#it was one of those ‘oh he GETS her’ moments and so incredibly charming

[dathen]

I’m finishing up Northanger Abbey and it really gripped me just how much Catherine and Henry are friends first and foremost, that we get to see this natural supportive relationship rising up between them almost replacing the imagined romance of the earlier part of the story. Catherine’s friendship with Eleanor becomes just as much of a focus, and the three of them together are fantastic. Instead of contrasting a dreadful romantic interest (like Wickham) with an appealing one, the main contrast is between a dreadful flimsy friendship (Isabella) and the friendships Catherine earns by the end. The proposal is practically an afterthought.

I love the yearning and drama of the other Austen books I’ve read, but this book struck me just for the level of grounded heart beneath the gothic whimsy.

[talaok]

Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…

warnings: jelousy

a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request 

It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...

and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face once... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.

But it still wasn't hate

Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits

And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?

"You're staring"

Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you

"I just don't get why he's here"

You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"

"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,

"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"

Yeah right

He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.

You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen 

he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,

and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.

"I saw him look at you before"

This time, you did let out a little snort

"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"

But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you

"I'm sorry to interrupt-"

Then fucking don't

"I just wanted to introduce myself" 

Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior

"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy

"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"

As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists

This fucking guy-

"Hi pal"

Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off

"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"

The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea

"Oh, I didn't know you were married"

Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room

Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much, 

How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?

It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious

"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"

"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him

"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"

Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye

"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"

Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it

He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement

"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"

Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly

"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"

"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder 

You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place

"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement

"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""

Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head

"listen, man-"

"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"

Shawn let out a loud breath before responding

"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"

"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"

You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time

"that was a bit harsh"

Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist

"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked

Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength

"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck

"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing

[nyrandrea]

Everything's Fine

As you try to deal with everything that has been thrown at you so early into your journey: forced leadership, mindflayer tadpoles and taking on everybody's personal problems, it all just gets a bit too much for you.

(Takes place during Act 1)

Word Count - 3.5k

Also available to read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

xxx

You felt your patience starting to wear incredibly thin when you realised Astarion had been staring at you for over five minutes now. 

Not directly, he would never be so conspicuous—at least, not intentionally— but you kept catching those fleeting glances he was throwing your way; the corners of his red eyes crinkling every so often before returning to whatever book he was pretending to read. It wasn’t one of those charming, smouldering gazes he would sometimes give you after a night of feeding, asking if you were alright, knowing full-well that your answer was a resounding ‘I’m fine’, and that you would provide for him again soon. 

No, what he was doing right now—very carefully—was scanning you, studying you,  judging you. It was as if he was trying to leer right through to your very soul. 

You almost had half a mind to stomp over to his tent and demand what his problem was, but there were other unfortunate issues to contend with. 

Namely Shadowheart and Lae'zel. 

“I already told you that the artefact is my responsibility,” Shadowheart said, her aloof demeanour and confident tone betrayed by the hand hovering over the hilt of her dagger. “This way it will protect us all, I thought we had already established that!” 

“We have established nothing,” Lae’zel hissed back. “We only agreed not to slit each other’s throats in the night, though...,” she grimaced. “I still have no reason to trust that you will not try again.” 

“At least there’s still some sense in that bullish head of yours.” 

“Tsk!” Lae’zel spat at Shadowheart’s feet, much to the latter’s disgust as she recoiled back. “However, the matter still stands that the relic you hold onto belongs to my people. Therefore, it should be in my possession!” 

The cleric sneered. “I would sooner slit my own throat.” 

“Then go right ahead. Nobody will stop you.” 

Rubbing at your temples to try and ease the incoming migraine that, for once, was not caused by the mindflayer parasite living rent-free in your head, you decided to step in-between the two women, not really caring about risking a gutting from their trigger-happy blades. 

“C’mon, we’re not seriously having this fight again?” You huff incredulously, the question already sounding stupid as soon as it left your mouth. Because of course they were having this fight again. They had it yesterday, and the day before that, and they were probably going to have it tomorrow as well. 

“We are, as it happens,” Shadowheart replied, her eyes flickering briefly to you before narrowing forward again. “Because this savage bitch won’t leave me alone!” 

Lae’zel bared her teeth in a cruel grin. “Better to be that than a revrykal of Shar.” 

At the mention of her Goddess’s name, Shadowheart practically lunged herself towards Lae’zel with an enraged scream, her dagger raised high with the intention of plunging it straight into the githyanki’s chest, who in turn raised her shield to protect herself. In that moment, you were nothing to them but a speck of dust in the wind. 

It wasn’t until your hand shot up in a blind panic when Shadowheart realised what she was doing, forcing her to suddenly pull back to avoid injuring you, only a moment too late as her knife slashed the palm of your hand. Blood sprayed across the ground as your short but pained cry echoed throughout the camp. 

“Oh Gods...” Shadowheart muttered as everyone was suddenly on their feet and crowded around the three of you in a matter of moments. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t... mean to...!” 

“What? Attempt to kill our leader in cold blood?” Lae’zel muttered as she took your trembling hand to examine it, you only stared ahead as the shock took a moment to wear off. You didn’t even register her uncharacteristically gentle touch as she turned your palm up. “Only a flesh wound, you will live.” 

“Still,” Astarion piped up from behind. “Perhaps it would be best to get that dressed up lest you attract any...*ahem* unsavoury visitors.” 

“It would seem we already have,” Lae’zel replied, to which the vampire put a hand up to his chest in mock offence. 

“Lae’zel, you depreciate me,” he pouted. “I’m hurt.” 

Astarion’s sudden cold grasp on your wrist startled you as he decided to examine the cut himself in a much less gentle manner than Lae’zel. “Not that I would be able to get much from this anyway, even if I tried.” 

You were slightly worried that he was pondering the idea the longer he stared at the wound; you could practically see him drooling. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he snapped out of his daze. 

“Well, we should probably get this cleaned up anyhow,” he finally said. “To avoid infection and whatnot.” 

“...You’re not gonna lick it clean, are you?” Karlach asked with a grimace. 

“Of course not!” Astarion bit back, much more flustered this time. “I’m not some savage beast, you know.” 

“That’s... debatable,” Gale piped in. 

“Well! It’s lovely to know that you all think so little of me; the feeling is very much mutual,” Astarion said with a fake smile before taking you by the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ll have to nurse this poor wounded soul, as well as my pride.” 

He started guiding you away from the rest of the group, you only allowed him to because the whole situation had you in a bit of a daze, but not before Shadowheart tried to get in another “I’m... I’m sorry.” 

“It’s... I’m fine,” you replied with whatever level of composure you could muster up with a smile in a small attempt to reassure her before allowing yourself to be led towards Astarion’s tent. Your words seemed to satisfy her as Shadowheart returned a sorrowful but grateful nod, though her expression turned sour when Karlach stepped between her and Lae’zel. 

“Alright now, ladies, what do you two say we let out our pent-up aggression towards each other in a healthier and less murder-y way, huh?” The tiefling suggested before holding up her finger to not let the other two get a word in edgewise. “And before you ask, I will not be taking no for an answer.” 

A small smile graced your lips at Karlach’s enthusiastic yet surprisingly pragmatic way of taking charge, and it seemed to be working as Shadowheart and—to your utter astonishment—Lae’zel agreed to whatever training regimen she had in store for them.  

‘Perhaps Karlach should take over as leader...’  

The idea was extinguished as soon as it had entered your mind, replaced with thoughts of the tiefling messing everything up, of her killing you in your sleep, that you shouldn’t trust her to lead your party. The only one who should have any authority over these subordinates is you. Only you are worthy. 

The voice quieted down after a few moments, leaving you only with a pounding head—just another one of the many wonderful side-effects of the parasite. 

You didn’t take any heed of whatever thoughts the tadpole forced upon you. You knew that Karlach would never hurt you, or any of the others for that matter—not by choice, anyway. However, those flashes of betrayal and blood were starting to wear you down a bit, especially with the lack of sleep; the very notion of it had been non-existent since you escaped the nautiloid and accepted the leadership that everyone had practically forced upon you. 

You weren’t exactly a natural-born leader; hell, you barely managed to keep yourself alive never mind a whole group of people. 

“That’s going to need stitches,” Astarion said as he observed your hand more closely now that the two of you were in the privacy of his tent. Heat flushed around your cheeks at how close the two of you were. Flashes of that night you had shared a bed—or well, the forest floor—came to mind, and you hated how flustered it made you. It was a one-night stand, a bit of fun to ease the stress of adventuring; clearly it meant nothing. At least... that was what you were made to feel. 

What had been a night of passion for you, had been the same old dance for him. 

“Take a seat there,” Astarion’s said, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a knife. “I should have a needle around here, somewhere.” 

“You know how to sew?” You asked, settling down on a cushioned stool. 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, and a sting of guilt surged in your chest. “How do you think I’ve kept these clothes looking so good for over two hundred years? Certainly not by magic.” 

“Why not just buy new clothes?” 

Your prodding seemed to hit a nerve as he paused for a moment. 

“Why waste the coin?” He finally replied, sounding a little dejected. 

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip as you tried to think of a way to quickly rectify your carelessness. “You do look great, by the way—y-your clothes, I mean,” embarrassment takes over as you trip over your own words. “The gold embroidery is um *cough * it’s nice.” 

Astarion seems amused at your inability to grasp basic English as he chuckles, the sound deep and almost musical. “Why thank you, darling. I’m glad someone around here appreciates the finer details.” 

The vampire kneels next to you and threads the needle before gesturing for you to hold out your hand. “It has been a while so... let’s just hope I’m not too rusty, hm?” 

Those words don’t instil a great deal of confidence within you, but you won’t allow it to show, trusting in him to get the job done. If you ended up getting sepsis, well... Withers was always on stand-by. 

“Now, hold still,” Astarion instructed. “This may sting a little.” 

You nodded, only wincing a little when he made the first stitch, the pain became more bearable as you watched him focus with the kind of laser-like precision that only came with a practiced hand; it made you wonder how many times he had done this. His methodical movements almost lulled you into a sort of relaxed trance, had your mind have not been working overtime, you honestly might have fallen asleep: Gods know you could have done with a bit of shut eye. 

Ever since the ship crashed, your problems just seemed to keep piling on top of each other: Lae’zel was hellbent on getting to that githyanki creche, and there was the matter of Karlach’s engine, Gale was close to blowing to kingdom-come if he didn’t get another magical item to consume soon, Astarion would probably need another feeding at some point, not to mention the dog, Scratch, and the owlbear cub who had started hanging around the camp. A dog was one thing but how much did owlbears need to eat?  

It was fine, you reassured yourself. Everything would be fine. 

“There we go,” Astarion said, relinquishing your hand back, freshly stitched and cleaned. The pain was still there, dull and throbbing, but it wasn’t anything a quick healing spell couldn’t fix. 

“Not my best work but it will just have to do for now,” he huffs, as if he was annoyed with himself. “You’ll have to excuse the sloppy stitching, it’s... been a while.” 

“It’s beautiful work,” you can’t help but admire the stitching; it was flawless. “Thank you, Astarion.” 

His gaze remains on you for a moment, as if he were expecting some sort of quip or punchline, and his eyes widen slightly when he realises you’re being genuine. 

“I... uh... you...?” He pauses and squints; still nothing. “You are... most certainly welcome.” 

You raise an eyebrow; did he really think so lowly of you that he believed you simply weren’t capable of a simple 'thank you'? Or was it himself that he had no confidence in? Your thoughts turn to when you asked him about how he came about becoming a vampire. Astarion kept most of his history closed off from you but told you just enough to let you know that this ‘Cazador’ fellow had treated him poorly. Belittled him. Enslaved him. 

You couldn’t begin to imagine how horrible it must have been; no wonder he didn’t trust anyone. 

A part of you wanted to pry into his thoughts, to let him know that you were here for him should he ever want to talk, but a new figure entered the tent, startling you into closing your mouth. 

“Hello!” Gale cheerily greeted with a smile, his eyes latching onto you immediately. “How are we feeling?” 

“Oh, we’re feeling quite dandy, thank you,” Astarion interjected with a frown. “You didn’t think to knock before deciding just to barge in?” 

“Well, given the materialistic structure of this very sound establishment, I think you’ll find it’s a little difficult to uh...” Gale trailed off, attempting to rap the tent flap to no avail. “...knock on.” 

“Then why not just knock on the wooden beams with that...” The vampire waved lazily towards Gale’s staff. “Very large stick of yours.” 

“Duly noted, but I think we’re getting a bit off track here,” the wizard said before turning to you. “I need a word.” 

You were taken aback slightly by his bluntness, and you couldn’t help but notice the almost pained way he was wringing his hands and how his eyebrows subtly twitched. He looked incredibly... uncomfortable. 

His hand hovered over his chest briefly, just above the mark that glowed whenever he consumed magic. 

Shit. Was it that time already? But hadn’t you given him something only yesterday? Or had it been a few days now? With recent events, it was hard to keep track of the time anymore; day and night just meshed into one big messy blur. 

Judging by your panicked look, Gale held up his hands in a placating manner. “Now, I know you’ve had a lot on your plate recently but this little uh... situation of mine is growing quite dire again so... if you could just relinquish whatever magical artefact you have, then all will be fine and dandy.” 

