#i hope someone enjoys this self indulgent nonsense

[onlyseokmins]

size matters • l.c.

Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬

"I'm worried my dick's too big."

Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.

He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.

And no one wants that.

"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."

Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 

He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.

"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"

"You're drunk."

"So are you." 

Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.

"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."

You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."

"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."

Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 

"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 

You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 

He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."

"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."

"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."

"You know I'm not!"

"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."

Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"

"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."

Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.

Or maybe that's just the alcohol.

Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 

"Are you flaccid right now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."

He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."

"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 

"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.

"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"

Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 

"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"

"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."

"Then you should try harder."

He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 

Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 

Like always.

Except it's not.

All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 

You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.

"Am I boring you, baby?"

"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"

He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"

"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."

"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."

"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."

"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"

Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."

"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.

You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"

"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 

That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.

"Ah, well, so do I!" 

Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.

Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 

While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 

"I wanna go home."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just feel like leaving."

He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"Ooh… are you jealous?"

"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."

"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.

Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 

Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.

"You want to go to my place?"

"Yeah."

He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"

"Sure. Maybe condoms too."

"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"

Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 

There's no one there, of course.

"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."

"You do? Good."

"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"

Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"

"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"

"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."

His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"

"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"

One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."

"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."

He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"

"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"

"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 

Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 

"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."

Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 

But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 

He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your pussy has too?"

"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."

"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"

And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.

Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.

He needs to get home fast. Now.

The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.

"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."

The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 

"No. You have to wait."

"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."

"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"

You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 

He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.

"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips �� eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."

His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 

"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.

"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."

"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."

Neither one of you care. 

In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 

Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 

"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."

Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 

Oh, you cannot wait.

He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!

Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.

Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 

"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 

Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.

"C'mon bestie, please."

"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."

"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"

Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 

"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"

His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 

"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.

And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.

The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 

Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.

"You can't make me cum."

"What? Why? Need to stretch — "

"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"

"God, yes."

You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."

Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.

It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.

He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.

Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.

There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 

It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.

And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 

The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 

Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.

You're on the brink of climaxing.

And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.

Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.

He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 

"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.

"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."

"Can't believe you didn't rip them."

"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.

"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"

"Huh?"

It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."

With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.

"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."

"You love it."

"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."

You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.

"Someone's full of surprises."

"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."

Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "

"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 

You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.

"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.

His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.

It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.

"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.

You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.

It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 

Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.

He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.

It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.

"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."

"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"

"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"

You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 

"Mhm… yeah."

"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"

"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"

"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"

"Mhmph! More… more!"

A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 

Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.

He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.

Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.

"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"

Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.

"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."

"All… all for you!"

Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"

Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.

That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 

His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.

"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."

You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."

"That's not how it works."

Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 

You're honestly a little offended. 

He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 

Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 

You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 

"Good thing I'm flexible." 

"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 

"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 

You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 

"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."

What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 

To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 

Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 

But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.

Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 

It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"

And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.

White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 

Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.

"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."

He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.

Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 

Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.

It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.

"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.

He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 

Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.

There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."

"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."

"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"

"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."

"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."

"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."

It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.

"So, you're mine now too?"

"If that's okay with you."

And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.

onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©

[justporo]

A Love Letter

"Quite contrary to what you might believe, I have never written a love letter. Quick notes with sweet innocents on them or naughty promises, surely, loads of those. But not like this, never."

When Astarion hears that you never in your life have a received a love letter he takes it upon himself to change that.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: It's been a while hasn't it? I hope to get back into the saddle with writing after I took a bit of a break. And what better thing to come back with than a very cheesy, self-indulgent thing? I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

Pairing: Astarion/named Tav (Fox/You) Warnings: light mention of past trauma Wordcount: 2,7k

You had never really been very much into these romantic things. You didn’t have the time for that pretty nonsense. Or maybe it was that you just never had gotten to experience it. And so you made yourself believe that.

So when you mentioned to Astarion that you never once in your life had received a love letter and was imagining how it might be, the vampire felt he had to do something about it. He wasn’t very much into these things either; things that felt just performative.

But after all, he knew with you this wasn’t the case - at all.

So one night, a while after you had mentioned this, and Astarion was out to run errands you found an envelope on the table in your kitchen - and next to it a singular deep red tulip.

On the envelope you saw your name in Astarion’s elegant handwriting written in gold ink - with a few wholly unnecessary but beautiful extra swirls around it.

With a fiendish smile on your lips you opened the letter and were surprised by several pages falling out of it. All of course written in Astarion’s neat hand. You brushed your hair out of your face, feeling that you needed to look presentable for this.

The letter read:

“My darling Fox,

Quite contrary to what you might believe, I have never written a love letter. Quick notes with sweet innocents on them or naughty promises, surely, loads of those. But not like this, never.

This is different, you are different! And you being different means I am now sitting here while you’ve gone to bed already ages ago by dim candle light with several pages of parchment because I know - I know - I will need them to even just scratch the surface. But right now, to be perfectly honest with you, I am a little lost for words as I sit here with a goblet of wine. I’m trying to warm up to this idea of me actually trying to lay bare what I usually don’t share with anyone. Not even with you.

Not because I don’t want to. But because I struggle with letting someone in. But you were so patient with me thus far. I hope you’ll be patient with me for this as well. This is my third attempt to write something that feels right. Something that feels true and not make-believe…

But bear with me as I am working to get the hang of this. Can’t really call myself a consummate lover if I don’t get this one down, can I?

Let’s start over, shall we?

I could tell you about every single little detail I adore about you: like the way your pretty silver eyes light up when you grin at me. Every single freckle you have, which I am sure I know by heart by now - every single one. Or how your smile is so beautiful that it makes even my undead and rotten heart flutter in my chest. How you get these delightful full body blushes when I pull you into my arms, still, no matter how long we’ve been together. How wonderfully sharp your tongue is and how witty you are, my little minx. How you curse worse than a sailor and drink at least as much as one, my little swashbuckling rebel. How you do everything to not be treated by a lady but then swoon when I try it on you anyways.

Or I could tell you how much I adore your kindness. How you worry so deeply about your friends and how loyal you are.

Or how I might roll my eyes every time you stop in the streets to pet one of the stray cats but actually love how you care even for the tiniest and most ragged critters, showering them with your honest affection.

Because isn’t that just like what you’ve done with me?

You looked at me - hells, I held a knife to your delicate neck! - and despite all odds you decided: you liked that one. Despite all the pain, all the suffering, all the trauma, all the patience you needed and all the good will. I couldn’t get rid of you - thankfully.

You kept me, you cared for me. And when I was unable to let you in, you let me in first, taking a leap of faith.

I could see it in your eyes first.

Your beautiful silver eyes and how they always betray just what you think and feel. Maybe not to everyone, but to me. Trust me, I’ve spent quite some time looking at them.

And at some point I looked at you. Your eyes were just so open and I just knew.

You saved me, Fox.

I know I told you before. But I need you to understand that I wouldn’t be here with you if I was without you. You stayed with me through all of this, you helped me every step of the way without really expecting anything in return.

And now I am more than just “still here”, more than just a hollow husk, void of life: I am free - and with you I am even whole.

You radiate so much joy and love and life. You care. Despite your own beatings and betrayals in life, you've never given up on believing that better days are ahead. Not even for a moment.

My stubborn little thing, who couldn't love you when you come barging into people's lives like this. You have your way of just grabbing people by the hand and pulling them with you, saying yes to the good things that happen and fuck off to the bad ones.

And you were right. Better days were, for once, just around the corner.

I feel violently alive when I'm with you.

And it's scary and even hurts sometimes. But it is so incredibly beautiful, joyous and breathtaking that I won't have it any other way.

It's like you pulled me right from that grave into your loving arms. And to my own surprise your embrace and how my name sounds on your lips weighs so much heavier than what has come before.

You haven’t given up on me. For some reason beyond my own comprehension you see something in me. Maybe some day you’ll help me understand too.”

You took a moment to let the words settle with you, your fingertips running over the neat cursive letters. It wasn’t lost on you that there were some specks on the bottom of the page. Like drops had fallen on it. Some had blurred the ink of the final words at the bottom where the handwriting, you realised, had gotten just a tiny bit shaky.

Tears were burning dangerously in your eyes, a knot forming in your throat as your eyes wandered back over the words, not daring yet to move on. And when a teardrop fell from your cheeks onto the paper, mixing in with the others already there you couldn’t help the small laugh escaping you. Knowing exactly the way the writer must have felt bringing these words down onto the parchment.

Then you read on.

“Enough of this sentimental nonsense now, let us move on to more important matters.”

You laughed out loud reading this as the first sentence on the next page. The handwriting as elegant as ever again. And you could quite clearly imagine how the vampire must’ve brushed away his “nonsensical” tears with a pout to regain his composure before he began writing again.

You kept on reading.

“You must’ve realised by now that I am quite a selfish man. I have absolutely no intention of letting you go, my love.

When I told you that you were the first person who I truly cared for, I meant it.

For as long as you will have me by your side and for as long as my immortal life, you will not get rid of me. I hope you thought this rightfully through when you said you wanted to be with me.

For as long as you want me to, I will do everything in my power to keep you as happy and healthy as you are now.

Your light shines so bright, my darling Fox, I don’t ever want to see it dimmed. I always want to see you smile as brightly, laugh as loudly and be as carefree as you are right now.

I want to keep holding you in my arms as you drift off to your dreams with your breaths getting softer and deeper before their soft rhythm lulls me to rest also. And then feel you wake up again in my embrace.

Do you know how incredibly beautiful you are in these moments?

I am not a poet, nor will I ever be one, gods forbid, so I can barely do it justice. But I will try nonetheless.

You are so beautiful and delicate in my arms, completely bare before me, not an inch between us with your limbs all wrapped around me, your hair all messed up. I can feel your comforting warmth. And then this first big breath of you waking up. You always bury your face in my chest as if you’re trying to resist the world of the awake claiming you again. And your arms wrap around me a little tighter while you groan about your fate of having to be awake again. And then you lift your head and blink slowly at me with these beautiful eyes of yours, still sleepy, and red hair all over your face. And your smile grows. You tell me good morning and that you love me with your voice still raspy from sleep and kiss me with your smile growing even broader.

You are everything for me in those moments. Because it feels like every single day you choose to love me again. Aren’t I quite lucky?

 And it’s a gift, every day anew.

And I love you too, Fox, oh how I love you. In those moments and all the others.

I will do everything so I can hold onto these moments with you and create a million more.

Because even though I might have lost the sun, I gained a new source of light. Your warmth makes me want to live again. For you - and for me.”

And then the final lines of the letter were written with a bit more space - and visibly more vigour. The letters tall and proud:

“I love you, Fox, from this moment to the next and for all that are to come.

I love you and I will keep loving you for as long as I live.

I love you.

Forever yours, Astarion”

There weren’t just single tears running over your cheeks and then rolling off your face by the time you finished reading. One hand was clenching the parchment sheets while you simultaneously tried not to ruin them. Your other hand was covering your mouth as you couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing.

You had sat down on the bench sometime while reading without even realising it. Now you were thankful for the support while emotions washed over and through you: overflowing love, bittersweet joy and aching yearning - among others.

Surely, when you had told Astarion that you had never received a love letter you didn’t think he would come up with something like this.

Maybe some cheesy little thing where he got to repurpose all of his favourite stupid lines, but not something like this. Not something so heartfelt and true. Not something that, despite his claims, was showing just how much he was letting you in.

You read the whole letter again.

And then a third time. And a fourth.

All the while your tears didn’t stop. They got worse even, to the point where you had to put the sheets down and cover your eyes while sobs shook your body.

Your chest felt like it was slowly coming apart as you felt it swell to the brim with love for your vampire.

That was the moment Astarion found you: still sitting at the wooden table in the kitchen, crying and sobbing and still clutching the letter in your hands, unwilling to let go. He halted a moment in the doorway.

“Was it that terrible, darling?” Astarion teased as he then entered the room. You hadn’t even noticed him before, too preoccupied with how the words of his confession swam before your eyes.

“I think I did quite a good job,” the vampire continued as he slowly sauntered over to you, hands crossed behind his back. With a huge sniffle you lifted your gaze to meet the writer’s eyes.

“I mean considering that I’ve never done this before,” Astarion finished as he took one last step up to you and immediately sank into a crouch beside you. Long, pale fingers reached out to tug one of several stray strands of hair back behind one of your pointy ears.

Your eyes were on Astarion and through your still welling tears you saw the cautious smile dance around his lips. His tone had been joking, his fingers softly brushing tears out of the corner of your eye lovingly. But his hesitation wasn’t lost on you.

So you took the only measure you deemed adequate to assure him that he had done a marvellous job. And since you could barely put into words how deeply his honest, loving words had moved you, you resorted to show rather than tell.

You threw yourself into Astarion’s arms, making him almost topple over in his crouched position. But the vampire kept his balance as you wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you ever had.

Neither of you cared when more tears spilled onto him and you while more sobs shook through you. “I love you,” you pressed out in between sobs and sniffles. “I love you, Astarion,” you repeated.

And again and again until the words made no sense anymore.

Astarion just held you, burying his face in your hair. And you could have sworn you must’ve felt a tear or two wet your already messed up hair that hadn’t been yours.

The two of you stayed in this tangled and messy embrace, both on your knees, for a long while. Your vampire softly swayed you while your sobs slowly subsided and the tears only remained as softly prickling traces on your face.

That kind of blissful exhaustion that only overcomes you after a long and hearty cry threatened to take you over when you had lost all sense of time in your lover’s arms. So you ripped your face from where it had been buried at Astarion’s neck before you became too tired.

With one hand you rubbed sloppily over your eyes and then your nose. And even without looking you knew Astarion’s nose would scrunch up in disgust. The thought almost immediately made you laugh. But when you looked at him again, finally free of blurring tears, you were merely met with a smirk and a soft mocking glint in his eyes, sparking at you from beneath Astarion’s brows.

“I can’t believe out of all moments you could have picked, you chose to call me beautiful with bedhair, you idiot” you blurted out and swatted the vampire’s arms before you immediately broke out with hysterical laughter.

The vampire immediately hissed at you in response. Then he cleared his throat and put on an air of seriousness when you looked up at him again: “But you are, my love. Even with your face covered in tears and snot you are still quite, eh…” He gesticulated dramatically towards you and his nose scrunched up again as he teased you. It only earned him another hit from you. He hissed at you again, letting go of you to rub the spot you had just hit.

“You punch quite hard, you know that?” he barked at you, his tone slightly offended. And you only laughed more.

“Maybe you should have added that to the letter,” you teased back and stuck out your tongue at him.

“You insolent, ungrateful wretch,” Astarion hurled at you while his smirk returned.

“You pretentious, stupid prick,” you gave back.

Then you leaned in, cupped Astarion’s face and kissed him. He met you with a content hum.

“I love you, Astarion,” you whispered as you broke away and pressed your forehead to his.

