#its just around this time is when she is like a household name

[neminomnom]

Pets I think arcane characters would have

Includes- Mel, Caitlyn, Viktor, Jinx, Vi, Sevika, Ekko and Silco

this is set in season one, sorry if I got anything wrong, I hope you enjoyyyy!!!!

Mel

- Mel would have a tabby maine coon cat named Diantha.

- Daintha would be a very cuddly cat, quite lazy and spends most its time sleeping in the most random places, but loves outdoors and gets spoiled ROTTEN.

-That cat gets everything she meows for, Mel gives her those cat vitamins what makes her coat nice and soft, she also has a specific time each night when Mel gets home from work and she brushed Diantha.

Caitlyn

- It’s not a household pet, but Caitlyn would own a horse, a fresian named Domino, her father named it.

- Domino was a dressage horse, Caitlyn got him as a birthday present when she was younger, her parents would make her go to the stables every weekend to muck him out and take riding lessons

- Once Caitlyn was riding domino and kicked her off, after that Cassandra wasn’t so sure about keeping him.

Viktor

- I don’t know if this counts, but in his bedroom viktor has a huge fishtank, in said fishtank, he has a bunch of star fish, specifically the Patiria miniata type, he finds the colours of them cool.

- Viktor finds them somewhat easy to look after, of course you have to clean the tank out every now and again, but when he’s in really bad pain due to his illness, viktor will just sit and watch them, even though they don’t do much. His favourite is called Robert.

Jinx

- She found two ferrets on the street in a bin, one she named bubbles and the other jinx named bandit, they just roam around her hideout and follow her around.

-bubbles has a cinnamon coloured coat, and is the more playful and social one out of the two, meanwhile Bandit has a chocolate brown coat and is more cuddly and affectionate, yet they are both have the same level of mischief, of course.

Violet

- Violet owns a big friendly giant as a pet, a German Shepard named stevie to be exact, she’s just like Vi, energetic, fights a lot and is extremely loyal, but with Vi she’s a big softie.

- Vi takes stevie everywhere with her, they are attached by the hip, Violet would make sure stevie is decently trained, knowing the basic stuff like sit and to go to the toilet outside, but vi lets her eat from her plates and things like that.

- When vi met Caitlyn, Stevie tried to bite her on multiple occasions

Sevika

-Sevika has two Russian tortoises, one named Shelley and the other called Sheldon, basic but cute, since they can be left alone a lot and only need cleaning out once a week, but she finds them pathetic since how they just kinda walk around and go back into there shells.

-Sevika has a great set up for them, a nice basking area for them but overall a really good set up, and she lets them roam around wherever she lives when she is home.

Ekko

- Ekko has a bunch of birds, all different types of them, they all just roam around the firelight tree thing, they are all mostly owls and pigeons.

- His favourite bird out of the group is called Freya, she’s a fantail pigeon, mostly because she’s the only one what doesn’t try to snatch peoples food out of their hands.

- At night he adores staying up, watching the tree from a distance and loves staring at all the owls.

Silco

-If you go into his office at the right time, you’ll see a ratty looking sphinx cat probably sitting on his desk.

- he named it Fiona, he didn’t even buy/ adopt it, the hairless thing just roamed around the last drop long enough for him to feel a bit sorry for it,

- Fiona is a skinny thing, always scraping around for scraps even if she’s just been fed, so lo finds her annoying but loves the cat really.

—————————————————————————

I HOPE YOU LIKE ITTTT

[alien-til-i-stage]

EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH “HUMAN” MODEL, LILITH

Interviewer: Hello everyone! Today we brought in a rather unique person here! Let’s welcome in model, Lilith.

Lilith: Hello, it’s a pleasure to be here today.

I: No, it’s our pleasure. It’s not everyday we see someone like you!

L: Oh you jest, surely I can’t be that interesting. I’m no different from those on Alien Stage after all.

I: I didn’t expect one of the highest ranking models to be so humble as you! You’re surely to be a once in a lifetime phenomenon. I must say, your guardia-

L: Hm? My guardian? Surely you mean my father correct?

I: Ah yes, I’m sorry for that. You look so much like a human, I forget you aren’t. I suppose that’s your magic.

L: I suppose so. My father was quite dedicated when creating me. I have him to thank for getting me this far.

I: What an intelligent man, his name is Dottore correct? Perhaps we should interview him eventually, haha

L: I don’t think he’d enjoy that, sir.

I: Ah-, well um, Anyways, we have some questions for you today, if you don’t mind answering some of them?

L: I don’t see why not, after all this is an interview.

I: Starting us off, You seem quite invested in this season of Alien Stage, have any reason why?

L: Oh, I’ve always been interested in Alien Stage, it being my favorite show ever. I even have all the merch. With how round with Aurien being taken away from that strange creature, this season so far might be my favorite. My bets are on Sai!

I: How interesting, do you have any other thoughts on this season?

L: These contestants are quite intriguing I must say. I haven’t seen a season this interesting since season 35. I still think Milo should’ve won but I rest my case.

I: Sorry to disappoint, but some fans have asked, outside of Alien Stage, what are your other likes and dislikes?

L: Ah, that’s a shame, I enjoy speaking about Alien Stage. Well that’s no worries, I suppose it would be writing. Well, not writing per se, but writing letters. I enjoy communication as it was in it’s golden era. And perhaps partially as when I’m not modelling, my father doesn’t allow me out. He loves me too much to be hurt.

I: Writing letters huh? How charming from a girl such as yourself.

L: I enjoy it so, in fact I heard the 40th class of Anakt Garden is open to outside letters. I might try something out.

I: That’s definitely going to be fun for you! However I believe you still have dislikes to cover?

L: Oh I’m sorry. If I had to say…. I dislike the rebels and unladylike behavior. Everyone, both boys and girls should keep themselves to proper behaviors.

I: Of course, I might just have to ask you to hold a class on ladylike behavior, hahaha!

L: I don’t know, it is quite ungentlemanly of you to ask a lady for something…

I: Ah. Well uh, Well how about that hair of yours? I must say, it’s gorgeous and definitely not something you see everyday! It’s always in a new and different style everytime I see it!

L: Thank you, I try to keep it nice. I actually have many different wigs. They’re all supposed to mimic human hair, but it was too difficult to attempt to get human donors for my wigs. And the ones who did donate, well their hair wasn’t…. up to standards let’s just say.

I: Oh, so what is your hair made out of?

L: It’s actually made out of thread. It’s a lot of strings all made to look and mimic human hair but it’s done it’s job, wouldn’t you say?

I: Wow! I would never have guessed!

L: Ah, I apologize but it seems I must go now. My father is here to take me back home

I: Wait! We aren’t even done with the intervie- Come back!!

-Interview End-

Sai ( @junebluues / @bittersweet-adagio ) Aurien ( @aurienneirua ) and ‘strange creature’ ( @solei-eclipse )

[ducktoo]

Choose

Kim Minju x Reader

Note: first 2025 fic legggo! Miss seeing Minju around TT

Kim Minju

The name was practically a brand on its own. She wasn’t just a household name—she was the household name.

Not just in South Korea, but globally—a star whose name was synonymous with elegance, talent, and quiet determination. From her humble beginnings as an idol in a popular girl group to her meteoric rise as an actress, she’d built a career others could only dream of.

Critics raved about her ability to convey raw emotion in dramas that consistently topped ratings, and audiences adored her versatility on the big screen. Whether she was playing a fiery prosecutor in a courtroom thriller or a broken-hearted artist in an indie romance, Minju brought every character to life with a grace that felt effortless.

But behind the glitz and glamour, the award shows and flashing cameras, was a woman who hated doing the dishes and could never fold her laundry properly.

That’s where you came in.

The first time you met Minju, she wasn’t the polished actress everyone else saw. She was a frazzled young woman who had just moved into her first apartment after leaving her group, staring hopelessly at a mountain of cardboard boxes. You had been the part-timer hired by her agency to help her unpack and organize things for a day.

“Hi…I’m Minju,” she’d said with an awkward smile, wearing sweatpants and a messy bun. “I’m really bad at this sort of thing, so... please don’t judge me.”

You’d laughed, her candidness catching you off guard. “Pfff… no judgement…maybe. Just tell me where you want everything.”

One day turned into a week, then a month. By the time she’d landed her breakout role, you’d somehow become a permanent fixture in her life. Officially, you were her house helper—a job that involved cooking, cleaning, and occasionally wrangling her into her hectic schedules. Unofficially, you were her confidant, her sounding board, and her backup alarm clock when she hit snooze too many times.

It wasn’t glamorous work, but it was steady, and it let you witness a side of Minju no one else saw. The Minju who ate ramen straight out of the pot at 3 a.m., who cried over cheesy romance movies, and who practiced her lines in front of the bathroom mirror with more passion than she ever showed on set.

Although…you weren’t sure when your job title had expanded to include helping her choose a husband.

“Y/n, do you think this looks good on me?”

Her voice drifts from the walk-in closet, soft yet commanding, the kind of tone that doesn’t allow for a half-hearted response. You glance up from the laundry pile you’ve been folding for the past twenty minutes, catching sight of Minju stepping into the room in a pale blue dress.

It fits her perfectly, accentuating her delicate frame without being overly flashy. If anything, the dress looks like it was made for her. But you’ve learned to temper your words around her. Minju doesn’t need flattery—she needs honesty.

“It looks…good,” you say simply, folding another shirt with mechanical precision.

She frowns, turning back to the mirror. “Just good?”

You pause, trying not to sigh. “Fine…It looks great. You could wear a potato sack and still outshine half the world.”

Minju’s lips curve into a small smile, but it fades quickly as she smooths the fabric over her hips. “It’s not about outshining anyone, Y/n. I need to look like someone who’s ready to settle down. Someone... wife-like.”

"Pff…his clothes won't be folded anytime soon."

"Yaaaaaa" Minju whined, but the tone remains light.

Despite the teasing, the word wife hangs in the air between you, heavy and unspoken. You focus on the shirt in your hands, folding it once, then twice, before placing it neatly on the pile.

“I think you’re overthinking it,” you say, your voice steady despite the subtle tension building in your chest. “If a guy can’t see you are wife material, that’s on him, not your dress.”

Her head turns sharply, eyes narrowing. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being paraded around like a prize at an auction.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” you reply, finally meeting her gaze.

“Is it?” she shoots back, her hands planted firmly on her hips now. “I’ve got a dinner tomorrow with some CEO my manager thinks is perfect for me. Perfect age, perfect background, perfect everything. But do you know what’s not perfect?”

“Your minju ga tto moments?” you suggest, unable to resist a smirk.

“You,” she huffs, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it effortlessly, placing it on top of the laundry pile as if it belongs there.

“You’re the worst house helper ever” she mutters, but there’s no venom in her tone.

“I’m your only house helper,” you correct, standing and stretching your arms over your head. “And I’d argue I’m doing a pretty decent job.”

“Debatable,” she mumbles, turning back to the mirror. She’s quiet for a moment, her reflection deep in thought. Then, as if deciding something monumental, she spins back around.

“You’re coming with me tomorrow.”

You blink. “…What the f*ck?”

“To the dinner. You’re coming with me,” she repeats, crossing her arms like it’s already decided.

“Minju, I think you’re confusing me with your manager—”

“No, I’m not.” Her voice softens, but her eyes stay locked on yours. “I need someone there who’ll actually tell me what they think. Someone who’s not afraid to call out nonsense when they see it.”

“Right. And…you’re asking me?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not exactly the type to blend in with high society,” you point out, gesturing to your worn-out hoodie and jeans. “They’ll take one look at me and think you brought your assistant as a pity date.”

“First of all, you don’t look that bad,” she says, her lips twitching in amusement. “And second, I don’t care what they think. You’ll just sit there, eat your food, and occasionally tell me if the guy is worth my time.”

You open your mouth to protest again, but the determination in her eyes stops you. She’s already made up her mind.

“Fine,” you relent, leaning back against the couch. “But I'm sitting nearby, not at your table."

"Nope." Minju demanded. Her lips loudly popped the 'p'. "You're sitting with me, hon."

You could only sighed at her antics. "…don’t blame me if I scare him off.”

Her smile returns, small but genuine. “That’s exactly why I’m bringing you.”

-

The restaurant feels like a different universe, the kind of place where the chandeliers probably cost more than your yearly rent. As you step inside, you’re painfully aware of how out of place you look, despite Minju’s efforts to make you “presentable.”

The tailored suit she picked out for you fits fine, but the collar feels like it’s choking you, and the tie might as well be a noose. You tug at it instinctively, only to have Minju swat your hand away.

“Stop fidgeting,” she whispers, her voice low but firm.

“Ya, it feels like I’m wearing a straightjacket,” you mutter under your breath, glancing around at the other patrons. Everyone looks like they stepped out of a luxury magazine, and you feel like an impostor sneaking into their world.

Minju sighs, looping her arm through yours as she steers you toward the table. “You’re fine. Just... don’t embarrass me.”

“That’s a tall order,” you joke, earning a glare that makes you straighten up immediately.

As you approach the table, the man—Jae, or whatever his name was—stands to greet her. His suit is sharp, his smile even sharper, and he exudes the kind of confidence that comes from always being the most important person in the room.

Minju is poised as always, but you can tell she’s studying him with the precision of someone trained to spot subtleties. Her eyes flick to his tailored suit—dark, impeccably fitted, clearly custom-made. His watch glints under the low lighting, its sleek design screaming exclusivity. She notices how his shoes are polished to a mirror shine, a detail she quietly admires, though it’s more the habit of presentation than the man himself that earns her approval.

Her gaze lingers on his face for a moment longer. He’s conventionally handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline so chiseled it seems engineered. His skin is flawless, either naturally or through an aggressive skincare regimen, and his neatly styled hair has the kind of sheen that comes from salon-grade products.

But it’s his smile that makes her hesitate. It’s too practiced, too polished. The way his lips curve feels less like an expression of genuine emotion and more like a calculated performance. Minju can’t quite put her finger on it, but something about him feels... rehearsed.

