#its part of the job. do you think chefs like doing every part of their jobs? NO but its something thats got to be done.

[batcavescolony]

comic writers are in the comic business so you'd assume they've...You know, read comics. but from what I see they don't do that apparently.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.

[leossmoonn]

five nights with mike (2) | mike schmidt

read part one

summary - a romance develops between you and mike at freddy’s

warnings / includes - reader is fem. established feelings. natural time skips. very loosely follows the plot of the movie but i didn’t want to watch it again for this lol. eventual smut - piv, oral f receiving, brief handjob

————

18+ under the cut

“thank you so much for picking me up. you might have to tomorrow, too.”

mike glances at you, giving you a small smile. “it’s no problem.”

you buckle yourself in and set your purse between your legs on the ground. “how is abby?”

“great. she asks about you all the time,” mike chuckles. “oh,” you sigh, putting your hand on your chest. “she’s adorable. maybe sometime we can eat lunch or something together.”

his heart spikes and he nods enthusiastically. “that-that would be awesome. yeah and, uh, i can pay this time. i can even make it, too.”

“mike schmidt cooks, huh?” you grin at him. “i only know how to make a few things, but i like cooking in general. just give me a recipe and i’ll try my best,” he says.

“mmm. well, i love a man who can cook,” you remark, looking out the window. heat creeps up mike’s neck and reaches his ears. “just let me know what kind of food you like, and i’ll make it. i’m not a trained chef or anything, though, so if it’s bad then i don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

“i bet you’re better than me. i personally like baking better,” you say.

“baking is cool, but it takes too long and i’m an impatient person.”

“well, how about you cook and i’ll bring the dessert.”

“oh, you don’t have to do that,” mike shakes his head. “you’re already so busy with work.”

“it’s no trouble. i’ve stated to get later shifts at my day job. it means i work later, but more time to sleep and some more time reserved for things like baking.”

“that’s great to hear. do you feel like you sleep better now?”

“no,” you snort. “if anything, i feel worse, but that’s just my brain. i can tell my body appreciates it.”

mike hums in response. “tonight you can sleep the majority of the shift if you’d like.”

“and leave you all alone? no. after what happened to abby, i’m kind of scared to sleep there.”

mike rolls his bottom lip in between his teeth. “don’t let abby scare you. she has lots of imaginary friends even before i took her there, which won’t be happening again.”

“right,” you sigh. “it’s just that i swore i heard other voices. like a man’s voice.”

mike feels the hairs raise up on his arms even under his jacket. “maybe tonight we can scope it out.”

“sure. hopefully we don’t die. imagine those fur things coming to life and murdering us,” you shiver in thought.

mike chuckles, “that would be wild.”

mike parks his car at the pizzeria. you grab your purse and lead the way in. as you step inside, there’s a cracking sound. you look under your shoe, seeing a bunch of glass on the floor.

“holy shit,” you gasp. you look at the diner, seeing it totally trashed.

“fuck, um. yeah, steve mentioned this to me earlier. i-i must’ve forgot,” mike says sheepishly. he really did forget. he must’ve been so clouded by his excitement to see you, he scraped his conversation with steve completely.

“it’s okay. it’s not like you warning me would’ve changed what happened.” you can’t believe your eyes. it seems like every table in the diner is flipped over or broken. glass litters the floor and you’re thankful you chose to wear sneakers tonight and not slippers like you have been. “what did happen?” you turn to mike.

“i guess a bunch of people came in here after we left and trashed it. i’m not sure why. i swore we locked all the doors.”

“yeah, i thought we did, too. we wanted to get abby out of here fast, though, so we could’ve missed something.”

“yeah, that’s what i was thinking, too,” mike sighs. “i guess you really won’t be getting any rest tonight.”

“it’s alright,” you shrug. “i just don’t know if we’ll be able to get the diner back to its original state.”

“it’s not like anybody but us comes here,” mike jokes. you smile and nod, “right.” you set your purse down on one of the booth tables that isn’t destroyed. “let’s get to it.”

mike and you spend most of the night cleaning. you were shocked to find even more mess in the hallway and kitchen areas. everything was going smoothly until you find what you think is blood splattered all over the storage room window.

“mike?” you call out. there’s no answer and a pang of worry hits your chest. “mike?” you shout louder.

“coming!” you hear him. fast footsteps echo in the hallway and you can’t help but feel creeped out. you always thought this place was weird and dinky. you only accepted the job because you found out another person was working, and while you feel very save with mike, you just can’t shake the feeling that there’s something seriously wrong with this place.

“what’s up?” mike asks. you point to the window and his eyes widen. “oh,” he says. “um, maybe that’s the blood of the person destroying the place?”

“maybe. but it’s from the inside.”

“yeah,” mike gulps. “we can tell steve about it or something. we were hired to babysit this place, not be a clean up crew.”

“right,” you nod. he grabs your hand gently and you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy. “let’s go back to the office. we only have a couple more hours here. we can relax from cleaning then just be done.”

you smile in agreement, letting him lead you out of the hallway. soon your mind wanders away from the eerie feelings. you talk about everything and nothing. you laugh at every terrible joke he makes. he listens intently to stories about your family. with each minute, it seems like you two get closer — both emotionally and physically. by the end of the shift, you’re sitting knee-to-knee. your foot is brushing up against his jeans, feeling the muscle of his calf. both of your hands are rested on the desk and his fingers routinely brush up against yours. soon, they’re basically intertwined. you don’t know how they got there, but you’re not complaining.

“looks like we made it without dying,” mike says. you grin, “until tomorrow.”

“shall i take you home, then?” he asks. your face falls and he catches it, but you’re quick to mask it. “yeah, sure.” the disappointment seeps into you, but you know you’ll see him again soon. you just wish you could have more time with him.

you both walk out, triple checking that everything is shut and locked. the car ride home is silent, but it’s comfortable. you glance at mike every so often, admiring him from the passenger seat. his hair is tousled from running his hands in it. his eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on driving, his eyes moving every so often as he watches the road. your eyes trial down the shape of his nose, noticing the tiniest bump towards the top.

dread fills you as he pulls into your driveway. you purse your lips as you try to think of what will allow you to spend more time with him.

“what’re your plans for today?” you ask. “nothing much. abby’s with a babysitter right now. thankfully, it’s the weekend so i don’t have to rush to take her to school,” he answers.

“ah,” you hum. he looks to you, seeing your face in deep concentration as you stare at your lap. “what about you? you work later today, right?”

“yep. at 2,” you say. he glances at the dashboard clock that reads 6:30 am. “you have a while then. are you tired?” he asks.

“not really. honestly, staying up all night kind of gave me a boost of energy.”

“me, too,” he nods. you can’t help but sigh. there’s no good reason for him to come inside or even for you to go back to his house. you figure you just have to wait until tonight.

“thank you again for driving me. are you able to pick me up later?” you ask.

“of course,” he nods. you smile, “great! i really appreciate it.”

“it’s really no problem,” he smiles. you start to get out of the car, but he stops you. “hey, can i, uh, use your bathroom really quickly?”

“yeah,” you nod a little too much. “thank you,” he says, stepping out of his car. you unlock the front door, trying to remember if you left your house a complete mess or not. you’re relieved to see that you did not.

mike looks around your house. it looks identical to his from the outside, but the inside is a whole different story. he wonders if you hired an interior decorator because of how beautiful it looks.

“the bathroom is down the hall to the right,” you say. he turns to look at you, then to the hallway. “thanks,” he says, making his way to the closed door.

you take off your shoes, placing them neatly on the small shoe rack you have by the door. there are some dirty dishes on the coffee table in your living room from your last meal, but you’re sure he doesn’t mind. everyone has dirty dishes laying out from time to time. you take the opportunity to load them in your dishes washer, re-folding some blankets and fluffing up the couch pillows.

you’re sat on your couch when mike comes out.

“are you hungry?” you ask. “no,” he lies. he wants to stay, but he doesn’t want to be a burden to you.

“oh, come on. we haven’t eaten in like, eight hours. at least i haven’t. i have some cinnamon rolls that would love to be baked.”

“would they, though?”

you giggle and stand up. “will your babysitter mind staying a little late?”

“i’ll call her,” mike says. he takes out his phone, dialing his home phone. it takes a moment or two for someone to pick up. “hello?” abby’s voice echos.

“hey, abby. is max there?” he asks. “yes. she just got me breakfast from mcdonald’s,” abby says.

“oh, that’s nice of her. do you mind if i speak to her real quick?”

“okay. max!”

mike quickly pulls the phone away as abby yells into the mic.

“hello?” max says. “hey, max. i, uh, got caught up at the pizzeria. are you able to stay and watch her for an hour or so?” mike asks.

“yeah, of course,” she says quickly. “awesome. i’ll pay you extra, i promise,” mike says.

“it’s okay, mike. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“yep,” he hangs up, waking into the kitchen where you’re setting out the dough.

“ah, these are pre-packaged,” mike remarks. “nobody has time to make cinnamon rolls by scratch,” you say.

“says the person who likes baking. or do you just like fake baking?”

“this is not fake baking!” you exclaim. “i am putting it in the oven and going to put icing over it.”

“whatever you say.” mike leans against your counter, crossing his arms over his chest. you can’t help but notice him flex his biceps.

“i bet you fake cook,” you quip. his brows raise in question. “and what does that entail?”

“you put a foam cup full of ramen and warm it up in the microwave.”

“those are delicious.”

“i mean, yeah, but it’s so hard to put an egg in it and sometimes the noodles aren’t soft enough.”

“well, i usually cook my ramen on the stovetop. so if i ever make you that, you’ll know it’s real cooking.”

you laugh at his joke, your eyes flickering from the rolls to him a few times. you think about doing this again with him, next time with him making you food. you think about being in his house, seeing how he lives, looking at the pictures he may have on the walls, or lack thereof. you think about sitting on his couch and watching a movie, shoulders and knees touching. you wonder what his room looks like, what color his sheets are. you want to know what he looks like sleeping and waking up. you want to know what he looks like on top of you and between your thighs.

“what else do you know how to make?” you ask.

“chicken pot pie.”

“pot pie? wow.” you are genuinely impressed.

“i’ve been told i make a mean stir fry, too.”

“you’ll have to make it for me then. does abby like your cooking?” you ask, putting the pan in the preheated oven.

“only if it’s spaghetti and waffles.”

“i see that she’s a simple girl.”

“food-wise, she is. but i don’t mind. they’re both easy things to make.”

“it’s sweet.” you turn to him, leaning against the counter diagonal from him. “how you take care of her. she’s lucky to have you.”

“truth is, i’m lucky to have her. we don’t always get along, but she keeps me going.”

“that is adorable,” you awe. “i am an only child, so i envy people who have siblings.”

“it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it’s nice just having someone there.”

“seems like it,” you say. you move to your coffee maker, turning it on and finding a k-cup to use. “would you like some coffee?”

“i would,” he nods. “can you grab us some mugs? they’re in the cabinet behind your head,” you direct.

he does so, placing the cups on the counter. he moves to slide it to you at the same time you put your hand on it. your heart skips a beat. your eyes shoot to his and you see they’re already on you. you watch his eyes trail down to your lips and the back up to your own eyes. you feel weak in the knees as he stares at you through his lashes. his eyes are wide and full of innocence, but there’s a hint of mischief in them as his pupils begin to widen.

“thank you,” you say, your voice coming out barely above a whisper.

“mhm,” he hums, his voice low and smooth. “how do you like your coffee?” you ask.

“one sugar and a splash of milk or creamer. whatever you have,” he answers.

“i have some creamer in the fridge.” you head towards your refrigerator. he watches you as you bite your lip as you search for the creamer. you shut the fridge door gently, setting the creamer next to the coffee maker. you open the cabinet above of you, grabbing a couple packets of sugar. he keeps his eyes on you as the silence settles in.

this feels so nice. being with you in your house feels nice. being close to you, spending time with you feels nice. mike wants to do this every day. he wants to fall asleep holding you close like he did the other night in the office. he wants to live with you and make dinner for you, having it await your arrival after your day shift. he wants to wake up next to you, tracing circles on your skin until they eventually become replaced with kisses. he wants to know how you’d look on top of him, riding his dick and face.

soon the cinnamon rolls are done. you take them out of the oven, waiting a few moments before icing them.

“you’re pretty good at icing,” you say. “thank you. these are kind of hard to ice since they’re so warm,” he chuckles.

“yeah, you’re supposed to wait, but i’m starving.” you take a bite into the roll, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. mike can’t help but notice that his jeans feel uncomfortably tight all the sudden. he takes a bite of his roll, making a note of how good they are.

“you can never go wrong with these,” you say. you take another bite, some icing sticking to the top of your lip. “you have a little bit of something here.” mike’s pinky points to his own lips.

“oh, god,” you laugh, heat creeping up your neck from embarrassment. “i should’ve warned you, i’m a messy eater.” you take a napkin and wipe it over the bottom half of your lip.

mike smiles and sets his roll down. “here, let me.”

you nod and place the napkin down, his fingers brushing against yours once more. he moves closer to you, leaning his head in to where your foreheads are almost touching. his gaze is trained on your lips as he cups your face, swiping his thumb over your lips. you don’t realize you’re holding in a breath until he looks into your eyes.

“thank you,” you manage to say. your throat feels dry all of the sudden and you feel hot all over. “no problem,” he says.

the air is thick between you two. you’re so close, closer than you’ve ever been. you can feel the heat radiating off of him. when you inhale you can smell him. he smells like the woods, spearmint, and vanilla. you can recognize the spearmint smell from his car. you wonder if the woodsy smell is natural and if the vanilla is the scent of his body wash.

he doesn’t move is hand away and you’re sure you don’t want him to. his eyes move across your face, not sure whether to stare at your lips or your eyes. he sucks in a deep breath, swallowing slowly. you watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his jaw becoming more sharp as he bites down on his back teeth for a moment.

“can i kiss you?” his voice is low and warm. your eyes flutter in surprise, your heart following in suit. his big brown eyes stare into yours, holding your eyes hostage.

“yes,” you finally say. he slowly moves in, his hand moving upwards to touch the nape of your neck. you try to control your breathing as you watch his eyes flicker from yours to your lips. he brushes his bottom lip against yours, causing a thrill to run up your spine. his head moves back slightly, but he makes up for it with closing the gap between you two.

kissing him feels like a weight taken off your shoulders. all the tension you’ve felt releases as you move your lips with his. he kissed you so gently, a little too soft, like he’s holding back. after a few seconds he pulls away, both of you catching your breaths.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he says. you smile, grabbing his free hand. “well, don’t stop.”

he kisses you again, this time harder. it’s almost bruising. he grabs your waist, holding you tighter and closer. you take a shower breath and his tongue slips into your mouth. you moan softly as his hand slivers down to your ass and squeezing the soft tissue. your arms wrap around him and your weave your fingers through his hair. it’s so soft like you’ve always imagined.

“can i do this?” mike breathes against your lips. your eyes are still closed as he slides both hands up your shirt. you answer him by pulling away completely and taking your shirt off, revealing your nude-colored bra. you expect his eyes to drop down immediately, but you watch as they follow your jaw and down your neck. they sweep across the area where your collarbones are, then finally landing on your breasts.

his hands walk up your sides, making you laugh a little bit. he smiles at you, his eyes jumping up to yours now. you can’t help but squeeze your thighs just by the way he’s looking at you. he attaches his lips to yours once more, but it’s not long before he starts to trail down to your neck and your chest. you unhook your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders to the ground. you lean against the counter as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your hardened nipples. you let out a little gasp as he pinches them, looking up at you to try and gage your reaction. he closes his lips around one nipple, flicking it with his tongue. you sigh this time, your hand falling to his head.

you feel his hands skim down to your pants. his fingers hook under the waistband, feeling over the cotton of your underwear. you shift your weight, feeling that the tension is almost unbearable. it’s painful as you watch him slowly slide down your pants. he runs his tongue down the valley of your breasts, pressing wet all over your tummy before landing at the top of your underwear. you step out of your pants, feeling the cold air hit your legs, making you shiver.

his left hand grabs the underside of your thigh. his hand is so warm against your cold skin. it feels nice, but not as nice as the feeling you get when he runs the pads of his fingertips down your underwear. he skims just over your slit, feeling some of the wetness that has collected. you want to slap the smirk off his face, but it makes your stomach flip.