“I... don’t have anything on me at the moment.” 

Gale’s expression dropped. “Come now, you must have picked up something along the way, surely?” 

You grimaced. 

“In a dungeon? Along the road? What about that little goblin camp you rampaged through recently?” 

His sudden passive-aggressiveness made you feel uneasy. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Astarion cut in, folding his arms. “But we were a bit preoccupied with fighting for our lives to be on the lookout for any magic boots for you to chew on.” 

Gale chuckled dryly and drew the vampire a dirty look. “I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of what might very well happen if I don’t find something to contain the beast within me very soon- “ 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, darling.” 

“This isn’t a joking matter!” 

“Ugh! Just shut up!” You snapped. “I do get it, Gale. Because you remind me Every. Damn. Day. About this big, scary, mystery catastrophe that might happen without actually explaining anything about it! A bit of context would go a long way!” 

Gale’s hurt wince suddenly had your stomach churning in guilt; you shouldn’t be snapping at people; you were better than that. 

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologised. “As soon as we’re out on the road again, I’ll make it our priority to look for an artefact for you, alright? You have my word.” 

Astarion scowled and Gale forced a smile; his lips too strained for it to be genuine. It seemed like you couldn’t please anyone today. 

“That’s all I can ask for, and I promise... all will be revealed soon, otherwise the tadpoles will be the least of our worries.” 

When Gale left, you plopped down to the ground and took ragged breaths to calm your nerves, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt as you nestled your injured hand in your lap. Had Gale only checked in on you so he could ask you for a magic item in return? Was he really that desperate? He must have been, seeing as you had completely forgotten about his predicament. 

What kind of leader were you? 

“You know, you can’t go making promises all willy-nilly like that,” Astarion said. “We have enough problems as it is without having to worry about...” 

His chastising faded into white noise as you grasped your head, the sting of your fingers curling and tugging through unkempt hair was just enough to distract from the pounding that came from within your brain. The ability to focus was suddenly lost to you as your heart raced, and dark emotions swirled within your chest like a wild tornado; it was tempting to let them sweep you away, to ride the waves into the unknown. To be anywhere but here without anyone depending on you for so, so much.  

“Hello?” Astarion drawled. “Are you even listening to- Darling...?” 

He moved closer to you; his steps measured and deliberate as he lowered himself down next to you, still allowing you enough space while being close enough to reach out a hand to your trembling shoulder, his touch cold yet oddly comforting. 

“Hey,” he spoke in a soothing, soft tone, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with unwavering support. “I’m right here with you, you’re safe, just breathe along with me, alright?” 

You nodded, albeit shakily, and tried to mirror his calm, measured breaths, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, attempting to regain control over your racing heart. 

Astarion’s voice never wavered as your frantic gasps slowly started to synchronise with his calm breathing. “I know things are tough right now, but these feelings will soon pass. You’re stronger than you think, darling.” 

He continued to gently rub your back, tracing comforting circles with his fingertips, a rhythm that matched the cadence of your breath. Your hands slowly unlatched from your hair as you felt Astarion’s reassuring presence and honeyed words grounding you. 

“There we go, you’re regaining control,” he encouraged softly. “Now, I’m going to get you a glass of water, will you be alright for a moment?” 

You nodded again, and with a quick squeeze of your shoulder, he left. As your panic attack started to ebb, your breathing evened and your heart slowed as you felt yourself returning to the present moment, the tension that had your body rigid starting to ease. 

Astarion was back by your side within moments, gently pushing a glass into your hand and helping you lift it to your lips for a small sip of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. 

“How do you feel?” 

“I’m-” 

“And don’t you dare say ‘I’m fine’,” he scowled. "Because we both know you’re clearly not.” 

You racked your brain to try and find a way to explain that you were okay and that this was just a small moment of weakness, a blip in the road, that there was nothing to worry about and you had it all figured out. 

But the words never came, instead you draw your knees up and hug them close to your chest as if to hide away from his piercing gaze. 

Astarion lingers by your side for a moment, his expression unreadable. 

“Would you like to stay in here for a while?” 

Unable to find the energy to speak, you simply nod. 

“Then come on, scooch over.” 

As you shuffle slightly to the side, Astarion sits down next to you, draping an arm over your shoulder and allowing you to settle your head into his side and cling to his shirt in a way that a child might cling to their mother. 

“...I’m sorry." 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Astarion’s expression soften as he waved a nonchalant hand. “Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for, dear. If anything, I should be the one apologising, who knew being in my mere presence would be so breathtaking?” 

You managed a small chuckle at that. 

“But in all seriousness,” he continued. “I know a thing or two about putting on a façade and... well...,” he paused. “Just... know that if you ever want to talk, I’m all pointy ears.” 

You hum in acknowledgement, though you can tell by his undertone that he’s being disingenuous, kindness wasn’t exactly his forte after all, but you appreciated the attempt all the same. But you were just content to sit in his arms for a while, and he seemed pleased enough with the silence. So, for now, you inhale the comforting aroma of bergamot, rosemary and brandy, letting yourself get lost in his comforting presence. 

And exhale. 

xxx

Hellooooo Baldur's Gate 3 has me in a chokehold and the brainrot is real. I'm only in Act 1 hence why this fic takes place so early in the game but this idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. Apologies for any inconsistencies :'3 Let me know what y'all think!

*Edit - since this has been pretty well received, I've opened up requests! Pop me an ask if you would like one :)

[misshoneyimhome]

Hey… I was thinking you can do reader x Kniesy… but there’s some smut involved. let’s say reader goes to university of Toronto and has moved in with Kniesy because her roommate was a bitch. One night after Matts comes home from a road trip, he finds reader asleep and bare in their bed with some… toys… next to reader🫣 Matty knows that reader knows to wait for him to pleasure herself but she couldn’t resist and ends up getting punished. thanks babe if you end up writing it!

Oh yes, darling! Of course, we can create some Kniesy smut 🤗💦

There's no better way to end the weekend than our freshman reminding his girl that he's the best she'll ever have - even compared to the toys she can use in his absence 😏

I hope you enjoy this 🤍

Tropes & Warnings; Matthew Knies x reader; established relationship; 18+ smut; masturbating with sex toys (vibrator), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;

Word count: 2.6K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50; @findapenny; @justwanderingbutneverlost; @cixrosie;

➼｡ﾟ

Playing without me? I Matthew Knies

You’d been at the University of Toronto for a few years now, and coming to live with your boyfriend, Matthew Knies, had been a real game changer. Moving in with him had been an easy decision, especially after your previous roommate turned out to be a nightmare. Every day had been filled with annoyance and arguments over the smallest things. Unwashed dishes, loud phone calls in the middle of the night, and a complete disregard for personal space had made your living situation a daily struggle, causing you to spend countless evenings venting to Matthew, who listened patiently and offered his support.

So, when he suggested you could just move into his flat, you quickly accepted. Surely, a part of you wondered if it was too soon in your relationship, but given the situation, it just made sense and felt as natural as breathing. And in the end, the thought of coming home to his warm smile, his reassuring presence, and the comfort of his embrace made the decision an easy one.

Besides, who wouldn’t prefer sharing a flat with their charming, hockey-playing boyfriend? 

Matthew was just everything you’d ever wanted in a partner—kind, thoughtful, and incredibly supportive. Though his schedule with the team meant he was often busy, he always made time for you, ensuring you felt cherished and loved. Your shared moments, whether simple dinners at home or spontaneous adventures around the city, were filled with laughter and affection. So, living with him had only brought a new level of intimacy and connection to your relationship, making you fall even more deeply in love with him every day.

_

For Matthew, it hadn’t really been a tough decision. You were often around anyway, especially with all the troubles you were having with your roommate. Moreover, he saw how stressed you were and wanted to make things easier for you.

Truth be told, he did his best to be an amazing boyfriend. Despite his chaotic and hectic lifestyle as a professional hockey player, he always tried to be great at prioritising your relationship. He always made sure to check in on you, even when he was on the road, as well as invite you to every game possible. 

Everything just made sense with you around, whether it was you casually studying at his dining table while he played NHL video games with his teammates or the two of you having dinner together. Your presence often brought a sense of calm and normalcy to his life, and with your classes scheduled at diverse hours, much like his training, you could often coordinate your schedules. Sometimes, you’d even spend the day at his place, enjoying the quiet to study while he was out. Other times, you had more free time to either prepare dinners or enjoy a lovely lie-in on his off days when you had late classes.

And Matthew loved those lazy mornings the most, waking up next to you, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, and the world outside feeling a million miles away. Those moments were a stark contrast to the fast-paced, high-pressure environment of his hockey career, as you brought balance to his life, grounding him and making everything feel more manageable.

Even his teammates noticed the change in him since you moved in. He was more relaxed, more focused on the ice, and always eager to finish practice so he could rush home to you. They often teased him, of course, but he didn’t mind. He knew most of them understood, at least in part, what it meant to have someone special waiting for him at home.

Matthew just cherished the simple, everyday routines you had come to share - cooking breakfast together, watching movies on the couch, or just sitting in comfortable silence as you both worked on your respective tasks. It was in these moments that he felt most connected to you, and he couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his time off the ice.

Living together had strengthened your bond in ways neither of you had anticipated. The little things, like leaving notes for each other or sharing a quick kiss as you passed by in the kitchen, added up to create a sense of intimacy and partnership that made your relationship feel solid and enduring.

For Matthew, having you around wasn’t just about convenience—it was about having the person he loved most by his side, sharing in the highs and lows, and building a life together. And for you, being with Matthew was a dream come true, a chance to be with someone who understood and supported you in every way possible.

_

However, being accustomed to each other's presence also had its drawbacks. Those moments often arose when he had to embark on a longer road trip.

And tonight was one of those restless nights with Matthew away on a roadie with the team. His absence was always tough, but tonight, the loneliness just hit harder than usual. After watching the game against the Canadiens, you simply couldn’t help but miss his touch, his voice, and the way he made you feel whole.

It was late on a Thursday night, and as you retreated to the bedroom to get some rest, you found yourself lying in bed, Matthew’s scent lingering on the sheets. The longing for him was almost unbearable. Before you’d moved in together, you could go days, even a week, without feeling his body against yours. However, in the short time you’d lived together, you’d grown accustomed to his constant presence and started to crave him even more.

So, as you lay there, unable to fall asleep because you missed him so much, you reached for the box under the bed—the one that held your private collection of toys. You knew Matthew loved to be the one to pleasure you, but the temptation was simply too strong tonight. You needed some release, especially with the images of him on the ice still fresh in your mind.

You started slowly, letting the vibrator delicately glide through your folds as you closed your eyes and imagined Matthew’s face before you. Your lips parted as soft breaths escaped, thinking about the hits he’d taken during the match, the joy on his face after his assist as he hugged Willy, and the sweat pooling on his skin from the intense activity.

You could already feel the arousal build within you as the vibrations sent waves of pleasure through your body. And as you gently pressed the tip of the toy against your entrance, slowly pushing it in and letting it stretch you, you let out a louder moan. Of course, you wished it was Matthew filling you up with his length, but for now, your vibrator would have to do. So, as you carefully moved it in and out of your core, you let your moans flow freely, imagining your boyfriend’s cock while the little two rubber strings touched your clit, adding more vibrations to your sensitive area.

And it didn’t take long before you felt the orgasm build within you, your mind going into a haze as you kept the toy still, letting the vibrations stimulate your clit and push you over the edge. Then with a louder moan of Matthew’s name echoing through your bedroom, you let the orgasm consume you and the high take over.

Hours later, you’d drifted into a deep sleep, satiated but still longing for your boyfriend, with the toys scattered next to you, a testament to your lonely night.

And you were in such a deep sleep that the sound of the door clicking shut didn’t wake you, as Matthew had returned from his trip, exhausted but eager to see you. He tiptoed through the apartment, not wanting to wake you, but as soon as he reached the bedroom, he paused, the sight before him making his heart race and his cock twitch in his boxers.

There you were, sprawled out on the bed, completely bare, with the toys he’d bought you as gifts lying beside you. He could even spot the faint smile on your lips and the flush of your cheeks, and it was clear what you had been up to.

So, uncontrollably, Matthew’s eyes darkened with desire and a hint of something else. You knew the rules, and you had broken them. And despite how much he loved seeing you like this; he was also determined to remind you of your agreement.

So, quietly he then undressed and slid into bed next to you, his hand gently tracing your curves, causing you to slowly stir awake. Your eyes fluttered open to find your boyfriend gazing down at you with a mixture of love and something more intense.

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “Missed me?”

Your breath hitched at the look in his eyes. “Matts, I—”

But he just pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you. “I see you couldn’t wait for me,” Matthew said huskily, glancing pointedly at the toys. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

You nodded, heat already pooling between your legs again as you heard the deep growl in his voice. “I’m sorry, Matts. I just missed you so much.”

But his lips just curled into a knowing smile, a grin as devilish thoughts consumed his mind. “Oh, I missed you too, baby. But you know the rules. Now, I have to remind you why you should always wait for me.”

And then slowly, still wearing a mischievous smirk, Matthew moved over you, his hands skilled and confident as they began to explore your body. His touch was firm yet tender, driving you wild with anticipation, and you could almost feel the punishment in his caresses, a blend of pleasure and restraint that left you aching for more.