“Minju,” he says, his voice smooth, “you’re even more stunning than I imagined.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Great start, mister.

Minju smiles politely. “Thank you. This is Y/n, my house helper and friend.”

Jae’s gaze flickers to you, and his smile tightens ever so slightly. “Ah, I see.”

You shake his hand, trying not to let his patronizing tone get under your skin. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” he replies, though you’re pretty sure he doesn’t mean it.

You sit down, carefully unfolding your napkin and placing it on your lap like Minju instructed. It’s a small gesture, but it feels absurdly formal. The waiter arrives almost immediately to take your drink orders, and Jae doesn’t even glance at the menu before ordering an expensive bottle of wine.

“Water’s fine for me,” you say, earning a subtle nudge from Minju under the table.

-

As the evening progresses, you can’t help but feel like a fish out of water. The silverware is arranged in a way that makes no sense to you, and you’re pretty sure you’ve been holding your fork wrong the entire time.

Jae, on the other hand, seems completely at ease, dominating the conversation with tales of his business ventures and luxury vacations.

“And of course,” Jae says, swirling his wine glass like he’s performing for an invisible audience, “I make it a point to give back. Philanthropy is very important to me.”

“That’s wonderful,” Minju says, her voice even.

You nod along, keeping your expression neutral even though every word out of his mouth makes you want to groan.

“So, Y/n,” Jae says suddenly, turning his attention to you for the first time all night. “What do you do besides housekeeping?”

“I’m Minju’s househelper…just housekeeper yeah.” you reply, keeping your tone polite.

He nods slowly, his smile almost condescending. “That’s... noble. It must be fulfilling to work for someone like her.”

“It is,” you say simply, ignoring the way his words make your stomach twist. "She's a good person to work for…"

Minju shifts uncomfortably, clearly picking up on the tension. “Y/n isn’t just my househelper,” she says, her tone sharp. “They’ve been with me for years. I trust them more than anyone.”

Her words catch you off guard, and you glance at her, surprised. There’s a sincerity in her voice that makes your chest tighten.

Jae, however, seems unfazed. “Of course,” he says smoothly. “Loyalty is such a rare quality these days.”

As he speaks, his voice is smooth, his words carefully measured to sound charming without crossing into arrogance. She notices how he holds her gaze just long enough to seem interested but shifts his focus to his wine glass in a way that feels almost dismissive. It’s subtle, but Minju catches it.

She always catches the subtleties.

Still, she plays along. She smiles when he compliments her, nods when he  launches into a monologue about his career—something to do with technology and blockchain, and asks polite questions to keep the conversation flowing. But every now and then, her gaze drifts to you. You’re sitting stiffly, your hands clasped in your lap, your eyes darting between the silverware and your plate like you’re trying to decode a secret message.

“And of course, we’re always looking for ways to innovate,” Jae says, swirling his wine like he’s in a movie. “The future is all about disruption.”

“Disruption?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds... interesting.”

Jae chuckles, a sound that grates on your nerves. “Yes, yes! It’s about breaking the norms, you know? Creating new opportunities.”

“Right,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Like disrupting this conversation with a sales pitch?”

Minju chokes on her sip of wine, quickly covering her mouth with a napkin. Jae’s smile falters for a moment before he recovers.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it a sales pitch,” he says, forcing a laugh. “I’m just passionate about what I do.”

“I can see that,” you reply, your tone flat.

Minju shoots you a warning look, but there’s a flicker of amusement in her eyes. You force a smile, resisting the urge to continue your sarcastic run.

For Minju’s sake, you bite your tongue and focus on the plate in front of you.

-

The meal itself is exquisite, but you’re too preoccupied to enjoy it. Every detail of the restaurant—from the pristine tablecloths to the hushed murmurs of other diners—feels like a reminder that you don’t belong here. But every time you catch Minju glancing at you, her expression soft with gratitude, it feels worth it.

She’s trying to hide her discomfort with Jae when she turned her attention back to him, but you can see it in the way her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. And that’s enough to keep you on your best behaviour, no matter how much you want to call him out on his smugness.

When Jae leans in to comment on the wine selection, Minju notes the way his cologne—a sophisticated, woody scent—lingers in the air. It’s pleasant, but it doesn’t linger with her the way simpler, more familiar things do. Like the faint scent of laundry detergent you carry when you come in from running errands, or the sharp tang of cleaning supplies after you’ve wiped down the counters.

She glances at him again, taking in the way he gestures with his hands—broad, sweeping movements that seem designed to command attention. He’s polished, no doubt about that. But Minju’s gut tells her that beneath the polish, there’s something... hollow.

By the time dessert arrives, you’ve somehow managed to keep your composure. Minju excuses herself to the restroom, leaving you alone with Jae.

“So,” he says, swirling the last of his wine, “you must see a lot, working for Minju. I imagine it’s quite the experience.”

“It is,” you reply, keeping your tone neutral.

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “You’re lucky, you know. Not many people get to be so close to someone like her.”

Your grip on your fork tightens, but you force a smile. “You’re right. I am lucky.”

Minju returns moments later, her presence immediately easing the tension. She glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Perfect,” you say, standing to help her with her chair. “Just perfect.”

-

As the evening progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that Jae is more interested in talking about himself than getting to know Minju. He interrupts her stories to share his own, checks his phone under the table, and even orders dessert without asking if she wanted any.

“Minju,” he says at one point, leaning forward with what you’re sure he thinks is a charming smile, “I have to say, you’re even more beautiful in person than you are on screen.”

“Thank you,” she replies, her smile tight.

“And I’m sure someone like you must have a very busy schedule,” he continues. “But if we were together, I’d make sure you had time to relax. Maybe even a vacation. The private villa I mentioned would be perf-”

“Excuse me, but what’s your favourite film of hers?” you interrupt, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Jae blinks, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been talking about how amazing Minju is,” you say, folding your arms on the table, “so I’m curious. What’s your favourite film of hers?”

Minju turns to you, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Well, uh...” Jae stammers, clearly scrambling. “There are so many great ones, it’s hard to choose.”

“Come on, Just pick one,” you press, leaning in slightly.

He clears his throat, his confidence wavering. “I think the one where she plays that, uh, spy? You know, the action movie.”

Minju tilts her head. “I’ve…never played a spy.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

“Oh, right,” Jae says quickly, laughing nervously. “I must’ve been thinking of someone else.”

You sit back, biting back a laugh. “Right, understandable. That's…a good suggestion for her next role.”

Minju also bit her lip, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

-

By the time you leave the restaurant, Jae’s enthusiasm has dwindled significantly. He bids Minju a somewhat awkward goodbye, promising to call, though you suspect she won’t answer.

Back at the house, Minju lets out a heavy sigh, kicking off her heels and tossing them unceremoniously by the door. “Well, that was a disaster,” she groans, plopping onto the couch with an exaggerated huff.

“You’re welcome,” you reply dryly, loosening the tie she forced you into. The thing’s been choking you all evening, but at least the dinner’s over. "Far out, this is choking me."

She shoots you a glare, though it lacks any real bite. “You didn’t have to roast the guy alive.”

“What? I was just asking innocent questions,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you loosen another button on your shirt. “If he can’t even name one of your works, he’s not worth your time.”

Minju groans again, pulling a throw pillow into her lap. “Maybe I’m just not meant to find someone. This is the fifth disaster in a row.”

The vulnerability in her voice makes your chest ache. You look over at her, noticing the way her shoulders slump and how she’s hugging the pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“Aish, you’ll find someone,” you say quietly, trying to sound reassuring but feeling like your words are hollow. “It’s not like you’re in a rush, right?”

She turns to you, her expression unreadable. “What if I’ve already found them?”

You blink. “What? Who? I kept track and you crossed all of them.”

“Well what if…the person I’ve been looking for has been here all along?” she says, her voice soft but steady, her gaze locked onto yours.

"Minju," you repeat, but it comes out like a plea. "The heck you're saying?"

She sits up, crossing her legs beneath her, and shifts closer to you. The pillow falls forgotten onto the floor as she leans in, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"Why do you think I’ve been dragging you to these dinners?" she asks softly.

"Uh…" You blink again, trying to piece together her meaning. "…Because you wanted my opinion on these guys?"

She shakes her head, a small, almost rueful smile tugging at her lips. "No, stupid. Because I wanted you to tell me they weren’t good enough for me. I wanted you to realize that no one else could ever measure up to you."

Your brain screeches to a halt. You can feel your face heating up, the familiar panic rising in your chest. “Uh... sure, yeah,” you stammer, scratching the back of your neck. “I-I mean, you’ve got me and all, but I don’t think I’d make a great husband. I can’t even fold fitted sheets properly.”

“Y/n, I’m serious.”

“Right, serious.” You laugh nervously, trying to deflect. “Well, you know what they say, the best relationships start with someone who knows how to fix your coffee machine when it breaks—”

“Jung Y/n.”

Her voice is firm this time, and it stops your rambling dead in its tracks. She shifts closer, her hand reaching out to rest on top of yours. The warmth of her touch sends a jolt through you, and you freeze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Kim Minju,” you say, your voice cracking slightly as you clear your throat. “You’re tired. It’s been a long day. Maybe sleep on this whole ‘husband-hunting’ thing, and tomorrow you’ll realize it was just—”

“It’s not ‘just.’” Her grip tightens, her eyes glistening with something you can’t quite name. “You’ve always been here for me. You know me better than anyone else, and you make me feel... safe. Like I don’t have to pretend to be anything other than myself.”

You swallow hard, feeling like your heart is about to beat out of your chest. “Minju, I... Look, you deserve someone who can give you the world. I’m just your househelper. The person who unclogs your sink when it’s backed up with hair.”

She laughs softly, shaking her head. “You’re more than that, and you know it.”

“Do I?” you blurt out, your voice louder than intended. “Because honestly, I’ve been trying to keep my distance for ages. You’re—you’re Kim Minju. Successful, gorgeous, amazing Minju. And me? I’m just—”

“Mine,” she interrupts, her voice barely a whisper.

That one word makes your entire argument crumble. You sit there, stunned, as she inches closer, her eyes searching yours.

"…Fair move, damn it." You muttered, ignoring the rapid beating of your hearts and the continuous butterfly in your stomach.

“So…are you really going to make me spell it out?” she teases, though her voice is laced with emotion.

You let out a nervous laugh, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “Well, I do like it when people are straightforward, so maybe a—”

Her lips meet yours before you can finish your sentence. It’s soft, tentative, and completely disarming. Your mind goes blank, every sarcastic comeback dying on your tongue.

When she pulls away, her cheeks are flushed, but her eyes are steady. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I—uh—” You blink rapidly, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Yeah, no big deal. Happens all the time. People confess their undying love to their house helpers every day.”

Minju giggles, leaning her forehead against yours. “You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, but you’re still here,” you mutter, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Always,” she whispers.

Her fingers lace with yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself believe. You let yourself hope. Because the real one wasn’t someone Minju needed to find—it was someone who had always been beside her, waiting.

And now, finally, she’s chosen you.

[childrenofcain-if]

That one scenario where C and MC have a kid has my heart completely 😭 Can we get a follow up for that? How are things going on in the joint household? I'm also very curious to see what C would name their kid 🤭

the hershey’s kisses glinted in the late afternoon sun, crinkled foil catching the golden light that streamed in through the window. aster sat cross-legged on the sofa, a small island of contentment in the messy sprawl of school bags and discarded socks she’d left in her wake.

she was humming under her breath as she unwrapped another piece of chocolate, oblivious to the way her shoes lay in two opposite corners of the room and how her lunchbox sat precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and watching her with the detached amusement of a parent who knows they’ll have to clean up the mess but hasn’t yet summoned the energy to do so.

C was in the armchair, one foot propped on the edge of the ottoman, clicking through their macbook with half an eye on aster. it was domesticity in its sweetest form, the kind you don’t think about when you’re young and idealistic, imagining love and family like perfect polaroids on a wall.

“did you give her those?” C asked suddenly, their voice louder than the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

you blinked and set your coffee down, moving closer to inspect the crumpled foil wrappers littered around aster.

“nope,” you said after a beat. “not exactly either of our flavor. that’s… what is that, cherry? we don’t have those in the house.”

C arched a brow, and without missing a beat, turned their full attention to your daughter.

“aster,” they said, voice soft but with a worried edge, “where did you get the chocolates?”

aster’s head snapped up, her chalcedony green eyes lighting up with excitement.

“felix gave them to me!” she said, her grin wide enough to show the little gap where her front tooth had fallen out last week.

C froze, their hand tightening slightly on the edge of their macbook. you, on the other hand, were far more amused.

“felix, huh?” you said, crouching slightly to meet aster’s eye level. “and who’s felix again?”

her grin grew impossibly wider as she happily declared: “my boyfriend!”

you chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “oh, really? you have a boyfriend now, kleine ster? when did this happen?”

“this morning actually!” aster exclaimed, bouncing a little on the cushions. “he gave me the chocolates at recess and said he liked me, and i said i liked him too, and now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend!”

C’s eye twitched, a muscle jumping just beneath the surface. they sat up straighter, their attention now fully honed on your seven-year-old’s revelation.

“did he now?” they said, their voice tight. “and what else did this... felix boy say?”

aster frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “uh… he said i could have the last red crayon in art class.”

“generous of him,” they muttered darkly, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“C,” you said warningly, but they ignored you, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone about to conduct an interrogation.

“and does this felix… hold your hand?” they asked, their tone too casual to be actually genuine.

“sometimes,” aster admitted, her brows knitting together.

C’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “does he share his lunch with you?”

“yeah, today he gave me his oreos!”

C’s jaw twitched. you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“C,” you said again, a little louder this time. “let it go, darling. they’re just kids.”

but they were too far gone now, leaning forward as though proximity might grant them any sort of control over the situation.

“aster,” they said with all the solemnity of someone at a funeral, “you can’t have a boyfriend. you’re too young. your brain isn’t fully developed. you’ll... you’ll explode! you’ll leave your parents all alone then and it’ll make us very sad.”

aster blinked at them, unwrapping another hershey’s kiss with deliberate slowness.

