#i started a new book i was really excited about and it’s absolute ASS so far the writing it genuinely making me angry

[cetoddle]

today is one of those days that it feels like the whole entire world is doing everything in its power to work against me and piss me off

[mvskedxrtist]

Hello there so I saw you write Hazbin hotel you can do this request anytime you want.

Anyway- can I request Alastor x top male reader.

Alastor was in the mood / heat because he a deer demon after all and decide to go ask his husband (reader) too helping just smut and fluff after sex.

Before I request this I already read the rule because I don't want to be unrespectful.

I'm not English so- if I say something that making you confused I am so sorry and apologize for it.

My Needy Deer

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Praise, Edging, Soft Alastor, Slightly OOC Alastor, Oral (M Giving)

Nᴏᴛᴇ: Thank you for the request! Oh my first request! I'm so happy that I was trusted for this prompt! A new star in the form of this will be in the sky because of you! Aka, thank you so much for this! I'm so excited. Now for this request, if Alastor is a bit OOC, I'm sorry. I really tried my hardest to keep him as canon as possible while doing this.

AMAB!Husband!Reader x Alastor - My Needy Deer

It was a normal day in Hell, like usual. Murder, sex, chaos, everything was happening like it has. It was three months away from the fated extermination and Alastor decided to just do a normal radio broadcast for that day.

The Radio Demon was taunting Vox once again through his microphone when he got a sinking feeling in his stomach, heat pulling in as his ears fell on his head. "Damn it..." He muttered and walked out of his studio before heading back towards his shared room in the hotel.

Alastor had walked into the room and sighed gently when he saw you reading on the lounge chair. "Well hello, darling." "Oh, hello Alastor. You finished your show early." You got up from the chair and placed the book on the end table as you got up and petted his head.

You instantly noticed how Alastor's grip on his staff was more stiff than usual and that his ears were down. "Al... Are you ok?" You asked him gently and gave him a soft smile which made his face get slightly red.

He had realized once walking in that he was in his heat and you just getting closer to him just made his urges worse. "My dear husband... It's that time of the year..." Alastor told you gently while his tail was shaking gently, his nerves going a bit crazy until you held his hips gently and chuckled. "Aww, ok then baby."

You placed his staff on the side of the bed and pulled him onto the bed, helping him get undressed quickly. Alastor felt his senses heighten even more and helped you take your clothes off quickly before he started sucking your cock quick. "Gah!~ Fuck yes..~" You groaned under your mouth and leaned back a bit to watch your husband become obsessed once again with your cock.

Alastor whined softly as he continued to suck on your dick, trying to stimulate you quickly so then his heat could be solved faster. You grumbled and pushed Alastor's head off your cock before laying him down and sliding into his asshole quickly, groaning loudly from how tight he was.

You smirked at his dazed face, looking down to see the oh so powerful radio demon seem so fucked out. Alastor's tail and ears were down flat as you were pounding his ass hard, crackling moans coming from his mouth. "S-shit!~ H-hahh~ d-daddy~" He wrapped his arms around your neck while he could feel by going deeper.

Your thrusts went so deep inside of him at such a fast pace that he could barely keep his mind clear, only thinking about you filling him with your cum and giving him fawn. "Such a pretty doe~ so obedient for me~" You caressed his face with your thumbs while you thrusted faster, loud clapping filling the room.

Alastor's face flushed slightly from your words and whined softly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he came all over himself. You chuckled and kissed him gently as you slammed deep inside of him and came inside of his asshole. Alastor was exhausted and gave you a lopsided smile while you chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair to calm him down.

"How do you feel my deer?" "Absolutely exhausted, my husband." You both chuckled softly and cuddled against one another, resting for the night.

[artificial-transmutations]

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

[theonewiththefanfics]

Love Conquers All (one-shot)

Synopsys: The wedding is finally afoot. Astarion and his love have fought for it tooth and nail, but could there be more to life after happily-ever-after?

Set after the main events of BG3 This is a follow up to Homecoming (one-shot). Would probably advise reading it beforehand :)

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst, insecure Astarion, but just pure teeth-rotting fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, mentions of SA

Word count: 8875

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Astarion knew ever since he met Y/N, she was the only one he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. They had gone through hells and back for one another, quite literally going head-to-head with a devil. They’d fought for their happily ever after tooth and nail, and now, the biggest day of their lives (yet) was here.

           The vampire spawn woke up from his trance jittery and excited for what was to come. It had been ages since he’d felt this way, such joy while looking forward to what the day had installed for him because he was finally going to marry the love of his life.

           Their day would be perfect, Astarion had done everything to ensure it. He’d taken to wedding planning like a cat to cream, making sure that once their day arrived, even the smallest detail would be flawless.

           It had taken them two years to settle on a time of the year, let alone a date, but that had given him enough time to grow the flowers for the arrangements that now decorated their house, fussing with them like one would with a child (and sometimes threatening a certain rose if it didn’t grow the way he wanted it to). He even invertedly created a couple of new variates in the process, but those were specifically relegated as the flowers Y/N would weave in her hair for the ceremony.

           He had even meticulously studied cookery books, having his parents along with his love be his taste testers, seeing he couldn’t really enjoy eating human food, but he’d be damned if something disgusting would be served in his house, no less on his wedding day. Unless it had a ten out of ten approval from everyone involved, Astarion scrapped the recipe and started over. He was fairly certain the caterers hated him because he’d made them prepare the food before and until they got it absolutely right, he was on their asses day and night.

           But if he had to pick a favourite process throughout all the planning, it was when Y/N had come to him late one night as he burrowed himself in his sowing room and requested, that he design and make her wedding dress. Astarion almost got down on his knees in reverence as she looked at him with such tender eyes. And, well, let’s just say – during fittings, his hands might’ve skimmed the inside of her thighs on more than one occasion, and his head might’ve slipped below the skirt to taste between her legs, wholly unprofessional.

           Oh, and that dream of a house with a grand library, where shelves of books stretched from one corner to the other, and a large ballroom to host parties until daylight broke – no longer was it a simple dream, but rather his reality. Not only that, he could hear people fussing all across the house as hired staff prepared final details and decorations for the ceremony.

           The new house, or let’s be honest, the manor, Astarion and Y/N lived in, had not come easy though. He’d pretty much brought his lover to the end of her wits when they’d gone on the search for their dream home. In the end, it boiled down to her threatening to make them live in the forest like Halsin, sleeping on the hard ground, if he didn’t come to a decision.

           Astarion was aghast at the suggestion, crossing his arms and pouting hard. “Why are you so upset about this?” He couldn’t understand what the big issue was with him being so picky. “We’re looking for the place to start our new lives in! It has to be no less than absolute excellence! Do you not want that?”

           “Of course, I do!” Y/N rolled her eyes, putting her half-drunk wine glass on the bedside table and shifting her body to completely face him. “But nothing is perfect in this world, Star.”

           When he narrowed his scarlet gaze at her, she huffed and shifted to sit on her knees, cupping his face between her palms. “Nothing in life is without its flaws, but that’s the beauty of it all. It gives us a chance to grow and change. And it’s the same with a house. Floors are fixable. Sofas and divans can be reupholstered. Walls can be repainted, those dilapidated wallpapers ripped off, hells we can knock the wall down if we want to… but we will never find our perfect home if we don’t put the work in and make it ourselves.”

           Y/N’s soft thumb ventured up to smooth out the grumpy lines that had appeared on Astarion’s forehead. “If you want perfect, you have to do the work to make it so. Because that last house we saw, the one you said could be ours, if it didn’t have those stains on the table or that feeling wallpaper or the hole in the roof that needs fixing – that was someone else’s perfect home because they made it that way.”

           Astarion scrunched his nose. “Did a shitty job, that’s for sure.”

           If Y/N could roll her eyes any harder, he was sure they’d get stuck in the back of the skull like that. “My point is, we have to make it that way. Yes, the whole process will be long and tedious and I’m fairly certain, there will be moments where we want to kill each other, because, gods forbid, I want the blackout curtains to be emerald not burgundy. But none of that will matter because it will be ours… what can be more perfect than that?”

           The vampire always had a comment on the tip of his tongue, he always had a sarcastic remark or some sort of critique to offer, but to this, he had nothing to reply, as he pondered the words.

           Y/N tilted her head, a smile blooming on her lovely mouth. “I know you want everything to be exactly how you see it in your head, right from the very start. I know you don’t want to fight anymore, and gods, my love, you don’t deserve to fight for anything, but this isn’t it… this is change. And I think you’re more scared than annoyed at all the little things that might need mending.”

           Astarion averted his gaze, looking past Y/N and to the window, the bright light of the moon illuminating the woods beyond. From the corner of the eye, he could see her engagement ring, the ruby glinting like a star in the sky. A finger brushed over his brow, soothing him. “I think you’re nervous to go after what you want, so you’re trying to find any possible reason as to why every house we’ve viewed has had something unfixable to it.”

           Closing his eyes, Astarion leaned into her touch. “I hate it when you can see through me like that.” He hated to admit it. It felt like some sort of weakness to be seen so clearly, but he also knew Y/N would never judge him for his fears. But it was still hard to voice them. “I just – I’m scared it will be different.”

           “It will be.” She shrugged. “But different doesn’t mean it’ll be bad.”

           He didn’t seem convinced though as his mind and attention drifted off, and she had to tilt his chin towards her, a kiss to his forehead bringing him back into the moment. “My Star, we can always stay right where we are. I love this house. And as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter where we make our home.”

           “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, my love,” Astarion let out an undignified scoff. “As darling as this place is, I still want that library. And, well, maybe a tailoring room would be lovely. And I can’t say I would be opposed to a walk-in closet, instead of that little dresser we have now.”

           More and more his lips turned into a smile and his gaze lightened as they went on until the morning dawned, talking and mapping out what their perfect abode would be like. They talked about the colours of the walls, where they’d like to hang paintings and how many mattresses their bed should have. Astarion insisted on at least three, so it would feel like resting on a cloud. Y/N thought it was a bit ridiculous, but if that was what he wanted, it’s what he would get. As long as he promised her to have separate duvets, the cover hog that he was.

           They settled on a manor near the city, but far enough from the crowds to still keep some sort of privacy. She had been right about the restorations being long and mind-numbingly taxing and took them over a year and a half to return the manor to its former glory. All of their funds sank into it, and as Y/N had also warned – there came a moment where it seemed like they would rip one another’s heads off, having to spend a night in separate rooms. But now they got to relish in the fruits of their labour as the ballroom Astarion had manifested was being transformed into their wedding chapel.

           He lazily stretched out his limbs, curling around his still-sleeping love. If he’d had a tail, the cat that he was, he would weave it over Y/N’s middle and curl it, trying to pull her closer if possible.

           The woman grumbled something unintelligible, tightening the hold she had on one of the four pillows she had.

           “Good morning, my wife. Our big day is here. Time to get up.” Gently, he brushed strands of wild hair from her face, placing them behind her ear, to which he leaned down and gave a playful nibble. To Astarion’s delight, he felt a shiver run down her spine, her toes curling against where she’d pressed them to his calf.

           “Not your wife yet,” Y/N grumped, turning so that she could hide her face in the crook of his neck, tickling the sensitive skin there with warm puffs of breath. “And your bride needs her beauty sleep unless you wish for her to look like a troll at the altar. Didn’t give me much of it last night.”

           A wicked grin formed on his mouth, one incisor lightly biting on her earlobe. “I didn’t hear you complaining though. In fact, I didn’t hear you say anything but my name.”

           Teasing fingers brushed against her ribs and the underside of her breasts, a breath hitching in Y/N’s chest. When he splayed his hand against her stomach, she hummed in pleasure, the sound reverberating through his chest and seeping into his bones.

           Her own palms moved from hugging Astarion’s side to his back, nails softly scratching up and down the skin there – so very tenderly over the scars, but with a bit of a bite right above his rear. If he could purr, he would be, but alas, he just moaned and melted like an icicle in the sun.

           It was almost tempting to just stay in the bed like that, twining together and just relishing in one another’s touch.

           “When are your parents getting here?” Y/N yawned and pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “Your mother promised to help me with the dress and hair.”

           “Right as the sun goes down. We should have plenty of time before the moon is high.”

           They had decided on a night-time wedding, so the following celebrations could be moved outside into the lavish gardens Astarion had so lovingly created. He may not be able to walk in the sun anymore, but he’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy at least the moonlight. Besides, daytime weddings were so casual, and he was anything but.

           He rested his palm in between Y/N’s breasts, but he just kept it there, didn’t try and stray any further. He simply wanted to feel how her heart beat against his palm, the rhythm a steadying and grounding feeling, and it somewhat calmed his fluttery nerves.

           “Then we have a few more hours to sleep,” came Y/N’s slurred response as she hitched a leg over his naked hip, but she didn’t try to go any further either. “And you are not getting out of this bed, my personal pillow.”

           Astarion smiled at her words and kissed her forehead. He’d been smiling an awful lot since he met her. “Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

           And even though he itched to go downstairs and supervise every single thing, he allowed the peace that came with being next to Y/N to settle over him as well. It was their day. His day. And starting it off with his little human sweetheart wrapped around him like a vine, keeping him close to her, was nothing short of wonderful.

           At some point, she did fall asleep again, Astarion’s movements as his deft fingers massaged the back of her head, lulling her to dreamland. His mind drifted a bit but remained more alert than when he tranced, wandering to how exactly he’d gotten to a moment where in just a few little hours he’d become someone’s husband.

           Not only did he have Y/N, but he had his parents to relish in the moment with. He had friends, something that was competently out of the question for two hundred years, and all of them would be arriving to witness the most joyous day of his life. Him! With friends! He even had a true sister, something that’d surprised even him.

           That had come about when Astarion had ventured into the Underdark once and reconnected with Darylia. At first, he’d thought there would be too much bad blood between them, no pun intended. It’s why he’d strayed away from the region after he’d freed the rest of the seven thousand spawn from Cazador. Too many painful memories bound them, but instead of admonishments, he found comfort.

           He’d bumped into Dalyria at a tavern as he was tracking down an artefact. Astarion was nothing short of astonished when she invited him to a tavern for a drink. The conversation was awkward at first, but as they talked more and more, she seemed to be actually happy for him as he confirmed he was still with Y/N, had a little house by the forest to call their own and spent his days keeping in touch with the party that’d formed during the tadpole adventure while trying to get a sowing business off the ground. She was even more ecstatic to hear when Astarion announced he was engaged.

           Dal had a wistful smile on her face. “I would be a liar if I said I didn’t envy you, but… you deserve it. All that happiness… after what Cazador put you through, you deserve all that’s good.”

           He didn’t want to, but a ball formed in his throat at her words. “Cazador wasn’t kind to any of us.”

           “No,” she mussed. “But you did free us from him. And when you had the chance to take his power for yourself, to become the most powerful vampire in existence, you didn’t. You allowed us to go out there and regain the years we lost under his control. To make our own lives. For that, you deserve only the best.”

           A snort escaped him as he swirled the remains of his wine. “Y/N would say not committing mass murder is quite a low bar, if that’s why I’m worthy of happiness.”

           “Maybe, but no one would fault you had you gone for it.”

           “Maybe…” Astarion pondered. “But I would not have been worthy of Y/N, then. That is for sure.”

           Dalyria clinked her glass of blood against his before emptying it, and he was glad he had not been drinking himself as he sure would have choked on the drink. “Will you teach me how to find love? I – I think I’d like to find what you two have. Become… worthy of having it.”

           Astarion didn’t know how to respond, but ultimately said he could only try, yet unless the change came from within, there wasn’t much he could do. And the hardest part wouldn’t be learning how to find love, but learning how to love oneself. Only then you could learn how to love others.

           “Seems awfully tedious,” Dalyria’s brow had furrowed.

           He chuckled and nodded. “It is. But I’ve learned, as much as it can be boring, it’s worth it in the end.”

           It had taken time for the vampire to start the process of self-acceptance and processing the trauma, but Astarion was right there by her side, and now, she would be by his, a partner of her own next to her, a human at that, as he tied the knot.