“is there anything i should do?” he asks. now he looks all innocent, staring at you with wide eyes and raised brows.

“i could think of a few things,” you say. “mm, like what?” he inquires. his fingers are at the side of your panties. you watch in anticipation as you wait for him to pull them to the side. “tell me what you want,” mike says.

you swallow hard. “i… i want your fingers inside of me. and your mouth on me.”

you can see all of his top teeth as he smiles. “that’s all you had to say.”

you spread your legs, using the counter as a crutch. he pushes your underwear aside, slipping one finger into you. heat creeps up your neck at the sound of your cunt gushing. he slides it out momentarily, finding your clit to moisten the area. he slides two fingers in this time, curling them inside of you. he watches you again, seeing your lips part and chest heave up and down. you feel your brain go numb as he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he brings his mouth to your cunt.

“ohmygod,” you rush out, your head lolling back. his tongue flicks your clit, sucking every so often. you lead so far back your back is supported by your cabinets. one of your hands hold his head, your fingers gripping his hair. your other hand is digging your fingernails into his clothes shoulder.

“fuck, mike,” you gasp as he quickens the pace of his fingers ever so slightly. he hits that spot so perfectly, and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs around his head. his tongue starts making stronger strokes on your clit. not enough to make it hurt, but enough to make you feel like you’re already about to orgasm.

you’ve talked to mike about past lovers. you know he’s had a couple and for only short periods of time. you assumed he would be experienced, but not an expert, which you had no problem with. he’s sure as hell proving you wrong now.

“don’t stop, don’t stop,” you breathe out. you place one hand next to you on the counter, gripping the marble top so hard you think it might leave an imprint in your palm. “mike, mike,” you warn him, your throat constricting and heart racing. your toes curl in your socks and you clench your thighs around his head one last time.

you have to push his head away, seeing the dazed look on his face. his fingers exit you and he sucks them dry. you visibly gulp, feeling warmth fill your lower stomach as you watch him. all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears and your heavy breathing.

“good?” he asks. “yes,” you nod enthusiastically. “so good.”

you grab him by his shirt, crashing your lips onto his. you taste yourself on his lips. both of your hands drop down to his jeans, undoing his belt quickly. his heart skips in excitement as his pant pool at his ankles. you palm him through his brief, feeling how hard he it. it must be painful, you think, and it is. he was already hard from the moment he kissed you, and it didn’t get any better when giving you head.

you pull away and wet your hand with your spit, shoving your hand down his boxers. both of his hands grip your waist as you wrap your fingers around his length, pumping it in your hands, squeezing every so often. your other hand reached down to his balls, massaging them gently, but at the same pace as your other hand.

“shit,” mike groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. he already feels like he’s going to blow a load. he hasn’t had sex in a long while, but he didn’t his stamina was this terrible. he knows it’s you, though. you’re the reason why his fingertips are digging into your skin. you’re the reason why his pre-cum is leaking all over your hand. you’re the reason why when he feels like he’s close to coming, he stops you because he wants — no, needs — to feel what it’s like inside of you.

“do you have a condom?” mike breaths out. “yeah,” you say. you quickly make your way to one of your drawers, pulling out a packet. “these work?” you ask.

“yes,” he nods. “you just keep condoms laying around?”

“easy access,” you shrug.

“you fuck everybody in your kitchen, then?”

“only my hot co-workers.”

he blushes at your comment. you give him a wink, tearing open the condom. you hand it to him and he slides it on. you grab the bottle of lube you keep handy as well, slathering it onto the condom, giving mike a playful squeeze that elicits a low groan. he takes you by the waist and kisses you, spinning you around so now yours against the counter again. you take your panties off and hop on, the cold marble feeling nice against your blazing hot skin.

you lean back, watching mike line himself up with you. he looks into your eyes then back down, pushing himself inside of you. you gasp softly, your grip on his shoulders tightening. he starts off slow at first, basking in your warmth and tight walls. but soon, he’s fucking you. he slides his arm under your back and pulls your bottom half towards him, causing the angle to change. he hikes one of your legs up, allowing him to lean into you more and just hit that spot deep inside of you deliciously.

“mike,” you pant into his shoulder, holding yourself close to him. he makes your eyes flutter shut and roll back farther with each thrust. you pulsate around him with every whimper and moan that comes out of his mouth. you soon feel that familiar feeling bubble in your lower stomach.

mike rests his head against your cabinet, looking down and watching as he slides in and out of you. his grip on your sides tighten as he tries to focus on other things than you, but he can’t. you’re just too sexy. the way you’re moaning in his ear, chanting his name with each thrust. the way your nails begin to scrape against his shoulder blades. not to mention, you look amazing just sitting on the countertop. he can’t not think about you and the fact that he’s inside of you.

that’s all he needs to finish.

you wrap both legs around him as you come. your head leans back, your eyes screwing shut. he comes with you, stopping after a few slow thrusts. he slides out of you, chest heaving up and down. you squeeze your legs together and swear you can still feel him inside of you.

he ties the condom and throws it into your trash can. you have a big smile on your face when he turns to look at you. he can’t help but mirror it.

“how, uh, was that?” he asks, suddenly becoming bashful. “amazing,” you breathe out. “how did i do?” you ask teasingly.

“you were…. perfect.” his pupils are blown and you can’t tell where his iris starts. his words make your body feel even more warm. you jump off your counter and put your clothes back on, making a note to wipe off your counter with lysol soon.

“i should get back home to abby,” mike says. your smile falls, but you understand. “she probably misses you.”

“probably not,” he chuckles. “well, i know i will.” you take his hands into yours.

“you’ll see me soon,” he says, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.

“i will,” you smile, starting to feel excited again. you walk him outside, leaning on the hood of his car. “i hope to do this again sometime,” you say.

“me, too. maybe sometime before work i can make you dinner?” he suggests.

you’re smiling so hard your cheeks are starting to hurt. “i would love that.”

————

taglist

@celestbarnes

[toorumlk]

Hey! Do you think there’s any chance they might not make Romione canon in the upcoming HBO series because of the popularity of other pairings and JKR’s somewhat recent statements concerning the ship?

fair warning this is gonna be a long post!

you know anon, i’m not gonna deny that the possibility of romione not being canon in the hbo series doesn’t keep me up at night HOWEVER COMMA-

I believe romione will be safe because i’m placing a lot, if not all, of my faith in the upcoming hbo series being repeatedly described as a "faithful" adaptation of the 7 novels. which we can deduce to mean romione friends to lovers slow burn endgame and all that good stuff (maybe i'll talk about the potential of book romione and the serial tv medium some other time)

and sure, it can all be marketing/pandering/etc. but i find it so hard to feel cynical about hbo because i love LOVE their shows and i'm of the belief that they know how to tell a good ass story (and romione happens to be a good ass romance subplot). i also have such positive feelings about the showrunner Frances Gardiner (consulting prod on succession and also has killing eve under her belt) who JKR chose herself and one of the exec producers of the show who's set to direct of a bunch of episodes Mark Mylod (succession, the menu, tlou, got)!!!! and if you know me at all you'll know that succession is one of the main pillars of my personality and i fucking love that show so bad I would follow anyone who was part of the making of that show off a cliff if they asked me to. and Mark Mylod is a fantastic fucking episodic director who's directed and produced some of the best episodes of television ever, so i know he knows how to tell a good story. and though i'm a lot less familiar with Gardiners' work, she is a female creative who has some of my personal favourite episodes listed in her imdb (chiantishire, living+, tailgate party) who's pitch of the show made joanne give her the job so.... and y'all know im a canon bootlicker and love the books so all i'll say is.. real recognizes real.

so knowing the creative team behind hp series had a direct hand in making my favourite show of all time gets me so excited and giddy!!!!

but here's where my personal theories and speculations start: I really think with this hbo series, JKR is on a mission is create something wholly and newly hers. she was barely involved creatively in the production of the movies until DH pt. 1 and 2 and the movies have almost become an entity of its own that's drifted so far away from her. of course i realize me even just talking sympathetically about JKR is deeply touchy and might piss some people off but as a fellow creative, i feel for her man!! when i think of the best books in the series in my opinion that are filled with the best bits of world building and political commentary, what i find is that GoF was handed to a director who didn't even read the book, OotP was the shortest movie in the franchise despite being the longest book and how it entirely missed the Quibbler plot and all of harry's rage, or HBP that was filled to the brim with *chefs kiss* tom/voldemort lore which was done a complete disservice in the grey and brown sludgy mess that is the HBP movie.

and knowing that JKR now has a strained relationship or had a falling out with most of the top dogs involved in the films like Kloves and Yates (hallelujah what who said that) and Emma Watson and Daniel Radcliffe means this show has the chance to be a behemoth that’s entirely joanne’s, like the books are. it’ll be free of Kloves' Hermione and harmony (harry x hermione) favouritism or Watson's take on Hermione's character that makes my ass itch or Yate’s complete inability to direct his actors and make non-action scenes have heart, soul and heft. but i also can’t not address the elephant in the room: this section of the discussion is filled with every shade of grey possible because what led to the falling outs was that they all vehemently disagreed with JKR's anti-trans views and good on them they absolutely should! but like.............. i hated kloves' writing and his butchering of ron's character, i think yates is a static and boring director and im not a fan of emma's acting so like... a win is a win? NO IT'S NOT. but IT IS. BUT IT'S SO NOT. but do you see what i'm getting at???

the point i'm trying to make is that joanne is not the same person she was when she was first writing the books or when the movies were being made. I think she's a lot more ruthless and cutthroat now and while i disagree with her methods and condemn her transphobia.... i think this newfound hardness to her will lend itself to making the hbo series the best HP adaptation it can be, I'M SORRY it's absolutely fucked and i acknowledge and abhor her gender critical politics as a queer woman but im also an artist who just wants good, high quality stories to be told 😔😩

and as for the other popular ships and JKR's somewhat recent comments about romione:

I think its safe to say that joanne dgaf about this fandom and what's popular in it anymore LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭 i genuinely respect that she's always stood ten toes down about how draco's not some antihero, bad boy love interest and at best is a cautionary tale on prejudiced bullies, so I don't think that's changing anytime soon. especially considering that the dramione cottage industry that its fans have made is more or less a reactionary "fuck you" to joanne and canon which they do by writing fanfic about crimes against women and making merch and binding physical copies of said fanfics (really showing it to the big baddie transphobic DV survivor by *checks notes* auctioning hermione off as a sex slave) so I doubt she'd ever consider other ship's popularity seriously. as for the possibility of harry and hermione becoming endgame um..... if the show plans to faithfully adapt the books then we'd get harry and hermione’s quintessential sibling dynamic plus we’re already free from Kloves (also i have faith in francesca and mark knowing that harmony are just plain BORING) so i think the chances, again, are low. and if joanne really wants to stick it to her old colleagues, she can go down the route of pushing romione that much harder (and she really wouldn’t have to do much, it’s all in the books already) 😭

as for the comments on romione that she’s made in recent years, i think a lot of it’s been blown out of proportion or have gone through a terrible game of telephone. what she said (paraphrasing here) about ‘wishing she’d handled ron/hermione differently because a lot of what went into them was a wish fulfillment fantasy’ has turned into ‘jk rowling regrets making romione endgame???!!’ which is just *takes a drag from a cigarette* just another tuesday around here. i also would link to two meta posts by @saintsenara on the topic of endgame romione which i wholeheartedly agree with it

all i have to say is that going into making this show i hope joanne remembers that she based ron’s character off of a person in her life she liked when she was younger and who is still a good friend of hers now 😭😔

you guys probably know i’m in animation school which is basically film school in a different font. so i’m quite literally training to one day work in the story department on projects and work alongside writers, directors and producers, so this stuff means a lot to me! she and the creative team behind this upcoming show have the chance to make something really special and i’m finding it hard not to root for them!!!!!

[its-all-stardust]

Hey, so first of all, I love your work, it's absoluteley amazing!!!

I saw that your requests are open, so I thought that I would ask for a Matt Murdock x reader oneshot? You know, just something cute and fluffy?

Maybe I'm gonna sound a bit stereotypical but how about a reader that owns a bakery and wants to try out a new recipe. Matt tries to sneak a taste from time to time while "helping out" (honestly, he's just teasing and making reader's job probably harder [affectionaly]). Just domestic fluff? Maybe please?

You don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd give it a try :)

Thank you!! I'm glad you like my writing!! 🫂

I'm worried with this one that I tweaked things just enough that it's not exactly what you wanted anon, but I did my best and wrote what inspiration gave me!! I'll be honest, it could be fluffier, but I'm also not offended by my own writing so that's something lol I hope you like it!! ❤️❤️

Check out this post for request guidelines

Masterlist

Matt Murdock/GN!Reader

Word Count: 964

Was turning your residential apartment into a glorified bakery after you moved in with your boyfriend legal? According to Matt, a very good lawyer, it wasn’t technically illegal, so you did it anyway and prayed your landlord never found out.

It wasn’t really a bakery, not in the traditional sense. You didn’t try making it into a storefront, nor did you want it to be one. You did, however, take specialty orders through your website. You mainly baked for small events or private parties. You weren’t touching a wedding with a ten-foot pole unless you made the cake or just one of the cookies for the snack table.

It wasn’t enough to pay the bills on its own—you still had a full-time job—but you enjoyed it, and the small amount of extra income it generated was nice.

Matt enjoyed it, too. So much so that you often joked he had ulterior motives for dating you.

But even though baking was a passion, it still came with challenges.

You let out a frustrated sigh and leaned against your elbows, bent over the counter, and buried your face in your hands. 

This is the worst part about baking, you thought.

“Do you need help?” Matt asked, hand suddenly on your shoulder. You jumped, letting out a small gasp. “Sorry. I tried calling a couple of times.”

“It’s fine,” you sighed, turning to wrap your arms around his middle, leaning into him, and pressing your face against his neck. “I just hate this.”

Matt huffed a laugh. “It can’t be so bad. You say that about every new thing you try.”

“But I really mean it this time!” you whined, though you actually didn’t.

You strived for perfection, but new recipes were always daunting. Either the first few batches didn’t meet your standards, or the very first one did, but the subsequent batches often failed. You thought once or twice about not adding anything new to your menu, but you needed to keep a refreshed list, or else you risked losing repeat customers—the ones who made this business possible for you in the first place.

“We can do it together,” Matt offered, lips brushing against the top of your head. “Will that make it better?”

You considered it for a moment. Matt’s taste was impeccable. You often used him—and Foggy and Karen—as guinea pigs, and he was always able to offer you the best advice. In another life, he would have been a fantastic chef. You’ve never baked anything with him before, only handed him the finished product.

If he helped you now, as you were putting everything together, it could make the whole try, try again process you had going significantly shorter, if not bypassed completely.

“Yes, actually. I think it will,” you answered, lifting your head up. 

The only problem: Matt was a complete and utter nuisance.

He wouldn’t do what you told him, at times completely forgoing your instructions—the one you found in an old cookbook that wasn’t like anything you found online—and adding either the incorrect amount of something or adding something that wasn’t even on the list of ingredients.

No matter how many times you told him baking was an exact science and the time for experimentation was after you followed the recipe to a T and tasted the finished product, he refused to listen. You thought he did, at first, but then you caught him tossing in almond extract behind your back, and things only went downhill from there.

“Would you please stop sticking your fingers in the bowl?” you practically begged after you caught him helping himself to the cookie batter for the fourth time.

“How else am I supposed to taste it?” he asked with a playful smirk. He seemed to enjoy the fact he was making you want to pull your hair out.

“With the spoon I specifically set out for that purpose!” You picked it up and thrust it at him. He ignored it and stuck his finger in his mouth.

“But I’m blind. How am I supposed to know where it is?” 

You raised an eyebrow, not fooled. “The same way you find the bowl even after I move it.”

Matt shrugged. “Fair point. But if I used the spoon, I couldn’t do this.” He stuck his finger in the bowl again.

“Matthew, I swear to—”

He stuck his finger in your mouth, not far but enough for the batter to touch your tongue, before he pulled away.