“i will explode?” she asked, clearly confused by this turn of events.

you rolled your eyes. “no, you wo—”

“yes, you will,” C insisted, cutting you off. “and anyway, you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re like 30 and paying taxes. it’s a rule.”

“that’s not a rule,” aster said with the stubborn certainty of someone who knew she was right. she really was her parents’ daughter. “and felix is a good boy.”

“‘good,’” C muttered under their breath, glaring at the imaginary felix as though he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to hand their precious little star another chocolate. “i’m going to fight this seven-year-old.”

“C!” you snapped, stepping between them and placing a hand on C’s shoulder. “calm down, my love. it’s harmless.”

C leaned back reluctantly, their gaze flicking between you and aster, who was now watching them like they’d sprouted a second head.

“fine,” they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

***

after dinner, aster sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a tiny instruction manual for building LEGOs with the intensity of someone decoding the human genome. her fingers, small but deft, picked up pieces and slotted them into place, her movements sure and deliberate.

C sat beside her, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath them, one hand bracing their bad knee. their fingers worked slower than hers, more hesitantly. the gap between them—her bright enthusiasm, their cautious quiet—was almost laughable. but C didn’t laugh.

they watched her instead.

aster had inherited their stubbornness, the precision of their thoughts, the way they spoke with certainty even when they were wrong, the hard-headed refusal to back down in the face of a challenge. but she’d also inherited your warmth, your easy charisma, the way people seemed to orbit around you like you were some kind of gravitational force.

she was both of you, but neither of you. something wholly her own. and she shone so brilliantly.

“non,” aster said suddenly, shaking her head. she spoke in a tone that was equal parts exasperated and amused, the way one might speak to a child who couldn’t quite grasp a simple concept. “that piece goes here. look.” she leaned over, plucking a flat blue brick from the pile and snapping it into place on the half-constructed spaceship.

“ah,” C said, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “of course, petite étoile. how foolish of me.”

she beamed proudly, her confidence growing with each small victory.

“it’s okay. you’re still learning,” she said magnanimously, patting their arm. honestly, it amused C greatly to see her reflect you back when you both argued everyday like your life depended on it.

C snorted, shaking their head. “merci, mademoiselle.”

“pas de problème,” she replied breezily, her accent and pronunciation impeccably like a parisian native.

C felt a pang of pride so sharp it was almost painful. french had been one of their gifts to her, a piece of their heritage they had handed down like an heirloom. and she had taken to it effortlessly, as if it had always been hers.

she slipped between languages with a grace that left C in awe, her young mind absorbing everything like a sponge.

“wat is dit?” she asked suddenly, holding up a strange piece they hadn’t encountered yet.

“hmm,” you said from where you were sprawled on the couch, your legs stretched out and a book resting on your chest. you barely looked up as you answered her in dutch, explaining what the piece was and where it might fit.

aster nodded thoughtfully, her small fingers turning the piece over as she considered its possibilities. C watched her, their heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief.

how could someone so small hold so much brilliance? how could she be so much more than they had ever dared to imagine for themself?

“do you think felix likes LEGOs?” aster asked suddenly, breaking their reverie. she was staring at them now, her eyes—C’s eyes, pale green and perceptive—narrowed in thought.

C felt their jaw tighten at the mention of the boy, the ghost of their earlier irritation flickering to life.

“i have no idea,” they said evenly, focusing on the spaceship.

aster tilted her head, clearly unconvinced by their tone.

“he’s nice,” she said firmly, as though this simple fact should erase all of C’s doubts.

“i’m sure he is,” C said, their tone carefully neutral.

you glanced up from your book, smirking slightly as you watched the exchange. let it go, your eyes seemed to say.

but it wasn’t that simple.

it wasn’t about this felix boy, not really. it was about aster, about the inexorable passage of time, about the impossibility of holding on to something as fragile and fleeting as childhood. she was growing up, and there was nothing C could do to stop it.

C reached for another LEGO brick, their fingers brushing against aster’s. she looked up at them, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“tu vas bien?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.

the question caught them off guard. for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. how could they explain the tangled mess of emotions that had been simmering inside them all day? how could they tell her that the thought of her growing up terrified them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate?

“i’m fine, petite étoile,” they said eventually, forcing a smile. “just tired.”

she seemed to accept this, turning her attention back to the spaceship. but C couldn’t help noticing the small furrow in her brow, the way her hands moved more slowly now, as if she was trying to puzzle something out.

they watched her in silence, their heart aching with a strange, bittersweet kind of love.

***

later, when the spaceship was complete and aster had been tucked into bed, C found themself sitting on the edge of your shared bed, their head in their hands.

“okay,” you said, sitting beside them. “do you want to talk about what exactly is bothering you, my love?”

they sighed, looking up at you now.

“it’s just… strange,” they said, their voice low and tired. “she’s growing up so fast. too fast. i feel like i blinked, and suddenly she’s not my little girl anymore.”

you stayed quiet, letting them find the words.

“i still remember holding her in my arms for the first time,” they continued, their voice thick with emotion. “i remember her first steps, her first word, the first time she looked at me and called out for me. and now… now she’s talking about boyfriends and whatnot.”

they let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through their hair. “i didn’t have this. a proper childhood. a father who cared. i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. i just… i look at her, and i love her so much it terrifies me. so much so that i still don’t understand how my father could—”

“hey,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on their arm. “you’re nothing like him. you’re such a wonderful parent, C. she loves you so much. you can see it every time she looks at you. and yeah, it’s hard watching her grow up. but that’s the deal. you love them, and you let them go, little by little, so they can become who they’re meant to be.”

C nodded slowly, their eyes softening as they looked at you. “i know you’re right.”

you leaned in, pressing a kiss to their temple. “of course i’m right, i always am.”

they rolled their eyes, but a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.

“do you think…” they hesitated, the tips of their ears turning adorably red. “do you think we should have another one?”

“another what?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

they scowled, burying their face in your neck.

“you know what i mean,” they mumbled, their voice muffled. “don’t make me say it out loud.”

you laughed, stroking their hair. “we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

but you already knew the answer.

[bet-on-me-13]

Captive AU

So, the GIW has been around for a while.

Ghosts have been a problem for centuries, the US Government wouldn't have waited until the 21st Century to figure out a way to deal with them, so the GIW has been around for years. And the general Public knows about them, it's a common household name like the FBI or the CIA. They are simply seen as another government organization doing its job, no need to care about the Ghosts they capture, they're Non-Sentient anyways.

Over the years of their existence, they have acquired their own little prison full of Ghosts. And among that collection of Ghosts, 4 stand out.

Because they are somehow Ghost-Human Hybrids.

The first was captured a while before the others. A College Student studying Ectology had been admitted to the Hospital after a Lab Accident, where he had been diagnosed with an, as of yet, unknown and incurable Disease. He had Green Boils popping up all over his Face, and he was in excruciating Pain.

The GIW had sent a team to investigate, and they had found that the College Student was slowly transforming into some type of abomination. He was still partially human, but he was also partially a Ghost. They had him declared Dead and shipped him off to a Blacksite Facility to be experimented on.

...

The Second One came about 10 years later. Coincidentally, it was very similar circumstances. The very same pair of scientists who had been acquainted with their previous subject had just admitted their 5 Yr old son into a local Hospital. He had been in a Lab Accident that had stopped his Heart for a few minutes, and out of curiosity the GIW had sent a Team to investigate.

And what did they find, but a perfect recreation of their favorite Test Subject.

They declared the Child Dead, and sent him off to the same Facility they kept the other one in.

...

The 3rd of the Hybrids was actually created in a GIW Lab, 3 Years Later. In an experiment to see if the Hybrids condition could be recreated, a GIW Scientist had taken the DNA of the 2 existing Hybrids and had cloned them.

Of the Test Batch of 15, only 1 Subject survived. It was deemed only a Partial Success, because while they did manage to create a New Hybrid, it was Unstable and prone to melting if overexerted.

They placed it in the same Containment Unit as the other 2, and left it at that. No more Cloning Experiments had been conducted afterwards since the project was deemed an overall Failure.

...

The 4th and Final Hybrid was found in Gotham City of all places, 2 years later.

A GIW Operative had been visiting Family when their Van's Ecto-Detector had gone off. Soon after that they found the Subject in an Alleyway, seemingly disoriented from its recent awakening.

DNA testing had revealed the Hybrid to be deceased Jason Peter Todd, the adopted Son of Bruce Wayne who had been killed 6 Months Prior while studying in Ethiopia. By the Scientists Best Guess, an Anomoly in Space-Time had caused a Natural Portal to open right on top of the Teenagers Corpse, fusing his Deceased Body and nearly formed Ghost into One.

They shipped the Teen off to the Blacksite, and placed him in the same Containment Unit as the others.

...

So now the GIW have 4 Hybrids, all created from different circumstances, all different ages.

One was formed from the Slow Death of a College Age Student, after a Lab Accident had flooded his system with Pure Ectoplasm.

One was form from the Instant Death of a 5 yr old Boy, after a Lab Accident had flooded his Body with a dimensions worth of Ectoplasm.

One was created in a GIW Lab in a Cloning Experiment. She was created to be 3 Yrs Old upon Birth, and was Unstable as a Result.

One was created from the Fusion of a Long Dead Teenage Corpse and a nearly formed Ghost, in a random Space Time Event that forced both together.

...

All the Halfas are basically a Family together. Vlad is the oldest, at around 35, and takes the Paternal Role.

Danny and Ellie are the Kids, and are 10 and 5 respectively.

Jason is the Oldest Child, and takes his Older Brother role very seriously. He is 15 when he is brought in.

They all take care of eachother, through all the experiments and tests the GIW force them through.

One of the most common experiments is to have them battle the other Ghosts in Captivity. Although that is just a thinly veiled dog fighting ring that the GIW scientists like to Bet on. Sometimes they are put up against eachother, but they refuse to fight until they are electrocuted into submission.

They were also forced to Push all of their Powers to their Limits every day, just so the Scientist can see how they are growing. This had drained them, since they only got the absolute minimum amount of Ecto to survive off of, and they were forced to use it all up every day.

This goes on for 3 more years.

...

Until the day when the GIW messed up.

During one of their Constant Dog Fights, they had made the mistake of putting two Electricity Core Ghosts against eachother. The resulting battle had created an Electromagnetic Wave that fried all systems in the entire Facility.

It was a Disaster. Dozens of Scientists were killed when the Door Locks failed to contain the captive Ghosts, and even more were injured when a few of the Ghosts managed to break into the Armory on Base.

It was only hours after the whole ordeal was Finally quelled that they realized that their most Valuable Test Subjects were missing.

Vlad, Danny, Jason, and Ellie had taken the chance to run away during the commotion. Vlad had unfortunately been injured during the escape, and Ellie had been forced to use her powers causing her to destabilize a little, but all in all they had managed to escape on one piece.

But now they were fugitives on the run from the Government, with an injured adult and a sick child.

Jason had an Idea though. While he didn't have very clear memories of his life, a side effect of his late resurrection, he did remember that he used to live in Gotham. And they all remember researchers grumbling about how their scanners always malfunction when they passed nearby Gotham.

So, Jason led his little Family to the most Familiar place in the city he could think of.

Crime Alley.

[propertyofwicked]

you're gonna go far - ln

♬ so pack up your car, put a hand on your heart. say whatever you feel, be wherever you are...

warnings: angst. thats kinda it icl

masterlist the playlist

at 16, had anyone asked y/n where she saw her life now, she probably wouldn’t have expected to answer that she was still watching lando’s career in motorsport blossom into a legacy. not that she didn’t imagine him being successful, it was just hard to comprehend that the boy who fell asleep in the back of his dads car on the way back from a karting race would one day be one of the most successful formula one racers on the 21st century. the boy who wiped sweat from his forehead, his other hand shaking as he raised the flowers he held up and mumbled a quick “will you be my girlfriend?”

and when lando got his first break in racing, y/n was there, cheering the loudest, her eyes shining with pride.

at 18, the two laid together, having late-night conversations about their futures, promising to support each other no matter what. lando was progressing in his career, working closely with mclaren, y/n was looking at universities, dreaming of what she would spend the rest of her working life pursuing.

and at 20, moving into the flat had been a dream come true. lando's career with mclaren soared. he became a household name, known for his skill and charisma on and off the track. y/n was always there, cheering him on, even when she couldn't be at the races in person. and the two found solace in returning to their little flat, cooking together, being surrounded by each other in every aspect.

but at 22, she did not think that she would be sat in their home, hands tightly gripping a mug between her hands, the sun casting a golden hue that spread softly throughout the flat.

the distance between them had grown. the long hours, the constant travel, and the relentless demands of the sport started to take their toll. y/n felt it most on the nights she was alone in their flat, the silence a stark contrast to the roar of engines and the cheers of the crowd. she tried to fill the void but nothing couldn't mask the loneliness that crept in.

lando's absence became more frequent. their once lively home felt emptier with each passing day. phone calls and video chats couldn't bridge the gap, and y/n found herself missing the little things - his laugh, his touch, the way he made her feel alive. she tried to stay positive, reminding herself of his dreams and the promise she had made to always support him.

the air was thick with unspoken words as they stood in the kitchen. the flat was filled with a tense silence that neither of them knew how to break - it was like this any time he came home recently. lando seemed restless, his eyes avoiding hers. finally, he broke the silence.

"i'm planning on moving to monaco," he said matter-of-factly, his voice steady but lacking its usual warmth, "it's the best move for my career, to be closer to other drivers and in a better position to travel to races."

y/n felt her heart clench, a wave of numbness washing over her. she couldn’t reason with him, she didn’t want to. understanding that their relationship had been unravelling for a while. she had become an afterthought, a part of his past that didn't quite fit into his future.

"i understand," she replied softly, her voice void of emotion.

lando looked at her, his expression a mix of relief and regret. he stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm, but she pulled away gently.

