#i do still like act 1 a lot but the pacing of act 2 and 3. hm

[stormyoceans]

MONICA'S INCREDIBLY BIASED TOP 5 GL SHOWS OF 2024

1. the loyal pin. a period piece QL with a (believable) happy ending and a fairytale-like quality to it that was able to charm me from the very first episode. while the pace of the story can definitely be slow at times, i was personally just too absorbed in the world that this show created to mind it. the display of traditions, customs, and food from thai culture, along with the beautiful cinematography and the colorful cast of characters, all helped to achieve this fully immersive experience, giving the perfect frame for anin and pin’s romance. becky as anin was also a revelation.

2. ayaka-chan wa hiroko-senpai ni koishiteru. I ADORE THIS LITTLE SHOW WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL. i admit that, as a bisexual woman myself, i found the bisexual erasure pretty maddening at first, however i am willing to forgive it in the face of how bright, lively, sweet, and at the same time deep and full of emotion this series is. it’s an age difference office romance that actually addresses the generational gap between the leads by exploring how society’s view on queerness changed throughout the years, and it does so by being funny, delicate, and unapologetically lesbian.

3. reverse 4 you. this is where my bias comes through, because while this show is far from perfect, i have the biggest soft spot for it. in general i tend to really enjoy stories that feature any kind of time related powers, but compared to others the true strength of this series is the familial bond between wa and vi, which shines as much (if not more) than the romantic relationship between wa and four. i do feel like the story needed at least one more episode to wrap up the loose ends more neatly, as some things kinda left me baffled and pretty confused, but my love for this little family of three makes me willing to overlook everything else.

4. pluto. if my meter of judgement to make this list had only consisted in chemistry and performance, then this show would have definitely landed in the first three spots, as namtan and film are incredible in it (the bridge scene in episode 11 is one of the most memorable of the year for me), however some of the plot points don’t sit quite right with me, and the execution of others was a bit lacking, so i unfortunately had to detract a few points. still, i enjoyed the show a lot: it presented a unique story in an interesting way, there was never a dull moment, and not once i skipped the intro because the OST is just amazing.

5. the secret of us. this show being so low in the list doesn't sit quite right with me, but at the same time it doesn't have the originality or the effectiveness in storytelling that other ones have. what it has, however, are ling and orm showcasing fantastic chemistry and very natural acting, which elevated a plot that im not usually particularly fond of (exes meeting again years later) and gave a lot of personality to their characters. the happy ending also feels earned, and some of the side characters are very memorable.

+ honorable mention (because once again, im a cheater)

23.5. i wanted to do a quick shout-out to this show because i feel like the fandom tends to give it a way harsher judgement than it deserves. while the second half did have a few things that bothered me, i still find this show a very accurate representation of teenage emotions, and the way it depicts young queer love healed the part of me that didn't have this kind of series growing up. all in all, it brought me a lot of comfort, and im incredibly grateful for that.

[starsandwriting]

Hmm need time to decide how much i liked s2 as a whole but what i will say is i LOVED ep 7 it was so fun

[mikimeiko]

Good Omens | Season 2 (2023), Neil Gaiman

[alpaca-clouds]

I really find it frustrating how very different in regards to effort the different companion quests in BG3 are.

Like, you have Astarion and Shadowheart who both have those really nice paced out companion quests with a rather good structure in the story, a dungeon for that quest each and this big bombastic finale with stuff that is only connected to their quest and nothing else. They both also - regardless of whether you romance them or not - have quite a few of cut scenes connected to the quest.

Then there are Gale and Lae'zel. Their companion quests are a lot more weaved into the actual main quest which you can see both positive and negative. Positive: They are a lot more related to the plot. Negative: You will do most of the stuff from their quests either way. You can argue that the creché is a dungeon connected to Lae'zel, and you can also make the argument that Laroakan's tower is kinda Gale's dungeon.

Then there is Wyll, who mostly just hangs around during Act 1 and 2 and then has a little tiny bit of quest in Act 3, though the game will very much make sure to push you into the quest even if you have not recruited Wyll or Wyll has left the party. So, yeah, depending how you read it, there are two dungeons that are kinda connected to Wyll (the Iron Throne and then the Ansur dungeon).

And then... there is Karlach. Karlach's quest can be summarized by: "Fight some fake paladins, get one piece of infernal iron, get a second piece of infernal iron, defeat Gortash." The Gortash fight is not even like the two Wyll dungeons, that are not really Wyll exclusive (I mean, technically none of the quests is), that are optional outside of the Wyll questline. No, you will have to confront Gortash in one way or another to finish the game, no matter whether you have Karlach recruited or not.

And it makes it just feel so very... unsatisfying. I think a lot of the problems that people (like me) have with act 3 of the game really are connected to the fact that the endings for the companions outside of Astarion and Shadowheart feel rather, well, as I said: unsatisfying.

I mean, yes, Gale and Lae'zel are connected with the plot, but also their resolution is kinda pushed somehow into this "post-final-boss" scene and hence feels not really as if it actually resolves somethng. Especially as it feels also so very disconnected from basically everything else in the game you do with them.

With Wyll I would even argue that technically the post-Ansur stuff could almost serve as a proper resolution... If the dialogue was not bugged as hell. At least it is for me. And of course it still does not compare at all with the stuff happening with Astarion and Shadowheart.

And then there is Karlach. I just... I am sorry, I hate how the game handels Karlach. Especially because she is such a cool character. But her companion quest gives you less to do than your average side-quest. It is a fucking fetch quest. That's it. And it has no proper resolution. Because in Act 3 there is not even an attempt made to solve her issue. I spoke about that before: I would be totally fine if there was a quest in Act 3 where the player tries to get the engine fixed in the city. BUT THERE ISN'T. It is like: "Well, Dammon does not know anything. Tough luck Karlach. You gotta either die or go back to hell." Meanwhile I am like: "THEN ASK SOMEONE ELSE?" Ask the Ironhand Gnomes, ask the Gondians, ask bloody Gortash, try to make a deal with Raphael. Like, there has to be something, right?

And look, while I would have loved some Halsin content in Act 3, I am fine with the fact that there is not really anything. That is alright. Because really, the entire Act 2 stuff and how Halsin is interwoven with it might very well be the game's highlight for me.

Just as I am fine that Jaheira and Minsc are more like cameos with not that big of a role in Act 3.

(Again, I cannot talk minthy, because I failed to recruit her so far because I do not like to play evil characters.)

But... Yeah. I will not go here and argue that the game is incomplete. It is not. But it still is very frustrating how the game handles the companion quests in this regard, because the companions are the beating heart of the game. And I think the ending of the game would have been more satisfying if the companion quests had been more comparable in quality.

[iluvloganhowlett]

I HATE YOU PT. 2 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

in which logan runs into you once more and works things out

part 1

warnings: mostly angst, some fluff at the end, happy ending woohoo, mutant!reader

so the x-men timeline is actually fucked so i def altered it a little so ignore that😝 this is placed around x-men (2000) and X2

“y/n?” this was the last person you expected to see when trying to teach a simple class. yet here he was, right in front of your 2 eyes.

you looked as the kids began to rile up, a chorus of “hi mr. howlett!”s erupting from the group.

logan flashed them a small smile before returning his attention back to you.

he begins to step closer to you, but you stop him with a simple glare. “class you work on the takedowns we practiced last class, i need to step out for minute. no powers, okay? we need to work on that.”

once the class had gotten started, you slipped out the door and made your way down the hall to talk privately with logan.

“y/-“ “what the hell are you doing here?”

suddenly it felt like you were back at your apartment years ago; logan and some red thing at your doorstep.

“no, doll. the better question is what are you doing here?”

you pace back and forth, cracking your knuckles anxiously as you try to come up with the words to say.

“i-i’ve worked here for years? since you went missing,” you stated, your words dripping in venom as you looked logan in the eyes with a hateful look.

“logan i thought i made it clear back then that you were the last one i wanted to talk to- for a while.”

logan only shrugged and smirked, still leaning on the hallway wall, “forced proximity?”

you lunge, pressing your arm into his neck with full force, pinning him to the wall. “you’re funny,” you retort with a sarcastic smile.

“i get that a lot.”

your left hand stabs your claws into his abdomen; just like the good old days. “i get that a lot too.”

“god, logan! why the fuck are you here?!”

“i work here, sugar.”

you pull a face, as if that’s no excuse for him to show up here. “cut the bullshit, lo. what- are you stalking me?”

logan scoffs, “well, we both know i would if i wanted to.”

“what the hell?”

he only sighs, “y/n can we just work this out? please? i’m tired of following you around like a lost puppy for years.”

“so you have been following me,” you smirk.

he stutters, “alright- now y’know that’s not what i meant.”

“sure sugar,” you mock, releasing him from under your arm.

logan rolls his eyes, “do you ever drop it or…?”

“do you ever stick around?”

you watched as logan tensed at your words, looking down at the floor, and you immediately regretted it.

“look- i’m sorry for how i acted the last time you tried to come back into my life,” you sighed.

“y/n…”

“it’s just hard thinking everyday, for 9 months, that the person you love the most is dead.”

logan groaned, moving closer to you and taking your arms in his hands, “you don’t think i know that?! do you know how many times in my life that someone has taken the person i love to get through to me? i spent those 9 months wondering if you handled yourself and were still gonna be in that damn apartment when i came back,” his voice broke and you watched his eyes shift from frustrated to almost pleading.

you scoff, “yeah because i can’t handle myself.”

“you don’t know that!”

your lips curled. as much as you wanted to shoot a snarky comment about not knowing that he would come home, you could see it wasn’t a good time.

his grip loosened, “please. please y/n just give me another chance and i will tell you everything. i’ll be honest, and ill tell you where im going before i go, yeah?”

your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, “ya promise?”

“i promise, doll, i’ll do anything you ask just plea-“

logan was cut off by your lips on his, which he gladly accepted, lifting a hand to your face and one down to your waist.

“y’know,” you began, ghosting just over his lips, “this was probably the only part of you i missed,” you joked.

“shut ya mouth,” and he did just that.

im cringing😮 i hope this is good bc i hate it🥳

taglist!!

@velvrei @spazwayy @oatmilkriver @sseleniaa @mei-simp @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesangel @realsimpbitchshit @pickuptruck01 @keigohawks @thereallchristine @zeeader @pink-jello-fish @twinky-wink @malfoys-demigod

[absolutebl]

MY BEST & WORST BLs of 2024

My Top 10 BLs of 2024 are (in order)

1 Cosmetic Playlover

Japan Gaga

I love this little show. It's a classic office BL about the older workaholic who loves his job and the younger upstart who unexpectedly loves his boss.

It’s a hyung romance where everybody is extremely earnest and sweet and pretty about everything. Except our seme, who is slightly unhinged and a little obsessed in all the ways one likes best from Japan. Utterly charming unexpected gem of a show. What fun!

Already in hard rewatch territory.

2 Love For Love's Sake

Korea iQIYI trigger suiside

KBL isekai about a man who must win a game by convincing a reserved teen outcast to fall in love with him. Of course, that teen represents himself and his own unhappiness. Like many queer narratives, this show is actually about self worth, trust, and found family, and it is VERY on the nose. But I don’t expect subtlety from my BL and I enjoyed it's truly lovely redemption arc and earnest performances. The narrative tension is tight, and the pacing is killer.

That said, I did find the flow a touch disjointed with overworked filming angles and poorer than average captions, but the consistency of tone, script, and immersion is spectacular, beyond the norm for BL (even KBL). You will drown in this show and like it that way. The leads have fantastic chemistry and it's ultimately highly rewatchable and utterly charming, which counts for a lot.

3 Unknown

Taiwan YouTube

Unknown is a wonderful BL with a pitch perfect portrayal of long term pining, age gap, and the stepbrothers trope. The acting and chemistry are ON POINT (especially from the leads) which made the resulting characters very believable.

When it dwells in intimate family drama, it's stunning. It's slightly less successful when it leaves the home and goes gritty. It's few flaws are the result of curtailed length. It could have used more breathing room to deal with side plots, characters, and companion character development. The editing was occasionally choppy and packed with flashbacks that broke the emotional tension. Still, those are mere quibbles for me. This is an excellent show based on one of my favorite old school BL tropes that I know I'm going to be recommending for a long time.

4 We Are

Thai iQIYI

I unabashedly loved show. It was slow to find its stride (I didn’t get into it until ep 6!) but I’m so glad I gave it a chance. It’s a soft ensemble piece with multiple couples and very little plot, but I didn’t care because it’s not trying to be anything more substantial.

Essentially, this was a series of vignettes covering one year of uni for a queer friendship group finding love, new friends, and laughter. It’s not being harsh with us or it’s characters the way some offerings of this ilk have been (side eyes Friend Zone and Only Friends) nor did it tumble into Gen Y chaos. In fact, this reminded me more than anything of a refined Love Sick - just with older characters and occurring within a genre that has matured over this last decade. It has that close queer friendship group meets earnest gentleness that made me adore Love Sick and Make It Right so much.

In other words, this was Thai BL at its finest, finding it roots again 10 years on, but also stretching upwards and showing us what it could do with that original seed. So? I adored it. Did it blow my mind? No. But it left me smiling and made me belly laugh quite a bit.

5 Cherry Magic (Thai remake)

Thai grey

A soft charming warm hug of a show about crushes and mind reading and self worth that really worked for me. With no-fuss execution from a consummate team and an OG lead pair (proving why they remain eternal and deserve to grow up).

Look, here’s the thing, Cherry Magic is a great Thai BL in its own right - not comparing it to any other iteration. But even when I do compare (and I've seen all the Cherries and read the manga) it stands strong.

I, personally, like the Thai BL slightly better than the Japanese live action yaoi, but I think that’s because I just really enjoy Thai BL's style and I LOVE TayNew (who may be my favorite OG branded pair still in operation). Also all the kissing was both present and better in this version. As it should be from Thailand.

Highly recommended.

6 Wandee Goodday

Thai YouTube

Such a FUN show. A charming quintessentially modern Thai BL about a doctor and a boxer who start as a one night stand and then fall in love. Great rep for everything from Muay Thai, to safe sex, to FUN sex, to ace, to bisexuality, to smiley kisses, to the first legal gay wedding in a Thai BL.

It’s a delight and I enjoyed (almost) every single moment of it. With out question it's best traits are active positive representations of green flag boys, communication, and grown-up relationships but the chemistry is ALSO on point. I personally can't (and don't) ask for much more than this from my BL.

Highly recommended as one of 2024's best pick-me-ups.

7 The Sign

Thai YouTube

This show is literally everything (except straight) all at once. It's BL, queer, band of brothers, romcom, erotica, PNR, fated mates, police procedural, fantasy, mystery, suspense, and slasher. It’s the king of genre mash-up chaos. Sure, it's madness but there is genius in it.

Was it a crazy unhinged mess +1 roll for damage? Yes. Yes it was.

Did it manage to hold all those tangled threads together? No it did not.

Was it also a charming, sexy, engaging, non-stop piece of entertainment? Sure thing.

I think this show is basically my KinnPorsche, and frankly I’ve been chasing that dragon naga since KP aired.

Is it perfect? No. But it was balls to the wall FUN.

Emphasis on balls.

8 Century of Love

Thai Gaga

This is a very pretty drama about a young man who fell in love with a nice girl 100 years ago, and when she died in his arms, he was cursed to live until he could meet her reborn self. Only this time around, she’s reborn into the body of a man. Or is she?

I love it when Thailand gets all up in its own historical business and reincarnation and shizz. I like this pair (it’s not DaouOffroad’s fault I didn’t enjoy their first series.) Daou’s wushu is snazzy and we got a unique meet cute. (Erm… Remeet cute? Meet cute 2.0?)

Ultimately, this is I Feel You Linger in the Air + First Love Again, rather than (as one might expect) Until We Meet Again or The Director Who Buys Me Dinner.

The leads turned in great performances, although Daou outclassed everybody else on that screen by making us really believe he's over 100 years old.

It’s a good story and a great BL and I can’t find any major faults with it beyond a certain level of camp that is sadly endemic to lakorns. I’m going to give it credit as the kind of BL that one could safely recommend to lovers of melodrama and historical romance, without having to qualify it as “good for a BL.”

It was, to put it succinctly, a VERY ENJOYABLE show.

9 Sugar Dog Life

Japan grey

This is a phenomenally charming and adorable little romance about a forlorn university kid and the police officer who adopts him. They are relentlessly kind to each other, in fact it’s an extremely kindly show over all (everyone in it is so nice to everyone else including us) so there’s very little tension. But what it lacks in drive, angst, and complexity it makes up for in earnest acts of service and simple affection.

These two are basically boyfriends from the get-go, it’s just one of them acts like it and doesn’t realize it and the other one realizes it and has to figure out how to make it a reality. It’s incredibly sweet and incredibly wholesome, nourishing but delicious.

Everybody who can, should watch this show. It will make you feel better about life.

10 The Rebound

Thai iQIYI

I am well aware that objectively this show was, erm, NOT good. But this was a sports romance Thai BL pulp with everything I could have asked for given this sub genre. More, actually, since MeenPing are both great basketball players and the team component really did form part of the connective tissue of the show (vital in a sports romance IMHO since these are band-of-brothers narratives).

Meen has his shirt off within the first two minutes which is all I needed but he's still pretty great as the sullen secret-keeper against Ping's cheerful survivor - childhood sweethearts torn asunder and now reunited. Then Frank sweeps in to give everyone a bad case of second lead syndrome.

I always try to judge BL for what it is AS BL, and what it’s trying to do within its own territory and purview. This did exactly what it claimed on the tin: gay boys play b-ball and fall in love. That was all I wanted from it. Sure there was random kidnapping and a light bought of mass murder, but what’s a BL in 2024 without a touch of the mafia? You do you little pulp, I’m disposed to be pleased.

These BLs all got 9/10s from me. Unlike in 2023, I did not hand out any 10/10 to any BLs in 2024.

The 13 BLs That I DNFed in 2024

(no particular order)

7 Days Before Valentine

Bad Guy My Boss

Bad to Bed

Beside You

Close Friend 3 Soju Bomb

Happy of the End

Kiseki Chapter 2

My Universe: Refund Love

Ossans Love – Season 2 (5 years later)

Playboyy

The Hidden Moon

The Whisperer

Time the series

You can consider these my "worst BLs of 2024." I am no longer a BL completest, too many aired in 2023 and it broke me. I now DNF all whenever I feel like it.

Codicil

I only carefully track/watch Thailand, Taiwan, Korea, and Japan. Other countries are not fully represented.

2024 - My Numbers

So my spreadsheet chronicled 109 BLs that finish airing in 2024 (down substantially from 138 last year). Japan has increased production slightly (length and consistency), Taiwan stayed steady, but Korea cut back - as did Vietnam, the Philippines, and Thailand.

73 = watched & reviewed (almost 30 less than 2023! I fell off the wagon in a big way)

3 = I'm still thinking about watching/finishing (4Minutes, Blue Canvas of Youthful Days, Spare Me Your Mercy)

20 = CNF (could not find)

13 = DNF (which accounts for how few very low scores I handed out, I just stopped watching). Speaking of which...

Ratings spread

(# of stars. & # of BLs given that rating)

0 (see DNFs instead)

1 - IT'S DEPRESSING they killed the gay, save yourself

1 - I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM WATCHING AND NEITHER DOES IT

3 - FATALLY FLAWED but still basically BL, however… do we want to support this kind of behavior?

3 - WATCH IF YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO but don’t expect much, it’s a total hot mess

9 - WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED probably around the ending or in narrative structure/cohesion or censorship

24 - RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS i.e. isn’t quite BL, convoluted, not strictly HEA, too short/long, or chemistry issues

22 - RECOMMENDED some concerns around tropes (like dub con) or story structure but still satisfies as BL

10 - ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED probably a few pacing issues or one flaw

0 - HIGHLY RECOMMENDED faithful to tropes, happy ending, good chemistry, few flaws, high rewatch potential

Favorite 2024 call out?

The Sign's nod to UWMA

Most adorable meta moment of 2024?

Wandee Goodday

Most stunning execution of a traditional trope in 2024.

Began Beginning (the shoulder lean)

(source)

[o0sleepingdead0o]

Prepared for Anything Pt. 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, MasterPost

Danny folded his arms beneath his head where he lay on the desert floor. The sky blinked with stars and he was so happy he took a trip out of Gotham to do this. He liked Gotham, it felt kinda like home. But it didn’t have stars. It didn’t have the expanse of clear black pinpricked with dazzling, little lights and constellations.

It was handy being able to pop in and out of hemispheres any time he pleased.

“DANNY?!” 

Oh.

Danny rolled his head to the side to see a few violently shivering vigilantes coming around a scraggly, rocky outcrop. Robin, Red Hood, and a black and blue one Danny hadn’t encountered before, wrapped their arms around themselves tightly. They changed directions to walk towards him.                                                                                           

“Oh, hey guys.” Danny raised a hand to wave lazily at them and tucked it back in place. “What are y'all doing out here?” He asked amicably, though surmised they must be on some sort of mission. What a coincidence.

Hood and the one coloured like a bruise spluttered. “US?” Hood cried a little frenetically. As they got closer, Danny could see all their teeth were chattering and their lips were starting to turn blue. 

Oh. That wasn’t good. He had been sad Orphan wasn’t here. Maybe it was better that she wasn’t.

Hood and Robin stormed closer while Bruisy followed at a slower pace. “WHAT-T A-ARE YOU D-DOING OUT H-H-HERE?! H-HOW D-DID YOU GET OUT H-HERE?! I M-MEAN. . . .WHAT?!” Hood gestured his arms bewilderedly at him. “W-WERE T-TEN C-COUNTIRES A-AWAY F-F-FROM THE S-S-STATES!”

Danny stood up and reached under his t-shirt. “Here.” He handed Hood, Robin, and Bruisy large, reflective blankets, throwing Hood off from his rant.

“. . .wha. . .” Bruisy said. The vigilantes seemed slightly confused, but didn’t hesitate to unfold them and throw them around their shoulders.

“So?” Danny raised an eyebrow.

“Our p-plane w-wrecked.” Robin grumbled venomously.

“. . .and ex-exploded.” Hood added.

Danny hummed sympathetically. 

Robin opened his mouth again. “How are you—“

“Have you contacted. . um. . . your associates?” Danny wasn’t really sure what the vigilantes called each other or what their relations were like, but they acted like teammates. They should help each other out when things like this happened, right?

Bruise sighed. “N-no signal.” The man seemed particularly tired and out a little out of it. That really wasn’t good.

“A-and all the s-supers are o-off planet.”

“The what are where? Nevermind.” Danny waved his hand dismissively and reached over his shoulder. He ducked his head a little as he withdrew a three foot metal rod from the back of his shirt.

“Uhhhh. . .” Bruise said.

Danny pulled another rod from a sleeve and a third from his pant leg.

“H-how, dude, j-just. . .just w-why?” Hood said.

Danny didn’t answer and reached underneath the back of his shirt to pull out a fourth. He stuck them in the ground straight up, making a square.

“W-what are y-you d-doing?” Robin asked.

“Building a cell tower.” Danny said and reached into his other pant leg, taking out another rod. And another. From his pocket, he pulled out a screwdriver and some screws.

“. . .N-nothing a-about you makes-s s-sense.” Hood commented.

Danny snorted.

“Y-you’re n-n-not aff-ffected by the c-cold. W-why?” Robin’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Uhhhhh. . .” Danny attached more rods together and screwed some screws. “I, uh. . .I was working out. Warmed me up a lot.” He lied. He knew it was bad. He was still going to drive it into the ground if they questioned it. “And I haven’t been here that long.”