His eyes glittered and his smile was so broad it made the vampire’s face ache: “Love you too, my sweet little Fox.”

~~~

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Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @miss-rebel-without-applause

[newtthetranswriter]

Choso at Pride

Word Count: 1264

Paring: Choso x Transmasc! Reader

Summary: While at Pride, a karen tries to cause problems only to have her spirits crushed. Followed by some sweet cuddles after a long day

Warnings: Bigots being Bigots, the usual homophobic and transphobic reasons for being assholes, let me know if I missed anything

A/n: Just a little Choso pride fic. For the record I have never been to a Pride festival for many reasons though I’m hoping to go to one this year. Also I ship yuji and megumi, if you don't agree either deal with it or move on. Anyways enjoy and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

    Choso may have not been a person for long but he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that there are people out there, who hate people for expressing themselves. When his partner told him about Pride and how it was a celebration for the people who were part of the LGBTQ+ community to show that they are happy to be who they are, he couldn’t help but want to join in on the fun. Afterall his partner was part of said community and after some self reflection he also decided he fell somewhere in the community. So the morning of the Local Pride festival, Choso helped Y/n get ready before heading to the park.

   “Choso, I’m so glad you wanted to come with me, It’s going to be so fun.” Y/n shouted as they got closer to the busy park full of so many different happy people.

   Choso smiled as he held their hand. “Of course, why wouldn’t I come celebrate the person who has helped me adapt to the world the most.” His smile was infectious as he pulled them in for a quick kiss.

   As they entered the park they were greeted by rows and rows of different vendors selling various pride themed items, most clearly hand made and perfect for the event. The two wandered the festival browsing the various booths, occasionally striking up conversation with those running them. Eventually they came to an area dedicated to some food trucks and decided it was a good time to take a break and get a snack.

   “You sit and take a breather, I’ll go get us something to eat okay?” Choso directed as they approached a small table near one of the many food trucks.

    Y/n nodded, accepting the offer to just sit for a minute. Walking and dancing around the park had started to cause some aches and pains so they were thankful. Fanning themself with their large Nonbinary flag fan, Y/n decided it was too hot to continue wearing their black ‘We are all human’ shirt opting instead to place it in their bag. With the dark shirt out of the way, their Binder which was colored to look like the trans flag was now on full display. 

    As Y/n waited for Choso to return with their lunch, they heard footsteps fast approaching from behind them. Expecting it to be a fellow Pride goer coming to strike up a conversation about their binder or something, Y/n turned to greet them. Unfortunately, it was not someone looking to be friends, instead it was very clearly one of the many protesters they had seen throughout the park.

   “How can you so disrespectfully damage the body god gave you? You’ll go to hell if you don’t change your ways and abandon such satanic practices.” The Karen said pointedly. Y/n just rolled their eyes, taking in the fact the woman was holding a sign spouting something about trans people indoctrinating children. “You are putting children at risk by supporting such dangerous things.” Y/n had fully turned away from the lady knowing that she just wanted a confrontation. “You turn away because you know I’m telling the truth. You turn your back on god.” At this point Y/n was ready to just get up and go find Choso. “Such a beautiful young lady like yourself should be at home taking care of children, not defiling your body and indulging in the lies of these groomers.”

   Y/n truly had wanted to ignore the woman’s nonsense but calling them a lady and then spouting the same ‘they’re all groomers’ bullshit, pissed Y/n off. “First off, I never asked for your opinion. Second, what do you get out of telling people their life is not something you approve of? How many people have you spouted the same nonsense at, have actually changed because you told them they were going to hell?” They asked, turning to the now bewildered woman. “Judging by the shock on your face, none. So, instead of being mad that I have people who love and support me for who I am, you go home and worry about how your kids never call.” With that Y/n grabbed their bag, getting up and searching for their brunette boyfriend.

   As they were looking for Choso, they heard a familiar voice. “Love, I thought you were going to wait at the table for me?” Choso asked, approaching them with a confused look on his face. “Did something happen?” He noticed the slightly irritated look on Y/n’s face.

  Y/n sighed as they accepted the plate of food Choso had offered them. “It’s nothing important, just your average transphobe telling me I’ll go to hell for ‘defiling’ the body god gave me.” They said as they took a bite of the food. “Don’t worry too much I put her in her place and then came to find you. Let’s walk around while we eat.” They suggested leading Choso away from the makeshift food court.

   Choso nodded, knowing that if the encounter had really upset Y/n they would have told him. So they continued through the area, occasionally stopping to buy little things that caught their eyes. After they finished their food they kept walking around enjoying the atmosphere. As the afternoon shifted to evening, the couple decided it was time to head out.

   Once they made it home and were laying on the couch reminiscing over the day, Choso brought up what had happened when they were separated. “Are you sure you’re okay? I know you said it was fine, I just want to make sure you are 100% okay.” His concern was clear as he looked down at where Y/n was resting on his chest.

   They lifted their head placing a quick kiss to his nose before responding. “I’m 100% sure that I’m fine. Had it been a problem I would have told you right away. Plus I think you should be more worried about how much money you spent on Pride merch.” They turned to look at the mini mountain of assorted items that made it look as if a Pride explosion happened on their coffee table.

   “Hey, I have to support the community and plus not all of these are for us. Some of those things are for Yuji.” He stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

   Y/n raised a brow at the half curse before questioning him. “Why? I thought he and Megumi were going to Pride themselves, couldn’t he have bought stuff then?” They asked, perplexed. 

   Choso chuckled. “Shortly before I ran into you with our food, Yuji called me. Apparently they were called for a last minute mission and couldn’t go. He asked me if I could grab them some stuff since they couldn’t go.” He explained.

   Placing another kiss on Choso's face, Y/n smiled. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” They asked jokingly. Choso pretended to ponder the question, before shaking his head no going along with the joke. “Well, I love you so much. You are such a great brother and great sorcerer. And most importantly you are an amazing boyfriend.” They said finishing their sentence with a final kiss on the forehead.

   Choso smiled at them, placing a kiss on their lips. “And you are the most amazing partner I could ever ask for.” After sitting for a moment they both relaxed back into the couch both falling asleep in each other’s arms.

[droolingvenus]

Enter Here:

Hello, and welcome to my little corner of Hell! You can call me Venus, I'm not new to this hellsite by any means and I finally decided it was time to carve out the niche in the Star Wars fandom that I always dreamed of someone else making.

On this blog, I will be posting various headcanons, blurbs, quotes, fanart, possibly fanfictions of my own writing, all relating to what I consider to be my favorite ships, including rare pairings and a variety of ships that I think I came up with because I am single IRL and would really rather not be.

I personally write a ridiculous amount of self-indulgent fanfiction that I don't post anywhere and only write for my own enjoyment, but my preferred pairings and AUs are very rarely anywhere near canon. I always hoped there were more people with uncommon interests in the fandom, but after years of no luck, I've made the decision to find them myself, or convert some people...

My main ships that I enjoy writing about/am interested in exploring are:

Quinfox/Foxquin/Vox (Quinlan Vos x Commander Fox)

Codywan (Commander Cody x Obi-Wan Kenobi)

Blyla (Aayla Secura x Commander Bly)

Quinobi/Obiquin (Quinlan Vos x Obi-Wan Kenobi)

Rexsoka (Extremely wary of this one, I would only explore the concept post-Clone Wars Era as Ahsoka is... A child before the end of the War... Yeah, none of that please)

Kanera (Kanan Jarrus x Hera Syndulla)

Dinluke (Din Djarin x Luke Skywalker)

Wreckme? (Padme Amidala x Wrecker? Weird one that I think ONE SINGULAR PERSON has art of and now it lives in my brain dumpster and I've been toying with it a bit)

I'm curious about Kit Fisto x Aayla Secura x Commander Bly, but I haven't actually explored it much, so if you've got any thoughts or favorite fan works, feel free to send them my way!

These are the ships that I currently find myself interested in and writing about, but I'm open to hearing about what other people might like, my only boundaries are non-familial/platonic ships between clones, that's not my cup of tea, and any Master/Padawan ships, something I'm not interested in and would prefer to not engage with, you do you, of course.

I also enjoy at least two AUs, one that I believe pre-dates my use of it and the other is a very common one: Sith AU (Duh) and Victory Ball AU (In which the Clone War ends in a Republic-Jedi victory and things are all made right, Palpatine will always die, usually in increasingly hilarious or vengeful ways, depending on how my day went)

I am a SUCKER for the Soulmate trope/AU, and if anyone ever wants my thoughts on a specific ship being soulmates, ask! I will gladly babble my nonsense to any who wish to hear it!

I will forewarn that I am likely to post about ships + reader, for example, I'm already planning for my first real post to be a Quinfox x reader headcanon, so if you're like me and are polyamorous or LGBTQ+ in another way, you're welcome to send things in too! There's room for everyone around here, my little deal is that no one can be harmed and it can't be an illegal relationship (Examples include but are not limited to: Non-Con, incest, underage/of age partners, abusive dynamics/themes, coercion,) in our standards. As long as it would be legal here, I can usually give it a chance, though if you want me to write about a ship committing crimes together... That's a different story, I have access to Google and no respect for my search history, if you want to hear about being Codywan's assassin/lover, shoot me an ask, I have thoughts ;)

Lastly, I will post NSFW and suggestive content at some point and while I will do my best to add many tags and warnings, if you can't handle that risk and/or you are under 18, GO AWAY. I'm not sorry that I'm an adult and that I enjoy adult content, and anyone who doesn't want to see it is more than welcome to leave.

Ageless blogs and blogs run by minors will be blocked, and it will not be warned or nice, I don't want you here and if you're truly mature, you should be mature enough to respect that this space is not for you.

Asks are open, requests are open, ranting in the asks is more than welcome, feel free to send any questions in and I'll get to them ASAP!

~Venus

[destiny-in-the-universe]

what have i done lol-

I somehow managed to get back into The Promised Neverland and decided ‘hey, wouldn’t it be kind of silly if there was a crossover with my current interests’ and i realize this might make very little sense but this is created from self indulgent bullshit

I’m only using RC9GN for now but this will likely stay in wip mode for now! (this is not the angst idea i had in mind for finja and nomi- that’s something different)

Though to explain my thoughts for this nonsensical idea-

🏠 For the time being, Marci is the caretaker of the children- she is always good to them until the very end; as much as it pains her- she knows what needs to be done and makes sure the kids never know what happens on the other side of that gate

🏠 The Sorcerer is an ancient demon. He becomes the primary foe that our main characters will have to face after escaping from the orphanage

🏠 McFist and Viceroy work for Lambda. Viceroy administers the tests, creating certain technology which keeps the test subjects complacent while McFist ‘runs’ the facility under the Sorcerer’s occasional supervision

🏠 “Finja” is this crossover’s William Minerva. He was a member of a resistance though no one knows what happened to him- he seemingly disappeared one day, and his title back then - the Ninja - faded into the wind… (there were others like him, but they had barely any luck)

🏠 Skip to present times when Marci’s the current caretaker- we’re introduced to Randy Cunningham and his best Howard Weinerman, they’re nearing twelve but still have a bit before they’re adopted. Randy longs and hopes for a happy family, and who knows maybe they’ll want Howard too

🏠 Norrisville High are of course, the orphans. Randy is an adventurous boy- much more than his friend Howard. He spends his time in the forest; things are happy and they couldn’t be better- and then it’s announced someone’s been adopted

🏠 He feels happy for them, but he also can’t shake a feeling- Randy decides to bring the adopted child their left behind stuffed toy, say his final farewell

🏠 What he sees takes him by surprise (he feels sick to the stomach). Randy is terrified out of his mind as he remains rooted there, unable to will himself to move but there wasn’t any way to forget that thing which ate his sibling - even if they weren’t really related - and he knew he had to do something. He would escape with his family

🏠 Randy immediately goes to tell Howard. Howard is, of course, horrified by this but he doesn’t want to get involved- though after a bit of convincing from Randy, he reluctantly decides to help out (although he’s made to promise not to tell anyone- not yet-)

🏠 I feel at some point Julian, Theresa, and Debbie eventually are clued in on what happened- Randy is desperate to get everyone out, and eventually he learns of “Finja”. He decides he needs to take on the mantle, become the next ninja

🏠 I don’t know who would be sent to Lambda, if that arc happens at all

🏠 (it would be a little funny and mean of me if it was Randy though- in a bad ending version)

🏠 I’m not entirely sure what happens after this, but I do know that eventually we have a scene parallel to the escape scene- Randy and the rest of his allies had trained up to this point, clueing in everyone else (not completely, as he doesn’t want to fully scare them)

🏠 if this does get written- it might not happen anytime soon! I still have a one-shot to work on and a potential multi-chaptered work (unless it’s just a really long one-shot), on top of other projects but I simply couldn’t leave this idea alone for some reason. It doesn’t help I was talking about the anime last night with a friend of mine heh

With that, I’ll be on my way- (sort of) but I hope you enjoy this! This is me and my weird self indulgent ideas-

I have no idea what this alternate universe would even be called, hence why I’m once again leaving it to vote

[sorceresssundries]

I just want to say how much I've been enjoying your poetry!!! It's beautiful.

I've always wanted to try poetry but it doesn't seem to come easily. Do you have any advice?

Well, this is exceptionally kind!

I'll try my best to help, but please bear in mind I'm not an expert or a professional and there is an endless amount of beautiful poetry out there to explore, written by people with more talent than I can even dream of.

I'll offer what I can, but I think creativity is pretty unique to everyone.

I'll put it under a 'Read More', so that people can just skip by if they want.

Here are some tips I can think of:

Read poetry that makes you feel something, even if you're not really sure what the feeling is. Like with all art, doesn't matter how applauded or celebrated it is, if it doesn't move you that doesn't mean you won't be moved. Just means you need to be moved in a different way. Some poets I love to read are: Pablo Neruda, Mary Oliver, Anne Sexton, Emily Dickinson - but like I said, find what moves you and settle into it. I cried at Dr.Seuss last week.

Music - listen to your favourite moody, angsty, uplifting, lyrically charged music. The rhythm of poetry is often as important as the words, and music will help find your rhythm. I have a playlist for when i'm writing, which I won't share because everyone's taste is different, but while writing yesterday's poem I listened to No Distance Left to Run by Blur and it wrecked me.

Speaking of rhythm - read your poetry out loud to yourself. Like plays are meant to be performed, poetry is meant to be spoken. This really helps me to know whether it sounds the way I want it to.

Structure - there aren't any rules! Don't get bogged down in rhyme schemes, iambic pentameters, or any of that nonsense. A lot of poets play around with punctuation, alignment, typeface because there aren't set rules. This is all yours, do what you want with it. Sometimes writing in a strict structure like a Haiku, or Sonnet, is good practice because it forces you to be clear and concise. I like to do this if I have something I want to say, but it gets away from me and I can't mould it's shape the way I would like to.

A poem can be a single line. Don't drag things out because you think it ought to be longer, this dilutes your message.

Decide what you want to say, and get that down first. Mess around with it after. I'm not sure how everyone does it, but poetry certainly doesn't just spill out of my head and onto the paper. It's crafted, not birthed. I get a basic idea down, and then develop a couple of lines I like, work around that, let it sit, go back to it, read it out loud, repeat, until i'm happy with it. That may not be how it works for you, but enjoy playing with it.

The beauty of poetry is that it's deeply personal, yet universal. Write what you want, however you want to and I guarantee it will touch someone, somewhere who has also felt that way.

Be brave! You've got this! You have a voice worth hearing! I felt like a completer wanker the first time I shared any poetry. Poetry is self-indulgent, but fucking indulge in it! Savour and share it!

If you want to chat privately then let's do that! I'm just an internet twat who writes poetry in the voice of a fictional wizard, but hey! If that's someone you want to chat with, then my tower is open to you.

I hope to hear your poetry soon, friend. <3

[kharmii]

watching the news surrounding the 0l!mp!cs fills me with disgust but also with hope. The voices of frustration and resistance against this nonsense are getting louder and louder and more and more frustrated. And at the same time the usual deflection of throwing around insultes like confetti looses more and more it's meaning.

There is still a long way to go... but the winds of change are here. Normalcy is taken over again. And future generations will look at the history books thinking: "TF happened back then? How could insanity rule the whole western world like that??" (just like we are looking back at events less than a century ago and wonder how could all of this happen?)

With enough indoctrination everything is possible...

The Olympics debacle was so badly received I did not see one post glorifying it or even mentioning it here on Tumblr. Not one. It's true there's a push back. At least there are people admitting there's a vocal minority pushing weird stuff as a norm:

Speaking of weird stuff, the new order going out to the mainstream media is to push more the idea that conservative social norms are weirrrd now. Matt Walsh did a montage showing it:

I've had this psyop being pulled on me my whole life, and it hasn't worked. The oft spoken of coworkers have pushed it the most. I'm weirrrrrd for not indulging in the same ruinous self-destructive bad decision making as the rest of them, starting when they were younger into that 'forever in college' party lifestyle and culminating into the day they all went in a big group to get that experimental Covid vaccine. They can sneer at me all they want, but I wouldn't be any one of them for a million dollars, especially since I'd be likely to die from comorbidity of being grotesquely overweight before I could enjoy it all.