           Y/N’s nose scrunched in her sleep as their blissful moment was interrupted by a bell chiming through the house. She grabbed a pillow and smushed it over her head hitting him in the face in the process. “We should’ve eloped.”

           “My love, you know as well as I do, our dear friends would’ve hunted us down like prey and dragged us before an altar by the ears. And honestly – I would help them with that.”

           When they had rolled out the announcement of their engagement, Astarion’s mother helping them write beautiful little cards to send to their party most had actually shown up to congratulate them in person.

           Karlach had been the first one to arrive, banging on the door to let her in, seemingly bursting with excitement. “If my engine wasn’t fixed, I think I would have levelled a whole block when I got the card!” She jumped up and down as she smothered them in a hug.

           The second the Tiefling reluctantly released Y/N and Astarion from her grasp, Shadowheart appeared, a bit more subdued in the way she showed her happiness, but still very much so thrilled. She’d even brought along a bottle of wine, as such an event had to be celebrated.

           Gale along with Tara teleported right into the living from straight from Waterdeep, a chest of tomes with him, a gift for the library Astarion wanted.

           “I even cancelled today’s lectures, and my students were so delighted, they also got you something.” He extended a smaller box, a gorgeous set of feather pens inside. “A thanks for the day off and congratulations on the engagement.”

           Wyll, now Grand Duke, joined the festivities right as the sun started its descent.

           “I would’ve come sooner, but duties call.”

           “Ever the honourable man.” Astarion hugged the once Blade of Frontiers. “I’m lucky Y/N doesn’t care much for honour, otherwise I would be fighting a losing battle.”

           “It’s all the blood loss,” she chimed in, hugging Wyll as he congratulated her. “Questionable decisions are not uncommon when oxygen is depleted in the blood.”

           Her vampiric love pointed a finger at her. “Well, there are no takebacks, so deal with it.”

           Oh, how far he’d come such jokes didn’t sting, and instead he could laugh at them because he knew she wouldn’t leave him. It was certainly not something he ever had to fear.

           Halsin and Lae’Zel were last to join Dalyria accompanying them as the night settled, completing their little group.

           They spent hours drinking and laughing, enjoying red drinks, some wine, and some other ethically sourced, of course, substances as they lounged by the fireplace.

           “So, when will the actual wedding be?” Gale asked as he stretched over a loveseat, Tara having claimed his lap as a napping spot, her purrs echoing through the room. “I would be more than happy, and well, my students most definitely, to cancel the exams for it. Such an affair cannot be missed. Two heroes of Baldur’s Gate wedding each other.”

           Wyll pointed a finger at the wizard. “You know, you are onto something. I might just have to make it a day of celebration in the city!”

           “Actually…” Y/N shifted next to Astarion. “We were thinking of just going to a magistrate and signing the papers as soon as possible. Nothing grand really.”

           A stunned silence settled before Dalyria snapped her gaze toward her brother. “You must be joking,” she deadpanned. “Astarion, I think you might need to lay off feeding from her for a while.”

           “Y/N was thinking that,” he rolled his eyes at the outburst. “I disagree.” Turning on his best pout, the vampire glanced at the woman pressed to his side. “You would so willingly deprive me of seeing you in a wedding dress like it isn’t the most important day of our lives. I, for one, wish for this to be my only wedding, yet you break my heart into pieces with your words.”

           Lae’Zel let out her signature “t’chk” of disapproval at Y/N’s amused huff. “I cannot believe I am saying this, but the spawns are right. A ceremony must be held. None of this magistrate nonsense, but a real, proper ceremony.”

           “You all just want a party.” The Y/H/C-haired woman crossed her arms over her chest.

           Halsin boomed a chuckle. “Well, we will not say no to the one a wedding comes with. But if you do not wish to have your dearest companions, people who love you most in the world, to be next to you on such an important day, that is completely dine. It is your wedding after all.”

           “Oh, come on!” Y/N threw her hands up with a laugh. “That is so unfair! I mean, I just don’t care for the pageantry of it all.”

           “Sweetheart, you are marrying the most pompous man to walk this earth. No offense, Astarion.” Shadowheart looked at the elf, but he simply shrugged, as it was true. “And you mean to tell me there will be no grand display of love?”

           Her lover nodded at the cleric’s words, batting his lashes at Y/N. “Besides, would you truly be so cruel, that you’d deny my parents such a day? After everything they’ve gone through.”

           “Alright, now you’re just blatantly blackmailing me.” She gave him a humour-filled look.

           Astarion put a hand on his chest in mock outrage. “Blackmail my darling intended? I would never! However, if I were, I would also mention that the ring on your finger did belong to my mother, who so lovingly passed it onto you, saying she wished for you to wear it when she saw you next. You know, just a little information, to tug on your heartstrings.”

           And tug at her heartstrings it did, as Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes widened, no doubt mind whirling from the statement.

           “This is your mother’s ring?” She looked down at the piece of jewellery like it was the most precious thing in the world. “You didn’t tell me that.”

           He didn’t intend for her to cry, but he wiped at her cheeks as a couple of tears rolled down her face. “She gave it to me the night we went to see my parents for the first time. I was already preparing to do it, but it just gave me the final push I needed to actually ask you. Even though I technically never did ask.” Astarion nudged her side, and Y/N snorted, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

           “Wait, hold on.” Dal leaned forward, a scrutinous gaze turned towards the elf. “What do you mean he never asked the bloody question? First no wedding, now no proper proposal?”

           Karlach though seemed to have other more pressing thoughts in her head. “Holy shit, Fangs, you robbed your mother’s grave!? I mean that is messed up even for you!”

           “Rewind.” Gale swirled a finger in the air. “You have a mother?”

           All these questions and statements were said one over the other as the room exploded into a full-blown interrogation, everyone flinging queries their way. It took Astarion and Y/N about an hour to respond and tell the full story, but not before they stopped laughing.

           At that moment though, Astarion clad in his silk pyjama set, the face greeting him was so full of delight, Karalch shone brighter than the set sun.

           “I feel like I could just burst!” The tiefling hugged him, and he responded in kind. It’d become one of his favourite physical ways to show and receive affection. “But where is the wife-to-be herself?”

           “Still in bed. You know Y/N and mornings, well, nights I guess, do not mix.”

           “Ah, yes,” a male voice agreed and Karlach stepped aside to allow Wyll to enter. “You know, there were moments during our adventure when I genuinely thought our fearless leader would be the one to end us. Remember that time Gale woke her up before dawn because he needed an artefact to consume? His poor eyebrows.” The Grand Duke shook his head. “Honestly thought it might’ve very well have been the last moments of our dear wizard.”

           “And yet, it wasn’t!” As if summoned, the Wizard of Waterdeep himself poofed into existence in the foyer. “I live to see yet another day where I can bless my friends with my presence. Eyebrows intact this time.”

           Astarion couldn’t control the eye roll as it was almost reflexive when it came to Professor Gale Dekarios, but he couldn’t deny the happiness rushing through his veins seeing the man. If he ever saw Mystra in the mortal plane, she’d better start praying to a god herself, for what he put his friend through.

           “It was… quite the look, I have to say,” Lae’Zel commented as she entered the house, joining their group. It seemed like they had a tendency to appear in the same places at the same time even without scheduling such a thing. “But do not attempt to upstage the bride, Gale. Astarion will already be doing his best. Though if these are your chosen clothes,” she gave him a onceover. “I believe Y/N has absolutely nothing to be concerned about.”

           Astarion scoffed. “This is handwoven silk.”

           “That is poor excuse for wedding attire.” Shadowheart appeared behind them all. “For once we agree, Lae’Zel, so enough with the chitchatting. A wedding needs to happen, and you need to get dressed.”

           The only reason he’d decided to put on some clothes was because the thought of his parents walking in on him naked, was enough to pull out all the stashed winter attire and cover himself up so much nothing but his nose would be showing. Now though, Astarion almost wanted to rip them off just to spite the gathered crowd but abstained.

           Before he did scamper off, he showed where they could go and mingle while he checked on the final details, especially how the ballroom was looking, and he had to admit, the drow in charge of decorations had turned it into something from a fairy tale.

           The room had high windows, all the shutters open to let in the pale light of the moon garlands hanging from the ceiling and walls, the many mirrors on the sides, giving an effect that the room was larger than it truly was, creating an illiusion of a forest inside their home. At the very end between two columns of chairs was the altar where Shadowheart would officiate, two golden cups already placed on a velvet pillow.

           There was hired staff in the gardens where food and drinks were being handed out.

           Astarion took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out. Everything was going to be just fine. He had promised as much to Y/N. This nervousness had been one of the reasons he’d wanted to take on the whole wedding affair onto himself.

           “I don’t want you to lift a single finger.” Astarion had brushed his nose against Y/N’s cheek after it was settled a full-blown wedding was happening and their friends had dispersed, leaving the two lovebirds on their own. “Just leave it all to me.”

           “I mean, I can’t do that,” she exasperated. “It’s our day. We both should be involved. I won’t put such an event all on your shoulders.”

           “But I want you to! Listen to me – me getting to order others around as they have to bend our every wish and whim, while all you have to do is nod for yes, and shake your head for no – sounds like a great time to me.”

           “Sounds very unfair to you.” Y/N was still sceptical frowning hard at Astarion’s proposition.

           “Look,” he sighed, taking her hand in his. “Let me do this for you. For us. You saved me back when I thought I was beyond it. I fully believed I was relegated to nothing but a life of pain and darkness and then… you showed up. You helped me through so many horrors, held me when it felt like the walls were pressing in… I would not have been able to do so without you. So please… let me make this day something you can enjoy and not have to worry about. I am very convincing when I set my eyes on something I want.”

           And when he pulled his puppy dog eyes on her, Astairon knew he had her right where he wanted. Y/N could never resist him when his eyes got all soft and round. He could practically see her resolve melting then and there like fresh-fallen snow.

           “Alright,” she conceded, and with a passionate kiss against her lips, he pulled her to sit in his lap. “But if it becomes too much, you have to promise to ask me for help.”

           “I swear it.” Astarion pecked her lips once more, and though he had no intentions of letting her lift a finger, he was truthful when making such a vow. With Y/N, he’d learned it wasn’t a crime or sign of weakness to request aid.

           He left the door open, surely more guests would be arriving, but before he could disappear, two more frames rushed up the steps, his mother and father practically beaming with pride as they saw him.

           “I think your druid friend is also on the way,” his mother said, pressing a light kiss to Astarion’s cheek and pulling him in for a hug. “But he stopped to pet a flock of sheep along the way.”

           The vampire snorted. “Well, we can only hope Halsin actually arrives for the ceremony on time. Or doesn’t bring the lambs as guests… appetizers though.”

           She gave him an amused smile, before squeezing his hand. “I’ll just go and say hello to that wizard of yours. I think I saw him walking somewhere in the gardens and then I’ll be right up with Y/N. Has the sleeping beauty awoken yet?”

           “Yes,” he mumbled, frowning. It was a well-known fact his love was a notorious sleepyhead, but that was not his reason for watching with a grimace how his mother practically skipped to the terrace in search of Gale.

“How does she know him?” he directed the question at the male elf standing beside him.

His father sighed, looking at his wife as she disappeared behind the corner, but not before she made sure she looked good, fluffing up her hair in the mirror before the grand entrance to their house. “She’s been quite obsessed with his cookbook. Just be glad she didn’t bring it along for an autograph. But enough of that. You need to get dressed, my Star. The moon is almost nigh.”

All other thoughts vanished from Astarion’s head as he noted how the white orb was pretty much at its peak, and the notion of getting married suddenly became a tangible thing. In just a few hours, under the pale light, he would vow to protect and cherish Y/N, they’d fill one another’s cups and drink, before tying strands of magical gold around one another’s fingers as a symbol of their unity in the ancient elven traditions. Astarion was about to become a husband with Y/N as his wife. If his heart had still beaten, it would’ve been jumping out of his chest.

“Did you feel like this as well when you married Mother?” the vampire’s hand shook as he entered the sowing room he’d claimed as his dressing room for the day. A naked mannequin stood at the corner. It’d born Y/N’s dress which was now surely being slid onto her frame, perfectly fitting against her body, and it was just another reminder of what was to come.

His father closed the door, going over to a suit that was hanging on another mannequin and slipped it off, laying it gently onto a settee. “Like what, Star?”

“Like unless in twenty seconds this whole thing is over, you’ll pass out.”

The deep chuckle the older elf let out was like a reassuring hug, somewhat calming Astarion. “Yes. Very much so. Add onto that wanting to throw up and black spots across my vision, I was pretty much hopeless. But then I was by the altar waiting for your mother, and when she appeared… nothing else mattered. It’s just the waiting that’s horrible.”

“Gods, maybe Y/N was right,” Astarion breathed out, sitting down by his tailoring table, head in his hands. “We should have definitely eloped. I mean it’s not normal to feel this way, is it?”

“Dear Star, it might have taken us two hundred years to find you, and we’ve only been lucky enough to have you back for two, but make no mistake,” his father deadpanned. “Your mother is not above murder and physical restraint if needed.”

“Yes, I know, you kidnapped my bride,” Astarion said. “But, I mean, what if it’s not perfect?” He looked at the elf. Blue reassuring eyes stared back, but even the conviction he saw in them couldn’t quench the lingering fear. “What if she isn’t there? What if I’m left a fool standing by the altar and she does not come?”

Those last words were barely a whisper, shame running through his veins as he said them, but it had been something plaguing his nightmares for weeks on end – Y/N finally realising she deserved so much better and leaving him heartbroken.

When he awoke in a cold sweat and she asked what was wrong, Astarion wrote it off as having a bad dream about Cazador. In truth, he hadn’t dreamt of his master in a long time, his only fear being Y/N tossing him to the side for something better.

           “Astarion,” his father said sternly, but not unkindly. “That woman has walked through literal hells for you. And taken on a devil, as you yourself have told us. I highly doubt now would be the moment she gets cold feet.”

           Deep down in his heart, he knew the words rang true. Astarion remembered after having killed Cazador, how strongly the urge to Ascend took over. Such power right at the tips of his fingers, yet at the cost of seven thousand souls. But at that moment, he was willing to pay it. He’d never have to be afraid of anything anymore if he finished the ritual. All he needed was for someone to copy the runes on his back. He’d turned to Y/N, someone who he knew supported him, but to his shock, she refused.

           Fury took him over. He’d thrown insults so vile it made bile rise in his throat nowadays when thinking back on it. Words wishing her a painful and slow demise, telling her he hoped she died screaming. Astarion had expected her to leave, yet as his mind had cleared, processing the grief and agony he was going through, she was there by his side.

           Even though he didn’t deserve it, Y/N held him as he cried, and whispered comforting words when he could do nothing but slump over himself in physical and emotional exhaustion. She was there for him like an unmovable rock, that not even time or tide could erode.

           “I’m sorry,” Astarion had begged that night for her forgiveness while she cradled him in her arms. “I’m sorry for what I said. I was – I was blinded by the power. By what I could be, what I could do… I – reality was no longer visible to me. And I’m sorry.”

           “I know you are.” Y/N’s kiss was a balm to his wounds, especially those that no one else but her could see or soothe. “And I forgive you.”

           Astarion’s father put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him out of the reminiscing. “She will be there because if there is one thing in this world I don’t doubt, it’s her love for you.”

           He wrapped that thought around his heart. She would be there. Y/N would always be there for him. But first, he had to be the one to await her, so with his father’s help, he stood up and got ready.         

           After a year of getting reacquainted with his parents, he’d told them some of what Cazador had done. With Y/N holding his hand through it, he even felt brave enough to show his scars. There were a lot of tears and hugging, and much to his surprise, talks of resurrecting the vampire lord by his mother, just so she could drive a stake through his heart. And Y/N was very eager to agree.

           His love had a vicious glint in her eye, and Astarion had to swallow his arousal as she leaned closer over the table where they’d been drinking afternoon tea and said, “I know how to skin a man and keep him alive the whole time.”

           “Yes!” His mother accepted the idea immediately. “Let’s do that! My Star, how do we contact that Withers friend of yours?”