Danny fished a large spool of wire from his back pocket and a pair of pliers from the other.

Robin watched him do it. He stared at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing further. “Meta-human.”

“Gesundheit.”

The reply seemed to take the vigilantes by surprise, but said nothing of it. They were too busy shivering and huddling on the ground, trying to warm up. At least they didn’t seem to be getting worse.

Danny pulled rod after rod from his clothes. He began to retrieve them from the dirt and sand before it became too many to say it was physically possible to have this many pieces on his person. He had to have limits somewhere. 

“. . .How d-did you k-know those w-were th-th-there!?” Hood said.

“Umm. . .I come here often. What if I got stranded and needed to call someone? Or I spotted a UFO and needed to make contact? I buried these in the sand so no one would steal ‘em.”

“. . . W-were in the m-middle of t-the d-desert. I d-don’t think you n-need to w-worry about th-that. . .”

“You found me, didn’t you?”

“. . .”

“. . .”

Dannykept attaching, and screwing, and wiring, and plier-ing, until he was finally at the top of a twenty-foot tower, and affixing transceivers to it. With the ectoplasm Danny infused into it, it should be powerful enough to work.

He had considered making them a jet, but that might take too long. This way they could get help from the nearest civilization while they waited for pick-up.

  Danny climbed back down.

Even with their masks, the baffled astonishment was clear on the vigilante’s faces. “What the heck. . .” Bruise said faintly.

Danny ignored him and flicked a switch. “Give it a go.” He encouraged the vigilantes who looked to be shaking a little less.

They shared doubtful glances and checked their tech. “It works!” Hood exclaimed and immediately sent out an S.O.S.

Danny made an offended noise and held a hand to his chest. “You doubted me?”

“Yes.” The three said in unison.

“It’s a cell tower.” Hood continued. “How do you even know how to build that?”

“Eh.” Danny shrugged. “You pick a few things up when your parents have a lab in their basement for you to play around in growing up.”

There was a long pause. 

“That is highly concerning and explains almost nothing.”

Danny’s brows furrowed.

“Seriously. How are you here?”

Danny shrugged again. “I walked.” It wasn’t a lie.

Despite explaining he had a way back to Gotham, the vigilantes wouldn’t leave without him. They slept most of the way back.

Tag List: @okami-love @whataspectaclebear @thomasdimensor @observerblock23 @stargazer-luna

[theemissuniverse]

“TURN” LIU KANG X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : Something is troubling Liu Kang and he is taking it out on you

WARNINGS : (MDNI) smut, p in v, cumming, slight dirty talk, dom liu kang, fingering, rough sex, temperature play, probably some other stuff I forgot

A/N : You people keep begging me to write something with Liu Kang lmao

MASTERLIST 1 , MASTERLIST 2

You didn’t know what had gotten into Liu Kang. It’s like something inside of him snapped. This wasn’t the Liu Kang you were used to.

Liu Kang had you roughly pinned up against the wall and was kissing you with force and passion. You could barely have time to react.

Luckily for him, you were wearing a night gown. Liu Kang’s hands went under it and completely tore your underwear apart.

He pulled away from kissing you. He licked his fingers and then went to kiss your neck before plunging his fingers inside of you.

You moaned at his kisses and he began to move his fingers inside of you at a steady pace. “Oh my gods.”

Liu Kang’s free hand gripped your night gown and he mad the executive decision to just tear it apart completely. You gasped at this action.

You felt the cold breeze on your nipples. Liu Kang detached from your neck and went to suck on your right breast. His pace did not stop while pumping into you.

Your hands tangled into his hair. So much so that the headband Liu Kang wore slipped off his forehead and fell to the ground.

This Liu Kang excited you.

When he felt you were ready, Liu Kang pulled his fingers out of you. Then he took you to the kitchen table.

Liu Kang pushed a lot off the table. Even plates and cups that soon shattered when they hit the ground.

Even though his actions were a little rough, he made sure to pick you up gently and place you on the table.

His lips made it to yours and he once again kissed you with the same force and passion as he did before. You moaned into the kiss.

As much as you loved this, you still felt like you had to ask. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Why do you ask that, love?” He asked while still continuing to kiss you.

“You just don’t normally act like this when we have intimacy.” You said in between kisses.

When you said it, it made Liu Kang snap out of it. He pulled away from your lips and looked you in your eyes. “Am I being too rough? Do you not like it?”

“No, no. I do.” You reassured him. “I like it a lot. I just-“

That’s all Liu Kang needed to know. He went back to kissing you as if his life depended on it. His hands cupped the back of your head. He gave you one last kiss before pulling away.

His hands went to his pants. He slid them off quickly then pulled his boxers down. It always amazed you at how big he actually was.

Liu Kang pulled you to him a little and kissed you while he slid inside of you. The two of you moaned into the kiss.

Even though he was a little rough, he made sure to move slowly in you at first. “Oh my. Liu Kang.”

The moans of pleasure encouraged him to go a bit faster. You held onto him tightly as he thrusted in and out of you fast.

Liu Kang kissed all over your shoulder as thrusted inside of you. The feeling of you clenching onto him felt better than good.

“Oh my god. Yes.”

Hearing you moan, Liu Kang was losing himself. He pulled out of you. He then pushed the wooden chair that was next to you two so hard to the ground that it broke in an instant.

He then took you off the table and aggressively turned you around. He bent you over the table and then went back inside of you.

The new position made you squeal slightly. You didn’t normally do this position unless you asked him to do it. So, this was new.

Again, he thrusted in you a little slowly as he knew that the new position would hurt a little. He rubbed all over your back soothingly while thrusting carefully.

Your hands gripped the table. You felt the overwhelming pressure constantly be inside of you and it made you whimper slightly.

When Liu Kang found that you were used to it, he went a bit faster. He gripped your hips as he fucked you from behind.

You moaned loudly. “Oh my god. Liu Kang. Oh my god.”

Moaning made it worse. Liu Kang let out a grunt and went harder into you. Everything that Liu Kang didn’t manage to throw off the table was falling off the table and breaking on the floor as he thrusted in you.

Your mouth fell open. He fucked you like he hated you. (Which was ironic because he was actually doing it because he loved you.) Your nails dug deep into the table.

The sound of skin to skin contact along with your moans were the only thing being heard. You felt that if Liu Kang didn’t slow up, he was going to break the table with you on it.

Liu Kang moaned at the sight of your ass bouncing against him again and again. His hands rubbed it soothingly before then smacking it. You yelled out.

His hands then gripped your ass. “Mine. All mine.” The thought of what had happened earlier today came to his head and he couldn’t help but be mad. He started to thrust in you even harder than he already was. “Only I can make you feel this good. I am the only man for you.”

You were now completely lost. Liu Kang was never a possessive person in general and he wasn’t like it during sex either so you wondered what had happened earlier for him to come home and do this.

You weren’t really complaining though. While he was fucking you rough, it was good. “Liu Kang. Just like that. Please.”

Liu Kang let out a string of moans as he watched you throw your ass back onto him. He closed his eyes tightly. He felt his release inching very closely but he would wait for you.

“Oh yes. Liu. You make me feel so good.”

Liu Kang opened his eyes. He pulled out of you, much to your disdain, until he turned you back around. He gave you a very sloppy kiss.

You returned the kiss but it soon ended. He picked you up and placed you on the table but this time he laid you completely on the table.

He pulled you a little closer to the edge and went back inside of you.

Without warning, he went back to his fast and hard pace. You moaned loudly. “Yes! Yes! Oh yes!”

The table wobbled greatly as he pounded into you. He had only hoped the table would not collapse.

Heat came from his hands. Not fire. Just simple heat. His hands were placed on your stomach. He didn’t even realized his hands were producing heat.

You were thankful for it because his heat felt so good on your skin. It made you moan louder. “Oh shit. Oh god. Liu Kang. Fuck.”

Knowing you didn’t swear while you were around him that much, he knew you were enjoying it all too well. His right hand that was still producing heat went to your neck while his left still stayed on your stomach.

He wasn’t choking you. Just was placing his hand there. “Liu. Yes. Oh god yes. Fuck me just like that. This pussy is yours.”

Liu Kang would never dirty talk like that but he did enjoy it when you did it. He let out a moan at your words and accidentally let himself apply a little pressure to your neck. Luckily for him you enjoyed it.

His hands were now placed on either side of you on the table. “Do not talk like that. I’ll end up breaking this table.”

“So break the fucking table and keep fucking me.”

That did it for him. Liu Kang felt the fire produce from his hands and he snapped himself out of it. He removed you from the table and watched it as it broke into pieces completely.

You didn’t seem to care though. Your lips went immediately on his and he accepted your kiss.

It was your turn to be aggressive. The two of you walked around the room while you kissed passionately. You found your way to the couch and you pushed Liu Kang onto it.

You climbed on top of him and his hand’s immediately went to both sides of you. You slid onto him and you both let out moans.

You didn’t waste any time. You started to move on him up and down at a fast pace.

Liu Kang’s hands dug into your skin. His head flew back at the amount of pleasure he was facing. “Oh my love. You feel too good.” He told you.

Your hands felt on his chest and you were glad he was wearing a button up shirt. With all your strength, you ripped the shirt open completely and rubbed all over the exposed area.

Liu Kang’s dominance was failing him and he felt even more submissive to you. He didn’t want to hurt you so he placed his hands on the couch cushions and when he did, he ripped some of it apart.

“Oh god. Liu Kang. I’m so close.”

“Me too.” Liu Kang tried to grab your hips in order to move you so he could be on top of you but you resisted. “Love-“

“It’s okay. Let me take care of you.” You kissed him sweetly on his lips and then on his neck softly. “I love riding you.”

Liu Kang was gripping onto you so tight that he would eventually cause you to bruise. He felt himself pant heavily. “(Y/N). I cannot.”

You kept giving him sweet kisses on his neck. “Yes, you can baby. Fill me up. I want it all.”

Both of you were a panting mess. The constant pressure you had on your clit as you went up and down was all too much. “Oh. Liu. Yes. Yes.”

You felt your orgasm hit you and it felt utterly amazing. Liu Kang helped you move your hips up and down as you finished on top of him.

Your clit was beyond sensitive but you forced yourself to keep moving on top of him until he had came. He wasn’t far from you.

Liu Kang’s hands gripped the top of the couch to the point that he was ripping the fabric off the couch. “Oh my love. Yes. My love.”

“That’s right baby. Cum inside of me.”

“(Y/N). I’m cumming. I love you. I love you.” You felt his cum erupt inside of you and Liu Kang continued to mumble things as you rode out his high.

Before you could get off of him, he grabbed your chin and kissed you. You accepted the kiss and you almost felt like wanting him to have you all over again.

The two of you pull away. You get off of him and stretch. Liu Kang sits there for a second trying to gather his breathing.

You sit next to him. “I’d figure the fire god himself wouldn’t be so easily tired.”

Liu Kang chuckled. “Oh hush.”

Now, you felt the time to address the ‘elephant’ in the room. “Not that I didn’t enjoy every second of that but…are you really okay? You never done before.”

Liu Kang sighed slightly. He scratched the back of his neck before speaking. “I was battling Shang Tsung today. He a made a comment.”

Shang Tsung was the sorcerer that was entirely too obsessed over you. Usually, Liu Kang was good at ignoring his advances. Maybe even too good but today had been different.

“Oh?” You questioned. “What did he say?”

“There is something that I have kept from you…and I know I shouldn’t have.” He said. You waited patiently for him to reveal it. “In a previous timeline - you were not good. You were evil. You were an Earthrealm warrior that craved power. Shang Tsung had that power. So, you fell in love with him.”

Your eyes widen at this reveal. It was something you definitely did not expect. “Are you serious? I fall in love…with that?”

“Shang Tsung found this out and claimed that I could not stop you two from being together. That history would repeat itself shortly.”

You weren’t necessarily mad at him. You couldn’t blame Liu Kang for what had happen in the past and for him not wanting to think about it.

The thought of you ever being in love with Shang Tsung disturbed you although.

You rested your hand on his shoulder. “Liu, I get it. I wouldn’t want to think about that either.” You grabbed his chin and faced him to you. “But I love you though. I’ll always love you. Don’t let him get in your head.”

Liu Kang looked at you, eyes full of love. He leaned over and kissed you softly on the lips. “I love you so much.”

You kissed him again before pulling away. “You completely destroyed this house I hope you know.”

Liu Kang looked over to everything. To your torn clothes, to the broken plates and cups, to the broken chair, the broken table, and to the ripped up couch.

He rubbed his temples, slightly embarrassed. “I will get it fixed.”

You laughed at him try to hide his face. You moved his hand and pecked his lips. “It’s okay. It was hot.” Your hands run up and down his chest. “How bout a round two?”

Liu Kang smirked slightly to you before pushing you back on the couch. “You’re playing with fire, love.”

[wishesofeternity]

I have a lot of mixed feelings about Arcane Season 2, especially after Act 1.

I enjoyed the season and there was a great deal I loved about it. The animation, in particular, was spectacular. But I had a lot of issues about its pacing, characterization and key narrative choices.

(Spoilers)

Why does the finale of a show that's supposed to be about two sisters revolve around two men? Why were all of its other female characters also sidelined to focus on them? Why was Sky fridged yet again?

Vi had no proper arc or goal across this season and was very inconsistently written. Jinx had comparatively more consistency but still had major issues. Their relationship, as mentioned above, was also not handled properly or given adequate attention.

Vi and Caitlyn's relationship was a mess in almost every way, I'm sorry.

Mel and Ekko were both almost entirely sidelined after Act 1 (and the Firelights barely played any role at all?)

The way they handled Viktor's terminal illness, specifically how Jayce spoke about it, was fucked up

The socio-political conflict between Piltover and Zaun was almost completely swept under the rug by bringing in a new Big Bad and common enemy for them to "unite" against. Piltover's oppression of Zaun was also massively minimized after Act 1 and ignored altogether; after defeating Noxus, there is no reason not to believe that they would go back to the status quo of inequality and martial law. Sevika getting a seat on the council (still Piltover's council) is mere lip service with no discussion on what that actually entailed, or what they planned to do in the future. Zaun is still not free. I've seen people try to justify this by claiming that "that was the point, it's meant to show that things are imperfect" but the fact of the matter is that there is no indication that the show wanted to make this point at all (and if they did, it was very badly done). They should have addressed the oppression of Zaun directly, which they never did. What they instead did was actively downplay it on far too many occasions.

There were some plot points I personally disagreed with, like their decision to bring Vander back, but those are personal grievances that I could have made peace with if they were written well. Unfortunately, they weren't.

A lot of these problems stem from pacing, tbh. The show also introduced far too many plot threads last minute without resolving anything properly. If they had three seasons, or even a longer second season, maybe they could have committed to addressing what they had previously set up. But it doesn't seem to have been their priority in the first place, so 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also, the way the fandom is relentlessly attacking anyone who dares to critique/criticize this season is pathetic and needs to stop.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Wicked the movie thoughts - spoiler version

I went to see Wicked today! If you want to read a spoiler free edition of what I thought you can do that here but otherwise below the cut I am going to talk in a lot of detail about the show and share my thoughts - they're overwhelmingly positive!! I loved this movie, I love this musical, and I have a lot of thoughts to discuss, I'm welcoming conversations about things I say or about stuff I didn't say but that you want to talk about let's absolutely chat, and this is all the way through going to contain spoilers for the plot but also for specific details, scenes, acting, etc, of the new movie so be warned if you don't want to read that

First of all, the genuine love and care that was put into the show and that can be seen not only in the acting but in the set, the music, in every aspect the care and the adoration for the theatre production was so clear, it was so lovingly crafted from the word go. I also felt like not only Wicked the musical but also Oz, in the original Wizard of Oz novel, in the Wicked novel, in the world and in everything that Gregory Maguire brought to the world, and so on and so forth was being treated with such care and being genuinely revered whilst also balancing well enough that I didn't feel like I was only ever seeing rehashes of existing material or a carbon copy of the past

Even as I was watching and thinking this, and thinking how well they had captured the feeling of watching something on stage, I was still wondering how they were possibly going to execute the Emerald City and the One Short Day performance because it's so iconic and so distinct in the musical but genuinely I was so impressed with the success of that scene. It both captured the essence of One Short Day on stage and added something new to it without taking anything away from the original and they deserve so much praise for that. I'm going to talk a little bit about the nail salon scene later when I discuss propaganda in Wicked (this is gonna be a looooooong post y'all buckle up) but other than that for One Short Day I just need to address, because how could I not, IDINA MENZEL AND KRISTEN CHENOWORTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I didn't know they were going to be there!!!!!!!!!! I was losing my goddamn mind you guys omg

I was genuinely astonished. Like I'd seen them doing press and stuff but I assumed that was just because their names are so synonymous with Wicked I didn't realise they were actually going to be there!!

I really enjoyed the small stage production about the Wise Ones and the Grimmerie it was brilliant in concept and execution for worldbuilding and lore but KRISTEN AND IDINA OMG wonderful oh my gosh. Now was it on the nose? Absolutely. But I don't think that it felt forced, I thought that if you didn't know who they were then even when Chenoworth was singing to Grande and Menzel was singing to Eviro then it still wouldn't have felt strange or out of place, but of course I'm looking at it through the lens of a fan receiving fan service so generally speaking even though I know it's fanservice I'm still going to enjoy it and it's possible that through another's eyes it would feel different. I thought it was brilliant though and nothing will take that away from me

I think it's fair to say that the pacing of Wicked is kind of messed up and I have heard concern that because of that the act 2 movie will struggle; pacing of act 2 does get messy, but I cannot fault them in any way for splitting it into two movies ok because this was spectacular and I would not want to cut a single thing from it so yeah that's kind of all my thoughts on that point; I think that even if act 2 is harder to bring to screen that it can still be done in a high quality and successful way and especially after watching part 1 today I absolutely trust that this production can do that

I'm gonna now hop right back to No-One Mourns the Wicked (the pacing of this post is gonna be worse than the pacing of wicked). I was slightly concerned that Ariana Grande's intense recognisable-ness was going to take something away from the show because it would be hard to see the character she was playing rather than just Ariana Grande singing, if that makes sense, but from as early as No-One Mourns the Wicked my concerns were alleviated. Glinda is not an easy character to play, in my opinion, and she's not an easy character to play because she acts incredibly melodramatic in everything she does whilst her genuine emotions are incredibly subtle. What I saw in both Grande and Erivo was how fantastic their micro-expressions are and how much they can tell the audience with one or two features, often the eyes, alone. In No-One Mourns the Wicked , Galinda genuinely believes and will presumably continue to believe for the rest of her life that Elphaba is dead. And throughout her performance of the song, I more than once found it visibly notable that Glinda was on the verge of tears. She was smiling, she was singing, she was moving gracefully with her typical accentuated and dramatic movements, but the pain in her eyes was remarkable. This was a woman who believed that the only person she had ever had a genuine emotional connection with was dead, a woman who had lost not only someone she had manufactured a relationship with (Fiyero) and convinced herself that she was happy with what she knew was a false pretence of love to receive from, but also the only person in the world who had ever shown her real love and was finally being confronted by the fullest extent of the choices she had made but having to keep everything light and cheerful because of those very choices. Did that make sense? I hope I'm not just spouting nonsense. One of the most emphasised moments of this for me was when this massive effigy of Elphaba and one of the munchkinland residents hands Glinda the torch to light it; there's this blink and you miss it moment where Glinda looks at the torch, at the effigy, then back to the man who held it out to her, who's watching her expectantly, before she turns and tosses it on with a sense of urgency. Not only is this alone powerful, but I also think it's powerful that she throws the torch instead of standing at the effigy and taking care to set it alight firstly because she may not be able to bring herself to do so but also in a way that may be reflective of their relationship and the story: Glinda does not outrightly attack or harm Elphaba but she makes the choices that she makes, she throws her torch and whatever burns will burn.

I also felt that she captured the comedic elements of Glinda fantastically, with one of my favourite moments being when she melodramatically collapses kneeling in front of the bed as though she is sobbing into the quilt but just sits there perfectly still and the camera just stares at her for a few moments before she peeks up over her shoulder to see if Elphie's looking. The difference we can see between these two sides of Glinda's character was very well executed and I think we also see something of her more vulnerable side in some of these comedic moments, because ultimately she does (I'm going to talk about this later) feel unloved because of how shallow all of her relationships are and even in melodramatic, foolish or naive moments like the throwing herself on the duvet cover she is actively seeking attention because she equates attention to love - she so desperately claws her way to attention and popularity because she feels unloved and she thinks that this is love, so when it doesn't give her the feeling she was searching for she becomes convinced that it was because she doesn't have enough of it yet and she needs more. I thought that she was incredibly well captured and presented from all angles with her very many layers being well laid out.

Again with the insane jumping around but let's just dive headfirst into a couple of little details that I noticed whilst I'm thinking about them - during the Wizard and I when Elphaba is imagining her success and her dream she runs through a cornfield!! As though she is running towards Fiyero!!! I loved it. Like it's so tiny, but I love it. Another tiny one - loved the silver shoes for Nessa as a hark to the original book wherein the magic slippers were silver, but then in Popular when Glinda is going through her wardrobe and pulling out all these different options she gives Elphaba a pair of ruby red slippers and then decides against them and throws them away again!! Loved it as a teeny little reference. I also really lovedddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd and this one is more meaningful to the story but when Elphie has her magic outburst at Shiz right at the start where she sends Nessa into the air and stuff gets thrown everywhere, there's a statue on the wall of the Wizard that gets smashed. When it smashes, it's briefly visible that beneath the statue the wall was originally painted with a mural of animal scholars!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVED this detail, I was BUZZING. Like you saw it long enough to see what it was, there were three animals with a bear in the middle and I think the bear was wearing maroon robes and they were all clearly scholars

My personal theories on this is that either they were highly valued intellectual alumni of Shiz or that they founded the school, however there mya be lore standing on them that I am unaware of I started reading the book a long time ago and never finished it (I really want to read it but I haven't got around to it yet. I read enough to know what happened to Dr Dillimond in the book but I don't remember a lot after that)

Speaking of Dr Dillimond, I'm not sure if I just missed a detail or something implicit but I wasn't sure that they gave any real explanation as to why the poppies didn't knock Fiyero out????

On Fiyero: Johnathon Bailey understands Fiyero so well and it was brilliant. His performance very much took in the different layers of the character and the split between what he presents to the world and the intensity of the emotions he hides. Fiyero experiences emotion so intensely and feels such an intense response to others' emotions as well, and I think that you could really tell that whilst not feeling like anything was being taken away from the charismatic charming persona that you knew he was putting on. One of my favourite moments between him and Elphaba in this was when she siad something along the lines of 'you aren't as shallow and self-loving as I thought' and he replies something along the lines of 'how dare you? I genuinely love myself and I am deeply shallow' and I love this not only because his humour is enjoyable and his defence mechanisms are interesting but also because she immediately breaks through and says no, you're unhappy.

I promised thoughts on Dancing Through Life so whilst we're on Fiyero -> I don't at all intend to say that Bailey isn't a good singer because he is, I just thought that to some degree his voice didn't stand out from the chorus' voices in the same way that Erivo's and Grande's do and so the song did necessarily have the same bite to it as some of the others did/ That isn't to say that it wasn't a fantastic scene, because it was, and I loved the choreography and I was obsessed with the spinning bookshelves and all of it, the bringing the beat of the song in through the movement of the books was brilliant, and again he is a good singer and I think that having the actor's own voice in the movie is almost always the right decision

Okay I am going to make a post on its own about this as well because this is really long and I am so deeply obsessed with this I want to give it a chance to get proper discussion but one of my favourite propaganda-related details of this movie was Elphaba's nails. Yes, you read that right. Her nails.