"it's okay," she whispered. "i know you're gonna go far. this is the best decision for you career," she said, echoing his previous statement, void of any ability to fight this.

and across the following weeks, as lando packed his things, y/n watched from a distance, feeling detached from the life they had built together. the memories of their laughter, their dreams, and their love seemed like distant echoes. she moved through the days like a ghost, mentally distanced from everything around her, unable to talk to anyone about the emptiness growing inside her.

she missed the way he would come home and wrap his arms around her, the way they would stay up late talking about their dreams. she missed the feeling of being loved. they hadn’t even discussed the break up, or the fact they had even broken up - “im moving to monaco” was a weighted sentence, a statement that had no place for her.

when the day came for lando to leave, y/n stood by the door, her eyes dry and her heart heavy. he hugged her one last time, and she held on just a moment longer, savouring the last trace of lando in her life.

"take care," she murmured, almost coldly, before stepping back and letting him go.

as the door closed behind him, y/n felt a hollow ache in her chest. she knew lando was destined for greatness, but the price had been their love. she sat down in the empty flat, the silence now a testament to what had been lost. she wandered from room to room, each corner filled with memories of a time when they had been inseparable.

their friends noticed the change in y/n, the way her laughter no longer reached her eyes, the way she seemed to be merely existing rather than living. they tried to reach out, to offer comfort, but she couldn't bring herself to talk about the emptiness she felt. she painted smiles on her face, but inside, she was numb, unable to process the loss of the person who had been her world.

as months went by, y/n threw herself into her work, hoping to find solace in the one thing that had always been constant in her life. she worked hard, she improved, but every achievement felt hollow without lando by her side. she watched his races on tv, feeling a mix of pride and sorrow. he was going far, just as she had always known he would, but he was doing it without her.

standing on the balcony of their flat, looking out over the city they had once explored together, the lights of london stretched out before her, a reminder of the dreams they had shared. the city looked the same, the lights still cascaded through the rows of buildings, the cars still sped through the streets at all times of the day. how could she be angry? he was achieving his dreams, she was doing the same. it wasn’t fair to keep him here against his own volition.

it wasn’t fair, but it didn’t make it any easier. it didn’t stop her from hurting, thinking about how easily he’d left her behind in search for something greater. she took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to move on, let go of the past, find a new path.

with a heavy heart, y/n too began packing up the flat, each item a reminder of the life they had built together. she carefully wrapped up the photos, the mementos of their time together, and placed them in boxes.

when the flat was finally empty, y/n stood in the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been their home. she knew it was time to close this chapter and start a new one, to find her own path, even if it meant doing it alone. as she locked the door behind her, she whispered a silent goodbye to the life they had shared, knowing that lando was destined to go far and that she had to find her own way, with or without him.

[sxorpiomooon]

YOU AS A CELEBRITY - PAC READING

Paid readings (tarot and astrology)

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

pile 1-

the vibe I'm getting is of someone who will get chosen purely on the basis of luck and the potential that they might have and then they'll have to put all the hardwork. Unlike other people your hardwork will come after you get picked. This reminds me sort of the anoy yai situation but a k-pop idol situation also keeps coming to my mind. I also see you being a household name and people or families will love seeing you together and I also see you gaining popularity in your home town. you might be a cancer placement if you took this pile, very ambitious people and I see you being mostly a loner because of all the jealousy and competition that will surround you. I see young people especially having a liking to you lmao there's youthful energy here I also see you guys being the most popular out of these three lmao mainly bc I see you guys going into every field and the promotion will be really good I keep having visions of you sitting in tv shows talking also interacting with the general public.

Pile 2

Ooo people will love you, you will be the star of everyone's eyes. I see you might also be an encouraging and inspiring figure to people and people looking up to you. I see this pole might give really good speeches lmao. I also see you guys becoming popular since day 1 and getting tons of sponsorships, pr packages etc. however I see alot of chaos I think the popularity will of course come with its own disadvantages. You guys might be in people's eyes too much all the time I'm sort of reminded of the Britney situation and I see you guys losing your interest and getting just really exhausted because of this. There is also legacy here this reminds me of the Paris Hilton and Kim k situation she started to gain popularity by being around her in the beginning I see your fame coming from someone else in the beginning be it your family members or friends this is like a pile of star kids someone who might already know popular people or soon will. I'm honestly getting leo vibes but could also be venus ruled signs

Pile 3

I see this pile working hard it gives the vibe of someone who knows that this is want they want and they have to do there is no luck here simply hard work and dedication. I also feel as if this pile might either get scammed in the beginning when they'll be establishing yourself or might just come across alot of tricky people in their life testing their passion. You might also gain appreciation from people for your donations and charity I see this pile speaking up about issues alot and using their platform to spread awareness. I see the fame of this pile taking some time. I see you guys working really hard and in the end it will pay off. You guys will be humble and generous. All the fame that this pile will get will come from their own hardwork it will not be handed to them they will make their own place. Aries, Taurus, Virgo placements i think

thankyou!!!

[killuakiru]

Hiii hru? I was wondering if I could request gon and killua (seperate) with a fem reader that is very girly? And I know it’s kinds weird but she kinda has pretty privilege and will literally get whatever she wants by winning at some other teenager. Shes very kind and sweet though so she doesn’t take advantage of it. Sorry if that’s kind of odd and if you don’t want to write it it’s ok🫶 love you!

HI ANON !! It's completely alright 🫡 I find this request rly cute as my other post was the exact opposite ! Thank you for making this request 🫰 Apologies if its ooc ( out of character ), but I had soo much fun writing this !

⊹₊⋆ IT Girl !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⊹₊⋆ Girly!Reader x Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecss ( Separate ! )ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

༉‧₊˚. Let's Start !༉‧₊˚.

༉‧₊˚. Killua Zoldyck !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Now let's all be honest ! The first time Killua met you, he probably felt so annoyed and kept grumbling how they were teams with a "girl." As the stereotypical boy he is.

• But despite Killua's comments, you were so unbothered and even excused his actions?! He was stunned! Because if that was him, he'd internally judge them!

• But honestly, Killua underestimated you. In Killua's eyes, you looked so.. fragile? Yet your performance in combat impressed him! You were pretty agile, and you had a smart mind— not to mention, you were pretty, too! Not like he would say that out loud.

• During the final examination, yk the time where he killed an applicant? He could see you from his peripheral vision, and he saw genuine worry and concern for him. HIM. He found that so odd that a girl like you would worry for him.

• When you rescued him, that look in your eyes just SCREAMED affection, and that just hit Killua in the gut, y'know? Who wouldn't fumble in their words when such a pretty and sweet girl like [Name] comes running to them with an expression like that.

• See now— in Killua's case, he's never been with a caring or sweet female since almost everyone is his household is literally fucked up. So you were a new case for him.

• Nonetheless, he was pretty honored and glad you came for him out of everyone.

• And so, he slowly warmed up to you, even growing comfortable to the point he'd randomly touch your hair, arms, fingers, just any where he thinks that looks odd or pretty.

• Yes ! He sometimes stares at your features and finds himself admiring them. Well who wouldn't?! The way you bat your eyelashes so innocently, the way your lip gloss reflects the sun in a positive elegant way when you smile, complimenting your teeth, the way your blush makes your cheeks so much more squishy he just wants to—

• "Killua? You okay? You're zoning out again." [Name] says in amusement with Gon just looked at the boy who was staring, Killua blinked twice and hummed in a nonchalant manner, placing his hands behind his back and shrugged. "I'm perfectly fine. Better than ever. Let's get going again."

• There was one time where there's this one kid around their age who was gatekeeping Killua's the store's choco robots and you came to Killua's rescue, using your very cutesy face card to convince the kid to at least have 3!

• After that, Killua looked at you like you're some kind of GODDESS. He's been trying to convince that kid and you did it so effortlessly?! Even snagging him an extra one?! Oh you're his favorite now.

༉‧₊˚. Gon Freecss !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• He found you SUUUPER cute and charismatic ! Like the whole time you two were talking, he'd always sneak in a compliment ! His words flattered you a bunch, too !

• He's like a natural smooth talker 'cause WHAT?! Every compliment / comment he makes about you leaves your heart beating!

• Instead of you making him flustered, you ALWAYS find yourself stammering over your words. Was it you who fell in love first or was it him?!

• Honestly with how smooth he is you're starting to think he treats every girl like this.. ( Spoiler, he doesn't )

• During the Heaven's Arena training, he was genuinely worried since you'd often wear skirts, but turns out you were already prepared! Introducing the.. skort! While it looks like an ordinary skirt, there were already built in shorts inside to prevent the creeps from looking!

• Similarly to Killua, he finds himself staring but is shamelessly doing it. When you stare back, he smiles. SMILES so charmingly, making YOU look away and he laughs.

• He loves the fact you get along with anyone you see or talk to !! It's probably because of your looks and personality, but nonetheless he supports you !!

• okay but I js know he's really vocal with your favorite features !! He probably loves your hair since it looks so silky, smooth, and soft to the touch! He also probably loves your nails too ! Almost having new and different styles monthly and he loves making guesses and predictions on what the design / style it'll be !!

• oh and, he absolutely LOVES how you do a wardrobe change almost everyday, you and Killua do a bunch of fashion shows together and Gon rates them :3

• His favorite fits are probably the ones with the very long skirts that reach the ankles with a comfy top, just anything that reminds him of Mito !

• He loves all the girls in his life equally :3 a lot of things reminds him of you and Mito ! So when he brought you and Killua to Whale Island to meet Mito, he was really happy that you got along well with his mother <3

• This was honestly his go signal to just shoot his shot, what could he lose? His mama loves you so much ! And he does too !! And so does Killua !! Everyone approves of you !!

༉‧₊˚. End !༉‧₊˚.

Thank you for reading ! This strictly belongs to me / killuakiru and I do not give permission for you to repost on other platforms, thank you !

[avtrbee]

safe

✢ summary: just like everyone else, sometimes megumi just wants his mom.

✢ tags: mentions of the death of a pet, implied satoru x reader

✢ a/n: my friend has psychoanalyzed me with a diagnosis of mommy issues and i have always denied them. then i caught myself reflecting on what type of fanfics i write. especially this one.

Ever since Megumi had started school in Tokyo, he was barely home. Of course, he comes home every now and then, and living within the school's dormitories is part of the high school experience- hell, even you stayed in the school when you were a student- but the house is quiet without him, too quiet, which is probably why he does not go home as often as you'd like- that, among other things.

Everyone in your household knew that Tsumiki was what made your house into a home. Your girl always greeted you with a smile and volunteered to make hot meals for the family when you and Satoru didn't feel like cooking. She was warmth, she was energy, she was life. Until she wasn't.

The house became cold without its fire. You couldn't blame Megumi for wanting an escape from the halls that still echo her memory. Which was why you were surprised to see him sitting on the couch with his arms resting on his thighs, hands buried in his face.

"Megumi?" You call. "I didn't hear you come in."

His head lifts up and looks at you. "Liar," he accuses. "You can sense my cursed energy miles away. You knew I was coming home as soon as you felt it ."

His words were harsh but his tone was not off of his usual deadpan manner of speaking. You can't help but smile. He is still the same child who refused to sleep unless he clung to his divine dogs, Tsumiki, you, or Satoru (reluctantly, of course) in some way. He claimed it was for "warmth."

But he knows you as much as you know him. As he made his way to the house, you noticed something- his cursed energy was off. It was more powerful than usual. Of course, it could be a good thing- perhaps he was doing really well in school, but his downcast eyes and even broodier vibe are telling you otherwise. "What's wrong?"

Megumi leans back on the couch, sighs, and contemplates. He stares at your wall that is decorated with framed pictures and pictures you memories from his childhood. You've even framed pictures of his drawings- usually doodles of his shikigami.

He stands abruptly. "Never mind," he dismisses. "I don't wanna- I don't want to talk about it. It's childish and stupid-"

"Stupid enough to make you retreat back home?" You ask. You watch as your question sinks in through Megumi. Slowly, he sits back down. You sit on the other end of the couch.

"What's wrong, 'Gumi?" You ask again. "Tell me." I can fix it. Whatever it is, if I can fix it, I will shouts your inner thoughts.

"I lost one of them," Megumi whispers.

“Oh, Megumi, I-” you say, racking your brain for something to say. Deaths in the jujutsu world is so common that when you’re within the industry for too long you get used to it. “Losing a colleague- this won’t be the first time, baby. Nor will it be the last.”

“No,” Megumi groans out frustrated. There are tears streaming down his cheeks that he angrily wipes away. “My dogs. I lost one. I- Yuki died.”

Your heart breaks at Megumi’s childhood name for his white demon dog. “‘Gumi, I’m so sorry-”

You move to his side of the couch, wide arms open. Megumi falls in, just like he did when he was small. Megumi feels himself melt in your hold, his walls and defenses crumbling away like ash.

Megumi refuses to cry at all times but when you have his arms wrapped around him he finds himself not caring at all. It was like his heart recognized you too.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you pretend not to feel his tears.

You hold him until he lets you. Megumi is the one to pull away, and you never do. This boy js fickle with touch, and you always leave the duration of your hugs to his discretion.

You cup his face in your hands, thumbs swiping away the tear tracks. You’ve never seen Megumi this heartbroken before.

“I told him to scout the area and I just left him for a second- and he-” Megumi hiccups. “His head was on the wall. The curse threw his head so hard it made the pavement crack.”

You do not pretend to know his pain for you will never feel it. Megumi’s divine dogs were his first achievement. He smiled the first time he summoned them, even as Satoru threw him in the air in joy. Those dogs would trail after him in the house, obeying his command. You would turn a blind eye to the spare pieces of meat Megumi throws under the table just so they could taste cooked beef.

Megumi would refuse to let them go even when he slept, and was upset that they would disappear when he rested or lowered his guard. As a present, Satoru gifted him customized stuffed animals of the dogs that he never slept without. You were sure he packed those toys with him in the dorm.

When Tsumiki volunteers to run errands, Megumi would summon a dog and follow her. Just in case. They both always came back safe.

“He just did what I commanded, he was good, he was a good boy.” Megumi said, in a quieter voice.

“The best,” you agreed. “But didn’t Yuki merge with the other one? Isn’t that how your technique works when one of them dies?”