           Honestly, the fact that Astarion was the one trying to quench their bloodlust and be the peacekeeper, for a moment, made him think he’d been thrown into some different universe. That was not how he expected the conversation over some tea and biscuits to go.

           His father smoothed down the back of the white linen shirt and Astarion tucked it into the white trousers while the older elf helped with the cuffs, onyx squares glinting in the warm light of the candelabras. Looking down, he surveyed the intricate frock he’d slaved over days and nights.

           It was matching a ivory to that of Y/N’s dress, the chest decorated with weavings of golden threads, much like what he’d sown across the bodice and through the hemlines of her gown. Astarion smiled, a gentle finger skimming over his work, knowing what the scribbles meant.

           To the unknowing, it looked nothing more than a pattern of leaves and flowers, but to those who could read ancient elvish, the truth was laid bare. The idea had struck him late one night as he’d sketched Y/N’s dress. With the help of his parents, as his memory of what once used to be his mother tongue was not so good, he stitched into the fabric little love confessions.

           Throughout her wedding attire, he’d sown the words of his undying love, of what she meant to him, and on his own jacket, he’d sown the promises he intended to keep as a husband, to always make sure she was safe and loved.

           By the time he was tying the cravat, Astarion’s knees were shaking, and his father had to take over, tucking in the piece of cloth by his chest.

           The vampire ran a quivering hand through his white hair. “So?” Gods, even his voice was trembling. How was he supposed to say his vows and not sound like a growing youth whose voice was on the verge of breaking? “How do I look?”

           For a moment, his father didn’t say anything, just smoothed down the fabric over his shoulders. “Like a man ready to start the best chapter of his life.”

           “Good.” Astarion nodded. “Because now I’m feeling that nausea you talked about.”

           The older elf let out a warm laugh before nudging his chin towards the open window and when he looked over, he saw the moon shining bright in the sky, a smattering of millions of stars behind it. “It’s time, Star.”

           With a shaky breath, Astarion nodded. He was ready. As long as he remembered how to move his mouth and say words, nothing could go wrong.

           As he walked back towards the foyer, gentle music greeted him, meaning the string quartet of bards had arrived and their family and friends were filtering into the ballroom.

           It was as if he was floating, barely being able to acknowledge the gathered people. Some patted him on the back, some asked if he was excited, and all of his responses were like through a haze, especially as he took his place by the altar.

           Shadowheart was already there, giving him an encouraging smile.

           “Don’t you clean up nice.”

           Astarion wanted to give some sort of a sarcastic quip, but all he could manage was a hum of acknowledgement. He was really truly, nervous. The breath entering his lungs was shaky and came out the same way. He didn’t even need to breathe, but if he didn’t, he might just pass out.

           “If it’s any consolation, Y/N is calm as a cucumber,” the cleric said. “Or maybe she’s just a better actress than you.”

            The vampire’s pale brows scrunched, as he looked at the woman. She just shrugged.

           “She said she knows you’ll be here. What more is there for her to want or be afraid of?”

           And that trust, the belief Y/N had in Astarion, settled something in his heart, and when his parents entered, taking their seats in the front row, both elves beaming, all that fear disappeared like mist in the morning.

           Beautiful music swirled around them, and all of the guests stood.

           The whole world stopped turning the second he laid his eyes on Y/N.

           Her body was clad in the white gown he’d poured all his love and care into, the gold thread shimmering in the candle and moonlight. Her hair was free as she always preferred, but small, intricate braids inlaid with diamonds as if rain had settled atop her head, a flower crown gracing the top of it. Y/N’s skin was also covered in a shimmery powder, that made her absolutely glow, as if from within, and the Y/E/C eyes he loved to get lost in, were lined with kohl giving her gaze an intense look. Had it not been for her rounded ears, Y/N would be the epitome of a true elven queen.

           Astarion released a breath that’d gotten stuck in his chest and tears welled in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks.

           He’d been lucky, especially in these past few years where he’d been able to witness a lot of beautiful things. But nothing was as beautiful as her walking toward him.

           Y/N’s head was high, as her gaze bore into his – his scarlet not looking away from her Y/E/C ones – her lips pulled in the widest smile he’d ever seen on her face.

           Gods, she was beautiful, and his ego also revelled in how that grin was directed at him. At only him. It seemed like it took her ages, but at the same time not even a couple of seconds to be standing before him, handing off her bouquet of lilies of the valley to his mother and placing her palms in Astarion’s awaiting ones.

           He couldn’t take his eyes off Y/N, but she couldn’t take hers off him. Vaguely he heard Shadowheart offer blessings and words of wisdom for the new couple as they started their joined lives. Astarion only snapped back to reality when it was time for him to take the golden thread and tie it around her finger, an ancient elven tradition – instead of simply exchanging rings, one would take a twine of gold and imbue it with the power of their words, before the vows were sealed.

           No longer did his hands shake, and his voice didn’t crack once as he said his vows, as he gently twisted the twine and looped it back around where it moulded together by magic on their own, creating a gorgeous ring.

           Then it was Y/N’s turn.

           “I vow to protect your life as my own,” her voice was soft and steady as she spoke. “I vow to walk the dark paths and lead you to the light when needed. I promise to be your reassurance when doubts come, and I promise to love you until the stars no longer shine.”

           Astarion didn’t care as more tears slid down his cheeks and wetted the neckline of his frock when finally, the golden thread connected and solidified itself on his ringfinger.

           He was married. He didn’t care that Shadowheart hadn’t said yet he could kiss his new wife, that they needed to drink the blessed wine from the cups, as he surged forward, taking Y/N by the wrist and smashing their lips together. From somewhere afar he heard whoops and cheers, and a “you could’ve waited for just a second more,” but it was all background noise with no meaning as his love’s palm slid to cup his jaw and pull him in for a deeper kiss.

           All the nerves had been worth it. All the pain and suffering he’d gone through – it was all worth it just for that moment alone, when Y/N had to press him back a bit, a breathless laugh escaping her lips as she took in greedy gulps of air, but put her forehead against his, not straying far from his touch.

           “I love you, husband.”

           His cheeks hurt from so much smiling. “I love you, wife.”

           They didn’t get to stay in the small bubble for long as people were stepping up, congratulating them, and pulling them in embraces from left to right.

           The revelry slowly moved outside where drinks and food flowed without stopping. Slow melodies turned into fast foot-stomping beats, as people twirled and danced, celebrating the union between two of Baldur’s Gate’s heroes.

           It was during a moment of reprieve when Y/N was chugging down glass after glass of water and champagne, Astarion following suit with some blood, when his parents came up to them, a small, yet intricate box in their hands.

           The frame was of old oak, no doubt, scuffed at the edges and corners, while the top of it was engraved with a whole flora and fauna piece, but that didn’t matter. He’d said them being at the ceremony would be enough of a gift and that him and Y/N didn’t need anything, yet here the two elves were.

           “Don’t even start, my Star,” his mother interrupted Astarion’s rant before he could even go on one. “There was no way we would’ve come empty-handed to your wedding. Besides, we think this might be of great interest to you two. And of use”

           Gently, as if the box might crumble if touched any harder, the older elf opened it. Inside, laid on green velvet sat two golden bracelets, their visage moulded like wreaths of leaves and budding flowers.

           They were handmade, that was certain, and ancient if his eye for jewels and jewellery didn’t deceive him. And it rarely did. But the oddest bit was the sensation it radiated as if it was imbued by vibrating energy, barely contained in the circlets.

           “Could it really be – but no. That is only a legend,” Halsin’s and Gale’s eyes were wide as they beheld what lay in the box as the two had snuck up on the group and shadowed behind them. The druid gave Astarion’s parents a bewildered gaze. “How in the worlds did you come by this?”

           “Let’s just say, you are not the only ones with connections.” His father threw Halsin a mischievous smile, but Astarion didn’t like that.

           “And the cost for such a thing?”

           His mother smiled. “My dear, you talk like your skill of words and stealing didn’t come from somewhere. We might be old, but that doesn’t mean we cannot have adventures of our own.”

              “I’m sorry for interrupting this moment,” Gale said, “but can we get back to the fact you have the True Love’s Curse sitting in that box.”

           “The what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed, but no one bothered to answer as Gale went on.

           “I can feel the magic.” The wizard laid a reverent palm above the bracelets but didn’t touch them. “The Weave… I’ve never felt something so strong. As if it could change the matter of the cosmos around us at any second.”

           Astarion lifted a finger, just as confused as his love, pointing at the bracelets. “What exactly is this curse? And, I do apologise, mother, as we appreciate everything you've done for us, but why in the worlds did you think a curse would be a great gift?”

           “True Love’s Curse is simply the name,” Halsin said. “It’s an old elven legend of two lovers – one forever meant to walk the dark, the other meant for light. In the myth, they are so convinced they are soulmates and meant to be, they create two bracelets, symbols for their loves, imbued with a mirroring spell, but not just any average enchantment. It gives the nightwalker the ability to walk in the sun, but there is a cost – if the other person is no true love, no soulmate, the nightwalker will succumb to the rays and perish forever.”

           Y/N grimaced. “Seems quite harsh. And unfair.”

           Astarion’s father closed the box. “It’s why it’s called True Love’s Curse. But if there is anything we all can learn from you two, is that love conquers all.”

           Hope ignited in the vampire’s chest, as he accepted the box.

           Could there really be a chance he would be able to live his life with Y/N by his side, and also live it in the sun?

           He used to be scared of what the future held for him, especially what the future with Y/N would be like. He’d had his doubts – that she probably didn’t actually love him. How she was with him only for pity or to use his body like so many others had before – but those no longer existed. She’d meticulously shattered every single brick of the wall that was his mistrust and built a castle of love in his heart. If what Astarion’s parents said was true, he had nothing to worry about – Y/N had been ready to walk her life in darkness with him and not asked anything in return apart from his devotion.

           But he pushed the thoughts of the bracelets, of the True Love’s Curse, to the side as he was pulled in a dance by Dalyria, then her girlfriend, and at some point, even Lae’Zel allowed him to lead her in a slow waltz before once again returning to Y/N’s side. His rightful place

           His arms wove around her waist, while her cheek leaned to rest against his chest. She sighed, closing her eyes.

           Astarion pressed a kiss to Y/N’s head. “I don’t know what I might have done in a previous life, but whatever it was, it had to be something exceedingly good for me to end up with you.”

           She hummed in contentment. “You deserve all that is kind in this world, my love. I am the least of it.”

           He wanted to argue, to tell her she was his whole world, but instead, he closed his eyes too and smiled, relishing in the love. He did deserve good. He deserved all that was kind. It was time Astarion finally embraced it, and if that was Y/N in his arms, he would hold on a bit tighter then.

Hours later they stood alone by the cliffside, a slight breeze ruffling their hair as they waited for the sun to fully rise, the gardens empty, their house as well, as the wedding party had ended, leaving people satiated and tipsy on their way home.

           “What if it doesn’t work?” Astarion asked. “What if they were wrong?”

           “Then I have the cloak right here, and all the shutters have already been closed at the house.” She took his hand in hers, the bracelet clicking against his.

           She didn’t try to convince him, give him false hope of how it would work, because not everything in life did. Not everything was perfect and not everything was supposed to be perfect. Of course, he would be devastated, if the True Love’s Curse was not real. But Astarion also knew he’d never be alone in it. He’d have Y/N by his side, as he always had. She wasn’t going anywhere and that was enough.

           As the sun rose, the sky turning from a deep blue to pink, then orange and red, Astarion took in a deep breath. Then – on the first day as a married man – the first rays of a new day touched him for the first time in four years.

           A tear rolled down his face, scarlet eyes not daring to stray away from the stunning view that was the dawn and greeted the sun like a long-lost friend.

           Y/N gave him the widest smile ever, a match to the one she’d sported when seeing him by the altar. “Where to first, my love? We have the whole world for the taking.”

           He looked at her, cupping her face. “First, to home. And then – to the very edge of the universe.”

Tags:

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: I've re-written this whole thing like 3 different times because I just couldn’t get it right, but now I feel like this is how it's meant to be :) I do have like extra 8k words of stuff I might release as smaller fics set around these two specific versions of the characters. Let me know if you'd like that or want to be tagged in future fics :)

I might edit this at some point a bit more. English is not my first language, so I need time to step away, before I can see additional mistakes.

Please don't repost on other platforms without specific written consent! That is called plagiarism

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hi hi! I have a req- can you maybe please write a Megumi x reader where they get lost in a haunted house and the reader is too scared to move and Megumi helps her (as a stranger) and then it goes more from that ?

I fell in love with this immediately and needed to write that wonderful request of yours! Thank you so much darling, I'm crossing my fingers you like what I came up with 😭

Getting lost at a haunted house only to be saved by Megumi

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: After your friends dragged you into a tunnel of terror at an amusement park despite your irrational fear of creepy stuff, you find yourself lost in your own panic. Until a sudden blue-eyed boy appears and helps you out...

Warnings: your friends are shitty, Megumi is a sweetheart, reader is obviously scared of creepy stuff lol

„This is probably the worst thing you ever made me do”, Megumi mutters, annoyed by the sheer sight in front of him.

When Gojo-sensei told them about a day off, he certainly didn’t see himself going to an amusement park with Itadori and Kugisaki. He should have stayed back, he could have read the new book he just bought, enjoying the silence of empty Jujutsu High while the others were out doing whatever they want. But instead, he finds himself surrounded by crying children with their hands covered in sweets, people bumping into him with every step he takes.

What on earth is he doing here?

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Fushiguro. How about going out and having some fun instead of making it your mission to look as if somebody killed your puppy? Geez.”

“Look, a haunted house!”, Yuji cries out, his eyes glossy from sheer excitement.

“Oh, I wanna go in!”

“I don’t wanna go in”, you protest while your friends literally drag you after themselves.

To be honest, the thought of going into a haunted house alone makes you want to leave immediately. If there’s one thing you hate, it’s creepy stuff. No matter if it’s as innocent as Halloween or things like horror films based on a true story. There is nothing worse than getting jump scared, feeling as if your heart will stop beating any minute, cold sweat running down your neck. No, there is absolutely no way in hell you will step one foot into this cursed place, you’ll just wait here and get some ice cream, you’ll-

“I really don’t wanna do this”, you whine into pitch-black darkness, heavy creepy music making you feel sick in an instant.

Your heartbeat hammers against your already aching chest, palm getting so sweaty that you are unable to hold onto the hand of your friend any longer.

“Hey, where are you? I-I think I lost you guys!”

No response, no sign of life. Just you, the darkness around you and your own blood rushing through your ears.

Fuck, you can’t do this alone. Where is the emergency exit when you need it? Is there somebody else around you?

“H-hello?”

No response, no sign of life.

Panic starts to rise in your chest, disturbing screams, violent laughter and creepy music drowning your head in nothing but thick fear. You need to get out of here as fast as possible.

Your wobbly feet carry you down the dark hallway. But instead of being able to simply sprint through the tunnel of horror, you are greeted by a never-ending hallway that is that is filled with macabre clowns decorating each and every centimetre around you. There aren’t many things that scare you more than strange dolls that look like Annabell herself, but clowns…You hated them since you were a child, no matter how friendly they looked.

And these ones definitely don’t.

“Are you lost, little one?”

That voice is close, too close for your liking. You rest your eyes for a second, pretend that this deep voice that shook you to your core isn’t really there. No, this must be part of the music, a stupid joke-

“I am still here.”

Something touches your arm. Out of instinct, you widen your glossy eyes, staring straight into the maniac grin of a clown.

A real clown.

Not just a doll.

Your body react on its own, a violent shriek escaping your lips.

Run.

As fast as you can, past the clown decorating the wall, straight into nothing but darkness while this little voice inside your head can’t stop laughing about your pathetic self. How old are you? 10?

It doesn’t matter. Your frightened eyes are darted fowards, adrenaline pumping through your veins while all you can think about is stepping through that door, getting out of this living nightmare as soon as possible. You just need to push yourself a little harder, get through this dark hallway right in front of you and it will be over, you are almost there-

You see stars. Before you are even process what happens, you bump into something hard and fall straight onto the floor with your head spinning in confusion. Was is a wall, a door? No, the dim light shows you the outline of a person. Your guts turn in an instant, the horrifying face of that clown you saw seconds ago still haunting your mind. Please, not another one of these actors.