In all of the imagery and posters of the 'Wicked Witch of the West' she is very often leaning forwards with her hands strangely position in the foreground and then her face behind them so your focus is drawn very quickly to the hands. In these images, her nails are always presented as extravagantly long, sharp, and claw-like. So in a world where animals are discriminated against and being used as the common enemy long before Elphaba is used as that enemy it's so fascinating that the dehumanisation of Elphaba has emphasis on her hands appearing strange or 'unnatural' and it makes me think of the line in Something Bad 'It's enough to give pause to anyone with paws' because that's where the emphasis on this distinction lies with no-one but humans having limbs that resemble hands - having Elphaba presented effectively as though she has claws in a world where animals are discriminated against and actively silenced, especially since she advocated against that silencing. And something I really enjoyed after having noticed the long nails in the posters during No-One Mourns the Wicked is that throughout the movie Elphaba has unapologetically long, beautiful nails that in a truly wonderful subtle aspect of Erivo's acting we get the sense she cares about even though they are never discussed. When she and Glinda go to the Emerald City we see this montage of their day during One Short Day and one of the things they do is go to a nail salon and we see Elphaba excitedly showing off to Glinda her long pretty nails that she loves so much and that make her feel pretty. Again this is such a massive testament to Erivo's acting skills because there's no dialogue about it but we know that she is so excited and we know that this is one of very few times that Elphie has felt pretty, she loves her nails. And they get used so horrifyingly against her. The nail salon is such a brief, subtle moment but it's so very well executed. There's also an earlier scene where she's alone with Madame Morrible practicing magic and when she reaches out to make the hand movements the camera cuts to show the shadow of her hand and it creates this emphasis on the length of her nails and how because of the shape of her hand midway through the movement the image looks like a claw or like a very stereotypical evil witch hands sort of thing. I also think that this moment is particularly powerful bc she's alone with Morrible and everything that Elphie does under Morrible's instruction is perfectly natural but what is seen on Morrible's stationary on the desk below her is representative of the propaganda that Morrible will turn the actions that she forced Elphaba to do into.

Also more propaganda stuff I could talk about the use of the word 'witch' for all goddamn eternity so I'm not going to hark on about it now but I will say that a piece of media like this one cannot be created today without acknowledgemnt of the difference between the word 'wtich' and the word 'wizard' and how they are presented, and I think that this was really interestingly handled in the word 'witch' not being said in the prequel aspect of it until Morrible labels her 'this Wicked Witch'.

Okay I think this is going to be what I finish off with but if you know this account you know that I LOVE a parallel and I was obsessed with the parallel drawn between family dynamics in Elphie's relationship with Nessa and her father, and then with the family that she's looking for and briefly thinks she could find with Morrible, the wizard, and Glinda. Yeoh said in an interview that Morrible's betrayal is realising that the mother figure isn't who you thought she was. Madame Morrible becomes Elphaba's maternal figure, and to her living memory realistically her only maternal figure, from very early on and this maternal view of her that we have through Elphaba's eyes is very much existent by the time we reach Sentimental Man, wherein the idea of the Wizard being able to offer her some kind of paternal love, that she has never felt because her relationship with her father is so fraught, is brought forth. Sentimental Man was very well performed in my opinion, it was the right decision to keep it low and subtle and close because it created this very specific closeness between Elphie and the Wizard and we felt what she felt, which was the exact manipulation that the Wizard wanted her to feel. When Madame Morrible enters the scene we then have both of these parental-style figures present telling Elphaba how precious she is, how amazing she is, how much they believe in her - essentially all these different things that she has been denied her entire life. What I find particularly fascinating about this is that what gets created here is exactly Elphaba's existing family dynamic - because Glinda is there too. This is what Elphaba always wanted - a motherly figure, a fatherly figure, and a sisterly figure - but it still comes at the expense of the sister. Glinda is being actively diminished and put down whilst Elphaba is raised and complimented for the purpose of manipulation and to be used for their purposes rather than existing for herself, just as her father diminishes and hurts her whilst complimenting and idolising Nessa but also manipulating her & never allowing her to live her own life. There's a moment where they're all stood around the grimmerie to get the four of them in shot with Elphie looking over the book, Morrible encouragingly at her side, the Wizard watching on from behind, and Glinda leaning over Elphie's other side to try and squeeze herself into the picture and I think that this still alone captures the entire thing so very well.

In a way, this is why Glinda turned round - without Elphie there, she gets love. When Elphaba had parental figures over her and no Nessa present to be better than her, she felt loved; when Glinda has parental figures over her and no Elphaba present to be better than her, she feels loved. The fundamental difference between them in the moment of choice is arguably that Elphaba's love for others, primarily Nessa, will always be stronger than her need for love from others, whereas Glinda's need for love from others will always be stronger than her love for others, primarily Elphaba.

In this moment, Glinda's warped distinction between love and popularity, as I discussed it earlier, is finally put to direct test and even though she loves Elphie and is loved by her in a way that she has arguably never been loved (we saw just how shallow her relationship with her parents was upon the arrival at Shiz. It's as shallow as her friendships at Shiz and romance with Fiyero.) she chooses popularity because she has somehow convinced herself that superficial love from many is better than genuine love from few. Elphaba's love for Glinda is probably the most genuine affection she's experienced in her entire life - but it doesn't come from authority. Elphaba's love isn't coming from someone who can raise Glina up or give her advantages and ultimately she is always seeking the approval of authority, possibly because she felt like she never received it from the authority that was her parents when she was a child, and she finds that feeling in Morrible and the Wizard, and arguably in the power that Fiyero's family could give her as well.

Okay super quick additions that i just remembered:

I loved loved loved the addition of her falling from the palace and seeing young Elphaba in the reflection and once again so freaking much could be said about the strength of Erivo's acting here it was truly beautiful and I found it like genuinely nerve-wracking even though I knew she obvs had to make it and the song wasn't over yk but yeah it was fantastic

When Elphaba's running from the soldiers & the flying monkeys just after the monkeys have been told to attack her and Glinda is chasing after her. They go through a narrow corridor of the palace lined by windows, and the wall are made of green brick. The sunset beyond casts pink light through every window. Every window is pink, all the walls are green. Elphaba is running and Glinda is following, trying to tell her to come back to the Wizard. As they run the flying monkeys start smashing the windows, so for every pace that they take THE PINK SHATTERS AND ONLY THE GREEN IS LEFT BEHIND. They are running towards Defying Gravity and for every step closer to it they become the less intertwined the colours are. The pink shatters and the green is left behind. It was visual poetry.

Okay I hope that this insane rambling made sense, I was partially transcribing this from voicenotes I sent to my friends when I got back after the movie and they actually got more than this so apologies to them and thank you for indulging me, and thank you to anyone who has bothered to read this lol I hope it was interesting - overall, excellent movie and I loved it!! Already can't wait for part 2

[skzdarlings]

vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 2/2

masterlist.

PART 2/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )

You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. cat-and-mouse. dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. brat tamer!felix and brat!reader. everything that transpires is fully consensual with implied conversations on kink preferences, and an established colour safeword system before the scene. that being said, they still get a lil kinky. please heed the following content warnings: fear kink/cnc, hiding, chasing, lots and lots of dirty talk, fingering, blow jobs, face fucking, throat fucking, a little bit of crying, penetrative sex. (protected but dirty talk like it's not.)

(chapter word count: 7750 words.)

enjoy! <3

-

The gentlest nip of a summer breeze moves through the settling blue darkness.  Everything feels romantic.  Everything except the handcuffs chaining you to Felix,  Security Guard of the Year, Man of the People, and Defender of Propriety and Pop Star Penis.   

Felix does not look at you as he drags you away from the stadium.  He smiles sweetly at passersby, doing his best to hide the handcuffs no thanks to your flamboyant gesticulations, but it dissolves again to that grim, determined countenance. 

Felix has an interesting face, so many sharp lines, but the overall effect is somehow delicate.  A body of contradictions, slender but strong, a stark masculinity rippling beneath the glittery prettiness he happily indulges in.  Blue hair should not look that good on anyone, but you doubt anything could make him look bad.  He sparkles like the glitter star on his cheek. 

You poke that cheek.  A muscle in his jaw twitches.  He looks at you sideways, all pretty brown eyes and a constellation of even prettier freckles.  

“Do not,” he says. 

“Do not what?”

“Just. Do not.” 

You obey his demand for silence.  For about six seconds. 

“So how long have you been a security guard?” you ask amiably. 

“You’re really trying to have a normal conversation with me,” he says.  “Now? After that introduction?”

“I prefer the term meet-cute.”

“We wrestled on the ground then you handcuffed us together and threw away the key—”

“Adorable.”

“Right.” He picks up his speed.  You could easily keep pace but you decide to stagger along like he is too fast for you, whining as he drags you behind him.  Felix sighs but slows his pace.  To your surprise, he answers your question.  “A month,” he says.  “I’ve been working there a month.” 

“And you’re already gunning for CEO,” you say.  “Considering how dedicated you are to bringing justice—”

He slams to a stop.  Your chain jingles when you collide, hands smacking together.  He faces you. Wisps of blue escape from his half-ponytail to dance across his face.   

“I already told you,” he says.  “My job is checking tickets.  Chasing you down was my personal pleasure.”

“You’re a sick bastard,” you say.   

He smiles.  It is a gentle smile, seemingly sympathetic out of nowhere, his eyes softening with the lift of his brow.  He has an uncanny ability to make softness more threatening than roughness. It gives you a shiver. 

“Let me guess,” he says.  “You don’t have a job, do you, sweetheart?  You can’t hold one down.  You don’t know how. Your parents have money and it’s nice, sure, but they were overbearing your whole childhood, weren’t they?  Until one day they decided you were grown and just stopped caring.  And now you’re out in the world with no more rules and you don’t know how to deal with it.  Except by acting out.  It’s fun, right?  Looking for trouble.  Makes you feel something for a minute.  Because even though you have everyone fooled into thinking you’re this wild and carefree person, you’re locked up inside.  You’re not scared of consequences because you’re already trapped.  Oh, uhh, stop me if I’m getting cold, yeah?”

You just stare as he blithely runs his pretty mouth. 

“You don’t really care about the prize, it’s just about the chase,” he continues.  “You told me I was a good boy, yeah?  Your words.  And you think you’re bad.  A bad, bad girl,” his deep voice drops even more, like the heavy-handed thud of a low blow, striking some place intimate inside you, “but that’s not really true, is it?” 

He smiles that particular smile again, full of affection and tenderness, an expression that is completely alien to your brash and aggressive nature. 

“Deep, deep down, you just want to be good,” he says.  “But you need to earn it to enjoy it, don’t you?  You need someone to tell you that you can, that it’s okay.  But you don’t make it easy.  And you’ve been running for so long, you probably can’t even remember how it feels when someone cares enough to catch you.” 

You suddenly feel the weight of the handcuffs. You expected this dull pretty boy to have a hidden mean streak to rival your own, not for him to blast through your barriers and drag your innermost thoughts to the surface.  To say nothing of his perfect speculation on your background. 

“So what, you’re some kind of stalker with a philosophy major?” you ask. 

He is still smiling. 

He laughs, a low chuckle.  He looks like a star, glittering silver and blue in the moonlight. 

“No, I’m not,” he says.  “I’m just the same as you.  Vexatious, apparently, because I’m all smiles all the time.  Just so good, you know?”  He is almost theatrical in tone.   “Of course, that’s technically the opposite of you.  Isn’t it?” 

When you don’t answer, he touches your chin, just his fingertips.  It is still enough to guide your face to his, locking eyes. 

“I said, isn’t it?” he asks, his tone sharper. 

If he is insinuating that you are only pretending to be bad, then that means he is only pretending to be good.  If you are secretly good, then he is secretly—

His mouth hovers close to yours.  He abruptly steps back. 

Oh.  You blink quickly.  Yes.  Of course.  It is always the real bad boys who take care to be good, isn’t it?  He does not need to flaunt it.  He can just smile at you. 

“Come on,” he says, interlocking your fingers with his.  He tugs you along, humming to himself as he leads you down the street.  So seemingly innocent.  Grinning to himself like the cheshire cat. 

You stare at those freckles, the glitter stars, his dimples. 

A vexatious vixen, indeed.

“So that Jisung guy,” you say. “The one who gave you these handcuffs.  He thinks you’re a nice guy who needs some adventure in his life.  It was just a prank gift and he thought he was being funny.”

“Yup,” Felix says, popping the sound.

“Little does he know you’re actually some sick and twisted pervert,” you say.

“Tsk,” he says, looking at you with a cheeky grin, as if to say what a silly girl you are.  “I’m not sick.  See, unlike you who bothers everyone whether they like or not, I only chase the ones who like to run.  Twisted, on the other hand… well…” 

The handcuffs jingle, strung around your joined hands like the red string of fate.  You look at each other, starlight on your faces, a noisy arena behind you and a game ahead of you. 

You smile back at him. 

You still intend to win.

-

It is a twenty minute walk.  Your conversation weaves around implications, some very forthright flirtations, and a couple scandalizing explanations.  Despite his previous goading, Felix is far more reserved in his desires.  He blinks when you describe a very dirty scenario and get detailed.   Very, very detailed.   

“Um, right,” he says.  “Fun as that sounds, I’m pretty sure that constitutes as a human rights violation.”

“So?”

“I, uhh, prefer to do things that don’t get me put on an Interpol watch list.” 

“Coward.”

You nonetheless accept this and describe a totally different scenario.  He looks a little wan. 

“Where would I get a rocket launcher?” he asks when you are finished. 

“I dunno, get creative.  My friend Seungmin once—oh shit, my friends!”

“Wait, huh?  Your friend Seungmin has a rocket launcher…?”

You take out your phone to find a gathering collection of texts from Seungmin and Minho, ranging from teasing you about losing your touch to asking if you got arrested and they need to bail you out.  Your friends are a nightmare which is why you like them, but they always get you out of trouble in the end. 

You confirm you are safe, that you already left, and that you are trying to have sex with a hot, insane, kinky sadist of a security guard.  

“You know I can read everything you are typing right now,” Felix says.  “I am standing right beside you.  You’re typing with a hand literally attached to mine.”

“Well, mind your own business.”  You do not bother hiding your texts. 

“You are giving them my name and address,” Felix replies.  “It sounds like my business.” 

“Well, it’s not.  We’ve already established the world revolves around me.  You’re the supporting character, pal.” 

“Right,” he says.  He blinks at the screen.  In a more serious voice, he asks, “Do you want the postal code too?” 

It never hurts to be thorough.  You type the address and send it to the boys. 

Good thing you waxed, Seungmin writes. 

Felix squints at the screen and tilts his head like a curious cat.  “You waxed for a concert?” he asks, giving you a once-over.  “What did you think was gonna—”

“I am prepared for every eventuality,” you interrupt.  “It’s why I always win.”

He holds up your handcuffed wrists and cocks an eyebrow.  “Is this what you call winning?” he asks. 

You smirk, your whole expression bright despite the suggestive wiggling of your eyebrows.  “Matter of opinion, I suppose,” you say.  “And my opinion is the only one that matters.” 

“Right,” he says, forcing a frown.  Despite his efforts, a smile is tugging at his lips.  He suffices to roll his eyes and march ahead, yanking you along behind him.  “Come on,” he says.  “We’re almost there.”  

Once your friends have your information, you put your phone in your little purse.  You turn the corner and find yourself looking at an absolutely gorgeous house.  Your jaw drops as Felix leads you up the driveway.  It is an ostentatious design to say the least.  You pass a gate mounted with two lion statues.  

“Not my style,” he says when you gawk at the stone kitties.  “This place belongs to my parents.  They usually rent it out but they let me live here while I go to school.” 

“So you weren’t kidding,” you say, a funny sensation in your chest and stomach.  “About your background, I mean.  You and me really are alike.” 

You realize the sensation in your chest is an inkling of feelings.  Genuine, heart-felt, soul-stirring feelings. You look at Felix and see a lot of yourself, though he is like a mirror version, exactly the same and completely the opposite.  It makes you huff, holding a hand to your stomach like you can control the butterflies there. 

“What’s wrong?” Felix asks, pausing at the front door. 

“When was the last time you had a feeling?” you ask.

“A… feeling?” he asks.  He stands silent for a long moment.  When he realizes you are not going to elaborate, he asks, “What kind of feeling?”

“Just a feeling,” you say.  “You know.” 

“Uhh.”  He blinks quickly.  “I have feelings all the time.  Every day.”

“Wow,” you say.  “That sounds exhausting.  Explains a lot about you.” 

“All right.”  He shakes his head.  He reaches into his back pocket and fishes out a set of house keys, twirling them around his fingers until he finds the right one. 

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I threw those keys too?” you ask.

He gives you an exasperated look.  You grin.

With a shake of his head, he sighs and unlocks the door.  The foyer lights flicker to life and the house alarm starts ringing.  It gives you a punch of adrenaline which has the predictable effect of getting your blood pumping.  Your body does not know the difference between fear and desire.  You have only been here two seconds but you are already licking your lips. 

Felix is none-the-wiser.  He flips open the alarm panel and punches in a code.  It beeps and goes quiet.   You look at each other in the soft golden glow of the foyer lamplight.  He still looks stupidly pretty, blue hair and glitter, sleeveless shirt and jeans.  Unassuming, gentle, sweet.  Not at all like he could throw you over his shoulder or manhandle you in the grass.  But he can.  He did.

“Come on,” he says, tugging on the chain between you. 

You feign disinterest but your eyes scour his space.  You pass through the kitchen where there is an array of baking utensils drying in the dishes rack.  The entire kitchen is clearly maintained with great care.  The rest of the space is a little chaotic, shelves and desks and units overflowing with technological equipment that you can neither recognize nor name. 

“I build computers,” he says, catching you staring at the pile of miscellaneous parts.  “Sorry for the mess.  I wasn’t expecting company.” 

This is uttered dryly and you wave it away.  You do not want to admit you find it somewhat endearing.  Your hobbies primarily consist of keeping the local PD on their toes, but you appreciate the practice of a craft.  It only adds another layer to this weird dude, pretty but athletic but intelligent but ridiculous but charming but geeky.  And just as competitive and crazy and freaky as you. 

“Bedroom’s this way,” he says.  “And, uh, don’t get any ideas.” 

“Too late,” you answer, though truthfully your filthier fantasies are fracturing in wake of the reality of him.  The computers, the baking tools, the wall of games and consoles, collectible toys and ughhh why did he have to be kind of adorable and secretly have a personality.  Mutual objectification is more your style.  Not quivering under a gentle touch and feeling… feelings. 

“You look like you are thinking way too hard,” Felix says, pausing at his bedroom door.  “It’s freaky.” 

“Not thinking anything,” you say, because you are too busy feeling to be thinking.  Ugh.   You shake it off and push open his bedroom door. 

He shakes his head and leads you in.  He has a pretty elaborate gaming setup, the rest of the room plain in comparison.  His bed is neatly made and you cannot help but envision a mess of sheets.  Yes.  That is more your thing.  Taking that sweet and gentle façade and corrupting it, right down to the core.  You want him to lose control.  You want to drive him crazy.  You want to draw this out, use the handcuffs and—

“Aha,” he says. “Right here.”

He pulls open a bedside drawer.  A pair of handcuffs is sitting inside it, the key right on top.  He takes it out and immediately unlocks you. 

The cuffs fall to the floor.  He scoops them up and jingles them in your face. 

You stare at them then slowly meet his gaze.

“Oh,” you say.  “You evil son of a bitch.”   

He looks at you with a soft little pout, like he cannot imagine why you would be upset and you are hurting his oh-so sensitive feelings.  But he knew you wanted to play him.  He knew you wanted the handcuffs a little longer.  Now there is no reason to linger.  Now you can just walk out the door and never see him again. 

He is going to make you ask for it. 

That is not your style.  You hate being out-smarted.  And you really, really, really hate losing. 

“Right,” you say.  “I guess that’s it then.”

“Guess so,” he says.  “Bye.” 

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

You are still standing in his bedroom.  It is dark but there is an elaborate lighting rig around his computer, all bright blue neon and blinking lights.  You are swimming in blue, breathing it in.  His hair, the room, and moonlight. 

You will never see this colour the same way again.  Of that much you are certain. 

“Blue,” you say. 

His brow crinkles.  “Blue?” he repeats. 

“Mm.”  You look around the room, pretending you are unbothered by the intensity of his gaze.   “Red.  Yellow.  Green.  Colours can say a lot, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” he says, exhaled on a breath.  The neon light catches the little star on his cheek, glinting at you.  He is dazzling.  This moment is larger than life.

You take a step back, holding his gaze. 

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go…” you drawl, backing out of his room.  “It’s amazing what you can say with just a colour…” 

“Uh-huh,” he says.  He looks at you like he did at the arena, maybe even more intensely.  Now he knows what you are capable of doing.  Now you understand each other. 

He follows you, assessing every step you take.  There is a subtle flex to the lean muscles of his arms, reminding you that while he is beautiful, he is also capable of more. 

“And what does blue mean?” he asks.  “To you?” 

You walk backwards, an unspoken understanding that once you turn your back, the game begins.  So you hold his gaze, smirking, inviting.  The foyer lights flash on and gold light fills the space between you, casting shadows across your smiling faces. 

He walks like a predatory cat, slow and smooth.  His confidence is easy.  He needs no grand display of machoism.  He just smiles that pretty pink mouth.  The glitter on his cheek sparkles.    

“Blue is the colour we show on the outside,” you say, “when deep down we really want something else.”

“I see,” he says.  Abruptly, his intensity vanishes when he laughs and says, “Put it back.” 

Somehow, despite diverting his attention, he still saw your slight-of-hand.  You swiped the closest object, a little jewel-encrusted clock on the nearby table.  You waited until your body obscured the view but he still saw.  

He can read you that easily, predict your moves that well.  Because it is not as though he loves the clock.  It stands out from his things, clearly one of the ostentatious designs, courtesy of his parents.  You can read him that easily too.  He does not like gaudy, shiny little knick-knacks.  He likes neon and blue and you. 

“Put what back?” you ask.  You have reached the front door.  Your hands are behind your back, the bauble in one, the other twisting the doorknob. 

“I’m not gonna ask twice,” he says. 

You push the door open. 

“I’ll give it back, if that’s what you really want,” you say.  With a suggestive little smirk, you ask, “So what’s your colour?��� 

Red to stop.  Yellow to pause.  Green to give in. 

“Blue,” he says.  To play. 

You smile.  You hold up the bauble, wink, then zip it into your purse.    

“In that case,” you say, “you’ll have to catch me first.” 

His expression changes in an instant, that playful giggling gone as quickly as it came.  He breathes and it fills him, makes him look sturdy, makes him look ready.   

“Sweetheart,” he says.  “Don’t make me do this.” 

The softness of the pet name is completely undone by the dark tone of his voice.  There is nothing soft about him.  He is ice cold blue and burning red heat at once, searing you with his eyes, the way they rove your whole body.  You feel each glance.  A shiver races down your spine.  Instinctively, your body braces itself, fearful of that voice and that gaze. 

It also gets you so, so hot. 

All that tension snaps. 

You turn and run, bolting down the driveway and past the fancy gate.  You are quick on your feet, practiced and lithe.  You show him no mercy this time.  Earlier you were unprepared, severely misjudging his capabilities, but you will not make the same mistake again. 

You glance over your shoulder.  He is no where to be seen so you slow your pace, bemused. 

A minute later, he comes tearing around the corner and your heart starts pumping again.   Just like back at the arena, he grins as he thunders after you. 

An instinctive little yelp leaves your mouth.  You resume your pace, booking it for the corner of the block.  There is a little patch of green park so you run there, disappearing between the bushes. 