Matthew’s lips found yours in a searing kiss, his hands working magic on your skin as he made sure to squeeze each breast with equal care. But he also took his time, making sure you felt every ounce of his longing and control.

And it was working. As he moved his lips and hands around, each moment only giving you a taste of what he could truly provide, you felt it as almost torturous, causing you to let out a small whine.

“Matts, please,” you softly cried into the kiss, and Matthew knew exactly where he had you. You were completely under his control, and he was definitely going to take advantage of it.

“Hmm,” he growled once more. “So, you think you deserve it?”

You could only nod to such a question. So, Matthew then slowly moved away from hovering over you, kneeling by your ankles instead, before he took a firm grip of your hips and, with his great strength, flipped you onto your stomach.

Though you couldn’t see his handsome face, you knew he was smirking. Matthew loved your buttocks; to watch it, to feel it, whether bare or clothed, his hand always found your cheeks. And tonight, he wanted to get a little closer, to remind you that he was far better than any toy you could please yourself with.

So, placing his large palms on your hips, he then pulled your bum into the air, causing you to gasp lightly as he parted your legs a little more. Your head rested on the pillow beneath you, your hands already prepared to grip the sheets as you had a hunch of what was about to come.

“Matts,” you let out a deep breath, but there was no need for a response. Instead, you suddenly felt his hot mouth on your folds, licking you from behind as he explored your heat, while his hands held a firm grip on your cheeks. “Fuck…” you gasped, the pleasure quickly stirring within you as you were still rather stimulated from your earlier actions.

But Matthew simply hummed into your core, sending more pleasurable vibrations through you, causing a shiver down your spine.

It was no secret that he was more than talented with his mouth, his pouty lips alone exuding nothing but raw sex appeal. Every time you watched him on TV, as the camera drew in closer, your eyes would always be captured by how gorgeous his lips looked. Probably several orgasms were caused by the mere imagination of his lips, yet you were the only one to actually feel them.

And when Matthew then added a hand to the mix, lightly circling your clit while his mouth worked your folds and sensitive flesh, you couldn’t help but moan deeply into the pillow beneath you.

“Shit… Matts,” you cried aloud, though muffled by the sheets. It simply felt so good. His mouth and hand were causing nothing but pure bliss as he stimulated your centre, your fingers gripping tightly onto the sheets as the arousal took over.

You could almost feel your juices trickling from your cunt, mingling with his saliva as he ate you out as if it were his last meal on earth. And soon, you felt your thighs trembling, every muscle clenching as he brought you closer to an intense orgasm.

"Yes… Oh, fucking hell yes… M-Matts… I’m coming," you almost shouted into the pillow, gently rocking your hips as the rush consumed you, ecstasy flooding your mind as you reached your peak.

It was nothing short of incredible as euphoria swept over you. And as you slowly began to come down from the high, Matthew softly withdrew from your heat, strings of saliva connected from his lips to yours, then licking his lips as he savoured the sight before him. It was everything he had aimed for, seeing how you were almost unable to keep your senses together solely from the pleasure he gave you. Needless to say, his cock was needy and twitching in desperate need of release. And since he had already made sure to remind you of his skills, he felt confident in pursuing his own pleasure.

By the time he finally entered you, you were flipped back onto your back and turned into nothing but a trembling mess, completely at his mercy. Your core was sensitive, overstimulated not only by the vibrator, but also by the expert attentions of your incredibly skilled boyfriend’s mouth. And now, your earlier fantasies were coming true as you finally felt his length inside you, massaging your walls with every thrust, hitting your g-spot, and sending you into another high as Matthew pounded you mercilessly. His force created loud smacks of skin meeting skin, your moans even louder reverberating through the room, likely audible to your neighbours. But you didn’t care. You were simply overwhelmed, relishing the intense sensation, as you and Matthew climaxed together and he filled you with his seed, making sure to mark you as his.

The night was simply a whirlwind of intense pleasure and whispered promises, as Matthew ensured you knew just how much he had missed you and stressed the importance of following the rules. And as the sun began to rise, you lay in his arms, exhausted but completely content.

Despite the passionate desires and heated lovemaking that filled the night, he always made sure to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, a tender gesture that filled your heart with warmth as he pulled you close for a cuddle. "Next time, wait for me," he whispered.

You couldn’t help but smile, nestling into his broad, muscular chest as you looked up at him. “I will, Matts. I promise.”

With Matthew back beside you, you felt confident you could endure any loneliness the world threw your way. After all, nothing compared to the love and connection you shared with him.

[bitter-me]

Alice in Wonderland

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"Once upon a time...."

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The first Alice walked through the land of Teyvat. Bravely with a sword in her hand, she sliced everything and anything that dared crossed her, leaving chaos in her red bloody path. She was feared and respected by all.

The people will remember her wrath, her cruel smile, her self-centered attitude, and most importantly the sword on her hand.

Who could ever forget someone like that? Someone who sparks fear on others? The very mention of her name brought the high and mighty shaking on their knees. Everyone would always try their absolute best to stay on her good side or else... her sword would be the last thing you'll see. They would praise her, give her offerings and gifts, the lengths of what they would do to stay on her good side...

Through her might and unyielding wrath, she traveled far through her journey. But soon... her wrong doings came right back at her..

She stray too far and lost her way. Giving in to all her sins. Much like the gruesome path that she forged with her hands. Still....

Her life remains a mystery till this very day.

.

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.

The second Alice was a tame and tender gentleman.

He helped those in need, he never lost his temper, he never talked bad about others, he's incredibly patient; a kind soul.

Such an enormous contrast with the first Alice.

The people would remember his kindness, his merciful acts, his pacifist route. In return for his deeds they would give him something in return despite how the man seemed uncertain of the gifts, claiming that "there's no need for such things."

What a kind soul... he can't even take a gift without feeling conflicted and guilty...

But of course.... you can't be kind to all.... sometimes kindness and mercy isn't the option...

Madness took ahold of him, shoot him dead to the ground. Blood stained the roses to a bright and somber red. Once loved and enjoyed by all, the man was left for dead

.

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The third Alice was a lovely girl.

Beautiful, the girl was born into a life so grand. She charmed all the people to her beck and call. How could they resist such a charming young lady? Her smile is as bright as the sun, and her beauty rivals those of a goddess.

Through her charms she created a kingdom, an empire that would rise above them all! This Alice was then crowned turned into a Queen. Ruling all the people there... she lost herself in a crazy dream..

Previously a carefree girl, suddenly has the weight of a whole kingdom on her shoulders.. she must have gone insane by the sudden shift in power and responsibilities. Suddenly she's been made all aware of the things that didn't crossed her mind since the beginning. So afraid of death, the girl was mindless and warped.

The people would remember her beauty and charm.

Once a gorgeous ruler, now she's just an ugly corpse.

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.

"So... what do you think?"

"...."

"What's with the silence, Alice?"

The man studied the other's expression before letting out a chuckle as he understood what he's thinking at that very moment. It was rather obvious. "Maybe I should start the next one~?"

"The fourth Alice was a pair of siblings who are twins. Straying into Teyvat—" "Shut up."

The man stopped as he glanced back at the man who stopped him with his story. "Oh? You don't want your story to be told? Your name echoes in their tales and songs?"

"You're telling a story of the past... this is not the past.. I—we—"

"Oh ho ho! Don't get ahead of yourself there, Alice~ You've fallen into this wonderland called Teyvat for how long now? 500 years? And now you're saying that? Don't make me laugh!"

"You two are staying here."

"Until we the Heavenly Principle say so."

"Until I say so."

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M. Reader as the Creator

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"Now... how will your story end, Alice~?"

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[withahappyrefrain]

this one is so cute! 🍂🍁🍃

A stands in a queue when they notice a leaf stuck in the hair/on the clothes of the person in front of them. They offer to remove it for them.

for bob and maeve?

AHHHH so excited to start writing for these two! And of course I had to bring in Bradley and Birdie! ❤️❤️ Enjoy!

Fall in San Diego was different. By the time October started rolling, the average temperature had cooled down to a ‘crisp’ seventy degrees. Chunky sweaters were traded in for light cardigans. Sure, you could wear a scarf, but not a functional one. Gone were the days of needing gloves.

It was a stark difference from the east coast.

Gone was the scenic view of mountains and orchards. In its place were micro-breweries and overpriced wineries. But also gone was a shitty ex husband. In its place, the unknown.

At least the farmer markets here still sold apple butter.

It was a consolidation prize for Maeve. She was forever grateful that Nora wanted to show her around, but that also meant third wheeling for Nora and her fiancé. Worse, they were sickeningly in love. She had never been so happy for her best friend, but also so fucking jealous at the same time.

So she would enjoy these last few moments, while Nora was trying to find her partner amidst the crowd. They tried to not make her feel bad, but being around them reminded Maeve how alone she had become.

Wait, did that guy have a leaf on his back?

Upon squinting her hazel eyes, she saw that man standing in front of her did in fact, have a leaf on the back of his plaid shirt.

Should she- oh thank God, he was reaching for it. Now Maeve wouldn't have to look at it while standing in line.

Nope. Despite his long arms, the leaf had wedged itself in a place where he couldn't reach. Oh God, was she going to have to watch him struggle the whole time?

Wanting to save her sanity outweighed her dislike of talking to strangers.

"I can get it for you, the leaf. If you want?"

He turned around to reveal a face that made her heart flutter. Bright blue eyes, bluer than the ocean. Tortoiseshell glasses that framed his face. Sunkissed hair, tousled in waves. A button nose that brought a sense of sweetness to him. A smattering of faded freckles, no doubt from hours upon hours of being out in the sun.

"Could you? That would be great, otherwise it's gonna bother me all day?" His voice was smooth as whiskey, a rural upbringing lacing his words.

But what was most astounding was his smile. The way his thin pink lips contorted to form a small, slightly crooked smile. The creases that formed around his oceanic eyes, showing years of smiles and laughter.

God, he just looked kind. The type that Maeve always wondered what it would be like to have. To see first thing in the morning and the last thing when she closed her eyes at night.

"M'am?" It didn't come across as condescending, it was actually charming. It was also said in such a deep vibrato that Maeve to snap out of whatever the fuck those last two minutes was.

It's been three months, for fuck sake's Maeve.

Why would he even be interested in you?

This is why you're a twenty-eight year old divorceé.

Maeve nodded as she mentally scolded herself, "Absolutely, not a problem."

Bob turned around, despite not wanting to. He would rather focus on the umber curls that framed her face. Or the way shades of hickory and green swirled together in her eyes. His favorite had to be how her eyes squinted when she smiled. His mother would call that as having 'smiley eyes' when he was a child.

Jesus Christ, we're really desperate now.

It wouldn't end well for you anyways. Never does.

That's why you're thirty-four and still single, Robert.

So in a way, he was grateful to turn around, as it was a chance to get himself together.

That lasted for maybe ten seconds. Bob couldn't tell if touch was incredibly gentle or if she wasn't touching him. So he turned his head, catching her reaching out.

The eye contact made Maeve freeze for a beat or two. Once Bob flashed her that sweet smile, she found the strength to continue, internally marveling at how soft his shirt felt.

He must use fabric softener. Maybe he attends this market regularly. Maybe-

It's been three months.

Yes, three months since the document was signed and it was made official legally. But the acceptance of a unsustainable marriage had occured a year ago.

She held up the leaf for effect, "You want to keep it as memorabilia?"

Bob chuckled, making Maeve feel warm all over, as if she had just drank mulled cider, "No, no, I think I'm good. But I'd love to buy that for you as a way to say thanks."

This time it was her turn to shake her head, "Oh, it was nothing! Just a leaf." Bob noticed that when she shook her head, the curls that had fallen over his forehead shook slightly.

God, she was adorable. Absolutely, completely endearing.

"Yeah, but that would have bothered me the whole time I was with my friends. I wouldn't have been able to focus on anything else," he grinned, "Plus you had no issue talking to a complete stranger. That's gotta be commended."

A laugh escapes from her rosey lips, "I usually hate talking to strangers." Fuck, why would you even say that?

If he found it odd, the handsome stranger didn't visibly or vocally show it, "Yeah, I'm not a huge fan of that either. Again, gotta be commended."

She looked down at the jar of apple butter, "It would be faster if you paid for mine. I'm meeting some friends too."

"Happy to serve," the unintentional pun about his career was lost on her. At least he could bring it up to Mickey, who would get a good laugh out of it. And his wife Cielo too. And then they would probably do something sweet, like kiss while holding hands, unintentionally reminding Bob how utterly alone it felt coming home from work every day.

Their hands brushed against one another when Maeve transferred the jar to Bob. He turned around, partly to see if he needed to step forward, partly to hide the smile on his face.

Had he turned around, he would have seen the same smile on her face. One that was full of excitement, felt for the first time in years. Just like him.

Eventually, he looked back, this time mainly to see if his friends were amidst the crowd of shoppers.

He felt the need to explain, out of fear of coming across as creepy, "My friend went looking for his fiancé. She's bringing her best friend."

What a coincidence, Nora's fiancé was bringing a friend too.

