#like I get the man is frustrated but dang!

[respectthepetty]

Feminism Pop Quiz!

Which man is correct based on his answer about the two types of women who exist?

Response A: Women who put makeup on in front of others, and women who don't.

Response B: Women we can fuck, and women we can't fuck.

Response C: I don't think questions using women's gender as a criterion have answers. No matter what I pick, it will apply to men too. Traits that befit women or men don't really exist.

If you thought Response A came from a gay man who views women as mere aesthetic beings in the world since he has no sexual interest in them and Response B came from a straight man who only sees women as sexual objects, you probably selected Response C.

And you already know that ALL men can benefit from feminism.

Actually, everyone can benefit from feminism.

Several women were involved in the shaping of this story. I can feel it.

[jacqcrisis]

Astarion contains multitudes. I love him.

[applecherry108]

Eughhh… 😬

I think I just encountered one of those middle schoolers operating at a fourth grade level that tiktok teachers have been talking about.

[chelseeebe]

we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

-

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

-

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

-

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

-

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

-

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

-

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

-

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

-

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

[punkpandapatrixk]

🏖Your Own Standards of Beauty ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

I’ve seen one too many times East Asian YouTubers, when talking about EA’s ‘rigid standards of beauty’ giving this sense of defensiveness or helplessness—because it’s culture, right? With every fibre of my mixed ancestry I loathed that particular brand of apologist behaviour.

‘Nature is busy creating absolutely unique individuals, whereas culture has invented a single mold to which all must conform. It is grotesque.’ – U.G. Krishnamurti

Up until fairly recently, I was still struggling with comprehending the thought process behind this ‘invention’ of a grotesquely small and narrow mould of beauty and conduct to which ALL East Asians must abide lest you’re a total disharmonious failure. After some long and hard rumination, frustration, accompanied by occasional bouts of repugnance, I think I finally get ‘why’.

Almost ALL people in East Asia ALL LOOK THE SAME!!! By nature!!! LMAO LMAO People can ONLY have black hair and black eyes LMAO Ahahahohohhahah I think these Asians were never ‘socialised’ to appreciate variety. Hahhh that’s so pathetic. If this really is the reason, man, it’s pathetic as fuck. Ionno tho. You think I’ve figured it out.

All I know is that East Asians must repent for all the sins they’ve committed against childhood, individuality, creativity, aaand society and Humanity itself. Yes, Humanity. Standing on the side of all genetically diverse peoples of Asia, such as the Ainus, Mongols, Uyghurs, to some extent the Zainichis, and sooo many other ‘anomalies’ who, in recent history, have been cast aside and treated poorly only because they don’t ‘fit in’ to the ideals and cultures of the main races of some purebred fucks.

For all I care, the part of East Asian culture that has birthed this infamous ‘rigid standards of beauty, and, conduct’ can go to fucking hell. If you’re the type of person who’s even the slightest bit proud—or defensive—of this you can go and fuck yourself. No one should be proud of that kind of a racist, fascist, repulsive, little bitch mindset. Are you a little bitch? I ain’t one.

I am a Supreme Bitch! Imma be myself and do whatever the fuck I want and look however I want. And if my society can’t take that? Those types of people—Asian or no Asian—can die on the wrong side of history! I. AM. MY OWN. PROTOTYPE.

perspective: Why BUSHIDO Is The Root of All Social Problems in Japan by Let’s ask Shogo

documentary: WE ARE X on YouTube (watch before it’s taken down LOL)

‘X challenged a conservative Japanese society and showed us a new way to be. They started a revolution, honestly.’

‘Be proud!! Be proud of yourself! We are!! X!!!’

deck-bottom: X(!?!) The Wheel of Fortune, Priestess of Ambition, Gold Magus (Johannes Faustus)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – A Light of Innocence in this Insanely Debased World

playlist: silly playlist for silly people with rare songs!! by Rita wild

the TYPA beauty you are – Page of Cups

You are someone who’s known for being quite childlike. It could be that you do look young, but it’s mostly your mannerism. Technically speaking, it’s just YOU being the happy pill that you are. Listen, some of you tuning into this Pile could be dark and sombre on the inside—especially if you have a significant Scorpio/Pluto about you or if you’ve had a very unhappy childhood—but the way you’re perceived on the outside is totally bright, beautifully soft and pleasant, and dang, people really be liking your aenergy when you’re in a room.

You’re the type of beauty that exudes ‘purity’ in the most innocent way, no matter how you look or dress. You could be perceived as ethereal or unreal. otherworldly in a sense that you don’t seem to fit in this dimension. Are you an alien? Are you a goddess? Are you a fairy, elf, or an anime character? People may not have the exact words to describe you but you’re INTERDIMENSIONAL is what’s going on.

It isn’t just your physical beauty or the attractive way that you smile. People may not realise this themselves either but what’s truly beautiful about you is this VIBE or AURA that you generate from having a vastly pure heart. No, no, not pure in the sense that you never think sexy thoughts, what? Pure in the sense that you really operate from your Higher Heart and has very little ego driving your ambitions in Life~^_☆-v

effects on the world around you – Ace of Cups Rx

Basically, you just love beautiful things. You always look for beautiful things. And you make an effort to surround yourself with things you find beautiful in your own standards. And in a way, you’re also the kind of person who sees beauty in everything and everybody. You’re the type of person who sees Light even in a narc’s darkest corners of their blackened heart (if they had one), which is really such a beautiful thing but could also prove DANGEROUS!

It’s wonderful to have childlike wonder but it ain’t cool whatsoever to be childish enough not to acknowledge the presence of evil fucks. Bad people exist, OK? Very predatory and murderous people exist, OK? And it’s a spectrum. And you’ve been such an easy target for those on the milder spectrum of psychopathy! Babe! OMG You’re often drained of good aenergy after catering to the stupid whims of very narcissistic, histrionic, pathetic, selfish and whiney fucks.

STOP THAT. Of all the Piles, you’re the type of soft beauty who’s often underestimated and taken for granted just because you’re always so positive. If not ‘positive’ per se, you’re perceived as ‘strong’, so those types of people don’t even feel shame for constantly taking and demanding your aenergy. Keep allowing that long enough and your physical beauty could be drained out of you by the time your First Saturn Return jaywalks along and smacks you in the head.

keep being you, Glorious One – 6 of Swords Rx

Truly, you’re a silly angel who holds the power to absorb other people’s pain and gloomy feelings. But if this is your main pile, thing is, you might not have learnt how to release or transmute the negativity you’ve absorbed from your surroundings. It is paramount that you learn to call upon divine protection so that you’re shielded from the Evil Eye of those who are envious of your beauty and feel silly in your purity. Your Spirit Guides aren’t saying that you should stop being innocent, right?

A Soul like you is very rare in this perverted world. Some people might say, ‘They don’t make people like you anymore…’ WRONG. You’re the catalyst, if anything. By your example, there’s gonna be MORE people who are gonna be comfortable in their purity. Knowing that there’s nothing wrong with them for being this way. Fully comprehending that it is this world that’s gone too insane, and DEBASED. And this world has been this way for far longer than people realise. I mean, I’m sure you’re aware of how inhumane most people were in the medieval times LOL

Keep being the innocent and pure you, Glorious One. What you’re being advised to do is learn to set healthy boundaries from which you can still shine your Light safely. I’m being told that many of you choosing this Pile, due to your heightened sense of aesthetic, might want to have a social media presence or any kind of public platform where you’re free to share bits and pieces of your beautiful Life as a form of your Lightwork. Some kind of a lifestyle influencer?

I’m thinking of channels and blogs that typically share aesthetic daily vlogs and stuff like that—like nemui atelier on YouTube. You know what I mean; I don’t know what I mean XD

YOUR BEAUTY KILLS🔻💙

story of your evolution – Priestess of Prosperity

a legacy of authenticity – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – An Unexpectedly Romantic Dreamer of Luxury

playlist: songs like 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 (MITSKI) by song with love

the TYPA beauty you are – 2 of Cups

Ah~! You are such a dreamy and romantic beauty! You’re soft, elegant, sweet and lovely, with a kicking spice for those who would get on your bad side LMAO You’re actually a lot tougher than appearances give but most people don’t always get this until they’ve gotten to know you. For the most part, at first glance, at first encounter, you’re a sweet goddess, who probably gets projected on a lot.

You really have an unassuming quality about you. So then, people think there’s not much going on within and think it’s easy to typecast you into something, with some simplistic label. People think it’s easy to figure you out and classify you into some kind of a dream girl who’s always going to be nice, warm and friendly with everybody. You’re not. You’re a totally self-respecting babe. Actually, you really hate it when people act like they know you.

When people act like they’re close, buddy-buddy with you, it’s super annoying and depending on your mood that day, you could sometimes feel this urge to break people’s faces. But you don’t do that; you’re too nice. And you’ve got a plethora of coping mechanisms to deal with how annoyed you are with your surrounding XD Good for you!

effects on the world around you – 5 of Swords Rx

First of all, I think many of you tapping into this Pile love shopping. Retail is definitely your therapy. Is this good? Is this bad? Depends, I guess. You tend to spend money gregariously or consume a lot of food, or buy a lot of aesthetic knickknacks, or buy a lot of arts and craft as a means of therapy. Deep down, you’re somebody who has a lot of anger or a general sense of dissatisfaction with the world you’re a part of and this rage, almost, needs to be channelled creatively.

There’s a perpetual sense of disgust inside of you. You’re keen to observe and notice how much Humanity is failing. Everything that is ugly about society and people in general disgusts you. That’s why it’s important for you to live in beauty or indulge in creativity. That’s why it is paramount that your immediate surrounding, that your own Life, within what you’re able to control, is beautified to the max. You could be quite desperate in this pursuit because this is some kind of an overcompensation for the beauty and creativity that you feel is lacking in the world.