It seemed like a good idea but the streetlight barely breaks the thick tree branches. It is darker and eerier here, genuine fright overcoming you.  You come to a clumsy stop, fumbling with your purse to grab your phone.  A flashlight will stop you tripping, but it will also lead Felix right to you. 

You hear him behind you, clambering through the bushes.  Your heart leaps.  The darkness makes you forget this is all pretend.  You run without a light, dashing down the narrow path and squinting for even a glimpse of street light.  You need to get out of the bushes otherwise you risk falling on your face, then he will be right on top of you in seconds.   But running on the road will expose you too quickly. 

You will not surrender that easily.  He knows that. 

Torn between the garden and the road, you get a brilliant idea.  You dash back onto the street and hope it takes him a minute to follow.  He is not behind you so you race back to his house. 

There is no way he will circle back here.  He knows you want a chase, so a chase is what he anticipates.  He would never guess you ran back into his house.  Oh, you can’t wait for the look on his face when he finds you perched on his bed, feigning boredom as you wait. 

You run back up the driveway.  The front door is closed and you crash right into it, assuming it would be unlocked.  Nope. He locked it.  Maybe that is why he was delayed. 

You spin around, halfway expecting to find him there, ready to push you up against his door and cage you in.  But no, you are still winning.  He is undoubtedly still running through those bushes. He will circle the whole block before heading back here.    

You hurry down the side of the house, looking for any open windows.  You do not think he had time to set the alarm.  Did he?  Maybe that is why he was so far behind. 

The side gate is unlocked so you slip into the backyard.  You come to a surprised stop because it is a beautiful landscape.  The greenery is pristine and there are little couches and chairs scattered around.  There is a shed, some storage trunks, a fire pit.    In the middle of everything is a pool, sparkling blue in the golden lamplight.  Of course. 

You do not rush. You cross the yard in a slow walk, taking a moment to catch your breath.  You strategize your next move.  Should you pose on one of the pool chairs?  Wait by his back door and knock when he gets home? 

Your thoughts are interrupted by a low hum.  Someone is making their way down the side of the house.  

You panic.  You are often caught scampering around places you are not supposed to be, so instinct propels you to hide.   You run to one of the storage trunks and duck behind it. 

No sooner have you hidden does Felix stroll into the backyard.  He is a little dishevelled, a few strands of hair escaping from his half-ponytail, but he seems mostly unbothered.  He moves at a leisurely pace, humming to himself as he swings the gate open. 

He pauses there, leaning against the tall fence.   You are quite certain the world has never been this quiet.    

 “I know you’re here,” Felix says, his deep voice shattering the silence. 

Your heart leaps into your throat.  You should have known better.  Of course he had the same idea as you.  Now what?  How can you outsmart someone who can predict your every move? 

You peek around the storage trunk.  Felix is smiling, all dimples and delight.  Even his eyes are glittering as he swings the gate shut.  He looks across the yard as he curls his fist around the padlock.  He slams it shut, effectively locking you in with him. 

So that is why he took so long.  He unlocked the gate before giving chase.  He laid a trap and you ran right into it. 

His walk is more of a prowl, a slow but steady tread across the grass.

“Come out, come out,” he sing-songs, uncannily chipper. 

You cannot believe you are about to be beaten so quickly.  It has your head spinning, your heart racing from your run, your adrenaline pounding as he approaches. 

Your heart tempers itself when he stops.  He pokes his head around the fire pit to see if you are hiding there.  

“Sweetheart,” he says, casting his gaze around the yard.  “You don’t need to hide.  I promise I’m not mad.”  He strolls around the pool, looking from here to there, even up at the trees.  He hums thoughtfully to himself.  “Now, now… If I was a troublemaker who needed to learn a lesson, where would I hide…”  He ducks behind a pool chair, frowning.  “Hmm, hmm, hmm…” 

He stands for a minute, tapping his chin.  You want to glean some semblance of your surroundings, but you do not want to take your eyes off him.  You are convinced if you do, he will manifest right beside you.  So you look at the house then at him, the gate then at him, the trees then at him.   You almost want to scream.  He is not even moving and he has you completely captivated, every last sense in your body attuned to him. 

“Pleeeeease,” he says in a long drawl, a cute little tone.  He ambles over to a different storage trunk and lifts the lid.  “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

He slams the lid down so hard it makes the unit wobble.  Even though you are far away, it makes you jump.  You have to cover your mouth to stop a yelp from escaping. 

You stare as he leans over the other unit, peering behind it.  He huffs in frustration when he finds nothing.  Despite the angry grimace, when he stands upright, he is wearing that saccharine smile. 

“You’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart,” he says.  “I thought we were turning into friends.  Don’t you want to be my friend?” 

He flings a chair out of his way, then swiftly drops to his knees to peer under the picnic table.  He is getting closer, bit by bit, which is somehow more terrifying than if he beelined right at you. 

He is giving you time, you realize.  He wants you worked up.  He wants your heart racing.  He wants you quivering and soft and afraid. 

You look around frantically, searching for an escape. 

Your hope rises then plummets.  The back door is ajar but that is an obvious trap.  It leads into the house but there is no way you are crossing the yard without him seeing you. 

You jump at another slam.  It was the shed door.  He is stepping inside it, rifling through the yard tools in case you are crouched inside. 

“Come on,” he says into the shed.  “Don’t be scared.” 

You take a deep breath.  You have only seconds to cross the yard while his back is turned.  You do not waste another moment, jumping to your feet and running as quietly and as quickly as you can. 

He is just as quiet.  You shriek at the sudden arm that catches you, just like it did at the arena.  Felix tackles you onto the grass again, pushing you down on your back and covering your mouth. 

You wrestle him, just like last time, ignoring his laughter as you claw and bite at him. 

“You’re a little mean, you know that?” he says, waving his hand after narrowing dodging your teeth.  He dives back in, undeterred, grabbing your face in one hand.  “Yeah, that’s it,” he says.  “Fight me.  Brat.” 

You do not surrender easily, but he manhandles you with the same effortless skill as before.  There is no doubt he has training that you lack, flipping you in his arm then pushing you down on your front.  You kick your legs as he straddles your backside.  He brings your hands together on the base of your spine. 

You know what is coming and it makes you shriek with frustration.  Just like last time, he slaps the handcuffs on your wrists and locks your hands behind your back. 

“You stupid little—” you start, your words stifled when he puts his hand over your mouth and yanks your head up.  He holds the handcuff key in front of your face, then makes a show of throwing it.  You are pretty sure it is still in his fist, but the very idea has you whimpering into his palm. 

“That’s better,” he says, slowly taking his hand off your mouth.  It hovers like he expects you to start screaming.  You just exhale heavily, glaring.  “All right,” he says.  “Very good.  Come on.” 

You play at obedience long enough to get off the ground.  He helps you stand, then you immediately kick at him.  He tries to grab your leg but you dodge the swipe of his hand, running the opposite way. 

Your balance is thrown, dizzy from the takedown and the handcuffs.  He catches you quickly.   You yelp when he sweeps you off your feet, boasting all that hidden strength again. 

He carries you over to the deck where he drops down, sitting with his legs spread to fit you in between.  With your back to his front, he pulls you against him, an arm across your chest to keep you pinned together. 

“Oh fuck you,” you say, wriggling helplessly. 

“Not quite,” he says, laughing.  “I’ve been picturing something else.” 

He covers your mouth again, catching your shriek when he tugs your shirt open.  The flannel falls down your shoulders and he yanks the tank top down, getting a handful of everything you inadvertently flashed him earlier. 

Despite the force of his initial touch, he is not rough.  You might have kept your cool if he was; you are used to rough, fast, hard.  But his hand is tender, almost loving, a slow touch that trails from your neck down your chest, thumb circling the peak of your nipple before he squeezes your curves in the cup of his hand.   It is maddeningly slow and careful, your whining trapped in the palm of his hand. 

“This is what I was picturing,” he says.  It sounds like a growl, his deep tone just above a rough whisper.  His lips graze your ear and you shiver. 

You gasp, taking in deep gulps of air when he frees your mouth.  A weak whimper is all you manage when he hooks his legs around yours and pries them apart.  His hand dives down to your shorts, making swift work of the buttons. 

“Yup, just what I thought,” he says as his fingers sink inside you.  “Do you feel that?” he asks, as if your attention could be on anything but the thorough, rolling touch of his fingers, torturing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs.  He slides his fingers into you with no resistance whatsoever. He starts finger-fucking you, laughing when you moan, when you rear up under his hand for more.  “Mmm, yeah, you want it don’t you?”  You try to resist but it is hard, especially when he teases you, making you chase him with your hips.  He just laughs again, slowing his touch maddeningly.  “God, that’s hot,” he says.  “You might be a brat but your pussy...   It’s begging for it, isn’t it?  Does it like this, sweetheart, hmm?  Hmm?” 

He is absolutely torturing you, rubbing those swollen nerves to the crest of an orgasm then withdrawing, again and again, until you swear it burns.  You make a strangled sound, clutching his hand on your chest, still cupped possessively on your naked breast. 

“Tell me,” he says.  “Tell me how much you want me to make you come.” 

“Mmmph,” is your oh-so intelligent reply. 

“You can do better than that,” he says.  “Come on.  Show me how much you want it.  You can’t lie to me, sweetheart.  I can feel it, hmm?  Gonna feel it when you come.  Gonna feel your pussy get nice and tight around my fingers, asking for it, baby—oh yeah, what’s that?  What’s it want?” 

“Ugh, fuck you,” you whine. 

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he says.  “Fuck you.  You can run that pretty mouth but I know what you really need.  You’re gonna be begging me for my cock, to fill you up and make you feel all full for real. Isn’t that right?  Go on.  Show me you want it.  Show me.” 

Your chest is heaving.  Your eyes close.  You concentrate on that orgasm, chasing it desperately.  It approaches rapidly and your thighs start shaking. 

He covers your mouth again, once more predicting you.  He knows you are about to come.  This time he takes you right over, groaning in your ear, clutching you tight while never once slowing the deft thrust of his hand.  You scream into his palm, the intensity of the orgasm washing over you.  The blue light of the pool flickers even with your eyes closed, seeing nothing but blue, blue, blue.   He surrounds you, his voice, his moans, his touch. 

Your hips buck, your heart skipping a frantic beat when pleasure turns to sensitivity. He chuckles but stops, dropping his hand off your mouth.  You catch your breath, slumping against his chest. 

He touches your face with the hand he just used to fuck you, wet fingers streaking across your mouth as he turns your head.  You blink at him and part your lips just for him to shove his fingers in your mouth.  You cannot help but moan, eyes closing as you suck the tangy wetness right off his fingers.  You watch when he takes them back, when he licks them for himself.  Strands of blue fall across his forehead.  He looks as flushed and filthy as you feel. 

He grins around his fingers.  Then he grabs the back of your neck and pulls your face to his.  He kisses you for the first time with the taste of your pussy on both your mouths.  His kiss is deep and bold, as if you are already his.  You are dizzy when he stops, gasping when he pecks your lips with sweet, chaste little kisses. 

“Gonna uncuff you now,” he says softly.  “Because for what we do next…”  He grabs you by the throat and you mewl, clenching around nothing when he rolls his hips under you, showing you how hard he is.  “Yeah, sweetheart.  For that, I need all of you.” 

You sit quietly while he uncuffs you.  You feign complacency, standing on shaky legs when he guides you upright.   You fix your shirt, glaring at him, though it is a little harder while you are still catching your breath. 

He was right about one thing; you need him like you have never needed anyone.  You are throbbing, completely and totally aching with the loss of his touch.  You have never felt such clear pulsations, your body begging for more even while your expression is petulant. 

You follow him to the open door.  One step, two steps. 

Then you say, “Blue.” 

You take off running into the house. 

He laughs incredulously, not even making an attempt to grab you. 

He slams the door shut behind him.  You skid to a stop in the hall, listening to the gentle beeping of the alarm as he arms it from the inside.  It is the same quiet threat as the padlock; there is no escape. 

Giddy, excited, practically vibrating with anticipation, you run and hide.  There are boxes and tables piled high with gadgetry, not to mention his couch and bookshelves and general appliances.  Plenty more places to hide than that big back yard.  And when he finally does find you, when you have worked him up the way he worked you up—

That is what winning is all about. 

You sit in your hiding place, breathing hard.    

“Sweetheart,” Felix says in that too-sweet voice.  His footsteps are slow, unhurried, casual.  “Stop hiding.  I said I didn’t want to hurt you, but if you keep this up…” 

You peer at him between some boxes.  He stops in the middle of the room, catching his breath too.  The glittering amusement has left his eyes.  They are narrowed, his flushed cheeks and sweaty hairline only exacerbating his predatory air. 

He unties his half-ponytail, then bends over to run his fingers through the length of it.  He flips back up, all that blue falling prettily in place.  He licks his lips as he prowls through the room, looking behind boxes, ducking under tables. 

You shuffle with him, moving when he does.  He checks your previous hiding space with a jaunty, “A-ha!” then curses. 

“Come on now,” he says, turning around.  He smiles like a shark, all teeth, hungry despite the innocent flash of a dimple.  “You’re only hurting yourself,” he says.  “I know you, sweetheart.  You’re in here somewhere, and you can’t tell me you’re not thinking about what it’s gonna feel like when I catch you, yeah?  Hmm.  You’re fast.  I bet you’re flexible too.  I bet I can get you into all sorts of positions.  Get you making all sorts of noises for me…” 

It is a struggle to be quiet as you move.  Your limbs are still shaky.  Every word out of his mouth makes your breath catch. 

You swallow hard, freezing when he pauses.  Did he hear that?  Maybe not.  He turns the other way, heaving a deep sigh before he laughs.  It lacks amusement, a harsh sound as he turns and turns. 

“Come out, come out,” he sing-songs.  In a harder voice, he snaps, “Stop hiding from me.”  Then he smiles again.  He turns in your direction slowly.  “You’re not scared of me, are you?” 

You cover your mouth, cowering down when he seems to look right at you.  Your heart is pounding so hard, you would not be surprised if he could hear it, even feel it, shaking this whole damn house. 

“If you come out on your own,” he says, “I promise to make you feel good.  You’ll come so hard, you’ll forget how scared you are.” 

You keep that hand over your mouth, fighting to keep quiet.  It stifles a shriek when he suddenly waves at you, a drole little finger-wiggle.    

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says.  He crouches down, putting himself at eye-level, peering between the boxes that shield you.  “Don’t make me come get you,” he says.  “I’ve been nice, haven’t I? Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”    

You shuffle to the side.  He slaps a hand over his face, shaking his head while he laughs. 

“Right,” he says.  “Fine.  We’ll do it that way.” 

You bolt when he does, shrieking as you clamber around some equipment to get away.  You manage to escape to the foyer, cursing when the automatic lights flash on.  It feels like a spotlight, illuminating you in the middle of that big empty space with no where to hide. 

You can hear Felix stomping after you.  You scurry into the kitchen, looking around frantically for somewhere to hide. 

You yelp when he bursts in behind you.  This time, he does not give.   He grabs you roughly when you try to run again.  With very little effort, like you are scarcely more than a mild inconvenience, he lifts you off your feet and slings you over his shoulder.  He says nothing while you curse and squirm and slap his back. 

“You know what I wonder?” he eventually says, marching you right into the bedroom.  “I wonder… if I make you cry, is that gonna make you tighter, you think?”  He slides you down his body, holding you flush against him.  He smiles.  “Worth a shot, no?” 

And then he handcuffs your wrist to his wrist and tosses the key across the room.

“Oops,” he says. 

He grabs your throat and you gasp, spilling onto the bed when he pushes you.  He puts your on your back then straddles your chest, swiftly unbuttoning his jeans. 

“Open up,” he says, practically prying your mouth open, just giggling when you bite at him.  “If you bite me,” he says, two fingers shoved deep in your mouth, “I promise, I’ll give you something to be fucking scared of.” 

You were right.  You will never see the colour blue the same way again.  You will never be able to settle for anything less than Felix again. 

With a whimpery sigh, you relent, blissful as your mouth falls open.  He shoves his clothes out of his way, just enough.  He is rock hard and wet at the tip when he guides your mouth around his dick.  He cradles your head gently, even if the rest of him is not gentle.

You moan, your pussy literally twitching for attention as he shoves into your throat and makes your eyes water.  You take him well and he groans, pulsing in your mouth when tears start running down your face.  He fucks your mouth and throat, a back and forth that has your seeing stars.  Eventually he pulls back, laughing as runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, baby,” he says.  He reaches down to wipe a tear.  “I wanted to do that the second you started mouthing off to me.”

“Asshole,” you say, though it comes out with a giggle. 

He laughs, sliding down your body to get between your legs. He gets your shorts and underwear out of his way, kissing across your pussy and up your stomach.  He lifts your shirt and crosses your breasts with his mouth, leaving little bite marks in his wake.

With the hand cuffed to yours, he interlocks your fingers sweetly, pressing it into the mattress.  Then he swoops up.  He kisses you, his tongue a soothing touch after everything. 

You moan, literally shaking with need as he smiles against your lips.   He speaks in that low, rasping voice when he says, “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you realize you’re gonna come all over my cock.” 

“Oh god,” is your rough reply. 

“It’s Felix,” he says.  “You’re gonna be screaming it in a second, aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

He has a condom in his bedside drawer.  Though you see him put it on, he still leans down to dirty talk, holding your throat as he whispers, “Was gonna be nice and wrap it, but you don’t like it nice, do you?”  He spreads your legs with his own, pushing down with his hips.  You whimper when the head of his cock glides over where you are very wet and very needy.  “No, sweetheart,” he says.  “I’m gonna have all of you.  And you – are gonna – take it.” 

He punctuates this with short thrusts, gradually easing inside you.  You moan, canting your hips to meet him, needing more.  When he starts fucking you in earnest, your whole body gets pliant like it never has before.  You let him hold you, tethered to him by the handcuffs and something else, something to do with those feelings inside you.  You let them melt into the physical sensations.  When he touches you, working you into an orgasm while he is deep inside you, it all washes over you.  You come with a cry, screaming his name just like he said. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he says.  Your bodies are flush together, chests touching, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist.  His face is in your neck when he laughs.  It is not a fake laugh, not coloured darkly, but ringing with true amusement.  “What’s your name?” he asks.

You laugh too, whispering it against his mouth when he leans in to kiss you.  He groans, kissing you, and says your name against your lips when he comes.  It binds you to him more effectively than the handcuffs. 

You lay there for some time afterward, all that pent-up adrenaline taking its time to dwindle.  He lays on your chest, your free hand in his hair, stroking it.  Eventually he looks at you with wide eyes. 

“I’m not, you know, like that, I mean—” he says. 

“I know,” you reply, massaging the nape of his neck.  You get uncharacteristically bashful.  Usually your partners, being more dominant, are the ones offering consolation to you, and you seldom need much.  Felix, you can tell, needs something, and it draws something out of you that you hardly knew existed.  Something tender and soft, that enjoys touching him and soothing him and making him smile. 

“Do you still have that, uh, feeling?” he later asks. 

You nod.  He smiles. 

“Me too,” he says. 

“That’s nice.  Can we get the handcuff key now?” you ask, making him laugh. 

The handcuffs end up on the floor with your clothes. 

This is usually the part where you run away, but you think you are done with running for a while.  You lay down with Felix, side by side, washed in the neon blue light.  You take a breath and roll onto his chest, resting your head there, and he runs a hand down your back in a soft caress. 

“I’m just glad I didn’t wax for no reason,” you break the silence, making him snort.  He slaps a hand over his face, shaking his head.  “What!  Don’t look at me like that or I’ll try and sneak into another concert when you’re on the clock.”

“Mm, will you?” he asks, grinning.  “I better be prepared.” 

“Oh no, I’m not messing with you.  I’m picking an easier target next time.”

“I’ll find you anyway,” he says.  “Can’t hide from me, sweetheart.”

“Hmm,” you say, hiding your face because that squishy feeling in your chest is back.  “I still won this round.” 

He lifts your face so he can look at you.  Your eyes close when he swoops in and kisses you.  You can’t even pretend to be annoyed with him anymore.  Vexatious vixen, indeed.   

“I think,” he says, “we might have tied this round, sweetheart.” 

“Fine,” you say.  You kiss again, long and sweet.  Then you bop him on the nose.  “But next time it’ll be me.”

He sighs but smiles, shaking his head.  Then he cups your face and pulls you in for another kiss.   

[eevees-hobbies]

Hello! 1. your writing is AMAZING and 2. Sorry for this long request.

Can I request experienced!Reader x virgin!Sakura smut (or you can make it that he doesn't have that much experience as the reader). Sakura and the reader have always done things like heavy makeout sessions and him receiving bjs. He starts to feel bad because he hasn't eaten her out yet and he doesn't want to disappoint her, she always tells him to take things at his pace and that she will always be there for him when he's ready to take things further. So he asks the guys for advice on how to eat her out and then during movie date night at her place he's acting more flustered/nervous than usual and she notices. He then confesses that he wants her to feel pleasure to and that the reason why he hasn't done it yet is because he doesn't want to disappoint her but he wants to try and eat her out. You can have them go all the way after or just leave it at that. I'll be happy either way😊😊. Thank you in advance!!!

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your kind words! This was fun to write and I hope you enjoy this. I’ll always enjoy writing for Haru, so this request was very much appreciated.

Synopsis: Sakura loves the fuck out of you, so maybe that’s why he’s asking his friend, Hayato Suo, to help him get better at initiating oral sex. Totally normal things happen to an orange, but it’s all worth it in the end, right?

Content Warning:  experienced!FemReader x inexperienced!Sakura. defiling of fruit, sexual education in a public place, pray (and perform a wellness check) for Suo’s girlfriend, dirty talk, insecure Sakura, harmless teasing, use of pet name baby girl, cocky Sakura makes an appearance at the end (because I can’t help myself), I curse a lot in my writing, cunnilingus, fingering, brief p in v. I’m on my usual bullshit, but at least the writers block is gone! Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 3.1K

Story banner by me. Dividers by Firefly Graphics. As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

“The first time we held hands, I thought my head would explode.”

“I see. Go on…”

“The first time we made out, I….” Sakura looks away, a crimson blush making its way past the collar of his white tee and up his neck. “I could hear my heart beating in my ears or somethin’ cliche like that.”

Suo couldn’t help but feel the corner of his mouth twitch upward at his inexperienced friend’s confession. Still, he knew better than to poke at Sakura. He was attempting to be supportive, and supportive friends don’t tease their friends during bouts of insecurity—much. When Suo had received a text message from Sakura the night before indicating that he had an urgent request, he knew he had to temper his usual faux-cheerful demeanor and provide his friend with whatever he needed.

But he wasn’t expecting this conversation.

Sakura shifts uncomfortably in the booth across from Hayato, his eyes now darting down to his knuckles, which always seem permanently purple and red with bruises and fresh knicks. “And the first time she….you know…”

Suo’s eyebrow quirks up, expecting Sakura to elaborate further, but he doesn’t. To prompt Sakura to continue, Suo clears his throat and carefully navigates the next sentence, “I don’t really know what you mean, Sakura. Care to be a bit more specific?”

Sakura lets out a frustrated scoff, but he knows that if he wants Suo to help him, he’s going to need to give him details—details that he had fully intended to always go to the grave with.

“The first time she gave me head…”

The cup of tea that Suo was bringing up to his lips shakes ever so slightly, but he offers a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and provides a supportive nod. 

“Oh?”

Sakura sighs, figuring it’s too late to hold back now; he dives into the issue, ready to be judged at best, and laughed out of the restaurant at worst. “The first time she gave me head, I swear to fuckin’ god, if there is a god, I fell in love. But she’s always….doing stuff to me, and I haven’t done much for her.”