It helps I'm only hearing it from Matt Walsh because I don't take in mainstream news or watch much television outside of the few episodes of anime per day, like Black Clover or My Hero Academia. One must curate their media experience same as internet.

And future generations will look at the history books thinking: "TF happened back then? How could insanity rule the whole western world like that??"

Hopefully it will end up that way. The alternative is the end of Western civilization due to suicidal left-wing insanity.

A couple more:

The thing with drag queens.....is anybody else sick of them? -Or is it just me? I'm sick to death of drag queens for the same reason I'm sick of furries and trans people. -Like maybe they were fun and campy for a minute, but then the most obnoxious people on earth had to start injecting them into every damn thing until you can't get away from them.

Let's make 2025 the year people finally get sick of drag queens, trannies, monster fucking and stupid furry bullshit. Autistic people...stop being into trans and go back to being into trains. If someone isn't into trains, they might still be interested in hearing infodumping about railroads, but nobody is interested in hearing about all the boring-as-shit made-up gender 'science' being spewed on Tumblr 24/7.

[in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather]

Your new hitman Mills story is incredible! I love everything about it and I hope you continue it. Your stories are the best! 🖤🖤🖤

I'm so so happy you enjoyed it! It's full of all sorts of nonsense that I adore and therefore it's super self-indulgent, so I am really glad to hear someone else liked it too :D Thank you so much for the kind words and taking the time to leave such a lovely ask, it absolutely made my whole day 🖤🖤🖤

[sintreaties]

Let's be real u love the anon who asked u lots of question right?

Allow me to thank you for this question, because it gave me the chance to speak about something that’s been intriguing me for a while (albeit it’s more of a personal reflection, rather than a conversation with you specifically).

I’ve been answering anon asks for years and because this was my first experience being active in fandom spaces, I’ve come to consider it as a sort of social experiment.

To answer your question: no, I do not enjoy the last few asks. I don’t appreciate when people don’t take the hint and keep sending them.

In part, of course, it’s because I’ve grown tired. Tired of Kakegurui, but also of some of its fans. The asks I used to receive were also much more engaging and some were actually quite funny! Some anons were nice enough to come here just to share something they enjoyed, something unrelated to KKG, because they thought that I’d enjoy it too. I appreciate those anons a lot and I hope they’re having a nice day, just like the anons who reached out to talk about my fics and discuss what they liked or disliked about them.

I can’t remember if I mentioned it here, but for me, the anons of this blog are the equivalent of strangers stopping me in the streets while I’m minding my business. Some people ask for directions (meaning, some come here asking for writing advice and such) and if I can help them, it is my pleasure to do so. Some people come up to me to strike a conversation, and although I don’t always have the patience or the interest to indulge them, I do my best to reply.

And then there’s… the others.

Those are the ones that puzzle me. I don’t take what they say personally, nor do I give it much weight, because in the end, they’re still just strangers on the internet, but I’m still genuinely curious about why they do the things they do. It’s not like I’ve lost sleep over it but even as a writer, I’m very, very interested in understanding this kind of humanity. Everything has a reason, if you care to search for it.

So those anons, right. Some of them don’t even follow me: Why are they here?

Of course, one of the reasons is that this is an open space. You can come in, do your thing, get out. I’ll never know who you are so you don’t really feel like there’s going to be any substantial consequence to what you say.

There’s this quote by Robert A. Caro that goes, “When you have enough power to do what you always wanted to do, then you’re really gonna see what you always wanted to do.”

So you have the power to be rude, and stupid and nonsensical, right?

But why would you do it?

Like, if someone was to tell me “Hey, I don’t appreciate your avances”, well, I wouldn’t send them this kind of stuff:

I’d feel like a loser, you see? I’d show no manners to the person who’s repeatedly said that they don’t appreciate this kind of messages (most importantly when those who send them are really trying to get my cell number!!!) and I’d also show such an incredible loneliness and hopelessness that I couldn’t help but be ashamed of myself.

Plus you’re doing this where everyone can see you! You’re on anon yes, but you know that you’re the one who wrote that stupid, rude or nonsensical ask. How can you not be embarassed about it? I suppose you’re either dumb enough to lack self-awareness or you’re so insecure that you’re much beyond that to torture yourself with silly concepts like dignity and self-respect.

I don’t mean it as an insult, really, I’m just trying to draw my own conclusions here. My power fantasy is to be a good, kind, interesting person in a community of equally good and nice and interesting people and yours is… this? Why?

Reading some of these asks feels like getting a glimpse of someone’s intrusive thoughts. You can tell that they didn’t stop to think before sending them. My mutuals have to thank me, because despite what I’ve been told recently by a friend, I still spare them the worst ones (which, curiously, have only really started to appear recently). This kind of stuff gives me such bad second-hand embarassment that if I try to put myself in the anon’s shoes I deal myself psychic damage.

Most of those people don’t even come to me because I’m Sintreaties and they have a problem specifically with Sintreaties. The problematic anons either disregard or forget the fact that they’re real, living people talking to another real, living person — who, incidentally, has nothing to do with them.

And it’s incredible, because again, I wouldn’t be able to act like some of you! Sometimes it helps to think that no matter how many times I’ve hit rock bottom, I’ve never sent anon hate nor have I ever harrassed someone online just because I could. But then, even in videogames I never pick the “bad route”. What’s the fun in that? If I have to be mean and pick a fight with someone, hell, let it be a fight that can win me something more than whatever you get from arguing with Twitter users.

In the end, the question for me isn’t “why are you doing this to me”.

For me, the question becomes: why are you doing this to yourselves?

Bro, go for a walk! Talk to your friends, and if you’ve got none, go ahead and make some! Go for a coffee all by yourself and joke with the guy at the counter! Jesus Christ man, you can do better than waste your time sending that kind of asks to a random person on the internet! You show so little self-love that I can’t help but feel compassion. Where’s your dignity? Where’s your self-respect, the innate, human drive that pushes us to be better, no matter what? If you’re so lonely and insecure, do something about it! The world is full of people who wish to be your friend and to know you for who you are. Take care of yourself, for god’s sake!

“Lighten up, it’s not that deep” — for some of you, yeah. We’re talking about the same people who can barely read and comprehend a manga, I don’t expect them to understand my point.

(And I don’t mean it as a “look at me, I am so superior to you, because I actually use my head to think things critically and I’m still in touch with my emotions even in online settings.”)

For you it’s just one or two weird asks. Since 2019, I’ve received hundreds of them.

Again, I’m still relatively new to fandom. I’ve “only” been around for a few years and I’ve mostly only interacted with KKG fans. I’ve also always tried to curate my experience, which is already lacking on its own compared to someone who’s been around for decades. On that note, I wonder if some older, more experienced users would like to share their opinions on the matter — on anon too, or course.

I still want to keep my askbox open, because some anons really have something new and interesting to bring to the table. Remember though: it’s not 2020 anymore. From now on, I really do suggest thinking well about an ask before sending it.

And on a final note, I’m told that one of my asks made it to the KKG struggles account on Twitter so I’d personally like to thank and shake hands with all the anons that made it possible🤝🍾🎉

[citrus-wall-paint]

CHAT IDK HOW TO PUT POSTS UNDER A CUT SO IM SORRY IF THIS DEVOURS UR SCREEN BUT heres some "deleted" scenes from my fma fix it au!! (nothing really needs fixed (exept for Greed's death) But its really just more self indulgent stuff 4 me) Basically just 2 one shots based fully only the FMAB timeline but inspired by some 03 events :3 OKAY ENJOY I HOPE THAT MAKES SENSE

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

Ishval, Summer of 1900

“Why am I here?” she echoed, a bit shocked at the blunt question. That was something she couldn’t truly answer. Simply, she was here to get insight. To stir conflict in this region that was soon to be wiped out. But of course, she couldn't tell him that, besides, that job… that job was over. So why did she keep coming back? “Why do you let me in?”

He laughed, running a hand through his white hair. My, he was gorgeous, but that was not a thought that she was supposed to have. At least, not one that she should let affect her so deeply.

“I guess you’ve bewitched me.” he answered in a soft whisper, softer than anyone’s ever spoken to Lust. she was taken aback. She hated this feeling. This stretching pain in her chest, the ache in her entire body, the pounding in her head. But she couldn’t get rid of it. And yet she couldn’t get enough. She was addicted to it. To him. And yet she was disgusted by him. That he was so foolish to let her get close. She could cut his throat right now, and he very well may still smile at her. And why? “I suppose that was a foolish thing to say” he added sheepishly after her long stretch of silence.

“Not at all” she hummed, a pang of disgust ringing in her heart when she heard the softness in her own voice. Yes… yes, that was all. She was using him. This was manipulation. She’s done this for two hundred years, why would she ever hesitate now? This man followed her like a dog ever since she came to Ishval, and she entertained it. She’d been entertaining it for months now. Now, even after Envy had started the war, she kept coming. Because… she had to, right? She needed his research… yes. That was it. As useless as it likely was, that's why she was here. It had to be. “I have to thank you. Not many of your people would look at someone like me so kindly.”

“Nonsense.” he hummed, closing the book he was absentmindedly skimming through. His research could wait. He had time. If this got bad, if he had to make sacrifices, if he was lost to this… Well, it was inevitable that she would stop coming to Ishval eventually due to the danger, so he had to use his time with her as well as he could. “You’re not the one going around killing my people. I have no reason to be angry with you. There are violent Amestrians just as well as there are dangerous Ishvallans, we can't start discourse among friends during this struggle.”

God, he was an idealist, wasn't he. He had no idea how much hell he was truly about to endure, how Lust would be the one watching from the shadows, unscathed, smiling. Normally, that idea would make her smile. But right then, she felt ill. Before she could even think to respond, he rested a hand on her upper arm. “Don't be afraid. We’ll make it through”

As he moved in, she met him in the middle, gently resting her forehead against hers. What was wrong with her? In a horrible instant, she thought of her brother. They were created together, born from the same desire… was she destined to be just as pitiful as him? She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but just as her lips parted, she felt his against them, and she lost herself.

He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake. But the idea that Solaris may very well be gone tomorrow nearly made him lose his mind. He loved her so much. Honestly, he wanted her to get out, to run as far away as she could… though, selfishly, he wanted to go with her. But he couldn’t. He had to take care of his brother, he had to finish this research, to make sure his alchemy could help people, even if he died in this war. He only hoped Solaris would understand.

She understood him perfectly well. What she didn’t understand was why she didn’t cut him. Why didn’t she skin him and hang him for his entire family to see just for touching her? But… How long could she lie to herself? How long could she deny that these disgusting feelings were coming from the truest pits of her heart. And the fact that she relaxed into his embrace, that she pulled him in and let him hold her… she was just as pathetic as her brother. At least she knew he would die soon. She would never have to give in again, never have to feel so grossly human. Once he was gone, she could be herself. She could refocus. But she couldnt be the one to kill him.

And she didn’t have to. The war in Ishval raged on, and since that night, Lust hadn’t dared to have gone back. There was no reason to. She knew he was gone. That part of her life was over, now it was time to forget about it.

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

Armstrong Residence, Autumn of 1914, to summer of 1915

The light pouring in from the outside gently kissed her cheeks, barely filtered by the white drapes covering the open window on the opposite end of the room. Martel groaned, shifting uncomfortably. Every inch of her body was in searing pain. It seemed like an eternity before she cracked her eyes open, only to be met by a brilliantly lit, extravagantly decorated bedroom. However, her eyes only landed on the machine next to her, the sun’s light reflecting off the metal as it beeped. It took an embarrassingly long time for her to realize she was hooked up to it, even more so that this… wasn’t a hospital. It couldn’t be. What was going on? Her mind was so foggy she could hardly manage to panic as she carefully turned her head to the other side of the room. Expensive sheets, expensive drapes, expensive ceiling, ex- Jesus!

Catherine giggled as Martel finally turned to face her, her tired eyes now wide with shock.

“Who- who are you? Where-” Martel started, but Cathrine put a gentle finger up to her lips. After all, she didn’t even know who this was - just that Alex was helping her.

“I’ll get my brother” she said, almost too cheerily considering Martel’s state before disappearing.

She let out a sharp sigh when she was alone again, only now fully realizing what had happened. Roa… Dolcetto… Greed… everyone was gone. She should be dead too. If she wasn’t so badly injured, she’d think this was some weird waiting room in heaven - even then, it was a stretch to assume she’d have a peaceful afterlife. But it was clear that she wasn’t there yet. What was becoming clear, however, was the fact that her arm was gone. From the stub where her arm was, there was a deep scar that cut across her chest and down to her opposite hip. Did Bradley miss on purpose? Or did she really move away just in time? The idea that he didn’t stab to kill, that he kept her alive just to die of an infection while mourning her friends… It made her sick.

However, she wasn’t going to die of an infection, or at all, for that matter. No, the Armstrong family has had the most reputable team of doctors for generations, and Alex ensured that she received the utmost care. After all, Alex felt… responsible for her. How could he not? These were his war buddies, his brothers and sisters, and he had to stand by and let Bradley slaughter them all. He knew they weren’t bad people. They couldn’t be. He was just grateful that given the responsibility to take care of Martel’s body, that he realized there was still life within her, and was given a chance to save her.

Now, he threw open the door, nearly giving the poor girl a heart attack. “You’re awake!” he beamed, and he just barely kept himself from giving her a big, comforting, muscular hug, but only because she was still recovering. He did, however, grab her remaining hand and grasp it tightly. “And you’re warming up! Very good! How are you feeling? Let me fetch some food!”

As Alex rambled, going in about 50 different directions, Martel blinked plainly up at him. This was… the guy from the devils nest. Yeah, Roa used to know him… so was this safe? She wasn’t sure, he was with the military after all, and she wasn’t about to be an experiment again.

However, he could see the unease and defensiveness on her face, and he stopped in his tracks, grabbing her hand once more, his face deadly serious. “I am not going to hurt you. What Bradley did was wrong. Unjust. You’ll be safe here.”

His sudden vow took her off guard, but it did ease her mind, if only a bit. “Yeah.” was all she could mutter, her eyes now downcast. She couldn't get those images out of her head. Dolcetto and Roa, cut in pieces just before her eyes… and Greed… killed and tortured until he couldn’t stand. Was he still alive?

Suddenly, Alex was holding out tissues to her, and only then did she realize she was crying. Sheesh, Dolcetto would give her so much trouble for crying over him… but it was hard to deny the fact that the overwhelming loss and guilt was too much to handle. She felt useless. And yet… Greed could be alive. He had to be, nothing could keep him down - right? Even if he wasn’t, even if it was a one in a million chance, she had to hold onto that. She had to find him. She couldn’t imagine he was having much more luck with this loss.

-

She spent six months with the Armstrongs, and yet it felt like absolutely no time at all. Granted, the whole time she was recovering - she had lost limbs before, sure, but she’d never had automail, and man, it was tough. She had already had it for nearly 5 months and she could still hardly move that arm, her shoulder constantly ached. Not to mention, every time she saw herself in the mirror, she saw that scar. That damn scar… it would always remind her of her loss, but it also reminded her of what she needed; her brother. She needed to find Greed, whenever he was. That goal kept her going, kept her motivated and sane. It made the pain of her surgeries worth it, the recovery and strenuous training, all so that she could be reunited with her family, if only a part of it.

She was applying some salve to her cut, hopefully to ease the sting even if just a bit, when she heard a crash downstairs. Her heart jumped, and she stood still for a moment. Did something fall? Was someone breaking in? She didn’t know if Alex was home yet, but she quietly grabbed her pocket knife and made her way downstairs. SHe happened to look out the window at the bottom of the staircase to see that the rest of the Armstrongs were… leaving? What the hell was happening? Another crash and a yell, and now Martel was running towards the noise, only to find Alex… totally beaten on the floor, a terrifying woman looming over him.

“Oh hell no” she muttered, slowly backing away, but the woman pointed a finger at her, stopping her dead in her tracks. “Who the hell are you, and why are you in my house?”

“Oh! No Olivier it’s okay sh-”

“Shut the Hell up Alex I didn’t ask you!”

Oh hell no. What the hell was happening? And that name… oh my god! This is his other Sister! What the hell, she’s nothing like the rest of them! This is insane, these people are so weird!

“I- i’m Martel, your brother and I are war buddies” she said quickly, trying to save herself and get Alex out of that death grip.

“Hah! That’s cheap, Alex hardly gets to call himself a soldier.” though, she did get off of him, taking a few steps towards Martel. “Pleasantries are over. This is my mansion now. Get out.”

“Woah, hold on! I-”

“You are in my house, you have no place staying!”

“Olivier, please, she has nowhere to go.” he insisted as he stood, but Olivier had no interest until he spoke up again. “She may have important insight on the homunculi.”

Martel’s eyes widened a bit as Alex just outed her like that, and Olivier’s glare didn’t get any warmer. However, she suddenly turned to leave. “You two, living room, now.”

-