“—God,” you couldn’t help but finish as the first notes of the batter processed. Brow furrowed, you focused on the taste, brushing your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to make it last while you sorted out the different flavors. It was…

“That’s amazing,” you said, stunned. “What did you put in there?” You pulled the bowl toward you, forgetting the spoon in your hand as you dipped in a finger from the other. It wasn’t what you were trying to make at all, and you needed another sample.

“I tried telling you it just needed a few extra ingredients.” Before you could stick your finger in your mouth, Matt took your hand, wrapping his lips around your batter-covered finger. His tongue lapped gently against the pad, almost teasing. “Now it’s perfect,” he said when he pulled away.

“I think I need you in the kitchen more often,” you said, wheels already turning in your mind.

Matt beamed at you and tried leaning in for a kiss. You, however, didn’t notice and stepped away to find your phone, leaving him confused.

You opened your notes app and said, “Quick, tell me what you did before you forget.”

Matt could only shake his head in amusement before he dutifully listed everything he had snuck into the batter.

[avocado-writing]

Roland Blum x Reader

notes: nobody asked for this but I wrote it anyway. big shout out to my mate M who helped me brainstorm this and came up with some of the *chefs kiss* lines. might do a part 2 idk rating: E, minors dni

words: 2.4k

cw: utter filth. smut; excessive discussion of oral sex; pegging; you’re both switches lmfao taglist: @clarina04 @havaheart @angiestopit @cryptid-flannelhell @shadowluna25

Roland Blum fucking hates you. 

He hates how you think you know everything even though you’re just a kid. Yeah, sure, he was the exact same way when he was your age, but he also acknowledges that he’s a hypocrite and doesn’t care. He hates the tight little outfits you wear, because he’s a slut for a well-tailored suit and you know you look exceptionally fuckable in them. He hates how he couldn’t stop imagining bending you over his desk and drenching his cock in your tight little pussy, wondering what his name would sound like from your mouth as you choke it out through orgasms. He hates that you’ve rejected his every advance so far. 

Most of all he hates how you’re good at this job. It’s infuriating. If you were shit, like so many of the others he’s seen come and go through these doors, it might be different. But you’re not. You’re a fucking shark, out for blood. Just like him. 

He hates you. 

If there’s one thing that’s worse than you it’s your shitty little boyfriend. 

He’s constantly around, trying to earn your approval - and he does need to earn it because it doesn’t take much research to find out he’s a fucking serial cheater. He has this habit of falling dick first into leggy blondes he finds at bars which you don’t much approve of. And you fucking let him keep getting away with it! You don’t even seem to like the guy that much. Roland can see the thinly veiled disinterest on your face every time your boyfriend tries to surprise you with your favourite coffee or a bunch of flowers. You accept them, and the kiss he offers, and then look relieved when he’s gone. 

You need a good fuck. You need it. He can tell, and he’s sure your boyfriend isn’t getting the job done. Nobody sexually satisfied is as bitchy as you are. Except, maybe, for him. But his exception doesn’t prove the rule. He teases you about it mercilessly and loudly, and your conversations always end the same way. 

“Maybe if someone was taking care of your vagina, it wouldn’t have sand in it.”

“I fucking hate you, Roland.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But you work well together, that can’t be denied. Case after case you take on, and case after case you win. It’s nice that you can put your mutual loathing aside to be professional for long enough to help your clients out.

He knows where you’re meant to be meeting your boyfriend that night. That fancy bar in the penthouse of that hotel. Seems fucking stupid to him, bars should be on ground level, but what does he know. While you’re in the bathroom he gets himself something strong which goes down well with the pill he takes; he sits in the corner where he won’t be seen and watches you. 

You’re sitting on a tall stool, drumming your fingers on the counter. At first you look hopeful. Then you look at your watch. Over and over again. He can see the excitement leave you and you deflate like a balloon animal left in some kid’s room as time ticks by. Eventually your phone rings, and though he can’t work out every word, you have a very short conversation with the person on the other end, finishing the call by jabbing your screen so hard he’s surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. 

You head into the elevator. He follows you. You’re the only two in there as the doors slide shut and it begins its descent. He leans on the wall and looks at you, levelly. You don’t even seem surprised that he’s there, you just look sort of tired. 

“So,” he says, and you look like you’re bracing yourself for him to mock you like he usually would, but he gets straight to the point, “you gonna let me fuck you?”

You look at him, properly look at him. You seem to sum him up for the first time since you started at the firm, let your eyes trail up and down his body, taking him in. 

“Roland, you have until the alcohol wears off.”

You barely get the last word out, actually, because he hears your consent and fucking lunges for you. His mouth is hot and rough on yours, beard scraping your chin and cheeks, and he grins into it when he hears you moan. Moaning from a kiss? You are desperate. 

He slams his fist on the emergency brake button and the elevator screeches to a halt. You pull back to look at him, confused and appalled. He likes it. 

“What?” he asks, pressing his thigh between yours, up into your needy cunt, “You said I have until the alcohol wears off, I’m not wasting a single fucking second with you.”

You seem oddly charmed by that idea, but it’s only a quick flash of sentiment over your face before he finds your clit and begins to fuck into it with the width of his thigh. You begin to twist and writhe in pleasure against him, wanting to ride him yourself, but him not allowing you the freedom to do it. He grins as he watches you melt. 

“Knew you needed someone to take care of your little cunt.”

“I fucking hate you,” you snap, but he can tell your heart isn’t in it. Not this time anyway. He pulls off his suit blazer and, with a flick of the wrist that is too certain to have not been practised before, he manages to throw it over the camera in the upper corner of the elevator, letting it hang off it as if it were a coat rack. Seemingly happy that you have a few minutes, you let him kiss his way down your body and end up on his knees in front of you. He sees the hungry way you look down at him and wants to see it on your face all the fucking time. 

He makes light work of your tight little skirt, raising his eyebrows when he gets to your thong. You shove him with your foot. 

“What?”

“Someone thought she was gonna get lucky tonight.”

“Yeah, well, I fucking am aren’t I?”

He can’t argue with that. Well, he could, but for once he doesn’t. Instead he rips it off your body with his bare hand and shoves it into his trouser pocket. You yelp but any complaints you have are quickly doused when he begins to fuck you with his mouth. He is fucking ravenous for you, pressing his fingers up inside your greedy cunt and latching onto your clit viciously. You haul a leg over his shoulder and pull him in harder against you, your heel knocking against his spine. He digs his hands into the meat of your ass and hopes his fingernails leave little crescents. 

You come once on his fingers, heavy and slick, and look both exhausted and disappointed when he pulls his hand away. He sucks his fingers dry and nods to the elevator control panel. 

“Thing’s about to start working again. I’d get dressed if I were you.”

On cue the elevator begins to whir as someone somewhere deactivates the brake. As it starts to swoop downwards and finish its journey you scrabble to get your skirt back on while Roland grins at the show. 

He takes his suit jacket and walks out the door with confidence when they open, striding past the assembled staff with utter nonchalance. 

“Get that fucking thing fixed, almost ruined my evening,” he shouts at them, but anyone looking for too long can see his beard is soaked in you. You do your best to mimic his confidence, walking out as if the elevator room doesn’t reek of sex. 

He heads to the street, doesn’t say anything, but offers the cab driver two hundred dollars to ignore what’s happening in the back seat. You bark out your address and fall into his lap. 

Roland fingers you while you’re driven to your apartment. You’re one orgasm deep and high off it, and he makes you come again in the back of a dark taxi while easy listening plays over the radio. When the journey is over you grab his tie and pull him the two flights up to your home. He likes it a lot, being led like a dog, but there will be time to explore that another day. 

Because there will be another day. 

Roland takes immense joy in fucking you on the mattress he can only imagine your boyfriend has disappointed you on hundreds of times. He has stamina, you’ll give him that, and he ends up coming inside you three times over the following hours. By the end of it you’re lying on either side of the bed, sweaty and exhausted, just listening to the sound of your combined breathing. 

“Why do you wax?” is the question he chooses to break the silence with. You look confused, and he points to your pussy. 

“Oh. Personal preference I guess.”

“No, try again.”

“What—”

“I can tell when you’re lying. About this, anyway. Tell me why.”

You clench your jaw, but admit: “My boyfriend doesn’t like me hairy.”

Roland lets out a short, loud laugh that’s reminiscent of a bark.

“What, he afraid to get a pube in his mouth?”

“Roland!” you snap, and hit him with a pillow far harder than it has any right to feel.

“I’m just saying he’s a pussy. Wait, no, let’s not use that word, I fucking love pussy - he’s a coward. Grow it out if you want to grow it out, fuck him. If my face isn’t stuck to your cunt like Velcro then it’s no fun.”

You purse your lips but don’t say anything else.

The next time he fucks you, hair is beginning to grow there again. You’ve not really spoken about that night, and a couple of weeks have already passed. There’s been too much work to think about sex, anyway. Well, to act on it, at least. Well to act on it with each other - he’s not above admitting he kept your thong and likes to have the fabric over his mouth and nose while he jerks off into the toilet. You must know but you’ve not asked for it back, which he finds just wonderful.

The two of you are working late, main office lights off, lit by lamps, utterly exhausted. You’re in business mode, swapping ideas back and forth, butting heads a little but generally agreeing with what the other is saying. Excitement builds in the room and bubbles over to something else, and suddenly you’re in his lap stripping him off, and then he’s hefting you onto the desk and pulling down your skirt. He grins when he sees the slightly more natural state of your pussy and you roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t say a fucking word.”

“Oh, but I really want to.”

You silence him with a ferocious kiss and he begins to slide inside, too horny to bother getting out of his clothes properly; which is saying something because he loves being out of his clothes. He sheathes himself in you and you throw yourself back against the legal papers, not caring about how they scatter.

“So, your boyfriend pissed you off again?” he begins to thrust, pushing his girthy cock even deeper inside your creamy pussy.

“You wanna ask this while you’re inside me?”

He shrugs. He’s still hard as rock, so doesn’t seem to mind the discussion, so you humour him as he begins to work your clit with his thumb.

“Eh, a little. He’s always pissed me off to some level.”

“Why are you with him? You seem to fucking hate him.”

“We’ve been together - aah! - since we were in high school. Our families are friends. It’s just – oh, fuck – expected now.”

“Ahh, expectation, the truest form of love.”

You seem to mull that over, sincere, but you’re taken out of the moment when he slings one of your legs up over his shoulder and fucks into you so deeply you think he’s about to split you in half.

It becomes a more regular thing after that. Your little boyfriend is still around, but he’s none the wiser that you’re spending every other night fucking one of your coworkers. And the two of you are amazing at fucking. Roland believes you could sell tickets to a show to watch the two of you going at each other, feral and needy. And you’re kinky, too! One night you wrap his belt around his neck and squeeze it so hard his vision blurs and he comes more than he has since he was a teenager. On another, you fold him in two on your bed and take your time stretching his ass open before you peg him with the biggest dildo he’s ever seen. A prostate orgasm can really make you appreciate the world a little better.

You see each other a lot outside of work now, too. Usually he feels like the little dates you go on are extended foreplay, where you can run your foot up and down his leg and press your toes into his dick, but sometimes he has to admit he just likes going out with you. You’re a quick wit, whip-smart, and fucking filthy. You’re wasted on going out with that pathetic asshole, you really are.

And one night the two of you are working late, again. You’ve both ordered Chinese takeout from down the street, and have found yourselves distracted. Not with sex, not with arguing, but with trying to fling battered chicken balls into each others’ mouths across the length of the office. You’re in literal tears as Roland tries to wheel his chair into the chicken’s oncoming trajectory only to lose his balance and tumble out of it, landing miserably on his ass.

You can’t breathe. You grip the edge of the desk for support, tears streaming down your cheeks, the long line of your beautiful throat exposed as you throw your head back laughing, and Roland finds himself fucking enamoured with you. He wants to hear your laugh all day, every day, forever, actually. He wants to go home tonight knowing his is the only cock you have inside you. Fuck it if that’s possessive, he’ll promise the same thing if it means you’ll be only his.

He’s fucked.

He’s so fucked.

Roland Blum hates you.

Except he doesn’t really. He just has to tell himself that, or he’ll realise he’s fucking fallen in love.

[moonstrider9904]

Party like a Yordle's hosting The Party

Chapter 3 of Le Coeur

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Next chapter (coming soon!) | Previous chapter

Chapter summary: Blu helps throw an impromptu party to make an excuse for Nea to spend time with Steb. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags/warnings: Steb x Original Female Character, other OCs are in the fic as well. Canon divergence, flirting, pining, crushes, teasing, fluff, brief alcohol mentions, light angst.

Word count: 7.5k

Music: remembered by the dawn, le coeur

The days since Steb had gone into the Coffeewick went by in one large blur for Nea. Between her duties and regular chores at the coffee shop, there were flashes of him brightening her moments, not unlike moonglade on a clear night over the river Pilt. In the span of about a week, Steb had been on duty near the Coffeewick twice, and each time, his vigilance stoic as he focused entirely on his assignment to watch over the surroundings. Nea would have loved to have more interaction with him, but she followed his example and immersed herself in her job too, fulfilling every one of her customers' orders and keeping the Coffeewick name as high as it ever was.

As much as both of them excelled in their duties, there were fleeting moments in those days when Steb and Nea would be facing each other even through the windows of the Coffeewick, and if they blinked they would have missed each other, but their gazes met and a little smile was exchanged. So subtle and silent, and so rare, Nea would hang onto those moments until work claimed both of them and their ways had to part. If Nea didn't have the vivid memory of Steb walking himself into the Coffeewick and meeting her formally, she would be convinced it was all a product of her fantasies.

While time would follow its march in the most conventional ways, it would seem nothing of note was happening at the Coffeewick. Blu would focus on her duties as a pastry chef and occasionally glance over at Nea, and the latter wouldn't be sighing dreamily or gazing into nothingness, lost in a daydream. Just as Blu was beginning to think that Nea was behaving completely normally about her undeniably huge crush on Steb, Nea disappeared into the back room of the Coffeewick during a lull between orders and emerged from it holding a potted plant. Nea had a soft smile on her face as she walked back to her station, her eyes focused on the plant. It wasn't very big—the pot itself was about as big as a large coffee mug, and the plant that stood at about twenty centimeters was entirely leafy and lacking flowers. The leaves were round at the base and had pointy tips, and faint veins were noticeable among them of a lighter hue of aquamarine, contrasting with the teal color of the rest of the plant.

As Nea set the plant down on one of the shelves among the many adorning mugs, Blu stared blankly at her, and her face became a blank deadpan as Blu's perception of normalcy coming from Nea shattered. When she was convinced with how the plant looked on the shelf, Nea turned around to find the puzzled Yordle staring at her as though she were disappointed, and all Nea could do was giggle.

"What?" Nea asked.

"I might ask you the same thing," Blu raised her brows. "You realize what you're doing, right?"

"Decorating the place a little more," Nea answered.

"Yeah, because the Coffeewick needs more plants," Blu raised her paws in the air, gesturing at the hanging potted plants and leafy vines that dangled among the fairy lights.

"It doesn't need any, but more plants are welcome," Nea smiled. "I saw this little plant and thought it would look nice."

"Oh, really"? Blu raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Nea replied.

"Oh, really?" Blu emphasized, her paws landing on her hips as she bent forward, squinting her eyes at Nea.

"Yes," Nea squinted too, meeting Blu's challenge.

"So, that teal plant with aquamarine accents doesn't remind you of anything?" Blu interrogated.

"Don't know what you mean," Nea crossed her arms.

"You just got that plant, just 'cause," Blu added.

"If you're going to accuse me of something, do it now," Nea said.

"Aha! J'accuse!" Blu pointed at Nea.

"It’s not as impactful after I told you to do it," Nea replied, unbothered. "What is it you're accusing me of?"

"You got that plant because it reminds you of your boooooyfriend," Blu puckered her lips and interlaced her fingers in front of her.

"He is not my boyfriend," Nea's cheeks got red.

"You didn't deny the part where that plant reminds you of him," Blu smirked, crossing her arms in front of her.