Suo nods, places his cup of tea down, and looks thoughtfully at his friend. “Sounds like you’d like to return her…kind gestures.”

Sakura runs a hand through his hair and nods, “Yeah, that’s it. I want to do stuff to her instead of her doing stuff to me, but I don’t know how to-”

“Initiate?”

“Sure.”

The silence that settles between the two is deafening. Sakura shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and Suo can’t help but look at his friend with sympathetic eyes. Usually, he’s the first one to tease Sakura, especially involving his relationship with you, but this feels different. Suo’s eyes wandered to an orange currently serving as a garnish on the small plate of untouched Omi Rice Sakura had ordered. “May I?’

Sakura shrugs, unsure what he plans to do with a piece of fruit. Doesn’t he see that he’s in crisis and Vitamin C can wait?

Suo grabs a knife and cuts the citrus down the middle, exposing the soft center. Discarding one half, he holds up the other to curious, dual-colored eyes. “Do we need to go over the basics of female anatomy? Like the labia and clitoris?”

Sakura sputters as he hears his friend say words he’s only heard you—his girlfriend—say. His eyes dart to the nearest escape route, but Suo's firm kick under the table brings his attention back to the scene in front of him. Sakura looks away in frustration and gives a curt nod, indicating that, at the very least, he could point to certain parts of your body and identify them.

He wasn’t THAT far gone. 

Suo nods, “Well, I’d say the battle is half-won, then. Let’s talk about what women like, shall we?”

Suo brings a finger up to the center of the orange where the small opening glistens with droplets of juice that are now dripping languidly down his fingers. The scene before Sakura is practically obscene, and the irony of Suo using fruit for his sexual education lesson that looks similar to your intimate area does not fly over his head, even though he wishes it did. 

As Suo points to the plump center, his finger gently strokes the small hole. “Some people immediately think it’s a good idea to force their fingers in with little thought to foreplay, but that’s crude, hostile, and not the trait of a good partner. In fact, bullying your fingers in could very well hurt her, so I personally like to take a few hours to get my girlfriend aroused.”

Hours?! Sakura doesn’t think he can come near being the type of libido-beast that Suo is. He briefly gives a silent prayer for his friend's partner but leans in nonetheless to listen intently.

“Now, the tip of your tongue can be rather overstimulating at first, so remember that the clitoris deserves to be kissed, too. Your lips are your ally.”

Sakura swallows thickly as he tunes in and watches his friend defile an orange in Cafe Pothos. As his cheeks burn, his fingers twitch, and his cock hardens as Suo goes into great detail about how much pressure the clitoris can take. Sakura can’t help but think that he must be absolutely, horrendously down bad for you to deal with this shit.

“I can’t BELIEVE she was Lady Whistledown this entire time!” 

You reach for the remote to select the next episode of Bridgerton, but a lack of response from Sakura, who is sitting on the couch next to you, causes you to look over. You can sense that what you just said didn’t register because he seems lost in thought, his thumb placed between his upper and lower canines as he chews on the skin aggressively.

“Kitten?” You turn your entire body to face him, worry already etching across your face. 

His eyes look up at you, and the faraway look quickly dissipates as he gives you a grunt.

“You’ve been distracted all night. Should we head to bed, or can we talk about it?” You offer him a gentle smile, hoping the bond you share will be stronger than any secret he may be keeping from you. You watch as he visibly swallows, his adam’s able bobbing as he turns to you, and he lowers his now mangled thumb to rest in his lap. The way he avoids eye contact, the way the air now feels somewhat stale with unspoken words, has your breathing slowing and you preparing to hear the worst. 

“Let me…eat you out.”

You blink once, twice, and then several more times as you stare at each other. You place a gentle hand on his knee, and your confused eyes meet his vulnerable ones. “Sakura, what the absolute fuck?”

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. You can see a pout practically form on his lips as he fights the urge to end the conversation. But Sakura is a man on a mission, and he continues. You have to lean in to hear what he mumbles but as his mouth moves, you realize you heard him clearly the first time. “You give me head almost every day. I’m tired of not reciprocating.”

Everyday, Sakura? Let’s be real. Sure, you like giving your boyfriend head but your jaw isn’t permanently attached to his cock. You give him a blank stare before responding and trying to keep your voice light and without a hint of sarcasm–and god, you REALLY want to be sarcastic right now but you’re a good girlfriend.

“Sakura, our relationship isnt about keeping score, especially in regards to our intimacy. I don’t count how many blowjobs I give you,” you pause as you realize you just spoke a lie. “Well, maybe I do count, but only because I have an ego, and I’m trying to beat a number I set in my head.”

Sakura’s eyes squint and he holds back the urge to ask further questions about your perverted personal goals. “That’s so weird. Anyway, it isn’t about any of that. I want to do it. I think about doing it a lot.”

You tilt your head to the side, your ear facing him a bit more because did your boyfriend, the one who was emotionally stunted when you met him, admit to fantasizing about you? “You think about eating me out? Say more, please.”

“Fuuuuuck, why are you so-. Fine! I think about it when you’re on the couch with your legs spread–I mean, sure, it isn’t lady-like–but it’s hot and I think about just getting on my knees and…”

“I might pop you for the lady-like comment but I’ll refrain because you made me tingle.”

“Shut up and…spread your legs.”

You purse your lips, stifling a giddy giggle at your boyfriend using his stern voice. You shimmy out of your sleep shorts and throw them haphazardly to a corner to be forgotten about until who-knows-when. 

Putting on a brave front, and as though he’s done this many times before, Sakura rises from the couch and perches himself between your legs with his knees firmly placed on the plush rug on the floor.

You bite your lip—his gaze is unyielding and smoldering. You aren’t surprised at how hot your face is getting under his stare; it’s almost enough to make you clamp your legs shut and call the whole thing off, but you couldn’t if you wanted to as his hands, which are placed firmly against your inner thighs, grip you like you’re being held open in stirrups. 

“It's nothing like an orange…”

“A what!?”

Before you can say anything and before you can back out, Sakura is leaning forward, his breath is hot and fanning against your labia. For some reason, you need to look anywhere but at the top of his head as his tongue slips past your folds and swirls small circles around your clit. His hesitancy is palpable, making you a bit insecure until he pulls back, an earnest but determined look in his eyes, “Am I doing ok? Does this feel…right? I’m trying to imagine an orange, but it’s completely different.”

Weird recurring comments about oranges aside, you realize he’s not hesitant because of you. He’s hesitant because he’s worried that he isn’t doing a good job. He’s hesitant because, above all else, Haruka will always desire to impress and please you, and anything less is unacceptable to him. His inexperience has always been a non-issue for you, but to him, it’s a crutch and another way he feels like he doesn’t deserve you. 

Your gaze softens and you give him an encouraging smile. “You’re doing amazing, Kitten.”

The corner of his mouth twitches upward and with a dignified nod, he dives back between your thighs. Your praise fuels his desire to please you—and that fire burns bright, and the cautious licks before are replaced with suckles and tongue swipes that are far more confident. 

Your head falls back to rest against the cushiony headrest of the couch. Your hand finds the back of his head and pushes him in further, encouraging him to get lost in you and risk drowning. Sakura doesn’t mind the threat of suffocation as he considers it a worthy way to go. Still, he thinks you’re getting a little too cocky, and humbling you is his favorite pastime, so the gesture earns a playful nip to your thigh from Haruka, which in turn makes you giggle.

“Can’t you be serious for once? I’m trying to eat you out down here.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Kitten.” Despite your snarky come-back, you give him an encouraging moan that’s brought upon by open-mouthed kisses against your clit. Sakura willingly entwines his long fingers with yours, his thumb tenderly stroking the inside of your palm.

His other hands grips the plush of one of your thighs and pushes them forward, pressing them against your stomach and allowing himself the unbridled access he craves to get as deep as his tongue will reach. His licks become far more aggressive as he takes the time to map out your cunt through eager exploration. He commits every one of your sinful moans and gasps to his memory and revels in the way in which you get increasingly louder for him. 

Each one of your cries makes his cock twitch, and he finds himself having to adjust himself in his jeans. The scent of you, the sound of you, is simply intoxicating. You, to Haruka Sakura, are everything and then some. Your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s going to take that fact out on your cunt which is growing increasingly more sloppy just for him. 

Something that felt intimidating only hours ago now feels natural to Sakura as he drags his tongue across your clit, smirking as he feels it swell and twitch under the assault of his muscle. 

“You’re dripping for me. We might need a new couch after I’m done with you.” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes because fuck, why is he so-oh! Yeah, that’s the spot. You nod in agreement as you spread your legs wider to give him better access. “Y-yeah, a trip to IKEA is definitely in the future, I think.” Without little to no warning, he pushes two fingers into you so deeply that his knuckles kiss your entrance. Haruka’s fingers curl, and the sound of him twisting them inside you makes a lewd, wet sound, the kind that would make anyone blush. 

The pads of his fingers rub against the bundle of nerves deep within your aching sex. Sakura lets out a satisfied grunt as he strokes the spongy bundle of ridges. He doesn’t need an orange to see that this is what you like, all he needs to do is look down at the way your toes curl or watch as your eyes roll back and you bite into the plush of your bottom lip.

“Holy fuckin’…just relax for me. Don’t act like we haven’t been here before, at least.”

You let out a pathetic whimper, the sensation of being filled up almost threatening to push you over the edge, and he fucking knows it. He’s doing this on purpose, stroking you like this, making you more sensitive than you already are as you drip into the palm of his hand.

You look down to give him a glare, but you can’t help the squeak that leaves your lips—his intense gaze is set on you and threatening to light you ablaze. He stands up so that he’s kneeling over you, his face mere inches from yours, as he continues to push and pull his fingers in and out of your fluttering sex. 

“Look at you….a fuckin’ mess. Look me in my eyes while you use my fingers to get off.” His eyes are scanning your face in predatory reverence, they flicker down to your lips as you let out a low guttural moan. “That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me.”

Your heart palpitates dangerously as he uses a pet name that feels so intimate you want to melt into the couch. Your bottom lip quivers as you begin to buck your hips to meet the motion of his fingers, but it’s hard to keep up when he’s finger fucking you like he owns every inch of your cunt.

“Tch, what are you trying to prove by holding out?” His lips ghost against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, his tongue darting out to lick and suckle at the sensitive flesh. 

“You’re practically milking my fingers right now. You like every single inch that I give you, don’t you? You get so hungry for just a touch.” His voice is husky, his words only making you ache and arch more as the cocky, ex-Bofurin leader goads you on.

His mouth finds its way to the curve of your neck as he presses his lips against your quickened pulse. The proximity and gesture feels tender until you feel his teeth sinking into your skin, sending a delicious, searing pain shooting through your very being. “Cum like a good girl so I can bend you over this fuckin’ couch.” His voice is hoarse and coursing with his desire for you, and he’s not asking you to let go for him, he’s demanding it.

Your face, despite being contorted into pleasure, heats up because who the fuck talks like that? 

Haruka Sakura does. 

You groan, pressing the palm of your hand against the nape of his neck and pull him forward so you can give him the physical and verbal praise he seeks–your moans fill his mouth and your hips grind against his hand to roll out your orgasm in desperation. He eagerly presses his palm against your clit, adding more pressure to the sensitive bud that takes your breath away as he continues his curling, pushing, and pulling of his fingers.

You let out a final moan into his mouth and the smirk that forms on his lips as they press against yours does not go unnoticed. You haven’t realized it, or maybe you have, but at that moment, you created a monster. He now knows you better than he ever did and will use it against you every chance he can. He may be unable to commit to hours of foreplay, but he can guarantee that every second in which he’ll have you spread open for him will have you looking at him exactly as you’re looking at him right now. He’s committed to your pleasure moving forward and makes absolutely no apologies for it. 

“Theeeeere she goes. Now was that so hard?” Your half-lidded gaze meets his arrogant and pleased one as he pulls away, his hands already moving to unbutton his jeans. “Guess I’ll start to keep a number in my head to beat now, too.” 

You don’t have time to react before he’s turning you around and positioning so that you're offering yourself up to him and he’s adjusting himself between your spread legs.

And Sakura is truly pleased with himself as he places a hand on your lower back to steady you as he slides into your welcoming warmth. His eyes roll back because you fit him sooooo fucking well. Like a goddamn glove, and fuck, you feel even better with his saliva dripping out of you. 

Who the fuck needs store-bought lubricant when you could just produce your own with spit? Moving forward, Sakura fully intends to put Astroglide out of business. 

As the loud squelches and airy sounds of his cock spreading you in half fills the air, Sakura reflects on how he got here. 

He can’t help but give a mental thanks to the orange that made this all possible–and he guesses, also Suo, but mostly the orange.

[nerdallwritey]

About to Strike (Part 1)

***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: ONCE AGAIN I've yapped too much and this chapter became longer than tumblr likes, so I've split it into two posts. It's the same drill as Cheeks All Flushed: The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!

Summary: Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink.  He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?” “Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira. Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well.  “Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet. “You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms.  OR The gang finally makes their way into the Shadow Cursed Lands.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 21.3k (This particular part is 10.7k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, oral (male receiving), hand job, vaginal fingering, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, protective Astarion, soft Astarion, whimpering Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), lots of party banter, AND JAHEIRA!! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 and 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 6 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: SURPRISE! Part 6 is COMPLETE and she's A LOT. The back half is mainly smut and feelings and Astarion processing emotions a little which we LOVE to see. I hope to the gods that you guys find this to be a good followup to Worth the Peril, but I'm excited to FINALLY be in Act 2 and get into the big romantic scenes that happen there. Thank you all so much for sticking around and loving this goofy version of Astarion and his favorite bard :) You guys are the best and I adore and appreciate every single one of you! Please enjoy these silly little vignettes from the end of Act 1 and the start of Act 2! (Thank you as always to my beta @kermitwazowski for reading!) As a reminder, last time you got Mega Hurt in a fight and Astarion kind of took that personally.

Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!

“Would you relax?” you whispered sharply to the vampire currently brooding to your right.

“How can I be when this… ancient woman just tried to murder you?” Astarion threw a dramatic hand forward, gesturing to Jaheira, who was walking in front of you towards the Last Light Inn. You all had just arrived at the well lit sanctuary in the Shadow Cursed Lands, only to be interrogated by the High Harper, and vouched for by Mol, who’d managed to find her way here as well.

“I handled it,” you hissed. “It’s going to be okay.”

“While I admire your optimism, darling, I still don’t trust her.”

Karlach buzzed behind you, clearly in disbelief. “Mate, you must be joking. That’s the Jaheira!”

Astarion slowed his pace a bit to meet Karlach’s eye. “And, I take it, you know the old crone?”

“Astarion!” Wyll sounded surprised. “You’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate longer than I have! And you don’t know the tales they tell of Jaheira and her party of adventurers?”

Your crew of seven came to a halt in front of a moss covered fountain to gawk at the elf.

He clicked his tongue. “Mmm… that’d be a no.”

“He’s lying,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

“I am not!”

Gale lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Come now, Astarion, surely you’ve heard passing tales of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate? Or perhaps read a book of their exploits?”

Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. “I do not know of this ‘Jah-hee-rah’ person. Her heroics must not be that impressive if I have never heard of her.”

“Nor I,” Halsin cut in.

“Yes, well, being freakish outsiders from the Astral Plane and the middle of the forest will deprive you of basic history lessons.” Astarion crossed his arms.

You snorted. “So what’s your excuse?” The others snickered. 

Astarion placed an annoyed hand on his hip. “Did you all forget that I was kept as a slave for two hundred years of pure misery and torture?”

The group remained silent for a moment before you stepped forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re still not over that?” 

He smirked. “Would you believe it’s taking me a little longer than one might expect?”

“Shame,” you pouted. Then you looked at Karlach who was angling her head around the fountain to track where Jaheira had gone. “You want to enlighten these three, Karlach?”

Karlach looked back at you all and her eyes lit up with glee. “Oh, yes please!” She rolled her shoulders and bounced on her feet as if she were preparing for battle, rather than recounting basic Baldur’s Gate history. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “Years ago - over a century-”

You turned to Astarion and caught his eye. A century! your expression seemed to say.

Astarion shrugged his shoulders up to his ears and unwrapped one of his crossed arms to hold dramatically in front of himself. So what?

You rolled your eyes. So you should have been there!

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. I don’t know what to tell you.

You huffed some hair out of your eyes and tuned back in to what Karlach was saying.

“-Jaheira was part of a group that saved Baldur’s Gate from Seravok - a Bhaalspawn trying to plunge the city into war.”

Once again, you caught Astarion’s eye. “And you don’t recall any of this?”

He pursed his lips as the others turned to look at him. “Now that you mention it, I vaguely recall tensions being rather high around the city all those years ago.”

“Liar,” Shadowheart accused again. “It had to be more apparent than that. Why don’t you just admit you know who Jaheira is?”

Astarion’s response was venomous: “I was kept on a very tight leash, thank you, so apologies for not getting the names of the heroes who ‘saved’ the city that kept me enslaved for another hundred years.” 

You approached him quietly and took his hand. He scowled at Shadowheart but wrenched his gaze away to look at you. His expression softened mildly.

“It’s okay,” you said gently. “I’m sure she would have come for you and your siblings had she known.”

“Yes, probably come to kill us for being abominations,” he muttered, but squeezed your hand anyway.

“Ah, don’t be like that, Astarion,” Wyll said cheerfully. “I’m sure she would have helped you! You’re quite fun once you get past all the prickly bits.”

“Gee, thanks,” Astarion said flatly. 

Karlach took the awkward silence that followed as an opportunity to keep fangirling. “My mum used to tell us stories all about them - the legends who protected the city from evil. She said Jaheira was a powerful druid. Adamant. Tough.”

“Probably a good ally to have on our side,” you said. Your companions nodded in agreement.

“I’ve told myself those stories thousands of times since,” Karlach continued. “I never thought I’d meet Jaheira. She’s a hero, and I was always… some Outer City kid.”

“Well, excellent news, Karlach,” Gale said. “Given our circumstances and the path we currently find ourselves on, it’s quite possible that we might be considered heroes one day.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “We don’t even know what we’re up against yet. It is likely some of you will perish before we are able to slay this unknown enemy.”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “Charming as always, Lae’zel.”

“I am not charming. I am merely stating fact.”

Halsin cleared his throat. “Another druid you say, Karlach?”

Karlach grinned and nodded. “She’s the best! Can’t believe she wants to talk to us about working together. What a day!”

And what a day it had been. 

Or, tenday, more like.

~~~~~

The day after you’d told Astarion’s sleeping form that you loved him, he’d been nothing but clingy. 

You awoke to find him still curled tightly into your side, but now he was fully awake, his eyes wide and unblinking. It was unnerving.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

He blinked rapidly before an easy grin rested on his lips. “Just making sure you still have a pulse, darling.”

You snorted. “Checking on your food supply, I see.”

Astarion angled his head to nuzzle his nose along your throat before kissing your pulse point. “What can I say,” he murmured against your skin, “we vampires have two instincts, as we learned from that book yesterday: ‘feed and make little vampires.’” He scrunched his face into a silent roar, baring his fangs and forming one of his hands into a claw. He slashed it through the air playfully.

“Yes well, the latter probably won’t be happening for a little while,” you said, shifting to sit up, but wincing in pain over the wound in your torso. 

Astarion was rolling off the pillows within seconds and coming around to help you sit up. His eyes were concerned, but he pouted and his voice was teasingly whiny when he said, “Pity.” He rested his forehead against your temple. “I do so miss being inside of you.”

You nearly choked on your own spit, which had him pulling away from you and laughing. 

“Whatever,” you muttered, watching as Astarion pulled his shirt over his head. 

“Hungry, my sweet?” he asked, still smiling.

“You’re really freaking me out,” you said, giving him a sideways look, “with how nice you’re being.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Fine. Starve.” With that, he exited your tent with a theatrical swoosh of the flaps that acted as a door.

You exhaled a disbelieving laugh, watching as the flaps swished back and forth before settling back into their closed position.

“SHE’S WHAT?!” you heard Karlach shriek, followed by loud, bounding footsteps approaching your tent. 

Astarion called after her in annoyance, “Don’t bother her!”

“Soldier!” Karlach’s head and shoulders popped their way into your tent. “So happy you’re awake!”

“Hi Karlach,” you laughed. “I’d get up but-”

Karlach shook her head. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m sure Shadowheart and Halsin will want to change your bandages and pump you full of potions but… I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” you said. “Thank you for helping while I was unconscious.”

“You’d do the same for any of us,” she said earnestly, still on her hands and knees in the entrance of your tent. 

You heard a dull thump outside that had Karlach yelping in surprise. 

“Out,” came Astarion’s sour tone, his tongue putting extra emphasis on the “t.”

Karlach looked back over her shoulder and then over to you. “He kicked my boot, the bastard! Proper hard, too!”

“I’d do a lot worse if you weren’t a walking furnace.” Another thump informed you that he kicked Karlach’s boot again.

Rather than retreat, however, Karlach settled her elbows into the dirt and rested her head in her hands. “Ask nicely.” She met your eye with a mischievous grin. 

You heard Astarion squawk incredulously. “Darling, tell her to move!”

Clearing your throat to keep from laughing, you said firmly, “Astarion. Be nice. That’s my dear friend, Karlach, you’re kicking.”

He muttered something you couldn’t make out, followed by a loud groan. 

Through gritted teeth, he said, “Dear, sweet, Karlach-” 

“Liking the sound of this,” Karlach nodded.

“-would you be so kind as to remove your humongous form from the entrance of my lovely bard’s tent?” It sounded as if the words were causing him physical pain.

Karlach looked back at you. “What do you think, Soldier?”

“He could probably do better,” you said with a smirk. But it was then that your stomach decided to growl loudly. 

“Woof,” Karlach said.

You could practically hear Astarion’s eye roll. “You know, if you let me in, I could remedy that little problem you’re experiencing.”

Karlach slanted her mouth to the side. “He’s probably right, Gale left behind a bunch of-” she waggled her fingers, “-magic-y warm food for you before he, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Wyll headed out this morning.”

You cocked your head to the side. “And you didn’t go with them?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked. “And miss you possibly waking up?”

You smiled at her fondly. “That’s very sweet of you.”

“Besides, I don’t trust myself around all the explodey mushrooms down here.”

Astarion cleared his throat loudly.

“Alright, Fangs, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Karlach looked over her shoulder at him before looking back at you once more. “Let me know if you need anything. You know where to find me.” She pointed to her temple, referring to the tadpole connection, and winked. She crawled backwards on her hands and knees, purposely taking her time, before she fully exited the tent. 

Astarion took her place instantly, crawling into the space with a plate of steaming scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, bread, and a pair of healing potions. He placed the entire thing on your lap, along with a fork, before settling onto the ground next to you. 

You blinked at him. “Breakfast in bed?” 

He scoffed. “It isn’t as if you can join us at the breakfast table.”

Smiling softly, you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you, my love. This is very kind of you.”

He still scowled, but his face softened when he took your hand from his cheek and kissed your palm. “I expect the same kind of pampering in return if I’m ever to practically die as foolishly as you.”

You laughed before picking up the fork and stabbing some egg. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

~~~~~

And for the first few days, it did feel like pampering: Astarion staying by your side at all times - reading to you, laying with you, changing your bandages… He only ever left to feed himself. He refused your blood, citing that you needed it more than him, even though your bleeding had slowed to a halt by the third day. 

It all felt very nice.

Until you felt well enough to get back on your feet.