Martel didn’t have much choice. She told her everything she knew, and then everything Bradley did to them.she managed to stay put together though, she’s spent enough tears on this - it was time to stand up. “It must be hard to hear that your Fuhrer is corrupt”

“Please, I already knew that. It makes no difference, he was always just another worm in my way.”

“Ohhhkay.”

“So, Olivier? What do you make of this?” Alex asked, a bit uneasy.

“Well,” she sighed, finally breaking eye contact with Martel for the first time since they met. “I knew Bradley was powerful, but killing a homunculus all on his own takes a different kind of strength.” she mused before turning back to Martel. “I'm not worried. However, when the time comes that I need to call on you, you will answer, understood? You may stay in this house for now, but if you shy away when it all comes crashing, I will not hesitate to kill you for your cowardice.”

“I will die if it means seeing Bradly fall from grace.”

“Very well.” she sighed once more, standing up. “Now, Alex, get out.”

[polskasroka]

A Distraction | Chapter 4 NSFW (Fic finished)

Here's the last chapter of my MelOdy fic, hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Melinoë/Odysseus

Tags: Older Man/Younger Woman, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Pining, Romance, Eventual Romance, Self-Doubt, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Spoilers, Written During Hades II (Supergiant Video Game) Early Access, Character Study, mel is a tough gal overall, but she has her weaker moments, Denial of Feelings, Nightmares, Kissing, Eventual Smut, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Men Crying, yes it's od who's crying, dragging out the man's traumatic experiences at the end of the fic let's go, no details tho

AO3 link

Or Chapter 4 (7080 words) under Read More

As usual, plans don’t work out as they should. It’s due to Melinoë plunging into her duties, which these days seem to be more consuming than they sometimes appear to her. Who knows, maybe she’s just doing her job or she’s actually unconsciously postponing the plans that she made during her conversation with Aphrodite. It’s not that she’s scared, no. She hasn’t chickened out again. She simply hasn’t engaged in this kind of pastime or bonding for quite a while and it surely won’t be the same as when she was younger.

And it’s a different person that she longs to spend more time alone with. It’s not someone roughly “her age,” at least appearance- and mentality-wise, it’s someone older, more experienced. A somewhat uncharted territory for Melinoë, which she’s more than curious to discover once she has a chance.

But for now – she doesn’t. Melinoë’s currently busy with dealing with Chronos’ nonsense once more, holding Zorephet in her hands, bracing for the attack, knowing that her weapon will grant her a victory.

Melinoë faces the Titan, glaring at him, her mismatched eyes locked with his. His whole attitude us full of impudence, that smugness ever-present on his face and it’s driving Melinoë insane, and she can’t wait to wipe that smug grin off of his maw once again.

“Little one, you’ll have wrinkles if you keep frowning like this,” he says nonchalantly, seated on the throne that does not belong to him.

“Won’t look worse than you, that’s for sure,” Melinoë retorts, smirk pulling on the corners of her lips.

“Humorous. But why waste time for me, knowing that you cannot win, if there’s something waiting for you in Erebus? Why not indulge in that and make this thing easier for us both.” Chronos’ voice becomes distorted at the end of his utterance, sending chills down the Goddess’ spine.

“What…? I thought I’d thrown you out of my head!”

“You have, indeed. But I’ve learnt more than you can imagine.”

Enraged, Melinoë lunges at the Titan. Hatred and fury are her fuel and she and Zorephet are thriving because of that.

This is what pushes her towards the victory tonight. The immense fury and animosity towards Chronos.

She returns to shadow in that state and the grass in her stone circle feels freezing to her legs – there, where they’re not fiery – and hands. Melinoë huffs and puffs as she stands up and, for a moment, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Glancing behind her, she notices Frinos on his usual spot and also Toula who seems to have decided to spend some time there as well. Melinoë’s anger dissipates immediately and she lets out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding.

It was quite a run.

The Goddess needs some time on her own, though. Preferably at the Cocytus.

Without hesitation, Melinoë thus strolls through her tent and out of it, glad that she doesn’t meet no one on her way to the pier. As soon as she arrives there, she tunes in to the gentle sloshing and splashing of water against the wood and feels herself drifting away. To increase the healing effect of her surroundings, Melinoë lies down on the damp planks of the pier and closes her eyes, disregarding the floor that’s not the most comfortable.

But it doesn’t matter now. Melinoë’s mind begins to float together with the tide and she soon relaxes, breathing evenly, not thinking about anything in particular. She knows that she has plans which she wants to fulfil but there’ll be time for that later. There’ll also be time for more attempts to defeat Chronos or Eris, depending on where the Princess decides to go next. There’ll be time for everything, although there’s also time for nothing in the current climate.

Melinoë even dares to wonder if she’s not overexerting herself again. The last time she did, didn’t end well for her and she’s wiser than to risk it one more time. Not when the stakes are this high. But then – were the stakes with Icarus not high? For young Melinoë, they surely were and they’d be just as high were she to perform the ritual once more. She’s curious if it’d work this time.

She thinks of the positive outcomes. Icarus would be overjoyed. Maybe, he would drop the shyness. Maybe, he’d make a move on Melinoë and they’d continue what they once started and what didn’t last long at all.

She thinks of the negative outcomes. She could obliterate Icarus’ soul. She could harm herself irreversibly. But that’s the worst of the worst. So, maybe…

“You’re gonna slack off like this all day while there’s still a titan to slay?” goes an utterly dissatisfied voice from above Melinoë.

She cracks her eyes open only to see Nemesis’ unhappy face over her.

“Slacking off?” Melinoë narrows her eyes and sits up, staring at Nemesis. “A moment of rest is what I’m having. I deserve it.”

“Do you, now?”

“Do you want me to push things too far? Are you aware of the consequences of–”

“There is no pushing things too far when it comes to Chronos. If you happen to have such inhibitions, know that I do not. I would not hesitate to–”

“I don’t hesitate when I challenge Chronos, Nem,” Melinoë cuts the Chthonic Goddess off. “Never. Don’t question it.”

“As you wish, Princess.”

Melinoë huffs, annoyed, and stands up to properly face Nemesis. She’s towering over Melinoë, true, but it doesn’t scare her. Not anymore.

“I really wish you would stop with this, Nem,” Melinoë speaks a tad more softly now. “We’ve got a lot of problems already, we don’t need such petty disagreements in the Crossroads. Some would feast on that.”

“Eris.”

“For instance, yes. Sadly.”

“That’s her domain. Can’t blame her for that, no matter how irritating she is. Same with me. You can’t blame me for wanting to get to that damned titan and kill him for good. Preferably rip him apart into the smallest pieces possible and throw them all over the Earth.” Nemesis’ tone has grown calmer, yet it still carries that trademark monotonous meanness.

“That’s one thing we do agree on.” Melinoë shrugs. She sighs and adds, “Nem, what is your problem with me? Tell me, please.”

Retribution stays silent for a moment, her piercing eyes never leaving Melinoë’s. The Princess lays her hands on her hips and quirks her eyebrow up in anticipation.

“Don’t mind it that much when you decide to spend your time here. But I don’t like it when you spend it with a mortal. Careful with that one. My brother seems to be all over him like a complete fool but I hope you’re smarter than that. Though, lately, you’ve been proving me wrong.”

“I know what I’m doing, Nem. Thanks for caring… I guess?” Melinoë chuckles nervously, her look softening.

“Whatever. Focus on the task is what I’m saying.”

If Melinoë hears the words “task” or “focus” from Nemesis one more time, she’ll lose it.

“Entertain yourself with the shades however you want. Or with my brother. Or with whoever else you fancy more than you should now.”

“Hey, I…!”

“Don’t get distracted, Princess.”

Melinoë wants to reply but as she opens her mouth, Nemesis has already whipped around and stomped away from the Princess. With a long and exasperated sigh, Melinoë lets her shoulders drop and looks to the floor, searching for answers there.

Nemesis is impossible.

Although a couple of nights have passed since Melinoë’s talk with Aphrodite, she hasn’t forgotten about what she planned to do on that night. After the most recent runs have taken a toll on the Goddess, she’s decided that it’s high time she unwound, lest she should overdo the whole thing and lose a limb or get unnecessarily heavily hurt by Chronos. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

Melinoë reminds herself about a bottle of ambrosia that she’s been carrying around in her purse. She accidentally discovers it while fishing the bag for seeds that she’s gathered in the last journeys both to the Underworld and the Surface. Rubbing the smooth glass with her finger, she glances over her shoulder and knows exactly who she’s going to share the ambrosia with. It seems just perfect for the occasion.

It's sometime later in the day or night that she approaches Odysseus after fumbling with the Arcana Cards at the Altar. Before she walks over to him, though, Melinoë pulls the ambrosia bottle out of her bag and hides it behind her back, so that the tactician doesn’t have a chance to refuse before he’s offered the drink.

Out of the corner of his eye, Odysseus notices Melinoë, marks something on the map on the table in front of him and then he can give the Goddess his undivided attention. Melinoë’s already sporting a mischievous smile on her face, not too skilful at hiding her intentions well when it comes to such situations.

“What is it this time, Goddess?” he asks neutrally, folding his arms.

“Well, would you consider spending some time with me this evening? If you have no other urgent responsibilities, that is,” Melinoë clarifies but her tone’s full of hope.

“Your invitation itself belongs to the category of urgent responsibilities. How could I refuse?” A slight smirk accompanies his warm response.

“Certainly not when I also have this…” Melinoë brings the bottle to the front and holds it before herself. “I thought that this can taste better when shared with someone too. And… drinking it with someone I find dear is a tradition that I’ll gladly observe.” She feels her cheeks flush a faint pink.

“I, erm…” Odysseus collects his thoughts for a bit, dragging his eyes off of the bottle to lock them back with Melinoë’s mismatches irises. “You do flatter me, Goddess, but I don’t think that I’m particularly worthy of the gods’ drink.”

“Are you trying to refuse now?”

“No, I…! I wouldn’t even try! What I’m saying is that…” He pauses for a moment, and then squints at Melinoë. He puts two and two together and chuckles, bringing a more vibrant blush onto Melinoë’s cheeks. “Took me by surprise there, Goddess, I appreciate that. But all those bottles of nectar, baths in the springs and now this… You’re spoiling me.”

“Who else if not you?” Melinoë shrugs innocently, her gaze both playful and seemingly timid.

Melinoë likes to think that she’s managed to embarrass Odysseus there at least to the smallest extent.

“So… Is it alright if we go now?”

“Where to?”

“Same place as the last time?” Melinoë swears she can’t stop smiling.

“The shades are going to be looking at us again. Don’t you mind, Goddess?”

That question is blatantly on purpose. Bastard.

“I never minded, you know that, Od.”

“You got me there.”

And so they’re off to the taverna and their spot from the night they drank nectar there together. As they stroll there, Melinoë wonders if this time it’s going to end similarly to the previous one or if things are going to be pushed further. It may also turn out that nothing too special will happen but the Goddess hopes that it won’t be the case. After all, she can feel her heart skip a beat once in a while now and that can’t go in vain.

Besides, she deserves some fun. She deserves the life of a goddess. She won’t let anyone deny her the pleasures that she could feel entitled to. Of course, Melinoë is not the one to be forcing someone to abide by her will because that sounds much too wrong to her liking. However, it doesn’t mean that she’s going to refuse herself the possibility of a divine-like pastime when she can obtain it in a more mutually respectful way.

And she’s not going to refuse whatever it is that her heart wants. In the long run, it really doesn’t seem to be the right thing. It’s tiring and she’s got other concerns to handle, she doesn’t need more of them. When she has the possibility to manage one of the whole bunch, why not jump at the opportunity?

What’s more, how long can one pursue the same and only aim? Melinoë’s been feeling like a fish in a fishbowl, mindlessly chasing something that’s seeming more and more infeasible with each attempt, since there’s no end to it in sight. It may be that this load of work is getting to her. It may be that the constant focus on her task is a burden that she needs to lift off of her shoulders to be able to continue with any aim that she chooses to follow.

So time passes and although Melinoë’s having a jolly time with Odysseus, there’s the thought of her task lurking in the back of her head. She’d love to get rid of it for at least a moment but it seems to never leave her. At some point, Melinoë focuses on it so much, that she stops listening to what Odysseus is saying. Once he notices that, he pauses his monologue and turns to look at Melinoë, who’s intensely staring at something in front of her.

It's only after a couple of seconds that she gets the hint of something being off, so she shakes her head and faces Odysseus, confusion written all over her face.

“Why did you stop?” she wonders, the genuine surprise makes her look too innocent.

“You weren’t listening to me, were you, Goddess?”

“Oh, no… No, I wasn’t. Sorry, Od. Could you repeat, please?”

“What’s troubling you?” he gets straight to the point, his question serious, leaving no room for Melinoë to escape.

“Ugh…” she sighs, gazing into the shade’s eyes, finding comfort in that kind and understanding look. “It’s about my task. Almost everyone keeps reminding me about it as if I forgot what I’ve been prepared for my whole life. I know I shouldn’t let others’ opinions affect me this much but here I am, I guess.”

Odysseus furrows his brows for a moment and then offers Melinoë a polite and compassionate smile.

“By ‘almost everyone’ you mean Nemesis, right, Goddess?”

“Mostly,” Melinoë sniggers a little.

“Jealous is what she is, it’s as simple as that. It seems that the older you are, the worse at handling her own envy she’s getting. But no matter what she says, you know what you’re like. You know what you’re capable of. You can–”

His words are uplifting, true, but…

“Don’t you start talking about the task and its importance now too or I’ll–”

“I’m not planning to,” he replies quickly and hands Melinoë the bottle of ambrosia from which he drank during the monologue from a moment ago that is long forgotten now.

“Thanks, Od.”

Melinoë smiles and drops her own gaze in embarrassment. She then takes a swig from the bottle and sees how proud Odysseus is of her doing that. After all, they’ve both come here to unwind and it seems that the ambrosia is working better than nectar because they have no interest in the fact whether the shades at the taverna will be talking about them or not.

“Even Headmistress isn’t so monothematic. She seems to understand that I need a moment of rest from time to time.” Melinoë chuckles to herself, staring at the ground next to Odysseus.

“What’s so funny about it?” he asks, amused.

“She also told me to be careful around mortal men,” the Princess replies almost nonchalantly and then raises her head to lock her eyes with Odysseus’ once more.

He looks puzzled but Melinoë is sure that he knows what she’s talking about. Her ambrosia-fuelled confidence proves to be of great help.

“She certainly, erm…” Odysseus clears his throat. “Has her reasons.”

“Rightly so?” Melinoë tilts her head and shifts closer to her companion, planting her hands on the grass in front of Odysseus for stability.

Odysseus’ resolve is so weak right now, that he’s nearly ashamed of himself. It must be because of the ambrosia, since without it, he wouldn’t let himself glance down at Melinoë’s lips every once in a while. She’s so close, that he can feel her breath on his skin and her mismatched eyes have got that mischievous sparkle glinting in them that is hardly resistable.

“Well, why don’t you find out yourself? That’s the most precious experience, after all,” he says, sounding barely affected by the Princess’ proximity. Odysseus counts that as his own personal victory. Still, he knows that Melinoë will make him lose this inner battle of his.

“I’ve found out myself, once. It didn’t end well. Headmistress knows it. So do you.”

“Indeed, I do. But this… this won’t fix anything, so why…?”

“I don’t want to be disappointed again,” Melinoë admits quietly, her voice shaking a little now. She swallows and lays her right hand on Odysseus’ cheek, the usual coolness of a shade’s skin a contrast to her warm fingers. “Will you disappoint me, Odysseus?”

“I won’t, Goddess.”

The low and sincere tone of his melts Melinoë’s heart and she swoons immediately. She lifts her face just a tad, just enough to be able to crash her lips against Odysseus’. She doesn’t hesitate and neither does he.

Melinoë squeezes her eyes shut to relish the moment and drown in it. Inhaling, she cups Odysseus’ face with both of her hands now, seemingly pulling herself even closer to him. Then, the Princess moves on to nipping on Odysseus’ lower lip, making him grab her phantasmal wrist and slide up along it until his hand is placed atop Melinoë’s. A soft sigh comes out from Melinoë’s lungs and she’s surprised with it herself, which has her eyes snap open.

The plain shock on her mien draws a chuckle from Odysseus that brings bright pink onto Melinoë’s cheeks. It all ultimately breaks their kiss but their lips never stop brushing against one another, not even when Melinoë takes her time and scans Odysseus’ eyes and face from this close. She’s greatly enjoying it and the man doesn’t interrupt. Besides, he can’t resist the way Melinoë’s started rubbing his cheekbones with her thumbs only to splay her fingers and kiss Odysseus again.

Her breathing’s clearly picked up the pace and Melinoë is determined in what she’s doing. In fact, she’s so decisive that Odysseus has to lean against his hands so as not to fall onto his back because of the Goddess’ intensity.

It is a bit much for him to process at first, true. But it’s not something he can’t deal with. Quite the contrary – he will handle it with pleasure, no matter how dizzy it makes him feel. Surely, the ambrosia has influenced the sensation but it’s never going to beat the effect that Melinoë has on him.

And it’s not the first time he’s been faced with such a situation. Well, maybe he hasn’t made up with a goddess before but it won’t scare him. It never has. It shouldn’t, at least. Not with Melinoë.

With any possible curses and atrocities aside, Odysseus needs to regain some control, even if it’s by challenging the Goddess a tad and risking things he doesn’t want to think about. Having thought that, the shade wraps one of his arms around Melinoë’s waist and she acts upon it sooner and much more eagerly than expected.

In the blink of an eye, Melinoë’s straddling Odysseus’ lap, smiling to herself and into their kiss that’s only growing more and more heated. Squeezing the Princess’ side slightly, Odysseus has pulled a couple of little whimpers from the Goddess’ throat and made more pink appear on her cheeks, neck and ears.

It’s then his turn to put the kiss into a halt, albeit unwillingly so. The need to just gaze at Melinoë is too strong not to give in to it and Melinoë did a similar thing a moment ago anyway. The Princess doesn’t shy away from his careful look and calmly lays her hands on his broad shoulders.

Odysseus is enamoured with her and it’s as clear as day to Melinoë. It flatters her a lot and she can’t help but grin and Odysseus thinks he’s going to die again and get reborn right there, at the bank of the Cocytus. Her smile is everything to him at this very moment and neither of them cares about how much their attitudes and acts are the result of being drunk on ambrosia.