“It’s stupid-” A glare from you was all it took. “It’s not the same,” he admits. “I just want my dogs back.”

You give him a sad smile. You pull him close for another hug, and he melts in your arms once again but this time, he does not pull away. You hold him until his tears have dried, until his breaths slowed down, and until his eyes closed for a well deserved rest.

extra note: yuki apparently means snow in japanese. get it? snow=white demon dog (im not creative at all yall)

[marybeatriceofmodena]

What did Andrew Lloyd Webber do to make Patti Lupone upset? Sorry, saw your tags and i was curious

Oh.

Oh honey.

You sweet child.

Anyway, get ready for one of the most infamous showdowns in all musical theatre history, with the guy who writes the straightest musicals on Broadway (derogatory) and the one and only, the matriarch, the queen, two three-time Tony award winner Patti LuPone.

So, Andrew Lloyd Webber was basically kind of a boy genius in his prime - he met his future collaborator Tim Rice when they were 17 and 20 respectively, he wrote his first big hit, Jesus Christ Superstar, at 22, with Tim Rice writing the lyrics. And it was kind of a big deal at the time because the topic was controversial (you know, the Passion with rock music), but also because Broadway wasn't that far off from its golden age and let's just say the music and style were very different from, say, My Fair Lady. Or The Sound of Music. Or Funny Girl. It was basically the Rent/Hamilton of its time. (Yeah, Stephen Sondheim was around at that time, he worked on West Side Story which was revolutionary in of itself, but he's kind of an oddball in this case. You'll understand why later.)

Their real follow up (I'm not counting Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for a variety of reasons) was a little musical called Evita, which you might know mainly because of a song called Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Or at least, your mom has probably heard it once at the very least. It's that song that's oversung from a musical while being out of context along with I Dreamed a Dream for Les Misérables. Or Memory from Cats.

Evita tells the story of Eva Peron, the wife of an Argentinian dictator, who basically screws her way to the top and ends up becoming the mistress of Juan Peron and the most beloved woman in her country through guile and deceit. Yes, I know the historical accuracy is very much debated but I know jackshit about Argentina's history except the bare basics so don't come at me. It was first produced in the West End in London, with Elaine Paige in the role, but because of Equity issues, she couldn't reprise her role for the Broadway production. So a Julliard graduate who was mostly starring in David Mamet plays got the part instead, and that was Patti LuPone.

Patti... did not have a good time during Evita, because the part is basically the kind of score where you can tell the composer is used to writing male parts, but most female singers have a two-octave range (yes, you got Julie Andrews who used to have a three-octave range, and many others, but they're exceptions), so she struggled a lot. That being said, if you listen to live recordings of her, you wouldn't be able to tell, and it got a lot easier later on. But she had this to say:

"Evita was the worst experience of my life. I was screaming my way through a part that could only have been written by a man who hates women. And I had no support from the producers, who wanted a star performance onstage but treated me as an unknown backstage. It was like Beirut, and I fought like a banshee."

This is from Patti's autobiography, which she wrote in 2007 - 8 years after shit with ALW went down. With all that said, she won a Tony Award for Evita, and she pretty much became a musical theatre household name from then on. She played Fantine in Les Misérables, Nancy in Oliver!, Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. Meanwhile, ALW's next big hits were Cats (I'm not even kidding, Cats was a hit), and, you guessed it, The Phantom of the Opera, which he wrote in part to showcase his then wife Sarah Brightman's triple threat talents.

So, you need to understand before I continue that ALW, from my perspective, has always had a bit of an inferiority complex. He's basically associated to writing these commercially successful musicals that show a big spectacle but aren't ultimately substantial. I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I do think that if he didn't have Hal Prince, Maria Bjornson, Charles Hart and Gillian Lynne backing him up for Phantom, it would have probably been a Rocky Horror Picture Show knockoff people would have forgotten about pretty quickly. This is what I mean:

Yep, that was Phantom before any of the people I mentioned above (and Michael Crawford) were really involved.

Remember how I said Stephen Sondheim was an oddball? The thing with him is that his musicals weren't always commercially successful, but in general, in part thanks to being Leonard Bernstein's protégé, he was generally pretty well-respected and it was considered that his work was bringing musicals to a whole other level. Without Sondheim, you wouldn't have Jonathan Larson, and you wouldn't have Lin-Manuel Miranda. I am convinced ALW is resentful of that, and when you stop and think about it for more than 10 seconds, it's so obvious he REALLY wants to be Sondheim or at least command the same level of respect, but that's a story for another day.

So, after Phantom, ALW had other musicals that followed that either got a meh reception or outright flopped. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which is based on the movie of the same name with Gloria Swanson. Despite all of her griefs for Evita, Patti LuPone agreed to partake in the musical as Norma Desmond, for its production in London, with the promise that she would transfer to Broadway once that production would open. And overall, after a string of flops, Sunset was actually doing pretty well.

HOWEVER. One day, while reading the gossip column of a newspaper, Patti found out that contrary to what she was promised, Glenn Close, who was meanwhile starring as Norma in the Los Angeles production, was to play Norma on Broadway. That was a complete surprise for her since no one on the production team had bothered to tell her it was happening - and keep in mind that for the news to come up the way it did in a gossip column, it probably would have necessitated a delay of a few weeks between the producers and the newspaper, which would have given them plenty of time to break the news to Patti. And Patti kind of needed the leg up because she was pretty bitter that a) Madonna was cast in the Evita adaptation instead of her; b) they actually lowered the key to fit Madonna's voice range, and she still had to expand her own to be able to sing the (lowered) score. And trust me, Patti is mad about it to this day.

So of course, she trashed her dressing room, the cast and crew weren't even mad about it because they were as shocked and angered as she was by the news. Patti sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for breach of contract, namely for 1 MILLION DOLLARS (yup, those are the real numbers), won, used the money she got from the lawsuit to get a swimming pool, which she called (and I SHIT YOU NOT) the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool. Since then, Webber is dead to her, to the point rumor has it she had part of a building blocked during an event so she could get out of it without coming across Webber, because she hates him so flipping much she doesn't even want to be in the same building as the guy.

(There's also drama that happened with Faye Dunaway who was supposed to replace Glenn Close after she went from Los Angeles to Broadway, except they abruptly closed the show down after Close left, but that's a story for another day)

So with all the bad press, and with ALW forced to pay 1 million dollars for Patti's lawsuit, that led Sunset's productions to close earlier than expected. ALW has stayed around since, with... mitigated output, so to say. The lowest point for a lot of people is Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom, which some people love, and that's fine, but it didn't do well with either critics nor fans of the original show, which ALW is EXTREMELY BUTTHURT ABOUT. And like, there are so many stories I could tell about LND alone, but I will share my own crack theory about it, since it does relate to the ask.

Anyway, buckle up.

So. There have been jokes going around for years that the Phantom in LND is basically ALW's self-insert, where he displays to the world that he's totally not over Sarah Brightman leaving him (in part because making Phantom kinda ruined their marriage lmao), despite, you know, having married since. (Aaaaaakward.) So LND basically becomes this really uncomfortable therapy session where a man writes a self-insert musical about how his ex-wife made a big mistake of leaving a sensitive artistic soul such as himself. The characters from Phantom who appear in LND are all more or less unrecognizable as a result, and one who gets it worse (in my humble opinion) is Meg Giry, who was basically Christine's sweet and loyal ballerina friend who basically went into the Phantom's lair on her own to save her friend despite the danger. In LND, she's basically a bitter hag (because ALW hates women, guess Patti was right about that), who really likes the swim and even has a stripping vaudeville number about it, written in universe by the Phantom, no less.

For comparison, here's Don Juan Triumphant (the Phantom's opera in the original):

And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):

Yeah, so... do you see why people hate LND already?

And that's not the only thing with Meg! She's also pining for the Phantom to pay attention to her and threatens to drown the Phantom and Christine's secret love child when he makes it clear that he's gonna love Christine for EVA AND EVA.

So, with everything we learned today about ALW, would someone like him view someone like Patti LuPone as some sort of crazy, bitter diva who's obsessed with him for whatever reason? Absolutely. Would he be petty enough to insert Patti LuPone into his self-insert musical, which gave us the version of Meg Giry we got in LND? Of course. Why does Meg love to swim so much and why does she drag Gustave out ostensibly for a swim? Is it a dig at Patti's Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool? Maybe.

I kind of hope we find out one day if that theory is true. And maybe start a kickstarter so Patti can add this painting from the 2004 movie in her collection.

Fun fact: during the process of casting for the 2004 movie adaptation of POTO, ALW allegedly suggested Patti LuPone to play Carlotta... only for Joel Schumacher to have to awkwardly remind him that they were not on speaking terms. The idea was therefore promptly dropped.

[daintcas]

lady killers ˗ˏˋ rafe cameron !

"man i'm a lady killer, if i want her i'mma steal her" / g-eazy

pairing. dealer!rafe cameron x innocent(ish)!reader

summary. his constant cycle of partying with privilege grants him anything he wants, until you show up to break the pattern.

contains. alcohol and drug use, tension, sexually suggestive, implied age gap, cliffhanger

the lifestyle comes with its perks, constantly surrounded by pretty girls who were more than willing to follow him upstairs. direct access to any substance he wanted, displayed messily across the polished coffee table at all times. not to mention the adrenaline-boosting boom of a surrounding party in some kid's ridiculously expensive house - thrown almost nightly.

it became a normality for him, whether or not he realized how unhealthy his habits may be. blinded by the attention, money, and already through-the-roof addition of popularity, the boy let himself be overcome by it all. but hey, isn't this how you're supposed to live life after graduation?

you, on the other hand, were never overly thrilled at the idea of occupying your time with what seemed to be an endless string of these things. that being said, it wasn't an unfamiliar scene after having wasted a couple of saturdays with friends before.

you also weren't one to deny the opportunity for a good night. which is why you didn't put up much of a fight when none other than sarah cameron insisted on your presence at a party she was hosting in her family's mansion.

she was friendly enough, but not to the extent of being by your side for the duration of the whole night because of an invite most likely given out to everyone in her contacts - that part had you a bit nervous. the idea of being stranded in a room full of highly intoxicated kids you hardly knew.

all precautions were eventually thrown out the window when you found yourself getting all dolled up in the bathroom mirror. mascara turning out perfect over a flawless base, hair down and flowing neatly, a strapless pale pink sundress you'd bought with sarah weeks ago tying it all together.

with one final application of lipgloss over expertly lined lips and a brief pose checking your reflection, you were headed out. fresh acrylics plucking your keys from the household bowl and looking down at your phone to check the time just as it rings, stopping your hand from unlocking the front door.

a sigh escapes you as you juggle everything in your hands to bring the device to your ear after blindly swiping to answer. a loud shout of your name has you flinching and furrowing your brows in confusion - and maybe annoyance. "yeah? hello?"

"c'mon, i'm outside!" a girl all but yells and it isn't until you hear a sweet, enthusiastic laugh that you recognize the voice.

"sarah?" you ask, though already having discarded the keys and slipped on your shoes lying ready by the doormat.

"let's go! i've got a party to entertain," the words are followed by the muffled sound of her shifting around, and you take it as your grace period to get outside before she takes off.

throwing open the door and hurrying down the steps of the front porch, you can't help but smile at the girl sitting in the driver's seat of a black jeep. beaming over at you, she hangs up the phone and ushers you over to the otherwise vacant car with a flailing hand.

the trip to tannyhill is filled with wide smiles and giggles over speakers blaring iconic summer songs. windows rolled down to take in an orangey-pink sky from the setting sun - which almost distracts from how sharp sarah takes what seems to be every turn in town.

the suv eventually comes to a stop after sliding down into the basement garage that screams wealth, right past all the cars lined up along the street. sarah hops out and offers a toothy grin while tossing her sunglasses in the center console.

"i'm so happy you're finally at one of my parties," she says while taking your hand and eagerly leading the way upstairs, her own dress swaying as she walks.

"me too," is all you offer in response, too entranced by the new level of rich that surrounds you while following blindly.

the mansion feels more like a maze as sarah leads you down and around hallways not yet crowded with partygoers. but, the blasting of music that vibrates the house says otherwise.

moonlight quickly replaces the sunshine, making visibility near impossible as you enter where the mass of everyone is. still hand in hand with sarah, you take the chance to look around.

between all the groups in the kitchen and on a makeshift dance floor, it's someone sitting among a circle of couches and chairs that has you doing a double take. turning back the second time is when you recognize the boy with his eyes still glued on you, wiping under his nose, to be rafe.

you don't miss the lazy smirk he shoots before sarah tugs you back to reality, finally dropping your hand and turning to stand face-to-face with the same excited smile.

"you'll be fine if i go say hi to a few people?" she asks, glancing across your face to genuinely gauge your feelings.

"'course. thanks, sarah," you answer convincingly enough that she's scurrying off to talk with whoever awaits her presence.

the best option you conclude is to go straight for the drinks. a quick scan of the counter and you're grabbing a red solo cup to fill with the first bottle you can get your hands on.

"better take slow sips of that," a voice behind you says, low and close enough to know it's you they're addressing. startled, you turn around, only to be face to face with rafe cameron. he must notice the way you tilt your head up with wide eyes, because he takes the opportunity to eye you up and step closer.

"you friends with sarah?" he asks as you set down the bottle of alcohol on the counter behind you, nodding casually - even with the way he's watching your every move so intently.

"mhm," you muster up, naturally a bit nervous standing under the mercy of 'kook prince' himself.