Nea glanced over at the plant and sighed, looking at Blu again in defeat. In response, Blu snickered and pranced herself over to the cash register, where Donnie and Lily were making their change in shifts. Blu tapped on Donnie's calf to get his attention, and when Donnie looked down at her, Blu was holding her paw extended.

"Pay," Blu said.

"What? Why?" Donnie asked.

Blu gestured at Nea's plant. "She admitted it reminds her of the subject."

"Hey, I verbally admitted nothing," Nea frowned. "And did you two make a bet?"

"No!" Blu denied. "Donnie and I didn't bet."

"Lily was in on it too," Donnie folded, earning himself a glare from Blu.

"Thanks," Lily grumbled.

"Nea's a good boss, okay?" Donnie whisper-yelled at Lily. "She also pays our checks."

"And what exactly were you betting on?" Nea raised her brows, curious, her gaze piercing into Donnie knowing he'd be the one to answer.

Donnie blushed slightly, and to Nea, he seemed like a lost puppy for a moment. "We, uh... we bet that you would, how do I say this?"

"Lose a screw," Blu snickered. "I bet you would do something that would scream that you're in loooove in less than a week."

"I bet it would be a month and that you'd ask Steb out," Donnie said. "Lily bet three weeks, and that he would ask you out first."

Nea looked over at Lily, her features softening. "Thanks for that." She looked at Donnie. "I don't recall telling you what his name was." Nea finally looked over at Blu. "But I guess you were the one to tell them."

Blu cackled. "Seriously, it's been, like, uber fun watching you crush over him. Getting a plant that looks like your crush is, well... not even I saw that coming."

"You should ask him out already," Donnie encouraged.

"No, Nea should wait for him to make the first move and ask her out," Lily countered. "She deserves a gentleman who's not afraid to pursue and woo her."

"Oh, Lily honey, Nea doesn't need wooing," Blu said. "She's plenty wooed, believe me."

"Don't tell me you've never been in love, Blu," Lily said. "It's cute that Nea likes someone that much, and I ship them."

"Stea all the way," Donnie smiled, but seemed to doubt his designation for them. "Stea? Neb? Sneb?"

"We get it, Donnie," Lily petted his shoulder gently.

Nea pondered on all the things her friends were saying, smiling softly. Despite the fact that they'd clearly talked about her feelings when she couldn't hear them, it warmed her heart thinking they were rooting for her. And suddenly it dawned on her that to have her friends engaging in friendly gossip about her dynamic with Steb was as much as she was getting in regard to him. As long as he was in his enforcer uniform and she was in her apron, she wouldn't be able to spend nearly as much time with him as she'd want to, and that was if Steb was even stationed near the Coffeewick. Seeing him through the Coffeewick windows just wasn't enough—even if his image came in like the golden warmth of sunlight through the window, Nea wanted to be with him, hear his voice, see the way the little fins surrounding his eyes and his ears flickered in reaction to her voice. The thought of being near him made her heart ache, and the sentiment peered into her eyes, prompting the chatter to quiet down as everyone gazed at her with concern.

"What is it?" Blu asked.

"I did get the plant because it reminds me of him," Nea admitted.

"Shocker," Blu said.

"But that happened because I want to see more of him, but I can't," Nea continued. "He isn't always here, and when he is, I don't want to interrupt him. I know he has to focus—"

"This is one of the safest corners in Piltover," Blu cut in. "No offense to him, but if he's keeping watch here, his job is ceremonial."

"He could still get in trouble if he's seen getting distracted with the cute barista who works near his post," Donnie said.

"Thanks for that," Nea smiled at him, looking at Blu. "And he's right. If Steb got in trouble because of me, I'd bury myself in the ground and never come out."

"Nea, I've told you thousands upon millions of times not to exaggerate," Blu shook her head.

Nea couldn't help but snicker at her remark, and when Blu noticed she'd gotten a laugh out of her, the Yordle smiled.

"What you need is a way to see him off duty," Blu said. "That won't be so hard."

"Yeah, like a casual way to spend more time with him," Lily agreed. "Get to know him, you know?"

"But what could it be?" Nea pondered. "If we go somewhere else just us two it would practically be a date."

"Why don't you tell him to come get coffee when he's off duty to spend his day?" Donnie suggested.

"That could either be a raging success or get very awkward," Lily added. "What if he feels pressured to be around Nea but Nea has to focus on work?"

"I don't want Nea getting her first messed up order milestone," Blu said. "Hanging out at the Coffeewick comes later in the crush, when her gooey lovey dovey tendencies have worn off."

"I'll have you know, the time he came in a few days ago went fine," Nea defended herself.

"Yeah, because the Coffeewick was empty and the only brew you had was his," Blu countered.

"But—"

"No," Blu frowned.

Nea rolled her eyes. "Okay so, nothing that could be a date because I want our first date to actually be a date. It also can't be something where either one of us is working for obvious reasons. Maybe a movie night here at home? Maybe I could break a pipe in the kitchen and ask him to come look at it—"

Then, Nea gasped, and with bright eyes, she looked over at Blu again. When Blu saw the look on Nea's face, the Yordle knew she was planning something, and a part of her felt fear.

"What?" Blu asked.

"You once told me you hosted parties in Bandle City," Nea stated.

"Yeah...?"

"Oh, great idea," Lily's whole face lit up.

"Wait, you want to host a party, invite him, and neglect everything and everyone else at the party to flirt with him?" Blu grimaced.

"Yep," Nea said. "We'll do it on the roof, get snacks and good beer, you'll pick the music and attractions. It'll be a breeze."

"Nea, I held parties in Bandle City to end rivalries, make portal yarn, and restore the magic system that weaves Bandle City together, not to facilitate flirting!" Blu protested.

"But there's something in common here," Nea said. "You did that to help others, and for this party, you'd be helping me!"

Blu squinted at Nea. "You're comparing yourself and your gigantic crush to my efforts to restore the Bandle City portals?"

"Yes," Nea said.

"The audacity," Blu scoffed.

As Blu and Nea continued their party debate, Lily took the apron from Donnie and took another order from the line of customers.

"Think of it as..." Nea continued. "Building a portal. Between me and Steb."

"That is both really gooey and a very lazy metaphor," Blu said.

"Or is it romantic?" Nea asked.

"Nope," Blu stomped her knitted leg. "Icky icky. Gross gross."

"Oh, come on!" Nea groaned as Lily handed her an influx of orders, and she got to brewing. "Seeing him off duty was your idea."

"Yeah, but—"

Blu was interrupted by the sound of Lily loudly clearing her throat. "Good day, officer! If you would please get in line, I will take your order in a moment!"

Blu and Nea stopped their bickering on the spot. Nea's gaze flew toward the door, and Blu had to climb up on her usual chair to get a visual of the rest of the Coffeewick from behind the counter. The two were looking at the doorway, under which stood Steb in full uniform with a kind, discreet smile. The helmet of his uniform cast a soft shadow over his eyes, and with the light that reflected off of them, it seemed as if they were shimmering. It was hard for Nea not to squeal at the sight—how was it possible for a full grown man, in uniform, to be so debonair and yet so adorable?

Nea's smile widened at the sight of Steb, but before she could react in any other way, Blu placed her paws on her and gave her a little push in the direction of the coffee machines.

"Brew," Blu said.

"But—"

"He'll be at the end of the counter soon enough, now brew," Blu commanded.

Before Nea headed to her station, she looked at Steb and smiled softly, and her heart fluttered when he returned the gesture. Brewing the drinks that had come into the queue in the meantime proved to be a challenge, but Nea still didn't mess up a single one. Fortunately for her, coffee was second nature to her, and she was capable of fulfilling all of those orders even if she was well aware that Steb was near her. If she focused hard, she could almost distract herself from the fact that his gaze was probably on her---she hoped with every fiber that was the case.

And eventually, among the queue of orders, Nea came across a latte like the ones she’d already made for Steb, and a little smile curved her lips. With extra care, Nea brewed the espresso and steamed the milk and, when it was time for her to pour the milk into the coffee, it was as if her brain blacked out and made her do the exact movements to create a little heart-shaped foam art to top that latte. When she realized the shape she'd traced, not only did she suddenly find herself fearing it wouldn't be his, but she also wasn't sure if she would rather have him notice the heart or completely look over it.

Regardless, the drink was ready, and it was strictly protocol to hand it to him. Nea went toward the end of the counter, and before she arrived, her eyes had finally found Steb, and her heart did another jump when she found his gaze was, indeed, already on her.

"Hi," Nea uttered. "Fancy meeting you here."

He smiled at her, and it seemed his already perfect posture straightened even more at the sight of her, making him adopt an air of grandness in his elegant uniform.

"I had a break, I figured I'd come in for a drink," Steb said. "It's pricier than the last time I came, though."

Nea blushed. "Uh-um, yeah, that was a, uh... special discount."

"Your business partner informed me," Steb said, taking his helmet off for a moment as he looked at her. His ocean eyes then drifted from Nea's gaze to the coffee in her hands, and his watchful gaze picked up on the shape that was traced on the foam. The fins surrounding his eyes flared subtly, but Steb kept a straight face as he took the cup delicately from her. "Thank you."

"Will you drink that here?" Nea asked.

"Yes, though I'm still waiting for a pastry," Steb answered. "I'm not in any hurry."

"Great," Nea smiled brightly.

"But please, don't let me distract you from your work," Steb continued.

"Right, coffee," Nea glanced over her shoulder at the brewer. "Gimme a second."

Nea turned around and walked over to her machine. As she did, Steb's gaze shifted between her and the coffee cup he held in one hand, carefully examining the curves of the heart. For a moment, he didn't want to spoil it by drinking the coffee, but he also wouldn't deny it was some of the best he'd ever had. His thin lips adopted a smile, and he looked over at Nea again, admiring as she worked her magic. Then, Steb found himself jumping slightly, startled once again, as a little Yordle suddenly popped up from behind the counter. Her big brown eyes stared blankly at him, and she said nothing, though Steb could tell she was holding in a giggle.

Steb smiled chivalrously at Blu. "Nice to see you again."

Blu didn't blink. She held out her paw, in which she held a paper bag. "Your muffin."

Steb placed his helmet on again to free his hand, with which he took the pastry from her. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am, I'm only 117 years old," Blu frowned, and just then, Nea walked up behind her and delivered another two drinks before acknowledging Steb again.

"You... still look great for your age?" Steb told Blu.

Blu clicked her tongue and groaned at the same time, producing a strange sound that disregarded every word Steb had just spoken.

"That's actually young for a Yordle," Nea giggled. "But anyway, is... is everything okay with your order?"

"Yes, thank you," Steb smiled, and the two shared a thick, tense silence that begged to be broken. When neither one said anything, Steb was just beginning to angle his body away to go find a table, and behind the counter, Nea felt Blu softly kicking her outer thigh.

"Wait," Nea blurted.

Steb looked at her again, his features riddled with confusion, yet another expression that looked adorable on him.

"I, uh..." Nea regretted calling his attention again without knowing what to say. It then occurred to her that Blu had never actually agreed to the party, but at that moment and for some strange reason, inviting Steb to a make-believe party seemed like the most reasonable course of action. "Come to our party!"

"Oh?" Steb asked her.

Meanwhile, Blu directed a hostile look at Nea and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, um... we're having a party, a casual party," Nea blushed fiercely. "Snacks, uh... music. Here. Well, not here. On the roof. There's stuff on the roof. Nice stuff, chairs and tables, not ugly stuff like pigeon cra—"

"Tomorrow at 8:00 sharp, casual dress code, you don't need to bring anything," Blu interrupted, cool and collected.

"Tomorrow?" Nea asked, surprised.

"Tomorrow," Blu confirmed.

"Tomorrow," Nea nodded at Steb, appearing as calm as she could, as if she hadn't just melted into a stuttering mess in front of him.

Steb chuckled. "That sounds nice, I'd love to come."

"You can reach the roof through the fire escape, can't miss it," Blu said. "Tell your friends."

Steb smiled at Blu. "Thanks." He then looked over at Nea and raised the cup of coffee slightly. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah," Nea sighed with a smile. "See you."

Steb walked off and found a table on the other side of the Coffeewick to have his drink and his pastry, unfortunately—or perhaps, fortunately—out of sight and hearing range from Blu and Nea. Nea hurried back to the coffee machine to brew the orders that followed, and Blu was just starting to get down from her chair when Nea rushed back behind her and gave her a tight hug, even a couple of kisses on the top of her head.

"I love you, you know that?" Nea squeezed Blu.

"No squeezing—" Blu wheezed. "You owe me big time. I accept payment in the form of cheese."

"I will buy you all the cheese you want," Nea replied. "Seriously, thanks."

"You are welcome," Blu giggled. "Pigeon crap, seriously? You're hopeless. Of course I had to butt in and save you. But I still don't like the idea of throwing a whole party only for you to pucker your lips at your crush, though. If you end up making out, have the decency to hide."

"Blu!" Nea blushed.

Blu cackled at the sight of Nea all embarrassed and flustered. "For now, you just focus on fulfilling all those orders."

"What about the planning?" Nea asked. "I don't doubt your skills as a party host, but we have a little over a day to make this happen."

"Don't you worry," Blu walked off. "I've got this."

"Are you sure?" Nea asked.

"Trust me," Blu wiggled her eyebrows and smirk. "You asked for a party and a party you'll get. I'm gonna host The Party."

"What do you need me to do?" Nea asked as she steamed more milk.

"Find something pretty to wear," Blu replied. "Make my party worth it."

"That sounds... easy," Nea pondered. "You're gonna make me clean afterwards, aren't you?"

"Yep," Blu smirked. "If he's your boyfriend by then, you can ask him to help."

Nea blushed. It dawned on her that the following night might be a big one in her and Steb's relationship. What if Blu was right, and she and Steb actually took things a little further with that party?

"Nea, coffee, now," Blu clapped her paws and brought Nea out of her daze.

"Right, sorry," Nea mumbled.

After the party matter was settled, Nea found it easier to dive back into her work. She was having such a good run with the queue of drinks that she almost didn't notice when Steb finished his break and left the Coffeewick—almost. Just as he was opening the door to leave, Steb held it open for an old couple to walk through, and Nea caught sight of him at that moment. The two shared a brief smile, and just like that, it was time for Steb to be on duty again. Nea watched him through the glass as he returned to his post, and when her smile widened uncontrollably, she realized just how little patience she'd have between that moment and the party.

*

Each time Nea asked Blu what she could do for the party, Blu brushed her off and told her she'd take care of it. At first, Nea thought Blu was cranky about planning a party for the sole purpose of Nea and Steb getting together, but when the sun set and the stars came out, and Nea made her way to the rooftop of the Coffeewick, it all became clear. If Blu had told Nea to stay out of the planning, it was to give her a very pleasant surprise.

It dawned on Nea that Blu had saved Bandle City partly through parties at one point in her life, and that wasn't something to be taken lightly. The party at hand must have been child's play for Blu, but that didn't mean Blu had slacked off. She'd picked warm, steady lighting to illuminate the rooftop and the decor consisted of artificial plants embellished with fairy lights of different colors. The tunes were just the right balance between rhythmic and mellow, and the volume wasn't so loud that it invited trashy demeanors. Blu had set up a table entirely dedicated to snacks ranging from sweet to salty—food was always guaranteed to heighten the success of a gathering. As for the guest list, it was easy. Blu had simply told Donnie and Lily to invite their Academy friends. After all, any soon-to-be Academy graduate would happily enjoy a little party to decompress from all their studies. The guests were arriving, and it seemed like the party wouldn't spiral out of control with the amount of people that were there. Already, jokes and laughter could be heard over the music, plates were being filled with snacks, and beer bottles were being opened. Nea smiled at the sight of the party unfolding and felt her chest doing a little flutter. It seemed promising.

From behind the snack table emerged Blu, clapping her little paws together a few times as though to dust them off. Nea walked over to her and the two observed the results of Blu's handiwork, and all the while, the Yordle adopted a proud, accomplished pose with her hands on her hips and her snout held high.

"I'm impressed," Nea told her.

"I told you to let me handle it," Blu winked.

"At the risk of ticking you off, are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?" Nea figured she'd ask one last time. "Will anyone want any coffee?"

Blu looked at Nea and fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Amateur."

Nea stuck her tongue out at Blu.

"So where is he?" Blu asked. "It's past 8."