It stretches out his hand, ready to grab you.

“NO!”, you scream on top of your lungs, crawling backwards in a desperate attempt to escape those fingertips.

Megumi can’t help but stare at your puny figure in sheer disbelief. Why the hell are you so scared? And why are you here on your own? Your thick and heavy breaths hang in the air between you both, distracting him from his mission to find a way out of here after Itadori and Kugisaki ran away like some 4-year old kids.

“Calm down, I’m just trying to find my way out of here”, he calmly announces.

You blink against the darkness around you, too stunned to say a single word. That is definitely a boy with a voice that could calm down entire oceans, making your heartbeat tame down in an instant.

“Let me help you up, okay? Give me your hand.”

There it is, his big hand stretched out in front of you. Like in trance you take it, palms still covered in cold sweat when he lifts you off the ground with ease. In the dim light you aren’t able to see anything but the outline of his features, his tall and actually quite muscular frame.

“We’ll get out of here together, just don’t let go of my-“

In the matter of seconds, your whole body clings onto his arm for what feels like dear life, nails digging into his firm biceps without mercy. He can’t leave you alone here like your friends did, there is absolutely no way in hell you’ll let go of this boy.

Much to Megumi’s fortune, the room is so dark that you can’t tell the deep blush creeping up his face. You’re a girl with a voice sounding so angelic that it caught him off guard, with your breast pressed against his arm-

Oh god.

“Let’s go”, he mumbles.

He forces himself to stare in front of him, to not risk a look at you while tumbling down the dark hallway with you by his side. But the second he opens the next door filled with red lights, his gaze wanders to his left side, gets greeted by your doe eyes immediately.

Time stands still, Megumi’s heart pounding as hard as yours when all he does is staring at your way too gorgeous but frightened features. You have to be around his age, even though it’s hard to tell in that strange light. But oh your face definitely matches your angelic voice.

“Thank you for not leaving me alone”, you mumble against his arm, eyes directed towards the next door ahead of you.

“There’s no need to thank me. How did you end up in here anyway if you are this scared?”

“My friends forced me and left me after the first door on my own.”

Megumi huffs in response. Well, that definitely sounds way too familiar. When he sees these two idiots again…

“But aren’t they aware of the fact that you’re scared?”

“Everyone is. But I guess they just thought it would be funny…”

“It’s not”, Megumi replies in an instant.

“You don’t deserve this. It might not make sense to them, but you are stressed. And no friend should want to see you like this for their own amusement.”

You swallow hard, still holding onto his arm tightly. Of course you know that he’s right, that your “friends” aren’t suppose to treat you this way. But you’d never say it out loud, would never confront them.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

His voice catches your attention just before you start to panic over another set of creepy dolls laughing in the corner, his arm moving you closer to him.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

When you gaze up at him again, his world stops spinning for a minute. You really seem to trust him, your hands still intertwined with his arm, your body firmly pressed against his side. You look so lovely, seem like such a nice person. It becomes more and more personal to get you out of here.

“I’m sure we are close to the exit. Focus on me, okay?”

“My name is (y/n)”, you suddenly blurt out.

“I’m Megumi Fushiguro. Nice to meet you (y/n).”

Out of his mouth, your name sounds so relaxing, so melodic. His calm voice really suits the ocean of his dark blue eyes that never break contact with yours even though he walks down the hallway with you by his side.

“I think this is the last door.”

With a swift motion, he opens it. Slowly but surely his features get light up by lantern light, the cries and screams from the amusement park ringing in your ears again. You take a look around you.

He really did it.

You made your way out of the tunnel of horror.

“Thank you so much for helping me out”, you mutter, pulling him into a tight hug before you are able to stop yourself.

What would have happened if he didn’t find you, if he didn’t keep a cool head and lead you through the right doors? You rest your head against his broad chest, heartbeat calming down completely. How lucky you are to have met him.

“Oh – uh…No problem at all”, he mutters.

Megumi has to tell himself over and over to keep a straight face, to not allow himself to turn redder than the devil himself. But you hold onto him so tightly, so thankful for nothing but the fact that he guided you out of a haunted house.

“Who’s that girl, Fushiguro?”

You let go of him immediately, eyes darting towards a girl with short brown hair coming your way while dragging a pink-haired boy behind her like a bag of trash.

“After you left me alone in there, I met (y/n) and she helped me finding a way out.”

“Nice to meet you (y/n)!”, the other boy greets you instantly, a kind grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have helped him, Fushiguro fits just right in a tunnel of horror”, the girl comments dryly.

“There you are! We thought the clowns already ate you up!”

Oh no, not now, not in front of him and his friends. You want to sprint away, to hide yourself from your “friends”. But instead, all you can do is stare blankly why both of them approach you with a toxic smile.

“Is this what you consider funny? Dragging (y/n) in there and leaving her alone even though you know she’s scared?”

Megumi’s body tenses up immediately as he positions himself between you and the other girls. They really have some nerves, approaching you like this after what they did. There is no way he’ll let them get away with that.

“Huh? Who the hell are you and why would you care?”

“Because I was scared as well and (y/n) helped me to find a way out.”

He glimpses at you for the split of a second. It’s more than crystal clear that he’s lying. You need to stand up for him, defend him, tell them the truth.

“Oh, you’re braver than I thought (y/n)”, one of them mutters.

“Yeah…Well…We see each other tomorrow, okay? Bye?”

And with that, they disappear into the evening, their awkward walk leaving you speechless for a second.

“Promise me you’ll never let them treat you like this again”, he finally speaks up again.

“I…I promise….”

“Can you just give her your number so that we’re able to grab something to eat? I’m starving”, the girl next to him complains.

“Yeah, I’m super hungry as well!”

“Can’t you just shut up for a minute?”, Megumi hisses under his breath.

“But…would you mind giving me your number?”

-Bonus-

"Megumi-chan!"

His steps quicken in an instant, carrying down the hallway of Jujutsu High at high tempo. If there's one thing he's not in the mood for right now, it's definetely Gojo-sensei. Itadori and Kugisaki probably told him ever little thing about you.

"There's no running for me. Tell me, who's the girl you've been with today?"

He can't help but roll his eyes, the wide grin on his teacher's face simply driving him insane.

"I just met her today", he mumbles in response.

"Don't forget to use protection, I don't wanna be a grand-"

"CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP"

 Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp@wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

Gorgeous dividers by @saradika-graphics

[cloudcountry]

Ok it says requests closed but I was gonna ask: what about Ritsu is so compelling to you? I find him rather bland and want to hear what about him makes you feel safe and loved? Why is he your favorite? INFODUMP me write all your interest I am listening with excitement :3

oh youre so good, this doesnt count as a request at all!! i actually needed a few days to gather my thoughts and make this semi-coherent. i also consulted my six pages of notes about this guy. yes im normal about him. yes.

RITSU SHINJO. there are a lot of things to love methinks. he can definitely come across as someone who is rude or stuck up, and dont get me wrong i totally did NOT fuck w his ass when i first met him. but he changed my mind really quickly.

i really appreciate how he stands up for what he believes in. like his ambitious nature is what really endeared me to him at first. he stares down barrels of guns and is like "okay, but youre going to listen to what i have to say" and honestly??? i was in awe. hes such a brave person and even if it may seem a lil stupid or outrageous sometimes it always works out in the end somehow.

hes also really smart??? like OBVI but like hold on. there are 264 ARTICLES in the japanese penal code. TWO HUNDRED SIXTY FOUR. and he STILL knows more laws on TOP of that. has them MEMORIZED no less!! hes well versed in the arts and his vocabulary is extensive as well. he can speak MULTIPLE LANGUAGES, including german, french, and italian. literally WHAT THE FUCK. hes so impressive??? this is some rich people shit T0T

his lil quirks are super cute too, like how he only drinks black coffee and has six handkerchiefs so his opponents dont see him sweat, or how he spends time watching opera to unwind after the day's events. his handwriting isnt the neatest and he gets SO butthurt about it. hes so unflappable usually but when insulted? its like we get to see the actual ritsu. its silly bc if you compliment him on his SKILLS hes like "oh its natural, ofc i did xyz" but i want to see how he reacts to being told he looks good. or someone noticing if he did something different w his hair, or wore different accessories, or got a new pen. just . someone noticing the little things about HIM, too.

HE FUCKIN SUCKS AT GAMBLING I LOVE HIMMMM also memorized card game rules after learning he'd be sorted into sinostra. he has so much book smartness but when you put him in front of people he fumbles HARD. like its so cute but also i worry about that bc he needs friends and i want him to make friends but i fear he doesnt think he needs them. what he lacks socially he makes up for in random ass trivia that no one needs to know ever.

hes so PREPARED. this is one of the main things that makes me feel so safe around him actually because hes thought of everything. and yk he doesnt even think its that big of a deal. he exchanges the currency so sinostra can have an inn to stay in for the night, he records everything for jabberwock to make sure he understands exactly what he needs to do for the animals, he covers all of his bases and takes notes about everyones behavior just in case in comes in handy.

uses his stigma for fuckass shit like busting down doors and not getting hurt by a rickety bus ride. uses his book to whack people over the head. regularly goes to the mystery diner and ignores ren's complaints about how he sits his ass down foreverrrr. romeo calls him a greenhorn and he blabs about how he obviously isn't. taiga calls him a dumbass and he starts screeching like a baby bird. hes always trying to reign in taiga while also encouraging his bullshit. has obvious favoritism for mc. protects her whenever he can and worries over her safety when she almost fuckin DIES. acknowledges that shes weaker than him, because hes a ghoul and thats just how it is, and actively takes steps to NOT ONLY PROTECT HER HIMSELF, but build up her confidence TOO.

literally i am convinced the way ritsu sees love is making the people you love the absolute best version of themselves, because thats what his parents did for him. so he tries to teach you what he knows, he RELIES on you to keep tabs on romeo or taiga (that is HUGE actually, considering he berates ren for his attitude and doesnt really seem to be close enoough with the other ghouls to rely on them for anything.)

let me say that again, ritsu views mc as an equal because hes placing the captain/vice captain in her hands and telling her to keep an eye on them, he calls HER when he's trying to meet up with everyone, he's actively treating her like a business partner where they will BOTH BENEFIT in more ways than just the curse lifting and winning the laurel crown--

ARGHHHH I LVOE RITSU SHINJO SO MUCH. you are a trooper if u read all of this can i just say .

THANK YOU FOR ASKING I LOVEEEE TALKING ABOUT HIM <3333

[blond3ang3l]

🌷♡₊˚geek lover! eren🦢・₊✧

———————————————————————

This is a remake of the already geek lover eren, but specifically a sfw version but I actually really love this story

———————————————————————

Eren is a geek lover. He absolutely is enamored with you. Watching your lips with every word you spoke. The way you got excited telling him about every single new detail of the things you got interested in. Eren worked hard as a famous rnb singer, long days in the studio trying to perfect his songs. Then having to perform when he literally had the WORST anxiety known to man. It always felt like someone needed him and was on his ass about something.

But he did it all for you. So you can have everything your heart desired. He left nothing behind when it came to you. You wanted to see a new sci fi movie? He already bought out the theater. There’s a new podcast you like? He’s downloaded all the episodes for you on both yours and his phone. Don’t even get started on books. On your first date you mentioned you like to read and study psychology in your free time. Once you moved in he had your very own book room built for you. Carefully picking out each book for you on his own. Your own desk and room for you todo your writings in. He even surprised you with a laptop and camera so you can start your own podcast! He just wanted to show you how much he loved and supported you.

For moment like this were he could come home and listen to you tell him. About the things you've watched in your huge list of video essays that you had in a playlist on YouTube. How you lit up telling him different facts from how the dating game killer had a coworker that also happened to be a serial killer and he didn't know to the conspiracy theory of the 27 club, no matter what you said it always made you so happy and seeing you all giddy and stimming while you talked to him made him so content with his life.

"I know cotards syndrome, Koro, Diogenes, fregoli, hypochondria, pica, capgras, boanthropy, apotenmophilia, kulver bulcy, ekbom, erotomania, Stendhal. Pics is like one of the more well known. You know that show my strange addiction that we watch together? Yeah so like those people who eat the random shit like the lady who ate rocks- omg that reminds me!"

You were sitting on his lap, yapping his ear off.His eyes couldn't help but wander to your legs which lead him to notice you were wearing his boxers. Your hands thick thighs were filling them out so well. His hands moved to grip them as he watched you talk. You’d kill him later for not listening but he just felt so much dread when he was away from you that he couldn’t help but just stare at you forever.

Erens ass was not listening one bit. He was watching you, watching your body. You guys had been apart for a little over a month so could do a very short tour in another country and he was sick as fuck that he couldn't bring you.Everyone knew it too. His attitude fucking sucked that trip. He was antsy, his anxiety was through the roof, he snapped at everyone, overall he fucking hated it. But now, sitting here with you he finally felt at peace.

“Rennie, papa are you okay? You’re getting all red. Are you feeling sick baby?”

You were worried, he had a bad history of getting sick easily. With him coming back from another country he could have likely caught something. It would hurt your heart to know he wasn’t feeling well.

“I’m fine baby. Keep going. I wanna hear you talk.”

“Are you sure baby? We can go lay down if you’d like.”

It warmed his heart how much you cared for him. You made him the man he was. He used to be so closed off to anyone that wasn’t your friends mikasa and armin. You taught him how to deal with the grief of life and got him therapy to get through the rough days of his depression. He just loved you so much and truly couldn’t imagine being anywhere without you.

“I’m fine baby, just missed you so much..”

For my girlie @merakidoll

[darkintothedawn]

DAY FIVE || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Day five of 'THE BOYFRIEND CODE'. A comic book store leads to a very eventful walk down the Marvel section consisting of 'betrayals' and 'ruined reputations' according to Stiles. Add in some fake fawning over superheroes and you've set Stiles off yet again.

5. Thou shalt not threaten to replace thy boyfriend with Derek Hale, Chris Evans, or any fictional hottie with a tragic backstory.

Memo— You can find the rest of the 'THE BOYFRIEND CODE' here.

Word Count — 6123

Warnings — Fluff. Lovingly annoying Stiles.

The bell above the comic book store door jingled softly as you and Stiles stepped inside, the sound accompanied by the low hum of conversation and the faint shuffle of pages turning. Warm air greeted you, carrying the unmistakable smell of ink and paper. The chill from outside seemed to evaporate instantly, and you sighed in relief, squeezing Stiles’ hand in gratitude for dragging you here in the first place.

Stiles didn’t let go of your hand. He had half a mind to—he really did. He needed both hands to properly browse, to pick through every single issue and find the absolute gems. But after yesterday? After you’d broken that rule and sent him spiralling into needy territory? There was no way he was risking you teasing him again. Not when his fingers were firmly laced with yours, grounding him in a way no comic ever could.

“This,” Stiles declared, spinning around to face you with a grin so bright it felt like it could power the store’s overhead lights, “Is heaven. Pure heaven. And you, my dear, are an angel for bringing me here.”

“You deserve it,” you said simply, letting him bask in the moment. His grin softened a little at that, turning from over-the-top theatrics into something real, something sweet.

Still holding your hand, Stiles tugged you toward a nearby shelf, his eyes already scanning the vibrant rows of covers. He was talking the whole time, his words tumbling out in an excited, rapid-fire stream.

“Okay, so this section is new releases. But if you go over there—see, right by the window?—that’s where they keep the trades. Oh, and if we’re lucky, they might even have the deluxe editions out—oh! Look at this!”

He stopped short, holding up a glossy new comic with a triumphant grin. “First issue of the new arc. Been waiting on this for months.”

His excitement was infectious, and you found yourself smiling even as he tucked the comic under his arm and kept scanning the shelves. He didn’t let go of your hand, even as he crouched down to examine a lower display, awkwardly leaning so he could flip through the stack while keeping you tethered to him.