Yeah, to help you feel less shitty about always being their third wheel.

"Well does your friend have any idea where his fiancé could be?" Maeve asked as Bob paid for the two jars of apple butter.

"Oh yeah, Birdie's first stop is always the Takyaki stand," Bob paused, "Birdie isn't her real name, it's just-"

"Do you mean Nora?" Maeve's voice was now timid. Blood rushing through her veins, wondering if it was too good to be true.

Bob stopped in his tracks, brows knitting together, "How do you know her name?"

Before Maeve could explain, two new voices interrupted.

"Bob?" "Maeve?"

Turning around revealed Nora (who many referred to as 'Birdie'), who was holding the hand of her fiancé, Bradley (who at work was referred to as 'Rooster').

Bob and Maeve turned their attention back to one another, realization hitting like a brick wall.

He's the kindest guy I know. You'll love him.

She's honestly just the sweetest. It's a damn shame what happened.

They're like you. They've been through similar shit.

"You're Maeve?" He had a long finger pointed at her (God his hands were huge) but it wasn't accusing.

Maeve felt at ease, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she nodded, her eyes creasing due to her smile.

There were those smiley eyes that made his knees weak.

"I am and you're Bob? Just Bob, right? No totally random, work nickname?" With anyone else, it would have been demeaning. A few years ago, Bob would have taken offense.

But his shoulders were feeling lighter these days thanks to the past actually staying in its namesake more often.

"Well, my full name is Robert. I have some family who call me Rob, some call me Robby but that's because I gave them explicit permission to do so, not everyone reaches that level. And then some of my friends call me Bobby. So in terms of work nickname, you're correct, it's not totally random." His eyes were so expressive, it was memorizing to watch.

Charming. He was actually charming.

"Well, I think having multiple nicknames that are based off of your actual name is better than having one and it's a children's game or bird," she turned her head to flash a smile, "No offense Bradley."

Bradley, who was used to her strong opinions on call signs and now only a foot away, simply rolled his eyes, "No offense taken Maeve. But we do call him Bagman, remember?"

A coy smile spread across her face, something Bob found so endearing.

"So you two....know each other?" Nora asked, raising an eyebrow. She swears she would have remembered her best friend meeting one of her fiancé's best work friends.

"We actually just met. Maeve saved me from an afternoon of trying to reach a spot on my back to get rid of a leaf," Bob explained, gently putting his hand on Maeve's shoulder. His touch was pleasant, considerate even.

"Bob got me some apple butter as a thank you," Maeve held up the jar while looking down, hoping no one would notice the rosy hue that was spreading across her face.

"Which, I assume is to make your famous cinnamon sugar apple butter pie?" Bob now turned to her, his eyes lit up with excitement.

Catching her confused expression, Bob jumped in, "When you left a pie after visiting Birdie, Bradley brought in leftovers. It was a huge hit, I still think about it."

Charlie always had an issue with whatever she cooked. Too salty. Not healthy babe. Why are you even making that?

But Charlie wasn't here. He was on the east coast, no doubt trying to find another gullible person to invest in one of his bullshit 'ideas'.

Instead there was Bob, who had a sparkle in his eyes. Who had not only heard about you, but remembered details too.

God, the bar was so fucking low.

Meanwhile, Bob hadn't thought about Cassie once since meeting the curly, raven haired woman with the most adorable smile he had ever seen.

"Well, given the lack of a paper bag in Nora's hand, I'd say it's time we head to the Hog Haven stand and get some breakfast sandwiches," Maeve suggested, hoping it would turn the attention away from her.

"Absolutely! I know Bob wanted to stop by the pickling stand for Sauerkraut and that's on the way!" Nora grabbed Bradley's hand, and walked forward, leaving Bob and Maeve to walk side by side.

Almost as if it was planned that way.

"What's the Sauerkraut for?" Maeve asked, secretly noticing how he slowed his stride to match hers.

"I'm making Bigos. It means 'Hunter Stew' in Polish. My mom made it for me and my siblings all the time growing up. She's back in Wisconsin, and since it's finally 'cooled down' here, figured it was a good time to make it."

Bob can't remember the last time he felt this talkative to someone new. Usually it takes hours, sometimes even multiple outings for him to warm up. And that was if he liked the person's company.

It took him two months to warm up to Jake.

But something about Maeve had him talking a mile a minute. Even Bradley had turned around to raise his eyebrows at how much Bob was talking. He had to be careful; the last thing he needed was to be in the same situation he was in six years ago.

"I'm not super familiar with Polish food- other than bagels and pierogi's- but I'd like to learn more about it," her voice was sweet, albeit slightly reserved. Not wanting to appear too eager, or insinuate anything.

"I have a whole box of recipes from my mom and Aunts and Grandma. I can bring it next time-" He paused. No, don't assume. Never assume. "I can pass it on to Bradley who can give it to Birdie. Whichever you prefer."

"We can leave y'all to talk to each other if you want!" Bradley called out before turning his attention back to Nora.

"I have a feeling this won't be the last time we see each other. Not if those two lovebirds have anything to say about it." Her comment brought out a laugh in Bob, which in turn caused a big smile to break out across Maeve's face.

"Glad I'm not the only one who calls them that. Everyone else says it's too cheesy." "Well, those people have no love or appreciation for puns. Luckily for you Robby, I do."

He didn't correct her. In fact, he liked how the name sounded coming from her pink lips.

"Maybe we can keep talking about puns and recipes while they," Bob pointed to Bradley and Nora, who were currently holding hands and exchanging (what they thought to be) sneaky kisses, "Are themselves."

"So they act this way around you too?" Maeve's eyes lit up, relieved she wasn't the only one who had to deal with the most sickeningly sweet couple on the planet, "Being a third wheel with them is rough."

The two had now stopped at the pickles goods stand, ignoring their friends who had invited them out.

"I think it's going well! I never saw her smile this much with Charlie," Nora whispered excitedly, unable to take her green eyes off of Maeve and Bob.

"I'd say so," Bradley looked at Nora, not needing to see that his friend was talking to Maeve with a gleam in his blue eyes, a rare sight, "You know it's not going to happen overnight, right?"

"I'm aware. But I think they're off to a good start," Nora grinned. The sight of her best friend, looking the happiest she's seen in the past year, kept her bounce on her toes.

Bob and Maeve were indeed, off to a good start.

[mothiir]

any lewd and non lewd hcs for the morunival boys we can chew on from you mothiir :3????

let’s start off with pre-heresy, when they are all still horus’s boys, and have no real idea of the horrors the universe holds. cw for slight lewdness:

Sharing with each other. The gang are battle-brothers, and would give their lives for each other - none of them would think twice about sharing their woman. Little Horus and Gavriel will happily offer you up without any prompting — Little Horus mainly because it turns him on to see his brothers enjoy you, while Gavriel wants to share the warmth and affection you’ve brought to his life with them (and, yes, because the thought of seeing you split open on another Luna Wolf’s prick does things to him.) Abaddon and Tarik won’t just bring you home like a brilliant new toy, but should one of the other Mournival members expresses an interest they won’t dissuade them — they’ll encourage you to flirt, to sit on the Astartes in question’s knee, to brush his hair, and rub his shoulders. It’s all a fun flirtatious game, seeing how far they can bait their brother before he seizes you up and begs to just have a taste.

And if you’re not interested in being shared? Tarik will take it in stride, though he will be disappointed, and it might cause a bit of friction with his brothers. Abaddon will try and convince you, but if you’re adamant about it he’ll back off. Gavriel will pout, and make it into a massive joke — you’ll find yourself subject to a range of pranks that run the gamut from actually quite funny to outright humiliating. Around the fourth or fifth time you’re screaming at him because all his brothers saw you naked again because your clothes mysteriously vanished while you bathed again, he might realise that oh you were serious about that. Alternatively, you might find his persistence charming and give it a go. Little Horus takes after his father, in every way — including the bad ones — and so he will respond to your no with the greatest campaign of gaslighting Terra has seen since the Emperor was trying to convince Erda that no he did not owe her child support. He’ll muse about how his brothers really do miss out on having the soft touch of a human woman, he’ll purr in your ear about how precious you are, and how selfish he feels to keep you to himself; he’ll probably ask you how you feel about being shared again, after a month or so of this treatment, after he’s eaten you out so well that you’re pretty sure you saw the face of divinity.

To a greater or lesser extent, all have inherited Horus’s breeding kink. Don’t bother wasting money on condoms — even if you find any large enough for them, they will find any excuse not to wear them. You need to find yourself some pretty industrial strength birth control. None of them will want to cum on your face or your tits when they can cum inside — if they do end up giving you a facial, you’ll find yourself with fingers shoved in your mouth as a very serious Luna Wolf tells you that no, his cum belongs inside. Now swallow. And stop complaining about the taste, the nutrient gunk they eat has to be high in protein to keep them battle ready.

Location: Little Horus will want to fuck you in front of a mirror; Abaddon likes having you in his room, where he can have a tiny moment away from his endless responsibility. Gavriel likes fucking you where you might get caught, because the thrill gets him off; Tarik thinks that this is incredibly childish, and will fuck you in the armoury, as any good Astartes would.

Horus — look, you can’t fuck a member of the Mournival without Horus getting involved somehow. He’s their father and their god and their bright shining sun. Abaddon and Little Horus fuck him on the regular, and any relationship with either (or both) of those two will inevitably involve a very awkward conversation along the lines of, “So are you okay with having a threesome with my genefather and me?” You can say no, of course, but why would you? Gavriel and Tarik have also bedded Horus, and enjoyed it, but they would respond more favourably to a request for monogamy, even though they would be very confused by the idea of anyone not wanting to fuck horus.

[shiningshenanigans]

If I had a nickle…

For every time I shipped a guy and a girl…

Where the guy comes from a semi-privileged background and stable home life (albeit with a very dysfunctional family who is kinda mean to him)…

and the girl is a scavenger who has been fighting to survive her whole life because of a totalitarian regime…

and they’re forced into a situation where they have to work together and kinda start getting attached to each other…

and the guy is HOPELESSLY head-over-heals besotted and in love with the girl and, like, doesn’t even try to hide it… 

and the girl… kinda likes him back? But like it’s hard to tell? Because like I said, Girl has been fighting to survive her whole life, and is still very much in survival mode, and her fight-or-flight response is so through the roof right now it’s hard for her to feel that way about anyone at the moment…

also there’s kind of a rebellion/revolution going on against the totalitarian regime I mentioned earlier, and Girl is very focused on killing The Leader of said totalitarian regime, so romance is kinda the last thing on her mind…

but also their love is like this weird powerful force that’s fueling said rebellion, so she can’t really get away from it?

And she acts super cold and indifferent toward him but the second he’s in any kind of danger she immediately throws herself under the bus to save him…

(by the way they balance each other out really well, because Guy is not really much of a fighter, but he’s super charming and good at negotiating with people so he helps Girl grow in that area, cause she’s really bad at it)…

and they’re being mentored by a slightly cynical middle-aged man who “loves a good drink”…

(who totally has a crush on his cute-but-brainwashed-by-the-badguys female superior)…

oh yeah and remember The Leader of the totalitarian regime I mentioned earlier? He’s, like, weirdly invested in their love story and has been watching it unfold this whole time…

(and we don’t really know why he’s so obsessed with them, other then that they remind him of a situationship he was in ages ago, which ended really badly because he was paranoid, so now he’s living vicariously through them while at the same time scrambling to maintain the fragile power of his regime or something like that)…

and he keeps using his power to make them play weird games where he constantly tries to pit them against each other and get one of them to kill the other… 

(he actually does almost brainwash the guy into killing the girl at some point, but Guy wakes up and is like “Naw man, I’m in love with her, I will endure endless psychological torture before I do that.”)

and don’t forget, “This series is actually incredibly profound and thought-provoking and has some really deep things to say about freedom and government control and the value of human life, but for some reason nobody wants to talk about those things because all they care about is shipping drama (even though shipping should be a non-issue because the narrative makes it 100% clear who the cannon romance is)…”

…I’d have two nickels.

Say it with me kids…

[grandadtwelve]

nuwho doctors ranked by fuckability (extremely subjective, inspired by several voice memos between a friend and myself at 2am, with full understanding that being the doctor implies a preestablished unfuckability):

1. tenteen/tenthree/fourteen

poses the question what if the tenth doctor was less annoying, more grown, and gayer. the answer to the question is let me take you out please please please just one chance please whatever you want babygirl I’m begging please you’re so responsible and youre working on your commitment issues and that’s soooo hot please

2. ninth doctor

deep in the trenches of his post-war trauma and blatantly in love w his best friend but also. why does he cruise. look at him he’d cruise a little bit. idk babe I cannot explain it to you I just think he’d let me blow him a little in the alley behind some alien club and then I’d never see him again. yeah he was thinking about jack/rose the whole time and then felt so guilty he left w out saying anything but it was still kinda …

3. thirteenth doctor

ok I know this is actually insane but what if I could fix her. I know this is because I’ve read way too many fics where she uses physical intimacy to compensate for being unable to give or receive verbal comfort from her loved ones and also I think jodie is hot but . what if

4. twelfth doctor

probably the doctor I’m most physically/emotionally attracted to but also he’s kind of busy. like between clara and river and missy his relationship dossier is kinda full and I’m like not needing to get in the middle of all that, nor do I think he has the desire to do more than he’s already doing. if he wants to have a little flirty thing like he did with psy though I would be alllll over that.