"yeahhh.." he draws out while taking a greedy eyeful of your whole being, tongue pressed to his cheek and making no effort to hide his arrogant smirk. there's a pause before he's nodding back towards the lounge he was previously sat without taking his eyes off you - your body. "y'wanna come with me and try the good shit?"

you look down at your cup when he taps it, swishing the cheap liquid while thinking over his offer. it doesn't take long before you're looking back up with a hesitant shake of your head and a small smile, murmuring, "don't think so.. not really my thing."

he tsks and shakes his head, taking it upon himself to ease the cup from your hand and positioning himself closer. he tilts his head to purposefully look down on you and get in your face, a smirk still present as he speaks lowly, "aww, c'mon. i'll keep you safe."

a nervous laugh and involuntary flush of your cheeks has you unable to refuse. rubbing your lip with a shy nod - admittedly not the most well-thought-out decision - and he's got a hand on your lower back to guide you, following close enough behind to allow his eyes to flicker subtly below your dress.

you approach the collection of seats, wary but not completely oblivious. rafe sits you down on a loveseat, hand moving to wrap around your waist and pull you to his side. the attention from this boy blurs the scene around you, rolled bills on the table, and various baggies with a particular white substance.

"so, um, what's the.. 'good' stuff?" you ask tentatively, looking up at him and shifting in the seat.

"'s all right here, baby," his grin is almost malicious and his eyes shamelessly drop to your lips. removing the arm around you, he spreads his legs and lifts his hips to fish for something in his back pocket.

you take the opportunity to look around at his company and it's no surprise to find topper and kelce among other random guys - even a couple girls who admittedly look a bit older than you and sarah. before processing the thought, you're looking to rafe for reassurance.

he, however, is focused intently on setting up a line of powder on your side of the table with a sharp black card. he sits back with a satisfied grin and looks over at you. "first one's free."

you stare up at him with big, cautious eyes for a moment before turning to the intimidatingly thick string of white.

he chuckles and uses a finger to smudge the neat line, collecting a less daunting amount on the digit. a nod of his head signals he wants you closer, so you do, positioning your body to face him.

snaking a hand to hold firmly behind your neck, he tilts your head back only slightly and prepares to bring his finger to your nose. a raise of his brow asks for permission and you nod.

the substance shoots through you unexpectedly quick which has you screwing your eyes shut and wincing. the reaction only amuses rafe and he moves the arm around your shoulder and tugs you into him once again.

finding solace in the embrace, you allow yourself to sink into his chest - an unsafe level of vulnerability. everything is loud, the booming of music and people feeling increasingly suffocating.

rafe laughs again, smirking in a way that now seems taunting. he takes a good look at you before leaning in to let his warm breath brush against your ear. "y'know, you're real pretty."

that's when you really think about what's happening right now. laying against rafe cameron - who for one reason or another seems to have taken a liking to you. the drug pumping through you and butterflies in your stomach has your heart beating with excitement.

it also has you fluttering your lashes up at rafe with a dopey smile, telling him all he needs to know. all it took was a dot of coke and he's got you right where he wants you.

"why don't you let me take you upstairs?" he presses in a way that shows the line has worked a million times before.

but who are you to turn him down? there's no denying how tempting he is and your attraction towards him. but instead, you shrug and look around in search of sarah.

it takes a minute before you catch her eyes and are met with a concerned yet angry expression. she's quickly by your side and pulling you up from the couch, glaring down at her brother.

"leave my friends alone, rafe." with that, sarah is tugging you away and back through the crowd. your hazy state makes it hard to resist, but you manage to look back at the boy on the couch. he's sitting back, clearly amused but not deterred.

a wink is all he gives before paying his attention back to his friends, leaving you to wonder what all of this meant.

one thing about rafe, though, is when he sets his sights on something - someone - he gets what he wants. he knows he will, and you're no exception.

[balrogballs]

"Bilbo had assumed accusing an elven lord of Tookishness in his own house would result in swift decapitation and not a decades-long camaraderie that both parties truly cherished, but it seemed that in this regard too, the Lord of Imladris defied expectation."

The Peculiar and the Deranged: Moments between Bilbo Baggins, Elrond Peredhel, and the most unprecedented friendship in Middle-Earth, under the cut!

(aka this friendship wasn’t leaving my mind so I wrote this on my phone and drew this with the 3 pencils I had on a train because I’m incapable of being normal about anything)

on Bilbo's first visit to Imladris, featuring Estel's pet snake:

"You had a rat?" Bilbo blinked, hoping Elrond wouldn't notice the snake he was glaring at had initially been curled around his own neck. "Sir."

"I did not have a rat," corrected Elrond imperiously, looking every bit the lord of the valley. "I would never have a rat, I do not approve of rats. My daughter had a rat. Lothinvar, it was called, the bane of my household. Until this terrible creature wormed its way in. The snake that is, not the child, though Estel is not in my good books at the moment either."

on the return journey, after the death of Thorin Oakenshield:

"What can I do? How can I ever move past this?" Bilbo asked quietly, unsure why exactly he was pouring his heart out to a being six thousand years older than him, who must have faced far greater sorrows.

"Grief," Elrond replied, staring intently at him, "tricks you into thinking it’s all you have left. As though if you let it go, even for a moment, you betray him. You hold onto relics like lifelines, thinking what else is there to keep Thorin alive in your mind? It is a lonely life, Bilbo. It will turn you into the loneliest person in the world."

"Is there no way out?" he gasped, looking up at the elf.

"Start small. A smile, perhaps, when you think of a joke he made," Elrond said steadily, like he was reciting a recipe. “And then, try telling someone about him. Perhaps you could tell me. Something new each time you visit, perhaps.”

“You say it like you have experience of it, sir,” ventured Bilbo. “Like you know it by-heart. Did you get past it?”

“I did,” Elrond’s voice was confident, too confident. Bilbo chose not to probe.

"Thorin's nephews?" Elrond asked later, after Bilbo had gathered himself together, mopped himself up. "They were slain too? Both?"

"Yes, both."

"That is good," Elrond had said with a blank, intense smile etched into his features. "That it was both at once."

"What?" Bilbo sat up in shock, spluttering. "Good? What is wrong with you?"

"Were they not twins? Thorin's nephews I recall were twins, no?"

"Brothers. But what difference does that make? What do you mean good? I beg your pardon, my lord, that's an unhinged thing to say!"

"Oh. I am sorry, Bilbo," Elrond shook his head, the awful, blank expression still on his face. "I am sorry, I spoke without thinking. It is only that I had thought they were twins. Do forgive me, I misunderstood, and spoke out of turn."

"Don't worry," Bilbo sighed, finding to his own surprise that he could manage a laugh. "With names like Fili and Kili, it's frankly a surprise they aren't."

He still thought it was a rather unhinged thing for Elrond to say, but, well — Bilbo Baggins had always been fond of the peculiar and the deranged.

on a visit to the Shire, sharing burnt scones

"Cel was — is — remarkable. She had an exceptional appetite for burnt bread: she would go into the kitchens and instruct the staff to deliberately burn sweetbreads, just because she loved the crunch, apparently."

"She sounds like a Shire lass through and through."

Elrond laughed, shaking his head: "I am certain had I brought her to visit, she would never leave. Though she is not made for the rustic life. A total terror of any creature on four legs. The first time I spotted her she was in a garden, standing on the bench screaming, because she had seen an enormous beetle scuttling around the grass."

"Oh, so it was a damsel in distress situation, eh?"

"Quite the contrary," he admitted. "She threw a pair of gardening scissors right at my head, and called me utterly disgusting for the crime of allowing beetles to exist on my property, and threatened to cut off my hair with the same scissors if she ever came across another one. And mind you, this is Celeborn's daughter, and that soul would have married an Ent if Galadriel hadn't come around."

"Well, that truly is a surprise! Did she not even like dear Arwen's little rat?"

"Oh, you remember the rat!" Elrond's eyes shone, genuinely delighted. "If I remember right, she paid our boys to get rid of it and told Arwen she had sent it to, well, your people."

"I will be certain to invent an illustrious Shire-based family tree for the rat, if your Arwen ever gets around to asking."

on a Yule visit, when Bilbo forwent self-preservation, featuring the same snake:

"Oh, it was not I who named the snake after the Mariner, it was my… other father."

"That's impressive, sir. Quite bohemian."

"One would wish," Elrond muttered darkly, pouring himself more wine, as if all the talk of snakes had driven him to drink. "Estel is friendly with Maglor, who along with Maedhros, raised my brother and I. And I had banned all talk of pet snakes until Maglor showed up last year with a present for Estel: his very own snake named Gil-Estel, which they both insist has nothing to do with the Mariner and is simply a play on the child's name. Which I would have believed, if Maglor did not also own a remarkably ugly cat named Thingol."

"When they say you are Half-Elven, Lord Elrond," Bilbo blurted out, after a short, surprised silence. "Do they mean the other half is merely mortal man, or…?"

"Yes, the other half does indeed refer to mortal men," blinked Elrond in surprise, looking something other than perfectly composed for the very first time. "Do you… suspect otherwise?"

"Oh, I was certain there was a bit of Hobbit somewhere. Just your life, you know, your family, all of it," he waved his hands about the valley. "It's a little… well, Tookish."

"What in the world is a Took?"

on a midnight wander in Minas Tirith on the morning of Aragorn’s wedding to Arwen

When Bilbo came across the figure sat on the steps, he was ridiculously old and his memory even more ridiculously ragged, so he didn’t know why it was that he thought, reflexively, it will turn you into the loneliest person in the world. He didn't say a word though, only reached out a hand and sat beside the figure. Elrond didn’t say a word, only grasped the offered fingers so tightly Bilbo's knuckles turned white, held on as he shook. When it passed, he looked away and apologised, sniffing. "Forgive me, my friend, I do not mean to get melancholic, especially not on a day of such joy. I —"

Bilbo cut across him, too old to deal with the elvish tendency to be completely insufferable.

“How did you get past it the last time? With your brother?”

"I have one of the longest memories in this land, yet I cannot truly remember this one thing," the elf smiled bitterly, tapping his nails on the stone steps. "I slept, I think. A lot. I shrunk out of the world until the sheer pain of it no longer clawed at me. But I cannot do that, Bilbo. Now, I have duties, responsibilities. I have kings to oversee, a valley to hand over and a people for whom I must keep up something of a brave face. There is no longer any room for the small death I was permitted last time."

Elrond sighed. "You must think I am terribly privileged, or that I have too grandiose an idea about my place in this world."

"No, I was just thinking how unfair it is," said Bilbo quietly. "So unfair that for you there is a last time and now a this time."

Elrond, in tears again, was looking at him with an almost obscene gratefulness, as if Bilbo had done him some enormous kindness and not something any friend would do, looked at him in a way that made the hobbit think again, inexplicably, the loneliest person in the world.

“I’m sorry,” said the lord, catching his friend’s expression. “You should not be h-“

"Shut up," Bilbo huffed, looking truly offended, rolling his eyes. "You're insufferable, do you know that? Stop acting like you've jumped off a damned cliff before my eyes, Elrond. I'm starting to think elven history would have been a lot less bloody and tragic had more of you — and I mean that Fëanor, mainly, but the rest of you too — appreciated the value of a good cry. Emotional constipation is just as bad as the real thing, you know. And you can be sure I'll tell old Fëanor that to his face when I see him."

Elrond blinked, then laughed. "Oh, Bilbo, I am glad you found your way back to Imladris this year, I truly am."

"And I, in turn,” Bilbo found himself saying, cursing the fact that his memory decided to make its wondrous reappearance that night. “Am equally glad our mutual friend Aragorn tried to bribe me to put his pet snake in your office that very first day."

on a ship in the sundering seas, far too early

"Suffering from a spot of morning sickness, are we?"

"My apologies, Bilbo," Elrond stumbled back into Bilbo's cabin from the privy, looking only slightly less green than he had when he left it. "Please do not make any sudden movements."

"I am only pleased that you and I are now such intimate friends that you feel comfortable enough to throw up your breakfast in my bathroom. Maybe you should come around and do it every morning to wake me up, like the world’s most useless cockerel."

"It was not by choice, as you very well know," Elrond muttered, downing a swig of ground herbs and honey from a bottle in his pocket. "My mortal heritage does, unfortunately, mean there are some weaknesses to the constitution. Perhaps this is why it was Elros who took ship for Numenor and not I."

"Well, that, and you couldn't resist micromanaging six thousand years of Middle-Earth now, could you?" chortled Bilbo, settling down in a plush chair and laying his walking stick by his side. "Mortality is all well and good, but heaven forbid you lose a chance to develop domestic policy over the continental grain trade. Besides, and I don't want to be the one who brings it up, but…"

"Elbereth, what now?"

"Your father was known as the Mariner, you know," Bilbo snorted. "As in, the seafaring sort, no? It would truly be such a shame if someone were to… write a poem about the mis-inheritance of seasi—"

"Write that poem, Bilbo Baggins, and I will personally petition Ulmo to turn you into seaweed."

in the house of Elrond in Aman, with the chattiest woman Bilbo has ever encountered (which is saying something)

"I only burned that layer because you made me do it, mind you. You really are as remarkable as he said you were," Bilbo blurted out as she picked out pink sugared biscuits with a dark crust that he knew to be from burning. He had even spread jam on them for a second layer of sweetness. "Mad and irritating, to be frank, but remarkable. I am truly glad to know you, Celebrìan — not as Elrond's wife, but, well."

He gestured at her weakly, meant the peculiar and the deranged. She understood.

"Yes, I do pity all the folk that know me as Elrond's dead wife," she wrinkled her nose, sitting down by him and grabbing a second burnt biscuit. "And considering my poor husband's approach to grieving, and all the laments Lindir said he's made him compose, that is what most end up knowing me as. It is quite a pity, I am as you say, delightful. Oh, Bilbo, this is amazing! So wonderful, I didn't think pastries could be this sweet!”

"No, not when your cheapskate of a husband is in charge of the rations," he said in a carrying whisper. "In the Shire though, we know how to live."

"Who are we referring to as a cheapskate then?"

"The elf who implemented a sugar tax in his valley," said Celebrian dryly. "You may know him. Have a biscuit!"

"I would truly rather nail myself to the birch," he said dryly, picking up a piece of bread. "I do not get the logic behind oversweetening victuals. Impractical, unnecessary."

"Oh," Celebrían clapped her hands to her mouth. "Of course! The Lord Elrond grew up amidst the War of Wrath! Surely, he has not mentioned that to you, has he? He never does!"

"Ah, that he was raised in military conditions by a couple of kinslayers?" chuckled Bilbo. "No, not at all. Not once. He certainly never brought it up in our first ever conversation. Should we ask him to expand?"