“You’re really in your element here, huh?” you teased, watching him with amusement.

“This is sacred ground,” he replied, his tone mock-serious as he straightened up. “A place of worship, if you will. And today? Today is about giving thanks for all the amazing things in life. Like Batman. And—you know—our relationship.”

You snorted, nudging him lightly. “Nice save.”

Stiles smirked, tilting his head to one side as he looked at you. “You’re just jealous you don’t get this excited about anything.”

“Please,” you shot back. “I get this excited every time you trip over your own feet. Or try to slide across the hood of the Jeep and fall flat on your ass.”

He gasped, clutching the comic to his chest in offense. “How dare you. My Cool Car Slides™ are a work of art.”

“A disaster,” you corrected.

“Same thing,” he said, waving it off as he turned back to the shelf.

You let him have his moment, watching as his expression shifted from playful to focused. He’d started muttering to himself, half-formed thoughts and comic references spilling out as he sorted through the display. His excitement was so pure, so unfiltered, that it was impossible not to feel a little giddy yourself.

“You know,” you said after a moment, “If you need both hands to look, I can let go. I’ll just… wander around or something.”

Stiles froze mid-reach, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the intensity in his voice. “What?”

“Don’t wander,” he said firmly, his grip on your hand tightening. “You’re staying right here. Hand included.”

You raised an eyebrow, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Wow. Above the comics? I’m honoured.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he quipped, though the faint pink creeping up his neck gave him away.

You squeezed his hand, leaning closer as you dropped your voice to a teasing whisper. “You’re a little obsessed with me, huh?”

“Maybe,” he muttered, refusing to meet your eyes as he focused on the stack in front of him. “I mean, can you blame me? You’re the one who insisted on coming here after I destroyed Scott in that debate. Like, that’s a relationship flex if I’ve ever seen one.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously lucky,” he corrected, finally glancing at you with a grin that made your heart flutter.

Before you could respond, he held up another comic, his eyes lighting up as he inspected the cover. “Oh, man. Look at this. Do you see this? This is why we came here. This—” he paused, gesturing dramatically to the comic like it was a sacred artefact, “—is what peak happiness looks like.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth. “You’re such a nerd.”

“And yet, you’re still holding my hand,” he pointed out smugly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Let’s see if you’re still this charming when we leave and I make you carry all the comics.”

“Deal,” he said instantly, grinning as he tucked the latest find under his arm. “Anything for you, babe. Anything for you.”

Stiles was like a kid in a candy store, practically bouncing on his heels as he dragged you from shelf to shelf, rattling off tidbits about storylines, character arcs, and obscure bits of comic book trivia that only someone like Stiles could store in his already over-packed brain. He held onto your hand with the kind of firm grip that made it clear he had no intention of letting go—not even for his beloved comics. Somehow, he managed to flip through issues with one hand, gesturing wildly with the other as he talked, his excitement vibrating off of him in waves.

You couldn’t help but smile, letting yourself be tugged along. He was practically glowing, completely in his element, and you didn’t want to interrupt the pure joy radiating off him. That didn’t stop you from pressing a kiss to his cheek or jaw every chance you got, though.

The first time, he stuttered mid-sentence, glancing at you with wide, flustered eyes before recovering, though his ears turned pink. The second kiss made him stumble over his words completely. By the third, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him.

“Okay,” he said after the fourth kiss, his tone teasing as he tried—and failed—to sound stern. “I see what’s happening here.”

You feigned innocence, widening your eyes and tilting your head. “No idea what you’re talking about,” you said sweetly, giving his hand a squeeze and pulling him toward the next aisle before he could retaliate.

He muttered something under his breath about how you were lucky he loved you, but you caught the soft smile that lingered on his face as he let you lead him.

Then, you slowed, your attention snagging on a colourful display full of Marvel comics. Bold covers and larger-than-life characters stared back at you, and you tilted your head, considering them for a moment.

“Hey, do you know anything about these?” you asked, nodding toward the display.

Stiles froze mid-step like he’d been hit with a stun gun. His gaze darted from the Marvel section to you and back again, his brows furrowing in genuine internal conflict. For a moment, he just stood there, gripping your hand tighter as if he needed the support. You could practically see the gears in his head turning, his brain doing mental gymnastics to process your question.

On the one hand, he was Stiles Stilinski: Devout DC Fanboy. Loyal to Gotham City, the countless Robins, and every version of the Batmobile to ever grace a comic panel. Marvel was practically sacrilegious to him—the enemy.

On the other hand, you were asking him a question.

And Stiles would move mountains to impress you.

“Uh…” He cleared his throat, glancing at you like he needed to gauge how serious you were about this inquiry. “I mean… I might know a thing or two. I’ve, uh, come across some Marvel stuff. You know, casually. In passing. Just… for research purposes.”

You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth twitching as you fought back a grin. “Research purposes, huh?”

“Yes, research,” he said quickly, his voice gaining confidence as he fully committed to the bit. “I’ve read a few issues. Just to see what the competition is working with. Gotta stay informed, right?”

You hummed thoughtfully, glancing back at the display. “So… if I picked up one of these, you’d be able to explain it to me?”

His hand tightened around yours, and his eyes darted between you and the comics again, the internal conflict flaring up all over his face. “I mean, probably. Yeah. Totally. Some of this stuff is, uh, basic knowledge.” He nodded to himself like he needed to convince himself of his own words.

You smiled, leaning a little closer. “Good to know, Stilinski.”

He glanced at you, his chest puffing out slightly as he straightened up, clearly trying to act casual but failing miserably. “Yeah. No big deal. I’m, like, a comic expert. DC and Marvel. I’m multi-talented like that.”

You bit back a laugh, squeezing his hand again. “Multi-talented, huh? Impressive.”

His cheeks flushed, but he didn’t let go of your hand, even as he considered wandering deeper into enemy territory to prove his worth. It wasn’t lost on you how he hesitated for a split second, his fingers twitching like he was going to let go to dive into the display. But then he looked at you, and his priorities snapped back into place.

“Okay,” he said, nodding firmly. “Let’s do this. We’re diving into the Marvel universe. But for the record,” he added, pointing at the comics with his free hand, “I’m doing this for you, not because I’m a Marvel fan. Let’s get that straight.”

You grinned, letting him tug you toward the display. “Noted, DC fanboy.”

You browsed the Marvel section with quiet interest, your fingers brushing over the glossy covers as Stiles hovered at your side. He couldn’t help himself; every time your gaze lingered on a particular comic, he launched into an explanation about the characters, their backstories, and why a specific storyline either rocked or totally sucked. He gestured with his free hand, flipping through pages with an excitement that was almost contagious. His other hand, of course, never let go of yours. After yesterday’s hand-holding incident, it seemed like Stiles was taking no chances. Not that you minded, of course, if anything it was adorable. Cute even.

As you rounded the corner of the aisle, one cover caught your eye—a bold, action-packed design featuring a white-haired guy mid-sprint, blurred streaks trailing behind him. You tilted your head, tapping the edge of the comic to get Stiles’ attention.

“Who’s this?” you asked curiously.

Stiles leaned in, squinting at the cover before his expression shifted into a mix of recognition and mild disdain. “That’s Pietro Maximoff. Quicksilver. He’s Marvel’s speedster. You know, their answer to the Flash.” He gave a dismissive shrug. “But, like… Flash is better. Way better. It’s not even close.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by how quickly he dismissed the guy. “That’s a bold claim. You sound pretty confident about it.”

“Of course I’m confident!” Stiles said, puffing his chest a little. “Barry Allen is the speedster. The Flash doesn’t just run fast—he’s got the Speed Force, okay? That’s some next-level cosmic stuff. Quicksilver’s just… a fast dude. Big whoop.”

You smirked, your amusement growing. “You really don’t like this guy, huh?”

“It’s not that I don’t like him,” Stiles clarified, gesturing at the comic like he was on a podium giving a speech. “I mean, he’s fine. Cool costume, decent character development in some storylines, tragic backstory, blah blah blah. But when it comes to speedsters? The Flash wins. Every time. It’s science.”

“Hm,” you said, pretending to mull it over. “You know… I think you’d make a great speedster.”

Stiles blinked, caught off guard. “Me? A speedster?”

“Yeah.” You grinned, tugging lightly on his hand. “You’re already used to talking a mile a minute. You’d fit right in with the whole zipping-around thing. Especially when you’re on Adderall. It’s like speedster training.”

Stiles froze mid-step, his face contorting into a mix of indignation and embarrassment. “Oh my god, no. Don’t bring Adderall into this. That’s not fair. That's not me me, that's Adderall Stiles.”

You laughed, stepping closer to nudge his shoulder with yours. “What? I’m just saying, you’ve got the energy for it. You’d be zipping through town, leaving everyone in the dust, spouting off facts and sarcasm at light speed. Villains wouldn’t even stand a chance. They’d give up halfway through your monologue.”

He groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Why do I even let you talk to me?”

“Because you love my brilliant insights,” you teased, beaming at him. “And because I’m right. You’d be the ultimate speedster.”

Stiles lowered his head, his cheeks faintly rose as he glared at you, though the corner of his mouth twitched with the beginnings of a reluctant smile. “Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, if you’re going to compare me to any speedster, it better be the Flash. Not Quicksilver.”

“Fine,” you said, holding your hands up in mock surrender. “You’d be like the Flash. Is that better?”

“Much better,” he said, though he still looked slightly suspicious, like he was waiting for you to make another joke.

You didn’t, at least not yet. Instead, you turned back to the display, your gaze flicking over the bold covers. “So… is Quicksilver even close to being as fast as the Flash, or is this another ‘no contest’ situation?”

Stiles snorted. “Oh, it’s definitely a ‘no contest’ situation,” he said, the indignation returning to his voice as he launched into an explanation. “Like, the Flash doesn’t just run fast. He can manipulate time, travel to different dimensions, and phase through solid objects. Quicksilver’s just, like, running fast to the store to grab milk kind of fast.”

You bit back a laugh, nodding along as he gestured wildly with his free hand, still holding yours tightly with the other. His voice was animated, rattling off terms like “Speed Force,” “Tachyon particles,” and “Dimensional vibrations” with the kind of passion that made it impossible not to smile.

“And don’t even get me started on the feats,” Stiles continued, flipping open the Quicksilver comic to a random page. “The Flash has outrun death, okay? DEATH. Quicksilver’s out here getting winded after a lap around the block.”

“Poor Pietro,” you murmured, unable to hide your grin.

“Poor Pietro?” Stiles repeated, incredulous. “Poor Pietro doesn’t even have the decency to acknowledge he’s second place. At least Wally West knows Barry’s the best. It’s about respect.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. “You’re really passionate about this, huh?”

“Of course I am!” he said, looking at you like the answer was obvious. “It’s a fundamental truth of the universe. Flash, a million other speedsters, Quicksilver. Always.”

“Got it,” you said, squeezing his hand. “No contest.”

“No contest,” Stiles echoed firmly, though his grin softened when he looked at you. “I’m glad you’re seeing the light.”

“Anything to keep you from losing sleep over it,” you smiled, nudging him gently before turning your attention back to the shelves.

Stiles shook his head, muttering something under his breath about “Educating the masses” before launching into yet another explanation about why DC’s line-up of heroes was objectively superior to Marvel’s. You let him talk, his excitement lighting up the entire aisle as you browsed.

Stiles sighed heavily, casting an exaggeratedly wary glance around the Marvel section like he was expecting someone to leap out and catch him red-handed. “Okay, we’ve been here long enough. Someone might see me,” he muttered, tugging at your hand in a half-hearted attempt to lead you away. “Do you know what that would do to my reputation? I’d never recover. This is hostile territory. I’m basically a DC ambassador in enemy lands.”

“You don’t have a reputation,” you teased, your tone light but distracted as your attention snagged on one last comic.

Stiles gasped in something reminiscent of horror. “Excuse you? I have a perfectly respectable reputation as the most informed comic book connoisseur this town has ever seen, thank you very much. And now you’re actively trying to destroy it by keeping me here. Honestly, I think this counts as betrayal.”

You didn’t answer, still focused on the cover in front of you. Tilting your head slightly, you pointed at it, your brows furrowing just a bit. “Wait… is that the Chris Evans one? American Captain or something?”

The moment the words left your mouth, Stiles froze mid-step, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and the deepest offense you’d ever seen on his face. “Did you just—” He stopped, blinking, and then corrected sharply, “It’s Captain America, not… whatever that was.”

You glanced at him, unbothered by his tone as you gestured at the comic again. “Yeah, that guy. The one with the shield, right?”

“Yes, the one with the shield,” he replied, voice tinged with exasperation. “God, it’s like you’re trying to hurt me.” But then his eyes actually landed on the cover you were looking at, and for once, Stiles Stilinski fell quiet.

You turned to face him fully, surprised by the lack of follow-up snarky comments. “What? No scathing remarks about Marvel?”

He huffed a breath through his nose, his shoulders dropping slightly as he went to cross his arms before realising that'd mean he'd had have to let go of your hand and instead decided on resting his free hand on his hip. “Look, I’m not saying I’m a fan, okay? But… Steve Rogers is solid. Like, if I had to respect one guy from Marvel, it’d be him.”

Your brows shot up, and you turned fully to him now, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Are you… are you actually praising Captain America right now? Did I hear that right?”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” Stiles muttered quickly, his gaze darting around the aisle again like someone might overhear. He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice like he was confessing a dark secret. “But yeah, he’s got good stuff going for him. The whole ‘man out of time’ storyline? Classic. That moral compass? Unshakable. And the guy can take a beating like a champ. I mean, he was literally frozen for decades, woke up, and was like, ‘Yeah, let’s save the world.’ That’s commitment.”

You stared at him, blinking in mild shock. “Wow. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day. Stiles Stilinski, DC’s loudest cheerleader, actually giving Marvel props. What’s next, you’re going to admit Tony Stark is cool?”

“Okay, let’s not get carried away,” Stiles said quickly, holding up a hand to stop you. “One at a time, okay? Captain America is where I draw the line. Tony Stark can wait in his ridiculously overpriced tower of narcissism.” He pointed at the comic for emphasis. “But Steve Rogers? I’ll admit, the guy’s got depth. He’s a little too perfect sometimes—like, we get it, you’re a saint—but it works. And that ‘doing what’s right even when it sucks’ thing? That’s actually badass. You can’t not respect that.”

“Wow,” you said again, unable to help the smile stretching across your face. “I’m impressed. I didn’t know you had it in you to admit that.”

“Yeah, well, don’t expect it to happen again,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking pointedly away from you. “I’ve already betrayed everything I stand for by even being in this section. My soul is going to need a serious cleansing later. Probably some Batman. Maybe a little Superman too, just to balance the scales. Don't tell Scott that.”

You laughed, stepping closer to him and squeezing his hand. “You’re so dramatic.”

He glanced down at your joined hands, his grip tightening slightly as he looked at you. “Oh, I’m dramatic? You’re the one keeping me here, testing my loyalty to the brand.” He started pulling you gently toward the exit of the aisle, throwing one last wary glance at the Marvel display. “Let’s get out of here before someone takes a picture of me near these comics. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, remember?”

“Oh, your reputation?” you teased as Stiles dragged you further down the aisle, glancing back toward the Marvel display with a smirk that you knew would get under his skin. “You mean the one that crumbles like a sandcastle every time Captain America gets mentioned? That reputation?”

He came to an abrupt halt mid-step, spinning on his heel to face you with an expression that looked genuinely offended. His mouth opened and closed like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. “Excuse me? My reputation crumbles? Over Captain America?”

You shrugged, your smirk widening as you glanced over your shoulder toward the display. “I mean, let’s be real. Cap’s got it all, doesn’t he? The shield, the heroic speeches, the self-sacrificing tendencies, the arms—”

“No. Nope. Stop,” Stiles interrupted, his hands shooting up like he was physically trying to put a stop to your words. “I’m going to stop you right there. First of all, those arms are a product of CGI and a gym schedule that’s basically torture. Second of all—”

“Not real,” you finished for him, your tone light with amusement. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Captain America isn’t real.”