5. fifteenth doctor

OBJECTIVELY the most fuckable doctor. however subjectively. we are two drunk girls making out in the club like we’re having fun but this is not doing it for either of us. we are best friends and fully recognize how hot we both are but this is three minutes of kissing and grinding and then “omg….. we’re so crazzyyyyy….. that was so silllyyyyyy…..”

6. tenth doctor

yes he’s pretty but girl SHUTTTT UUUUPPPPP. one of those times where someone hot knows they’re hot and instead of it being a “confidence is sexy” moment you just want to slam a door in their face. I say all this fully aware that if he flirted w me the way he flirts with martha in “smith and jones” I would fold in an instant but I do not care. I know too much. Go pine and leave me alone.

7. eleventh doctor

listen this is not about matt smith ok i think matt smith is incredibly sexy and charming and all of those things ok. but like. absolutely not. oh my god no. no no way. the physics wouldn’t allow it the idea of even touching his bare skin above the wrist is awful.

[ramp-it-up]

What’s This?

Paring: Henry Cavill x Actress Reader x Sebastian Stan

Word count: 1 K

Summary: Halloween or Christmas? Why not both?

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, RPF. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Flirting, suggestive language, definite praise kink,  drinking, slapping (and liking it), propositioning, finger fucking in public, implied threesome. 

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You were at your hotel bar after the awards show, savoring your Macallans 18, with Henry’s deep baritone British drawl in your ear. You didn’t know Superman had game like this.

“What he doesn’t know about, he doesn’t need to know about. You said yourself, you two are not that serious. It’s just fun. Why can’t you have some fun with me, Love?”

“What kind of fun are you talking about?”

You took a slow sip of your whiskey and snaked your tongue out to collect stray liquid. Henry’s eyes followed every movement, taking in your glowing skin, the deep pools of your eyes, and those moist, juicy lips. He had to have you.

“Let’s cut to the chase. I want you. You are beautiful, charming, intelligent, and one of the best actors I’ve ever witnessed on screen. In every room where we have the fortune to be put together in, I’m inexplicably drawn to you. And I wonder…”

Henry stopped speaking and put his hand on your bare knee, your leg as smooth as velvet beneath the hem of your short couture dress.

You took another sip of your drink and slapped Henry.

A couple looked over at you two from across the dark, almost empty bar. The bartender minded his own business. And Henry, well Henry just smiled a cheshire grin and stared at you with those blue blue eyes. He wanted more of that spirit.

“You are being very forward, Mr. Cavill. What makes you think that I want to get down on my knees and suck that rumored very fat dick and let you cum all over my tits?”

You cocked your head like it was a real question.

Henry’s eyes dilated and he moved closer to you. He could bend you over the bar at that moment, but he had to restrain himself, and the monster that was awakened in his pants. You were so fucking hot.

Oh yeah, you were ready to get down, wanting to touch, feel and taste the dark hair that was curling from the shirt that he was wearing. You were about to invite him up to your room when you heard Seb’s voice behind you.

“What’s this?”

Henry looked up and grinned again as Sebastian ordered.

“Another Macallans for the lady, and one for me too.”

You turned toward your boyfriend and let him kiss you on your cheek. He whispered, “Naughty girl,” and bit your ear lightly.

You shivered as you cut your eyes back over to your other companion.

“Sebastian, you know Henry? Henry, Sebastian.”

Sebastian received his drink,

“Oh, Henry and I go waaayyy back, don’t we?”

Henry smiled again and looked at you. 

“Yes, we have similar tastes in…. Well, in lots of things.”

Sebastian finished the explanation, moving as close to you as Henry was on the other side of you.

“And we have shared…. Our ….thoughts on those things.”

The silence was full of meaning. 

Henry and Seb looked at each other over your head as you dipped yours to drink and ponder, and Henry put his hand on your thigh again. Sebastian put his hand on your other thigh and pulled it apart from the other, so as to enable both he and Henry to move their fingers higher.

You shivered, and opened your legs even wider. Sebastian kissed your temple.

“Such a good girl. Henry, don’t you think so?”

Henry looked down at your dress, which currently showcased your rock hard nipples. His voice was incredibly deep, and broken because he’d reached the wetness seeping down your thigh. You sighed as his fingers reached your folds. You whimpered when Sebastian’s mirrored his on the other side.

“Yes, I think we’ll find her to be a very good girl for both of us tonight? Right?”

Henry slipped his fingers into your wetness, exploring your innermost parts. Sebastian had you memorized and went directly and smoothly into circling your hole while Henry traced your clit.

You moaned a little and looked around. To anyone, you would look like three very close friends having a quiet conversation. No one knew that you were silently screaming for them both to fuck you in all of your holes.

Henry called to the bartender. 

“Another for the lady.” 

The bartender nodded as you thought of how much more fun you would be with three drinks in you. You smiled at your luck.

“So. Speaking of taste, d’you remember the debate we had with Tim Burton in Cannes?”

You couldn’t believe they were talking business while they defiled you in public. But you dared not speak a word lest you start moaning.

Henry pressed more roughly on your clit as Sebastian slipped another finger inside you and started fucking you with them right there at the bar. You couldn’t look at the bartender as he set your drink down and quickly moved away again.

“Drink, Darling.”

Sebastian commanded you with a stern whisper in your ear. You nodded, took a gulp, and then held on the the bar for dear life as they had their way and pretended it wasn’t happening.

“Yes, Henry, I remember it well. He verified what everyone else but you knows: The Nightmare Before Christmas is a Halloween movie.”

You looked at Sebastian in disbelief. He crooked his fingers inside you, finished his drink, and then watched as you trembled, trying to keep it together.

“Finish up the drink I bought you, Love. Don’t be rude.”

You drank some more as Henry pinched your clit. You let out an eep from the sensation, and both men gave you stern looks. Then ignored you again.

Except for them ruining you in a place of business.

“Mate,” Henry shook his head. “The climax of the story happens on Christmas Eve. It’s a Christmas movie!”

The debate became more vigorous as they became more vigorous with you. Sebastian was finger fucking you, digits in all available holes and crevices, and Henry was abusing your clit as much as he could in the available space that he had.

“It takes place in HALLOWEENTOWN!”

“But, it’s about how Halloween characters would celebrate Christmas.”

“There are three separate songs that are anti-Christmas, man.”

You felt like Superman or Bucky Barnes, and as if you could break the bar in half with the force of your orgasm. But, you managed to not make a sound.

“Beautiful girl.”

“So good for us, you precious Angel.”

You watched both men suck your juices off your fingers.

You stood up from your stool and downed the rest of your drink.

“I don’t care what you say, The Nightmare Before Christmas works for Christmas and Halloween. It can be both at once.”

They both grinned at you like the cads they were. 

“Speaking of both. At once. Let’s go up to my room and continue this discussion.”

Henry hurriedly laid down cash for the drinks as Sebastian adjusted his pants. 

Tonight was going to be a good night.

For all.

If you liked it and you know it, hit reblog! 👏🏽👏🏽

[nrdmssgs]

Alex Keller meeting civilian reader scenario

Masterlist

Ok, so I'm well aware, that Farah exists, and I respect all those, who ship her with Alex. She is the queen, hands down. But I wanted to do a series of “COD men meeting civilian reader”, so sorry guys, this time you, readers, get him. The reader is just a small nervous overthinker here. So that's where all this "veterans" stuff comes from. I usually bear an AFAB reader in mind, but, I think, I've made no specific allusions to the gender of the reader here.

You didn't like this whole idea from the start. From the very moment, when a friend of yours paused from laughing on your joke and turned to her spouse.

"Babe, you know, who has a tad similar sense of humor? Alex does..." - yeah, that "Alex does" didn't sound good to you. This wasn't the first time these two had tried to end your quiet single life by introducing you to someone.

"Alex?" - you tensed up.

"Yeah Alex. He is a friend. A good lad.", they both grinned at you. "Good lad" was a very bad sign. A sign that this "good lad" was only a few minutes apart from getting your number from your friends.

"No. I'm done with this. The last time was... THE LAST EVER!", you really were hoping, you would convince these two to leave your single ass alone in your happy hiatus. The last guy they tried to set you up with turned out to be a disaster!

"I promise, it's not like that this time! He is funny, has a charming personality, absolutely your type, I think you even have the same tastes in music, if I remember correctly" - your friend started rambling.

And just when you were about to interrupt her with a reminder that you are too old to date guys based on the same taste in music, her husband added 4 words that made you stumble.

"He is a veteran."

Now that was a problem...

No, you didn't disrespect or dislike people with such a background. And by no means, you could even think to discriminate them. If anything, they deserved endless respect, gratitude, care and love. But you weren't naive. You understood that the life of such a person could turn into hell if he was not supported by someone incredibly strong. And you did not believe that you would ever become such a strong person. Damn, you had sometimes problems coping even with yourself.

But you also could never say, "I'll never speak to a guy, just because he is a veteran". No way.

So you sighed and thought to yourself, that you'll just meet him once, be nice and friendly, thank him for what he was doing, shake his hand and buy him a beer.

That's why you agreed to this date, albeit with a heavy heart.

So you ended up at the bar waiting for this guy on a chilly autumn evening.

You were still questioning yourself if it was even fair to go on a date that is meant to be the last one (and only one participant knew it for sure), when you heard someone call your name behind your back.

You turned back and froze for a moment.

Why did this guy had to have an absolutely disarming smile and those charming clear blue eyes and barely noticeable precious freckles?

Your brain seemed to short circuit, because all you managed to answer was "Oh..."

"I prefer Alex, but if it's a happy "oh" - I'm ok with that too" - he grinned and gave you a friendly hug.

And at that moment you knew, you were gone.

Well, maybe there was a tiny bit of hope for you... What if the guy was just a jerk? This would make stopping any interaction easier for you. "C'mon, help me out here, man, please!" - you desperately thought as the date began.

He didn't help you. Not at all.

As promised: he was funny, charming, wildly beautiful and... warm. Not "formally friendly", but really, sincerely warm.

In an hour, you didn't even feel like it was a date. You were just chatting with your old buddy.

And yes, he got all your jokes. The way he laughed, closing his eyes sometimes, just made you weak.

You even forgot to worry about all that "Oh no, how do I pay respect and show gratitude to the veteran" stuff. He made you feel comfortable and relaxed.

Well, at least until he caught you staring at his tattoos, when you thought, he looked in the other direction.

"Wanna see the rest?" - he smiled and rolled the sleeve of his shirt up.

You were a blushing, apologetic mess, till he turned it all up into a joke.

"C'mon, it's not every day, that I catch the attention of someone so adorable. Just pretend, you are interested and ill be reminiscing on how I showed you my ink for the rest of my life and boost my self-esteem" - he chuckled.

Oh, his sweet, a bit raspy little laughs.

He looked you right in the eyes, but somehow didn't make eye contact uncomfortable.

You didn't even notice how time passed until it was time to say goodbye.

"Did your friend already give you my number? No? Ok, time to fix this!" - he takes your phone from your hands and writes something down there. Then he laughs softly and makes a funny face at the camera.

When he returns the phone to you, his number is written there and there is even a funny photo on his contact.

"Alex "Oh" Keller".

Well, of course, he wrote his name down that way.

"Our mutual friend said that you somehow take the military too seriously. Here's a reminder for you that we are just goofballs in a uniform sometimes."

When you came back home, you opened a chat with your friend. Of course, she already spammed you with a ton of questions on how did you like Alex.

"What did you tell him about me?!" "I mean... thanks" "Hes perfect", you type, but then delete and type instead "Really, thnx!"

[katherines-imagines]

“Don’t be a skxawng, just ask her.” Part 5

pairings: neteyam x reader

warnings: cute, fluff, bad writing

key: skxawng - moron, yawne - darling, my love, oyeä tsamsiyu - my warrior, sayrip - handsome, good looking

summary: Neteyam tries to find Y/n to explain everything, but gets surprised…

Neteyam was worried.

Worried that his decision to let Y/n go and cool of was a bad one.

He was sure he saw tears in her eyes, and his heart ached at the thought that he had caused the most gorgeous girl pain.

When Rini and Neteyam had finished their talk on the flowers fit for a queen, he rushed to find you, but his parents had called him home.

Neteyam didn’t sleep one wink, worried for you.

Worried that you hated him.

Yet, he was determined, for today he would talk to you and sort things out.

What Neteyam didn’t know, was that Y/n was thinking the same thing.

You were determined to see him too, but not because you were going to yell at him.

Why would you, he was just talking to Rini, not making out with her.

Even if he was, she didn’t have a say in it.

Well, not until her plan would be completed.

Last night, Y/n stayed up, trying to find a way to make Toruk Makto’s eldest son fall for you, not aware that he already had.

Oh come on now, you didn’t really think that Y/n would be angry and wait for him to apologize, would you?

It’s 2023, a woman can charm a man if she wishes.

And Y/n was determined to make Neteyam hers.

And she would, even if it was the last thing she would do.

When Neteyam finally bumped into Y/n, he expected her to have tear stained eyes, to hate him.