The pleasant rush of seeing the party setup faded into a cloud of pure nerves within Nea. Blu was right, it was past the hour Nea had told Steb he could be there. He was an enforcer, so of course he had to know punctuality. Why wasn't he there yet?

"I don't know," Nea muttered, looking out at the landscape of Piltover and the endless city lights.

Blu observed Nea's reaction, and it was easy to tell she was beginning to worry. "Hey, I didn't mean it like that. He'll be here."

"You think so?" Nea asked.

"He clearly likes you too," Blu admitted. "When a guy likes a girl, he does nearly anything for her."

"How do you know that?" Nea questioned.

"Guys are simple," Blu replied. "Most of the time."

"Most of the time," Nea felt her pulse rising. "Blu, what if he doesn't show up?"

"He will," Blu reiterated.

"Yeah, but what if he doesn't?" Nea asked. "I've been so happy and hopeful but I never even paused to think that I might be delusional."

"You're overthinking—"

"What if I'm not?"

"If you have to start with what if then trust me, you're overthinking," Blu positioned herself in front of Nea. "Have you not seen the way he looks at you? He's as down bad for you as you are for him. Just give him a few minutes, he'll show up."

Nea gave a shaky breath and dared herself to ask the question. "And if he doesn't really like me back and he's just being friendly? And if he does show up and even then it turns out he doesn't feel the same way?"

Blu sighed softly and gave Nea a reassuring smile. "If that happens, we'll raise the fee for all enforcers and I'll mail him a perilous pie. Deal?"

"Are perilous pies poisonous?" Nea raised a brow.

"Deal?" Blu emphasized.

Nea sighed and smiled at her loyal partner. "Deal."

Blu gave a determined little nod and walked over to Nea, hugging her leg. "Now, chill. Get a beer, I bought your favorite. I'll handle the rest."

Nea leaned forward and scratched the top of Blu's head, and just as she was straightening up, she noticed movement around the fire escape. Nea's whole face lit up with a smile and she gasped when she saw who it was, and in a second, she took in Steb's outfit. It always amazed her to see him out of his uniform, and that night, he donned dark trousers and a brown knit sweater, one that made Nea fantasize how cozy it would feel to hug him. Though his attire was simple, an air of elegance surrounded Steb, and Nea then noticed that his sleeves were slightly rolled up, revealing a hint of his forearms and a brown leather watch around his right wrist. Grinning, Nea was just about to make her way over to Steb when he bent over the fire escape and extended his hand, and he helped a young woman with short ginger hair and blue eyes get on the roof as well.

Nea felt a rush of cold washing through her body, and her bright smile ran from her features, leaving her unable to hide the sudden darkness that came with the sight of Steb being in company of another woman. Blu had let go of Nea's leg, and she was looking at the sight of Steb and this mystery woman with equal distaste, quickly turning at Nea in hopes of preventing her best friend from spiraling.

"It means nothing," Blu tried to convince. "I told him to tell his friends."

Nea tried to keep from panting. "I don't know, Blu."

"Look, just go to him," Blu snuck another glance at the woman. "You're way cuter than her, now go."

Nea knew that Blu could be right, but she also knew that if Steb and this woman were together, she'd burst into tears on the spot. Running and hiding like she wanted to wasn't an option either; Steb had already seen her from across the roof. Nea managed the best smile she could—it was merely a bleak attempt—and, facing her fears, she walked herself over to Steb, mentally going over the endless amount of opening lines she could deliver and telling herself to be nice to the new girl, whatever she was to him.

And from across the roof, Steb found himself unable to keep smiling at Nea. How could he, when she wasn't looking at him the way she always did? He scolded himself—yes, Maddie had been his friend and confidant for a long time now, and being with another familiar face in the middle of a gathering would help him be more at ease, especially if one of the people at the gathering had consumed his thoughts and dreams for more nights than he could count. But he should have known that seeing him arrive with another girl would throw Nea off guard.

"So, who's the girl?" Maddie asked him as she scanned the party.

"She's coming toward us," Steb replied.

"Ooh, I see her," Maddie focused her gaze on the brunette walking their way. "Oh yeah, she's very cute."

Steb gave a soft chuckle. With her big brown eyes, her short black hair styled into gracious waves, fitted white sweater and dark skinny jeans with fluffy boots that stopped beneath her knee and topped with a brown walker coat that seemed to emphasize her waistline, she was more than cute. Nea looked gorgeous, so much that the sight of her walking toward him made the fins around his eyes flare with anticipation, and Steb could only hope he'd be able to convey that to her.

"Nea," Steb greeted, smiling softly at her.

Seeing him smile at her made some of the confidence return to Nea, and she had to admit, he was so beautiful that even if she was worried, she couldn't not sigh dreamily at the sight of him.

"You made it," she smiled at him. "And you brought a friend?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm sorry, I hope it's okay," Steb stuttered.

Before either of them could continue, Maddie took a step forward and threw her arms around Nea, pulling her in for a warm hug.

"Steb's told me so much about you!" Maddie greeted.

Nea's eyes widened when Maddie hugged her, but she recognized the hug had no ill intent. Surprising as it was to come across someone so outgoing, the first impression Maddie gave her was that of a ray of sunshine. Maddie pulled away from the hug with her hands still resting on Nea's shoulders, smiling brightly at her.

"I'm Maddie," she said. She had a thick accent too, but it was different from Steb's. "Junior officer and best friend of this fine young man."

"Really," Nea sighed and looked over at Steb.

"Oh, yeah, we've stopped big crimes together, him and me," Maddie continued.

"Not really," Steb downplayed the drama.

Maddie then let go of Nea and eyed Steb heavily in a look that seemed to scream I'm trying to make you look good. Steb shrugged and decided he'd let Maddie do what she did; he'd known her long enough to know she was an unhinged force, anyway. Then, Maddie faced Nea once more, and her blue eyes scanned every detail of the place.

"Did you do all this?" Maddie asked. "It looks lovely!"

"Thanks," Nea smiled, finally appearing a bit more relaxed. "My friend did, actually. She's the mastermind behind, well, everything."

"I'd love to meet her," Maddie grinned. "Just point me in the right direction."

"She's the only Yordle at the party, you'll meet her by the snacks," Nea said. "And please, help yourself to whatever you want."

"Thanks," Maddie winked before walking off.

When they were left alone, Steb and Nea gazed into each other's eyes, both of them with little smiles that gave away their nerves even more than the blush across their noses. Moments of tense silence flew by them, and when both wanted to break it, they wound up muttering at the same time only to giggle and fall into silence again. Then, Nea tucked a strand of hair behind her head and looked away from Steb as her blush seemed to intensify.

"I'm glad you came," she said.

Steb laughed softly. "Yeah, me too. Sorry for being late... Maddie forced me into a detour. Some petty graffiti she found funny."

"Right..." Nea said. "Maddie... she seems chipper."

"Y-yeah," Steb looked away and felt his pulse rising. "She's a friend. Just a friend."

When he said those words, Nea inevitably smiled at him, and he couldn't help but return the gesture.

"Really?" She asked him.

"Yes," Steb accepted. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to give you the wrong idea when you saw me with her."

"I... You did," Nea admitted. "I thought you were together for a moment."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Nea looked away sadly.

"Why did that bother you?" Steb asked, coyly raising a brow.

"Oh, I-I never said it did..." Nea met his gaze again.

Steb chuckled. "Touché."

Nea's eyes sparkled, and it was all she could do not to close the space between them.

"Should we get a drink?" Steb invited and he held out his arm. Nea's hesitation took the form of a sweet glance at his elbow before looking him in the eyes again, and with a little smile, she linked her arm in his, and the two walked over to the table where the drinks and snacks were.

When they got there, Steb told her to wait while he fixed them a couple of drinks, and Nea bashfully waited while a beverage was being made for her for a change. As she waited, Nea looked around the party at all the people having fun, and eventually, she found Blu sitting in one of the larger chairs up against the wall. Nea giggled at the sight of Blu sitting back and hugging a bowl twice as large as her head, stuffing chips into her mouth with one paw while holding up her other thumb, cheering her on.

Nea then felt a presence near her and she was convinced it was Steb. She turned to face her companion with a dreamy smile and ready to enjoy the rest of the party with him, possibly to then sneak away and take him someplace quieter, but her fantasies hit a hard pause when she noticed it was actually Maddie who had appeared next to her. Her blue eyes scanned Nea with curiosity and she seemed to be inching closer.

"So," Maddie began. "You run the coffee shop downstairs?"

"Yeah," Nea replied as nonchalantly as she could.

"I bet you're talented," Maddie's voice fell into a purr. "I've been meaning to drink more coffee myself, but I figure not just anyone can brew a good cup. Maybe you could show me."

"Um... sure?" Nea asked.

Just then, Maddie began to sway and bounce to the mellow rhythm of the music, and her body moved even closer to Nea. There came a point when Maddie was far too close to be interpreted as a friendly acquaintance, and Nea snuck a quick glance in Blu's direction; she was forced to hold in her laughter when she saw that Blu was witnessing the whole thing, and her snout, full of potato chip crumbs, was wide open in shock at the sight of Maddie flirtatiously dancing for Nea. Funny as it was, Nea knew she had to put a stop to the current events, but before she could, she felt an arm protectively wrapping around her shoulders.

"Maddie?" Steb asked. "What are you doing?"

Maddie shrugged off his comment and looked smugly at him, still bouncing and swaying slightly to the music. "Hey, I told you. If you're not going to make a move, I will."

"W-what?" Nea stuttered, looking at Steb, who appeared to blush fiercely despite being unamused at Maddie's antics. Even with his face of contempt, Steb seemed at a loss for words, and in turn, Maddie simply giggled.

"Enjoy the party," she said, and before she was out of sight, she winked over at Steb. She then got lost among the partygoers, all while Nea and Steb stood completely still, and it wasn't until a few long moments later that Nea finally realized the pose she was in. Steb had kept his arm wrapped around her, with his hand in the small of her back, and she hadn't moved away. Steb seemed to realize that at the same time she did, and in a reflex, he freed Nea from his grip, and the way his ears tilted downwards gave away his embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," Steb said. "I just... I didn't like seeing her so close to you."

Nea chuckled. "I suppose... Why did that bother you?"

Steb met her gaze incredulously, thinking the only possibility for such a question was that Nea wanted to hear him say it. Even though his chest was shaking and his eye fins were flaring, he managed a bashful smile, and now he began inching himself closer to her.

"Well, I..." He began. "I thought you and I... I just don't want to see anyone else flirting with you."

As all the worries Nea had earlier about Steb's feelings for her faded away, her smile softened and she took a step closer to him. Where she was, she could now feel his warmth and breathe in his scent, and for a moment, she became intoxicated with him.

"Me neither," she admitted.

Steb smiled at the sight of Nea moving closer to him, and only then it dawned on him he'd left their drinks at the other side of the table. It didn't matter, though. It just left his hands free for him to finally hold her, and shyly, he cupped the sides of her face. Her cheeks were warm under his touch, and the heavenly smile she directed at him was embellished by the lights caressing her face. She looked angelic, and Steb couldn't think of a better way to share a first kiss with her. He began to lean down, and Nea slightly perked her lips up, ready to receive him and sink into the perfection of the moment. Before their lips could touch, the illusion shattered when a loud bang could be heard in the distance followed by the sound of glass falling.

Everyone at the party heard it, and when Nea saw no glass on the roof, she realized the sound had come from the ground level, not far away. Even worse, it had sounded like it came from the Coffeewick. She glanced quickly at Steb in brief acknowledgement before running toward the fire escape and looking over the edge, fearing the worst when she saw that the broken glass was indeed next to the beloved coffee shop. When Nea climbed over the fire escape and went down without a word, Blu leaped from her chair and followed, as did Steb and Maddie, while the rest of the partygoers remained on the roof and watched from a distance.

"Wait," Maddie caught up to Nea and stopped her. "Let Steb and I go in first."

Swiftly, Steb made his way past Nea and Blu, catching up to Maddie. Though they had no gear or batons, both of them were confident in their training as enforcers, and they were both ready to confront whatever waited for them beside that broken glass whether it was a burglar or an overly mischievous kid. Now in the back line, Nea and Blu followed worriedly after them, and when they were right next to the shattered window, it seemed for a moment that no danger was imminent.

Maddie gave a sigh and stepped aside, revealing the full scene. "It was a bird."

"A bird?" Nea inquired with no less worry, and Blu walked past her, kneeling down next to the poor creature on the ground.

"Oh, no," Blu took off her scarf and wrapped it around the bird, who chirped weakly at Blu's movements. "It must have been flying fast to cause a crash like this."

"Can you help it?" Nea kneeled down next to Blu with a comforting hand on the Yordle's back.

"Yeah, I think so," Blu replied. "But I have to do it now."

"Maddie," Steb faced his friend, even if she had just come onto the girl he'd fallen for. "Go with Blu, I'll call someone to look at the window."

Without a question, Maddie nodded at Steb and took Blu and the bird back up the fire escape. When Blu and Maddie made it to the rooftop, the partygoers who'd been looking over the edge seemed to follow in her direction, and Steb and Nea were left alone on the ground next to the Coffeewick. The street appeared to be empty, and the vacancy somehow made it darker, and in a space like that, it was hard for Nea to find much comfort even if she knew that the cause of the shattered window posed no threat for her. She and Steb remained in silence as he took out his radio transmitter and focused on it, while Nea went to a bench at the edge of the sidewalk just under a tree and took a seat.

Steb finished using his radio and put it back in his pocket, after which he looked at Nea. His heart swelled at the sight of her sitting on the bench cross-legged and hugging herself tightly with her arms, her brown eyes gazing at the shattered glass on the sidewalk. As he began walking towards her, he directed a comforting smile at her and spoke in a soft tone.

"I've called a squad who's on duty," Steb said as he took a seat next to Nea. "They'll be here shortly along with someone who can clean this up."

Nea's posture softened, and her hands fell to her thighs. "Thanks."

Steb looked at the ground and tried to find something to say. "Bird's gonna be okay."

"Yeah," Nea smiled softly at his attempts to make her feel better and she gave a little sigh. "I'm sorry for the intensity, Steb. I just really felt afraid for a moment there. This is a safe part even in Piltover, but... when you own a business, you can never be too careful."

She trailed off for a moment and she lifted her gaze up, looking at the Coffeewick with its lights turned off and tables completely empty, able to make out the details of the plants in the darkness, particularly the one she'd gotten that reminded her of Steb.

"This place means the world to me," Nea continued. "If anything ever happened to it, I'd..."

Without thinking much of it, Steb placed his hand on Nea's as a comforting gesture. "I understand."

Her cheeks turned pink and she smiled at the sight of his hand holding hers, and she looked at him with that same tender expression. "I'm really glad you're here."

While he felt his heart stop when he took her hand, Steb's nerves faded and he was able to settle in an adoring look that held no fear.

"Me too," he whispered.

Nea felt a sensation in her chest she'd never felt before, and it was all because of him and how beautiful his eyes looked when he watched her like that, with concern and affection. What she wouldn't have given to kiss him right there, just as they would have done up on the roof had their moment not been cruelly interrupted, but there was a lingering shyness produced by the fragments of glass on the ground. She wanted it to be perfect, and even though a kiss at that moment would have been meaningful, her first kiss with Steb should be a joyous occasion, not the aftermath of a fright. What made her heart swell in even more desire for him was the fact that Steb understood, and he wouldn't rush.

Slowly, Nea shifted her body closer to Steb until the side of her arm pressed was to his. With their hands still holding, Nea leaned her head on Steb's shoulder, relishing in how soft the wool of his sweater was. She could feel Steb stiffen, and she was ready to pull away if he was uncomfortable, but she then felt him leaning on her as well. Finally, Nea let her lips curve into a smile and her guard came down, and the pair waited silently for the squad of enforcers to arrive.

Thanks so much for reading! Please reblog to help me get out there!

Next chapter -> (coming soon!)