Your aenergy is kinda reminding me of this quote by the iconic Edie Sedgwick when describing why she dressed up the way she did:

‘When I was girl of the year and superstar and all that crap, everything I did was really…motivated by psychological disturbance. But I’d make a mask out of my face because I didn’t realize I was quite beautiful…I had to wear heavy black eyelashes like bat wings and dark lines under my eyes. Cut all of my hair off and strip it silver and blond. All these little manoeuvres I did out of things that were happening in my life that upset me. I’d freak out in a very physical way, and…it was all taken in a fashion trend.’

In fact, I think all of her famous words here could resonate with you. You are what trend-setters and superstars are made of, that much of your effect on the world is certain~

keep being you, Glorious One – Queen of Pentacles

Really, that’s all dandy as long as you can make a living out of your pursuit of beauty and creativity. This about you is really something that you can utilise as a means of therapy, self-care and self-improvement because you really are an artist, one way or another. It would be wonderful if you could monetise your beauty and creativity in some trendy way.

If you feel that you’re not particularly good at any kind of ‘real’ art, then you can ‘serve face’ to help other people sell their shit. You don’t think this is smart enough? Muses are often people who don’t do art—rather they inspire Art in the minds and hearts of other artists. Truly, you are an artist; but those of you tuning into this Pile who feel like you’re not one…you are potentially someone’s Muse.

Luxury is yours for the taking. But a lot of people in this world pursue luxury and some form of fame for vapid reasons and that often makes people very unhappy. Your Spirit Guides are saying that you do have a talent for balancing modern money-making and self-care. I think what they mean to say is that, you can be the prototype for how people can be completely and uniquely offbeat whilst still maintaining a good work-life balance.

After all, you do remember how much people like to project on you, right? Well, use them to make Life a lot easier! XD After all, it’s not like their projection and labelling would be useful any other way LOL🐙

YOUR BEAUTY KILLS🔻💜

story of your evolution – Priestess of Luxury

a legacy of authenticity – Green Historian (Herodotus)

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – A Ghostly Bitch Witch Who’s Quite Literally a Fucken Sigma

playlist: Everything Is Still Under Control by Mabisyo

the TYPA beauty you are – Queen of Wands Rx

You, are, by nature, magical. You’re incredibly magnetic and this ain’t even something you’ve needed to work on; it all comes naturally. If anything, it seems you’ve needed to learn the very hard way how to shield yourself from aenergy vampires. You’ve needed to work on your boundary. This is because it took you such a long time to realise most everybody around you was nothing but anklebiters. These were people who just wanted to be seen orbiting you because doing so would elevate their status or image.

Whether or not you’re aware of it, you’re quite literally thee IT girl. You’re also THAT girl, because a lot of what you do and just who you are is very aspirational. Well of course aspirational to the motivated ones; to the weak, lame-ass ones? Almost everything about you is irritating. And most people are really lame, don’t we all agree on this? So you may have felt like you’re really quite an unlikeable character. WRONG. Dead wrong. It’s not you; it’s your lame-ass environment.

You’re a Queen of Passion who’s been living in peasant quarters, figuratively speaking. You’ve been surrounded by misers who don’t even understand why it’s deeply important for them to raise their own standards of authenticity. Thing is, they can’t afford to be authentic. It’s probably not entirely their fault—after all, peasants are highly dependent on thee System. Not you. You’re the menacingly magnetic bitch witch of a system buster!

effects on the world around you – 8 of Cups

As much as you make an effort to be left alone, you magnetise admirers to no end. This is reminiscent of Greta Garbo’s famous quote, ‘I never said, "I want to be alone". I only said, "I want to be left alone". There is a whole world of difference.’ It’s true with you as well. You’re not necessarily an antisocial bitch who hates people; you just want to be left alone by gluttonous gossipers and silly simpers. You find it hard to grasp why people behave unreasonably in society, all, the, time.

You yearn for a more intellectual world where people behave honourably, which is quite paradoxical considering you’re often perceived as quite scandalous in your behaviour and lifestyle choices as well. For example, you could be gay or queer? You could desire to defy social norms such as ‘having to marry by a certain age’? You either reject social norms or you live completely opposite to what’s expected of your gender, nationality or age. You don’t like being told how to live your Life as if you couldn’t work it out yourself. It's YOUR Life, right?

It’s MY Life! My Story! Is what you say.

You’re the kind of super bad bitch that gives no one permission to decide how you should sail your ship. You’re at the wheel so you’re gonna sail the world however best you know. You’re gonna learn a ton because you’re not afraid of detours or delays or whatever—you could meet accidents, hopefully not fatal ones, but you’re going to learn. That’s what growing up well is all about for you. And if you meet the right kind of audience, your whole AURA is going to empower them to do just the same for themselves~

keep being you, Glorious One – 4 of Cups Rx

You are destined for an exciting Life. In fact, you’re meant to have an audience, have some kind of impact on the world, you’re meant to become some kind of a famous person. Could be a celeb, yeah, but in this social media era, literally everybody can have their own unique kind of celebrity, right? You’re meant to be seen, heard, listened to, watched, analysed (LOL), and learn from.

You’re somebody who’s rare and your perspectives are deeply needed by this world. This world that’s often blindsided by optical illusions. Of all people, you’re the only one who’s not getting sucked into the mirage of mass media and deceitful politicians. You’re the one who’s noticing where the lies are all at. And you need to point that shit out, spell it out for other people to see what’s truly going on in this world.

You could gain enemies, lots of them, in fact; but you are definitely gaining a massive following far greater than that if you remain authentic and courageous. Stay spooky. Stay scandalous. Stay gloriously YOU~ You’ve no idea just how much that Light of yours is needed in this world of long shadows. Keep your Third Eye open and keep your divine protection. Most people have yet to catch on to the one thing that makes YOU superfluously attractive: a courageous Heart that seeks to liberate others from the chains of their own cowardice.

YOUR BEAUTY KILLS🔻🧡

story of your evolution – Priestess of Luck

a legacy of authenticity – Green Magus (John Dee)

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[sebscore]

PUT IT INTO SPEED DRIVE

pairings: charles leclerc x driver!reader // lando norris x driver!reader // george russell x driver!reader // alex albon x driver!reader

warnings: theft. swearing. talks about sexuality and a sexual reference. cops.

author’s note: the idea comes from this ask that someone send my lovely wife! 🥹 I changed it from a car to a camera, because I don’t want my poor baby to have her car stolen :((

masterlist

•••••••

“Now that you’ve won Monaco two times in a row, you’re too good to play with us?” Alex teased the younger one as she stood on the side of the public padel court.

Y/N stuck out her tongue at him. “Not the guy in a Williams trying to come for me.”

“Auwch.” Lando said to Alex, impressed by his friend’s comeback.

“We can only play with 4 people, and I’m sure Miss Monaco would love to be umpire.” George argued, giving the young woman an expectant look.

She quickly nodded at the tall Brit, holding her hand up to her head as if she were a soldier. “Yes, sir!”

“No! She can’t be umpire! She’s gonna call all my shots out.” Lando complained, pointing at her.

“She’s not, Lando.” Charles defended her, although there was a doubtful tone to his voice.

Y/N smirked at the McLaren driver. “Well, now I will.”

“See, Charles? We’re gonna lose now.” He told his doubles partner.

“I mean- you were gonna lose anyway.” George started the healthy competitive trash talk.

“OH!” Charles and Lando loudly chorused, pretending to be hurt by his words.

“Warm-up first, or do we just get straight into it?” Alex asked the three guys after everyone calmed down.

Charles, George and Lando glanced at one another. “Just get straight into it? It’s not like we’re gonna take this too seriously anyway.” George suggested, already knowing it would turn into a shit show soon.

Everyone agreed with a small chuckle, and started taking their own respective places on the court.

“Alright, who’s gonna serve?” Charles loudly asked.

“Wait! We should do it like they do in tennis! Deciding with a coin toss!” Y/N suggested.

“You have a coin?”

“I think I have one in my bag! Oh, I also have my camera with me, should we do like a before and after picture?” She snickered.

“That sounds good.” Alex stemmed in, the others nodding as well. “Yeah, I like it when I’m all sweaty and people take pictures of me.” Lando sarcastically joked.

“Basically our job.” Charles grinned.

“They should calm down on all the can-“

“HEY! THAT’S MY CAMERA!” Y/N’s shouting interrupted their small talk, their heads swiftly turning to where she was standing.

They were just about to ask for a clarification when they saw the young woman run after, what seemed, an unrecognizable man that was holding her camera.

“Y/N don’t do that!” George yelled to no avail, not wanting her to get hurt by the thief.

The quartet didn’t hesitate in grabbing their own stuff before running after their unhinged colleague- Lando also quickly took Y/N’s bag in his hands, figuring none of her other stuff should be stolen too.

The five of them watched in frustration as the mysterious man climbed into a car that drove away at high speed.

“We have to go after him!” Y/N yelled, agony on her face at the potential loss of the device. “Did someone come by car?”

Alex, Charles and George shook their heads, while Lando nervously glanced at his friend. “Uh, I did.”

“Norris, please?” She begged, growing more impatient by the second.

“Can’t you just by a new one? It’s really dang-“

“It’s the camera that you bought for me!” Y/N admitted, hoping it would convince the Brit to chase them down.

Fortunately, it worked. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Do all of us go or…?” Alex hesitated following the two youngest ones.

“Yes, Albono! The more, the better! We can ambush them!” Y/N loudly answered, resulting in the whole group following Lando to his car.