However, at this point, they can’t be sure how much of it is the drink’s effect. The way they seem to want one another surpasses the wonderful effects of the gods’ brew. Their hearts skip a beat when they spare a second to ponder over that.

“You’re beautiful, Goddess,” Odysseus says, his gaze one with Melinoë’s.

“Thanks, Od.” She doesn’t admit it but she feels a sudden fire ripple through her body. “I’ve been thinking…” Melinoë continues and shrugs oh so innocently that the tactician has to swallow. “Would you like to accompany me to my tent?”

Odysseus has to reconsider everything before he lets himself believe in what he’s just heard. Apart from that, there’s the well-known pull from the inside that quickly finds its way downwards and doesn’t want to be ignored.

“Goddess….” He stops mid-sentence not to let out a pathetic moan as Melinoë deliberately shifts in his lap.

“No, I don’t want to hear nothing about the shades around or Nem–”

“… lead the way.”

Melinoë’s mouth falls open a little before a wide smile lights up her face once again. She then stands up (praise the merciful Fates!) and helps Odysseus do the same. Yet, to him, it looks more like a reason for her to grab his hand and hold it in order to begin her quick and confident stroll to the tent.

While he actually pays attention to whoever they might encounter on their way to the tent, Melinoë couldn’t care less. It’s obvious that she shouldn’t be worried about it, she’s a goddess. And Odysseus? He’s a shade. A shade that hasn’t lost themselves in death and decay but a shade nonetheless.

At that moment of hesitation, even Icarus’ words claiming that shades and goddesses don’t mix make their way into Odysseus’ head. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, though, for he soon finds himself inside Melinoë’s tent.

She abruptly stops dead in her tracks once there, making Odysseus almost bump into her. She stands still and then says, “Dora? Are you here?”

There’s silence and no one says a word, listening to any sound that the shade could make. After a couple of moments that Melinoë deems enough, she shrugs and turns around, so that Odysseus can see that bright smile of hers again. It brings a genuine, warm smile onto his own lips and he lets Melinoë lead him on until she sits atop the table in the centre of the tent. She then pulls Odysseus closer by his clothes, so that he ends up standing between her legs, his hands on both sides of her thighs, atop the table.

The leverage proves highly useful, since Melinoë momentarily wraps her arms around his neck, so that she can pull herself higher and kiss him again.

And the kiss is different this time. It’s more fiery, passionate. Melinoë opens her mouth to deepen the kiss and Odysseus has no choice but to comply.

He gives her all that he can, there’s no inhibitions in the way he’s returning the kiss. The fact that she’s smiling all the time, something that is broken only by her small gasps, has Odysseus quiver. It’s almost unlike him to react like this, like he never met someone of this import before.

The thought itself almost angers him and he decides to channel it into even more effort. With a low hum from within his chest, Odysseus lays his hand on Melinoë’s thigh, which has her support herself on her palms behind her. She sniggers lightly and her eyes shine as she pecks Odysseus’ lips and then sits a bit more upright.

Curious, Odysseus watches her next moves, her flesh in a firm grip of the man’s that she doesn’t brush away. Instead, she lifts her hands and turns her face to the side a bit, so that Odysseus ends up leaving little kisses on the corner of her lips. He immediately reminds himself about the first time he’d done that and the memory warms his heart. He also almost stops caring about what Melinoë’s doing right in front of him.

Once he realises that, she’s already taken off her gorget and is working on the tie of her dress. She still manages to notice him gape at her and it amuses her greatly. After all, it’s not like he hasn’t seen her naked because he has, back when they spent time in the Hot Spring.

But it was different. Totally different.

On gods, it is different now, although Melinoë’s bare only to her waist. The way Odysseus is looking at her is surely raising her self-esteem but despite that, she still blushes a vivid pink that paints her cheeks, neck and ears. And since that neck is on full display, Odysseus considers it a blasphemy not to lean in and plant kiss after kiss on Melinoë’s skin there.

She lets him do it, giving him more access as she tilts her head to the side, so that he can lick the side of her throat. It sends chills down Melinoë’s spine and her toes curl. A graze of Odysseus’ teeth has her tighten her legs and stick her fiery heels into the spots above the backs of the man’s knees and he hisses at the burn that might not blister but hurts anyway.

“Sorry,” Melinoë says, her hand on his cheek to make him look at her. “Od?”

“Yes, Goddess?”

He’s clinging onto each little word she says and Melinoë can clearly see it and it’s making her feel funny on the inside.

“Take your clothes off.”

Her tone is somewhat serious in all its innocence and it’s like a challenge to Odysseus. Thereby, he shall treat it as one.

With confidence, he stands straight, his chin up, and his usual crooked smirk back in its place. Melinoë averts her gaze for a moment or two and that’s when the shade steals a glance at her slim, naked chest.

Barely any words could describe the beauty that’s there in her youth and life energy, despite her being so strongly tied to the Underworld and its residents. So for now, Odysseus just thinks that Melinoë’s beautiful, while being more than aware of hundreds of words that he could use to depict her and that would not suffice anyhow.

In order to have a better view, Melinoë leans back a bit, propped on her hands against the table, while her eyes are roaming up and down Odysseus’ frame. She watches him swallow, thinking that she’s made him uncomfortable for a second there but the thought’s soon gone when his scarf and cloak get thrown onto the ground.

It’s only a prelude to the full breadth of the shade’s shoulders that the Goddess is yet to see and she’s looking forward to it. Melinoë even lets her mouth hang slightly open as she takes in all the views that Odysseus is revealing to her one article of his clothing at a time.

Although busy with undressing himself, Odysseus does gaze back at Melinoë; sometimes their looks even meet. He then gets rewarded with a radiant smile from the Princess, one that only encourages him to soon stand in front of her in his birthday suit.

Her sparkling stare fills him with pride and so does her open mouth. The Goddess shifts on her spot to get closer to Odysseus, so that her face is level with his chest. Melinoë doesn’t miss the quivering exhale of the man and it raises chills along her spine. Apart from that, the view right before her has her shiver and feel that tightening sensation at the bottom of her belly.

Melinoë then unceremoniously lays her hands on Odysseus’ sides and presses her lips against his sternum. There’s that little hum deep behind his ribs that has Melinoë plant a couple of kisses upwards and then downwards, until she gives the shade’s abs some licks and pecks. Her fingers keep rubbing circles atop Odysseus’ warm (at most!) skin or she moves her palms up and down a bit, and the touch is nearly blistering to him.

And it appears surreal to him as well. The reverence with which Melinoë’s treating him is something he’d never think he’d receive from a goddess. It’s almost too much for him to grasp and Melinoë can clearly see it once she glances up at him and their eyes meet again. She can swear that he blushes a tiny bit and it warms her heart and boosts her ego.

With confidence, the Goddess stands up, hopping off of the table, her thumbs now stroking Odysseus’ stomach. It seems to her that he tries to avert his gaze for a second but she wouldn’t let him do so no matter how hard he tried.

“Are you shy, Od?” Melinoë tilts her head to the side and it’s one of the most adorable things she’s ever done in Odysseus’ eyes.

“Me? Ha! Never, Goddess.” As if to prove his words, he grabs Melinoë’s chin and places his other hand on her waist.

“Good. You’ve no reason to,” she muses, looking at him from under her eyelashes.

“And why is that?” Thinking she’s distracted, his hand slides to her back where he can work on undoing her belt.

“You’re built…” Melinoë says slowly, her fingers and nails tracing the mounds of Odysseus’ abs, travelling upwards over his chest to land on his strong and wide shoulders. “… Like a god.”

That little smirk that Melinoë gifts him with makes him forget his name. Words can’t describe how much he’s attracted to her and he knows that only Penelope could reach this level of sentiment and affection that he’d ever hold for anyone. It terrifies him to some extent, for it’s been a while since someone treated him like this.

“Goddess…” is all he can mutter as he manages to cause Melinoë’s clothes to fall onto the ground and see her fully naked form.

Odysseus pulls Melinoë closer, so that he can kiss her while she’s pushing him backwards until they land on her sleeping mat. The Princess doesn’t miss the opportunity to have the man lie down on it, so that she can straddle his waist, grinning, smoothing her palms over his chest again. She leans in to steal another kiss or two, in the meantime rocking her hips to grind against him whenever she can.

Odysseus’ hands come to her aid in no time when he starts guiding her motion by grabbing her by her hips. The small sigh that it gets him is like honey and he swallows it as soon as Melinoë lets it out.

However fun this little teasing game of theirs may be, Melinoë is done waiting for tonight. So, even though she’s loving the electric sensation that’s springing from all the right places where her skin meets Odysseus’, the Princess decides to take the matters into her hands. As she thinks about it, she sniggers at her own inner wording, hiding her face in Odysseus’ cheek and then neck.

He groans while feeling her breath there and cranes his neck to give Melinoë more access to the sensitive spots there. Melinoë doesn’t waste the chance to give his throat some nibbles and licks, distracting herself from her attempts at ending all the teasing. While doing so, she’s making little moans of excitement and pleasure – something which elicits a couple of grunts from Odysseus as he closes his eyes, handing the control to Melinoë completely.

And she’s not complaining, oh no. She’s enjoying everything that’s unravelling in front of her and underneath her, as well as relishing the way Odysseus’ fingers dig into her flesh once in a while. She can’t have enough of the hisses and groans that he releases when she gifts him with an unsynchronised rub of her body against his.

But it is when she grabs him to finally, finally be able to sit atop him that makes a full moan tumble out of his throat. The way Melinoë’s whimper and gasp accompany it is a music to Odysseus’ ears. He regains some semblance of control for a moment as he holds Melinoë still and then pulls her down until he’s fully sheathed inside of her.

That’s also when Odysseus’ hands land on Melinoë’s cheeks, so that he can cup her face and draw her in for a kiss. With a firm grip on his shoulders, Melinoë achieves her leverage and starts to rock her hips back and forth, slowly, with no rush.

Her breathing’s slightly increased and she catches herself letting her mouth hang open, enabling Odysseus to pull at her lower lip with his teeth.

Sporting a cheeky smile on her face, the Goddess soon pulls away and sits upright, so that she can switch her motion and move up and down. It soon earns her a pair of strong hands grabbing her sides and sliding upwards, right under her breasts. Melinoë pushes her chest out proudly, encouraging Odysseus to roam all over it, and he doesn’t waste this opportunity.

He drags his fingers back down onto her stomach and then waist with just as much reverence as she showed while caressing his torso a while ago. His eyes follow the track of his palms and he swallows, boring a hole somewhere in Melinoë’s belly. Deep in her own fantasy and bliss, the Princess pays it no mind at first. However, after a while of Odysseus nearly lying still all the time, Melinoë slows down her rocking and lays a hand on the shade’s cheek.

“Od… what’s wrong?” she asks ever so softly, brushing the corner of his mouth with her thumb.

“I, erm… nothing, Goddess,” he provides too quickly for Melinoë’s liking. She squints at him as he adds, “my apologies.”

“Nothing to apologise for, you just look…”

“No, Goddess. Not… now,” his voice breaks at the end there and he hates himself for this.

Melinoë sees the discontentment flash across his features and it causes a crease to appear between her eyebrows.

“So there is something, is there not?”

“Later, please,” Odysseus says, his voice shaky once again. At the same time, he hoists himself up, so that he’s also now sat upright, with the new possibility of hiding his face in the crook of Melinoë’s neck. “Is this alright?” he asks, his hands again on Melinoë’s back, feeling her muscles shift as she adjusts to this position.

“Of course.” Melinoë embraces him and holds him close, so that he can freely bury his face under the Princess’ chin and obscure his sorry state from her. “Do you want to stop? Because we can if you’re not–”

“I want to continue. I only…” he mumbles right into Melinoë’s throat and she feels his shuddering breath on her skin.

“I’m not going to curse you, Od,” she promises and kisses the top of his head.

Then, she also notices that he still has his hairband on and she promptly gets rid of it, drawing a small chuckle from him. Melinoë deems it a good sign to go on and resume her motion atop Odysseus’ lap.

While doing so, Melinoë never lets him go and he revels in the proximity of her and the limitless chances to shower her neck and shoulder with kisses and long swipes of his tongue. The way she shivers when he does it has him quiver and the fire in the pit of his stomach burn brightly, dangerously. It spreads all over his body and although he’s a shade, Melinoë can feel something like heat radiating off of him.

It's somewhat cool when compared to her own feverish self but she couldn’t care less. What matters to her is that Odysseus is close and now clearly enjoying himself, letting out low and vibrating hums of satisfaction. Melinoë is proud of herself for making him feel this good and she only ups her game by rotating her hips and returning to the rhythmical motion in turns.

She manages to pull more raw and rumbling sounds from Odysseus, with his fingernails leaving crescent-like marks in the muscle of her back. Her own fingers rake through his hair, scraping his scalp, keeping him impossibly close as his breath’s becoming more and more ragged. The manner in which he’s kissing her is growing sloppier with each move of Melinoë’s body and she can tell by the way his hips are meeting hers that he’s not going to last long from now.

The Princess thinks she’s going to trip over that edge herself once she hears him speak up again.

“You need to slow down, Goddess…”

“Whatever for?” Melinoë asks, although she knows the answer.

“I can’t…” Odysseus manages, his voice strained and raspy. “You’re going to make me…”

“Don’t hold back, sir. Let go.”

Melinoë’s tender and breathy tone and the way she never stops moving is Odysseus’ whole world at the moment. He also thought that her calling him in this particular way was making him feel all fuzzy but when mixed with her being in charge of such an intimate situation between them both, it is an entirely new level of satisfaction for him.

So Odysseus has no reasons to disobey the Princess. With her continuous and only slightly uncoordinated up-and-down, she leads him to his peak and makes him fall over it, relentless and determined. Odysseus groans straight into the column of Melinoë’s neck as he releases the divine tension that’s built up deep in his gut, grazing his teeth against her skin and suckling on it to muffle the more pathetic sounds that he’s producing.

His hands also tighten around Melinoë’s sides, at the level of her ribs, keeping her still. The lack of movement halts her own impending climax but she soon crosses that border as she feels Odysseus finish inside of her. The warmth and fullness both shoot that dizzying sensation throughout her body and right into her brain and she reaches exactly what she’s been chasing with a long and raw moan on her lips.

Melinoë throws her head back, squeezing Odysseus while mumbling his name again and again, her hands tugging on his hair. It elicits yet another low grunt from him as he’s slowly coming off of his high, kissing and licking the spot on the Goddess’ neck that he was sucking a while ago.

A shaky sigh leaves his lungs as Melinoë’s still trembling in his lap and arms, the afterglow embracing her with the waves of white hot pleasure calming down and not reaching the Princess’ fingertips and toes anymore. She curls around Odysseus steady but also shivering form, seemingly becoming one with him for the time being.

She’s so focused on their shared closeness that she just allows him to fall onto his back and lay her next to him, with her hand on his chest and her leg swung over his hip. Melinoë exhales, tired but happy, and looks up at Odysseus’ profile. She furrows her brows and as soon as he notices it, he hides his eyes behind his forearm.

It doesn’t stop Melinoë from kissing away the tears that are rolling down his right cheek. He sniffles as she does that, biting down on his lip not to let out a quiet sob.

After a moment, though, he stops shying away from her and wipes his eyes dry to meet Melinoë’s gaze.

“Knowing you, Goddess, you’re not going to leave it be, are you?” he asks, some sorrow in his allegedly amused tone.

“You know me too well… But then again – how could I leave it be? Something is clearly… very not right.”

“I’ll tell you in due time, I promise.”

“Does this concern… me?”

“Not entirely.”

“Someone else from the Crossroads too?”

“Someone from the outside.”

“Do I know them?”

“You do.” Odysseus quirks up his eyebrow as he sees that Melinoë opens her mouth to keep questioning him. She resigns from doing so and he continues, “in due time, Goddess. This is hardly a moment for such conversations. Let’s enjoy what we have now instead, shall we?”

Melinoë mulls over his words for a second. Her face soon softens and she smiles lightly, bringing a more genuine smile onto Odysseus’ lips as well.

“Mhm.” She nods her head and gives him a little kiss. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for not cursing me.”

Odysseus chuckles at that but Melinoë knows that there is some hidden gloom in there somewhere. But she’s not going to pry. Not now at least. There’ll be a better opportunity for that someday.

The idea itself is deeply worrying in her eyes and she’d love to try and solve Odysseus’ problem right here and now but, alas, it’s not possible if he doesn’t tell her what the whole matter is about. She has to brace herself for some waiting and be patient because there’s nothing else that she could do now.

“Don’t dwell on it.”

“Alright.” Melinoë rolls her eyes. “I’ll stop. For now.”

“Good.”

The relief present in Odysseus’ eyes is worth it.

Melinoë loses herself in the serenity she sees in them at the moment. Yet, she jerks in her spot, gasping, when she suddenly hears Dora’s voice and watches her appear at her feet.

“So… Since you two are done now, you’re gonna come and talk to me and the horned guy, Mel? Though as I look at you, it’s gonna take you a while to get yourself back together,” she deadpans, eyeing Melinoë and Odysseus.

“Dora! What…? How…? Have you been here all this time?!”

“Well, you said yourself that you didn’t mind the shades watching you.”

“And how do you know that? Who told you? Other shades heard me?”

“I told her,” Odysseus admits, sporting that stupidly confident grin of his.

“Impossible, the both of you!” Melinoë groans, pressing her face right under his jaw.

[dvilsdesire-a]

Haarlep took it in stride that he had managed to get someone as pure hearted as Alaara to become fond of him without the use of charm. There had been moments where he had contemplated using it, because he was a fiend and it would be so easy to do so, but he had found that he had become fond of Alaara and did not wish to break her trust in that regard. A good thing, otherwise he was pretty sure he'd be kicked out of camp, and they'd all been so lenient with him and his antics. He enjoyed their company, and he'd not had this much fun in a long time, always cooped up within the House of Hope.

Alaara kept questionable companions. One was a vampire that was just as self serving, so he supposed a fiend who was evil wasn't so far fetched. Then Mizora kept herself around as well, though that was because she was tied to Wyll.