[fenharel]

some of my thoughts after finishing veilguard a couple days ago before i start my second playthrough :)

ok i think its important to note first that the things i was most looking forward too was 1. solas, 2. solavellan, 3. lore. im self aware enough to know that this will have had some influence towards what i expected from the game and what i enjoyed/cared about or not 👍

good

solas: im honestly so happy. my man is finally happy and reunited with his wife!!!!!! my heart feels so full 😭 this game was a solas fans wet dream. absolutely loved everything we got. hunting down regrets and watching old memories. talking to him in the fade. the entire crossroads!!!!!! him shit talking elgar'nan. watching him go trickster mode and imprison rook. fighting the archdemon as the dread wolf!!!!!! i could go on forever. CHEFS KISS TO IT ALL<3333333333333 if anything i wish there would have been MORE im greedy what can i say

solavellan: screaming crying throwing up. i still cant believe it oh my fucking god

lore reveals: i found all the reveals about all our old theories so fun. i didnt like all of them (old gods are just dragons? c'mon.) but overall it felt so rewarding to have picked up on it all. or be totally surprised by something (mythal and solas the reason for the titans and the blight? wow.)

the executors, forgotten and forbidden ones: the next big bads of the next game huh!!!! loved what we got for the most part, the mysterious circle codexes where probably the most interesting in the game. anaris actually showing up shocked me. i wish bellaras brother didnt say "for plot reasons i must die" and actually told us something about him but oh well. im cautiously optimistic about the secret ending for now. what it implied could go either way for now...

main quest: not all of them, but a lot of them were awesome. dare i say some quests were up there with the best main quests in da??? weisshaupt was epic. or the blood of arlathan. every time we get to talk to solas (thehe<3). the final bits. the strong points were so strong that the low points got highlighted a bit too much imo

act 3: by far my favourite act. this was soooo good. the romance finally (?!) kicking it. suicide mission 2.0 stressed me tf out. the varric reveal? send me to the asylum. solas tricking rook? king behaviour i was cheering for him while crying about varric. the dread wolf transformation. the conversation between solas/mythal/lavellan at the end. i basically was in tears throughout half of the thing. couldnt read the credits at all. act 3 was amazing

minrathous vs treviso: i loved this especially with the angst of playing a shadow dragon who failed minrathous. and then the consequences and quest changes this causes throughout the game was really cool. i wish there were more bigger choices like this since it felt a bit flat choice wise besides of this one, but it was amazing.

villains: ghilan'nain and elgar'nan were great. they really felt like the tyrannical gods they were supposed to be. im so glad there was mostly no corypheus-esque cringe. (tho especially ghil had some video gamey lines but sdjkfhjksdf i still love her)

neutral

rook: i dont really care much about rook.. 🙈. mind you rook was certainly not the reason why i wanted to play this game so im sure a second playthrough will make me warm up to them more, now that my head is more free, but it just didnt insta click. rook didnt feel like a real person to me, almost nobody had any (to my taste) realistic reactions towards them. the stakes just were too high for them to get treated this way (nobody is pissed off that they freed the gods? everyone just believes them when they say gods are walking around? everyone just agrees to work with them? nobody cares how rook is doing? or who rook even is? idk.) i didnt like the introduction much either. the shepard treatment didnt work for me here, just believing that rook is fit for the job because varric says so wasn't enough for me. rook also has barely anything going on for them either besides of being the relentless "good guy". we never see them doubt themselves or be fearful or be mean. all the dialogue options are the same as well. its.... boring. anyway i dont wanna bash on rook, i know i'll end up liking them more later. the headcanons will be headcanoning<3

companions: i... don't have strong feelings about most of them? all of them got to me sooner or later, made me cry. but afterwards im still 🤷‍♀️ about most. i didnt feel like we get to know them as deeply as we get to know companions in the previous games. i really really missed sitting in the lighthouse for hours and talk to them, ask them about their profession or what they are about outside of cutscenes like in the previous ones. i think that would have helped me click with them faster. i didnt find all companion quests very strong either. the "high stakes" of the main story made some conflicts feel a bit like we can just fix that after the story lol. i did not like the mass effect 2 treatment of them much... (but me2 is overrated anyway sshh dont kill me<3) some companion quests i did find interesting lore wise (bellara, harding) even if i wish that some of them would have went a bit deeper there. anyway i know i'll probably end up loving them all after a couple of playthroughs, this almost always happens to me, dai is the best example.

combat: don't care. this isn't my type of combat, i don't play a lot of super actiony combo dodge dodge block combat games. still hate the limited abilities. at least it didn't feel too clunky on mouse and keyboard and it was "fun enough" to me so thats good

puzzles: i could put them into the bad category but at least they weren't too terrible so i don't want to be too harsh. but i don't enjoy doing them. i dont want to search for a crystal in a bush. i mean i did them all but at what cost. this felt like filler i thought they wanted to avoid by not adding fetch quests???

bad

pacing: this games hardest battle imo. the pacing of the game is... strange. act 1 is way too fast. it feels like we're running and have absolutely no time for anything. (makes sense! didnt work well though). act 2 then drags a bit with all the companion quests, and the mix really drags the progression of the romances as well to a ridiculous degree. at least with lucanis, idk how it is with the others. i love him and i can headcanon to fill in the blanks so i liked his romance, but it does make it seem like nothing is happening for 50 hours for everyone who doesnt like to headcanon around. anyway, the pacing/storytelling felt often not fitting. it was trying to be mass effect in a story that is too complex and the lore too rich to run through it. this felt like the main reason why we just never went very deep into the lore of the factions or new npcs, or learn or see certain things, the complex nature of the crows, or tevinter magisters and their slaves, we are just running all the damn time? we never get to explore certain things that would feel unnatural to come up in a conversation or in some other way because we are limited by the things the story "has time for". or what the devs had time for.

wishy washy writing: not everywhere but in some places and im not used to that in a da game so its a bit baffling. "the blight is different now so thats the reason for x trust me bro" ok....? "the first of my people do not die so easily" = mythal is shattered and lives on, makes sense. but the other evanuris are all dead, even the ones that were "dead" already? why? idk........ i shall stay delusional for now and hope i've missed something in my completionist run that i now in my next run will find somewhere lol. besides of that, the tone and language used by rook and companions is strangely unfitting as well. coloquial words like "it's cool" are frequently used, among other things. it stands in contrast to the writing of the previous games and is often immersion breaking.

limited worldstate: i had hoped they at least commit to it when i heard about this. but then adding little references that could have just been made personal by switching one line just made the reference a bit jarring sometimes instead of exciting. or making morrigan eat mythals memories for the regret quest....really? this could have been the well of sorrows choice, why could they not have just made the inquisitor show up in the crossroads if they were the one that drank from it. this whole choice thing + some other problems ended up feeling like something they didnt really want to do but ended up doing because the game was in development for so long they just had to finally fucking finish it. and it sucks for us.

the veil: why... is it still there? they left breadcrumps of clues throughout the entire series about all the positives it would do if it was gone, even add a damn prophecy, and then just dont do it.... ever perhaps? must the blight really be cured for this? demons forever feared? listen im just glad solas is ok at the end of the day but he could still have had his redemption/healing/forgiving himself moment after destroying it imo.

i wish the inquisitor was more involved in everything :((( the moments we did get made me SO happy but. yeah.

no quicksave and the skip button that ruined my screenshots deserve their own bullet point what the hell

anyway enough yapping!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! overall i loved the game because the stuff i cared about the most was the best aspects of the game sdkjhsdjkf im not ashamed to admit that this is my new solas 2.0 game. ..... <3

[kordyceps]

OK I mean obviously I'm reading your steter stuff on AO3 but I'd love to know if you have an all time favourite? Either your fave of your own work, or fave of another author's that you rec/reread/still think about a million years later (or both lol)

Oh man, okay, sorry for taking so long to reply to this ask! But it's such a good one and I unfortunately have the memory of a gold fish, so I needed to do Research™ (aka reread all my favs again lmao) so I could answer it properly. 😂

I only have one Steter fic of my own atm, so I guess that's my de facto personal fav for now…

But as for other folks' work, god, there are sooooo many great Steter fics out there!! So these are just a handful of my top favs, and definitely not a comprehensive list!

Five Times Peter and Stiles Troll the Pack by taylorpotato Rating: M | 2.5k | requires an AO3 account to read Stiles and Peter yell at each other in Polish, misleading the pack into think they're fighting, when in reality it's all just like completely fuckin' filthy dirty talk lmao. Short, but very funny, and such a perfect capture of their mischievous dynamic. 10/10, would recommend!

The Devil You Know by Twisted_Mind Rating: E | 11.6k Peter is there for Stiles when no one else is, and uses that to slowly manipulate his way into earning Stiles' explicit trust. And ooooh boy, is it so delicious and spicy. God damn! Cards on the table: this fic definitely won't be for everyone since it wades into some darker waters. But oh my god do I love love LOVE Peter's characterization in it. God, I feel like I could write a whole damn essay about this fic, but then I'd just end up spoiling the whole thing LOL. Just--if you like darker, manipulative Peter and enjoy your sweetness just a wee bit twisted, then 10/10 would recommend!

The Prince and the Pease by luulapants Rating: E | 47k | requires an AO3 account to read Medieval/Royalty AU where Peter is forced to cede his claim to the throne and become a "guest" of King Deucalion's as part of a peace treaty between the two kingdoms. Stiles, who is suspiciously far too mouthy for your average servant, is gifted to Peter as a bedwarmer. This one does such an incredible, masterful job at translating the characters into its setting and time period. The sass, the wit, the wordplay! You can definitely tell the author knows their shit, and my god is it fantastic. The plot itself is also so satisfying -- lots of great ups and downs, and, ugh, just so good! (Be sure to read p2 for the full ending btw!) Needless to say, 10/10, would recommend!

Keeping him (It's all about intent) by sittinginmytincan Rating: M (& E for oneshot sequel) | 121k Stiles winds up slingshotted into his own future, where it turns out he's married to Peter Hale of all people. His only way back is with Lydia's help, but she's gone mysteriously missing somewhere on the east coast while investigating some strange disappearances. Man, this fic….. I feel like the writer for this one must have received a checklist of things I'm into and decided to mark nearly every single one of them lol. Time travel, woke up married, magical theory, an enthralling af plotline -- and it's so thorough. Like, everything is so incredibly well thought out, the characterization is on point, and the development of Stiles and Peter's relationship is just chef kiss. Definitely 10/10, would recommend!

The Striking Complication by aurevell Rating: T | 118k I don't even want to write a summary up for this one because the mystery of it all and peeling back what's happening piece by piece is, imo, the best way to experience it. This story is intense as fuck, near relentlessly oppressive, and impossible to put down. It keeps you constantly at the edge of your seat as you try to figure out what is going on and how Peter and Stiles will survive it, with these heart-wrenchingly sweet breather moments sprinkled throughout. If you enjoy time loop stories, this one is an absolute must read! 10/10, would recommend!

build-a-beau by veterization Rating: E | 41.5k Tired of his dad always worrying about him being single, Stiles decides to pay for a fake boyfriend service so he can finally get his pops off his back about it. It goes about as well as one can expect a fake texting boyfriend you accidentally catch real feelings for can go lmao. This fic is wonderfully witty, with really fantastic banter between the two of them, and it's just so very fun getting to watch the pretend part of their exchanges slip more and more into something genuine. 10/10, would recommend!

Under the Songbird's Wing by mia6363 Raing: E | 87k Stiles is captured and held in captivity alongside Peter, Deucalion, and Satomi Ito. To survive, Stiles runs through lacrosse drills and tells stories, eventually persuading his fellow cellmates out of their shells and establishing a profound, unbreakable bond between them. This one is HEAVY, folks. Like, heavy heavy. But, god, it's also such a beautiful exploration of the characters and the bonds they develop through shared captivity. I don't even know what more to say, really, it's just haunting and lovely and awful and wonderful all at once. In the mood for something that hurts? Then 10/10, would recommend!

[rmd-writes]

a love note (and some fics)

Sometimes I wonder if there's really anything bigger out there - the universe, some kind of higher power, fate - and then I think about how extremely lucky I am that I became obsessed with a certain tv show and its characters at just the right time so that I could befriend someone who then introduced me to a particular book at exactly the right time to fall in love with those characters as well. And then, because of my need to have more of those characters, I went looking for more stories about them at exactly the right time to meet a group of people (some of them together, some of them later, but that doesn't matter) who would go on to become my friends.

There must be something, right? To bring together a group of people who live in five to seven different time zones depending on the time of year. To create my safest spaces on the internet. To share not just our love for a book and its characters, but parts of our lives with each other. To have them all wedge themselves into the soft spaces of my heart and never leave.

I've been thinking about this a lot over the last two weeks, because those people conspired and collaborated to gift me a collection of 10 incredible fics for a milestone birthday (tomorrow!) - even though some of them haven't written fic for months and months, or don't write for this fandom at all anymore, or have recently been finding it hard to make words work and finish fics, or are just plain busy with other projects and life. That they took the time to find and make words for me means everything and more 💖💖

I've been absolutely overwhelmed with love these past 10 days (probably to the surprise of no one, I have cried at every single fic drop and I'm crying writing this now). So, I want to share the wonderful fics that they've written for me with you all because it's the least I can do to pay it forward and they're objectively stellar fics. If you haven't come across them already then you should definitely add them to your to read lists/open tabs/MFL. Please show my friends some love and read their work.

The Rae of Sunshine! collection, in order of publication (with my very short summaries):

Take It Back (4.2K) by @three-drink-amy

Henry is the head chef at a French restaurant and there's one patron who keeps sending his dishes back. How can they resolve this?

Dick, Dick Dick (You Down) (10.2K) by @everwitch-magiks

Alex runs the craft services trailer on the set of actor!Henry's latest movie. Is he the only person who sees behind the façade?

A deceptively soft story, given the title.

Precious Love (1.3K) by floatingaway4

The fluffiest follow up to one of my favourite AUs Amigos y Migas (aka the food truck au).

Midnight ice cream (5.8K) by @the-amber-fox

Emotional support Cornettos? More likely than you think.

Make it Right (5.3K) by @three-drink-amy (that's right, Ally wrote me TWO FICS)

A rogue little Tarlos fic in amongst the firstprince - a post-season 1 canon divergence that sees TK working in a taco truck while he finds his feet.

a taste of life (7.4K) by @indomitable-love

A journey through Henry's life, told through food. (This one is not my summary, indomitablelove already summed it up perfectly)

Risotto + Melanzane + Dolce (a love story) (16.8K) by @villiageidiot

Alex starts working at an Italian restaurant and is terrible at his job. Somehow, Henry doesn't seem to mind.

Cursed is a State of Mind (WIP) by @welcometololaland & @dustratcentral

A 5 + 1 treatise on cursed coffee consumption.

12 Year Starter (6.6K) by @clottedcreamfudge

When Pez can't make it to Henry's Michelin-star birthday dinner, he arranges for Henry's friend, Alex, to take his place. Featuring CCF's signature banter and fun, and a menu that I wish was real.

Pour Your He(art) Out (WIP) by @athousandrooms

A 5+1 ode to latte art (featuring actual art!)

You can find the entire collection here on Ao3.

[laniusbignaturals]

Please more modern Edward!

I’ll assume this is the same person who asked for titplay headcanons, so this will be NSFT. There’s also violence and grotesque toxicity. Be wary of that.

Absolutely disgusting first one but whatever - his nose is huge, and he likes to bare knucklebox, so naturally it’s been dislocated several times. Often he will just snap the bone back into place with his knuckles. This sounds cool on paper, but it doesn’t do anything to alter the ridiculous, nasally, congested tone that develops in his voice every time he sustains this injury, so. Cringe!

Edward doesn’t have as many tattoos in this universe, but he does have a branding on his arm from his time spent in a fraternity in college. He used a frozen brand, because he’s scared of fire. (I know.)

Joshua would love to strangle him but his neck is really thick and Joshua’s hands aren’t that big, so he can never do it as effectively as he would like to. This frustration increases the thrill for both of them, tbh.

Edward likes short bitches because he is a short bitch because he looks bigger standing next to them and they’re often just as pissy, spiteful and tense as he is.