There was a collective disappointment as they made it to his car, not expecting his blue Jolly Fiat to be parked there.

Lando spoke up before anyone else could. “Look, if I had known we would be doing a Fast & The Furious, I would have come with another car. Get the fuck in.”

Lando got in the driver’s seat with Y/N taking taking the seat next to him as she knew where they had sped off to.

The three others were about to step in, but quickly found out that there were only 2 seats in the back. “Uh, someone is gonna have to stay behind.” George noted.

“Oh, no, someone can just sit on someone else, it’s fine, I’ve done it before.” Lando assured them.

Alex, Charles and George gave each other a nervous glance. “Uh, so who-“

“Come on, ladies! Get it before those assholes see all the ugly pictures I’ve taken of you guys.” Y/N’s words shut them up and they cramped into the backseats, Alex somehow ending on George’s lap.

“Let’s catch some thieves!” Lando shouted out, although the speed of his Jolly made the moment anti-climactic.

Meanwhile Y/N instructed Lando on where to go, Alex suggested someone call the police- which Charles decided to do since he had the best knowledge of the French language amongst the three of them.

“Why does this thing go so slow?” George criticized the car, a judging look on his face.

“They took inspiration from the Mercedes.” Lando bit back, not appreciating the slander of his car.

Alex, and Y/N snickered at the comment. “More like from Williams.” The youngest corrected.

“Hey, that’s enough!” Alex defended his team.

The attention went from Alex to Charles as he hung up the phone. “They’re gonna dispatch a team, and advised us to respect the rules of the road.”

“Fuck the rules, I want my camera back.” Y/N said, yelling at Lando as he almost went the wrong way.

“You’re not being a good navigator right now!” He screamed back.

She groaned at him. “I’m literally pointing at where you’re supposed to go!”

“You’re not pointing good enough!” The two 23 year-olds start bickering back-and-forth with one another, much to the dismay of the other three men in the small car.

“Why are they always like this?” Alex whispered to George and Charles.

The both of them shrugged their shoulders. “Unresolved sexual frustrations is my guess,” he mumbled, “at least on Lando’s part, I’m still not sure what Y/N is.”

The Williams and Ferrari driver snickered at George’s answer, somehow understanding what he was referring to.

“Are you gossiping about me, Russell?” Y/N suddenly turned around in her seat, catching the Brit off-guard.

He merely shook his head, his eyes widened.

“Good, you wouldn’t want the others to know what you’ve been up to.” Despite the sweet smile on her face, the threatening tone to her words made the Mercedes driver feel uneasy.

“THERE!” Y/N’s loud voice made the entire car flinch, Lando momentarily letting go of his steering wheel.

“Y/N ARE YOU CRAZY? WE COULD HAVE CRASHED!” Alex scolded the young woman, almost falling out of the car as he was still seated on George’s lap.

“I’m sorry, Albono,” she smiled sheepishly, “but look, the police stopped them.”

The four men in the car let out a collective sigh of relief, glad their adventure was over.

Lando parked the car on the side of the road, behind the thieves’ getaway car. They could see a cop walking over to them.

“You called?” He asked in French, glancing at the five of them.

The drivers shamelessly looked at Charles, the man internally rolled his eyes at them, but he answered his questions.

After some questions back-and-forth, Charles pointed at the woman in the passenger’s seat.

“Y-your camera?” The cop asked in a heavy French accent.

Y/N nodded her head, a polite smile present. “Yes.”

“Would you, uh, mind filling out a little paperwork in the combi? You’ll get your camera back as well and can check if there’s any damage.”

“Sure, no problem.” She gave her colleagues a smile, and made her way towards the large cop car.

The four drivers remained quiet as the cop didn’t follow Y/N, instead lingering around Lando’s car. “It’s a Jolly?” He asked.

“Yes!” Lando answered, cringing at his over-polite voice.

“Aren’t those for just four people…” The man gave the four of them a stern glance, raising an eyebrow.

They awkwardly chuckled, not knowing what to properly answer. “Uh, well, you know, our friend, she, uh-“

“I’ll let it slide, this one time only!” The cop raised his index finger, indicating this would be the one and only time he’ll let them get away with it. “And don’t speed around. I know you guys are Formula One drivers, but you also have to respect the rules.”

“Yeah, we will. Thank you so much.” George thanked him in name of everyone.

Y/N came walking back to the car, a happy look on her face as she had her camera back. “It’s not damaged!” She excitedly told them.

“That’s great, Y/N.” Lando was relieved his present for her hadn’t been broken.

“You guys are free to leave, but next time I’ll have to give you a fine, alright?” The cop reminded them one more time.

“It won’t happen again, thank you so much.” The group of five chorused several sayings of gratitude, before driving back to the sports center.

“Well, that’s going to be a fun story.” Charles snickered, dimples on display.

The others laughed, only then realizing how bizarre this whole situation was. “I don’t think people are even going to believe this.” George noted.

“Oh my god…” Y/N mumbled.

The heads of her four friends turned towards her. “What is it? Is something wrong with the camera?” Lando asked, concerned about the device.

“Those fuckers took a selfie with it!” She exclaimed, disbelief written all over her face.

“What?!”

“Look at this,” she handed it to the three guys in the back, the small screen showing the two men in their getaway car, “who fucking does that?”

“Well, at least we have proof now…”

[onelittlespiral]

You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!

FML: Contact

I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.

“Hey, sorry bro.”

It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.

“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.

“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.

“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”

“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”

“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”

“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.

“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.

With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”

“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”

“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.

“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.

“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”

“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…

I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:

Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.

I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:

“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”

I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”

“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”

“What’s that supposed mean?”

“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.

“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”

“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”

“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”

I was about in tears, “Deal.”

He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:

“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.

“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”

He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”

“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted

“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”

Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.

“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”

The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.

“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”

“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”

“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”

The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.

“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”

“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:

My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.

“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”

A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.

“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.

“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.

“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.

“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”

“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.

“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.

“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”

He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.

“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.

“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”

“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”

He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”

He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.

————

Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️

[somesecretpie]

As a bug lover, it's so frustrating to me that disgust of bugs is so dang common. Like, I get people with phobias, that's something they can't control. But it's just this like...hatred. Like imagine that you really liked dogs and every time you wanted to talk about dogs or post a picture of a cute puppy, everybody start saying stuff like "Ew kill it with fire! That's so nasty. I want to vomit."

Like...It's just a LITTLE GUY!

Come on man :(

[vamph00n]

idea, but idk if you take ideas

reader gets turned on by hoon’s vampire like features, and convinces him to rp as one while they’re fucking

mdni

tags: femreader, vampire kink, mentions of the twilight movies, hoon is jealous obv.

*not proofread will do later

wc: 1,2k

smut tags under the cut

i added my own lil spin on it annonie~ mainly cause i’ve been rewatching twilight rndjsoskdndknsla

smut tags: biting kink, implications of sex, dirty talk, chest groping, etc

he doesn’t know how many times you watched those stupid twilight movies. all he knew is that you fawned over some guy in those films with the most victorian name ever. he wasn’t your type and sunghoon was sure of it, why would he be your type when he; your boyfriend, was right there? nah, he didn’t like that you thought of any other men than him. even if he was fictional.

you had all the books too, along with whatever smutty literature he saw on that well dusted shelf in your house. you lived in those dirty fantasies when he was right there. the way you’d kick your feet and giggle while watching those movies. it really pissed him off, it was all imaginary, pretend. it was stupid for him to be so jealous, but god there was one thing he hated the most about your little hyper fixation…

well, the thing is sunghoon doesn’t want to come off as a pissy bitch. he’ll happily go along with whatever endeavors you put him through. it’s just when you make him watch the same few movies with you again, he felt his ego shrink every passing second spent staring at robert pattinson play a vampire. especially when your comments consisted of comparisons between him and edward whats-his-face’s character.

“look at him hoon, he’s like all sparkly in the sun, n’ he has like this mad gaze.” Your eyes pan over to your boyfriend, watching him stare at the tv blankly, in a boredom induced daze.

he’s tuning out what you’re saying, because well, it makes him feel somewhat inadequate. it’s so rare for him to feel this way. he’s so self assured, maybe even a little egotistical sometimes. how can he not be? you yourself loaded up his little brain with compliments and ideas. saying how he’s the man of your fucking dreams, or the way your body contorted in different ways, becoming helpless when he did so little as touching you. hell yeah, you made him feel so damn special.

with his brows furrowed at the screen, he sees your odd stare from the corner of his eye. why do anything to reassure you of what you were thinking in that moment? he knows you, he can practically read your mind. before diverting your attention back to the screen a scoff leaves your mouth. call him petty or whatever you want, he just wants to get through watching this god forsaken movie for the millionth time without his brain frying.

sunghoon is so ridged. his arms are crossed, and he’s like, all stiff. whatever, you can deal with it. although it’s frustrating that he’s so oblivious.

you find yourself scooting closer, leaning and commenting on the movie. with each sentence you say, you can feel his dreary attitude loom over. it’s given, you’ve forced him to death watch your silly little movies to the point where he himself can recite each word.

“he’s like, —i don’t know. like can you imagine? getting puncture wounds, and hickeys at the same—“

that’s where sunghoon draws the line.

“can you shut up?”

dang. he was livid. you have right to your own thoughts but to think like that? when he’s right there? when he can well rip off your panties and fuck you the way this guy can’t because it’s all speculative? all you had to do was let him, just ask and he’ll deliver. you know it.

but then again, you boyfriend is as dense as concrete and dumb as bricks sometimes. guess you’d have to give him a nudge, a hint too probably.