Alaara tended to keep strays, though. All of that good heart nonsense she had inside her.

"Or perhaps it is my charming good looks and character," he replied with a smirk at his lips before he crossed his legs and sat behind her in the grass.

Changing from Raphael's form to his true one, he lifted his hands, much more nimble and long in his natural state.

"Dear, I am an incubus. My hands have touched many bodies and massaged many muscles. If you don't wish to spend the coin, indulge me. No tricks, I know you do not wish to bed me, but even your skin beneath my claws is a pleasure I could eat."

"Being fond of a devil wasn't on any of my lists for life, nor was being fond of an incubus," Alaara replied. "Here we are all the same. Strange times lead us to strange alliances and stranger friends."

She gazed of at Haarlep's horns as he pointed to them. Come to think of it, yes. They were always perfectly kept. All of him was for that matter. That was in part due to Haarlep never getting into a major skirmish. But he also made sure to keep his person tended to no matter if they were near water or not. The perks of being a devilish creature with access to inter-dimensional portal magic...

Alaara sat down at Haarlap's instructions and kept her back straight. "You really know how to pamper a girl," she commented. "Next thing I know you'll be giving me a full spa day. I shudder to think how knotted my muscles are from beating cultists to a pulp."

[writer59january13]

Inevitable death defines afterlife - deux

Flinty stones figuratively rolling inside whooping out that primal

binaural beat of your drum

ma mind haphazardly

ricocheting axon to neuron

inducing inxs of chaos wreaking entropy beheld

by beauty and the beast enveloping means to enjoy

sacred moments treasured

savoring, seizing, and signaling salad days

because you’re young

within reliquary of fragile cerebral dome croaking before proving betty wrong

frost bitten cyber surfing

butter fingers glove lee hutted, inciting ire of uncle sam i.e. big brother

flitting to n fro-hither n yon

microscopic wingspan

encompassing the greensward

from black country rock

in search of poem I can offer, fancying this nonestablishmentarian

wearing a black tie white noise

thus herewith meanders

this binary, a lobbed

bot tommy bit wan burning cheeks when power

restored from blackout

being bitta bing bitta bang

resonating with nonsense syllables

blah blah blah

non supernova star

provided location to scan oozing life source when mum

did bleed like a crazed dad

from other end of earth lan

ding soft as a well-

worn pair of blue jeans

(weighed with ire -

that rocks me precariously dodging fisticuffs from

beastie boys keep swinging

upon precipice of kat man do) I ran creating the rush of breaking glass

here comes chaste,

cher full sunny (bono fide) indulging the audience

with a brilliant adventure

super duper man to provide aid,

where panting damsel in distress clamoring for someone

to bring me the disco king

no matter out of breath

sagging pants like whirring fan whining intonations iterated

from buddha of suburbia

self propelled from...flatulence

from consuming whey to much bran.

Well, I (with forrest gump by my side) attest stinging cactus

life haint no box of heart shaped chalk a lits hoping thee can you hear me

for snapping jaws of zee bill collectors

to tittle late each breast pounding pulsations indicative

perchance can’t help thinking about me

this bloke shipwreck tubby

one of hue man species best

vying with a slew

of many presidential candidate

buys to hire, a modest fellow meowing as purr ring cat people

who does not thump his genetic chest indicating positive changes

like an alpinist

scale lean bosom o mount everest yodeling millennial chant

of the ever circling skeletal family

enjoying breathtaking view as visual fest

with a mild manner demeanor

as like some guest kindling warmth against the chilly down

a lighthearted genteel friendly dude,

one who doth like to jest flirting delightfully with a lovely china girl

lest shattering porcelain damsel

clatters with a ching a ling

age inappropriate actions

get this opportunity messed decrying the rampant killing at columbine since initial writing of these lines other school shootings

up in order to support dependents in this nest espying a sale asia come and buy my toys

with me hen pecking spouse

i.e. argh quite thee pest repeating ad infinitum

the death of david bowie

as conversation piece

though now back on track

sans per philanthropist quest annihilating with urban blight

a megalopolis crack city

in order to put msn

(miss in) mailer daemons

the mind of this live earth-linked cool

ostracizing once famous,

but now cracked actor

hotmail yahoo at rest praying not to become firearm fodder

from this criminal world

according to sir isaac newton

when object least stressed maintaining molecular composition

wrought like crystal japan.

HEAVENLY STANZA INTERRUPTION TWO

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Coffee Mates AO3 LINK

(6k+ words of self indulgent pre affair era fic where Aaron accepts that offered coffee and they take a slightly different route to their first kiss...brought to you by my rewatch feelings)

---

“So...mates?” Robert held out the coffee hoping Aaron would take the bait. 

He watched Aaron stare at the cup for a moment, considering, as he tapped the end of his pen against the clipboard in his other hand. Robert didn’t know why he cared so much whether he had Aaron were on good terms. For some reason, he just hated the thought of him being mad at him, judging him. He didn’t know when Aaron’s opinion of him started to matter. 

One last tap of the pen and Aaron turned to set the clipboard down in the office. “I’ll think about it,” he said and that wasn’t a no. “Will take that coffee though,” he added, reaching out and taking the proffered cup in his hand. 

Robert smiled, couldn’t help himself apparently. It wasn’t his usual smile and something in his stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering as Aaron took a sip of his coffee and Robert watched the liquid work down his throat as he swallowed. He gulped, not the coffee. 

“What is this?” Aaron asked as he made a face at it, leaning against the car parked in the garage for service. 

“Americano,” Robert told him as he awkwardly leaned against the car next to him. He’d never felt so out of sorts. He didn’t like it but he couldn’t leave either. 

“That what you drink?” Aaron pointed are his cup with the jut of his chin. Robert nodded. “More of a tea man myself. Or a latte I suppose.”

“A latte,” Robert found himself smiling again, laughing a bit. 

“Shut it,” Aaron snapped but it was playful and it eased something in his chest. He’d never really had a mate before. 

Though now that the coffee talk was done, he wasn’t sure where to take the conversation. “So uhh...worked here long?”

Aaron looked at him strangely, like this wasn’t the kind of mates they were and Robert cast his eyes down to where he fiddled with the heat guard on the to go cup. 

“At the garage? Not long this time I suppose but I uhh...worked here before I went to France,” Aaron mumbled out the answer like he was unsure, biting at his lip in a way that Robert found fascinating. 

“France,” Robert said aloud, filing away the information when Aaron looked uncomfortable about it. “I used to work here, you know.”

Aaron visibly relaxed with the change of subject, a smirk playing on his lips. “You? Didn’t think you’d want to get your hands dirty.”

“Oi! I reckon I was a better mechanic than you,” he argued, knowing it probably wasn’t true.

“Was, being the operative word, mate,” Aaron laughed. 

“Bet I still could,” he pushed further, hoping Aaron wouldn’t ask him to prove it. 

“So if we turned around and I asked you what was wrong with this car, you’d be able to tell me, yeah?” Aaron challenged him. 

Robert’s face fell slightly. Of course he would make him prove it. Maybe it wouldn’t be that hard though. Maybe it was an easy problem to fix. He started to turn but all of a sudden Aaron was laughing again and he had a hand on Robert’s shoulder. The touch sparked something inside of him, the same as it had when Aaron had thrown him up against that wall. It made him itch a bit, especially in full view of the village but he didn’t want him to take his hand away. 

“Robert stop,” Aaron laughed. It was an amazing sound to come out of such a usually grumpy person. “I’m not gonna test ya.” 

“I could have-“ he said uselessly

“Sure,” Aaron shook his head. 

Robert settled back against the car and if he stood a little closer to Aaron, neither of them commented on it. “So...tell me about this car you’re going to find for me.”

—-

With an arm full of paperwork, Robert passed by the garage as he headed toward the pub to meet Andy. Only he saw Cain leaving on his break and Aaron watching him go with a frown. He preferred Aaron smiling. The thought had come out of nowhere. He shook his head at it but still turned in his tracks and headed toward the cafe for a brief stop. 

—-

Aaron sighed at all of the work Cain had left for him, thankful at least that he had the next day off. He could use it. He felt knackered having been up half the night looking for cars for Robert. He had a pretty good idea of what he was looking for after their chat yesterday, their surprisingly normal chat. After all the fake burglary and confrontations in the pub toilets, he wasn’t sure Robert was capable of it but it had been nice. He’d enjoyed himself when Robert wasn’t playing the arrogant and entitled lord of the manner. That was unexpected. 

“Coffee?” 

Aaron turned around to find Robert there again, two coffees in his hand and a sheepish smile on his face that almost didn’t seem right.

“Two days in a row?” Aaron couldn’t help himself but grin as he took the cup. “People might start talking.”

He watched Robert twitch at that and made a note of it. This wasn’t the first time he thought something was up but it was the most glaring. Of course the way his mum and Katie went on about him, it didn’t seem possible. 

“Thanks,” he said, trying to ease the situation. If he was right, he didn’t want to spook Robert further. He took a sip of his coffee. “Mmm a latte.”

“Well you did say-“

Aaron smiled at the fact that Robert had actually paid attention to him yesterday. Still, he could tell he was nervous all of a sudden, shifting from foot to foot in front of him. It was strange seeing Robert with some of his confidence stripped away. These were the times he felt like he was seeing the real him, like the hurt in his voice when he’d talked about his mother’s memorial getting ruined. And he hadn’t been wrong apparently. It had been a fake heart attack. Most of the sympathy he’d had for the Lawrence of Edna’s stories had slipped away after that. 

“So what’s all that for?” Aaron asks, pointing at the thick folder under his arm, and trying to steer the conversation toward something new. 

“Oh,” Robert said, adjusting himself, standing up a bit straighter. “Contracts for Andy to sign for Wiley’s Farm.”

“Oh yeah, heard Katie talking to me mum at the bar about that. Didn’t sound happy.”

“Well they wanted the place practically for free,” Robert argued. 

“He is your brother,” Aaron pointed out, knowing full well there was always something brewing between those two. It seemed like Vic had been a wreck about it since Robert had blown back into the village. 

“And they’ll get a fair price,” Robert said matter of factly, looking Aaron over like he was trying to read him. It wasn’t the same kind of appraising look that he’d cautiously given him yesterday when he thought Aaron wasn’t looking. This one looked defensive. “I earned everything I’ve got.”

Ah, so there it was. “Didn’t day you hadn’t” Aaron assured him. 

“Right,” Robert nodded, seeming at least mildly satisfied. “I should go anyway.”

“Yeah,” Aaron shrugged but added “I’ll see you around, yeah?” Because for some reason he had decided that he wanted to try and be friends with Robert Sugden. 

—-

After a long day, all he wanted was to slob out on the sofa in front of the Telly and crack open a beer or something. He didn’t count on being confronted with a Sugden family meal upon entering the back room. 

“Oh sorry, didn’t realize anyone was in here,” he said, pausing in the doorway. 

The situation looked tense and he could sense the hostility radiating between Robert and Andy across the table. He wasn’t sure he wanted to intrude. Intending to go, he started back out the door but Diane’s voice halted him. 

“Oh that’s alright,” she called out to him. “There’s plenty here if you’d like a plate.”

He watched Robert shift uncomfortably at that, the idea of him being there and that kind of made him want to push things. Just a bit further to prove a point. 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want to intrude,” Robert said, and Aaron could almost feel the nerves coming off of him in waves. “This being a family meal and all.”

“Spot of home cooking would be great actually,” Aaron said before he could stop himself, pushing into the room and heading for the kitchen. 

He glanced back at Robert, taking in the rigid set of his shoulders and could see him panicking. Like a magnet, Robert’s eyes were drawn to his but quickly, he looked away again, back down at the table, flexing his fingers over his plate. 

“It’s a nice thought, Diane,” he sighed, “but it’s not really working is it.”

With that, he got up from the table and stalked out of the room, leaving Aaron with little doubt. He just wasn’t sure how to play it from here. Robert was engaged after all. 

—-

Robert sat in his car, idling. He should just go home but something was stopping him. His leg twitched and his stomach wouldn’t settle and he didn’t think it was Vic’s cooking. His sister wasn’t half bad as a chef. It was Aaron. Him just coming into the back room like that like he- well he did live there but still. He made him feel uneasy and he knew why, he just didn’t want to think about it. Too close to home, he reminded himself, the same thought he’d had when he found out Aaron was gay. So why couldn’t he stay away?

A tap on his window made him jump and he looked up to find Aaron standing there with a coffee in each hand. Something unraveled in his gut and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. 

“What are these in aid of?” He asked as he rolled the window down. 

“Just thought you could uhh... use a mate,” Aaron said and Robert could tell he was nervous, which somehow put him more at ease. 

“Oh are we mates now then?” He asked, getting out of the car despite the rain that misted down on them. He was scrabbling for control and the banter seemed to provide it. 

“If you’d like,” Aaron shrugged, playing along. 

“Knew I’d wear you down eventually,” Robert said as he leaned against his car, aiming for casual. 

“If you say so,” Aaron said, his tone nonchalant but the ghost of a smile on his lips betrayed him, taking up his spot, leaning beside him. 

—-

So they were mates now, enough so that when Chrissie kicked off at Leyla’s flirtatious behavior while measuring him for his suit, he texted Aaron, having exchanged numbers last night as they drank their coffees in companionable silence, deftly avoiding the subject of his train wreck of a family dinner. He had been glad about that, not wanting to try and defend his position against Andy again. All Aaron had said about it was that he’d always wanted a brother until he met them and he’d said it in a way that made Robert believe he might be on his side and that pleased him more than it should have. 

“If you keep believing the worst in people, that’s exactly what you’re going to get,” Robert had told Chrissie on his way out. 

She’d been wrong. He didn’t have any interest in Leyla, even if he was always up for a bit of flirty banter. He’d been thinking about Aaron but he was trying his hardest not to and Chrissie’s attitude made that impossible. She’d been trying to catch him out since they moved here and he was getting a bit tired of it. Not that he didn’t have form in the past. He frowned at the thought, thinking of Rebecca, of the one night stands, but he’d been trying to turn over a new leaf since they got engaged and she was making that difficult. 

Aaron met him at the cafe, coffees already on the table waiting when he arrived, sliding onto the sofa next to him rather than across, which he should have done but he was feeling bold. He took a sip of his Americano, from a mug this time instead of a to go cup, letting the caffeine revive him and then leaned his head back against the sofa, sighing. 

“Rough day?” Aaron asked, a light amusement in his voice. 

“Chrissie’s doing my head in,” Robert replied. 

“Oh,” Aaron hummed and Robert couldn’t tell if it was disappointment he heard in his voice or hopefulness. He wasn’t sure which he’d rather. 

“Don’t really want to talk about it,” Robert set it aside. He’d rather not talk about Chrissie with Aaron. Something about that just made him feel weird. “How’s your day been?”

“You really want to know?” Aaron asked, sounding surprised. 

“Well we are mates now, aren’t we?” He hated that he was having to double check. He wasn’t used to this whole maintaining a friendship thing. It wasn’t as like a business deal as he would have liked. 

“Yeah,” Aaron smiled and then frowned, which made Robert nervous again. “Was smiling this morning and Mum asked if there was something wrong with my face.”

“Well you are usually a rather grumpy git,” Robert teased. 

“Oh cause you’re a ray of sunshine at all times,” Aaron scoffed, nudging at Robert with his shoulder. 

Again, the touch made his brain short circuit for a moment, which was pathetic. He found himself glancing around to make sure no one saw, hiding his uneasiness in another sip of his coffee. They were mates, he reminded himself, no one was going to think anything of it. 

“So did you see that new top gear episode?” He asked dumbly. Aaron had mentioned he liked the show when they had been talking cars that first day. 

Aaron’s eyes brightened. “Yeah, was a good one. You actually watched it?”

“Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about,” he replied. He’d enjoyed it more than he thought he would but then he’d always been into cars. 

Aaron grinned at him and launched into a full account of his favorite parts of the episode and Robert couldn’t help but listen intently, which was strange because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d given anyone his full attention like this. Then again, Aaron always seemed to have that effect on him. 

“We should have an actual drink,” Aaron said eventually after he’d given him a full recommendation of other episodes and shows he should check out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after slurping up the dregs of his coffee. It was disgusting but Robert didn’t seem to mind. 

He faltered at the question though. Were they ‘have a pint after work kind of friends’? He’d barely gotten used to the coffee dates...not dates. “Yeah,” he stammered before he could stop himself. 

“Woolpack later?” Aaron suggested. 

“Oh,” Robert was sort of hoping they might get out of the village. Less prying eyes. But they were mates. What did it matter? 

Only Andy and Katie chose that exact moment to wander into the cafe and he froze, wondering how it looked with him sitting so close to Aaron on the sofa. He shifted away as they caught sight of them, Katie frowning immediately. Andy didn’t look like he’d softened toward him at all since their dinner either. It served him right for taking Lawrence’s handouts while the old git was trying to stitch him up. He was only trying to make an actual profit now. It was just good business and he was good at his job. 

“Don’t think Chas would appreciate the company you’re keeping Aaron,” Katie sneered. 

Well luckily she had a one track mind but Andy was looking at them strangely. 

“Luckily, I’m capable of picking my own mates,” Aaron snapped back. 

He couldn’t even revel in that because Andy had to go and say, “Didn’t realize you two had gotten so close.”

Robert squirmed at the wording, heart rate increasing. He felt all the coffee in his stomach sloshing around. “I uhh...I have to get going anyway. Meeting.”

He didn’t have a meeting. He just had to get out from under Andy and Katie’s scrutiny. Wouldn’t want to give his brother this one opportunity to get a clue. 

“And about that drink?” Aaron asked as he got up. 

Andy and Katie were still watching but if he said no then Katie would probably accuse him of being a bad mate already. So he said, “Yeah, I’ll see you later.” And then he all but ran out of there, a text from Aaron buzzing on his phone telling him he’d see him at seven. 

—-