As I’ve referenced in the past, Edward has done coke, but he’s not as big of a speedfreak/accelerant lover as you might assume of a man like him. Edward, constitutionally, is hardly ever calm, content or relaxed. Alcohol might soothe that need for others, but Edward severely dislikes the way heavy drinking debilitates his control over himself, so he doesn’t do it unless he’s desperate. Other depressants, like Xanax, Oxy and Neuroleptics have been known to work well on him. But these trips bring him dangerously close to like, meaningfully doubting himself. So he doesn’t do them often, and always acts like he’s forgotten their contents completely once they’re over.

On that note: Edward forgets a lot of stuff. It’s his superpower. It’s cus he’s a gaslighter, it’s cus he grew up without a sense of objective truth, it’s cus he saw a lot of things that small children can’t comprehend and learned how to stop accepting reality on command to stave off an immediate breakdown. It just sort of comes naturally to him, so much so that he’s confident this is human nature. And he’s sure as shit not gonna let objective fact get in the way of that judgement anytime soon.

Edward worked enough Real Jobs that he could always live comfortably before solidifying a corrupt position of power. By the time he’s in his late 50s/early 60s, they’ve really stacked up. He’s been an editor, a foreman, a bail bondsmen, a landlord, a professor (for court mandated community service hours,) a chef, and pretty much every other profession that’s easier if you’re a complete jackass. The long term affect of this Jack-Of-All-Trades lifestyle is that he doesn’t have shared life experience with most other people. This helps him isolate himself more comfortably.

Joshua once watched Edward slice up someone’s throat with a pair of garden shears. Afterwards, they went out to eat and Edward got him to break some Mormon food rules. It was a cute date.

Joshua’s got a big family, and he was fond of most of them. Edward might have an extended family, but if he does, he is rejecting them like a bad limb transplant. He actively does not want to know if he’s got any living half siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, or cousins. He doesn’t even talk to his old high school friends. He will be an only child till the grave.

This is not an original thought, but he’s a beer guy. He’s that beer guy. The one who uses it as a part of his personality the way toxic white girls do iced coffee. Not only that it’s a weird sadomasochistic performance of gender, but also that he uses its purveyance and consumption as an expression of intimacy and camaraderie. Asking if you want a beer is Edward’s idea of affection.

Another thing Edward does for people he thinks he cares about is protect their ego. He will take your side when you’re obviously wrong and buy you a new blouse when you ruin yours and roll up all the windows in the car when you’re having a meltdown in the passenger seat. This behavior exists alongside intense possessiveness and sporadic cruelty because of course it does. Edward is sweet as antifreeze. The state of possession and the loss of autonomy is the only dynamic he believes to be worth maintaining, and even then, it’s more about the attempt than ever being fully successful. To receive his love is sickening.

Joshua has torn the buttons on Edward’s shirt to lick rivulets of wine off his breasts and pistol whipped him before jerking off on his bloody face and ashed cigarettes on him mid-fuck and called him every filthy degrading name in the book and Edward still identifies as the dominant between them. He is clinging to that pitcher’s mound like a ship in a storm.

He doesn’t believe in god, but there is room in his mind for hell. Deep down, he craves it. The grandiosity, the submission, the finality. Joshua likes this about him.

Have you ever broken into a house or apartment while the owner was at home? Edward has. It used to be for the purpose of stealing, but he didn’t give up the practice when he became economically stable. The truth is that he enjoys it. He enjoys busting in doors and breaking windows and hearing wives and daughters scream and making people feel scared & helpless in a place they thought was safe. This is such a brazen maladaptive recreation of his own trauma that he’ll sometimes find himself having uncomfortable emotions while doing it, so it’s an occasional occurrence. But still.

He had the most control over his body in his early and mid twenties, so during that era he had a quiet exhibition fetish. He’d get into bars, gyms, classrooms, bathhouses and libraries after hours with whoever he was fucking that month & get totally naked, savoring the fantasy of being seen and admired by dozens of eyes. His idea of beauty is an empty room. (No this doesn’t indicate anything about him what are you talking about.)

[thepumpkincorsair]

So, I watched the first episode of “Those About To Die” on Peacock.

I enjoyed it, and Im willing to do write ups if folks would be interested…

Since I wana talk about details, and I dont wana spread spoilers, everything is below the readmore.

What I liked: 🔵 And what I disliked: 🟠

Total Ranking: 8/10 - very good, worth the watch 👍

🟠 It dove into the Intrigue right away, which made it hard to watch while doing other things, but I can appreciate a show that grabs you by the shoulders and shoves you down into the couch to pay attention.

🔵 It wasn’t boring, quite the contrary, I felt fully engaged throughout the episode. Theres a lot of small moving parts to the story, and it orchestrates together incredibly well so far, even for Episode One. The writing is very well done, which is a lynchpin for me on a show like this. You cant pretend to be an intrigue type series without a proper plot. And, in my opinion, they’ve set their plots well right away. Tenax getting those shares in Blue was a great con, which had clearly been going a while, but we only saw the tail end of it. I see this little setup as a great look at how the writers DO their work. Connections matter, money does more than talk, and if you play the game wrong, you die. Don’t trust anyone.

🔵 I REALLY enjoyed the historical aspects of the first episode. Like, yes, this plot happened, its a historical fiction and a number of these characters exist in history, but its not just that. Its the small details, the different knives in different cultures, the veterinary care of race horses, the deities from more than just the main roman pantheon, the drinkware, the VARIOUS clothes from various cultures and climates…. And yes, women often went topless when they were a sxwrkr. Gotta advert.

🔵 ON THAT SUBJECT: can we talk about “3 sesterce… and Im tighter than both of them.” MY BOY, YOU ARE RIZZIN TOO HARD AND I LOST IT. Please, please let him be in future episodes. Omfg….

🟠 I am forced to concede the accuracy isnt PERFECT, the horses wore modern driving bridles to go with their ancient styled chariots. However, Im realistic about how many horses are trained today to pull anything without blinders, and how much safer modern bridles are. I’ll also note: I absolutely saw the animal handler grab the horse differently (calmly) before the riot surrounded it, then direct the horse to dance in the crowd. Great training with the horse! Bad camera angle. Lol

🔵 I also really like this cast so far. Everyone fills their roles incredibly well.

Hopkins doesnt even need an introduction, the mans a legend and brings all his experience to the stage with him every time. -chefs kiss-

Rheon was great in GOT, he plays calculatingly unhinged exceptionally well. But I wont lie, seeing him in a more commanding, level headedly calculating person?

Hashim….. HASHIM!!! Im SO excited to see where his character goes. We haven’t seen much of him in Ep 1 just yet, but he’s clearly going to be one of the main players. Im not familiar with him as an actor, but I’ve enjoyed his performance so far, and I REALLY appreciate the story being told.

Martins is also incredible. She does a fantastic job of knowing the danger her characters children are facing, but also knowing she HAS to play her cards right to save them. She personifies the strength and determination of a mother perfectly.

🔵 Quite honestly, I have to give points to that whole plot-line in general. That point of view is something we’ve had hidden from us (in America) for so long, that I think a LOT of people have… become calloused. I hope seeing it will potentially help others come to an empathetic understanding. This isn’t glossing over what happened, or whats likely to happen to any of the three children.

🔵 I also want to gush over actually SHOWING the wider Roman Empire, we get to see the direct effect of their influence in both Africa and Spain so far. Egypt was their bread basket, and without that grain, youve got problems. The Berber Coast has animals, and people they want, and we see money exchanging hands for the purpose of those ends. We see how the locals were told they’d be treated fairly, paid properly, and even eventually become citizens, like the Spaniards, only to have those promises thrown aside as soon as the Romans have better money to make. These people gave the Empire everything it wanted, but the Empire is never satisfied.

We also get to appreciate how far west the empire went when the Spaniards are trying to sell their horses. (Plot-bunny: Andies are dancing horses, exceptionally athletic, and a prime choice for chariots, though, a standardbred is the usual choice for modern cart racers)

🟠 I will say the CGI isnt the best. You can tell exactly when they change from live action to CGI. But this is a minor issue for me tbh. Its passable CGI, and they use it to avoid putting animals or people in danger which, obviously, I appreciate. A chariot wreck was shown, annnnnd it was pretty darn accurate to how messy those would have been. Not good times y’all. Not good times. Also, the ramifications of a major concussion. Oof. At least the guy would have barely knew what was happening? Still.

🔵 The sound effects were enough without being over the top. Often times when theres gore to show, theres all these extra squelching noises and gratuitous blood… not this time. It’s actually… pretty durn accurate. Don’t ask how I know. I don’t wana tell you, and you dont wana know.

Overall, it was a really solid first episode, and I plan on watching the rest.

[cauqhtz]

My opinion about Luffy and the world of one piece.

What does Luffy or One Piece in general mean to you?

I'll start! This is completely my opinion and my personal feelings!

I should start off my saying I am a hard person to please. I'm extremely "picky" with every aspect of my life. For example: I hate it when my food touches, even when I'm eating it. I eat it in order. there are exceptions though. I do like for my collard greens and rice to touch but only if I put them together. I still plate them separately.

It's ridiculous and sooo annoying but its a serious thing for me. It's like trying to swallow a pill. I physically cannot force myself to swallow anything that dont fit those standards.

It's like this for every aspect of my life. Books, movies, JOBS, tv shoes, etc..

the first time I tried watching one piece i turned it off maybe not even a minute after watching the first half of the first episode. I remember seeing nami at a party and her looking out to see the whirlpool and I got the wrong idea about what the anime was about so i swore off it.

Maybe a year later I saw a instagram post. It was basically saying how they didnt understand how they found a pirate story about some kid made of rubber kicking everyone's asses entertaining. I was in disbelief and kind of took it as a challenge. It sounded absolutely ridiculous to me at the time so I gave it another shot.

As soon as Luffy popped out of that barrel knocking one of those guys out saying he'd catch a cold for sleeping right there? I was laughing. ME? LAUGHING? To say I was sold would be an understatement.

Then theres the part where Luffy expresses his dream to be king. It wasnt because of some overused reason like very other anime like childhood trauma. It was because he wanted to. Thats it and thats all. I was blown away. My heart raced with excitement after that speech from luffy and I binged watched the episodes from then on.

I was obsessed. (Still obsessed) Back then I was still in highschool and I was binging the episodes from the moment I woke up, during all my classes and lunch, after school and falling asleep to it.

I think the only anime I binged like that would be HXH another anime I'm still obsessed with.

One of the funniest episodes of one piece for me is 497. I was rewatching the marine ford arc and I was in tears laughing at this episode.

But back to the question!

As a young woman of color? Luffy is a dream to me. Luffy is the perfect mixture of malcom x and MLK. He's what I think the world needs. He's one of a damn kind, there is NO character like him or story like one piece PERIOD and there's no amount of hate from naruto fans that'll make that less true.

The only character that is unafraid of crying, laughing, fucking up, tripping up in front of friends and enemies alike.

insanely selfish but he's strong. He can have his friends, hell he can make new friends and have them ALL by his side or far away from him. All alive and fucking thriving, why? because he fucking said so. He's strong in more ways than one. He has that luxury.

He's unafraid of asking for help. He has never once acted as though everyone else is beneath him and he can do everything by himself.

Gets pissed when he finds his vest with flowers sewed into it, wanting to be a manly man but unbothered at eating all the love themed food sanji makes specifically for nami and robin.

He has asked forced Pirate Hunter Zoro to join his crew? Nah thats just zoro his best friend and the guy who ate stomped out sand covered chocolate rice balls out of respect for the little girl he saved from Helmeppo.

Cat burglar nami? Nami the navigator. Her maps and weather skills are unreal!

Sniper king the liar? Yup but he's a damn good sharpshooter.

Black Leg/ Vinsmoke Sanji isnt he apart of a family of comicbook villians? Thats just Sanji! One of the best chefs in the world!

Tony Tony Chopper the raccoon dog that happens to be a doctor? Oh no thats chopper. Our crews miracle treasure. He's a talking reindeer monster.

The demon child is on your crew? Huh? Demon child? You can't mean robin! She's a good friend of mine and she's an archeologist! I'd have to kick your ass if you think otherwise! :D

Cyborg Franky? Oh yeah I couldnt take the sunny without him! They're a package deal!

The humming swordsman? Oh you mean brook! He's a talking, singing afro skeleton not to mention hilarious! The part about him being a sword-swinging musician was just a plus!

The first son of the sea jinbei...A fishman? Hell yeah! He's THE fishman! Jinbei is a good friend of mine and the 10th member I've been looking for!

Luffy's crew is a dumpster fire of diversity. That right there is rare within itself. I mean it's a Japanese show, yet most of the main characters aren't japanese! They originate from a little bit of everywhere across the globe!

They all look different and act different. They are all flawed and yet Luffy accepts them with open fucking arms with his TRADEMARKED grin nearly splitting his face in half!

Speaking of accepting them! Luffy is always overjoyed when reuniting with his crew. Jumping to give them hugs, screaming his hellos, jumping up and down, lunging forward to give them hugs, and waving with excitement at the sight of his friends.

I mean Luffy is unfucking matched. Even his voice is one of a kind and so fucking satisfying for his dialogue??

Two of my favorite quotes from Luffy are:

"I'm kicking your ass and wrecking your birdcage."

"Speak up for yourself, aren't you the leader of these guys? SAY SOMETHING ALREADY!"

Luffy's very name holds mind-melting weight.

I just recently found out that his brother ace was the one that came up with "Gum gum Rocket." Something I'm now pissed at OPLA for giving Garp the credit of.

Luffy as a captain doesnt do major plans or specific orders. He says something and his crew either follows along or finds their own objective for example the punk hazard arc when law asked luffy if he was going to leave his crew on the island to do what they said they wanted to do and leave with him to fight kaido.

Luffy refused saying if his crew was staying to get their own things done then so was he and that Law had to get used to it quick.

Luffy is freedom in physical form. There one second and gone the next. Something that gave Law heart palpitations.

ALSO SCREW YOU LAW FOR TELLING CHOPPER TO SHUT UP WHEN HE TOLD YOU BYE IN WANO!

Luffy has no rhyme or reason for doing things the way he does other than the fact that thats just who he is. Something that only Zoro and Robin TRULY understand. Chopper understood this recently, just before the time-skip.

For example when big mom assumed luffy was there in wano to pick a fight with kaido and luffy denied it sternly.

confusing everyone around him including nami and carrot.

He went onto say everyone not only responsible but associated would be getting their asses kicked.

And thats EXACTLY what happened.

Zoro wasnt even there for that and he was already cutting the majority of their members in half.

MIND YOU. LUFFY AND HIS CREW DIDNT PLAN ANYTHING. NOR WERE THEY AWARE OF THAT PLAN. ALL THEY HAD WERE DISGUISES AND THEIR WITTS.

You'd think that with every plan luffy screws up they'd be major consequences? NOPE bc he's stronger than that. Everyone else would have to adapt or get their asses kicked.

jinbei fought with luffy in the fishman island arc. not wanting luffy to make matters worse, instead wanting him to be seen as a hero to which luffy refused saying he's not a hero and that he had to get to his friends... until jinbei said and i quote. "Luffy, I'll let you have all the meat you want! Just do as I say!"

To which luffy agreed after a few more pleas.

friends and enemies are one in the same to him.

You want to hit him? Fine he doesnt care. but Lie to him? He's about to shove his foot up your ass.

You want to take credit for his wins unless your law or kid? Hell yeah! Couldn't have done it without you!

You want to defend him? Dont bother. This is his business. Stay the hell out of it.

You want to cry? Suck it up! Crying wont fix anything so get the fuck up and do something about it already!

You want to ask him for help? Sure! Anything! As long as you're the right person asking!

You want to call him a hero? Literally might knock your lights out.

You want to put him down in history and tell everyone what he and his crew did? Don't bother he's not interested.

I mean the list goes on and on. I can talk about luffy and one piece for HOURS and never get bored.

Luffy is a dream to me. I tear up thinking about him and wishing to be apart of that world for even a day.

Thats what Luffy means to me.

[cheesus-doodles]

Since I rarely saw (y/n) being an executive alongside Hanma and Kisaki, here I go with platonic Hanma, (y/n), Kisaki trio. Those two spoil you when you are very much capable of buying your own things, probably teased you for being single when those two ARE THE REASON WHY YOU'RE SINGLE, won't date you but won't allow anyone to touch you either. You're probably hated by the girls Hanma and Kisaki surrounded themselves with tho.