“i mean, can you imagine what’s it like to be a vampire?”

you’ve practically told him what you wanted, and he still has that red cloudy look of jealousy with somewhat of a frown on his face and his overgrown bangs shading his eyes. if he wasn’t upset, you’d tell him how cute he looks right now. how dumb he is, is also what you’d tell him. then again you weren’t exactly being straightforward.

with your question slipping in one ear and out the other, he just tunes you out. yeah it’s pathetic he feels so strongly about something so meaningless, could he help it though? he was insane about you.

your eyes darken as you grab the remote, and thank goodness you turned it off. sunghoon finds you sliding on of your legs over his thighs as you take a seat. you gaze into his eyes, he looks annoyed. he’s suppressing the urge to just fuck the stupid crush you had on that twilight vampire out of you. it makes you laugh at how blind he is. nevermind, you probably had to spell it out for him.

“you can do that. you can bite me here, and here-“

you drag your two fingers indicating where he could, and his breath hitches. it’s like all his senses are tingly, and piercing. his ears are ringing, with the rush of adrenaline and the newfound excitement he had. just hearing you describe what you wanted him to do.

you saw his jaw hang slack, as you merely told him what you wanted. tracing your fingers down your abdomen and to your thighs, you tap on the fleshy inner part.

“you can bite here too.”

his hands grab your hips, he gets it now. he slides a hand up your shirt holding your chest. your mind drives him crazy. his touch sends shivers down your spine.

“here too?” he asks asks, so politely.

it makes you heat up, and become more wet than your imagination allowed. when you thought of him like the cold blooded undead he resembled so much, it made you infatuated with the idea of it. the idea of him. how could he not see it? when you drew comparisons that surely pointed towards his own features that you loved so much.

his pretty skin glows in the dim light of your living room unlike of that portrayed in the movie. he’s real, and right here.

“didn’t you ever think, perhaps..” you say it so sweetly as you feel his hand roam around your body.

before you can finish your sentence, your breath is cut short. your back is now against the cushions of the couch, and his arms trap you beneath him. sunghoon wonders how he got so lucky, to have someone like you to show him all the ways he can make you wet. your so sick and twisted, not for your little fantasy you wanted him to indulge in, but the fact you didn’t just tell him straight up. he ought to punish you.

he’ll let it slide though. partially because he feels his cock twitch restrained by his pants, and because he’s so willing to do what you ask of him. he knows this is the just the beginning, and honestly he’ll have fun woh it. so with his lips ghosting your neck, and his hot breath up against your ear he asks you a question.

“tell me what else you want me to do as your vampire. sweetheart”

copyright @vamph00n 2024

[iomoru]

Whispers In The Summer Breeze

A/n: dang it's almost a month since i last posted

Genre: Canon Verse, Fluff, Gn! Reader, Drunk! Kazuha x Reader, Flirty! Kazuha, Second Person, Proofread

Summary: Kazuha gets drunk at the Angel's Share Tavern after mistaking Venti's wine for grape juice. He starts acting flirty with you, catching everyone off guard, especially Paimon, who reacts dramatically. Amid the chaos, you realize Kazuha's drunken confessions might be more genuine than they seem.

The Angel's Share Tavern buzzed with laughter and conversation as the Traveler, Paimon, Venti, Xinyan, and Kazuha gathered around a table. You had joined them after a long day of adventuring, eager to relax and catch up with friends. Venti had taken it upon himself to ensure that everyone’s glasses were filled—whether they wanted it or not.

You were sipping your drink and enjoying the lively atmosphere when your attention was drawn to Kazuha, who was now leaning against the table with a dazed, dreamy smile. His usually composed expression had melted into something much softer, a light flush spreading across his cheeks. You watched in amusement as he swirled his glass absentmindedly, clearly under the influence of the Dandelion Wine that Venti had oh-so-generously poured.

"Ah, this is so much fun!" Xinyan said with a laugh, oblivious to Kazuha tipsy state. "I didn't know you had it in you, Kazuha!"

Kazuha didn't seem to hear her. Instead, he held his empty glass up to Venti and, with a soft giggle, slurred, "More... more pleaseee..." He hiccupped, a delighted laugh escaping his lips as he leaned back with a contented sigh. His normally calm and elegant demeanor was completely replaced by the image of a man utterly relaxed and happy.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. "Oh no," you muttered under your breath, shooting a look of disbelief at Venti. The Bard had a wide grin on his face, clearly enjoying the sight of Kazuha in such a state.

"Venti!" you said, your tone a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Did you seriously get Kazuha drunk on purpose?"

Venti chuckled, waving his hand as if to brush off your concern. "What? I didn't force him to drink!" he said innocently. "He just couldn't resist the sweet taste of Dandelion Wine. It's all part of the tavern experience, right? Besides, it's not every day you get to see our dear samurai so...expressive."

You glared at Venti, feeling your patience wearing thin. "You tricked him into this," you said, your arms crossed in annoyance. "Kazuha thought it was grape juice at first!"

Before Venti could retort, Kazuha’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes softening when they landed on your face. He blinked a couple of times, as if trying to focus, then gave you the sweetest, most lopsided smile you’d ever seen.

"There you are," Kazuha said in a voice that was almost a whisper, filled with a drunken warmth. "My guiding star in the darkness...my anchor in the wind." He let out another giggle, his eyes never leaving yours as he added, "Did I ever tell you how the breeze feels different when you’re near? Like it’s dancing just for us."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, your heart skipping a beat at how direct he was being. "Kazuha, you're really out of it, aren't you?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your face felt like it was burning.

Kazuha let out a soft chuckle, reaching for your hand across the table and holding it gently. "Maybe," he said with a sly smile, his thumb lightly brushing your knuckles. "Or maybe...the wine has given me the courage to say what my sober self only ever dared to dream."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Paimon’s shocked voice cut through the moment.

"Wait, wait, wait! Paimon can’t believe what she’s seeing!" Paimon shrieked, her hands on her cheeks as she floated beside the table. "Kazuha’s all flirty and mushy! This is way too weird!"

Venti snickered, clearly delighted by the chaos he’d caused. "Ah, come on, Paimon! It’s all in good fun! You have to admit, it’s not every day we get to see a samurai fall head over heels."

"Ugh! Paimon thinks this is a disaster!" Paimon said dramatically, throwing her hands up. "Kazuha’s not supposed to be like this! He’s supposed to be all cool and mysterious, not a lovesick poet!"

Kazuha, still holding your hand, looked up at Paimon with a dreamy smile. "Ah, Paimon, even the winds listen to the secrets of my heart tonight," he said softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "And they tell me...that they carry my thoughts to one person only."

You and Kazuha exchanged a look, both of you caught between embarrassment and amusement, while Paimon puffed up like an indignant little ball.

"That's it! Paimon’s outta here! If Kazuha’s gonna be all mushy like this, Paimon’s gonna go tell the Traveler all about it!" she huffed, crossing her arms as she floated off in a huff.

As Paimon’s indignant exit made everyone at the table laugh, you couldn't help but squeeze Kazuha's hand a little tighter, his affectionate gaze warming your heart. Even in his drunken state, surrounded by the chaos of the tavern, this moment felt more real and genuine than you could have ever imagined.

And somehow, you knew that when the wine’s effect wore off and the morning light returned, Kazuha’s feelings wouldn’t just disappear like the night breeze—they’d still be there, as steadfast as ever.

A/n: Im gonna start using character headers most of the time bc it's so hard to find good ahh headers (high chance I might quit writing due to school gang 🔥)

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

[opiopal]

wow wow! what about an mc, whos first language is not english (assuming the characters or even the whole devildom got forced to learn human and celestial languages), talks with their first lang sometimes! And solomon being the hopeless romantic wanted to stand out from the brothers and flex that he can understand them. so sometimes when the broz are invited to dinner at the castle and they all are chatting mc participates and get asked a question by solomon but trying to translate that train of thoughts to english was tiring so they just decide fuck it we ball and started blabering with "black magic" language (claimed belphie) while the others are like ??????? all while solomon is nodding happily (i lowk see barbatos understanding too)

this is so so silly!!!!! I LOVE stuff that’s just Solomon and Mc being human together, like it’s such an odd thing to bond over but dang it that old man needs it BAD.

Also, I can imagine mc finds it nice and a little comforting to have someone around who’s not only human, but can also speak their first language! Maybe once or twice they giggle at his pronunciation, since I’m sure he knows many languages so his pronunciation gets scrambled sometimes, but apart from that they find it really really sweet(and I wouldn’t be surprised if it got things moving in their relationship faster,). I could totally see mc becoming frustrated or upset and rambling to him in their first language bc the english language just can’t properly explain their feelings,

and adding onto the dinner party, that is hilarious.

I can see Mc turning to Solomon and pausing for a second, stuttering over their words before pausing long and hard to think, the others think it’s a little cute the way they stutter and how they look when they’re thinking.. but then again they think everything mc does is cute. Then a quick look of frustration washes over their face, and everyone gets caught off guard as they just suddenly switch into an entirely different language! Solomon is just sitting and nodding, listening very attentively, while everyone else looks around at each other wondering what is coming out of their humans mouth?? And just as mc is finished speaking and someone goes to question, Solomon responds in their language and once AGAIN everyone is thrown off their groove, some of them turn to S8n for answers, since he’s read through many books about humans, but he’s way to focused on listening in and translating the few words he already knows in his head, belphie leans over to a confused beel and whispers awfully loud “I think it’s just black magic speak,” and Beel simply nods as if accepting this as fact,

eventually barb glances around with a brow raised, keeping his usual smile on his face before chuckling, “you all realize that they’re simply just speaking one of the multiple languages from the human realm, yes?”, luci, s8n, and dia all nod, of course, it was obvious, Luci and dia saw it was mentioned on Mc’s record that their first language wasn’t English, and s8n was a normal person and simply just asked mc what they were saying whenever they slipped a few words from their first language into a sentence. Though the others pause and look a bit embarrassed, mams tries to brush it off as if he was only messing around and pretending to not understand what his human was saying. Levi definitely puts his head down against the table, his face is beet red and he just can’t help but feel ashamed… asmo nods, calmly admitting that it only confused him for a second, but he knew what his lovely mc was doing! …He just couldn’t understand them! Beel glances away looking like a kicked dog and belphie…. Well, I’m sure he couldn’t care less quite honestly, only really humming in response then turning to make fun of mams for trying to play it off.