[goodstuffhappenedtoday]

Dog repeatedly escapes Up North shelter, sneaks into nursing home

An abused stray mutt kept trying to move himself into a senior care facility. So the nurses there had to figure out what to do about him.

He’d had enough of being at the animal shelter, so Scout the dog climbed over one tall fence and then another, crossed a busy highway in the darkness, entered the automatic doors of a nursing home down the road, walked unnoticed into the lobby, hopped onto a couch, curled into a ball and quietly went to sleep for the night. An astonished nurse there found him the next morning. She called Antrim County Animal Control, whose shelter happens to be just down the road. And they discovered that he'd escaped from there the night before. Scout was a stray mutt. He had no identity, no history. The shelter staff gave him his new name, but otherwise they knew nothing about him, though they noticed he had the distinct demeanor of an abused dog. Somebody apparently once shot him too, with BBs or birdshot, because his jowl still had some kind of round pellets embedded in it. You couldn’t see them, but you could feel them if he let you touch him.   The sheriff came and took him back to the shelter.

But a few nights later there was Scout, back on that same couch in the nursing home lobby. Somehow he again scaled a 10-foot chain-link fence, then a 6-foot solid privacy fence, crossed a highway without getting run over, entered the front door unnoticed, jumped onto the same couch as before and made himself at home for the night. A call was placed again. He was brought back to the shelter again. Just a couple of nights after that, Scout was back on the couch for the third time. And the staff had a decision to make.

Lost and found

Meadow Brook Medical Care Facility is a long-term medical care residence about an hour northeast of Traverse City. It cares mostly for seniors, some of whom have terminal illnesses, or dementia, or simply nowhere else to go or nobody to look after them. There are 82 beds split between several smaller households. For some reason, this is the place Scout the dog decided to make his home. “I’m a person who looks at outward signs, and if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be,” said Marna Robertson, 57, the nursing home’s administrator. “He did that one time, two times, three times, and obviously that’s something that you should pay attention to. And I asked the staff, ‘Well, he wants to be here. Would anybody like to have a dog?’”

The staff formally adopted him. Suddenly the nursing home had its own pet. And the residents were delighted. “I think it reminds them of being home,” said Rhonda Thomczak, 49, the administrative assistant at Glacier Hill, the household where Scout was first discovered. “When you’re home you have your pets, and you don’t get to have that here. Having a dog around makes it feel like home.”

[iamthemain-character]

The Gold and the Rust

astarion x reader

she/her

TW: mild spice, almost dubcon (but nothing actually happens! we only believe in clear consent in this household!), mentions of canonical trauma

@ S.H. you better give me a big kiss for this one

One bright morning changes all things

Soft and easy as your breathing, you wake

Your eyes open, at first a thousand miles away

But turning, shoot a silver bullet point-blank range

And I can scarce believe what I'm believing in

Could this be how every day begins?

The grass was soft and cool under the scarred skin that stretched over Astarion’s shoulder blades. He was sure his body ached, but after thousands of years of this routine, he hardly even noticed it anymore. What he never got used to was the prick of guilt, making his heart bleed out into his stomach. 

He pushes himself off the ground, relying on his hands to keep his frame upright. He let his head drop back between his shoulders, the soft, bristle-like ends brushing over his skin. He couldn’t help but recall how your hands had grasped at those same hairs not but a few hours ago. It had stirred an unexpected feeling in him, that simple gesture in the heat of passion. It was not the first time someone had grabbed his hair while he pleasured them, nor did he expect it to be the last. Yet...it had felt different; the pulling certainly had left his scalp tingling from the force of it, but it wasn’t violent. It had felt like you needed him closer, needed to have his lips on yours, needed his skin to merge within your own. Your touches had felt like you needed to know every part of him, like your soft fingers could reach down into his damned soul and bring it back to life. 

He had never been needed before.

Astarion looked over to the side, his ruby eyes appreciative as he gazed at your body. Your skin looked so soft, the peaks and valleys of your frame swirling in the sunlight that shone through the leaves. You looked just like a treasure, glowing and priceless in your mere existence. Astarion’s mind kept replaying the sound of your voice as you had squirmed underneath him, the way your softness welcomed his tight grip. Heaven didn’t exist for vampires, but when you had called out his name he was sure he had found it. 

Something altogether too warm and fluttery stirred in his cold, undead heart, and Astarion pushed himself up off of the ground, stretching to his full height as his hands brushed the low-hanging leaves of the willow tree that covered the two of you. He wasted no time collecting his clothes, lacing up his leather trousers in a business-like manner. 

Just before he could don his shirt, however, he heard the rustling of the grass behind him; for some reason he could not fathom, he wanted to turn around. He wanted to watch you wake up, let his fingers lazily trace over your skin, pretending he was the artist who had fashioned this masterpiece. Then, perhaps when you woke up fully, he would create his own works of art upon your warm skin. 

With a start, he snapped himself out of his thoughts, realizing his shirt was hanging loosely in his hands, swaying in the breeze. He felt an unfamiliar rush to his ears, a sort of embarrassment at catching himself so lost in thought over you. He never had trouble like this with any of his other victims before, so why was he so sentimental over you? Astarion knew he couldn’t love anyone, it wasn’t who he was. So why did he yearn to lay back down in the soft grass again? 

Against his better judgment, he turned around, and he felt his resolve weaken. The sun now shone over your face, and you had instinctively turned away from the light, but the Sun’s hands still left its caress over your neck and hair. Astarion softly crossed the short distance, crouching down beside your sleeping body. His logic was screaming at him to leave, to make sure there was no chance of a confrontation between the two of you. That was how he was going to string you along, of course, keep you guessing, wanting more. But now he was the one guessing himself, and needing more. 

Slowly, he laid on the grass again, feeling the sun glint off his own paper-white skin. He kept his chin over his shoulder, his gaze unable to be pulled away from your features. His fingers nearly ached with the desire to reach out, to feel your jaw under them, or the way your shoulder felt through your hair. But he kept them still, not willing to chance disturbing your rest. 

This was good for his ultimate plot, he reasoned to himself. You would trust him so much more if he woke up beside you, showered you with flirtatious comments and sensual touches. Him staying behind was a good thing for him, so he wouldn’t have to wait as long to be able to manipulate you to his whims. 

Surely that was the reason he laid beside you in the morning light, his pinky just a hair away from touching yours. 

One bright morning goes so easy

Darkness always finds you either way

It creeps into the corners as the moment fades

A voice your body jumps to calling out your name

But after this I'm never gonna be the same

And I am never going back again

Astarion could see your hunger the moment you had come back into camp. Your eyes had that dark expression, your body tense in a way that he knew exactly how to relieve. It was beautiful, something he certainly appreciated, but his chest ached with the anxiety of having to perform. Just the thought of touching you in that way made him want to puke whatever little blood was in his stomach. Not because you yourself were repulsive, but because he knew he wouldn’t be able to feel your hands, but instead the claws of Cazador. 

But he didn’t want to lose you. Already, his perfect plan was in crumbles. He already had your protection, your blood that you offered willingly. Now it was just maintenance. But instead, he kept trying to be more, to have more with you, simply because he wanted to. He liked your subtle glances across the camp, he liked the way you’d brush your leg against his. He loved the way he was finally able to learn to sleep because you held him so tightly after your encounters. Despite his best efforts, he had gotten used to having you as his, having your sole attention and romantic interest. Even if the blond elf pretended to not care, he liked having you all to himself. 

So when you entered his tent, already looking like you were one breath away from shredding his clothes, he did what he always has. Kept his mouth shut, shutting off his brain and letting his body exist for the only thing he was good for. He felt like he was simply watching as you kissed him, lips hungry and needy as they sought to claim his. He simply followed the routine, touching where he knew you liked it, meaningless words murmured in a sickenly sultry tone. If he could just get through this, he would be fine. And besides, you always felt so good, so he was simply overreacting. He would be fine.  

He let you pull off his shirt, but while your hands rested over his heart, the memory of Cazador’s tightened around it, fear running through his ice cold veins. And when you pushed him down onto the bedroll, straddling his hips, he didn’t see your adoring smile, but rather the vampiric fangs that had doomed him so long ago. 

“Astarion?” 

Your gentle voice broke through his thoughts, though by the look on your face, you must have called for him few times before. 

He tried to gather himself, putting on his practiced wicked smile. “Yes, pretty girl?”

Your forehead was wrinkled from your furrowed brows, the desire in your eyes filled with concern. “Are you alright?” Your voice was so soft, so sweet, and if Astarion didn’t know better, he would have thought you cared. 

“Of course pet. Please, I believe you were getting to something very important.”He purred, a little uncomfortable with the sudden attention to himself. 

Instead of continuing, however, you got off of him, kneeling beside the bedroll. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.” 

Astarion sits up, and opens his mouth to reassure you, but he pauses as he hears your words. For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure he had heard them properly, because no one ever asked what he wanted, or if he even wanted the things he was doing. Still, the fear that you’ll walk away, that you’ll find someone else to shower your attention on seizes him, and he knows he must double down on the lie. “Dearest, I could see you wanted me from the moment you came into camp. Let me take care of your needs, ease the weariness from the day.” 

You shook your head vehemently, a frown pulling at your mouth. “That’s not what I’m asking, Astarion. Do you want this right now, or would you rather not?”

Shame and guilt filled up his stomach, churning it into a stormy sea. Your eyes were so intense, as if you could see through him. He wasn’t sure his careful web of lies could protect him this time. “What does it matter what I want?” Astarion winces at how bitter his voice sounds, knowing that he’s not angry with you. He hesitates, wondering briefly if you were going to punish him for his impertinence. 

Your furrowed brows arch upwards, surprised at his tone, but you don’t move away, nor do you make any move to harm him. “I don’t want to sleep with you if you don’t want it as much as I do.” You say, your voice a little frustrated from how much Astarion is dodging your questions. 

Astarion huffs, looking guilty. “I can still give you what you want. I know how to make you feel-”

“That's not the point.” You cut him off, taking a deep breath to keep yourself calm. “Is that really what you think this is? You think I come to you just because of what you can give me?”

For the first time in his undead life, Astarion is speechless, a little bewildered by your reactions and your words. “What else would you come to me for?”

You run a hand through your hair, wishing you could shake this man of whatever terrible thoughts are under that silvery hair of his. Instead, you smooth out the edge of the blanket, keeping yourself calm. “Do you truly not have any idea how I feel about you?” You watch, but Astarion gives no reaction or indication of his thoughts. You soften, your heart aching a little. “I......I care about you so much Astarion. And I mean all of you.” 

You sigh, dropping your head back against your neck as you think. “I think about you all the time. I worry about if you’re safe or if you’re hungry. I get excited knowing I get to see your face, I long to make you smile. And not the one you always have, the real one where I can see one more fang more than the other because your lips go crooked when you’re trying not to smile.” You drop your gaze back down, looking into the depths of his ruby eyes. “I enjoy the sex, of course. But that’s because I enjoy every part of you. You have so many other amazing qualities.” 

Astarion sits very still and very quiet as he listens, only the tips of his ears twitching. He keeps playing the words on loop inside of his head. I care about you. And for the first time, he finds that he has no quips, no easy flattery or flirtation, nor any weapon to get out of this. You are just there, in front of him, your words raw and so saturated with honesty. And it terrifies him. 

But deep inside of him, in the heart he likes to pretend he doesn’t have, there's a small glimmer of light. A tiny flame of hope, burning through the cruelty of Cazador and the ghosts of past trysts, making him wonder if he could truly be so desired. To be wanted beyond his body. “...I have spent my life, being a body for people.” He says quietly, his eyes trained on your hands as he speaks. Everything in his rougish logic is cursing him for being vulnerable, but as he lifts his gaze to your eyes, he finds nothing but safety and acceptance. “I do not know what it is to be cared for. But…” He pauses, his eyes softening, round and doe-like. His hands are embarrassingly shaky, but he reaches out, taking yours into them all the same. “I would very much so like to find out.” 

A small, sweet smile curls on your face, fanning the hope inside of Astarion’s heart. You hold his hands gently but firmly, like you know he may pull away otherwise. “Then let me ask you again; do you, Astarion, want to continue what I was doing? And I want your genuine answer, not what you think I want.”

Astarion swallows the ball of nerves in his throat, his fingers tightening their grasp on you. “No.” He says, and he feels a surge of emotion within his heart. “No, I don’t.” he says again, astonished at how it feels to say the word. He watches you, but you’re still smiling, still looking at him like you adore him. Astarion wonders if perhaps you really do just care about him. “But I...I don’t want you to leave, either.” He admits, wondering if he’s pushing his luck. 

Your smile only grows, and you move a little closer to him. “Would you like me to grab my bedroll? Or...I could even hold you, if you’d like?” 

Astarion feels his own lips turn up, the idea of being close to you, warm and comfortable in his bed more enticing than he can express. “Yes please, darling. I’d like to keep you close.” 

You nod, and without a single hesitation, you move back over to the bedroll. Astarion feels a little giddy at the prospect, struggling to keep up his cool, nonchalant attitude. He lays down with you, watching your hair sprawl out over his pillow. Your head mirrors his, and for a while, the two of you just gaze into one another’s eyes. Astarion tries to subtly shift closer, pretending like he’s getting comfortable, when in reality he just wants to be closer to you. Knowingly, you smile at him, and you open your arms to invite him in. 

He practically swan dives into the junction of your shoulder and chest, nuzzling his head over your heart. He doesn’t even bother trying to hide the smile that pulls at his lips, all but purring as he melts against your side. You curve one arm over his shoulder, cradling his head as it rests over your breast, and you drape the other lightly over the valley of his waist. 

The little flame inside of Astarion’s heart bursts into a fire as he feels you hold him, and he gives up any attempts at being cool about your presence. His bicep presses into the underside of your breasts, squishing them a little from how tightly he holds you. His other arm snakes under you, resting at the natural curve of your back. Even with your body fully in his grasp, however, it's still not enough. He draws his knee up, hooking his leg over yours, resting it below your knee. A contented sigh brushed your hair as he relaxed, his eyes fluttering shut. You could see his soft white eyelashes over his cheeks, the skin lightly pink and matching the tips of his ears. 