“Exactly!” Stiles said, latching onto the point like it was his lifeline. “He’s not real. Which means, technically, he doesn’t count. You can’t pick a guy who doesn’t exist over me. That’s, like, breaking some kind of unwritten relationship law.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, dragging the words out as you tilted your head at him, your smirk returning. “Then I guess I’ll go with Chris Evans instead.”

For a split second, Stiles just stared at you, his brain visibly trying to process what you’d just said. Then it clicked, and his eyes went wide as he pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You’re breaking the boyfriend code!”

Your lips twitched, threatening to break into a full-blown grin. “Am I?”

“Yes, you are!” he declared, looking personally offended as he threw his hands up in exasperation. “You’re breaking rule five! This is—this is betrayal! You’re not allowed to replace me with Chris Evans!”

“I don’t know,” you said, fighting to keep your tone as innocent as possible. “Chris Evans seems like a pretty solid choice. I mean, he’s charming, funny, heroic—”

“Okay, no.” Stiles stepped closer, glaring down at you with an intensity that was equal parts playful and dramatic. “You are not replacing me with Captain America, or Chris Evans, or anyone, for that matter. That is not how this relationship works.”

“Oh, it’s not?” you asked, feigning confusion as you stepped back just enough to make him follow.

“No, it’s not!” he said firmly, though the way he was gesturing wildly with one hand—his other still firmly holding yours—undercut the seriousness of his tone. “There’s no replacing me! I’m irreplaceable! I’m the full package! I mean, look at me—have you seen these cheekbones? This jawline? This hair?”

“Hmm,” you hummed softly, pretending to consider his words. “I don’t know… Chris Evans has a pretty great jawline too.”

“Unbelievable,” Stiles muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “I let you into my comic book store sanctuary, and this is how you repay me? By threatening to replace me with Captain America? This is sabotage.”

“Sabotage?” you echoed, barely able to keep the laughter out of your voice. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic! This is me being reasonable!” Stiles said, though his voice pitched higher toward the end, completely betraying his words. “Do you know what this is? This is war. You’ve officially declared war on my ego.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, stepping closer to him again and pressing a hand to his chest. “Stiles, it’s not war. It’s just me keeping you on your toes.”

“Yeah, well, my toes don’t like it,” he grumbled, though his hand instinctively came up to rest over yours. “You’ve already broken four rules this week, and now this? You’re tearing me apart here.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, the sound bubbling out of you and making Stiles narrow his eyes at you suspiciously. “Oh, Stiles,” you said, shaking your head fondly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous or not, you owe me for this,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to his tone.

“Oh, I owe you, huh?” you asked, raising a brow at him. “What, like pancakes again? Or maybe a grand romantic gesture?”

“No, not pancakes,” he said quickly, before pausing to squint at you. “Wait. Wait. Did you plan this? Are you breaking all the rules on purpose? Is this, like, a game to you?”

Your lips twitched as you fought to keep your expression neutral. “Why would I do that?”

“I knew it!” Stiles said, throwing his hands up like he’d just solved a major conspiracy. “You’re trying to destroy me. You’ve already broken four rules this week, and now you’re going for the jugular with rule five? This is emotional warfare!”

“Emotional warfare?” you repeated, biting back a laugh as you stepped back and tugged on his hand to lead him toward the DC section. “Stiles, you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m being traumatized,” he said dramatically, though he followed you without hesitation, his hand still tightly clasping yours. “And you will make this up to me. I don’t know how yet, but it better be good.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” you said with a grin, glancing back at him.

“I will,” he muttered, his tone softening slightly as his fingers tightened around yours. “And it’s going to be amazing.”

It was only when you pulled him into the next aisle that his exaggerated pout cracked, his lips twitching into a small smile despite himself. “Still not off the hook, though,” he added under his breath, though the way he looked at you said otherwise.

The bell above the comic book shop door jingled as the two of you stepped back out into the frigid evening air, a sharp contrast to the cosy, fluorescent warmth of the store. The weight of the bag in your hand served as both a reminder of your dwindling savings and a source of quiet satisfaction. Stiles was at your side, his grip on your other hand firm, as though letting go now might let the cold or his grumpiness seep back in.

The two of you started down the pavement, the world blanketed in the soft hues of the setting sun. Stiles’ gaze darted toward the bag every few seconds, his expression caught between lingering annoyance and reluctant gratitude.

“Yes,” you finally said, catching his eyes and answering the unspoken question written all over his face. “It bit into my meager funds.”

His eyebrows raised slightly.

“Yes,” you continued with a faint smile, “I’ll probably have to beg for extra shifts at work to make up for it.” You leaned a little closer to bump your shoulder against his. “But…” You paused, catching his gaze fully this time. “It was worth it.”

“For me?” he asked, his tone incredulous, though there was a flicker of something softer beneath it.

“For you,” you confirmed simply, letting your smile grow just a little wider.

Stiles glanced away, his lips twitching like he was trying very hard not to let the corners curl up into a smile. “You’re not supposed to break me down emotionally and then spoil me with comics,” he muttered, the faintest grumble in his voice. “It’s… confusing.”

You snorted, swinging the bag gently as you tugged him to a stop beneath the soft glow of a streetlight. “Consider it an apology for the whole Captain America thing.”

“The Chris Evans thing,” he corrected, his eyes narrowing, though the playful glint in them was impossible to miss.

“Right, that,” you agreed, feigning innocence. “And if the comics aren’t enough…” You stepped a little closer to him, tilting your head. “Then I solemnly swear—no, I pinky promise—to make it up to you. Somehow.”

He looked at you, long and skeptical, though his grip on your hand tightened just slightly. “Pinky promises are serious business,” he muttered, holding up his free hand and hooking his pinky with yours.

“They are,” you replied solemnly, your voice soft with amusement as you gave his pinky the lightest tug, sealing the promise.

He let out a long, exaggerated sigh, his shoulders slumping dramatically. “Fine,” he muttered, though the faint flush on his cheeks had nothing to do with the cold. “But you’re still on thin ice.”

You just smiled, leaning in close enough to brush your nose against his. The cold made every little touch sharper, more immediate, and for a moment, it felt like the world had gone quiet, like there was nothing else but you and him in this little bubble of warmth you’d created.

When you pulled back, his cheeks were impossibly red, his eyes soft and full of something you didn’t quite have the words for. He cleared his throat, glancing down at the bag of comics as if it might save him.

“I mean…” he started, his voice quieter now, “you’re still gonna have to work pretty hard to make up for it.”

“Oh, I know,” you teased lightly, swinging the bag again as you started walking, tugging him gently along. “But let’s be real—you’re lucky I like spoiling you.”

“And you’re lucky I’m a sucker for Eskimo kisses,” he grumbled under his breath, though the way his thumb brushed lightly over the back of your hand betrayed the softness still lingering beneath his grumpiness.

“Completely fair,” you said with a quiet laugh, squeezing his hand as the two of you continued down the street.

For a moment, the world was just the two of you again, your laughter carrying softly through the crisp air.

As you reached another lamppost, Stiles gave your hand a little tug, pulling you closer again. “You know,” he muttered, his eyes darting toward the bag of comics, “you’re setting a dangerous precedent here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” He shot you a sidelong glance, his lips quirking up into a lopsided grin despite himself. “Now I’m just gonna expect this kind of treatment every time you mess with the boyfriend code.”

You gasped, mock-offended. “I’ll have you know, this was the last time I’m making it up to you for breaking the code.”

Stiles stopped in his tracks, eyebrows shooting up as he turned to face you. “The last time?” he repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. “Oh no, no, no. You don’t get to just declare that. Breaking the boyfriend code isn’t a one-and-done thing—you’re in repeat offender territory now!”

You crossed your arms, fixing him with a playful glare. “Okay, yes, technically I’ve broken it five times—”

“Five times!” he cut in, throwing his free hand up dramatically, though he still clung to your other hand like he was worried you’d make a run for it. “And you’re acting like these violations don’t count just because you made them up to me!”

“I did make them up to you!” you said, defending yourself with a grin.

“Barely,” he huffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched, and you knew he was gearing up to relive every infraction.

“Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” Stiles began, his voice heavy with mock outrage. “Rule number one: Thou shalt not steal the last curly fry without proper negotiations. You didn’t just steal the fry—you snatched it while I was looking at it, and then you smiled like you didn’t just ruin my night!”

“I kissed you right after,” you pointed out, your grin widening. “And if I recall, someone stopped being mad about it pretty quickly.”

His cheeks flushed, but he refused to concede. “Doesn’t matter. That fry had my name on it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. What’s next?”

“Rule number two,” he said, his voice dripping with exaggerated solemnity. “Thou shalt always laugh at thy boyfriend’s jokes, even if they are terrible. And I’ll have you know, they’re not terrible.”

“I gave you extra pancakes!” you protested, laughing now at the memory of his sulking face as he dramatically buttered his toast that morning. “And you weren’t even mad—you just wanted more to see me laugh and smile. Which, if I remind you, I did! Because you are funny Stiles.”

He sniffed, trying to maintain his righteous indignation. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

“And I made up for it,” you shot back.

He narrowed his eyes, but he moved on anyway. “Rule three: Thou shalt never, under any circumstances, team up with Scott against thy boyfriend in any and all debates, disputes, or Nerf wars.”

“Okay, I really did make up for that one,” you said quickly, leaning in to bump your shoulder against his as you walked. “I told you that you won the Superman vs. Batman argument—and I even said Batman would totally win.”

“Which, of course, he would,” Stiles said, puffing his chest a little. “But you should’ve been on my side from the start!”

“Scott had some good points!” you teased.

“Don’t.” He held up a hand, mock-serious. “Don’t even go there.”

You bit back a laugh and squeezed his hand instead, knowing he was just about ready to move on to the next one.

“Rule number four,” he said, giving you a pointed look. “Thou shalt not hold thy boyfriend’s hand just to warm up thy own freezing fingers and then let go once they’re toasty.”

“That one’s on me,” you admitted, grinning sheepishly. “But I did cling to you the whole time after that—and you didn’t complain.”

“I didn’t,” he agreed grudgingly, though his lips twitched. “But only because I’m a very forgiving boyfriend.”

“And I appreciate you for it,” you said, leaning closer to nudge your nose against his temple.

He sighed dramatically. “Which brings us to the big one: Rule five.” He stopped walking again, spinning to face you with an exaggerated frown. “Thou shalt not threaten to replace thy boyfriend with Derek Hale, Chris Evans, or any fictional hottie with a tragic backstory.”

You smirked. “Okay, but Captain America is very—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he said quickly, his hand tightening around yours.

“Fine. Chris Evans, then,” you teased.

His eyes went wide, his lips parting in mock betrayal. “You’re actually breaking the rule again, right now, in real time. Do you see what I have to deal with?”

You couldn’t stop laughing, but you tugged on his hand, coaxing him to keep walking. “Relax. I already made up for it with the comics. And for the record, I’m officially retiring from breaking the boyfriend code. No more violations.”

“Oh, sure,” he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Until the next time there’s a curly fry or Chris Evans in the picture.”

You just smiled, leaning in close enough to brush your nose against his. The cold made every little touch sharper, more immediate, and for a moment, it felt like the world had gone quiet, like there was nothing else but you and him in this little bubble of warmth you’d created.

When you pulled back, his cheeks were impossibly red, his eyes soft and full of something you didn’t quite have the words for. He cleared his throat, looking down at the bag of comics as if it might save him. "I don't even like Chris Evans, Stiles."

“For the record,” he muttered, glancing at you through his lashes, “I’m still kind of mad about Captain America. But I’m also kind of… less mad, because comics. And the nose thing.”

You laughed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ll take it.”

And as the two of you continued down the street, the cold biting at your cheeks and your breath forming little clouds in the air, you couldn’t help but feel that even if you’d broken the boyfriend code five times, this was exactly where you were supposed to be—walking home with him, fingers intertwined, and hearts warm despite the chill.

[gunsatthaphan]

.₊ ⟡ ݁ 🏆 2024 Top 10 🏆 ⟡ ݁₊ .

hello! I got tagged by a few people for various kinds of tier-list-posts for this year, so instead of making separate posts that will probably end up being repetitive, I decided to combine them all into one Top 10 list of my personal favorites in 2024. My watchlist was not very lengthy this year, partly because I was busy with work and partly because the quality of many shows was not to my liking. I started a bunch of things and dropped them shortly after, which also included more widely popular ones, for which I did not share the general public opinion. In the course of that, I have become more hesitant to share my thoughts online, as with every mildly critical POV came a number of anonymous people breathing down my neck. Which isn't new for me but by the end of the year I have gotten tired and was debating whether or not I should make this post but then I decided that this is my blog and idgaf about butthurt anons lol. I'm trying to carry this mindset into the new year.

So here is my Top 10 of BL/GLs that I have started and finished this year. A very special shoutout goes to The Heart Killers which owns my ass 100% and I totally would have added it but since we're only on ep6, I feel like it wouldn't be fair to include it in this list - also because I sort of consider it a category of its own lol.

I had no trouble picking this as my number one, simply because it's an outstanding production with an S-tier cast and a very powerful and well executed script. I've always loved Up but Poom took the cake for me in this, I was absolutely starstruck by him and his screen presence, he's a big surprise for me and has become one of my personal favorites this year in terms of acting. I could fill books with reasons why I love this show.

I had to include this even though it's not finished but I'm really blown away by it. The GLs I previously watched were okay but did not strike me quite as much as this one. I knew I would love Film and Namtan together from the moment they got paired as they're both insanely skilled and I was not disappointed. They understand the assignment 100% and so does Snap25 and it really shows. I'm obsessed.

Speaking of masterpieces, this is another one. It didn't get much attention sadly, mostly because TayNew did not deliver the dynamic the general BL population was hoping for. Their loss. This is an amazing production from start to finish, the 4 of them are the best possible casting choice for their characters, the found family trope is one of the best I've seen and especially TayNew delivered another gem with this one. I shall never doubt them again. This is how you do bromance. Certain other shows could never. send tweet.

Ah yes. No year goes by without the obligatory Mame guilty pleasure lol. What can I say. FortPeat as annoying southern scuba boy meets snobby whiny writer on a beach. How can I look away. I genuinely enjoyed this, it feels like the story was written for them, it's a perfect fit for them and their range I think plus I'm glad that Aya finally found a GL partner that matches her energy lol. I loved both couples and even though the plot did lack sometimes, you can count on MMY to serve S-tier chemistry no matter what. A+.

This is my personal hidden little gem, a small production with not a ton of attention, let alone good reviews but sometimes those are the best ones. The beginning was a bit slow but it quickly picked up. I decided to give it a watch mostly because I was curious about Charles' followup bl role and ended up getting very attached lol. So much softness and deep emotions and mutual healing that happened here and that I appreciated a lot. This was also my first Taiwanese BL in I think 3 years(?) I loved it.

I was very excited to watch this and see what Change 2561 came up with after Pit Babe and even though I'm not the biggest fan of cooking plots, I ended up enjoying this a lot! I've been a SailubPon and GarfieldBenz connoisseur since Pit Babe and it was so nice to see them in the spotlight in this. I saw a bunch of people drop it because they found Plawan annoying but I disagree lol. I had a very good time.

I initially tuned into this for Seng and Best, just to see what they're up to these days and it ended with me eating the whole thing up lol. The unapologetic approach to topics like sex education mixed with the sweet love stories that came with it is one of the things I appreciated + enjoyed a lot. I was a big fan of Peak and Thanwa and would definitely watch another show with Seng and Best as I really love their dynamic. Latte and Almond had a good start but fell a bit flat towards the end. Still a very deserving 7th place for me.

I was sooo excited for this and overall it did not disappoint, though I think it could have been better in some aspects. The comprehensive vibe was juvenile but not in a bad way. I anticipated gmmtv would choose a trope-y plot for their first GL to test the waters and it seems they succeeded. The main reason I put it as number 8 is the AylinLuna side story which I very strongly disliked for multiple reasons I won't get into here. But MilkLove did a fantastic job and this was a very nice debut for them. Thumbs up!