Mc eventually stops talking with Solomon to give them all a look, then looks back over to him, not switching back into English quite yet, and saying something along the lines of “maybe I shouldn’t speak English around them so often, condition them,” and Solomon laughs and agrees with them as mc giggles as well,

ALSO.

imagine Solomon writing them little notes and poems in their first language and giving it to them, typically with a little gift attached, and it just makes mc’s soul flutter. And when Mc gets frustrated at RAD they’ll squeeze him into a tight hug as they struggle to not loose their mind, only to slowly start to relax as he soothes them quietly in their language. and other times he softly whispers something to them in their ear just.. when he feels like messing with them. it wouldn’t really matter what he’s saying, but it still flusters them, and ofc it’s even better because they don’t have to take a moment to process every single word he just said, and imagine waking up next to him, cuddling and just holding each other, enchanting a few words sleepily, asking how the other slept and small “good mornings” before they both get up to start the day,

and in nightbringer, you can’t tell me they wouldn’t almost strictly talk in mc’s first language whenever it’s just the two of them. And I mean it’s nearly 24/7, they text like that, bicker like that, love each other like that, and it probably brings mc’s more of a sense of stability, I can imagine it’s just a lot more grounding for them no matter what.

also little side note: I can imagine a few of the brothers trying really really hard to learn mc’s first language and then getting SUPER hyped after being able to hold a basic yet short conversation with them</3

(mb if this isn’t very good, I’m super tired and wrote this before sleeping</3)

[oneslimybastard]

Another underutilized aspect of N, Natural Harmonia Gropius himself, is that he's conceptualized as not just a Math Guy, but a Math Genius if we go by some interview trivia notated on Bulbapedia.

It clearly shows in the way he speaks since his (translated) dialogue (idk about the original japanese one) is full of hamfisted references to formulas and frustration expressed when the chaos of the world does not align with them — which to me is like, the core of his character, something that makes him both An Asshole to deal with but also a very intellectually curios and creative individual. It's just a brand of creativity not a lot of people can keep up with nor understand.

N likes math because a lot of math is about clearly defined variables and their relationship to one another. If you come across an inconsistency that doesn't fit any prior definitions, you iron out a new definition and suddenly the field has expanded upon itself tenfold. It aligns with how his Very Autistic Brain functions, x + y = z, if I do x to y then z will happen. If z doesn't happen, then that just means I have to identify the hidden variables within the exchange and rewrite the formula to be more accurate.

Black and White's quality of writing is. Like pokémon often is. Questionable at best. The foundations are there but the execution is dumbed down and corny because it's still aimed at kids, BW in specific really cutting the theme of pokémon trainer ethics short in favor of just "dang u beat me in the pogiebattle guess ur right!". How-ev-er. In my head, and the reason why I still find the plot of those games compelling (aside for my unhinged thirst for goth man-milf Ghetsis) is that to me they're about local cult-raised autist Normal Henry Gropus bashing his head against the world over and over to desperately try and make the formulas make sense, to distill it into variables he can understand and predict on a consistent basis, and failing miserably at it. Because even if the world is Technically made up of a bunch of chemistry that you could, in theory, predict, there's just a lot of random noise in there from microscopic complexities that fuck everything up.

Pokémon are simpler creatures (discounting the eerily intelligent ones) who will be nice enough to behave like math problems most of the time. Humans rarely extend that grace, the more N studies them like a science project the more contradictory variables pop up. They have a million thoughts in their head he doesn't have access to, that brew into feelings he doesn't understand, which leads to actions he can't do a proper traceback through. Which is frustrating, devastatingly frustrating. At least at first.

Due to how BW2 pans out and my own yearning for thematic mirroring, whereas Ghetsis gives in to the Autistic Bitterness over all these NTs he doesn't fuckign understand, I like to think N develops a sort of joy in studying people like the impossibly complex math problems we are. Because he likes math, he likes figuring shit out, he likes buying a nightmare rubik's cube and charting the squares out on a nightmare variable graph (listen i am not a math guy. i respect the hustle but my skill level is too low to accurately attempt to simulate the process in writing. im sorry math guys) so he has a home-made flexible cheat code on how to solve any possible mix-up of it. It's fun for him, it stimulates his brain and he is so stupid good at it that he can only share that joy with like a stray alakazam or metagross because he's a bit of a tarzan just hanging out in the wilderness, he doesn't know any high end mathematicians he can casually geek out about combinatorial game theory with, and the normies just do not get it .

I think this math enjoying is kind of a big part of his ~Innocence~ as well, since there's a lot of childlike glee to being a Math Guy. It's the love of problem solving as a process rather than a means to an end, it's playful, but severely misunderstood to the point where people kinda might assume things about you if you are a math guy.

N's love of math helps him love the world but it also isolates him. He's a genius, but since he can't communicate it in a palatable way it'll get overlooked in favor of him just being a loomy weirdo on the street chatting up the local patrats.

If introduced to DnD though he'd spend so much time on forging ridiculously optimized multiclass builds, then migrate to digging through old obscure sci-fi ttrpgs from the 80s with hellishly complex systems just for the funsies of learning how the presented variables behave within a variety of frameworks, but then if you actually invited him to play with your group he'd look at you like you'd just called his mom a llama.

He's a neat guy to me, STEM guy who's also one of those animal rights activists who's a little too PETA-coded, I like him :)

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices (Book 2 of 3 BTR Series) a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 25: Maybe..

March 1st, 2025 2:11 PM

Jey worked out in his home office, sweat dripping down his back as his feet pounded rhythmically against the treadmill. He’d set the incline high and pushed himself hard, his focus on maintaining his stamina and strength despite his limited in-ring schedule.

Rhea was out with her parents, shopping in Stamford. It wasn’t often her parents visited, so Jey had encouraged her to spend the day with them. Meanwhile, their home buzzed with its usual chaos. Jesse and Jeremy made their rounds outside the property, ensuring everything stayed secure. Jeremiah watched as Bella and Barry, the playful dogs, were running around the yard, occasionally barking at nothing in particular. Storm, the aloof cat, was nowhere to be found—probably off scheming in some hidden corner of the house.

Jey’s focus was abruptly shattered when his phone began to ring on the desk next to the treadmill. He slowed the speed to a walk, breathing heavily as he grabbed a towel to wipe his face before glancing at the caller ID. Jonathan’s name flashed on the screen.

With a sigh, Jey accepted the call. “Hey, bro,” he greeted, his voice still slightly breathless.

“Hey, man,” Jonathan’s voice came through, casual but warm. “We were thinking about coming up to visit for a bit. Trinity said a weekend wasn’t enough time, so we figured we’d come up.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jey said, stepping off the treadmill and stretching his arms. “I don’t mind. What day you thinking about flying in?”

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, as though gauging Jey’s reaction. “We were thinking Tuesday. Jaciyah’s birthday is Friday, so we figured we’d stay till Sunday.”

Jey froze, the words hitting him like a freight train. “Fuck!” he blurted out, his hand immediately running over his face in frustration.

On the other end of the line, Jonathan’s tone turned incredulous. “Wait, wait, hold up—you forgot your firstborn son’s 18th birthday?”

Jey groaned, pacing the room now, his frustration with himself growing. “Man, it’s been so hectic lately. Between Rhea’s pregnancy, Rhea still not opening up, her parents being in town, and everything else going on, it slipped my mind. Damn, Jon, I feel like shit.”

Jonathan laughed softly, though it carried a tone of disbelief. “I get it. But come on, this is Jaciyah’s 18th. We gotta do something good.”

“I know, I know,” Jey muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll make it up to him. I’ll plan something special.”

“You better,” Jonathan said, his voice lighter now. “We’ll help out when we get there. Trinity’s already thinking about what to buy for him.”

Jey let out a breath, grateful for his brother’s understanding. “Appreciate it, man. I’ll figure out how to make this the best birthday he’s ever had.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Definitely.” Jey said, cracking a small smile. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”

After hanging up, Jey leaned against the desk, staring at the blank wall in front of him. Guilt gnawed at him. Jaciyah was his firstborn, his pride and joy, and forgetting his birthday—even amidst all the chaos—was a blow to his own sense of responsibility.

Jey began to pace around his office, phone in hand, as he called his son Jaciyah. The line rang a few times before Jaciyah finally picked up. Jey paused his pacing briefly..

“Hey, Dad,” Jaciyah greeted, his voice casual but warm.

“Hey, son,” Jey replied, his tone light. “How’s everything over at your mom’s?”

Jaciyah chuckled. “It’s going good. Mom made brownies the other day, and man, I had a dang sugar attack. I was bouncing off the walls.”

Jey laughed, the image of his son hyped up on sugar making him smile. “I bet you were. Listen…” Jey hesitated, trying to find the best way to steer the conversation. “So, I hear someone’s got a birthday coming up soon.”

There was a pause before Jaciyah cut straight to the point, his voice brightening with excitement. “I want Rhea to make a triple-layer yellow cake with chocolate icing, I want a BBQ, and I want you to meet Daya.”

Jey blinked. “Hold up—who’s Daya?”