The others had dutifully been wrapping things up in the Underdark; defeating monsters, freeing deep gnomes from their drow and duergar slavers, rescuing the halfling woman’s husband, and exploring an abandoned wizard’s tower and the temple to Shar, to name a few. Lae’zel had even gifted you a new longsword she’d found, Phalar Aluve - a sword with the ability to sing or shriek - claiming that this weapon would not have allowed you to be wounded as fatally, had you had it during the duergar battle in the decrepit village.

On the day they raided the Zhentarim cache Astarion had mentioned all those days ago, he’d remained dutifully by your side, much to your dismay and protests that you’d be fine without him for a few hours.

“Absolutely not,” he’d said, looking down his nose at you. “As if Halsin or Shadowheart could care for you as properly as I have.”

“You forget,” you’d responded, mildly annoyed, “that they’re the ones who taught you how to care for me.”

“And I’m the one who shall continue to care for you,” he huffed, finishing changing your bandages once again. By this time, you could sit up on your own with mild to no pain at all. You were perfectly capable of changing your own bandages, but Astarion had insisted on continuing to help you. 

You supposed it was nice that he wanted to take care of you, given how much he usually hated being responsible for anything, but he was taking the job a bit too seriously.

Luckily, Karlach and Lae’zel had lugged some chests they’d been unable to open at the Zhentarim storeroom back to camp, allowing your beloved rogue to take part in the raid, despite not attending himself, and thus allowing you a moment of peace to roll off your pillows and put on fresh clothes without his help.

You emerged from your tent to look at the spoils from the storeroom, standing up straight and walking on your own. Astarion hadn’t noticed at first, too busy fiddling with the lock of a particularly large chest, but the commotion created by your companions forced him to look in your direction. 

“You’re up!” Wyll exclaimed.

“Do you need any help?” Gale snapped the book he was reading closed.

“Give her some space,” Shadowheart said, assessing you with her eyes from a few feet away.

Astarion got up and hurried over to you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You smiled at him reassuringly. “I promise I feel well enough to be out here. I just wanted some fresh, Underdark air.” You looked over his shoulder at one of the open chests. “Find anything good?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Nothing worth you getting out of bed for.” He looked you up and down and noticed your change of clothes. He sighed. “I could have helped-”

“I’m fine,” you maintained, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking him directly in the eyes.

Halsin approached the two of you and nodded approvingly. “It is good for her to be up and moving around. It’ll stretch the healing muscles and allow her to join the fray again much more quickly than if she stays in bed all day.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Oh, what do you know?”

“Astarion,” Shadowheart said in warning. “If she says she’s okay, let’s believe her. I’m sure she’ll tell you if something’s wrong this time around, right?” She made pointed eye contact with you. 

You held up your hand as if swearing an oath. “I promise.”

He watched you closely, narrowing his eyes and sniffing pompously. “Fine.” 

He made no move to leave your side.

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the chest he’d been working on, the thieves’ tools still stuck inside the lock. You patted the top of the chest and said, “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

Astarion watched you carefully before he made his way back to the chest and sunk to his knees. 

Not far off, Lae’zel was polishing her greatsword. “Does this mean you are well enough to accompany us to the crèche?”

“Well, I-”

“No,” said every other person at camp at once.

“Chk,” Lae’zel thrust her greatsword into the dirt in front of her. “Heal faster.”

“Trying my best,” you said with a shrug. 

Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to assessing her greatsword.

“If you’re going to be up and about,” Shadowheart said, “you should probably start packing up your belongings for when we need to enter the Mountain Pass.”

“Augh!” you exclaimed loudly, clutching your side. Astarion was up immediately and you leaned your weight on him, throwing your arms around his neck for support. “So sorry, Shadowheart,” you said in a fake strained tone, “my wound… it prevents me… from hard labor…” You flopped fully into Astarion’s side, closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue as if you’d just perished on the spot.

“Oh good,” Astarion said blandly, “she’s finally dead and I can get on with my life.”

You kicked him.

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. “Such a shame she’ll never be able to annoy us again.”

“I’ll haunt you forever…” you murmured, wobbling your voice like a ghost.

 Shadowheart stepped forward and patted your arm. “I’ll ask for blessings from Lady Shar on behalf of your passing.”

“Thank you…” you murmured again.

Astarion bumped his hip into yours forcefully. “Would you get off of me?”

You pulled back and smiled at him. “See? I’m fine.”

He humphed and returned to unlocking the big chest, only to find it full of more thieves' tools. He sighed heavily and rested his forehead on the edge of the chest. You peered inside and laughed.

“Aw,” you said sympathetically and patted his shoulder. “I’m going to get some food.”

“Let me-” 

“No,” you said firmly. “Keep going through your useless chests, my love. I’ll be right over here.” You walked over to the makeshift kitchen area Gale had set up. 

Astarion watched you go, and you felt his protective eyes remain on you for the remainder of the night. 

~~~~~

It was like that now: Astarion trying to do things for you while you insisted you could do them on your own. 

It had bewildered you when he actually helped you pack for your trip back to the surface. He had little to pack of his own, given that he’d more or less lived in your tent throughout your stay in the Underdark. He was relentlessly cautious with you, insisting that Gale cast Fly on you so that you didn’t have to ascend the impossibly long ladder back up into the Goblin camp. And he rarely let you out of his sight, even when safely surrounded by your other companions. 

The Mountain Pass was beautiful: bathed in what seemed like permanently golden light that had Astarion blooming in the sun’s glow once again. When your group accidentally stumbled into a hostile party of undead while looking for a place to camp, Astarion had taken your hand and pulled you behind him to shield you with his body. 

“I can help!” you’d pleaded, watching your friends sling spells and swords at the skeletons.

“Let us handle this,” Astarion had growled, slashing his daggers through a ghoul that came a little too close to you for comfort. He kept you both to the outskirts of the fight.

Try as you might to help, Astarion held you back, glaring at you for drawing the attention of a ghast when you cast Thunder Wave in its direction. You gave him an apologetic smile before he fatally stabbed the ghast in the chest. 

Bloodied and burnt out, you and your companions finally found a decent place to camp, close to the monastery that Lae’zel was sure housed the crèche. She took the lead on making a plan to enter the building and find the cure that had been promised to her all her life. You sat by the fire, listening idly to her plans, knowing full well that no one - except maybe Lae’zel herself - wanted you fighting so soon after your injury. You also knew that, should the cure be legitimate, your friends would happily accompany you back into the crèche where you could have the tadpole removed. You chose not to linger on the thought of your adventure possibly coming to an end so soon.

Unsurprisingly, Astarion sat by your side, mending a pair of pants. His knee was pressed lightly into your upper thigh as he hunched over the fabric to see his thread better. 

“You could be doing that in my tent, you know,” you said quietly, watching his fingers nimbly weave the fabric back together with needle and thread. “It’s probably easier to see what you’re doing surrounded by candles from all sides than just this fire. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

“I’m quite skilled at seeing in darkness, thank you,” he said, not looking over at you.

You exhaled softly and leaned your head on his shoulder, effectively stretching your right side, which housed your wound. He paused momentarily, then kept going. 

“I’m okay,” you said softly, barely audible above the roaring fire and the heated discussion of possible battle strategy amongst your companions a few feet away. “I’m not going to get hurt like that again.”

Astarion sighed and halted his work on the pants. “You can’t promise that,” he said, sounding annoyed. He spoke his next words quickly, equal parts irritated and vulnerable: “You have no idea what’s coming and neither do I or any of us and I know you’re capable of protecting yourself but the least I can do right now is make sure you heal properly and don’t get hurt again because if I lost you… I wouldn’t know what to do.” He cleared his throat and looked back down at the fabric in his lap. “Or… whatever.” 

You smiled softly and lifted your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. “I adore you.”

He exhaled an amused breath through his nose. “You’re fine, too.” 

“Thank you for looking out for me.”

He sighed dramatically. “It’s been dreadful.”

You laughed. “I can’t even begin to imagine the sacrifices you’ve made.”

He brought his hands up to count on his fingers. “I’ve barely slept, I’ve been drinking animal plonk as opposed to your delicious vintage, I’ve hardly killed anything in the last few days, and I haven’t been able to sleep with you for just as long, if not longer.”

You were glad he wasn’t looking right at you, otherwise he’d surely see the flush on your cheeks. “You’ve been sleeping with me nearly every night.”

He nudged your unwounded side with his elbow. “You know what I mean.”

You smirked. “I miss you too,” you said. “And I’m sorry. You don’t need to be giving up all of that for me.”

He leaned his head on top of yours which had found its way back to his shoulder. “Just… heal, would you? You wretched thing.”

You reached your hand to rest on top of his knee. “You must be starving.”

“In more ways than one,” he growled teasingly in your ear. 

“I’m serious.”

“As am I. But your blood stays off limits until I’m sure you’re done bleeding.”

You made a frustrated noise. “I haven’t bled in days, you stubborn leech. And you nearly killed me the first time you drank from me, so really, what’s the difference?”

“Yes, but we weren’t us back then. You were just some bard that I crash landed on a horrid beach with.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed through pursed lips.

Now Astarion bent to kiss your cheek. “I’m just being extra careful, my sweet.” He moved his mouth to your ear. “And… it’ll be all the more exquisite when I finally taste you again.”

“Ah,” you said. “So you’re edging yourself.”

Astarion sputtered, “That’s not-” Then he smirked. “And what would you know about edging?”

You swallowed thickly. “Enough.”

He chuckled darkly. “Noted.”

It was quieter now, as your companions had dispersed to their own tents to prepare for tomorrow’s journey to the crèche. 

Still, Astarion kept his voice down. “I have an important question for you though, my darling.”

“And what would that be?”

“Whose belongings should we peruse first tomorrow while everyone’s gone?”

~~~~~

The only interesting items you’d found while snooping around camp the next day were cheap erotic novels hidden among both Shadowheart’s and Wyll’s possessions. 

Everyone, minus Halsin, who was sticking around the edge of camp planning a way through the Shadow Cursed Lands, had made their way to the crèche only a few hours before. 

“‘The Salty Mermaid,’” you’d said, waggling your eyebrows at Astarion who was rifling through Wyll’s tent. 

“You’ll never believe this, darling.” He turned to show you the same book, its illustrated cover even more worn than the copy you’d found in one of Shadowheart’s bags. 

“Shut up,” you said, leaning forward to snatch the book from his hand and holding the copies side by side. Both depicted a shirtless man gazing into the eyes of a beautiful, topless mermaid, her torso turned tastefully away from view. Their mouths were parted slightly in anticipation of a steaming kiss, ocean mist spraying over them and the rock they were perched on in the middle of the ocean. Wyll’s copy looked as though it had been read dozens of times over the span of many years, while Shadowheart’s was newer and gave the impression that it had been opened frequently, given the way the cover refused to rest against the first page.

“This is outrageous,” Astarion said, sitting behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at both books. 

You turned your head to look at him. “Didn’t take those two for naughty book lovers?”

“What? Oh, no, everyone in this camp is a deeply sad, depraved creature, that’s not it.”

You snorted. “Okay, so what-”

“It’s that they didn’t think to include us in their little book club!” His hand gestured wildly between the covers. “You and I read all the time!”

“We don’t know they’re reading them together,” you pointed out. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

Astarion looked at you skeptically. “Do you really believe that?”

You thought for a moment. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Your nights had been occupied spending time with the man currently wrapped delicately around your midsection. You couldn’t be sure that your companions hadn’t started a book club without you. It brought a small smile to your face, imagining your friends bonding with each other without your help.

Astarion didn’t wait for you to answer. “Let’s at least see what all the fuss is about.” He leaned forward slightly, careful not to jostle your right side and took Wyll’s book from your hand. He flipped open to a random page as you set Shadowheart’s book on your lap. You leaned your head against his, which was still resting on your shoulder, and read along with him. He tilted his head slightly to read slowly and seductively in your ear. 

“Fabian ran his calloused fingers along Allura’s scales. Her tail quivered in response.” He held out the “s,” as if hissing, and nipped at your ear.

You flinched in surprise and smacked him gently on the side of the head. 

He chuckled and continued. “‘Taste me,’ Allura pleaded. Fabian smashed his lips against hers and their tongues twisted together like two eels in the Sword Sea.”

You barely withheld a laugh. “Trying to seduce me with eels again, I see.” 

Astarion narrowed his eyes, rereading the passage in disbelief. “Oh, gods dammit.”

You nuzzled the side of his head with your own. “It’s working better this time,” you admitted.

“Oh?” Astarion pulled back and met you with a wicked grin. 

You nodded and watched his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you before pulling back just out of his reach. He opened his eyes and gave you a puzzled expression. 

“I didn’t say it worked completely.” You pushed his nose lightly to turn his face away from yours and back to the book in his hands. 

“Why you-” He dropped the book unceremoniously and brought both his hands to your cheeks to kiss you firmly. You laughed against his mouth before giving in and opening up for him.

“Astarion,” came Halsin’s voice from a few yards away. 

Astarion immediately disconnected the kiss and shot a deadly glare at the bear. 

Halsin hadn’t been looking. Instead he’d been focusing down at what he was holding - a half carved piece of wood, something that was beginning to look like a rabbit. When he finally looked up, he halted in his tracks. 

“My apologies,” he said, holding his hands up in a showing of peace, “I merely wanted to ask Astarion for a better knife. It appears my proper carving tools are lost somewhere within our wares.”

“Hi Halsin,” you said nonchalantly. 

Halsin chuckled. “I didn’t mean to disturb your fun.”

“Fun? What fun? We never have fun.” You nudged Astarion who was still staring daggers at Halsin. 

Astarion sighed and settled his chin back on your shoulder. “Relax, darling, I’m sure Halsin knows all about the kind of fun we have together.” 

Halsin nodded. “Far be it from me to interrupt a spry couple preparing to partake in one of nature’s greatest gifts.”

“Ugh,” Astarion groaned in disgust and you felt your cheeks go red. “You make it sound awful.”

“It’s only natural-”

“Did you check our Traveler’s Chest for your carving tools?” you desperately tried to change the subject. “It’s possible one of us packed them in there by mistake.”

Halsin snapped his fingers. “Of course! And the Traveler’s Chest would be…”

You pointed in the direction of the chest, which was thankfully on the other side of camp. 

Halsin followed your gaze and nodded again. “I shall investigate the chest. Sorry once again.” He started to leave the two of you but turned back around.  “Remember to be careful of your wound.” He gestured to your right side and you absently held your hand to the tender area. “Nothing worse than an injury worsened in the throes of passion.”

“Goodbye, Halsin,” Astarion waved him off. 

Halsin chuckled once more, then left the area. You and Astarion remained silent for a moment, watching him go. 

You looked over at him. “Moment over?”

“So incredibly over,” Astarion lifted his chin from your shoulder and crawled around to sit next to you. “But the druid’s right. You’re still hurt.”

You huffed some hair out of your face. “And you’re still a drama queen.”

Astarion gasped and held a hand to his chest dramatically. “How dare you.”

“I’m fine!” you insisted. “Watch this!” 

You stood and leaned your body to the left, stretching your right side and lifting your right arm over your head.

“See?”

Astarion cocked his head to the side. “Impressive. Now stretch the other way.”

You remained upright and ramrod straight. “I don’t want to.”

“Because…?”

“Because…” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck you! You know why.”

“Because you’re still sore-”

“Yes, because I’m still sore.” You sat beside him again and muttered, “killjoy.”

Astarion stood and reached for your hands, holding them in both of his own. “Call me whatever names you like, it won’t change my mind.” He leaned forward and kissed you softly. 

You frowned at him. “Asshole.”

Kiss. “Darling.” 

“Bat brain.”

Kiss. “Beautiful.” 

“Priss.”

Kiss. “My- hey.” He pulled himself back to look down his nose at you. “I’m not a priss,  I’m simply surrounded by frumps. And Shadowheart.”

You scoffed and reached up to brush your hand through his curls, mussing them ever so slightly. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed, pushing you away and reaching up to fix his hair. 

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him. 

He glared back and rolled his eyes. “Did I not just call you ‘beautiful?’”

“One of your frequent pet names,” you waved him off playfully and went to pick up Shadowheart and Wyll’s discarded books. “It means next to nothing.”

Astarion turned to watch you. “That’s not true.”

You laughed. “You call everyone ‘darling.’” 

“That’s different.” 

“How so?”

If he were still alive, you’d be able to feel his body heat as he stepped closer to you. He looked up towards the sky and moved his hands around as if searching for the correct words. 

“‘Darling’ has always been a lovely blanket term of endearment for victims whose names I didn’t bother to learn but needed to entice.”

You stiffened, thrown off by his honest answer. “Oh.”

He met your eye. “People like feeling seen, and ‘darling’ does the job quite nicely. Call it a habit now, I suppose.”

You smirked at him. “You know my name, right?”

He smiled sideways in return. “Who are you again?”

“Good answer.”

“Honestly though, darling,” he said, before shaking his head and saying your name instead. “‘Darling’ isn’t anything special to me, that’s true,” he placed his hands firmly on your upper arms, just below your shoulders, “but you are.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying but failing not to shrink under his intense gaze. “Another good answer.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. “Look at me, please.” 

You met his eye again and saw his features soften. 

“I’ve never called someone ‘beautiful’ and not meant it.”

You raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really. In all the times you had to seduce people, you never called someone you weren’t attracted to ‘beautiful’ just to make things go faster?”

Astarion rubbed absent minded circles into your arms with his thumbs. “In those instances, I preferred referring to them as, ‘striking.’”

You snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

“I could say ‘dead serious,’ but that would be atrocious, so I won’t.”

“‘Striking,’” you repeated, laughing a little at the vagueness of it. “I guess that could mean anything.”

Astarion nodded. “Exactly.” He shifted his hands up to your shoulders. “But you, my sweet, are exquisite.” 

You smiled shyly. “I could say ‘aw shucks,’ but then you’d kill me, so I won’t.”

He pushed himself away from you again. “You are infuriating.”

Dropping the books once more, you reached for his wrist as he backed away. “No, no, I’m sorry,” you said as you brought his hand to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me more about how beautiful I am.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before his features settled into a seductive grin. He reached forward and pulled you closer by the waist. His voice was low and flirtatious when he said, “I told you on that first night I had my way with you that you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” He shifted his head to nip at your ear, “I meant that.”

A shiver went through your body and you closed your eyes. “Really?”

Astarion scoffed. “I wouldn’t willingly attach myself to just anyone, darling.” He kissed your neck. “For one thing, there’s this gorgeous neck of yours.”

You let out an amused sigh. “Go on…”

“Your eyes,” he said, shifting up to bear his crimson gaze into yours, “they sparkle like anything. I can’t say I’ve ever seen eyes more lovely.” You blinked at him, unsure of what to say. He continued, “Especially when you’re laughing. Preferably at something clever I’ve said.”

That made you laugh. “You’re not always as clever as you think.”

He smiled back at you. “So long as I keep seeing that dazzling smile, I shall make a fool of myself.” After a beat, he clarified, “But only for you.”

If you weren’t careful, you might cry. “You sweet, stupid man.”

“Speaking of that smile; that mouth of yours. I could eat you right up.” 

He bent to kiss you deeply but you pulled away to giggle. “And you have!”

“And I have,” he agreed, succeeding in kissing you this time. 

Your mouth moved against his slowly, keeping in time with him, and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. As the kiss became more intense, his tongue licking into your mouth, your heart picked up speed, which sent Astarion groaning against your lips.

“That delicious heartbeat,” he said dreamily, breaking the kiss. “It’s as sweet as any song you’ve ever played, my love.”

Your eyes shot open as he brought his face down to your throat again to kiss your pulse point. Based on his body language and the sensual way he continually kissed your neck, you had a feeling he didn’t realize what he’d said. He kept talking.

“Your heartbeat means you're alive,” he placed a kiss on your collarbone. “And that you’re here,” a kiss to your chest. “With me,” a kiss atop your clothed left breast, above your pounding heart. “Not to mention it’s the source of my favorite meal,” he pulled back to look at you with a goofy grin that he quickly morphed into one of seduction. When he saw your bewildered expression, his face fell into one of concern. “What is it?”

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, attempting to keep your composure. “Astarion,” you said, your voice full of adoration, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s wrong?” His tone was instantly serious and stern. “Did something happen?” He inspected your right side as if you may have started bleeding again. 

Laughter bubbled out of your chest at his sudden shift in demeanor. This man cared for you so deeply it almost hurt. And it was so blatantly obvious to everyone but himself.

“There’s nothing wrong, dummy,” you said, tapping the tip of his nose to bring his attention back to you. 

He looked at you questioningly and saw nothing but affection in your eyes. “Then…” he leaned in closer, drawn in by the softness of your features, “what is it?”

You leaned in as well, watching his mouth and subconsciously wetting your lips in preparation for what you were about to say. “I…” you eyes began to close, “lo-”

“Tsk'va!”

You and Astarion froze, your mouths inches apart. 

“That wasn’t you, was it?” he muttered. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, swatting his cheek lightly and pulling away.

Lae’zel was standing not too far off, covered in blood, staring at the two of you with an intense ire that had you both nearly jumping away from each other. “You feeble wretches are delighting in intercourse whilst the Lich Queen lies to her kin about purification and I nearly lose my life as a result.”

Astarion straightened and looked at his nails, bored. “Oh, is that all?”

You gave him a look before stepping forward to offer comfort. “What happened?”

Lae’zel looked between you and Astarion before furrowing her brows and marching off to her tent. “She may yet purify me!” she called angrily, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone.

The rest of your party stumbled into camp not far behind. They, too, were drenched in blood and looking worse for wear. You approached them immediately, Astarion reluctantly on your heels. 

“Is everyone okay?” you quickly looked over everyone and didn’t note any major injuries.

“We’re alright,” Wyll assured and nodded to Shadowheart, “no thanks to Shadowheart.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she groaned. “Let’s see if we survive the night.” She gestured towards Lae’zel who was angrily shedding her armor and shrieking frustratedly with each discarded piece.

You looked back at the others and repeated, “What happened?”

“Our little dream visitor had some rather enlightening news for our githyanki friend,” Gale sighed, wiping his brow. 

“Well hang on now,” Karlach said. “Her people, or rather, some random doctor lady, tried to kill her first!”

Wyll nodded solemnly. “Not to mention that fearsome god of hers threatened our lives.”

You inhaled sharply. Even Astarion looked surprised. “What?”

“Why do the gods favor you people?” Astarion crossed his arms. “They never answered me when I called.”

“Now, now, Astarion,” Gale said, “this was not a meeting on the most benevolent of terms.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “So were you able to kill her or something? Is that why you’re all drenched in what smells like an absurd amount of gith blood?”

“Kill a god?” Wyll laughed lightly. “Be serious, Astarion.”

The vampire shrugged. “I don’t know what you lot are capable of, we just met.”

“‘Just met?!’” Shadowheart scoffed incredulously. “And you think you could have taken on a god? You and what? Those sharp teeth of yours?”

“If you’d like to see what they’re capable of, darling, you need only ask.” He flashed her a malicious grin. 

“Astarion,” you caught his eye and shook your head slightly. 

“If killing that overgrown creep were an option, I gladly would have taken it,” Karlach punched at her open palm. “I can’t stand bullies.”

Halsin now entered the fray. “Peace,” he said calmly. “Everyone should get cleaned up and inspected for injuries, then we can discuss the events of the créche.”

You turned to look for Lae’zel, but her tent was empty. You assumed she’d gotten a jumpstart on the cleaning process. 

“Why is my book in the dirt?!” Shadowheart exclaimed. “Astarion!”