Gently, your hand shifts upwards to the nape of his neck, lightly scratching at the hair where it grows out from his skin. The shorter strands loosen from where they were tucked between the two of you, twisting with every moment of your fingers. Astarion almost doesn’t want to believe this could be real, that you truly were so willing to simply lay with him, to hold him. And yet as he listened to the steady beat of your heart, so full of life, he was sure that he had found heaven.

The sky set to burst

The gold and the rust

The colour erupts

You filling my cup

The sun coming up

Like I lived my whole life

Before the first light

(Some bright morning comes)

Like I lived my whole life

Before the first light

Being an elf and a vampire meant that even when Astarion could sleep, he didn’t sleep for very long. It used to bother him, the long, lonely nights where he was left alone with the ghosts of his past. After falling in love with you, however, he adored the mornings. He would linger in the warmth of your shared bed, cuddled as close to you as he possibly could be. He would alternate between stroking your hair, or pressing delicate little kisses over your shoulder and arms. He loved watching you sleep, able to take his time studying your features without you blushing or hiding away. 

On the mornings where he was feeling needy, however, he took no issue waking you up. 

“My love.” He murmured, pressing a more insistent kiss to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around your waist. He saw no response, however, and so he decided to be more persistent in his efforts. He began trailing his lips over your arm, nibbling at whatever softness was there, making his way up to your neck. He couldn’t resist pressing the point of his nose into the skin of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. Sometimes he felt he could get drunk on your scent alone, the different aromas that collected on your skin melding into a fragrance that was entirely unique, and entirely his to enjoy. 

With that thought in mind, he nibbled gently at your neck, and was rewarded with the shifting of your body below his chest as you awoke. Your hands instinctively found their way to his back, soft and warm as they ran over his cool skin. He shivered, the sensation only serving to stir up the heat coiling in his lower abdomen. “There she is.” He hums, his tone dripping with satisfaction and barely controlled desire. 

“Good morning.” You say sleepily, your body already leaning up into him, not needing to be fully awake to know what it wants. Your touch crawls up to the nape of his neck, brushing the soft curls there at the base. Astarion nearly moans, the simple gesture only adding to the intense need he feels for you. 

He moves to get more fully on top of you, knees guiding your thighs apart as he finds his rightful place between them. Still, it's simply not enough, so his long fingers cup the slope where your ass met your thigh, nails digging into the soft flesh with a desperate claim. He knows that you’re still waking up, that he should be more gentle, but the smile on your lips is all the encouragement he needs to know his advancements are welcomed. His hands snap your hips up to meet his, and he presses his body intently against yours, letting you feel just how aroused he is. 

A soft moan leaves you, your mind waking up considerably as you feel heat rush straight to your core. You look down your body, seeing the way he’s practically grinding into you, his red eyes dark with lust and love. 

“Please.” The request carries an infinite well of want, his voice slightly breathless and husky, brushing invisible fingers along your spine. You nod, and that’s all it takes for Astarion to give into exactly what he’s wanting. Your bed becomes a paradise, both skin and sheets marked as he savors the way he can be this way with you, his past nothing more than a distant whisper. 

Heaven didn’t exist for vampires. 

But you did. And for Astarion, that was everything. 

[galaxysupreme17]

Lure of the Moonstone

Y/n = Your name

AgathaRio x daughter!reader!

The woods surrounding Westview were a haven for Y/n, especially on days when her curiosity felt like an itch she couldn’t scratch indoors. The towering trees swayed gently, their leaves whispering secrets only the wind could carry. The air was crisp, tinged with the earthy scent of fallen leaves. Her favorite time to explore was the late afternoon light casting golden streams through the canopy.

Her boots crunched softly on the path as she meandered deeper into the woods. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just enjoying the quiet solitude. But something drew her off the trail—a faint glimmer in the underbrush.

Kneeling down, she pushed aside the foliage to reveal a beautiful moonstone, its surface smooth and glowing faintly as if it held a piece of the moon itself. Enchanted by its beauty, Y/n couldn’t resist. She reached out and picked it up.

At first, it felt warm and comforting, as if the stone were greeting her. But the warmth quickly turned into something else. A sharp, invasive pull, like a siphon draining her very essence. Her breath hitched, and she stumbled back, clutching the stone as if letting go would somehow make it worse.

Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, her vision blurring as the world around her tilted. The light from the stone pulsed erratically, its glow now menacing. The last thing she saw before darkness overtook her was the towering trees above, swaying as if mocking her.

In the Harkness-Vidal household, Agatha was in the middle of an intricate spell preparation when her connection to Y/n flared sharply. It wasn’t unusual for her to feel her daughter’s magic—a constant hum in her awareness. But this sudden, violent pull made her drop the herb she’d been grinding.

Her heart raced. “Y/n?” she called aloud, stepping away from her work.

Silence answered her.

The second wave hit her harder, a tug deep in her chest that sent panic coursing through her veins. She didn’t stop to think. Grabbing her coat, she used her magic to track the source of the disturbance.

When she arrived at the old oak grove, her heart plummeted. Y/n lay slumped against the tree’s roots, her body unnaturally still. The cursed moonstone rested in her hand, its glow faint but insidious.

Agatha knelt beside her daughter, her hands trembling as she cupped Y/n’s face. “No, no, no. Y/n, sweet girl, wake up. Mama’s here.”

Her voice cracked as she pried the moonstone from Y/n’s grasp. The moment her fingers touched it, a jolt of dark energy shot up her arm. She hissed in pain and dropped the cursed object, her magic flaring in defense. The stone pulsed threateningly on the ground, but her focus was on Y/n.

“Stay with me, baby,” she murmured, gathering Y/n into her arms. The girl’s skin was pale, her breaths shallow, and her normally vibrant magic was barely a flicker.

Agatha pressed her forehead against Y/n’s, her violet magic flaring around them as she channeled her own energy into her daughter. It was a delicate process, sustaining Y/n without overloading her weakened system.

One hand still glowing with magic, Agatha fumbled for her phone with the other and called Rio.

“Rio,” she said, her voice tight with fear. “I need you. The oak grove. Hurry.”

Rio arrived just as twilight began to creep over the woods, her basket of supplies swinging at her side. She spotted Agatha immediately, her wife’s figure hunched protectively over Y/n’s limp form.

“Agatha!” Rio called, rushing to their side. Her breath hitched when she saw Y/n’s pale face. “What happened?”

“That,” Agatha spat, nodding toward the moonstone lying nearby. “It’s cursed. It’s been draining her magic. I’m keeping her stable but can’t break it alone.”

Rio’s jaw tightened as she took in the scene. Without a word, she set her basket down and pulled out a sprig of rosemary, a piece of quartz, and a vial of salt.

“Hold her,” Rio said firmly. “I’ll take care of the stone.”

Agatha nodded, cradling Y/n closer. “I’ve got you, my little moonbeam,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Rio knelt beside the moonstone, arranging her materials in a circle around it. Her lips moved in a low chant, the green glow of her magic spreading like roots through the soil. The moonstone resisted, pulsing violently as if it were alive. But Rio was unrelenting, her voice rising in strength and command.

The stone shuddered, its light faltering. It cracked with one final surge of magic, then crumbled into ash. The curse dissipated, leaving the grove eerily quiet.

Rio slumped back, breathing heavily. “It’s done,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha looked down at Y/n, relief flooding her as her daughter stirred faintly in her arms. “Y/n? Can you hear me?”

“Mama…” Y/n’s voice was soft, but her eyes fluttered open, searching for Agatha’s face.

“I’m here, baby,” Agatha said, tears spilling over as she kissed Y/n’s forehead. “I’ve got you.”

Back at the house, Agatha carried Y/n to the master bedroom, her arms never loosening their grip. She eased onto the bed, propping herself against the headboard with Y/n curled in her lap.

“Mama…” Y/n murmured, her voice weak but full of trust.

“I’m right here,” Agatha whispered, brushing her fingers gently through Y/n’s hair. “You’re safe now, my love.”

Rio entered moments later with a warm mug of tea. She set it on the nightstand, climbed onto the bed, and settled beside Agatha. Her eyes softened as she took in the sight of her wife holding their daughter so protectively.

“She’ll be okay,” Rio said gently, leaning her head against Agatha’s shoulder. “She’s strong, just like her mamá.”

Agatha didn’t respond immediately, focusing entirely on Y/n’s even breaths. After a moment, she sighed. “I can’t lose her, Rio.”

“You won’t,” Rio said firmly. She shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Agatha’s waist. “Mi Vida, she’s safe. You saved her.”

Agatha’s shoulders trembled, and tears began to fall silently. She leaned into Rio, who pressed a kiss to her head. “Mi amor,” Rio murmured softly, running her fingers soothingly through Agatha’s hair. “She’s here. We’re all here.”

The room fell quiet as Agatha’s tears slowed. She leaned her head back against Rio’s shoulder, her arms still tightly around Y/n. Rio’s hand continued its comforting motions, her presence a grounding force.

Hours passed like this, the three of them cocooned in the safety of their shared love. As Y/n drifted deeper into sleep, Agatha whispered, “I’ll always protect you, my little moonbeam.”

Rio kissed her wife’s head again, whispering, “Siempre,” before tightening her embrace. Together, they watched over Y/n, the light of the moon streaming through the window, a quiet reminder of the bond that held them together.

[ihopeiexplode]

Householdhusband!Sukuna x CEO!Reader (+ some dad!sukuna too)

A/N: idk how u guys like my word bcs ys there so many of u begging me to upload something 😞😞(ily guys!!!)

Householdhusband!Sukuna

Who absolutely refused to be a stay-at-home husband. Why should you be the one working when he's a perfect provider? Sure your gonna inherit a company but still!

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who didn't even know how to do a simple household task, so why not turn to uraume for help!! sure he brunt down the kitchen one too many times in the process but hey none perfect right!...

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who saw your apron in your closet and decided to use it despite it being too 'girly' for his taste, why did he use it? he loves how comfy and multi-functional it is, plus he also like how it reminds him of you (refer to the cover pic for the ref!!)

(thx rina for this hc!! ^)

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who actually turned out to be a good cook after countless trial and errors with uraume...did he like doing it? no.

(yes he does he just doesnt wanna admit it bc its sukuna duh!!)

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who always cooks your favorite desserts/foods when you had a long day at work, he sees you upset the moment you walk through that door? he's imminently rushing to the kitchen grabbing the ingredients he needs

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who loves bringing you a whole feast when u wake up on every Saturday and Sunday, you're one providing for him plus being a CEO is hard work so why not reward you for it right?

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who brought you the lunch you left on your first day of your job and the moment he stepped into the building, everyone thought he CEO instead of you, i mean he screams CEO vibes doesn't he?

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who hates being teased by jin whenever he comes over to visit, sure the first thing he sees is sukuna in the kitchen wearing a pretty pink apron...

"You look pretty in pink, matches your hair" "ill kick you out the house if i hear one more word from you" "Shouldn't it be 'y/ns' house seeing how she's the provider?" woah i wonder how jin ended up out side your house in the cold!!! wonder who did that guys!!!

Householdhusband!Sukuna + Dad!Sukuna

who somehow convinced you to have a child with him...how? no clue!!

Householdhusband!Sukuna + Dad!Sukuna

who always fight with your child for your attention, you could be back home from work and you see a little mini sukuna and a large sukuna running towards you, with the mini on your leg and the large on your right as they push and pull you from one side to another

(sukuna ends up winning cause hes up against a child why wouldn't he)

Householdhusband!Sukuna + Dad!Sukuna

who doesn't let ANYONE in 'his' kitchen mf like Gordan Ramsay in there, the kitchen is quite literally his sanctuary and won't let ANYONE in regardless of what you are to him, but maybe he'll make expectations just for you and you ONLY.

and guess whos blacklisted from the kitchen? no other than your child seeing how they always play around with sukunas ingredients every time he cooks

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who gets anxious whenever you try helping him cook.. what if you mess up?.. sure he appreciates the fact your helping but he rather do it himself so its quicker and perfect!!

"y/n...your doing it wrong." "move. let me do it." "you didnt put enough of it." "y'know what just go...the kitchen might end up burning because of you." thats alot coming from someone who burnt it down 22th times whenever he tried cooking for the first time....

Householdhusband!Sukuna + Dad!Sukuna

who surprisingly gets along with other moms when he started parenting sessions, he even got some great tips on how to approach you whenever your feeling down did i mention he turned out to be great at gossiping to? And of course Sukuna always updates you on the latest gossip despite not knowing who the gossips about anyway..

Now you have random beef with a girl named Eleanor..

"Wait so if shes upset I shouldn't try comforting or helping her?? How does that make sense??"

"trust us. It'll make things worse. Only help her when she asks to and only comfort her when it really gets bad...buttt when she's on her period there's some exceptions to that rule"

"gosh women so confusing for what reason..."

—

"did you guys hear about Eleanor??"

"which Eleanor?"

"the one who has a kid with her husband that isn't even his"

"eugh. Her... Could you believe she tried striking up a conversation with me while I was out shopping? Don't get too close to me woman don't wanna get infected by whatever Infection she has going on in her mouth"

"Right! Seriously that girl has some real bad breath..."

"did I also mention I saw her out with another man while shopping?"

"no way. Was it Tobias?.."

"Xavier."

"THE BROTHER OF HER HUSBAND OUT OF ALL PEOPLE??"

(based of an actual convo I heard while I was in the mall🔥🔥)

Householdhusband!Sukuna

who HATES. the submissive allegations he gets whenever someone finds out your the man and provider in your relationship

"hey Sukuna since y/ns providing does that mean your the bottom in bed??"

"jin stfu you should NOT be speaking.. acting as if Kaori isn't the provider..."

"that's a different story..."

"this is why I should've eaten you in womb."

"I don't like that joke seeing how you actually almost ate me in it.."

"exactly.

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

Permanent Taglist: @megumisfave