Another pause hung in the air before Jaciyah’s sheepish voice returned. “The girl you caught me with.”

Jey leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “Ah, so that’s her name. Alright, alright.” He chuckled softly, but his tone shifted to something more serious. “You sure about introducing her to the family? That’s a big step.”

“Yeah, Dad, I’m sure,” Jaciyah said confidently. “She’s important to me, and I want her to meet everyone.”

Jey nodded, respecting his son’s decision. “Okay, I hear you. So, no big party? Just a BBQ and cake?”

“Yeah,” Jaciyah replied. “Just something small with the family. Nothing too crazy.”

Jey smiled, a wave of relief washing over him. A smaller gathering would make things easier to manage, and he liked the idea of keeping it intimate. “Alright, son. I’ll make it happen. It’s gonna be a birthday to remember.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Jaciyah said warmly. “Oh, and tell Rhea I’m counting on that cake.”

Jey chuckled. “I’ll let her know. Love you, kid.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

Hanging up, Jey leaned back in his chair, already making mental notes of what needed to be done. He’d need to talk to Rhea about the cake and reach out to Trinity and Jonathan about the BBQ. And then, of course, there was Daya. Meeting his son’s girlfriend for the first time felt like a milestone of its own.

Jey couldn’t help but smile to himself. This birthday might’ve caught him off guard, but he was determined to make it a special one.

—

Rhea entered her and Jey’s house, bags of baby clothes in tow, her heart light with the excitement of the day’s shopping. The air felt comfortable and familiar, but there was a slight tension in her chest as she walked toward the living room, where Jey was waiting for her. He rose from his seat and kissed her cheek as she handed him the bags. Jey smiled as he saw all of the contents and set the bags gently on the coffee table.

“How was the trip to the mall?” Jey asked, a soft smile on his face.

Before Rhea could answer, her mother interjected, holding up a small onesie with a white and grey dinosaur design. “Oh Joshua, I brought the perfect onesie for my grandbaby.” Rhea’s mom was beaming, her eyes filled with love as she held up the gift, a pair of white booties and a matching beanie in her other hand.

Jey took the items from her mother and examined them with a smile. “It’s cute,” he agreed, his tone affectionate. He put the items into the bag and sat down on his spot on the couch.

Rhea, feeling the weight of the day catching up with her, collapsed onto the couch next to Jey. Her body ached from shopping and the long day, but seeing her parents’ happiness made it worth it. Her mother smiled at them both before excusing herself and Rhea’s dad, taking them to the guest room for some rest. The house settled into a peaceful quiet, just the two of them now.

Jey’s gaze was lingering on her with a mixture of affection and concern. “I forgot Jaciyah’s birthday,” he said, his voice tinged with guilt.

Rhea looked at him, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the underlying frustration. “I know you did, but I didn’t,” she replied softly.

Jey looked at her, confusion flickering across his face. “How?”

“I remember birthdays better than you,” Rhea teased, but the humor didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her tone held a hint of frustration, an emotion she had been carrying for days now.

Jey ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “What would I do without you?” he asked, his voice sincere, though a little playful.

Rhea’s smile faded as she leaned back against the couch. She exhaled deeply, her gaze distant for a moment before she spoke, her voice quiet but steady. “I don’t know… maybe think about that before you say something stupid like what you said to me in Titusville.”

Jey’s expression softened, his eyes searching hers. “Babe, I love you, but you’re still not over it?” His voice held a trace of frustration, but more than that, there was concern. He didn’t understand why this one thing was still lingering in her mind.

Rhea looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Joshua, what you said really hurt me,” she said, her voice steady but thick with emotion. “If you can’t see why I’m not letting this go…” She trailed off, feeling the weight of her words.

There was a long, heavy pause. Jey opened his mouth to say something, but Rhea cut him off, shaking her head. “Forget it,” she muttered under her breath.

Without waiting for his response, she stood up from the couch, her movements brisk as she grabbed the bags and turned away from him, heading toward the stairs.

Jey watched her, his heart sinking as he processed her words. He had hurt her, and despite his love for her, he couldn’t understand the depth of the pain she felt. He heard her footsteps fade as she ascended the stairs, leaving him alone in the quiet of their home.

Rhea, on the other hand, made her way to the bedroom, her thoughts racing. She didn’t want to let the hurt fester between them, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that what Jey had said in Titusville had exposed something deeper. Something he didn’t fully understand about her—about their relationship.

She laid the baby clothes on the bed and sat down beside them, her mind still on the conversation. She needed time. Time to process, to breathe, and to find a way to heal from the hurt.

For a moment, all she could think about was the weight of everything—the baby, her future with Jey, and the small things that seemed to pile up without resolution. Rhea sighed heavily, trying to find a way to center herself.

Meanwhile, Damian descended the stairs, his casual demeanor slightly dampened by the weight of the conversation he knew was coming. He took one look at Jey and, with a shrug, said, “What’s up?”

Jey sighed, his frustration clear. “Rhea again.”

Damian couldn’t help but laugh, more out of disbelief than amusement, as he grabbed a Sprite from the fridge. He sat down on the loveseat across from Jey and took a sip. “You really pushed her with that shit you said,” Damian remarked, his tone more serious now. “And you know what? I don’t blame her.”

Jey ran a hand through his hair. “I fucked up,” he admitted, his voice tinged with exhaustion. “I know that. I’ve admitted that. But why can’t she just forgive me and love me?”

Damian set his drink down, the weight of his words catching Jey’s full attention. “You do realize this is like the fourth time you kinda fucked up, right?” he said, his voice even but firm.

Jey shot him a confused glance. “What the hell do you mean?”

Damian leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “Well, first there was Portland, where you pushed her. Don’t even try to deny that one. Then there was keeping Jeyce from her after Takecia threatened you. She almost killed herself, Jey. She nearly ended it all because she thought she’d never have a chance to be your wife or be a mother to Jeyce. That’s not just a fuck-up. That’s something you need to really own. Thirdly, there was that argument back in January, when you called her out… if I remember correctly she needed to learn how to stop running away from shit.” Damian paused, his eyes narrowing. “Fourthly… Titusville.”

Jey looked down, guilt washing over him as each instance rolled off Damian’s tongue. But Damian wasn’t done. “And that’s not even mentioning the shit you did when you two weren’t together,” he added. “Like asking her to leave Matt while you stayed with Takecia. That shit? Took the cake. It was messed up.”

Jey winced, his chest tightening as the full weight of his mistakes hit him. “Okay,” he said quietly, trying to process everything.

Damian sat back, his tone softening. “Man, I get it. You love her. I can see it, but the way you’ve been treating her—it’s been a lot. And she’s been through enough shit already. She doesn’t deserve to keep dealing with your mistakes. You have to show her, not just tell her, that you’ve changed. That you’re not going to keep repeating the same shit over and over.”

Jey didn’t respond immediately. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the weight of everything Damian had just said. He wanted to argue, wanted to justify his actions, but he knew Damian was right. Every word cut deep, and he couldn’t pretend that things were as simple as just saying “sorry” and hoping things would go back to normal.

Finally, Jey spoke, his voice hoarse. “I just want her to forgive me, man. I don’t know how much more I can do.”

Damian sighed, his expression a mixture of frustration and sympathy. “You can’t just expect her to forgive you because you say sorry. You have to prove it. You’ve hurt her in so many ways, and she’s been loyal to you through it all. But now, she’s at a point where she’s probably wondering if you’re ever going to change. If you’re going to keep breaking her heart.”

Jey slumped further into the couch, the weight of it all bearing down on him. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I love her, but… I don’t want to lose her.”

Damian gave him a stern look. “Then stop making excuses. Stop taking her for granted. You’ve got to show her that she’s your priority. And more importantly, you’ve got to show her that you’ve learned from all this.”

Jey nodded slowly, taking in the advice. He knew deep down that Damian was right. He had taken Rhea for granted more times than he could count, and now it was time to prove that he was capable of doing better. If he didn’t, he feared he might lose her for good.

“I’ll do better,” Jey muttered, more to himself than to Damian. “I just need a chance to show her.”

Damian stood up, stretching out his arms. “Well, it starts with not making the same mistakes again. She deserves better than that, and if you really love her, you’ll show her that.”

—

Later on in the day, Jey gently tended to the roses in the greenhouse, carefully trimming away the dead petals, when he heard the familiar creak of the door opening behind him. He turned around to see Rhea’s father stepping inside, a look of quiet admiration on his face as he gazed at the barely-blooming sunflowers.

“I hear from my daughter that you have a green thumb,” Rhea’s father said, a slight smile on his lips as he took in the rows of plants.

Jey chuckled softly, wiping his hands on his jeans before straightening up. “Yeah, my mother was the gardener. Had me and my twin helping her every weekend morning growing up. It’s a bit of an inherited skill, I guess.”

Rhea’s father nodded, a look of understanding crossing his face. “Where’s your father in all of this? Was he around to help?”

Jey’s expression shifted as he thought back to his childhood. “My father was having a wrestling career,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I only saw him about two months out of the year. So it was mostly my mom, us kids, and the garden.”

Rhea’s father frowned sympathetically. “I can imagine how that must have been tormenting.”

Jey shrugged slightly, trying to push the old memories aside. “I managed,” he said simply.

The two stood there for a moment, the peaceful hum of the greenhouse filling the air as Rhea’s father moved to admire more of the plants. After a beat, he looked at Jey again, his tone a little more somber. “I believe you are the one for my daughter.”

Jey froze, a curious but cautious look in his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

Rhea’s father glanced over at him, his eyes softening. “A few years ago, Rhea took care of her mom by paying for her entire cancer treatment,” he said quietly. “That woman was on her last leg, and Rhea… she did everything she could. Every month, without fail, she sent money for everything. I couldn’t afford it on my own because my retirement wasn’t enough to cover the medical bills. But Rhea, she kept us afloat. She did all of that without ever asking for anything in return.”