This might be the most unexpected gem for me this year. I started watching it because I was bored and nothing else was on and I was curious to see Dunk in his first solo gig. Surprisingly he did a big leap forward with his acting in this and White was by far my favorite character. Lune on the other hand was my least favorite which was another surprise as I previously loved Phuwin as Peem in We Are so I'm not sure why Lune was so unlikable. But anyway this was a very nice combination of different cute little stories, LuneStar were very trope-y but White saved a great deal of it by being the third wheel lol, plus the BL sideplot was pure sugar. I'm sad we won't see Ryu and Java together again and I resent them not giving us that well deserved WhiteIvy endgame but overall I enjoyed this a lot!

Never thought I would put a Siwaj production in my Top 10 but I'm tired of pretending I didn't secretly love this lmao. So much chaos but so much fun. It's a typical ensemble show, mostly aimed at a domestic audience with lots of slapstick and horseplay comedy, but I ended up being quite fond of all the couples. The main crystallization for me was that this is PondPhuwin's territory, this is the type of show they belong in imo. They excel at this kind of comedy and they seemed very careless and joyful in this, which I enjoyed and which made them a decent main couple. The QToey plot was a bit draggy and even though it's a big cast, 16 episodes were not necessary, which is why it gets the 10th place. But overall it still deserves to be in this list.

Thanks again to everyone who tagged me; in this and other things over the year, I appreciate you thinking of me!! 🥺🧡 I didn't manage to reply to every tag but know that I see them all and I try to do as many as possible! Also a big thank you and much love to all the lovely people I talked to this year, especially @lattexalmond, @mayalunas @bl-recs-and-reviews and @my-wandering-rabbit, I love and cherish each one of you! 🧡 Happy New Year to everyone who read this far, here's to a kind and successful 2025 with groundbreaking shows lol. I'm hopeful.

xxxx

[leletha-jann]

Headcanon on reasonable evidence, actually: Every Heterodyne gets their own specific pack of Jägermonster guards.

Yes, the Jägermonsters are all sworn to the family in general, but Heterodynes do unreasonable and dangerous things on absolutely no notice, and it's helpful to have a specific set of personal guards who know them as individuals well enough to respond immediately. (Of course, Jägers think this sounds like fun.)

Agatha having Dimo, Maxim, and Oggie on more or less permanent assignment to her isn't unusual; it's normal. They know this, and have encouraged her to fall into a pattern they were expecting, actually, and she didn't take any steering at all. On some instinctive level she was expecting it too. Even if Dimo keeps his promotion to General, he'll be a General on the move, from wherever Agatha happens to be. They'll be with her for the rest of her life.

Consorts get their own squads, too. At some point in the future, Gil and Tarvek both acquire a handful of their own personal Jägers, sottle-like. (They notice it happen anyway.)

Jorgi is absolutely one of Tarvek's squad, because there's no way he wasn't designed to be Tarvek's personal guard Jäger, and it will be hilarious.

I'd also love to see Agatha assign Jenka to him, because Tarvek's recently on record as missing his personal spy network, and he and Jenka would have that up and running in no time flat. They'd have fun. (Jenka doesn't hold "being Andronicus Valois' descendent" against him, because Tarvek's loyalties are firmly with Agatha, and they share a "to hell with that family in particular" attitude.) Also, it would be a neat little parallel with Tarvek giving Violetta to Agatha. Agatha could give him a sneaky lady who can kick his ass (and will if when needed) right back. For maximum humor, Füst should take to Tarvek exactly the same way the wasp eaters did.

(this, but with JAGER BEAR)

I don't know if Gil ends up with Vole as one of his pack, because I don't know where the Foglios are going with him. But I nominate this guy from book one:

And this guy from book 14:

to follow Gil around and be reassuring to him periodically.

Higgs has sort of ended up as immediate supervision of the entire triumvirate. Whichever of them is in reach, or all three of them at once. Insert Higgs looking really deadpan tired here. This face. Forever.

Jägers get EXTREMELY excited when they learn a new baby Heterodyne is on the way, and start campaigning to be on the baby's personal guard squad immediately. Of course, being Jägers, there's a lot of biting involved. I imagine months of Jägers challenging each other, not just to fights, because they did all that already, but to increasingly ridiculous and pointless challenges that they're both making up on the spot and obsessively keeping track of. The only real rule is that if you challenge someone to something, you have to do it too (otherwise how will you know who won?) They challenge each other one on one, or everyone in sight. This leads to things like most of the Jägerhorde running a screaming, pushing, biting, brawling egg-and-spoon race down the longest street in Mechanicsburg. The townsfolk line up to watch and cheer. (They're considered a course hazard, so they get to throw things.) Whoever's currently winning (don't ask me how that points math works) when the baby is born gets assigned to the baby.

Bill and Barry both had their own Jäger squads and never knew it, because their guards weren't allowed anywhere near them. Theodora was pretty much out there with a shotgun if she heard even the hint of a Jägermonster accent. Those Jägers still resent it. They feel robbed of their (most recent) chance to be trusted favorites. They might get special-pleading rights in the next tournament-to-guard-the-new-baby, assuming their brothers aren't completely fed up with their whining about it by now.

Klaus Barry had his own guards, but Bill didn't know because the Jägers were barely even allowed in the Castle by that point, so they just didn't tell him. Master of Mechanicsburg or not, the Jägers didn't trust him not to send them away even further (and rightly so).

Nobody volunteered to guard Lucrezia. Bill didn't understand the insult in that, and the townspeople didn't tell him. But every single one of them NOTICED. Ho yez.

There are only so many Jägermonsters, so by this point everyone who's still alive has been in a personal guard squad at least once. Collectively, the Jägermonsters know all the gossip, going back centuries. They'll never tell. If pressed, they suddenly lose the ability to remember last week, much less 1528. They can't be bribed, not even with alcohol, although they encourage people to try.

Canon: Jenka was in Euphrosnia's personal guard.

Seen elsewhere on Tumblr but I forgot to reblog it: Vole was one of Saturnus' pack, which is why he tried to kill Bill and Barry. Saturnus had tried, after all, and Vole was most loyal to Saturnus in particular. (If this was your theory, let me know! Credit to you.)

TL;DR: Jägers running an egg-and-spoon race through Mechanicsburg. There. Now you have the highlight of this post.

Also: ä is alt-132 (using the keypad). NOW YOU KNOW. (hopefully I also now know, because this is like the fifth time I've tried to memorize that)

[desert-whale-drifting]

Jason Todd x Academic!Reader

These are my headcanons of Jason with a reader in academics because finals are catching up with me, and I need a cute boy to read geology terms to <3 I didn't make it specifically college au just because not all academically inclined readers experience college/education/academics the same way, and I want to try being inclusive, lol. The image is from pinterest :-)

Warnings/Rating: Headcanon/thoughts, sfw! Choppy writing and me waxing poetic, mentions of butt-touching, mentions of having hair, but otherwise nothing else!

(Feel free to request me to tag anything, just in case, I'm new to this)

He understands the exhaustion of pulling an all-nighter, and keeps your caffeine of choice stocked

Unless that caffeine is in energy drinks

He'll keep them stocked, but he's absolutely the type to sit there and rattle off all the reasons you shouldn't be drinking them as if he isn't a smoking vigilante himself.

When he isn't out patrolling or doing Red Hood stuff, he hangs around your apartment, just loitering and body-doubling so you aren't working alone. He'll lie on your bed and read a book while you type away, periodically making you food/snacks or grabbing water, and doing various chores.

He helps you break your routine by taking you to libraries, cafes, and parks to do some of your work, so you don't feel chained to your desk.

He loves it when you start rambling to him about a section that's confusing you or exciting you

It makes him feel valuable and essential when you include him in your work.

After his not-death, he really wishes he could pursue academics as well. When you ask him what a math question equals or for an example of a Modernist author for an essay, he feels like he's still got it—like he really is Smart.

With you, he is more than just his physicality, and he CAN be both a tank of a man and a literary genius.

You see beyond his contradictions and embrace him for them, and he's never quite felt so whole.

He loves seeing your loose hairs blowing around in the wind when you work outdoors, too concentrated on your readings to tuck them away. Loves the bits of bright green pollen caught in your hair, sprinkled all over your clothes in the way you hate

He really loves getting to be the person that brushes his hands across your ass to make sure the pollen is wholly gone, an excuse to grope your ass that has himn unable to hide the way his grin exaggerates his lip scar laughing at your exclamations of being in public.

He loves it when you lose yourself in something and loves getting to be a Witness to you. It's the same feeling when you see a deer at dawn, a fleeting moment of being included in something that will ripple throughout the world beyond yourself in an insignificant but meaningful way.

Sitting in the sunlight with you, reading about glacier advancements to him is closer to warm than he ever thought he'd get to feel again.

It scratches the academic in himself, the little boy who loved reading, who used to see the magic in the world, and that Jason thought couldn't crawl out of the grave with him.

He feels it in your voice's genuine intrigue and excitement when you tell him about Pleistocene fossils, or when you finally break down which quote best exemplifies metaphor in a poem.

It's not felt in the tactical mind he honed with Bruce and as Red Hood, that knows when to pull a trigger, who to interrogate, or how many fingers to break until someone talks.

It's the part of him that insatiably consumed books, a child in a world he didn't understand, looking for friends and people like himself to protect and grow with

He recalls that feeling when he's with you, at your desk at late hours, or in the library with 30 minutes to close.

He feels the amber light of your attention on him even when it isn't. He feels it when you share your grades and results with him first, he feels it when he massages your tension headaches away, and he feels it in how you value his input.

He feels like he's finally found not just a lighthouse to guide himself with and call home, but also a friend and lover to live with at the top.

[miss-multi45]

Just thinking of the Ghouls & Ghoulettes getting a boudoir / dudeoir book from their s/o on christmas infront of the other ghouls😊

“What did you get [Ghoul/Ghoulette]?” -other ghoul/ghoulette.

“Book.” -Ghoul/Ghoulette.

so sexy muahahah

swiss

didn't know what a dudeior was up until today which is surprising because..come on..it's swiss.

when he opens the book, his eyes blow wide and he side eyes you with a horny smile.

later on, he reads the book while you choke on his cock, pointing out everything it says about fellatio and the like to you while gently but forcefully pushing your head further down.

sodo

knows what a dudeoir is and secretly really wanted one.

when he opened the present, he immediately looked over at you and pointed at the book like 'this shit your doing?'

makes you read it to him while he's got you in the meanest mating press and humiliates you when you get too dumb to talk.

it's a thank you for the lovely book <3

rain

giggles when he unwraps it, just to see the sultry cover of a classy looking dudeoir.

please make him read it while you press a bullet vibrator to his cock, he will moan like a bitch.

phantom

doesn't know what a dudeoir is even when he opened the prezzie.

thought it was just an oddly sexual looking male anatomy book.

until you read it to him as a bedtime story and he started pathetically whining and humping your thigh.

mountain

when he looked at the wrapped present in apothecary plant wrapping paper, his himbo ass thought it was another gardening book.

when he tore the paper from the present, he froze and a blush creeped across his face.

however, he did end up dicking you down while degrading you about being a 'filthy little slut, buying me a sultry book and making me blush in front of my pack? what a smug whore you are.'

aether

actually wanted one.

when he opened it and his tail wagged, the whole pack knew he wanted whatever it was that he got other than his banana socks, thank you cirrus.

playful, happy sex followed afterwards.

omega

this hot fucking ghoul was lounging on the sofa with his arms draped lazily on the back of the sofa. he's so unnhhh

literally the sexiest smuggest smile when he saw the front cover, then he affectionately dragged you towards him by your thighs and playfully patted his knee to sit on it.

as we all know, he is an exhibitionist. he made you ride his thigh while everyone else was oblivious and looking at their own presents.

alpha

when he unwrapped it, his eyebrows shot up for a split second like the thing you see men do in movies uugghhh.

then his red eyes immediately flicked towards you.

read it silently while everyone else was unwrapping their prezzies, you on his lap as his hand jacking you off/fingering you was concealed by the fluffy blanket covering you both.

ifrit

opened it, and got hard immediately.

excused himself so he could go and railed the absolute everloving fuck out of you while reading the book to you.

when he came back, his pack asked him what took so long.

deadass answered, "sorry guys, i was banging my mate."

zephyr

opened it, and immediately said "oh!".

he loves it, they just didn't know how to answer.

gives you a look and gestures to the book like "is this your doing?"

wrecks you later in the evening.

aurora

was hella excited when she opened it and saw the boudoir cover.

when you were back in the ghoul den getting ready for the Christmas din dins, she literally got on her knees and begged you to fuck her pussy while making her read the book to you.

cirrus

immediately looked up at you with a pussy-wetting grin on her pretty face.

ate you out while tears were running down your face and you slurred out the words of the boudoir.

cumulus

chuckled when she saw it.

used the strap while she read the book to you, grabbing your face whenever your eyes rolled back while she asked you "why are you zoning out? that's not polite when someone's reading to you."

mist

opens it, then immediately starts reading it.

uses her new knowledge to make you tremble and squirt like a geyser.

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

Hi there, I've been wanting to start a new podcast and seen a lot of people talking about Malevolent and The Magnus Archives (I thought they were the same podcast for the longest time...). Anyway, it seems like maybe you've listened to both of them? Do you have a recommendation of which I should start with? I know almost nothing about either of them lol

hi! i'm far from a podcast connoisseur, but i have listened to the entirety of both tma and malevolent and i'm a huge fan of both, so i'd be happy to give a pitch for them haha. i will try to give the vibes without spoilers.

i listened to tma first, and the premise is that everything you hear is being recorded onto a tape recorder, primarily by the head archivist of the magnus institute, which is a private facility that collects and researches statements of paranormal experiences. each episode is jonathan sims, the archivist, recording one of these statements, and then giving his (usually skeptical and scathing) opinion at the end, along with what his assistants' research has turned up on the events of the story.

it's a very slow-burn show, as it takes 20 episodes to even hear another voice and 40 episodes before Shit Gets Real. things shake up a lot at that point, but i don't want to give spoilers.

it's extremely well-made, and i think one of its biggest flaws is also one of its biggest accomplishments, which is the incredibly intricate, non-linear web of characters it weaves through all 5 seasons. a name will be mentioned in passing in a statement, a description of a person mentioned in another, and then a couple seasons later it turns out they're the same character and vitally important to the plot.

(i call that a flaw bc my adhd ass had a HARD time keeping track of all these names, remembering who was who and what happened to them, and mixing up names pronounced similarly. you can consult the wiki, but that will also give you spoilers.)

the story-telling is superb, the characters are great, the romance subplot is wonderful... i think the only thing that isn't exciting for me is that i'm not really a horror fan for the sake of horror itself, so i don't absolutely love listening to the all the standalone statements, which make up the majority of the show. i really like the plot and character work that surrounds the statements.

now, malevolent is often put in the same category because they're both about english men experiencing The Horrors, but the listening experience is VERY different. while tma is like listening to a repressed autistic man tell you a spooky bedtime story, malevolent is being thrown into the shoes of a blind man running for his life while a demon screams in his ear to run faster because the monster is about to eat them.

malevolent is about arthur lester, a 1930s private investigator who comes to in his office, suddenly blind, with a voice in his head and a corpse at his feet. he's just opened a book that was imprisoning an eldritch being, who has subsequently taken up residence in his head and stolen his eyesight.

arthur and the entity, who later chooses to name himself john doe, have no choice but to work together to navigate the world to both figure out what just happened and how they're going to separate, and outrun the powerful forces that want to kill arthur and take john back.

since arthur is blind, john has to narrate everything he sees and describe what arthur needs to do, which works extremely well for an audio drama format. it also works really well to inflict a very visceral type of horror, as we're in the same position as arthur, "blind" to what's happening until john tells us.

while the plot is interesting and the messages are, imo, good ones, the main selling point for me is entirely john and arthur's relationship. they start out as unwilling allies, arthur terrified and john manipulative. slowly, they work their way toward tentative friendship, as they bicker and discover that their love language is being just absolute cunts to each other and divorcing every ten minutes. by virtue of being forced together in their "get along body", they figure out how to sand down those rough edges, how to understand each other and work out their problems, how to apologize and open up and trust each other.

eventually, they become so entangled that they are essentially one being, with enough love for each other to defy the gods and crawl through a blizzard on broken legs in the mere hope of being reunited.

where tma is the asexual podcast (since jon is canonically ace), malevolent is sort of the aromantic podcast. arthur is not quite canonically aro (i have a rant for why i think it's creator-confirmed, but it's not confirmed in-text), but he's as aro-coded as i've ever seen, and him and john are as qpr-coded as i've ever seen. the creator says that they're never going to be confirmed romantic (though he's fine with shipping), but they've also said "i love you" to each other, and it just really warms my little aro heart.

the same as tma, i think malevolent's biggest flaw is also it's biggest strength, which is that it's literally a one-man show. harlan guthrie writes, edits, soundscapes, and voices EVERY single character, which i think is incredible. i only call it a flaw because there are times when i do think he could have maybe used a co-writer or editor on some rough areas, and because it's a common complaint that there aren't more women in the podcast.

i'm not sure i can recommend which one to start with, as to me they have very different vibes. maybe just listen to episode one of each and see which one fits your mood better. i think they're both excellent, just not actually as similar as we like to joke they are.

so yeah, that's my long schpiel about my two favorite podcasts lol 😊 feel free to ask if you have more questions!