“I think it’s time I go for a hunt,” Astarion kissed you swiftly. “You can handle this, can’t you darling?” Then he took off at a brisk pace down the side of the mountain. 

~~~~~

After Lae’zel and the others had cleaned themselves up and bandaged their shallow wounds, you’d all sat around the fire to discuss what had occurred at the crèche and what the dream visitor had told Lae’zel of Vlaakith’s deception towards the purification process.

That night, Kith’rak Voss and his group of rebel githyanki warriors had visited you and your companions, telling you all that the Astral Prism held the key to Vlaakith’s undoing. He’d also promised to explain more and provide help once you reached Baldur’s Gate. 

“Why must they always be so cryptic,” Astarion had muttered to you from where you stood behind Lae’zel, allowing her to take the lead on this. “If the Prism is a source of unnamed power, then I think we have a right to know about it.” He pouted and you elbowed him lightly. 

As you were preparing to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands the next day, Elminster appeared, bearing a message for Gale from Mystra. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you’d steamed after the old wizard left, “you’re not blowing yourself up, Gale. I won’t let you.”

“She’s right,” Astarion agreed. You turned and gave him a surprised look. He shrugged. “Sacrificing Gale to the Absolute is a waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling.” When you rolled your eyes, he amended, “And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.”

“I am touched, Astarion,” Gale said before turning his attention back on you. “Let’s save such certainty about my fate for the moment such a decision is upon us. You may feel differently, once we know what we’re truly up against.” 

Thus your party kept packing up in preparation to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands, which Halsin had discovered an entrance to, not far from your camp. 

Upon entering, the suffocating nature of the dark hit you instantly, and you felt a shift in your party the more you shuffled into the area. 

Astarion held out an arm to stop you from going any further, away from the lit fire you’d found near the entrance. “Can you feel that?” 

“You mean the impending sense of doom?” Karlach asked. “Yeah, I feel it.”

Astarion ignored her. “The dark, it’s… hungry. Best watch the shadows.”

Lae’zel scoffed. “How can darkness feel anything, let alone require sustenance?”

“That’s not-” Astarion sighed. “Oh, nevermind. Just… stay close to the light.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Wyll said, grabbing a torch from the lit fire near the entrance. 

Shadowheart gazed into the distance, straining her eyes to see into the dark. “This place… there’s power in these shadows, I can sense it.”

Astarion snorted. “Shadowheart feeling one with the shadows. A little on the nose there, darling.”

Shadowheart shot him a deathly glare that had him look over at you for protection. You patted his shoulder in response.

“She’s right, though,” Gale agreed. “I’ve never seen such a concentration of shadow magic. We must forge on, but carefully. It will corrupt any who lack the power to control it.”

“Best get a move on, then,” Halsin siad, grabbing a torch in one hand and your party’s ox cart with the other. 

Wyll took the lead with his torch, while the rest of you grabbed your own. You and Astarion brought up the rear as you all made your way through the darkness. He was uncharacteristically quiet as you went. 

“Everything okay?” you asked him quietly, making sure the others wouldn’t be able to hear you. 

Astarion’s eyes were darting around, on high alert, but he looked over at you when you reached for his free hand with your own. “It feels like we’re being watched,” he said, returning his eyes to scanning your surroundings. “Hunted, even. But there’s nothing out there,” he looked in your direction but was focusing on the darkness behind you, “only more darkness.”

You nodded, and joined him in scanning the surrounding area. 

“I much prefer it when I’m the one prowling in the shadows, about to strike.”

“Ooh,” you said, shaking your voice as if telling a scary story, “scaaaary.”

Astarion looked at you with a scowl that you could see was concealing a laugh. “Sorry, did you want something?” He stepped closer to you, bringing his face inches away from yours. “Or just looking for a distraction?” He looked down at your lips. 

“I-” you looked at his lips as well and watched as his mouth formed into a grin. 

“Look alive, lovebirds,” Karlach turned back to face you two. “Movement up ahead.”

Instinctively, Astarion pulled you to him, shielding your right side with his body from possible attacks.

It was then that your party came across a group of Absolute worshippers, seeking passage across the Shadow Cursed Lands to Moonrise Towers with the help of a drider named Kar’niss, who brandished a magical lantern of some kind. You all played along, brandishing your True Soul statuses in order to gain favor and join the cultists on their journey deeper into the shadows. You even offered to play the Spider's Lyre, which Wyll had found and given to you in the Underdark, in order to summon the drider. 

Astarion made it a point of keeping you close, despite the cultists giving you no trouble.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, bumping his hip with your own.

He scoffed. “Oh, so you trust the arachnid is totally sane and won’t turn on us at any given moment?”

“Well-” He made a good point. While Kar’niss had done nothing to prove he was an imminent danger to you, his words were erratic and he’d snapped at you earlier for offering to carry his lantern.

“Wait…” Kar’niss hissed suddenly, holding his lantern aloft in front of what appeared to be a long abandoned house. “Something’s wrong, Majesty.”

“He’s right,” Astarion said quietly, drawing his daggers, “I can sense blood pumping in that building.”

“Should we do something?” Wyll asked.

“Shhh,” Shadowheart hushed. “We don’t know where they are, exactly. Do you want them to spring out at us while they still have the element of surprise?”

“Not particularly,” said Wyll, just as Lae’zel said “Yes,” and drew her greatsword from her back.

“Who’s there?” Kar’niss called. “Show yourself!”

From within the house came a male voice, shouting, “Harpers, attack!” 

“Harpers?” Karlach repeated.

The man continued yelling orders. “Kill the cultists… and get that lantern!”

“HERETICS!” Kar’niss shrieked. “VILLAINS IN THE DARK!”

“Soldier,” Karlach turned to you, a frantic look in her eyes, “Those are Harpers!”

Your own eyes widened. Harpers were known for protecting the innocent from evils across the realms. It made sense why they would want to attack cultists of the Absolute. 

“Wait!” you shouted and ran forward as Astarion called your name, trying to stop you. “We can help!” You spoke to the man leading this gang of Harpers.

The man looked you up and down as Astarion approached you with his knives still drawn, ready to pounce. “Hurt her, and you die,” he growled, dropping into a low stance.

You exhaled. “Sorry about the guard dog.”

“Careful,” Astarion said lowly, “I bite.” He gnashed his teeth at the group of Harpers surveying you closely. 

A woman with long curly hair stepped forward. “Prove we can trust you.”

You nodded and took your lute off your back, strumming a quick tune that had the deep purple magic of Shatter sparking at your fingertips. You turned back towards the cultists, who were now sandwiched between the Harpers and your party. You friends took the hint and drew their own weapons. 

“What are they doing?” Kar’niss eclaimed. “We thought they were True Souls! Traitors! Heathens!”

“Darling, are you sure about this?” Astarion asked, watching you carefully, checking for any signs that you weren’t ready to fight. 

You looked over at him and winked, casting a powerful Shatter that sent the cultists flying in every direction. 

The battle that followed was thankfully not as bad as it could have been, thanks to the help from the Harpers. Astarion had remained by your side the whole time, maneuvering the two of you out of the way whenever an attack landed closeby. He dutifully shielded your right side, stabbing the hobgoblin rather brutally when he lunged at you. 

When the battle ended and it was clear that no one had been injured too severely, you approached Kar’niss’ lantern and picked it up. Its chilly glow appeared to protect you all far better from the Shadow Curse than your long since discarded torches. 

The male Harper who you’d pleaded to at the start of the battle now approached you. “Incredible magic,” he said, indicating the lantern. “I can feel the light lifting the shadows - even those within me.”

Astarion laughed quietly at his remark, and you kicked the vampire in the shin. 

“Find us at the Last Light Inn,” the Harper said, pulling out a map and pointing to a small building by the river. 

“Thank you,” you said, marking the location on your own map.

“Be safe,” he said with a nod. “And be brave. We expect no less. Thank you for your help.” With that, he and his other Harpers made their way deeper into the shadows, accompanied by their own torches. 

“Could we not have gone with them?” Karlach asked.

“Probably had other Harperly duties to take care of,” Gale reasoned. 

“We should probably start heading that way anyway,” you said. “My magic’s depleted and I could use some sleep.”

“Agreed,” Halsin said, stretching his arms above his head and grabbing the ox cart once again. “It will be a relief to rest these weary bones upon a mattress for once.”

“Hmm,” Shadowheart mused, “is grass not cutting it for you anymore?”

“Far from it,” Halsin said. “But even I can appreciate the pleasures of a warm bed every once in a while.”

~~~~~

“Unfortunately, there is only one room available,” Jaheira said flatly when you all entered the inn and approached her at her desk.

Astarion scoffed. “Didn’t you just say outside that there were beds, plural, if we needed rest?” 

“It would seem I lied,” she said, looking through a book that you assumed showed current room assignments. “Oops.” She didn’t sound remorseful. “Looks like you’ll have to decide amongst yourselves who gets the room. The rest of you can make camp in the back. There’s plenty of room under Isobel’s light to keep you sheltered from the Curse.”

“Thank you, Jaheira!” Karlach said excitedly.

Jaheira smiled at Karlach’s enthusiasm and held out a goblet of wine to her. “Please,” she said, her tone suddenly very kind, “be welcome.” She handed a goblet to you as well. “Have a drink.”

“Oh my gods,” Karlach muttered, sharing an excited look with you. 

“To your very good health,” Jaheira said, raising her own cup towards all of you. 

Karlach was practically vibrating with excitement next to you. 

“You’ll have to excuse my friend, Karlach,” you said with a smile. “She’s very excited to meet you.”

She giggled, embarrassed. “Tsh. Yeah.” Her face fell just then, as if realizing she wasn’t being formal enough with her hero. She stooped into a low bow. “I mean… It's an honor. M’lady.”

“I will gladly drink to your health as well, Karlach.” Jaheira’s eyes sparkled with amusement. 

You raised your goblet to mimic Jaheira’s and went to take a sip, but were instead met with the back of Astarion’s hand. Your mouth crushed against his skin.

“You did not seriously just take a sip from a drink given to you by a stranger,” he said in horrified disbelief. 

“I was trying to,” you offered Jaheira an apologetic smile. “I wasn’t expecting to kiss the back of your hand,” you said through clenched teeth. 

Astarion took the goblet from you. “Give me that.”

Karlach had been just about to take a sip, but thought better of it and watched Astarion. 

He sniffed the contents of the goblet. “Klauthgrass,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose. 

“It doesn’t spoil the taste,” Jaheira offered, “if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and shoved the goblet back into your hand, training his own hands above his sheathed daggers. “She’s trying to feed you a truth serum.”

“Astarion,” you said calmly, as if soothing a startled animal, “it’s okay.” You set the goblet down and reached for both of his hands, pulling them away from his daggers. “She just wants to protect her people. You can respect that, can’t you, my love?”

“Ah,” Jaheira nodded. “‘My love.’ It is admirable that the cub wants to protect his mate.” 

“She’s not-” Astarion sputtered. “We’re just-” He groaned loudly. “I don’t trust you,” he pointed an accusatory finger at the Harper. 

“Oh no,” her tone was flat again. “How ever shall I sleep tonight.”

Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink. 

He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira.

Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well. 

“Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet.

“You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms. 

Shadowheart laughed. “Isn’t the whole reason you’re being so dramatic because your mate almost died?”

“Watch yourself, cleric,” his words were icy, but Shadowheart couldn’t contain her snort.

Jaheira took another sip. “Well over a century old and yet it hasn’t lost a hint of its flavor.”

“Let’s have a taste, then,” Wyll pushed his way forward and took the goblet from you.

“I must see for myself if Astarion’s suspicions are warranted,” Lae’zel took Karlach’s goblet, “and if the wine is as good as this woman says.”

“No, no,” Astarion said sarcastically, “let’s all partake in the poison! Shadowheart? Gale? Halsin? What’s stopping you?”

Shadowheart crossed her arms. “I’ve packed my own wine that I don’t plan on sharing with you all, thank you very much.”

Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be reading a book he’d found discarded somewhere in the bar. “Pardon? Is something the matter?”

Astarion rolled his eyes and turned to Halsin who held up his hands in surrender.

“I rarely imbibe, the stuff goes right to my head. I doubt anyone wants to see that.”

“Mmm, yes, save it.” Astarion turned back to you and the others. “So we’re all going to tell the truth now, that’s great. Go ahead, Jaheira, ask away.”

“There’s an air about you,” she said, addressing you instead of the seething vampire to your right. “Something… alien.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Astarion muttered.

“Answer me true and do not lie,” she didn’t flinch when Astarion scoffed, and pressed on. “The parasite is changing you, isn’t it?”

You could feel the effects of the serum willing your mouth to form a truthful answer. You let it. “It’s trying to change me. To win me over. But I’m resisting its temptations.”

Jaheira looked you up and down. “And you’re certain you will continue to resist?” 

You nodded. “Yes.” The truth.

“Good,” you saw Jaheira’s shoulders relax. “I will take your word for it. And hold you to it, too.”

You looked over at Astarion, whose arms were still crossed. He scowled at Jaheira who turned to address him this time.

“I have every reason to be cautious.” She exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I’ve traced people like you.”

“Oh, have you.” Astarion rolled his eyes for what was likely the tenth time this evening.

Jaheira tilted her head. “People with parasites in their brains. All the way here from Baldur’s Gate.”

“A long journey, indeed,” Gale said.

Astarion laughed humorlessly. “Good of you to finally join us, Gale.”

Wyll cleared his throat. “And what of the city?” 

Jaheira turned to him this time. “The cult of the Absolute is spreading through the Gate. Quietly, quickly, and with unsettling deliberation.” 

“Gods…” Wyll breathed. “My father…” Gale patted his arm reassuringly.

“We tracked them to this ancient village,” Jaheira looked down at a map in front of her displaying the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands, and pointed to a village not far off, “only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago.” 

“Who was - is - he?” you asked, furrowing your brow. 

Jaheira paused briefly when she saw Karlach yawn. “General Ketheric Thorm. Remember that name. He’s the leader of the Absolutists.”

“How can we help?” you stepped forward, determined.

“Ugh,” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really, my sweet, is now the time to be playing hero?”

“The vampire is right,” said Jaheira. “We can save this discussion for the morning.”

“Vampire?” Astarion repeated, laughing lightly. “What do you- I’m not-” He slumped. “What gave it away?”

She smirked. “Nearly everything about you. And I have experience with your kind.”

You and your companions snickered, and Astarion shot you all death glares. 

“Yes well… it’s been such a delight chatting with you, Jaheira, but I think now’s the time to discuss the room situation.” Astarion turned around so that his back faced Jaheira, effectively cutting her out of the conversation. 

She laughed. “When you decide who gets the room, it’s next to the bar, on the right.” Just as she was about to leave and take care of other matters, she turned back. “Do keep it down if it’s you two who get the room,” she gestured to you and Astarion. “The walls aren’t as thick here as you think they are. Those sitting around the bar will hear you and tell me all about it and I’d… prefer to remain in the dark if it’s all the same to you.”

“Jaheira!” Astarion scoffed. “What do you think of me?”

“Prove me wrong, vampling,” she winked at you and went on her way.

Shadowheart placed her hands on her hips. “Go on, Astarion. Make a case for why the two of you are in desperate need of the room.”

Astarion looked at his nails. “Well, darling, it’s just that we’ve had such little time to ourselves-”

Halsin interrupted. “I’m… going to set up camp outside. I yield my claim to the room and will gladly sleep under the stars. Or… I suppose there are no stars here. Regardless-” he turned on his heel and walked out the front door to reunite with your ox cart full of camp supplies.

“I’ll join him,” said Wyll.

“Right behind you,” Karlach agreed.

“Okay,” Gale looked around at those remaining. “That leaves four of us, considering you two as a unit.” He pointed between you and Astarion, the latter of which looked offended, but you grabbed his hand and squeezed it before he had a chance to argue.

Lae’zel adjusted her greatsword in her arms. “It is tradition among githyanki that those who performed best in battle should have the most comfortable sleeping chambers.”

Gale furrowed his brow. “Is that true? I’ve yet to read anything about that in my extended research on the githyanki people.”

Lae’zel shrugged.

Shadowheart spoke next. “It’s just that I drained so much of my magic healing everyone on the battlefield today. I think I deserve to sleep in comfort to replenish my power since we have no clue what tomorrow brings.” Then she quickly added, “Since we’re in her domain, I’d say it’s as if Lady Shar herself wills it.”

Astarion snorted. “Like hells she does.” He turned to Gale. “And what’s your excuse?”

“The knees,” Gale said, bending his knees for you all to hear an audible crack. “Too many nights on the ground will do no favors for one’s aching joints.”

You could see where this was going. There would be a constant back and forth until a loud argument inevitably broke out in the middle of the inn. You knew it was a bit devious, but you decided to get the jumpstart on ending the argument. 

You took Astarion’s hand. “Come on, Astarion,” you said with a sigh, “we can rough it outside for another night.”

He didn’t budge. “You can’t be serious, darling.”

“I am serious- Oh.” you paused in trying to get Astarion to follow you and reached for your right side. “Ow,” you said slowly.

Astarion said your name, his voice laced with worry.

“Oh gods,” you blinked your eyes several times, tears filling your vision.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Astarion brushed hair out of your face and placed his hands on your cheeks. 

“I don’t know,” you said shakily. “I suddenly got a sharp pain in my side. I think my wound may have opened again.” 

“Oh for gods’ sakes,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes and held out her hand to scan you for injuries with her magic. “You know what, if it’s that important to you, you can have it.” With that, she left after the others.

“Are you alright?” Gale asked. 

“I know what would make her feel better,” Astarion said, catching on to your ruse. 

“Do not say the room,” Lae’zel glowered at him.

“The room,” Astarion said anyway. 

“Chk,” she spat. “Fine. Have your precious alone time. But when they kick you out for pleasuring each other too loudly, I get the room in your stead.”

“Uh… if that’s the case, she can have it after you two.” Gale smiled painfully. “I shall concede as well. If only so I can grab some shut eye without your loud-”

“Ooowww,” you moaned.

“Good gods, man!” Astarion exclaimed, clutching you to his chest as if you were made of glass. “How can you think of sex at a time like this! My precious treasure is wounded!”

“I mean, Lae’zel alluded to it first-” Gale pointed to where Lae’zel had been standing, only to see that she had already left. “Ah. I guess I’ll take my leave as well.”

“Ow! Gods, it hurts!” you wailed.

“Get out of here!” Astarion practically yelled at the wizard.

Gale sighed. “Goodnight you two.”

“Goodnight Gale!” you called after him sweetly.

When he turned back to look at you, you were limp in Astarion’s arms, one of your own arms thrown dramatically over your eyes.

“Now look what you’ve done!” It was Astarion’s turn to wail. 

“Alright!” Gale turned and held up his hands in frustration. “I’m going!”

When he was finally gone, Astarion pulled you into him for a long, passionate kiss. “You are the perfect woman,” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll have to remind you of that the next time I annoy you,” you laughed and took his hand, leading him to the room.

Jaheira’s voice sounded from the second floor, “I would appreciate it if you did not yell while my Harpers and our guests are trying to sleep.” Despite her stern tone, her expression revealed mild amusement. 

“Sorry, Jaheira,” you whispered loud enough for her to hear you from the railing she bent over. 

“Good night, cubs.” She waved her hand and left you and Astarion to settle into your room.

~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (WHOOPS!) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.

[cepheustarot]

Your karmic task in this life

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: As the cards show, you are one of those who tend to trust public opinion and adapt to it, the opinion of those people whom you consider to be an authority is important to you, and what matters to you is how you look in the eyes of other people, how you present yourself, what they think of you from the outside. You hear a lot of voices, but you don't hear your own, you can even suppress or ignore. Here your karmic task is to pay attention to yourself, listen to yourself, because you have a very well-developed intuition and you know best what you need in this life. You need to change your priorities and at least try to listen to yourself, question other people's opinions about your life. You could also feel for yourself that if you listened to someone else, took their advice into account and acted on their words, then everything went awry, you did not move forward, but there was a feeling that you were standing still or even moving backwards. As soon as you start paying attention to yourself, your thoughts and desires, then all the doors will open in front of you, nothing will hinder you, but on the contrary it will only push you into action and help you realize your desires and dreams.

Pile 2: You are probably one of those people who rarely finish what they started, you tend to give up after the first setbacks and never come back to it. Perhaps you are prone to perfectionism, strive to do everything perfectly the first time, it is important for you to be a successful person with great achievements, so you react sharply to your own failures. Here your karmic task is to learn not to be afraid of mistakes and failures, not to be afraid to look stupid and uneducated / ignorant, on the contrary, curiosity and the desire to learn something new should lead you ahead. You don't need to be too strict with yourself, to look up to someone else's result. It is very important to learn to be less strict with yourself, take care of yourself and move at your own pace. You can also be too categorical about yourself, it is important to learn how to recognize and use your talents and abilities, because you are a very smart and capable person. Don't be afraid to start something new and take on challenges, and don't be afraid to show initiative and self-confidence, you really can do a lot.

Pile 3: Most likely, you are one of those people who find it difficult to let go of the past, get rid of unnecessary things, and may be too attached to the material. You also prefer stability and tranquility in life, are reluctant to accept changes from the outside and cannot adapt to changes for a long time. Because of this, you prefer to keep everything under your control, because this way you feel supported by yourself and you feel less fear of losing something dear to you. Your karmic task is to free yourself from the fear of loss and the need to keep everything under control. Material things and some aspects of life come and go — this is a natural process of life. It is physically impossible to foresee all the consequences, all the changes in life, and thinking through further developments of events will only increase your anxiety and tension. It is important to learn how to take changes calmly, not to be afraid of them, to relax to some extent and go with the flow, because changes  ≠ something bad, they can be an opportunity to improve your life. You need to take into account past experience and be able to move on.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 💕

[yeollie-plz]

Watch It Spark | LTF Part: 2

mbf! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Part 1

Synopsis: Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?

Genre: fluff, angst, and smut! the trifecta!

Warnings: divorced parents, mentions of cheating, no Sarah, no outbreak, drinking, age gap (reader is said to be in college but Joel's exact age isn't stated), Tommy's a bit of a sleaze, kissing, 18+ content, p in v sex, (un)protected sex!, lots of different sexual acts, cursing, light breeding kink mention, cockwarming?

All gif credits to owners!

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I don't wanna make excuses but on top of being super busy, I also had severe writer's block. But! Here she is! Just in time for Pedro's birthday!!!

"Shit." Joel's voice sounded out behind you.

Turning, incredulously to him, "Shit? That's all you have to say?" Not even sure what to say yourself.

"I'm sorry baby, but I don't know what else to say. I think shit actually might be the perfect sentiment in this situation." There's a bit of playfulness laced in his voice as he crosses the room to you. But the fun drops as he locks eyes with you, grabbing your hands while rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs in a comforting gesture.

"Are you okay?"

Not sure what else to do, you nod.

"I mean it was inevitable, I just didn't think she would find out like this. Thought maybe I'd be able to ease her into it...maybe...I don't know."

Joel nods as you speak, “You’ll figure it out and she’ll come around, I’m sure. Whatever happens though, I’m right here.”

When you don’t say anything, Joel uses two fingers lift up your chin so your eyes now meet his. You see the certainty in them and he repeats, “I’m right here.”

With the mood ruined, Joel returned home to let you mull over your plan. It felt weird. How do you explain to your mother that you are currently dating her crush? Not something you had on your bingo card that's for sure.

That night you paced back and forth in your room until about 11 o'clock when you decided you just couldn't take the turmoil anymore. Your mom hadn't returned home. So instead of continuing to sit in your torment, you forced yourself to go to bed.

And when you awoke in the morning, there still was no sign of her. Sighing as you closed the door of her bedroom, you dragged yourself down to the kitchen. Your one last hope was that you could put together some grand breakfast for her and it would somehow lure her home. I mean she had to come home eventually anyway, right? She might as well come home to a yummy breakfast.