“Look you have every right to be mad at me, I’m mad at myself,” Chrissie said immediately upon him entering the house. 

She went on about getting jealous and weird and that she hated being like that he just stood there feeling lost and thrown and shaken from Andy and Katie interrupting him and Aaron. He mumbled something about her needing to start trusting him more and then suddenly she was kissing him like everything was alright and for a split second, he wondered what it would be like to be kissing Aaron. He’d thought about it before, fleetingly but he’d always pushes it away and it had never been when he was with Chrissie. 

“Not so fast,” he told her as she started walking away, argument resolved. 

“What are you doing?” she laughed as he pulled her back and kissed her again, making it count this time, ignoring the fact that her laughter didn’t give him the same buzz of happiness that Aaron’s did. 

This, Chrissie, was all he needed. He and Aaron were mates and that was it. A friend in the village would do him good, he thought and then turned his mind off and focused on getting Chrissie out of her blouse and onto the sofa. 

They lay there afterwards, her stroking his bare chest as Robert tried to get comfortable on such a miserable piece of furniture. He wished Lawrence hadn’t been so stubborn about keeping all of the old decor. He would have liked a nice comfortable sofa to lounge about on, to have sex on, but no, they were stuck with this thing. Already, he knew he’d be paying for this little extra curricular activity with a back ache later. 

“Well that was unexpected,” Chrissie was saying and he guessed it was but it was what he needed. “I should get jealous more often.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Robert forced a smile. 

And then she was telling him she trusted him completely and that she knew him better than anyone and all of a sudden he wasn’t sure because did she? Did she know him better than anyone? Sometimes he felt like she only knew the side of him that he put on show for people, that she couldn’t see what was underneath. He felt like she should have been able to even if he didn’t let that side of him slip out often but she didn’t. Glancing at his watch, he saw the time and knew that he needed to get going if he was going to meet Aaron. He should have probably blown him off, taken Chrissie upstairs to their bed and gone for round too. Surely, Aaron would understand that but he wanted to see him. Because for some reason, he felt like out of anyone in the whole village, Aaron was starting to be the one that saw him the most. 

Pushing himself off the sofa, he grabbed for his shirt, throwing it over his head. “Sorry,” he told her, “I just remembered. I said I’d meet Aaron for a drink.” 

“Aaron? From the garage?” Chrissie sounded shocked. “I didn’t realize you and he were even-”

“Mates,” Robert supplied for her, wanting to define it again. “Well, you know, after I bought him that drink to thank him for fixing your car we got to talking and he’s got an appreciation for classic cars too.” That was a lie, Aaron preferred whatever was fast and flashy and new, but Chrissie didn’t need to know that. 

“Oh go on, have your boys night out then, but don’t be late back,” she winked at him and he felt queasy all of a sudden. 

---

If Aaron spent a little too much time fixing his hair and putting on a bit of aftershave before going downstairs and into the pub to meet Robert, he didn’t dwell on it. They’re mates and Robert was straight and engaged to a woman, he reminded himself. Even if Robert’s gaze did linger on him a little too long sometimes, even if he seemed to jolt every time someone implied even the slightest bit going on between them, even if he smiled at him in a way he’d never seen him smile at anyone else. He shook his head and headed into the pub, suddenly accosted by every rainbow decoration in the whole of Yorkshire strewn across the place. 

“Gay night!” Vic said brightly as she passed him with a plate of food. “You wish.” 

He panicked a little, wondering what Robert would make of all of this when he came to meet him. If his suspicions were at all correct, he worried this might scare him off. He could head him off and they could go somewhere else but he kind of wanted to see how he would react. So he shrugged at Vic and grabbed himself a pint, settling in at the bar to wait. 

Cain was settled into the testosterone booth in the corner with David, looking miserable. “Thought your mum would set this up for ya, get ya fixed up,” he told him with a wry smile. 

It was clearly Ali and Ruby’s hen night he assured himself as he looked around, though he wouldn’t put it past his mum. “Don’t need fixing up. Besides, I’m meeting someone.” 

“Oh?” Vic asked as she rounded the bar again. “Who?” 

“Just your brother,” he said, trying to sound casual about it. 

“Andy?” 

“No, Robert,” Aaron told her.

“Didn’t realize you two were mates? Missing Adam that much are ya?” she laughed. 

“Nah, he’s alright,” Aaron said and he meant it, though it still surprised him. 

“And there he is,” Vic pointed out as a shell shocked looking Robert came in, dodging a falling rainbow banner, swatting at it with his arms until it left him alone. 

Aaron could see the panic in his eyes, panic he knew well, that feeling that somehow everyone was just going to know. He’d wanted to test him a bit but now he just sort of felt sorry for him, wanted to put him at ease so he called him over and ordered him a pint off Alicia. Robert sat down cautiously beside him, gulping as he glanced around, before something inside him reset and he plastered that smug smile of his on his face again.

“What’s up with this place?” he said, a mocking edge to his tone, as he took a deep drink of his beer. 

Aaron was momentarily distracted as he watched him lick the foam off his top lip but he recovered quickly. “Ali and Ruby’s hen night,” he gestured toward the large group of women crowding around the middle tables of the pub. 

“Oh, right,” Robert nodded, seeming to relax a little. 

By the time Ashley showed up in drag to try and win Harriet’s heart, he was fully settled, the two of them laughing along with all the rest at the absurdity of the scene. It was easy, the two of them. And maybe Vic was right and he was trying to fill the void Adam had left in his life when he went to prison but he liked Robert, more than he should. 

---

Robert’s thinking about Aaron, even though he knows he shouldn’t be. Once he’d gotten past the pub looking like a gay unicorn had thrown up all over it, he’d had a really good night with him. And maybe their legs had brushed together under the bar one too many times and maybe he’d used the excuse of laughing too hard at Ashley’s drag act that he’d put a hand on Aaron’s shoulder and leaned on him, but it was fine, that’s what mates did. 

“Gold Digger,” Chrissie said, as a bad song suggestion for their reception, pulling him out of his Aaron thoughts for a moment. 

“Suspicious Minds,” he bantered back as she took a phone call. 

He was walking away, caught up in his distractions again, when he heard it was Aaron she was talking to. He whipped around and tried not to look too interested. Apparently he’d found the car he wasn’t supposed to know about but Chrissie caved and told him anyway. It was the Austin Healey he’d been going on about wanting forever. He’d told Aaron all about it too and he’d assured him he could find him one. 

It was a beautiful car and he had to admit that Aaron looked good sitting in the driver’s seat when they arrived to take a look at it. He’d slid out though and slapped him across the back like mates do as Robert had gotten in, running his fingers over the leather of the steering wheel, ready to take it for a test drive. 

When they got back to the house, Chrissie had wanted to drag Aaron away to discuss the price without him hearing because this was after all, still supposed to be a wedding present. Instead, they’d gotten too caught up talking about all of the specs of the car, arguing playfully over how fast it could go if it weren’t for dodgy country roads and so Chrissie had left them to it, bringing them drinks in the living room. A coffee for him and a cup of tea for Aaron, milk and two sugars, he filed away for later. 

It felt strange having Aaron up at Home Farm, and not in a balaclava playing the part of the thief he knew he wasn’t now. His two worlds were colliding again in a different sort of way but Chrissie took no real notice of it so he tried to just enjoy it. It didn’t escape his notice that Aaron being there somehow made the massive house feel a bit more like home and less a proving ground. He liked that. 

---

On Monday, he had his tea with Vic and Diane in the pub and Aaron joined them halfway through, certainly a better choice than Andy. Although Diane promised him that she wouldn’t stop trying to get them to make peace. Something about a promise to Jack but he tuned her out as soon as she said his dad’s name. He didn’t want to hear it, especially not with Aaron sitting right next to him and the thoughts that were going through his head because he looked good. Snug in his purple hoodie that he’d taken note of before because it seemed to be the only bit of color in his mostly black wardrobe. His hair had a little less product in it, he thought too and hated himself just a bit for noticing. Mostly, he just couldn’t stop staring at the angles of his face in profile or the way his throat worked as he swallowed down his beer. 

Aaron was looking too, he knew. They both looked away every time they were caught out. It was like a little private game, one he was enjoying too much. It got ruined for a moment when Finn came in, staring wistfully at Aaron as he passed by, waving to Vic, before he went to meet his brother, the farmer, not the thief. 

“Still don’t know why you won’t give Finn a shot, Aaron,” Vic slurred. His sister had had too much wine. 

Aaron wrinkled his nose at the thought and Robert scoffed, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy in his gut at the thought of Aaron with anyone else. 

“He’s hardly his type,” Robert blurted out before his brain could catch up to his tongue. 

“Oh and you know his type, do you?” Vic laughed. 

“Maybe he does,” Aaron said boldly, and Robert knew if he turned, he’d catch Aaron eyeing him up again. 

Diane was busy with a customer and Vic was too sloshed to really notice so he risked a glance, finding a pair of bright blue eyes watching his every move, lips parted just slightly like they were waiting for his. All he wanted to do was to drag him off to the toilets and kiss the life out of him.

“What did I miss?” Diane asked as she came back over. 

And the moment was lost. 

---

Robert kicked at the pavement, digging his toe into the loose gravel, as he waited, checking his phone several times to make sure that Aaron had agreed to come and pick him up. His hands were balled up into fists at his sides. All he wanted to do was bash his brother’s face in. First he’d gone and chosen Vic as his best man, which...whatever. It’s not like he ever thought he’d choose him anyway. But Diane had gone and given him his dad’s wedding ring for him and Katie, to melt down and make two rings out of it. He couldn’t believe she had the audacity to do that without even asking him. He was getting married too and no one was offering him family heirlooms. He’d worked so hard to make-

A car drove up, and the window rolled down, Aaron looking him over and taking him in. “Want to go somewhere?” he asked casually. 

“Gun shop?” Robert suggested. 

Aaron shook his head. “Just get in.” 

Robert nodded, rounding the car and climbing into the passenger seat. He leaned back against the headrest and tried to calm himself down but it was no use, he was raging. Even Aaron’s presence wasn’t calming him the way it usually did. 

“Where to?” Aaron asked. 

“Dunno, anywhere,” Robert answered, hoping Aaron would just take the lead. He didn’t have space in his head right now to think about anything other than how much he hated Andy, his whole family, Jack. 

---

Aaron took him to Bar West. He knew he shouldn’t but it did fall under ‘anywhere’ and it was always a safe place for Aaron, aside from that first time. When they walked in, though, Robert paled, glancing around and seeing all the blokes, some holding hands across tables, others kissing in the corner even though it’s the middle of the day. Immediately, he looked like he wanted to bolt. He’d turned halfway toward the door already but Aaron grabbed hold of his arm. 

“Robert, wait,” Aaron tried, pulling him back. 

“Why would you bring me here?” Robert snapped at him, angry and defensive. 

Aaron’s heart broke for him a little, wondered if this is what people felt like when they looked at him fighting it all those years ago. “I just, I like this place and they do serve people who aren’t gay.” 

Shaking him off, Robert pulled his arm back into his side. “Well good, cause I’m not.” 

“Right,” Aaron nodded and steered him toward the bar to get a beer. He figured he could use it. 

They’re quiet for a long time, Robert downing bottle after bottle and looking thoroughly miserable while doing so. He was glad Robert called him but he could hardly help if he didn’t know what the problem was in the first place. It was definitely more than just his clear aversion to gay bars. 

“You want to tell me what happened?” Aaron pushed. 

Robert looked away from him for a minute or two, Aaron chewing on his thumbnail while he waited him out. “Diane gave Andy my dad’s ring. They’re having it melted down for him and Katie,” he explained finally. 

That was probably the last thing Aaron had expected to hear him say. “Well that’s...nice. I suppose.” 

But Robert looked like it was anything but. A twitch of anger contorted his face as he slammed his latest bottle down on the table, making the others jump and then settle with a chorus of clangs. Aaron wracked his brain, remembering the way Robert had pulled away from him immediately when Andy and Katie had shown up in the cafe the other day, the way he’d avoided any and all talk of his dad with Diane at the bar when they’d had their tea. He knew Robert had a lot of baggage when it came to his family but he couldn’t quite put it all together to make sense of it. 

“You wanted the ring,” he put out there. 

“They didn’t even ask me,” Robert told him. “She just gave it away. Andy’s not even his real son.”

“Robert-”

“Don’t alright. I’ve finally-I’ve worked so hard-I’m getting married too, you know,” Robert stumbled over the words, slurring a bit. 

“To a woman,” Aaron ventured, wondering if Jack Sugden had known something. 

“I’m not gay,” Robert sneered at him, looking disgusted at the thought. 

It hurt. Aaron knew he probably didn’t mean it like that, but it still hurt. “Robert it’s okay-”

“No,” Robert said firmly and stood up, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll find my own way home.” 

---

Adam came home the next day and Aaron fell into a comfortable rhythm with his best friend. It was almost like they’d never been apart, separated by France and then prison. They were in the Woolpack, having a few beers, playing darts and he wasn’t thinking about Robert. Well, he was trying not to anyway. After he’d stalked off the day before, he’d decided he’d give him some space perhaps, let him get his head around stuff maybe before he approached him again. Adam was a welcome distraction from all of that. 

The reprieve didn’t last long though because all of a sudden Robert had appeared while he went to pull the darts out of the board for his next turn. He was there, leaning against the bar, talking to Victoria and glaring at him. Well, no, he was glaring at Adam. 

“Who’s that?” he heard him ask his sister. 

“Oh just the love of his life,” Vic sighed dramatically, which he could see was just rubbing salt in an already festering wound. “No, that’s Adam, Moira’s son.” 

Robert nodded, turning back to them and glaring harder, like if he tried hard enough he could make Adam disappear. Shaking his head, he wondered what Robert would make of the fact that he used to have a little crush on Adam, back when he was young and stupid and just sorting out his head. 

Three turns later, he was tired of it, feeling Robert’s eyes boring into the back of his head every time he turned around, tired of seeing his sulking face every time he looked back at him. If he wanted him, he could have him any time. The realization made his skin heat up because he knew it was true. He wasn’t sure when that had happened. He guess Ross hadn’t been wrong when he said he fancied him. He couldn’t seem to help himself. 

Adam punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Where’s your head at, bro?” 

“Nowhere,” Aaron sighed, dragging his eyes away from Robert’s intense gaze. “Get the next round in, yeah? Just gotta nip to the bogs.” 

“Yeah alright,” Adam agreed, heading to make eyes at Vic at the bar. Aaron knew that would keep him busy. 

In the toilets, he leaned against the wall and waited. As expected, Robert followed him in, looking half crazed with jealousy. It shouldn’t have been a turn on but it was. Aaron peeled himself away from the wall and crowded into Robert’s space which only served to make him nervous, backing away like cold water had been doused over him. 

“I don’t get you,” Aaron said. “One minute you’re staring at me like that and then the next you’re running. What are you so scared of?”

“I’m not scared,” Robert argued, but he didn’t sound convincing. 

“Then,” Aaron started, stepping closer again, but Robert took another step back, his back hitting the wall behind him, trapped. “You’re a coward.” 

Aaron hurled the word at him and turned to go. He’d tried the soft approach, but it didn’t seem to work. Issuing a challenge might be the only way to get through to Robert. 

---

‘Coward’.

The word rang in Robert’s ears as he watched Aaron go, his whole body alert and wanting. He wanted Aaron so badly it was killing him at this point and it was clear that Aaron wanted him too. So what was the problem? Everything. He couldn’t. It was one thing to have a one night stand with a random bloke on a business trip he was never going to see again. It was another to go after the local grumpy mechanic on his own doorstep, in the village he grew up in, the village that felt like a fishbowl at the best of times. And he knew, deep down, if he went there, it would never just be a one night stand. 

His feet were taking him out of the door and chasing after Aaron before his mind could stop him. He’d gone out the back and was stomping stubbornly through the village. Robert felt ridiculous running after him but he couldn’t help himself. 

“Will you wait up?” he called after him. 

Aaron rounded on him, eyes narrowed, and spit the words at him. “No Robert. You had your chance and you just blew it.” 

He turned again and continued on and Robert followed, a new determination taking hold. This is what he’d wanted, he knew that, from that first offered coffee. From the first time he saw him in that barn really, his quiet confidence a sharp contrast to Ross running his mouth. He’d wanted him then and he wanted him now, so much so he was traipsing across half the village to get to him. 

Finally, he caught up to him on the bridge, the trees shading them from view, secluded. “Aaron,” he called his name. 

“What?” he grunted as he turned on his heel to face him. “I can’t keep doing this forever. I don’t like being messed around. I mean if you just want to be mates then-”

“I don’t,” Robert blurted, his hands shaking at his sides. “I mean...you know-”

“I know,” Aaron said quietly and reached out toward him. 

It was involuntary but he flinched and all of a sudden Aaron was seeing red again and trying to push past him, his shoulder knocking into him roughly. He was messing this up. He couldn’t let him go again. Hand shooting out, he grabbed hold of Aaron’s arm and twisted him back around to face him and before he could think about the long list of reasons why this was a terrible idea, he lunged at him, hands grabbing at his cheeks, rough stubble scraping against his palms, and pulling him toward him, mashing their lips together in a frenzied kiss. A kiss that took his breath away. A kiss that would no doubt make his life very complicated but a kiss he’d never forget. 

[pretendfan]

[Now Your Mine]

(A/N I just had to write something for Adrian on my birthday, hope you all enjoy🖤this is pure self indulgent nonsense!!)

Adrian Chase Appreciation Week

Day 5 // Colours

(Pairing)

Adrian Chase x Female Reader

(Summary)

When nothing else works you rely on Adrian’s favourite colour to finally win him over….

(Words)

3260

(Warnings)

Face sitting, angst, fluff, p & v sexy times, idiots in love, miscommunications, admitting feels, happy ending…

Arriving unannounced at your best friends house wasn’t unusual, but you were here for one reason and one reason only.

To make Adrian jealous…