Yet, it turned out to be the exact opposite, the girl staring into his eyes, grinning as if she had just hunted the biggest meal for the whole village.

Cute.

“Ah! ‘Teyam, I was just looking for you,” she gleamed.

Sighing in relief, Neteyam answered, “Really? You seemed upset yesterday..”

Waving it off, you grabbed his hands in your wins and pulled him towards you.

You were close enough to feel his heart beating incredibly fast, your chests just barely touching.

“I would like you to accompany me today,” the girl said with confidence.

Flustered at the girls confidence and the close proximity, he could only nod simply, red all over his face you would have thought he was sick with a sting fever.

The fever of love.

“Perfect! Let us go, sayrip,” the girl said slyly, glancing out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction.

He spluttered some words of agreement, blushing madly, making Y/n smile wickedly.

She sure did like it when the roles were reversed.

Hopefully, it would stay that way.

What in the world is she doing?

That was all Neteyam could think, as the girl in question dragged him around to do her errands.

She seemed to be full of confidence, not her usual glow, but more mischievous.

Cocky.

She was acting cocky.

And while Neteyam didn’t know why, though he had a clue, he most certainly did not mind it.

Not one bit, he thought, looking at their still intertwined hands.

As they continued walking with Y/n chatting non stop and Neteyam listening, the teenage boy felt multiple pairs of eyes on them.

He turned his head to catch the gaze of Y/n’s other friends (obviously not her best friend, because that role was his and his alone.)

They seemed to be giggling, pointing at their hands and squealing.

I don’t think I will ever understand girls.

“Well that’s because your a boy, ma ‘Teyam,” Y/n answered with a chuckle.

Neteyam blushed harshly, embarrassed of speaking his thoughts aloud without his consent.

“Don’t mind those skxawngs, their just being silly,” Y/n said, motioning towards the pack of howling hyenas known as teenage girls.

As they walked for a bit in silence, Neteyam admired the girl who not only possessed his hand at the moment, but his heart.

Before he could comment on her beauty, he was interrupted by the beauty known as Y/n.

“So I saw you talking to Rini.

Ah, straight to that.

“I was, I was just trying to learn types of flowers that would best fit for an arrangement for my mother,” he answered nonchalantly, cleverly covering up his plan with a discreet lie.

His ear twitched happily, hearing the girl’s quiet sigh.

“No need to be jealous, yawne. You know my heart already belongs to you,” Neteyam flirted.

“Wasn’t jealous, just curious,” Y/n tried to play it off, but Neteyam shaked his head with a chuckle.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a little crush on me,” Neteyam teased, expecting to win this competition.

“What if I do?”

Neteyam’s mouth dropped to the ground, not expecting such a declaration.

No, Neteyam thought.

No way.

”I- i,” Neteyam stuttered, Y/n clearly having gotten the upper hand.

Taking a step closer to him so that their chests had completely touched, she positioned her mouth right next to his ear.

“What would you do, oyeä tsamsiyu?”

Neteyam blushed at her words, too shy to answer.

“When you come up with an answer, come find me, mighty warrior.”

And with that, she skipped away, a proud smile shining on her face, as she left a flustered Neteyam in her wake.

Did she just-

Did she just say she likes me?

———————————————————————

A/N: This is not, I repeat, not the end of this series. I have so much more ideas for this, so just wait. Also, I wasn’t going to do the stereotype for having Neteyam apologize. Like, take charge, the woman can charm the man. I’m also trying to involve more Na’vi language that I found!

Thanks for the support, comment if you want to be tagged in the next part or the whole series (please be specific,) and if you have any ideas, just send them to me :)

tagged: @kikookii, @dioraaaaaaa, @mashiromochi, @sloppierjewel, @ipoopedmypants47, @adaiasafira, @mommyneytiri, @grierpilots, @dorck26, @regulus-black-223048, @fluffy-b33z

[pedrospatch]

more hearts than mine

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

summary: Frankie promises you he’s not going anywhere.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. no physical description of reader, no mention of her age, reader has both of her parents, reader has a little sister (15 and unnamed), reader has a close relationship with her family (cannot say i am writing this from experience oop), reader is from a small, unnamed town somewhere in the midwest (state not specified), established relationship, mention of ex-boyfriend, mentions of alcohol consumption, reassurance, fluff, smutty themes towards the end but no smut.

word count: 2k

a/n: this was not planned and very spur of the moment. i think i needed a palette cleanse from writing so much joel. it’s my first time writing for frankie but i like the way it turned out. <3 i it’s 3 am, i wrote this in an hour and it is not proofread, so please excuse any errors. this is based on a song called more hearts than mine by ingrid andress.

“It’s late,” you worry. “Where could they be?”

Amused, your mother watches you anxiously pace back and forth in front of the dining room table. “My darling, can you please relax? They probably hit some traffic on their way back home from the lake. I bet you anything those two will be walking through the front door any second now,” she assures you. At that precise moment, her cell phone vibrates on the table, the loud buzzing noise garnering her attention. She picks it up and raises her eyebrows in complete surprise. “Oh. Or maybe not. Your father just texted me and said they’re stopping for a couple of drinks at the bar. He says not to wait up for them.”

Halting mid pace, you whirl around and stare at her. 

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope.” She shows you the text. “See?”

“Jesus,” you mutter. Shaking your head, you drop down into the chair across from hers.

“That’s a pretty good sign. Don’t you think so, honey?”

It is because your father taking your boyfriend out on a fishing trip and then taking him to his favorite bar for drinks afterwards means that their time alone together has gone well. But, even though your father had clearly taken a liking to him, he won’t ever show it. Sure, he’ll buy him dinner and he’ll buy him drinks, he’ll check his tires and take a look underneath the hood of his pickup truck to make sure everything looks good, but he’ll do it with a scowl on his face and a standoffish attitude.

“He hates me, baby. Your old man hates me,” Frankie declared after his first dinner with your family. You had both arrived in your hometown that same evening after a gruelling, sixteen hour drive to the midwest. Despite being exhausted from the trip, he’d put his best foot forward for them—he’d charmed your mother and your little sister, had them both wrapped around his finger by the time dessert had been served. But your father, oh he had been much harder for him to win over. “He barely said two words to me all night.”

“My dad doesn’t hate you,” you swore to him, rubbing a soft, soothing circle into his broad back. “Do you want to know how I know that?”

“How?”

“Because he poured you a drink.”

He’d snorted. “What, and that means he likes me?”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” you joked with a giggle. “It’s still too early to tell if he likes you. But one thing is for sure, he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t break out a bottle of whiskey for someone he hates, Frankie.”

Sighing, you lift your legs, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Poor Frankie. He’s probably spent the better part of the whole day just trying to figure him out.

“I like him,” your mother says after a minute. “I like him a lot.”

“What a coincidence,” you grin. “I like him a lot too.”

She laughs. “I’m serious! He’s incredible, darling. He is so handsome. He’s sweet. Seems like he’s got a really good head on his shoulders—”

“Are we talking about Francisco?” Your sister walks into the dining room with can of Dr. Pepper in one hand and her cell phone in the other.

“As a matter of fact, we are.” Your mother smiles. “Isn’t he great?”

“He’s kinda perfect, actually.” She takes a casual sip of her soda and raises an eyebrow at you. “I have to admit though, I’m afraid to get attached to Frankie. You know, after what happened with Jake—”

You wince at the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s name.

Your mother hisses her name, angrily.

“I’m just saying! When he broke up with you, it’s like he broke up with all of us. It sucked.” She shrugs, adding, “I mean, even dad was sad about it for months. Wasn’t he, mom?”

“Don’t you have a paper to write?” Your mother glares at her.

Your sister starts towards the staircase, but stops and glances over her shoulder. “I like Frankie,” she tells you, smiling wryly. “And I really hope he sticks around.” With that, she disappears upstairs.

Sighing heavily, your mom turns to you. “Don’t listen to her. She’s only fifteen, she doesn’t know any better. She doesn’t understand what happened—”

Pushing away from the table, you stand up. 

“I’m going to take a walk,” you murmur. “I need some fresh air.”

“Hermosa?”

You stir at the sound of Frankie’s voice.

“Baby. Hey. Wake up.”

“Mm?” you mumble sleepily. “Frankie, what are—ow!”

You groan when he switches on the lamp on the beside table. Rolling over, you bury your face into your pillow.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, chuckling softly. The twin sized mattress squeaks, dipping as he somehow squeezes himself beside you on your childhood bed. He’s staying in the guest room down the hallway—you parents, who were incredibly old school, had insisted the two of you sleep in separate bedrooms during your stay. Draping his arm around you, he leans down and nuzzles into the side of your face. Even with your nose buried in your pillow, you pick up the scent of sunscreen mingled with beer. “Just wanted to tell you I’m back home.”

Lifting your head, you blink furiously until your blurred vision stabilizes.

“What—what time is it?”

“Eleven.” Frankie’s cheeks and nose are red, sunburned from having been out on your dad’s boat all afternoon. You’re willing to bet he’d forgotten to put the sunscreen on his face. Even though you’d warned him a hundred times not to forget.

“What?” You sit up, prompting him to do the same. “It’s eleven and you only now just got back?”

“Your old man took me to Gordon’s,” Frankie explains, referring to one of the only few bars your small town had to offer. It was the place where you would meet with your old high school friends to catch up with each other whenever you were home visiting. At some point this week, you would be sitting in a booth at that old bar with them, introducing Frankie, and squirming when they began to tell him embarrassing stories of all those crazy nights from your senior year. “We went in with plans to have a couple beers before coming home, but then we ran into some of his buddies there. He introduced me, they bought us more drinks, and we played a game of pool. Your dad whooped my ass, of course.”

“How did fishing go?”

“Great. Y’know, once he stopped looking at me like he wanted to throw me overboard.”

You let out an amused huff. “He would never.”

“I don’t know. That man is pretty hard to read.” Frankie reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “One minute we’d be talking, shooting the shit while we waited for the fish to bite, and the next he would look at me like he was seriously thinking about pushing me off his boat and into the water.” He squeezes your hand, a deep laugh rumbling through his chest. “I spent all goddamn day with him and I still can’t tell if he likes me yet or not.”

Lifting his hand, you press a tender kiss to the back of it, a sweet token of affection.

“He likes you, Frankie,” you murmur against his skin. “I know it. My whole family likes you. Except my mom—”

He stiffens. “What?”

“She loves you.”

Frankie turns to you. Despite your smile, he can see the hint of concern in your eyes. “Baby, what’s the matter?”

You hesitate.

After what your sister had said earlier that evening, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made a mistake and brought him home too soon. You and Frankie had been together for about six months now, and besides having a drawer of your things at his place for when you stayed overnight, you two hadn’t really sat down to talk about what the next step in your relationship would be—you and Frankie hadn’t discussed the possibility of a future together. Truth be told, you had never felt the need to question him about where this was heading. You’d been perfectly content in allowing things to unfold between you without putting any kind of pressure on yourself, or on him. At least, up until now, you had been content.

You’d been silly to think bringing Frankie home to meet your family wouldn’t be all that big of a deal, that it wouldn’t make you consider what came next. But you had forgotten how easily your mother falls in love, how quickly your little sister can form an attachment, and how your father, despite being rough around the edges, feels every heartache you go through as if it’s his own.

You think back to when your previous relationship went down in flames, you remember the helpless look on your father’s face whenever he would see you crying. “I never liked him,” he’d said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey over ice. But that had been a lie. He’d seen him as the son he never had. He lost something, too. Your whole family had to heal from that loss along with you.

Part of you is afraid that it could happen again.

“Amor?”

Frankie’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You glance down at your hand in his. “Frankie, the last thing I want to do is scare you off,” you start to say, a nervous edge to your tone. “Or put any kind of pressure on you to give me anything more than what you have already given me. But now that you’ve met my family, I can’t help but worry a little bit.”

He frowns. “What are you worried about?”

Sighing, you confess, “My last relationship—it didn’t end very well, Frankie. My family loved him, adored him the way I can see they’re already starting to adore you. When he broke up with me, he broke more hearts than just mine.” You force yourself to look up, and meet his gaze with a wistful smile. “I guess there’s a part of me that’s scared it’ll happen again.”

Frankie’s dark brown eyes soften. “Oh baby, there’s no need to be scared. That’s never gonna happen.”

“How can you be so sure it’ll never happen?”

“Easy, because I love you. And I know you love me.” He reaches over with his free hand and he cups the side of your face, his thumb grazing over the soft skin of your cheekbone. “I’m in this for the long haul. I wouldn’t have driven sixteen hours across the country with you to come meet your family if I wasn’t. I’m serious about you—I’m serious about us, baby.”

Frankie leans in, gently pressing his mouth to yours in a chaste, but sweet kiss.

“Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?” he mumbles against your lips.

“What do you see?”

“Mi futuro,” he tells you. “I see my future.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest. “You do?”

“I do. Believe me, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, and so is your family,” Frankie grins. “Your dad is gonna have plenty of opportunities to contemplate throwing me off his boat and into the lake.”

You giggle as he kisses you again before trailing his lips down to your neck. “Frankie,” you say his name warningly as he pushes you onto your back. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he says innocently, positioning himself on top of you. He plants his hands on either side of your head and dips his head, nipping lightly at the tender flesh over your pulse point. “How thin are these walls?”

