier

She's a non-authority figure who coddles the troublemakers in her class. I'm restraining myself at the moment because I've had teachers just like her in real life. Who look good on paper and are the sweetest people on the outside. But their inability to discipline a class regardless of behavior does a lot more damage in the long run than many would care to admit.

Bustier is a character who I could have grown to understand if the writers handled her better. The biggest brat of the school is the daughter of the city mayor. That right there is a beautiful setup for interesting conflict. We could have gotten a plot where we had a good, caring teacher trapped in a terrible situation by her superiors. Which is unfortunately something that can and does happen in real life. Instead, we got an airhead who can't for the life of her understand this simple thing called nuance.

I find it very telling the fandom prefers Mendeleiev over her.

Honorable Mentions:

Principal Damocles: Too much of a spineless noncharacter to really care about

Tom and Sabine: I try to understand the parents' side of things given parenting is far from an easy task

Bustier's class: A mixed bag here, since I don't think they're necessarily bad kids

Mayor Bourgeois: Again, another mixed bag here since he's another spineless "parent"

Zoé Lee: Too much of a blank slate to have an opinion on

Félix Fathom: What kind of a name is that?

Master Fu: He was done so dirty in his backstory

Chloé Bourgeois: Another with wasted potential