There was nothing else left to do, you had exhausted all previous endeavours trying to get the object of your affection to notice you.

To see you as someone other than one of his oldest friends, who has for at least three years crushed on Adrian from afar, to no avail.

But tonight you had a weapon, knowing Adrian would finally see you as more than just friends, you had previously seen signs that the feeling was mutual but he wasn’t making any moves.

Knocking on Adrian’s front door again, he answers with a smile then silently lets you in whilst you prepare yourself for your greatest performance yet.

Not that you was an actress or anything but you were just going to put Adrian on the spot, force your hand to make him decide and this was the only way how.

“Hey, Ade sorry I didn’t message-“

“That’s cool, y’know you can pop by anytime like any specific time and I will be probably here.” Adrian states with a smirk aimed back at you.

“Cool, cos I need your help I-“

“What’s happened, are you ok?!” Adrian cuts you off grabbing onto both of your arms, green eyes searching your own for a clue.

“It’s fine!” You begin with a laugh then add “ I just need to use your shower, mine is not working and I kind of have a date tonight.”

“A date?!” Adrian squeaks in surprise making you look up at him as he tries to pull a normal face, but you just know he is struggling with this information.

Feeling bad, you knew this was the only way to make up a fake date you had with some guy who hadn’t asked you out at work, just to make him jealous.

Sure, as plans go this one was hugely flawed but it was all you had, that and the secret weapon you had tucked in your large tote bag.

“Oh ok, I mean it’s free the shower and of course you have a date you deserve it but-“

“Thanks, Adrian!“ You lean across on tip toes to kiss him softly on his cheek, which sent you every single time because you adored this guy in front of you.

But there weren’t any words you hadn’t already told Adrian, trying to tell him how you felt with him usual passing it off as a joke keeping you at arms length, but enough was enough.

Leaving Adrian standing there you move around him to head to your destination, his bathroom where you hoped he would soon follow with more questions about your date.

Hearing the door softly click shut, Adrian tries and fails to get a complete hold on his thoughts, you had a date tonight?

Adrian instantly knew this was an awful chain of events, but what could he do other than barricade the bathroom door so you couldn’t get out.

Feelings that he had long since tried to ignore resurface, making his stomach ache like he had eaten far too much candy whilst he suddenly felt very inclined to punch the hallway wall, hard.

This was ridiculous, he knew what he had to do what words he needed to say to make things right to make this sick feeling disappear but his mouth felt bitter around the sentences they couldn’t form.

What if you laughed in his face? Adrian wasn’t very good at opening up to people even you sometimes, so the thought of telling you his true feelings wasn’t a pretty one to say the least.

Standing under the warm shower you smile to yourself when you use Adrian’s shower gel which reminds you of his face which always improved your mood, no matter what.

Finally stepping out you wrap a blue towel around yourself, a little sad that Adrian hadn’t come to talk to you usually he would follow you anywhere to finish a conversation he was invested in.

Maybe he didn’t care that you were actually going on a date , fake or otherwise so perhaps this was all just a waste.

It was time to make use of the secret weapon…

Making sure your towel was perfectly secure you head out of the bathroom, noticing that Adrian had gone from the hallway, where was he?

“Hey, can I get changed in your room?” You call out to Adrian who loudly grumbles some reply in your direction so you take that as a yes.

Heading into Adrian’s room you place your tote bag into the unmade bed, which was covered in his Fennel Fields uniform and cute hat, which you pick up and put on your head.

Feeling stupid you quickly take it off then decide to get changed into the underwear, you hoped that Adrian would see you in very soon and lose his mind.

The colour was very similar to the teal stripe he has adorned on his Vigilante costume, with you knowing full well want Adrian did, the masked anti hero of Evergreen.

For someone who was always so sure to keep himself discreet, you had caught Vigilante breaking into Adrian’a apartment months ago, freaked out obviously until he had started talking.

For a good twenty minutes Adrian had put on a fake voice, asking you why you were here making up lots of bullshit, until he realised it wasn’t working so he finally came clean.

So tonight you wanted him to see this outfit and it drive him nuts, like he would just go insane you wanted him on his knees begging in front or you, ready to be all yours.

Untying your hair from the bun you wore on top of your head, you let your mid length hair fall down into messy curls, that you thread your hands through hoping this was gonna work.

Pulling out the soft silk underwear from your bag you smile to yourself, admiring the teal colour you hoped that Adrian would see and basically just lose the plot.

Sitting on the couch in his small living room, Adrian wonders what he could do to change things, unless it was to late but you hadn’t left the apartment yet.

Perhaps Adrian could persuade you to stay here instead of going on this date, you could watch a couple of movies together instead on the couch cuddling up close.

Adrian always loved it when you threw your legs over his thighs snuggling against him, whilst you listened to him talk over said movie, with you hanging onto his every word.

Right now he wanted nothing more than to just have you here with him, even though you were in his room currently, making Adrian wonder why you were taking so long to get ready.

Before he could think about it Adrian decides to go see you, even though he wasn’t ready to see you looking good for another guy that wasn’t him, it just wasn’t right.

Hell, Adrian knew you looked good in anything he would stare at you happily, even in your old silk pjs with the pants that were too long but you looked gorgeous to him every single time.

Quickly getting up from the couch, Adrian walks towards his bedroom without even thinking about what he was going to say, he just needed to see you.

Standing in your underwear you were very close to just walking out to see Adrian, when you hear footsteps so you decided to put on a show hoping that he would take a good look.

The outfit in question was a soft silk bra, which had a thick ribbon at the front and matching underwear that also had a ribbon on each side of your hip it was very revealing and not something you would just wear everyday.

Adrian looks into his wide open bedroom door to see you standing there, in underwear which made his eyes widen partly because of the colour but mostly cos of how fucking hot you looked.

Hair down loose and curly Adrian takes you all in with a deep gulp that has you turning round, to see your best friend looking at you with big round eyes.

“Hey I-“

“You are not wearing that tonight!” Adrian snaps feeling his blood suddenly start to boil at the very idea of some other guy seeing you.

“Oh, why is that Adrian?” You ask him brushing some curls out of your face noticing the red flush creeping around the back of his neck and the very top of his ears.

“Because I don’t want no one else besides me seeing you like this, fuck you look so hot!” Adrian waves his hands in front of him as if to make a point which makes you smile.

“You think I look hot?” You asks Adrian placing a hand on your waist, whilst pulling your shoulders back so your chest was pushed out.

Adrian is just staring at you still with wide eyes and a open mouth, partly from what he had just admitted but seeing you wearing that underwear had rewired his brain, he wanted you so desperately.

“You know I do.” Adrian states taking a couple more steps into his room, which has you taking a step back when you notice the look on his face.

“So, what happens now?“ You ask Adrian in what you hoped was a confident voice but even you could hear the desperation yourself.

Grabbing onto your lower arm Adrian pulls you closer towards him, with a smug look on his face as he stares down at you with lust filled eyes, you had finally broken him.

“What happens.” Begins Adrian leaning closer to talk right next to the shell of your ear “ Is you stay here with me and I don’t let you out of my sight because your all mine.”

Hitching your breath in response to the words you had so longed to hear, Adrian smiles back at you then places his lips to your neck not moving them just breathing in your scent as you feel his hot breath.

“You drive me so fucking crazy, but I need you, like right now I want to rip off your underwear and fuck you so hard” Adrian finally says in a gravelly voice sounding unsure until he hears you gasp from his words which makes you lick your bottom lip excitedly.

“I’ve wanted this-“

“I know.” Adrian states lifting his head up from your neck to capture your surprised lips in a deep kiss, whilst his warm hands wrap around you middle pulling you closer to his firm chest.

Desperate kisses that make you sigh into Adrian’s mouth, whilst he tighten his grip around you his tongue gliding along your bottom lip only to slide eagerly across your own.

One of your hands reach up to the back of Adrian’s curly hair, running it through then holding firmly onto the soft tufts which makes him groan then bite your lip teasingly.

“Wow.” You announce moving away to catch your breath because Adrian clearly liked kissing, going by the look on his eyes, pupils blown but filled with something that excited you.

“Turn around.” Adrian demands in a voice which instantly has you spinning round on the spot, to feel his hand move some of your hair from your shoulder, then pulling you flush against him he places a chaste kiss on your neck.

Followed by another which makes you relax into the warm feeling of his body against yours, feeling the hard curve of his cock pressed tightly against your lower back.

“I need you-“

You cry out when you feel Adrian bite down on the soft skin of your neck, teeth sinking in only moments later to be replaced by a gentle lick of his tongue.

“Now your mine.” Adrian tells you only to bite down again over the same spot which makes you arch your back against him whilst he continued to feast on your neck.

“I’m yours.” You nod when you feel his warm lips gliding over the bite mark which makes you grab at his face, turning back round to kiss him again.

Lips collide hurriedly as Adrian replaces his hands on your hips pulling you towards his bed where he sits down and then directs you to straddle his lap, which you do in desperation whilst not even breaking the kiss between you two.

Adrian tries to pull at your underwear but it’s difficult with you grinding down into his groin, feeling his jeans tighten which could soon become a problem.

“Let me.” You tell Adrian who groans into your lips so you move letting his hands fall away, only for him to quickly remove his dark blue shirt revealing his toned chest and abs that made you lick your lips.

Adrian just sits there and watches as you slowly untie the silk ribbons either side of your hip, letting your underwear fall to the floor.

“Fuck, your gorgeous!” Adrian whines grabbing hold of your wrists, to pull you on top of him as he falls back onto the bed his lips meeting yours yet again in a hurried wet kiss.

“I-“

“I think you should sit on my face.” Adrian cuts you off already removing his glasses ready, whilst you balance between his waist considering his offer.

“I’ve never-“

“Please, I just want to eat you out and feel you ride my face it’s been a fantasy of mine for ages.” Adrian pleads then adds “ I will make you feel so good, you would look so hot riding me.”

“Ok.” You nod sitting up on your knees to quickly remove your bra which has Adrian staring at your tits, then grabbing them as you travel up his body.

Adrian’s mouth captures one of your breasts as he slowly glides his hot tongue across your already pebbled nipples, causing you to grind into his chest.

“Not yet, come closer.” Adrian jokes as you move your knees between either side of his face whilst he looks happily up at you, dimpled smirk on his face that makes your eager pussy throb.

“What if I-“

“I’ve got you.” Adrian smiles softly up at you placing a kiss on your thigh which makes you bite your lip as he adds “Are you ready?”

You nod silently at the same time that you feel Adrian’s hands grab your ass, then he lowers them to the back of your thighs gripping tightly to hold you in place.

“I need words, princess.” Adrian tells you encouragingly which makes you smirk back.

“I’m ready.” You state brushing some stray curls from his cute face which makes his dimples widen but moments later they disappear when Adrian pulls you down onto his face.

With a little readjusting you feel his hot breath on your soaked pussy, briefly feeling embarrassed, but that disappears when you feel Adrian‘s nose rub against your folds followed by his warm mouth.

Sure you have had someone go down on your before, but you had never sat on someone’s face and be as completely consumed, just like how Adrian was devouring you right now which felt like absolute bliss.

Rocking your hips against Adrian’s skilled mouth soon makes your muscles tighten in anticipation, the thread soon about to break whilst he continues to fuck you with his tongue deep in your pussy.

“Ahh!” You cry out after one last glide of his strong tongue has you fast approaching an orgasm which makes your thighs shake around Adrian’s face whilst he continues to lick you your muscles fluttering with every touch.

“Fuck that was hot.” Adrian smiles as you move back to see his wet mouth, and wide eyed smile placing your hand through his soft hair to momentarily ground yourself.

“I agree-“

“I’m not finished with you yet.” Adrian cuts you off whilst you move your knees back to balance yourself on his chest leaning down to kiss his soft lips tasting yourself whilst he groaned into your mouth.

Feeling Adrian wiggling you look behind you to see him undoing his jeans, freeing his cock which from even at this angle looks long and thick, two things you liked very much.

Backing up further Adrian watches as you lean done to spread kisses across his pecs, licking his nipples which has him sighing as he takes two hands into your mess of curls, moving them so he could see your pretty face.

He drops the hair when Adrian feels your wet folds brush agains the tip of his cock, which makes its bounce hard against your wanting slit.

“There is no going back after this, I want this and I need-“

“I need this too, please fuck me.” You cry out when Adrian jerks his hips up making the head of his cock rub against you teasingly, it was actual agony.

“Fuck your so beautiful.” Adrian begins with a smile then adds “ Let’s stay like this because I want to see your face when you lose control.”

“Ok.” You nod taking this moment to sink yourself slowly down onto Adrian’s cock which fits you perfectly, albeit filling you up completely your muscles throbbing against him in response.

“Dammit you feel so good, your pussy was made for me this is karma, damn is this my prize for waiting so long to fuck-“

“Adrian.” You soothe looking up at him seated on his dick, feeling safe, loved and above all else eager for this to start happening.

“Sorry! Oh fuck!” Adrian groans when you start to slowly move on top of him and he thrust upwards matching your pace, his eyes watching your face the whole time.

The air soon turns desperate when you are rocking faster onto his cock, whist he snaps his hips hurriedly both chasing your orgasms, when you feel yours hit you first closely followed by Adrian who curses loudly.

“That needs to happen again.” Adrian states whilst you chuckle placing your head on his chest, still inside him but smiling to yourself when he wraps his arms tightly around your middle.

“Can we cuddle first.” You smile looking up moving yourself from your seat on Adrian’s cock, laying down next to him as he quickly wraps you into a tight hug.

“I can’t believe you never realised how much I loved you.” Adrian sighs then adds “I was too afraid to say anything like a loser, but I have adored you for years.”

“I never knew what to say, so I wore this underwear to make you see.” You nod with a shy smile.

“My favourite colour, as soon as I saw it I just went mad.” Adrian chuckled placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“It was hot.” You admit teasingly making Adrian groan back.

“I don’t think we should leave this bedroom for the rest of the night, we can lick each other’s sweat to stay hydrated.” Laughs Adrian whilst you pulled a face back at him.

“I’m all for the first part, but I definitely need a water before we continue.” You wink at Adrian getting up from the bed as he grudgingly lets you go.

As your relationship blossoms anew you try to keep things exciting by buying new underwear and outfits to wear in the bedroom, always teal and it’s always extra fun when Adrian wears his Vigilante costume, with the mask still on of course.

[victorluvsalice]

Of course I don't, you didn't tell me before now. :p Though it is worth noting that you're talking "weird" to someone whose current OT3 is a stop-motion puppet, a third-person-shooter action-adventure-platformer based off "Alice's Adventures In Wonderland" video game protagonist, and a rollercoaster. So -- yeah. XD

Clusterfuck crossovers are fun! As you probably know from my original Secundus story. XD And I took a quick look at the premise for that fic -- interesting stuff! Pretty good set-up for multifandom clusterfuck shenanigans, that's for sure. And I'm in favor of BTTF being merged into anything, as those movies remain some of my favorites to this day. :D

LOL, I see -- well, that's fair then XD I've had ideas like that -- in fact, I'm currently trying to get one out of my head and onto virtual paper because it just won't leave me alone (in the best way of course). We'll see what comes of it, and of your stuff!

Awww, I see -- well, it's not a bad place to start shenanigans, I suppose, with Victor and Alice still getting used to each other and slowly growing a friendship. :) Plus the OCs don't have to worry about Alice's A:MR hallucinations JUST yet. Though I guess that depends on how long the fics themselves are. :p And yeah, you self-care it up -- I may not do stuff with OCs generally myself (though I guess Smiler counts), but I'm not gonna yuck anyone else's yum. You do the fun stuff you wanna do!

LOL -- so the clusterfuck is just taking a lot of ships and characters you like and throwing them in a pot together, so to speak? Hell, that's what I did with Secundus, so *thumbs up* Self-indulgent nonsense is great, and world-building can be tons of fun! Hopefully that goes well for you!

The BTTF One sounds intriguing -- poor Doc and Marty, they're probably So Done with getting stuck in time periods not their own. Though at least 1875 isn't the worst year to be stuck in? *shrug* And yeah, I can imagine Alice's initial response to someone being that friendly to her would be "what's your angle" -- though she probably warms up as the OC indicates she genuinely doesn't think Alice is completely out of her gourd. And when she starts giving shit to Bumby. Even if Alice hasn't figured out what the hell Bumby's deal is by that point, she knows he's kind of a prick, so... XD And Victor isn't going to disapprove of the OC giving the guy who's trying to force him to forget Emily a bad time! Though I am intrigued by her giving them bisexual/biromantic disaster... XD But yes, sounds very interesting! I hope you enjoy noodling around with it, and with your other idea! :)

Helo yes, I just want to say that I found your Forgotten Vows verse again, and also your Secundus verse, because of @thesatiricaldemon 's "Beneath A Broken Sky" and all I have to say is:

... how dare you both, now I have two AU fic ideas that sprouted from them because of inspiration! [Positive] (Actually three, but that one is just an afterthought)

*snrrrk* How very dare we XD But hey, I'm glad that both my fics and SatiricalDemon's have been inspiring to you! Love to know more about what percolating in your head! (And hey, don't dismiss that "afterthought" idea -- my ORIGINAL idea for an Alice: Madness Returns / Corpse Bride crossover after the release of the former was for them to meet after Alice killed Dr. Bumby and Victor had gone through both the "corpse bride" incident and its aftermath, but while I was sorting out that, I had a stray thought of "but what if Victor's parents hadn't believed him and instead sent him to Dr. Bumby to force him to forget the whole thing...and we see where THAT ended up. XD)