[thomatri]

Smarter

Hinata Shoyo X f reader

Synopsis- you fall inlove with a short volleyball obsessed boy who goes to your older brother’s school

——

Not going to the same school as your siblings suck I mean imagine your basically entire family goes to one school and your the only one who doesn’t and it’s even worse when you see the absolute smile on your big brother face and can’t stop talking about how excited he is to go to school with him

And you have no clue how to break the news to him

I mean your parents are proud of you of course for getting into a big league school and your sister just over heard the conversation

“And hey I can even help you through all the first year bull crap because let’s be real big sis wasn’t much help considering she’s like a dinosaur she hasn’t had to think about that stuff in ages”

“Ryū I have something to confess”

“Yeah?”

“Uhm well mom and dad wanted me to apply to Aoba Josai and Shiratorizawa and well I got into both” I say and he immediately perks up which makes me feel worse because I know he’s happy for me, but I really wanted to go to Karasuno

“Mom and dad wanted me to go to Aoba Josai, but I wanted to be closer so I’m going to Shiratorizawa” I say smiling and he immediately hugs me

“Does sis know?”

“Yeah she eased dropped on our conversation” I say and he laughs

“Just promise me that you’ll go to our games once a month!”

“Once a month?” I say laughing

“Okay fine once a year go and and if your team isn’t playing in nationals you have to watch us play” he says and I nod

“It’s a deal”

——

My first day was boring, but there was a cute guy with purple hair and he looked nerdy

I head to the boys volleyball gym and it seems like the boy is following me? Maybe I’m just crazy though

As I reach the gym I realize he’s probably here for try outs making me feel dumb and thankful he can’t read my mind

We walk in and immediately I find the coach who looks really mean so I hope I’m wrong

The couch barks some orders then turns his attention to me

“The girls volleyball team is next door” he says

“Oh uhm I’m actually here for the manager position”

He quirks an eye brow

“Fine but you have to work for it” he says and I nod

“I want you to write notes on all the plays that are already apart of the team and give me one of the new plays who you think should join the team and give me reasons why” he says

Damn I thought this was volleyball not English class

“Yes sir wait how am I supposed to know which plays are already apart of the team”

“Oh yes” he says trying not to be embarrassed

He gives me the description of all the previous plays even the in famous Ushijima

As they start I write notes on all the previous players since I feel like that would be the hardest part, but I already know which player is definitely joining the team and I don’t mean to be bias but I think his name is Goshiki aka the cute guy from my class

He has immense power and seems to have a honest passion for the game I can see him being like Ushijima as he progresses

——

As try outs end and the coach lets them know to go to the gym on Wednesday to see who got in he asks me for my notes

I hand him the notebook nervously

He stands there reading for about 6 minutes then he hands me the book back

“These notes are good. Welcome to the team” he says and even with the little bit of praise I’m extremely happy

“YAHOO we have a cutie for a manager!” The red head guy says jumping

“Don’t scare her Tendou” Ushijima says

“Hehe sorry!” He says and I laugh

I think I’m going to like it here more than I thought

——

That was a not too long ago and Karasuno is having a practice match with Nekoma and thankfully practice was canceled because coach is sick

Sis is picking me up from school so I’ll be a little late

“Heyy!” Sis says hugging me tightly

“Hey”

“Alright ready to finally watch Karasuno kick ass?”

“Yeah!” I say and she laughs as we get into the car

Maybe it’s because I’m used to it but I love my sisters crazy driving.

Sis opens the gym doors to Karasuno and I’m finally entering it for the first time

“We’re here!” Sis says bringing the attention to us which does make me nervous

“Hey Ms.Seiko” Mr.Takeda says with a smile and they starts chattering

Ryū runs and almost knocks me over in a hug

“TANAKA DON’T KNOCK THE POOR GIRL OVER” Daichi says and Tanaka laughs

“I’m so happy you’re here!” He says

“Me too” I say laughing with him

I look around at the team there’s a lot more people than last year and I assume most of them are first years

I’m already familiar with half of the team

“First years this is my little sister Y/n Tanaka” he says ruffling my hair making me glare at him

“Woah she’s so pretty” a cute ginger boy says. His brunette eyes immediately catch mine

My heart skips a beat at his smile

“Woah she’s super smart” a dark haired boy says

“Thank you” I say embarrassed and a little confused until I realize I’m still in my uniform

“Alright alright Nekoma should be showing up soon so let’s get ready” Daichi says and I go sit with Sis and Kiyoko

While I definitely don’t agree with Tanaka harassment of the poor girl I can’t help, but see where he’s coming from in a more tame way because she’s gorgeous

“Hello Y/n”

“Hey Kiyoko long time no see” I say smiling and she nods with a smile

“How’s everyone doing?” I ask

“There doing amazing the first years are incredible and I really see a future for this team” she says making me cheese

“Good!”

Nekoma rolls in and the practice match starts, I can’t help, but keep my eyes on the ginger boy

“Hey Kiyoko”

“Hm?”

“Who’s that ginger boy from Karasuno” I ask and she looks then smiles

“That’s Hinata he’s amazing isn’t he his quick attack is really awesome” she says and then I kinda feel bad for gawking at him

“Yeah” I say smiling

——

Finally the practice match is over or rather practice matches since every time it was about to end Hinata would ask for one more which I found cute and endearing but Kenma I think his name is from Nekoma definitely didn’t

“Do you like Hinata?” Kiyoko asks me randomly which catches me off guard

“Huh?”

“I mean we’ve been here for hours but you���ve somehow kept your eye on Hinata for like most of the entire time, but forgive me if I mis judged” Kiyoko says starting to get up with a small smile to help clean up

“I mean I’m not too sure I don’t really know him well enough to say” I say and she giggles walking off

Do I like him?

I mean we don’t even go to the same school

I get up to help clean up, but I can’t keep him off my mind

As he’s about to walk out of the gym I tap his shoulder

“Hm? Oh y/n hey!” He says smiling making my heart throb

“Can I uhm maybe get your number” I ask he looks shocked then blushes nodding handing me his phone

“Bye”

“See you soon” he says cheesing

“Really?! Hinata?!” Tanaka says making Nishinoya bust out laughing

“SHUT UP”

[eliotlime]

End of September Update

Just as a heads up, I'll be closing my commissions after the first week of October (06/10/2024) just so I can focus on other projects! If you'd like to order a bug from me or get any of my other regular commissions now's a good time to do so!

(Bugstyle | Regular Comms)

I made a really brief post on twitter about what I'm up to but since tumblr supports more text I'll just go into more depth on what projects I'm working on at the moment and general life updates!

I used to write blog posts on wordpress for school and it's just hilarious that I stopped doing that considering it feels like I was born to blog!

In general, I've been trying to crawl out of this very odd mood swing-y state I've been in for the past year. I've been semi-public about it but I graduated with a degree in animation same time last year and have sort of been recovering from the absolute burn out of that as well as watching the animation industry essentially collapse just as I left college.

I'm hoping to get into UI/UX design this coming October and try to piece what little control I have of my life back together. I don't really know what I'm doing to be honest and it feels like I'm just pawing in the dark with a lot of this stuff.

In lighter news I've been trying to get into something I've always wanted to for years which is comics! I'm not sure how much I can speak about it at the moment but I just got into an anthology which is very exciting.

I applied to shortbox last year but didn't get in :( but fingers crossed I'll get in next year! On a related note I've made a Cara profile which I'm using as a comics portfolio and archive.

--

Those of you who've been following me for years know that I've had a webcomic project called, Happenstance (which I've restarted endlessly for about 10 years at this point). While I don't really have a concrete update of that for you guys I will say that the story is more or less fixed and whatever version of it I have now is most likely the version I'll proceed with in the future.

I did try to get the ball rolling with this at the start of the year with a pilot comic but it made me so miserable to work on it I abandoned it and started making an unrelated zine instead haha

I do have plans on finishing this eventually and it'll be up on my itch.io and gumroad like everything else!

Speaking of the zine, I'd just like to thank everyone who purchased Cute Thing! I think for my first independent book project it did pretty well! It was incredibly embarrassing and nerve wrecking to promote it but I'm glad I did it.

I don't know why there's an 18+ warning on this considering this zine is pretty tame.

I guess it also helped that that stupid ass diary comic i made blew up at the same time so I got to shill my wares in relation to it. Even though I think it gave me some kind of psychological damage but every time i gain minor internet fame i shrink back into my shell anyway, this is just the first time i really felt so much.. vitriol from randos lol.

It's just hilarious it overlapped with whatever guilty gear obsession I had at the time as well. Thank you to everyone who stuck around and uh.. sorry! I walk wherever the wind takes me and it's frequently towards my own characters.

But! Speaking of Guilty Gear, I am working on an Abacelsus zine I briefly talked about on twitter a couple months back. The title is sort of pending at the moment and while I did say it might be free as a digital download, I'm probably going to charge a couple of dollars because of how much effort I'm putting into this.

On the plus side that means I'll probably be putting more effort into it! I'm aiming for 24 interior pages of stuff and hoping to release a digital version of it by Halloween 2024!

I'm trying to work on more prints and stickers for conventions as well and I never posted about my convention escapades here all too much but you can check out this instagram post for what I had up the last time I boothed!

That's kind of all for the stuff I'd like to get done within this year but other projects that I'd like to aim to get done by 2025 is a continuation of my Cute Thing zine that I'm aiming to collate by Valentines Day, hehe how romantic.

There's nothing terribly concrete for that at the moment but I do know I want it to have more pages than Cute Thing. It's called My Boy and yes it's named after another Car Seat Headrest song.

I've got a lot of irons in the fire and another iron is that I'm also planning a 4-panel comic series for my band characters that I've posted some pilots about before!

Pretty messy planning but most of my long form stuff looks like this.

A 4-panel comic series is just less intimidating than a fully coloured webcomic series (Happenstance) that I know will be finished decades later. I've also seen a lot of webcomic artists I've beloved just.. abandon their years long project and it's kind of scary to me that will definitely happen to me!!!

--

The long and short of it is that I've got a lot of projects and a majority of it is not making me any money. I'm extremely lucky to be surrounded by people that support my work but it gets hard to just do all of this by yourself with no guarantee that it'll go anywhere.

Patreon's a beast I've tried to tackle but it's kind of an ass of a website to use so I'll probably try to use ko-fi a bit more. I've kind of never really liked the subscription model and really do prefer to launch curated PDFs of my work every few months, but again I'm really just clawing at the dark and grasping at anything I can.

Let's wrap up this long post by mentioning that I might want to give streaming a shot! I used to stream a little when I was a teenager but I'd like to give it another go!

I don't think I'm going to have a dedicated persona or vtuber avatar but a small little png-tuber would be frankly hilarious. Maybe something casual to start of with, it gets pretty lonely spending everyday working on images alone.

--

Thank you for reading! It's an extremely long post to all but say that I'm scared but working on projects still! If you'd like to support me, here's my ko-fi page and while I'm working on getting more stuff on there here's my itchi.io & gumroad as well.

As I mentioned before I'm closing my commissions on the 6th of October to work on my Abacelsus zine so if you'd like to get a bug or any of my regular style commissions now's a good time to do so!

(Bugstyle | Regular Comms)

I'm hoping to make more update posts like these in the future and not psyche myself out every time because they're really good for me to collect my incredibly jumbled thoughts. Thanks again to everyone who's followed, supported or even just looked at my stuff it really means the world.

If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me about my characters, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be shot towards me email as well: eliotlime@gmail.com

XOXO, Stay weird!

-Eliot :)

[lextheartguy]

My review of The New Gods (2024) #1.

Spoiler free: I know we’re one issue in but I cannot recommend The New Gods enough, it’s already become my favourite comic currently running and I loved literally everything about the first issue, 10/10. It’s so epic and grounded at the same time and characterisation of everyone involved is spot on. It’s also I think a really good jumping on point if you’re not a New Gods fan, Ram V has said that you don’t need any prior knowledge before reading this comic and that really rings true for the first issue. And THE ART!!! Omg Evan Cagle and Jorge Fornés really cooked with the pencils and inks and the colour by Francesco Segala are AMAZING.

Spoiler inclusive/my favourite moments:

Warning I’ve only read it once so far so my thoughts are little more than AAAAH!!!

Metron is such a little shit stirrer as always. And I love this vague ass prophecy. Everything about the beginning showing the grand scale of the New Gods and then contrasting it with the Frees on earth is chefs kiss. It’s also such a good way to kick start the run.

LIGHTRAY!!! This art is stunning in literally every panel but omg he’s so cute. And he’s such a ray of sunshine (literally). All he wants to do is help. Also the choice to make him literally glowing is fantastic.

This whole section with Orion is probably my favourite part art wise (which is really saying something cause again the comic is gorgeous). But Cagles art is so dynamic and full of life I just love it. Also Orion’s design is amazing.

OLIVIA!!!! Cutest baby ever!!!!!!! I will protect her with my life!

Like I said before the way Ram V and Evan Cagle contrast the vast expanse of the universe and the mythic levels of the new gods with the domestic life of the Frees is amazing and so impactful. And Orion being in the background and giving them their time was adorable. (Also this Scott design!!!! AHHHH)

I absolutely adore the way Ram writes them as actual brothers. Their voices and the way they speak with each other has so much more calm and closeness than most of their other appearances ever do. And the way Scott really couldn’t care less about the prophecy until Orion tells him what he has to do, it’s such a perfect characterisation of him!

AHHHH! Again, cannot stress enough what an amazing characterisation of Scott this is. He’s finally found himself at a point where he doesn’t want to escape and he’s forced to leave anyway. I have to also give props for the large print introductions for Scott and Orion, both of which are visually stunning and represent them perfectly. Also the “and you” AHHHHHHH!!!

I know I’m repeating myself but it cannot be stressed enough how lovingly, amazingly, and accurately Ram V is writing these characters. Their voices are PERFECT. Orion not wanting to go through with killing a child so he makes Scott stop him and Scott not wanting to go but not being able to stop himself. “The one thing you can never escape, Mister Miracle, is who you are.” Just kill me now.

MAX??????? What the hell are you doing here???? No but not only am I always happy to see my favourite piece of shit but also I love this. When Max was first introduced he was chasing power and ignoring all empathy because he was being manipulated by a computer created by Metron to gain the knowledge of earth. So I think having him (at least I’m 90% sure it’s him) act out the wills of the gods (whoever it is that’s telling him about the child) is absolutely perfect.

And I could not be more excited. Like I said this is already my favourite comic book running and one of my favourites of all time and we’re one (1) issue in. I’ve already got both the main cover and the Cagle acetate cover ordered through February (wanted to get more but couldn’t financially justify it). The fact that I have to wait another 4 weeks for the next one is criminal. But I urge everyone to go read this!