Jey’s expression turned somber, his gaze shifting to the ground for a moment as the weight of the conversation sank in. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t realized how much Rhea had been shouldering on her own, all the while dealing with everything in her life.

“I didn’t know Mrs. Bennett had cancer,” Jey said quietly, his voice full of genuine surprise and sorrow.

Rhea’s father looked at him, his eyes distant for a moment as he remembered the hardship. “Breast cancer. Almost took the love of my life away,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Rhea’s father sighed, taking a step back to admire the plants again, as though the memories were easier to face this way. “My memory does serve me right.. yup.. for about four years, every month, Rhea would send money. We couldn’t have made it without her. She worked harder than anyone I’ve ever known, and she never let us feel like a burden. Even when it was hard for her, she never let it show.”

Jey stood quietly for a moment, processing the gravity of what he was hearing. Rhea’s strength, her loyalty, the burden she carried all on her own for so long—it made everything that much more profound.

“She’s in remission now?” Jey asked softly, almost afraid of the answer but needing to hear it.

Rhea’s father smiled, though it was a bittersweet smile. “As of April 2022. Thank God,” he said, his voice heavy with relief.

Jey let out a soft breath, the weight of it all sinking in. “Thank God,” he repeated, as if to himself. He could hardly imagine the pain Rhea had gone through, and now it made so much more sense why she was the way she was, so fiercely independent, always carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“She’s a hell of a woman,” Jey said quietly, his voice filled with admiration.

Rhea’s father looked at him, nodding slowly. “That’s why I trust you with her,” he said, his voice firm but kind. “You love her. And I can see it, Jey. But you have to understand, there’s a lot of hurt she’s carried. She’ll never show it, but it’s there.”

Jey met his gaze, understanding the silent warning. “I know,” he said softly, his voice determined. “I won’t let her down again.”

Rhea’s father studied him for a moment longer before giving a slow nod. “Good. She deserves everything, Jey. Don’t forget that.”

Jey nodded back, his heart heavy with both the responsibility and the love he felt for Rhea. This was his chance, not just to prove himself to her, but to truly understand what she had been through—and do whatever it took to make things right.

Jey stood there, the weight of the conversation pressing deeper into him. Despite hearing the story of Rhea’s strength, something still gnawed at him—something he couldn’t quite shake.

“Did Rhea ever speak of me when she was with Matthew?” Jey asked quietly, his voice filled with curiosity and a hint of lingering doubt.

Rhea’s father paused for a moment, his gaze distant as he seemed to search through his memories. Then, with a slow nod, he responded, his tone thoughtful.

“She did,” Rhea’s father said, his voice laced with a heaviness Jey hadn’t expected. “I didn’t know this at the time, but at their wedding, my daughter asked us if she chose the wrong person.”

Jey’s breath caught, his heart tightening as he processed the words. He could almost hear Rhea’s voice asking those questions, torn and uncertain, just like the woman he knew.

Rhea’s father let out a long sigh, his expression softening. “I didn’t have it in my heart to tell her yes,” he continued. “So, I just told her that whatever she decided, we would be beside her.”

Jey swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in his chest.

Rhea’s father walked over to one of the sunflowers in the greenhouse, absentmindedly brushing his hand over the petals as he spoke again, his voice low and reflective.

“On her 27th birthday, I tried to talk to her about Matt’s behavior. I tried to tell her she deserved better, but she didn’t listen. She was stubborn, as always,” he said, a slight chuckle escaping his lips despite the seriousness of the conversation. “I love my daughter, I do, but sometimes she has to make a mistake in order to learn. And when she falls, I’ll always be here to help her get up, to help her learn from it.”

Jey absorbed the words carefully, understanding the deep care and frustration in Rhea’s father’s voice. It was a painful reality—that Rhea had to go through that period of uncertainty and heartache on her own, trying to find answers, trying to make it work with someone who wasn’t right for her.

Jey’s heart began to sink further. He had always believed in Rhea’s strength, but hearing how her family had witnessed her struggle, her father’s silent support, it hit him harder than he had expected.

“You did the right thing,” Jey said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “Sometimes we have to let them make their own mistakes.”

Rhea’s father turned to face him, his gaze hardening slightly but filled with understanding. “I believe that, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I could see it in her eyes when she married him. She wasn’t fully sure. She was still running from the choices she had made, even though she was trying to convince herself she wasn’t.”

Jey nodded, the truth sinking in deeper. The guilt of not being there for Rhea when she needed him was still a heavy burden, but he knew now more than ever that he couldn’t dwell on the past.

“I’ll make sure she never has to feel that way again,” Jey promised, his voice firm.

Rhea’s father studied him for a moment, then gave a slow nod of approval. “I hope you do, Jey. But remember, it’s not just about the promises you make now. It’s about showing her every day that she can trust you, that she can count on you when it matters most.”

Jey’s chest tightened with resolve. “I understand.”

Rhea’s father gave him a nod of approval, then returned his attention to the flowers in front of him. “Good. I can see she’s in good hands. Just don’t break her heart, Jey. I’ve seen her hurt enough.”

Jey stood still for a moment, reflecting on the weight of his words. He knew what he had to do now, not just to make things right with Rhea, but to prove to her family, especially her father, that he was the one she deserved.

—

Later on in the night, Jey was searching for a good birthday gift for Jaciyah when he heard laughter. He put his iPad down and got up, heading down the hallway. He spotted a room door ajar and quietly peered inside. He could hear Damian and Rhea talking, and although he didn’t want to eavesdrop, the soft sound of Rhea’s voice made him stop in his tracks.

“That little thunderstorm you have brewing in your stomach is going to be in style,” Damian said, his voice playful.

Rhea’s laughter echoed through the hallway, and Jey smiled to himself. “You would get my baby a Judas Priest onesie,” she responded, amusement in her tone.

Damian chuckled. “Have you thought at all about who would be the godparents?”

Rhea sighed. “I wanted you and Kayden, but more than likely Jey is going to convince me for Jon and Trinity.”

Damian’s voice grew softer, and Jey’s curiosity deepened. “You have a say in this, you know. It’s not just Jey’s kid, it’s your baby too.”

Rhea’s response was filled with an unspoken sadness, and Jey felt his chest tighten. “I know, but I might as well just do what Jey says. Don’t want to get him angry.”

Damian’s tone became more serious, concerned. “Rhea… mamas’, you have to start caring about yourself.”

Jey stood frozen in place, listening intently, unable to tear himself away. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do with the thoughts racing through his mind.

Rhea sighed deeply before replying, her voice quieter now. “I know, I know… but it’s not just about me. It’s about Jey and his kids.”

Damian’s response was firm, a steady reassurance in his voice. “They are your kids too, Rhea.”

Jey felt the weight of those words. His kids. He hadn’t realized that Rhea might still feel like an outsider, even now. The thought of her doubting herself hit him harder than he expected.

Rhea’s voice broke through the silence, her vulnerability more apparent now. “I just don’t feel enough anymore. I honestly think my hormones are getting to me… everything makes me feel sad.”

Damian’s voice softened, a comforting presence. “Don’t blame your doubts on your hormones, Rhea. You’re allowed to feel what you’re feeling. But you have to start listening to yourself too. You’ve been so focused on everyone else—maybe it’s time you focused on you for once.”

Jey’s heart ached hearing that. He could feel his own guilt gnawing at him. He truly hadn’t realized how much Rhea was carrying on her own.

Just as he was about to step into the room, he stopped and Damian’s voice grew more distant as Rhea responded.

“I don’t know, Damian. I just… I can’t seem to get it right. It’s like everything is slipping away from me, and I’m just trying to hold on.”

Jey closed his eyes for a moment, pain and concern flooding him. Maybe today was the wake-up call he needed. Maybe he’d been so focused on his own guilt, on his own issues, that he hadn’t truly seen what Rhea was going through. He knew he had to make things right, and that started with understanding her—truly understanding her.

“Thank you for the gift, Damian, honestly,” Rhea said, her voice still carrying the warmth of their earlier conversation.

Jey quickly ducked back into the bedroom, hearing Rhea’s footsteps approach. He scrambled back onto the bed, grabbing his iPad, trying to act casual. He could hear her moving down the hallway, but didn’t know how much time he had before she’d come back.

A few moments later, the door creaked open, and Rhea stepped inside, holding the onesie in her hands. She walked to the dresser and gently laid it down without saying a word. Jey could see her silhouette in the soft light from the hallway, her movements deliberate but quiet.

She didn’t glance his way as she undressed, changing into her pajamas with the practiced ease of someone who had done it a thousand times. Jey watched, his heart aching as he realized just how distant she seemed in that moment. She climbed into bed on her side and immediately reached to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The space between them felt suffocating.

Jey set his iPad down, staring at the back of her head as he lay beside her. He reached out tentatively, his hand moving toward her shoulder, hoping to pull her close. But just as his fingers brushed against her, Rhea’s voice cut through the stillness.

“Not tonight.”

Jey froze, his hand hovering in the air. His throat tightened, but he swallowed, trying to fight back the hurt. “I need my button nose back…” he murmured, trying to make light of the situation, hoping she’d soften.

But Rhea didn’t respond with the usual warmth. Instead, she swatted his hand away, her voice cold. “Jey, I’m not in the mood right now at all. Just don’t touch me.”

Jey felt a sharp pang in his chest, the weight of her words settling heavy in his stomach. “Rhea, please,” he pleaded softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m trying here. I just… I miss you.”