“Francisco Morales, no, you are not fucking me in my parent’s house, not in my childhood bedroom—”

His bulge brushes against your thigh and you gasp.

“Guess I’ll head back to the guest room, then,” Frankie murmurs, feathering one last kiss onto your neck.

He starts to climb off of you and your hands shoot out, curling around fistfuls of his shirt to stop him.

“I can be quiet,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip. You take one of his hands and guide it underneath the hem of the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing to the apex of your thighs. “Can you?”

“Hermosa,” Frankie groans, running a finger along the damp cotton of your panties. He slips it beneath the fabric, his blood rushing south when he meets your slick folds. “God, I fucking hope so, or else I’ll actually end up at the bottom of that fucking lake.”

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

[silverpigeon]

request/suggestion?!? maybe something sweet and domestic like mashfinn friends and families reactions to them being engaged?! (sorry i’m a sucker for married life)

(There are two more suggestions in works so I closed the inbox for now, but I will open it after they are done!)

I knew you would come and fuel my Mashfinn soul, thank you for your suggestion and I hope you'll enjoy it!

***

Mash was always blunt and Finn knew that, it was one of his strange charms after all, one that ultimately helped the young wizard realize how much he actually loved Mash. How could he not, after everything that had happened? After all the things Mash has done for him?

It was so nice, to hear those words back one day, and to date Mash, and to experience him like this in their own, intimate moments. To see him blunt again, but…

Maybe he just didn't expect to hear a marriage proposal sound blunt, even though it was so… so like Mash.

“Finn, marry me.”

They were just lying on a couch, entangled in each other as Mash played with Finn’s hair and looked over his shoulder to see a book his boyfriend was reading.

And then he suddenly spills those words, making Finn shut his book in confusion.

“Don't joke around like that…”

Because what else could this even be? It wasn't like they were together for a really long time, or that Finn would even make a good husband.

How was one even supposed to answer that? Wasn't this something Finn should have studied for? To have a reaction ready?

But then again, was there ever a moment in his life with Mash for which he was ready?

“I’m not joking. Oh… you don't want to marry me.”

“D-don’t be stupid, of course I do! It’s just that…that…”

“You do want to marry me.”

There was no reason saying no right now, Finn guessed. Not that he wanted to, there was no way he would ever say no to Mash ever, but his words are caught in his throat and so he nods, cheeks red and his future suddenly including a husband.

So Mash pulls a ring out of his pocket and holds Finn’s hand, slipping it on and also looking quite nervous.

It takes one glance for Finn to realize why.

“...Mash, is that an onion ring?”

“...I’ll get a better one soon, I promise.”

But before Finn could even say that he didn't need to, really, because getting an edible ring from his boyfriend was also really ‘Mash’, the strong wizard carefully put Finn’s whole finger in his mouth, eating the ring and making Finn’s face go from very confused to very red.

And that was Mash too.

***

“You’re engaged?!”

Mash says it so bluntly once again to their whole group of friends, of course after getting permission from Finn, and Lemon grabs the strong boy so hard she would probably tackle him down were he someone else than Mash, obviously.

Lance and Dot keep staring, but then realize it definitely looked impolite and at least the blue-haired wizard puts his palms together to congratulate them.

Dot has a different idea though, and he goes to Finn to do the job his blonde friend couldn't, tackling Ames to the ground with a scream.

“Congrats, dude! You’re going for kids next?”

“Excuse me?!”

It takes a lot of screaming and Lance having to calm everyone down before they can calmly sit down and just talk. The actual marriage part of the engagement is far away and no one wants to mention a date, yet it doesn't really matter for now. What is important to them is the feeling, the fact that they have come to trust each other this much, that they would like their days to continue like this.

And that Finn can call Mash his fiancé, of course, which is something he is planning to abuse very much. He knows his ears go a little red when he calls him that.

Their reactions after that are similar, yet still quite different. Lemon changed her whole ‘Marrying to Mash’ attitude rather quickly after he started to date Finn and now, she was incredibly happy for them. Even though she couldn't do the preparations with Mash, she could still do them for Mash, and that was enough. Lance is the one with the technical questions concerning their life going forward, but he smiles while Dot asks when, and where, and they are both definitely excited.

Just another proof that Mash and Finn couldn't have asked for better friends, really.

***

Regro Burnedead and Rayne Ames are together under the Burnedead’s roof when they and their relatives sit down. Finn doesn't know where to start, how to explain, and even though he knows they are both very supportive of their relationship, it still feels quite embarrassing.

So he stays quiet and lets Mash’s bluntness take over.

“We’re engaged.”

Mash’s father spits out the tea he had in his mouth and even though Rayne looks completely unbothered, inside he could probably scream. He likes seeing his brother happy, really, and he tried to stay happy when he first heard about him getting a boyfriend, but an engagement?

Maybe the only reason why it shocks him so much is the fact Finn was growing too fast, and Rayne spent too much of that time avoiding him.

But Regro is now hugging them both with tears in his eyes and Rayne can sense that Finn is scared of his older brother’s reaction. So of course he gets up and hastily joins them all.

Because him and Finn weren't alone anymore, and their family would only grow from now on.

“Oh Mash, there's so many things we need to do! You need to choose the place, and the cake, and the flowers…”

“It’s fine, Pops. We still have a lot of time.”

They did, now that Innocent Zero sat behind bars and everyone had the chance to feel full of hope once again.

[thecolourpurple123]

Fourier Lugunica ramble (with excerpts from Ex 1)

Fourier is, much like all the members of the Lugunican royal family, somewhat airheaded but charming in nature. The Lugunican royals are all genuine and good people, but not particularly skilled stewards―which is pretty much the exact description the LN uses across all the side content I've read recently including Ex 1, 2, and 3.

In his normal state, he's prone to being incredibly impulsive and needy. He rolls up to the Karsten estate at random to bother them with whatever he's fixated on at any given moment and is very good-natured about the teasing he is subject to―not being particularly aware of the depths of Ferris's wit, but always rolling with whatever punches he does see. Fourier's obviously a bit pampered considering how he whines about the cold to the degree that he never goes anywhere without his fancy red coat, but he's not totally adverse to hardship or pain seeing how readily and regularly he challenges Crusch to duels for years of their youth despite never really standing a chance.

Generally, he does not concern himself with his own status, and readily waves it off in pursuit of whatever he's fixated on because he's just that kinda silly goofy guy. At the same time though, he's keenly aware of his status as the fourth prince, and while he does know the kind of effect he can have on people―as seen in how he stalls for time when Crusch is fighting the rabbits by distracting the people at her party with improvised songs and sword demonstrations―Fourier is not one to care for the fact that he's royalty in any ambitious or grand sense. However, as seen in Ferris's unusual appointment as a royal knight, he does know when it can be used to get what he wants/thinks is right and necessary.

Further, Fourier is very much one for bravado and putting on a brave face. He wants to be strong and look cool, especially for Crusch, and in all matters Fourier is one to throw himself headfirst into situations with a high degree of overconfidence. It's actually noted as being part of his charm, the fact that he so readily pretends that he's better than he is and is princely, while also not really caring for being seen as princely and competent, which ends up making those times where he's princely and competent all the more impactful to the people he interacts with.

(here we see Fourier and Ferris discussing after the duel with Crusch to make her wear a dress, for a more relaxed example of Fourier being both overconfident and not caring for how he appears which Ferris takes advantage of to tease him)

(this one is of Crusch talking to Fourier about Ferris's family history that he pretends to already know about and lies to Crusch about blatantly to save face, only to prove himself unknowingly in her eyes in the next breath)

(and this one is Julius talking to him later in Ex 1 for a more serious example of how Fourier views other's views of him)

Ultimately, Fourier is a bit of a walking contradiction. He's oh! so jolly yet still respectable and competent when the need arises. He doesn't care for status yet walks around with overconfidence. He's keenly aware of social dynamics at times when it counts, yet often blunders his way through conversations in a way that's disarmingly absent-minded.

It's a contradiction explained by the fact that Fourier is one of a rare few of his family to be a "master of the blood" as Miklotov puts it, or the Lion King's Blessing as the fandom has come to call it. He's able to just… intuit things, a lot of the time. He knows what moves to play to win at games, knows answers to obscure questions his tutor asks without knowing why, is able to only ever show up to the Karsten estate when Crusch and Ferris aren't too busy to see and hang out with him, and of course is able to coordinate several royal knights to rescue Crusch from Ferris's dad while also setting Reinhard as insurance for stopping Miles (a spy he doesn't know exists, just has a hunch exists based on pretty much no evidence at all) from escaping back to Vollachia all without ever knowing the full scope of his own machinations.

I think the most iconic moment of Fourier is this:

In one move, Fourier pushes Crusch to accept her dual roles of being a Lady and being the martial heir to house Karsten, thrusts Ferris into knightship in a way that doesn't leave him insecure or gives him any room for doubt, and saves Crusch's dad's life from the rabbits―only to after Crusch and Ferris leave, tell a servant Crusch tied up that he has no idea what's going on and that they should probably figure that out.

Fourier is effortlessly foundational to Crusch and Ferris's entire worldviews, and he doesn't even know how or why he just follows his instincts and garners their total respect and admiration. He's humble in an unspoken way that leaves his dramatic overconfidence as endearing instead of irritating. He's a royal with once in a generation blood, yet all he cares for is to see the buds in the garden that are those he holds dear in his life bloom into their own.

The only time he ever really cares for his station, is because Crusch is a little obsessed with the legacy of the Lion King, and Fourier wants that attention on himself (all the while not knowing that he already has it). He makes giving his everything feel like nothing yet still everything―which is all the more tragic, all the more foundational for Crusch going forward, because that very essence of Fourier is exemplified in his death where his very memory is but a footnote in a wider chapter of the nation's history. Everything to Crusch and Ferris, but nothing to a nation in mourning.

This is why, after finishing Ex 1, I have gained an appreciation for Crusch who I'd thought as a very boring character having only experienced her presence in the main series. For years now, I've always looked down upon that short-sighted selfish goal of hers to break the covenant with the dragon, just because she can't get over Fourier's death. But it's deeply understandable if you come to know Fourier, and see it from Crusch's perspective.

Crusch started with this chip on her shoulder regarding needing to be worthy of inheriting this mantle of the lion, and then by the end of the novel she inherits this impossible dream of Fourier's too―where he pictures this future together with Ferris and Crusch as he dies in her arms, not even able to finish telling her that he loves her before he goes.

Fourier was her Lion King, he always was, and in his absence, given this singular opportunity through her candidacy and in the context of the seemingly callous attitude of the Sage Council and the gathered nobles… to me, it just feels so earned that she would despise the Dragon, whose mere promise of protection overshadows the deaths of so many royals who were amazing in their own rights. Ultimately, Crusch's ire does come from misplaced grief, but it's one I can't help but respect now. The path Ferris and Crusch walk is not one that is kind to either of them, but it is one that is quite fitting. One that is lonely by necessity, because even though Fourier told Ferris to rely on his friend Julius, he was unable to finish telling Crusch his full feelings for her, leaving Crusch with an impossible dream and shoes she can't fill even with Ferris at her side.

So basically, all of this is to say that my favorite ferret man Ferrier Lugunica haunts the narrative and after reading Ex 1 he lives in my head as rent free as he does in Crusch and Ferris's.

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 民国奇探/My Roommate is a Detective.

My Roommate is a Detective is a 2020 drama about the Jazz Age shenanigans of a terrible OT3: a useless noodle boy, a spoiled journalist girl, and a handsome thug-turned-cop, who together solve Agatha Christie mysteries in 1920s Shanghai.

I mean, seriously, have you ever wondered what Hercule Poirot would be like if he were a 6'2" Chinese rubber man? If he had a long-suffering sugar daddy from the wrong side of the tracks and a spunky sugar mommy who owned their shared apartment? The answer is, it would be a laugh-out-loud-funny series about a ridiculous and charming assortment of weirdos solving only slightly believable murder mysteries in charming period clothing.

This is another one of those shows where I'm kind of shocked at how not well-known it is, except I'm not, because I can see exactly the problems that keep fandom from descending on it like horny little vultures. Nonetheless, I think it's a good time that more people would enjoy if they gave it the chance. Here's five reasons why you should:

1. Equal parts smart as heck and dumb as butts

On the one hand, especially given its tone and tenor, this show has many surprisingly clever turns and thoughtful moments, carried along by some talented actors. On the other hand, [.gif of a guinea pig in a rollerskate being pushed merrily down a hallway]

This show is not a complicated intellectual exercise. It's an action comedy about a goofy sleuth, a rich-girl reporter, and the cop who should be the straight man in this trio, except he's as much of a goober as the other two are. If the promotional tableaus are giving you real "cover of a Clue box" vibes, you've understood the kind of pastiche it's pulling off.

The mysteries are preposterous. They're all the kind of thing that exemplify the Doyle line about how, when you've eliminated the impossible, whatever's left has got to be the answer, no matter how ding-dang improbable it may be. You know the type: tons of overly elaborate setups, unbelievably perfect timing, coincidental long-lost relatives, people hallucinating right and left. They're also very short -- most full cases take only 2-3 episodes to introduce, investigate, and resolve, even when interspersed with the larger goings-on in these weirdos' lives. The DramaWiki page for the show lists 23 separate arcs over 36 episodes, so you do the math.