So there you were sitting alone at the table with a plethora of food laid out in front of you. Not wanting to eat without her, you sat there waiting. Now, almost an hour later, the food turned cold and the house was still empty. Sighing, you pushed yourself out of your chair, made a quick plate and popped it in the microwave to heat up.

As the time ticked down, you leaned against the counter watching it spin like it would make it go faster. The microwaved beeped to signal its end and that's when the front door swung open.

Abandoning the food once again, you rushed into the living room. Your mom's eyes locked onto you immediately as you crashed into the room. Her body visibly tensed up as she sighed at your presence.

"I-I made you breakfast." You rushed out before she could leave or you lost your nerve.

"Breakfast?" Venom dripped from her voice as she repeated your words.

Snapping your mouth shut, you gulped, trying to think of what to say. That's when she sighed again and closed her eyes, pinching her nose bridge as she tilted her head to the side.

"Sweetie, I'm not mad, but I'm also not happy-"

"-I know you liked him, it's just-" You cut her off, your words coming out quick, laced with your nerves. She held up her hand, to cut you off back.

"Let me talk, because honestly I don't want to hear anything from you right now." Another sigh, this time like she was preparing to give a speech, she was. "You got so hurt last time and with your father and I, I'm just scared for you. Sure, I liked Joel but it was never more than an infatuation. I'm not mad because he was never mine to get mad over. You know the night him and Linda dropped me off?"

You nodded in conformation, she continued, "I actually tried to kiss him that night." She laughs at her own stupidity. "He dodged it, playing it off like nothing happened. I'm sure he just didn't want to embarrass me by blatantly telling me he was in a-" A pause as she looks you up and down, tongue running across her front teeth. "-relationship."

You pulled your lip between your teeth as you listened to her speak. How could she be taking this so well? You were way too used to young people drama. People like your mom and Joel knew how to communicate their feelings. Honestly, it was relieving.

"Kind of weird to admit I almost kissed my daughter's boyfriend." Your mom says with anguish. Her face scrunching up in disgust as if she didn't find him attractive just days before.

She lets herself relish in this thought for a second, before continuing again, "I just hope you are keeping yourself safe. I know I already gave you the responsible talk but this is different. I just don't want to see you hurt like the last time."

You took a second to process her words. She didn't care who you were with, she just cared that you didn't go through what you did before. It warmed your heart and relieved a lot of the pent up stress.

"Mom, this time is different. Joel he, uh, he told me himself. I actually told him what happened." Your mom knew this was big for you to tell someone about the whole cheating thing and when you told her that, she visibly relaxed.

A smile graced her lips as she made her way over to her. She held your cheek in her head. You relaxed into the touch, closing you eyes in relief.

"You're happy with him, I can tell. So like I said I'm not mad. A little sad I missed my chance but there will always be someone else. He's good for you, I'm sure of it."

You smiled at her and leaned in to peck your forehead before wrapping you into her arms and holding you tightly. Her body heat radiating you with all the love only a mother had for her child. She pulled away a bit later, holding you at arms length.

"Although, the age difference is a bit much. That one took me a minute to get over." Laughs laced her voice as she spoke.

"I know, took me a bit to accept the initial attraction too but he's just so..." Your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. She only smiled to this and nodded.

"I understand, that's how I felt about your father when I met him too." A sad smile now formed as she looked down and you knew she was thinking about how it had turned out for her and him. Now it was your turn to comfort her as you rubbed your hands down her arms.

She shook the thoughts out of her head and sucked back the tears that were pricking her eyes. "Okay! Now, tell me everything. How you guys met! The first date! I want to hear everything."

Letting her drag you to the couch while laughing uncontrollably at her excitement. The rest of the day the two of you could not stop talking as you told her everything.

After hours of chatting, your mom finally called it a night. All but pushing you out the door to go see Joel. Mumbling something about how he must be on the edge of his seat. You giggled at her antics, it was almost unbelievable how quickly she had gotten over it and was now your number one supporter.

So now you found yourself knocking at Joel's door. When he opened it there was a small look of shock on his face.

"Wasn't expecting you to be over so soon, sugar." He said as he pulled you into a quick hug. Breathing in his scent for a second, you sighed, content.

"It went better than expected." Your words were muffled by his chest since you refused to release yourself from his grasp. Not like Joel was complaining.

"Good, I'm glad." He spoke into your hair before placing a soft kiss there. A second more of holding you before Joel is pushing you out to arms length. He searches your face for a second before bringing his lips to yours.

The kiss is slow, like he is learning the feel of them for the first time. It makes you putty in his hands. The stress that somehow was still all pent up inside of you, now finally melting away.

You felt safe. You felt loved. Joel was home for you and in that moment you knew that this was real. Joel was real.

And that night as you settled into his bed and into his arms everything in your past seemed to fade away. It was only you and him.

Smiling into his chest, you fell into a deep slumber.

The morning sun shining through the curtains of Joel's room woke you up. Reaching to the other side of the bed, you find nothing but cold sheets. Confusion washes for you for only a second in your half-awake state, until you hear the steady beat of shower water coming from the connected bathroom.

You take a second to lay in the silence, just listening to the drops of the water. Before an idea pops into your head and you are smirking to yourself.

Pushing off of the bed, you make your way into the bathroom, shredding off pieces of clothes as you go. Joel seems unaware of your presence so you are careful not to scare him too bad as you slide the shower curtain down the rod just enough for you to slip in.

He only jumps a bit as your arms wrap around him. Turning in them to face you.

"Hello." He says to you when his eyes meet yours.

"Hi." You whisper back, pulling him in closer to you, your head now resting on his chest. He lets out a light chuckle while rubbing your back in soothing circles.

To ensure you don't fall, you shift slightly on the wet surface. This causes Joel to let out a soft grunt, his now hardening member brushing against your thigh. It causes you to smirk and pull away, looking up at him.

"I barely hugged you and you're already this excited?" You question.

Something between a chuckle and a grunt passes through his lips, "Not my fault that you came in here all naked. It's human nature, baby." A pause while he drops his head down so his lips can brush your ear, "Remember when I said I wasn't as old as I seemed."

He nips your earlobe after speaking, an action that sends a rush down your spine. Heartbeat speeding up as he continues to breath right next to your sensitive skin, goosebumps popping up despite the warmth of the shower water.

He trails kisses down from your ear, across your chest, and up your neck. One kiss to your jaw, one to each cheek, one to your forehead, before pecking your lips. Pulling away way too soon for your liking as you try and chase his lips with your own.

Now Joel is smirking seeing how desperate you already are for him after making fun of him only moments before. Yet he decides that neither of you really need the teasing so early in the morning so his reserve goes out the window and he's connecting his lips to yours.

The kiss is slower than usual, the intensity not fully there since both of you only just woke up. It is slow, yet passionate. Your lips meet like they were meant for each other. Tongues only barely fighting each other as neither of you really wanted to take dominance of the situation.

And as Joel's fingers slowly make there way down the middle of your stomach, finding your sensitive bud soon after, yours are wrapping around his waist and pulling him even closer to you. You gasp as his fingers move your clit in slow methodical circles. The feeling makes your legs weak, but you quickly recover when you remember where you are and how easily you could fall.

The thought almost makes you laugh but that is also quickly forgotten when the finger that was just working your clit, makes its way into your folds, testing your entrance. It seems like Joel contemplates if you are ready for a second so you keen towards him a bit to egg him on. That's when his finger finally enters you, working its way in and out of you in time with his lips on yours.

Your hands now find their way in between his legs. You try to stroke his dick in the same pace as his fingers in you, but your brain has become a bit foggy. This only gets worse when Joel begins quirking his fingers inside of you in an attempt to find that particular spot inside of you.

"Come on baby, you know you want to give in." He says into your lips. The words come out almost desperate and the gruff nature of his voice has you melting. If you were an ice cube you would be down the drain already.

"I just want you inside of me. It's too early for all your teasing." Your words are now the ones that are desperate, as you fully grip his cock and stroke it quickly trying to urge him closer to wanting to fuck you.

He laughs at your actions and pushes your hands off of him, fingers also retreating from their still steady pace inside of you. Grabbing your hips with such careful hands, so careful that you almost question if this is the same man. Usually so rough with you that you are sure that even his callouses could leave marks.

Flipping you around he bends you at the hips and pushes you towards the wall, careful not to let the two of you fall. Your hands make contact with the cold tile and if you weren't so gone you would've pulled them away instinctually.

That's when he leans over you and whispers into your ear, "I'm going to fuck you now, but the way I want to. Nice and slow. One sound and I stop, understood?"

You open your mouth to answer, but snap it closed and nod instead.

"Good girl." Joel kisses the bit of jaw he can reach before he is standing back up straight.

One hand finds your waist and pulls you back into him. Your hands almost slip from the wet tile that is holding you up, but you recover. Just in time for the tip of his dick to tease your entrance.

Joel gathers the your wetness and strokes it down his member, covering it in preparation to enter you. When he is satisfied with his job he pushes his tip past your folds. Very slowly he enters you. And after what feels like an eternity he bottoms out inside of you.

The feeling has you gulping down a gasp that is threatening to leave your lips. Sure Joel has fucked you pretty much every which way, but there is something about right now that you are finding it so much harder to follow instructions. You just want to let him know how good he makes you feel.

And before you can fully let this thought circulate, Joel is pulling out of you painstakingly slow. The type of slow that almost hurts but also fills you with so much pleasure that you could forget your own name.

This is how he continues, this slow, painful pace. In and out of you. All the way from tip to base, each action feels like it could be a full minute of white hot pleasure. Joel holds your orgasm over your head like a pig with a carrot on a stick. Kept on a tight leash, with your lips also kept shut tight.

You're not sure how he is holding himself back at this point but, obviously, you don't question it. too scared of what would happen if you let anything escape your lips.

One particularly harsh thrust has his hips snapping into yours and involuntarily you are pushing your back into his, trying to get him even closer. Like that was possible.

This has him tutting at you and gripping your hips a bit rougher, "Like the way my dick fills you up baby?"

You want to answer, you really do but you just bite your lip instead. He seems to notice you holding back and laughs lightly at you.

Pulling out of you and flipping you around to face him. He pecks your forehead before lifting one leg around his hip. You almost lose your balance as he pushes you back into the wall, so you have at least a little bit of support.

"Let me give you what you really want." Joel says as he enters you once again. "Wanna see the look on your face as you cum on my dick, pretty girl."

Now he's pistoning you onto his dick, letting you feel as much of his length as he can with how tightly your leg is wrapped around him. Its like your body wants to keep him permanently inside of you, not like your brain disagrees though.

Just like that, a few thrusts later and you are getting closer to your orgasm. Your body giving in so easily and it's heightened state. You never knew how malleable morning sex would make you.

And as your vision is beginning to be clouded by stars and your stomach is tightening, a whimper escapes your lips before you can catch it. Joel's hips stop abruptly and so does your orgasm.

Your eyes snap open to meet his. They just stare back blankly, almost no emotion because you know what you did. You want to plead with him, maybe complain that you were close but you don't. Silence watches over you.

Joel sits there staring at you, member half inside of you. Your pussy clenches onto it, as if trying to urge him into giving in. But it isn't until you are dropping your eyes from his that he's leaning forward and capturing your lips in his own. He kisses you for a moment, slow and steady, still just warming his cock inside of you.

"I know you were close baby, but you knew the rules." He says in a way that it almost sounds like an apology. But that is long forgotten as he snaps his hip forward into you and hits your g spot in one perfect thrust.

The urge to moan again is intense that you are biting down on your lip. For a second you question if you would draw blood, but decide the pleasure is way important right now. As your head tosses back meeting the cool tile.

With how close your orgasm was before it isn't long before you are reaching your peak once again. Your stomach clenches again and vision blurs. Although this time you are conscious of the sounds you would normally make and hold them back. As the wave crashes over you and you are spasming into Joel's body.

Joel's strong arms hold you up as your legs go weak under you, the wet floor making it all too easy for you to just go down. The leg around his hips also loosens but he grips that thigh holding it there as he begins to chase his own orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around him getting him dangerously close to his own peak. His teeth find your neck in an attempt to hold back his orgasm, not wanting to cum into you without a condom (or permission).

"Baby-" He grunts out, pain laced in his voice. You catch the tone immediately and try to find you feet. Although it takes you a second, in that second he is pulling out of you and stroking his dick in an attempt to reach his orgasm.

Without a second thought you are dropping to your knees and swatting his hands away replacing them with your own. The minute your mouth meets the tip of his member, he is shooting his load into your waiting cavern. Swallowing it all down as you stroke him slowly, working him through his high.

Joel's hands grip your hair as he comes down from his high. When he has come back down to earth, his fingers loosen and instead he is stroking your head in a comforting gesture.

Giving him another second to recover before you stand up to attach his lips to your own. Now he is melting into your touch as he tastes himself on your lips.

"I love you." This has you pausing and stepping back. You are sure you didn't hear him right. Seeing the look on your face a playful smile graces his own.

"Y/N I love you." Joel repeats.

"I-I love you too." You want to jump into his arms, but obviously you don't want to break your leg...or his.

"Why did you have to tell here?" Now you are hitting his chest, leaving the hand there, just needing to feel him. He laughs at your antics, but let's you continue, knowing you well enough to know you aren't done yet.

"I'm all wet and I just woke up. I have sex brain. Uh!" Another hit, this one has him grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him carefully.

"I feel like that's the perfect time." Joel says with a smile, leaning down to place a kiss on your pouting lips.

"I feel like that's the perfect time." You mock him which has him laughing again. Another kiss is placed on your lips, this one continues a bit longer as if he is savoring the feeling of yours on his.

The blush is evident on your cheeks but you aren't giving up, "Just finish up in here, I'm going back to bed." A huff and you are leaving the shower. Joel's laugh echoes behind you.

When you told Joel to finish up, you didn't think he would take this long. At this rate you should've just stayed in there and washed yourself too. Instead you have dried yourself off already and are sat crisscross on Joel's bed. His shirt adorning your body and a towel wrapped around your still damp hair.

You have a book resting on your legs as you read in silence. Hearing the water turn off in the bathroom, you smile down at your book knowing Joel will be out soon.

Just as the sink faucet is switched on, the front door opens and a familiar voice sounds out through the house. The bathroom door is all but slammed open at the booming voice. Joel stands there towel around his waist, toothbrush between his lips. A bit of toothpaste is threatening to spill out of the corner of his mouth and you bite back a smile.

"Tommy." Joel says, the words a bit muffled by the brush and paste in his mouth.

Your eyes widen. No you weren't scared to meet his brother, I mean you have technically met him before. It was just you wanted to make a semi good impression and well here you were in only your underwear.

But before you can make any change to that Tommy's footsteps are thudding down the hallway and the door to Joel's bedroom is swinging open, with not so much as a knock.

"Joel!" Tommy calls out just as his eyes drop to yours. You are quickly pushing your legs straight under the covers in any attempt to cover yourself.

Tommy's jaw drops, "You!" Your eyes stay open wide not sure what is going to come out of his mouth next. Joel stays stuck in the doorway, not sure what to do either.

Then Tommy laughs, like a whole belly laugh. Loud, resounding. He doubles over holding his stomach. That's how funny he finds this whole situation.

It's almost a minute before he is recovering from his fit, wiping the tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. Both you and Joel are still stood there in shock. Watching his brother with semi-concerned eyes.

"The girl from the bar!" Tommy points to you, then to Joel. "And you! You old dog. Joel's still got it, huh?" He nods as if he's just discovered something.

Another chuckle and he's looking back at you, "Damn."

"Tommy..." Joel tests the waters, still not fully sure what to say to him.

"This is, just wow!" Then Tommy does something that is even more astounding. He slow claps. Actually slow claps like he's in some movie.

He does this for a second or two before looking between you and Joel, nodding slowly. You clear your throat, trying to attempt anything to clear the awkward air of the situation.

"I'm Y/N, by the way." A tight smile comes with your words. Hand leaving its grip on your book to give a small wave to the man.

He's still nodding, "Tommy-" He weighs his words. "I'm gonna go." And with that he is turning on his heel.

Yelling a quick, "Good job big bro!", before the front door is closed behind him.

As soon as the lock is clicking, you and Joel turn to each other. Still in shock, before you are giggling.

"Well, were two for two on family first meetings. Got any other family members I could awkwardly meet?"

Joel smiles at you before he is retreating to bathroom to spit out his long forgotten toothpaste. Returning to the room , he crawls across the foot of the bed towards you, like a lion stalking his prey.

"No, but honestly that's the best it could've gone with Tommy so don't feel bad." A kiss to your lips.

"I don't feel bad, I feel embarrassed." You say as you trace a finger down his jaw. He melts into your touch.

"I mean look at me!" You gesture to your lack luster clothing... or lack of clothing.

Lust flashes behind his eyes, "I think you look sexy." You almost hit him again but hold back.

"Of course you do, I'm wearing your shirt."

Joel considers your words for a second, "Is that what it is? Sure it isn't how I'm still thinking about how badly I wanted to fill you with my cum earlier?"

Your jaw drops, actually drops at his words. But two can play at this game.

"So why didn't you?" Hands play with the hairs at the nape of his neck, a shiver runs down his spine.

"You," A poke to your nose, "were in no mindset to give me permission, pretty girl. Not to mention, you were keeping those pretty lips shut." As he mentions your lips, he glances down at them. You readjust your body so your tits brush his chest. Nipples hardening at the sensation.

"Now I'm thinking about how much I missed out." You try, wanting to get one response in particular from Joel.

"Well, what my baby wants, she gets." Joel says matter-of-factly. Grabbing your hips and pulling you to lay down beneath him. You feel his hardening member brush your thigh.

"Mr. Miller, already so hard again?" You question the sound of fake astonishment in your voice.

"Shut up and let the whole neighborhood hear how good I make you feel. Gonna get you so full of my cum, sugar."

Needless to say, neither you nor Joel left the bed that day.

Taglist:

@wh0reforbucknasty @guelyury @shibeom @theoraekenslover @deathsholywaterr @azxulaa @untamedheart81 @akah565 @shadowmoonlight0604 @papi-ispunk

I just went ahead and tagged everyone that mentioned wanting a part two :)

[writingquestionsanswered]

i was reading my writing so far and noticed that it's kind of hasty? it feels like the scenes pass too quickly and characters act and make decisions too fast. i'm kind of a pantser and still on my first draft so there's definitely gonna be a lot of revisions but i was wondering if you'd have any advise on how to make the time in my story pass more naturally as opposed to stuff happening kind of rapid-fire. my story is high fantasy if that's relevant. i hope i worded this in a way that is understandable.

(also thanks so much for running this blog, it's very helpful)

Scenes Feel Rushed (Scene Elements/Structure)

The thing about scene pacing is it has nothing to do with time. It isn't about how long it takes the reader to read the scene, the amount of time that elapses in the story during the scene, or how fast/slow these events play out. Here's why:

-- readers read at different speeds -- scenes can occur over a period of minutes or days in your story -- scenes can be fast-paced or slow-paced depending on need

So, if your scenes are feeling rushed, it's not because you need figure out how to make the time pass more naturally. It's because not enough is happening in your scene. In other words, you don't have a good grasp on what scenes are supposed to accomplish and how to structure them.

Scene Elements

Your scene should include the following elements:

1 - A Writer Understood Purpose - First and foremost, as the writer, you should understand the purpose (aka "goal") of the scene in terms of what it accomplishes in the bigger story. Does it advance the plot in some way? Does it develop the protagonist and/or other main characters in a way that is crucial to the plot? Does it develop the setting, back story, or otherwise give the reader information they need in order to understand the story?

2 - Clearly Established Setting - Imagine if you went to see a play, but the stage had no backdrop, no scenery, no props. It was just a big empty stage with actors on it. Imagine how much you would lose without understanding where this scene was taking place. It works the same way in fiction, which is why it's important to start a scene by giving the reader some idea of where it's taking place. Using sensory and emotional description, you can give the reader a good image of the scenery and what it means to the POV character/s and the scene that's about to unfold.

3 - Relevant Characters - A scene can't play out without its requisite characters, but "requisite" is the keyword there: only characters who are relevant to the purpose of the scene--as well as "background extras" who are there to fill small-but-necessary roles and lend to an authentic setting... such as the teacher and other students in a classroom scene, or other patrons and servers in a restaurant scene. However, don't include main or secondary characters just to include them. They should be there because they need to be or because it makes sense for them to be there.

4 - Scene Conflict - Just as every story needs a conflict (an over-arching problem that must be resolved), so does every scene. Scene conflict can be internal (within the character's heart and mind) or external (in the character's environment). The purpose of the scene is to either resolve the scene conflict or propel it toward a future scene.

5 - Clarified Motivation and Goal - Because you understand the purpose of the scene (what you're trying to accomplish in the scene as the writer) and because you know the conflict/problem that must be resolved, it's important to clarify your character's scene goal (what they're trying to do in order to resolve the scene's problem, or their attempt to resolve it) and what is motivating them to resolve this conflict. Why is it important to them?

6 - Relative Balance of Exposition, Action, and Dialogue - Most scenes should have a relative balance of exposition (narrator explaining things), action (things happening), and dialogue (characters talking.) However, there are sometimes scenes that will lean toward more exposition, more action, or more dialogue. It just depends on the needs of the scene, but generally-speaking, you want a reasonably good balance. If there's no story-centric reason 90% of the scene needs to be dialogue, you need to make sure you balance things out a little more between dialogue, action, and exposition.

7 - Exploration of Emotion - Even in stories that are fully plot-driven, there needs to be an exploration of the emotions being felt by the characters in the scene, and an attempt by the writer to translate those emotions to the reader. The movie Jurassic Park, for example, was pretty fully plot-driven... it wasn't really about exploring internal conflicts or character arcs... but the emotion felt by the characters at throughout the story went a long way in making the reader feel things alongside them. Who can forget Dr. Grant seeing the dinosaurs for the first time:

Or Lex trembling when she saw the raptor in the visitor's center:

By illustrating character emotion using external cues (body language, facial expressions, gestures) and internal cues (sensations like heart pounding, processing what emotions are being felt and what it means), and by exploring how these emotions relate to the plot (and character arc, if there is one), we can create a much deeper sense of what's happening in the scene and why it matters.

Scene Structure

Scenes, like plot, have their own structure. Just as with plot structure, you can vary your scene's structure according to the needs of your scene, but generally speaking it will look like this:

Beginning - hook and setting establishment

Conflict Development - introduce or reiterate the scene conflict; clarify character motivation, goal, and what's at stake. Introduce the obstacles or challenges that raise the stakes or make it more difficult for the character to achieve their scene goal

Climax - The conflict reaches its peak... the character attempts to resolve the scene conflict for good, or at least temporarily. Or, at the very least, something significant occurs

Resolution/Denouement - The scene conflict is either resolved or it's set aside to be dealt with later. The character reflects on what happened, what it means, and what's next

Transition to Next Scene - We usually want to end a scene with some hint of what the next scene will be to create a smooth transition to the next scene. This could be a statement of time, like, "In another week, Roland would return from Bruges and she could finally talk to him about what was going on." Or, it can be a cliffhanger, like, "But it wasn't Bernard and Cleo who got out of the taxi... it was Roland and Cleo. But Roland was supposed to be two-thousand miles away in Bruges..." Or, it can be an establishment of what comes next. "Whatever Roland was up to, she'd have to wait until tomorrow to snoop around and find out more."

By making sure your scene includes the proper elements and generally follows a basic scene structure, you can ensure that there's enough happening in the scene to keep it from playing out too quickly.

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