IM FEELING SOME HCs SO HAVE SOME ANON - these takes place in the future between the Bloody Halloween arc and the Black Dragon arc

Masterlist

‎

Toman Executive Reader + Yan BFF Hanma & Kisaki HCs

Yandere Platonic Hanma & Kisaki

how you managed to befriend these two delinquents of all people is a different matter, but needless to say once they were fixed on you, they don't ever leave again

if you already had another job, too bad, you don't anymore - Hanma and Kisaki would have pulled out all stops to get you out from there, even if it meant burning the entire company down

these two (mostly Kisaki) definitely only agreed to you being a Toman executive alongside them because it would be so much easier to keep an eye on you

none of the other Toman executives understand why you are even an executive to begin with, as you’ve never been a formal part of Toman before - you only pulled in much later on once Kisaki became Mikey's right hand man

and neither were you able to stomach the mere mention of murder, let alone any of the more more awful and gritty crimes that Toman gets up to

you're barely even present at the regular earning meetings, since your job is a very surface level job, in charge of running of their smaller shell companies, and you don't exactly bring in the big bucks for the gang

but of course no one is going to question Kisaki about it, especially not if Mikey has already agreed to it

you're still given a hefty salary despite contributing almost nothing though, courtesy of your two friends

but that doesn't matter, since they would buy everything for you

house? nope, you stay with them in their Toman penthouse for "safety reasons", and no one seems to be be willing to rent or sell to you for some reason

clothes and bags? oh whaddya know, they mistakenly bought the wrong size/fit/style/gendered clothes again and its perfectly in your size and suits you - you don't want to these extremely expensive items to go to waste do you?

food? why do you want to go out and eat when they have their own personal, vetted team of chefs who can whip anything you can think of up?

you're spoiled and pampered whether you want to be or not, because Kisaki and Hanma are incapable of seeing you as anything but that small fragile friend that they made all those years ago

and you would always be that small friend to them who couldn't even take a fall without crying, let alone throw a punch to save your life

you weren't built for this world, certainly not their dark, messed-up world, and therefore it's up to them to shelter and protect you

you brighten their bloody lives, so its no wonder that these two love to spend every minute they can with you

anything that the two don't like, such as clothes that were too skimpy for their taste or that they didn't look good on you, gifts given to you by people they didn't approve of, would evaporate the moment you turn away

and you can't get a straight answer out of them what happened - they wouldn't lie to you, but that didn't mean they wouldn't run circles around your head with what they did with your stuff

no way would you be ever able to beat either men in their game of words

if not one or both of them being at your side constantly, they have an excuse to have a full team of their most trusted security forces accompany you absolutely everywhere

cameras and microphones absolutely everywhere in your home, at your office, in your car, hidden trackers on you and your stuff

these boys can't function without knowing everything about you and what you were doing - they just simply have to know that you were still alive, you were okay, and you weren't doing anything they wouldn't approve of behind their backs

like meeting strangers, getting into trouble with other gangs, or worst of all, finding a partner

even during meetings they have updates on your whereabouts and actions constantly pinging their phone

starts getting visibly fidgety when the updates go quiet for five minutes, to the point one or both of them would stand up and leave the room to call and get a hold of you

despite being part of the literal yakuza, you still have a set of rules that you have to follow, laid down by your two friends, which included not allowing you to get your hands dirty with actual yakuza work (the irony)

good cop, bad cop kind of system I would image, though the boundaries between good and bad are kinda blurred when it comes to Hanma and Kisaki

Hanma is more often than not the good cop; a lot more relaxed when it comes to you and your rules - more than happy to turn a blind eye to anything less than serious if it met you would come running to him to hide from Kisaki

would also be the one to spoil you rotten, taking you out for shopping and partying (at private Toman clubs with selected people only of course)

whereas Kisaki would be more the bad cop more often than not, being the one that has to remind you and hold you to their rules, and dish out the punishments whenever you break them

be it smacking you on your hands to the more severe locking you in a room for a week with no contact

but Kisaki does have his soft moments and Hanma does have his tougher moments - each of them have their boundaries when it comes to you and your antiques

they don't want to have to break bones or cut flesh to get you to listen to them, but push them to far and you probably wouldn't like what they become when their need to protect you and their jealousy get out of hand

no dating is an unspoken rule for you laid down by Kisaki, especially so among the other executives, though not that you know about it

doesn't matter if its a boy, girl, or anything in between, the only people in your life should just be Hanma and Kisaki

but you're still a sight for sore eyes when you do get invited to their manager meetings, with the rest of the executives being able to breathe a bit easier and relax even in the presence of Kisaki

they know that your presence means that none of the two would be pulling any funny business

neither like to have to beat the living shit or execute someone in front of you, so that is usually kept behind close doors

they keep an eye on the few executives who they think might be more of an issue to handle if they get to you, or they think you're one charming smile away from falling for

you have tried making small talk with a few of them, only for the reaction you get being for them to simply look away and pretend you haven't said anything, to whoever it is scrambling to get away from you

friendly, smiling face at you; dirty, warning side eye when facing away at everyone else

neither Hanma nor Kisaki would touch you either - no no, they can never see you in that kind of light

and neither did you see them as potential romantic partners

so single you remain, even if its against your will - none of your dates ever seem to go right, if they even turn up

Hanma lives for excitement, so drugs and girls seem to be up his alley whenever he ventures out into the night, whereas Kisaki doesn't seem to be the sort to go out of his way to get girls, but no doubt with his position of power there will be those who want to be seen with him and maybe even catch his eyes

so no doubt you would always be crowded around by jealous girls who can't believe that of all people you're the one that seems to always have Kisaki's and Hanma's attention

they won't tolerate any sort of actual malice or slander tossed your way though, and especially not any sort of advance on you though Toman should know better

a general increase in crime can be noted on those nights that they allow you out

p.s. if you read this, thanks for reading to the end! do consider coming to join us on Discord! i'm always there and I love TR

[olderthannetfic]

Honestly I suspect a lot of the fanfic-filed-off books that get big, even when they are mundane, work because they do involve some degree of "worldbuilding" in the sense of establishing an elaborate setting. Like I haven't read Love Hypothesis, but it's about science grad students right? That likely requires a lot of explanation of how the world of grad school, science research, etc. works since your average reader is not part of that world. That's just another kind of "worldbuilding."

--

Oh yes.

It doesn't need to be fantasy for it to be worldbuilding. If you made your boy band chefs or your space wizards grad students or any sort of person in a particular milieu with its own culture and rules, a good author will establish how this world works.

It's not just literal explanation either. Sometimes, you need to know how the science works, but sometimes, all you need is to understand the general vibe of the lab and the social dynamics of coworkers. It's often more sense of place rather than rules-based worldbuilding.

A lot of people talk about how Gilmore Girls gave them a sense of place that lots of media in real-ish settings doesn't. I never watched, but it looks like an autumn-themed blog on tumblr or something. Even if your "real world" setting works in quotidian ways, there are still things to establish.

The danger is when someone is writing a super generic coffee shop AU, does not establish much about the vibe of the coffee shop, and is also now missing the part where the space wizards wanted to kill each other in canon and that added spice to the otherwise conflictless fic AU because every fic reader knew it.

There's plenty of pro media that operates like a fandom coffee shop AU, but it bothers to establish more, and it has a plot with a conflict. Think Empire Records with its overall plot about saving the record store and its ensemble with the usual grab bag of ensemble character interpersonal problems.

A person can convert fic into original and have it go great. Many people don't end up doing a very good job unless the fic already spent a lot of time establishing original things.

[harlequinoccult]

ok well w that answer to my last ramble i hope you won't mind me coming back and rambling MORE-

the thing with Ariel "Vulpine" Fox (remember i said he has a Thing w foxes? his surname might have smth to do w that) is that, at his core, he is not a character that really fits into the vibes of slsq. and i love putting my ocs into Situations where they Do Not Really Fit In, because it forces me to think outside the box and go "ok, but what if they find themselves in that Situation anyway? how do i work with that while still keeping their character mostly intact?". and the mix of slsq and Vulpine is just * chefs kiss * especially delicious to me, bc Ariel always had a few screws loose, but he's always been a bit too level-headed to really lean into his innate madness, and slsq gives me the opportunity to really fuck with him and i love that-

Ariel's whole Thing is really that he's the perfect vigilante character. he would never make the profile of a serial killer. a killer, yes, oh he has no problem with killing you see, but it's usually done with some greater objective in mind. even in slsq im sure he's going to be extremely picky with his victims. the thing that really sets him off and makes him believe Murder Is Ok is injustice. because unfortunately for him, Ari has an unparalleled amount of empathy, which causes him to make some... contradictory decisions during his life. really, it all depends on who has earned his wrath. he will never kill poor people or people in need, in fact he usually goes out of his way to help them every single time, but put a cop in front of him and they're going to have the most slow, painful, cruel death possible.

there might be exceptions to the "no killing poor ppl/ppl in need" rule tho, if the person in question is an abuser who does nothing but inflict suffering on others and poison the local community with their toxicity. funnily enough, Carter fits the profile of Ariel's victims fucking perfectly, im honestly still thinking of a reason why he didn't kill Carter sooner other than "he didn't have enough time to do it". other people he'll definitely go after is the rich and corrupt politicians, which, not the best decisions for his anonymity or his safety, but if he's gonna get killing you bet your ass he'll try to cause some form of change while at it.

another thing he hates, has always hated and always will, is abuse of authority (which is why in his mind a good cop is always a dead cop). he has a general problem w authority even without the abusing part, especially hates when he's stripped of his autonomy and forced to do smth against his will (he IMMEDIATELY hates The Host on principle, and its going to get worse from here). he's always been a brat over being ordered around, even if he HAS to do what he's being told to do he's going to do it HIS way and fuck you if you have a problem w that. what matters is that he got the job done, isnt it? (i genuinely dont know how Carter managed to put up w him, those two together is a TERRIBLE mix)

most of all this does have to do w how he grew up, really. Ari is cannonically british (by which i mean, in my head he has a rlly subtle posh british accent that gets stronger the angrier he gets, which is even funnier to me bc the angrier he gets the more he swears and it usually involves a lot of FOCK and FOCKIN' and BLOODY being thrown around. like i get why OD would enjoy riling him up i rlly do-) which doesn't rlly have that much impact into his slsq story bc im not british and ik nothing abt britain but he is an immigrant and that's a lil bit important. to me. anyway-

he grew up in a very poor, very religious community somewhere in monarchy land (england), and was an extremely difficult, some would even say demonic, child. he's always had anger issues but it was MUCH worse when he was little (growing up he learns to deal w them to the point that getting him actually, truly angry without touching on what triggers him is extremely hard. good luck OD, his reaction to your annoying ass is mostly gonna be a sigh and a twitch of his fingers). his religious trauma, unlike w OD, has nothing to do w surviving catholic school (he went to a public school, somehow managed to be a massive nerd AND a delinquent at the same time, always had the highest notes of his class and was still despised by the teachers for being "disrespectful") and more w growing up surrounded by extremely religious people and realizing quite soon that praying did nothing to help w the systematic oppression they all were being crushed by. it only got worse when he started questioning the teachings of the church, growing more frustrated as he tried to get his peers to "see reason", and finally lost all hope when he went through his second exorcism (first one happened whem he was still very small, which im sure didn't fuck him up in any way whatsoever). has never entered a church since then, still knows some prayers that were burned into his brain and he can't forget no matter how hard he tries, genuinely believes that god never existed and if he did then he's fucking dead, and has a fascination w satanic symbols to this day that will probably never go away.

he had a somewhat mixed reputation growing up. in his tween years, he used the fact that he was considered "demonic" when little to scare and fuck with people who otherwise might have caused him problems. he got into constant fights in his childhood and his teen years, both because bullies would wrongly assume he'd be an easy target and then get punched and bitten and scratched until they cried, or because he was trying to protect someone else from being bullied. soon figured out that just not engaging unless someone else threw the first punch was a good way to de-escalate situations and keep him from getting in too much trouble (since he wouldn't be the one who "started it"), which was what made him begin to develop his stoic attitude. he started learning to control his anger because the people he wanted to protect were scared of him bc of his tendency to lash out, and because he realized that being in control of his emotions meant that he would fuck up less in high stress situations and make it easier to calm the people around him as well.

he got in constant trouble w the local authorities, being continuously searched and brought into the police station for a p big list of petty crimes (vandalism, theft, underage drinking, drug use, trespassing, public indecency, etc), but noticed that he was treated much more leniently than his POC friends who did much less shit than he did. which was also when his hatred for cops solidified.

life wasn't easy on him. he did a lot of questionable shit to get by, and he knows a lot of people in the same situations as him, so his morals are extremely gray as a consequence of it. he's not going to judge you for doing a bad. everyone does what they can to survive and survival is not a noble thing. he's extremely lenient w things that most ppl find unacceptable, and has a very clear understanding in his mind that everything is situational. which is why murder can be ok, and cannibalism can be ok, and any number of horrible things humans do can be justifiable and acceptable no matter what society says.

so he's not going to judge anyone on the cast of slsq for doing the things they do if they can justify it. but i can also very clearly see him killing the ones that do it just for the sake of it. with one exception: he will never murder the one he loves.

which is why i am sooooo excited to pair him up w OD, the one that kills p much without discrimination, and watch all the loopholes he forms in his mind to try and justify to himself why he's turning a blind eye to someone killing innocent people. he might try to nudge OD into having a smidge more of a standard, but if OD threatens to leave bc of it or gets too annoyed he's dropping it in a second. who knows, maybe OD is the one who might be able to convince him to drop the good guy "act" instead. who needs morals when you have love amirite?

i wouldn't say Vulpine is a yandere (there's too much effort to make sure that he and his loved one(s) are equals in every possible way for that i think), but with the borderline unhealthy, undying, nearly desperate devotion he develops for the ppl he falls for i think it's a pretty close thing tbh. he would do anything for his lover. anything. and he expects nothing in return. he just wants them to be happy, no matter what.

anyway uuuuhh there's so much more i can say abt Vulpine, i didnt even touch on his relationship w substance abuse or when he got arrested or his family, but this is already enormous, so have some specific slsq stuff instead (all of this is p much slsq specific tbh, Ari's backstory changes a lot depending on what story i decide to put him next, but some plot beats and traumas always stay the same): his mask of choice is similar to Cold's, a blank black mask, and his weapon of choice is a hunting knife. his specialty is informant (i was very tempted to make him a jack of all trades, bc one of his main characteristics is his adaptability, but i could NEVER envision him accepting doing that much for Carter. he would rather die), as mentioned previously his personality type is going to be apathetic w a side of caustic (still dont know if that's the right name but oh well), his clothing style is punk and practical and he wore ripped jeans for this bc he didn't know what he was getting himself into and he's soooo mad he didn't wear his cargo pants instead. he's actually kinda similar to Cold when it comes to superficial personality traits (stays quiet and observant most of the time, stealth killer, has a whole thing going on w shadows and anonymity and the mask, also exudes a intimidating aura that often scares people and gives him negative charisma. another reason he's not a jack of all trades is bc he'd make for an AWFUL bait)

and when in deep romance, if OD keeps trying to annoy him, he'll just kiss them to shut them up. it might just end up encouraging that kind of behavior long therm, but it works as a short therm solution so he doesn't rlly care-

(pt 1.)

Oh there is so much I could say that would veer into major spoilers for Overdose's route and beyond.

The Caustic personality is cynical, bitter, and sarcastic. Aggressive options will be separate and compatible with every personality type (aggressive doormats have been...interesting to write. imagine the most neurotic chihuahua-)

And concerning mc and Carter....there aren't a lot of job opportunities in Newcreed that aren't y'know, soul crushing drudgery, no matter what your relationship with Carter was, it was enough to pay rent if mc lived alone, or enough to afford necessities if they lived with the bastard.

And getting into Newcreed itself, The city is rotten. Crime rate is so high and the mayor doesn't do shit, the police don't do shit and the roads are fucked, but hey, expansive public transit and rent is low as hell. A lot of people immigrate to Newcreed (Cold and Sweetheart and his family are examples of this) because its a cheap place to live and the barriers for employment are little to none.