And yet, it's way more thoughtful and clever than its doofy little setup would indicate. Its attention to detail surprised me on more than one occasion. Add to that a bunch of solid performances from an ensemble of real characters, and what you get is definitely more substantive than a junk-food waste of time. You can't turn your brain off while watching it, but you sure can turn it down, and that's great.

It also doesn't hurt that everyone is super attractive and wearing great outfits. The whole show's worth it for the wardrobes.

2. THE GIRL

Fuck the haters, fuck everyone, I am going to climb right up on my little soapbox and tell you all why Bai Youning is awesome.

She is insane. She's a troll. She's a clever little monster. Every other character's response to her is, oh my god, you are literally the worst. And she is! She has been spoiled beyond belief by her incredibly rich Crime Dad, and she has learned to leverage her uwu just a widdle girl status to get her whatever the hell she wants. She simply cannot hear it when someone says the word "no." She will look her future sister-in-law in the eye and point a loaded gun at her own head without blinking. Every ball she has is made of brass.

She's hardly perfect. During the course of the show, there are some times where her entitlement runs face-first into the brick wall of reality. She's not nearly as good at her chosen career path as she's been told (mostly by the people who get paid to tell her she's good). She's rarely prepared to deal with the consequences of her actions, especially when she can't just throw money at the problem.

So she learns, and grows, and changes. She's always going to be a stubborn bitch, but she can become a stubborn bitch with a more accurate conception of her relationship to the world around her.

She's actually a really good romantic foil for Lu Yao, who is equally stubborn and spoiled and obnoxious as hell. It is a pure brat4brat relationship, where each one thrives on comically enraging the other. What this means, though, is that when they actually start showing one another some vulnerability, it's really sweet.

Now: I'm pretty sure that you could not have made a female character in her position that everyone did not hate, no matter how cool you made her, because that is the fate of all girls who theoretically keep the two boys from kissing. (More on that next point.) If she were less outgoing and friendly, she would've been hated for being too cold. If she were less headstrong, she would've been hated for being a pushover. If she weren't as into the boy, she would've been hated for being frigid. I know the "god forbid a woman do anything" meme is a joke, but ... man, god forbid this girl do anything. She gets a level of hate entirely disproportionate to what she's actually like. As I said with Eom Dada, it's not always sexism, but sometimes, yeah, it's sexism.

(Real talk: Her character is also fighting both how she's definitely not written as well as the boys are and how the plot sometimes needs her to be artificially stupid and jealous for Straightness Drama Reasons, so that's a legit problem on a structural level. Also, she's dubbed by someone else and the boys aren't, which gives her voice an annoying not-quite-there quality that's hard to ignore. The deck is stacked against her real hard even before she steps onscreen.)

So here's my advice: Go into this show wanting to like her. Embrace her terribleness as a positive, intentional quality. Don't be mad at her for straightening up an endgame that was never going to be gay, even without her. Welcome her contributions to the chaos. Realize that she is exactly as entertainingly irritating as her boys are.

Truly, this is a story of three terrible people in love. They're all just awful, and you wouldn't want to be in a room with any of them for longer than you had to. Left to right up there, Bai Youning is spoiled and self-absorbed, Lu Yao is arrogant and lazy, and Qiao Chusheng is suuuuuch a fucking cop. If you're into the kind of dynamic that can only be described OT3: You All Deserve One Another, then this one's perfect for you.

3. Do you really miss '00s queerbaiting?

Like, really? Are you just super-nostalgic for being able to see the showrunners go, ha ha, girls, we know you're watching and we know you want these cute boys to kiss, which they never will -- but what if we pretended for just this one scene??? Do you just carnally ache for that with every fiber of your being?

Yep.

Now, why am I calling the occasional really gay moments between these two gentlemen "queerbaiting" and not "bromance"? Because these moments are a) obviously intentional, b) completely sporadic, and c) never spoken of again.

For example: There's a scene (which you can see a gifset of here) where the two of them are at a restaurant frequented by the cop, who brings a lot of ladies there on dates. When the waiter points this out, useless noodle boy says, I'm his date. The waiter looks mildly surprised by this, the cop says not to listen to his bullshit, and that's the end of it. The scene moves on. There is no further discussion of this comment. It does not affect their relationship.

That's the essence of queerbaiting: that little on-purpose nod to the homoerotic tension between the two, in a way that isn't a joke but also isn't not a joke, and either way is never going to happen. (In fact, the show is going to go out of its way to make sure that ship gets sunk, so, uh, get your fanfiction lifeboats ready for that.)

A true queerbaiting move is something that should make a difference in a relationship, but doesn't. It should make a difference that our cop is so comfortable in the noodle boy's personal space that he invades it at will. It doesn't. It should make a difference that noodle boy keeps getting real weird every time the cop has a date with a girl. It doesn't. Those are some real romantic moves the two of them keep pulling, and then nothing comes of them.

I had this show sold to me as being incredibly shippy, to the point of being even more so than its censored-BL contemporaries. And ... well, it is and it isn't. It has textually gayer individual moments, but it is much less pervasively gay. It's clear from the start that it's going to throw all its actual relationship points into its canon het romance. When it comes to these boys, the show is toying with you. It knows you want to see those boys smooch, just as much as it knows (and it knows you know) they're never gonna.

How you feel about this is entirely up to you -- and indeed, it may be a dealbreaker on the whole drama for you. If you are inclined to pitch a fit when your ship does not become canon, you'll be happier somewhere else. If, however, you see this as a delightful opportunity to do whatever the hell you want with the situation as it is presented, all the while enjoying little moments of startlingly blatant homoeroticism between two handsome dudes, well, here you are!

(I mean, if you want my take on it, what needs to happen is that the cop and the girl need to fuck while the useless noodle boy watches with asexual bisexual interest, and then they all need to snuggle with the noodle boy in the middle so they can both annoy him appropriately, but your mileage may vary.)

4. The multicultural extravaganza!

1920s Shanghai had a lot going on in terms of cultures and languages, and this show actually does a fair job of representing that.

By now, I've seen a number of shows set during this era, and they all at least acknowledge the international nature of the city -- usually by mentioning the French Concession and having a handful of evil Japanese characters. However, this is the first time I've seen a show go to such lengths to actually show so many non-Chinese characters onscreen, even to the point of making one a recurring character supporting the main squad.

Salim is the best. Whatever he is being paid, it's not enough. He's Qiao Chusheng's right-hand man, which means he is also the dude who most often has to put up the main trio's bullshit. (The actor himself is also a dude with a pretty cool backstory, which is another great layer.) He's sharp, he's loyal, he's patient, and he looks great with his shirt off. He's got it all!

Other non-Chinese characters include a white Jewish art collector (I'd issue a warning for period-typical antisemitism, except … honestly, it's mostly just confused), a sadistic priest who maybe is supposed to be Italian, a completely different priest who [last episode spoiler], and three whole sinister white dudes behind it all.

It's not just the world coming to China, though! A large number of the Chinese characters are said to have spent significant time outside of China, whether for business or for schooling. Near the end, when some characters are discussing moving away from Shanghai, they consider a number of foreign cities as potential destinations.

Here's a delightful detail: When Lu Yao and his sister speak English, they're dubbed by actors with posh British accents who sound like native (or near-native) English-speakers. This makes perfect sense, because both of the siblings did a lot of their schooling in the UK. When Bai Youning speaks English, she's dubbed by someone who speaks English very well but also has a noticeable Chinese accent, which makes perfect sense for her character's background. And Qiao Chusheng never speaks English at all, because he's a street tough who has no reason to know more than three words.

...This is also kind of weird to say about something literally made in China, but go with me on it: Everything's kind of got that Art Deco Orientalist vibe to it. It looks like China's idea of what Britain's idea of China during that period would have looked like. The result comes across less like what 1920s Shanghai would actually have looked like, and more what an ad for 1920s Shanghai would have looked like. It's a fascinating aesthetic, and more so for how it's mostly pretty subtle. The show isn't some visual extravaganza, but it's always very nice to look at, and I appreciate that in a show.

5. A wonderful horrible protagonist

A lot of mystery-themed prestige television involves an asshole genius detective who gets away with being a dick to everyone because he's sooooo smart, while all his long-suffering friends and colleagues spend a lot of time doing damage control for him because, sigh, he's an asshole but we need him, genius excuses all dickhead behavior, we'll always make exceptions for him because he's just ever so special. (Watch histrionic sage hbomberguy's video on Sherlock if you're unfamiliar with the trope.)

Lu Yao is an asshole genius detective, but one who winds up spending most of his time being an asshole to a) people who deserve it, or b) his horrible friends who will be assholes right back at him. When he is awful to the people who don't deserve it, the show smacks him pretty hard on the nose for it and makes him apologize.

This is a show where you'll figure out pretty quckly if you'll love it or hate it, because if you love Lu Yao, you'll love it, and vice versa. He carries most of the show himself, with his goofy charm and his incredibly bendy slenderman body and his ability to make the one competent person he knows both protect him and give him money.

Like so.

For my own part, I find him intensely charming, and I think a lot of this has to do with Hu Yitian's ability to play him as an affectionately bullyable weenie who needs to get shoved in a locker for his own good. He's the worst, and it's comically endearing instead of offputting because at the end of the day, he really does have a good heart. He's just also lazy as heck and disinclined to do anything that he does not want to be doing, and really, aren't we all?

As I alluded to in point 3, he comes across as real asexual. He's just not that interested in sex, and he is in fact pretty uncomfortable in situations where he finds himself the subject of someone else's sexual desires. He's perfectly capable of romantic feelings! I mean, not only does he get Bai Youning as a love interest, we actually meet one of his ex-girlfriends. He's just not partciularly horny about them -- which is even more noticeable as a sharp contrast to how extremely horny Qiao Chusheng is for just about everyone, but this exasperating little dork in particular.

(Like seriously, 90% of the time, Chusheng is about to explode with sexual frustration at Lu Yao's skinny oblivious ass.)

This isn't to say you couldn't get Lu Yao into bed, because you absolutely could, and he'd probably have a good time. You'd just have to remove all distractions from the room, lest his ADHD ass wind up running off to solve a crime mid-coitus.

Twiggy little nightmare man. Garbage-animal boy. Love him.

sidebar: A word about the ending

I'm going to be vague and talk about general vibes instead of specific events, but you should still skip this section if you want to remain completely unspoiled. Jump to the picture of Chusheng holding the sledgehammer.

Okay, so, a lot of people do not like the ending, and I'm including myself in that number. I honestly don't know if they got rushed and had to wrap everything pretty last-minute, or if they thought they might get a second season out of it and were leaving things open-ended accordingly. Either way, it's incredibly unsatisfying.

I think there's a clue that the show didn't actually want to end this way, and it's not actually in the text of the show itself. Every episode, between the last scene and the start of the credits, you get to see a couple still frames from the episode (usually some of the queerbaity ones). After the very final shot of the series, you get two images: the boys hugging goodbye, and Chusheng's upset face. That's not a resolution! That is at best a "to be continued..." ending!

But no, that's it. That's all, folks.

It's not quite an ending so bad it ruins the rest of the show, mostly because it doesn't feel finished, so it's less like you're watching a car being deliberately driven into a wall because someone thought that was the best route to take, and more like you're watching someone leave a car on the railroad tracks because they figured they'd have time to move it later.

As far as I know, there has been no noise made about a second season. These 36 episodes are the entirety of the narrative. It had the distinct misfortune to start airing in March 2020, which wasn't exactly prime time for planning sequels, and that seems to have been that. (There is a 2022 show called Checkmate that stars the two main guys in extremely similar roles, also adapting Agatha Christie stories, but it's apparently pretty meh? Somebody else who's actually seen it, go ahead and weigh in here.)

I'll say that if you turn off the episode right after Lu Yao gets out the handcuffs, you'll save yourself the worst of it the awkward and unsatisfying moments (though I'm impressed at your willpower to stop watching something five minutes from the end). That's not all of it, though. Structurally, there are several situations rushed to a resolution and loose threads left flapping untied in the breeze. I guess stopping before the last five minutes simply saves you the hope that it'll pull a good ending out of the fire, because it won't.

And let's be real: The more you hate Bai Youning and her romance with Lu Yao, the more you'll hate the ending. (Not that liking those elements will necessarily make you like the ending, of course, because I'm a fan of hers and I still think the ending is butts.) The ending is already like a pair of uncomfortable shoes; if the het romance especially makes you grind your teeth, the ending becomes a pair of uncomfortable shoes that also have a rock in them. A lot of the comments online indicate plenty of people dropped the show when they learned the het romance would be endgame. It's a pretty common dealbreaker.

Oh well. Bring on the fanfic, I say! Those of us who are used to taking a sledgehammer to canon are unafraid.

Smash it, baby.

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It's not a perfect show -- as evidenced by my digression about the ending -- but it's a lot of fun. If you can handle the occasional foible and some eyebrow-raising moments, you're in for a good time with some attractive people that occasionally tastes very gay.

Every roommate crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man