Rhea didn’t move, her body still facing away from him, the space between them growing. She exhaled deeply, her voice barely above a whisper but laced with something raw. “I don’t have the strength right now, Jey. Just please… leave me alone.”

Jey’s chest tightened, but he couldn’t let it end like this. He needed to hold her, needed her to know how much he loved her, even if she couldn’t feel it right now. He reached out once more, but the distance between them felt so insurmountable. “I love you, Rhea,” he whispered, his voice thick with vulnerability. “I love you so much.”

Rhea’s voice came out sharp, a small quiver of emotion beneath the anger. “I love you too, Jey, but don’t fucking touch me right now.”

Jey pulled his hand back slowly, his heart sinking. He wanted to respect her space, to give her what she needed, but the ache inside of him was unbearable. With a deep sigh, he turned over onto his side, his back to her, and let the silence fill the room.

Both of them were there—physically, at least—but emotionally, they felt a world apart.

—

The next day, Rhea said her final goodbyes to her parents at the airport, hugging them both tightly. “I’ll send pictures of the bump soon,” she promised, her voice thick with emotion. Her mom kissed her forehead, telling her how proud they were, while her dad gave her a final piece of advice to take care of herself.

After parting with her parents, Rhea hugged Damian, wishing him well on his return to RAW. “Take care of yourself, D. I’m proud of you.” Damian smiled, patting her shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, and I’ll be keeping an eye on that baby bump.”

With the goodbyes said, Rhea made her way to the entrance of the airport, ready to head home. She walked out into the crisp air, spotting Jeremiah pulling in with her plum-colored Tahoe. She got into the passenger seat, offering him a tired but grateful smile. “Let’s go to Trader Joe’s,” she said, her mind already thinking of what she needed. Jeremiah nodded and quickly set the address into the GPS, pulling away from the curb.

Meanwhile, back at home, Jeyce and Jaciyah were glued to the PS5, completely absorbed in their game. Jey, on the other hand, was outside, making his way through the greenhouse, carefully tending to the roses. He wasn’t sure why, but he found comfort in the act of nurturing something. Maybe it was because it was something he could control in a time where everything else felt so uncertain.

As he focused on the roses, he heard small footsteps approaching. Turning around, he saw Barry, Rhea’s dog, trotting over to him with his tail wagging. Jey bent down, offering the dog a smile and a pat on the head. “I hope your mom forgives me soon,” he murmured to the dog, his heart heavy with the weight of his unresolved tension with Rhea. Barry let out a soft bark, as if in agreement, and Jey couldn’t help but smile.

Shaking his head, he returned to trimming the roses, when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw a text message from Jon. It read: “Hey, we’ll be flying in on Tuesday. Our plane lands at 9 pm.”

Jey quickly typed back, offering his help: “I’ll pick you guys up at the airport. See you then.” After sending the message, he sighed, wishing he could find a way to make things right with Rhea. But for now, he focused on getting ready for Jon and Trinity’s arrival.

He glanced back at the roses, hoping that one day things would bloom again between him and Rhea.

—

Flashback: August 9, 2018 - 11:57 PM

The air in the hallway was thick with tension as Morris opened the door to the dimly lit room. Inside, the fiery redhead, Valerie, was lounging on a bed, her legs crossed and her attention focused on her phone. She didn’t look up immediately but continued texting as if the world around her didn’t exist.

Morris stepped into the room, his presence commanding attention, and the moment Valerie glanced up, her sharp green eyes locked onto his. “Why do you have so much regard for Black Mamba?” she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something dangerous.

Morris chuckled, a low, dangerous sound, and leaned against the doorframe, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her. “When did you think it was okay to start asking questions?” His tone was casual, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable.

Valerie shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes flickered with the same intensity she had in her earlier question. “I’m just saying… my sister knows her, and she isn’t all that great in the—”

Before she could finish, Morris moved with lightning speed. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, pulling her face dangerously close to his. His breath was hot on her skin, and his grip tightened painfully.

“No one speaks about Mamba,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and threatening, the weight of his words hanging in the air like an iron chain. “Am I clear?”

Valerie froze for a moment, her eyes wide with the realization of just how serious he was. She swallowed hard, her defiance fading as fear crept into her chest. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, her voice strained but obedient.

Morris held her gaze for a beat longer, then slowly released her hair, stepping back as if nothing had happened. Valerie, still shaken but attempting to maintain her composure, quickly looked away, her phone now forgotten in her hands.

Morris gave a nod, his smirk returning as if nothing had transpired. “Good,” he said, turning to leave the room. “Remember, Valerie… some things are better left unsaid.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, the room was left in silence, the air heavy with unspoken tension.

[gothamite-rambler]

Dino nuggets debate

Damian (crossing his arms): I don't eat them because they're shaped like dinosaurs. I eat them because they're FUCKING CHICKEN NUGGETS!

Jason, Cass, and Tim remain silent, startled by the young boy's reaction.

Stephanie (annoyed, rolling her eyes): Preach, you want a medal? You want to look like this mature young man, but you're more childish than Peppa Pig.

Damian (shouting): Take that back, harlot!

Stephanie (smirking): Enjoy the dino nuggets because they're dino-shaped, you goblin!

Damian (stepping closer, fists balling): Call me a goblin again and I'll cut you with a scathing insult!

Stephanie (taunting): Harlot was the best you got, goblin.

Damian shook with rage.

Damian (with a slight sneer): You... You enjoy game shows because you secretly still love your dad!

Tim stepped away from the kitchen table knowing where this was going when he saw Stephanie's red face and had already dealt with Damian's deep cutting retorts.

Stephanie (furiously): Oh, you wanna die!

Cass, sensing the tension, quickly stepped in to hold Stephanie back.

Cass (calmly): Easy, Steph.

Damian: Are you mad that you can answer every question from family feud? Did your father teach you that?!

Stephanie: I will put my foot up your ass!

Jason reached over, grabbing Damian by the collar and dragging him out of the room.

Jason (grinning): Okay she's swearing, I'm going to get you away from her.

As they leave, Stephanie glares after them, her frustration palpable.

Stephanie: Dang it! I owe my ma a hundred bucks!

Cass (continuing to hold Stephanie by her waist): Tim wasn't kidding about him going for the juggler without using a weapon.

[moonsapprentice]

helllooooo !! you obviously don’t have to do this if you don’t want to do no pressure but i have autism + adhd and i was wondering if you could write headcanons for each of the boys x a reader with autism / adhd ( you dont have to do both you can just pick one if you want ^^; )

this was my first time requesting something so it was a little hard AHHH but if you do this tysm !! :) also thank you for trying to revive the tags bc this is a very big hyperfixation for me and it sucks to never see writing for it lol

Yess!! Omg ahhh this is my first ever request! I’d be happy to do it :)

⋆ ✶ ✷ 𝔐𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔞 𝔰/𝔬 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔰𝔪/𝔞𝔡𝔥𝔡 ✷ ✶ ⋆

𝔈𝔡𝔡

✩ honestly he’s probably neurodivergent in some way himself

✩ definitely really understanding

✩ finds it adorable when you fidget, but also hates it when he’s drawing you and you keep moving 😭

“No, no, wait move back the way you were”

✩ SPEAKING of drawing, if you’re hyperfixating on something he’ll draw it for you

✩ he just wants to see you happy. 😞💚

✩ if you get overstimulated he’s probably the best out of the 4 to go to

✩ if it’s loud noises, he’ll help block it out by covering your ears, if it’s because a place is crowded he’ll keep you close to himself, etc

✩ helps you re-focus by nudging you lightly or saying your name quietly

✩ if you have a hyperfixation he 100% binges it so he knows everything about it

✩ lets you rant about anything with him

✩ if he’s out at the store and finds something relating to your fixation, he’ll show it to you all exited

✩ if you’re hyperactive, he tries to match your energy and be hyper with you

✩ however, if you need a moment of quiet to just recoup, he’ll be silent and wait until you’re ready

✩ if you’re having a panic attack or overstimulated he rubs your head and whispers comforting things. He’ll take you somewhere private until you’re okay

✩ if you like them, he’ll get you fidget toys

✩ if you stim by bouncing up and down or making repetitive noises he finds it the CUTEST THING EVER

✩ tries really hard not to baby you though

✩ if you go non-verbal, he’ll get those lil card things and try to figure out what you need

✩ for the most part, perfect

✩ but he’d probably get stressed out when you’re upset and he can’t figure out why

𝔐𝔞𝔱𝔱

✩ to be honest he wouldn’t really know what it is 😭

“…adhd..? What does that stand for? A dang hot dude? That’s me!”

✩ once you explain he still doesn’t really understand but he tries his best

✩ always asks you if you need anything

✩ if you go nonverbal he kinda panics, he frantically googles until he finds out what’s happening to you

✩ he kinda just hugs you until you’re okay

✩ same thing goes for panic attacks and stuff

✩ he’s perfect to be around if you’re hyper, because no matter what he’ll get hyper and match your energy too

✩ doesn’t really know what stimming is but he copies your movement/noises

✩ probably has his own collection of fidgets that he lets you borrow

✩ if you randomly start focusing on something unrelated to whatever you’re doing, he’d probably join in 😭

✩ my man is NOT neurotypical ‼️

✩ probably relates to you in a lot of ways if you have ADHD

✩ will definitely indulge in your hyperfixations

✩ super silly

𝔗𝔬𝔪

✩ theme park dad energy

“Don’t touch that. Or that. Y/n!”

✩ because of his temper he’d probably get frustrated easily

✩ but he’d try to hold it back because he cares about you

✩ he’s perfect if you just need some quiet time

✩ as I’ve said before, a great listener

✩ if you wanna rant about your hyperfixations, or you just wanna be silent, he’ll listen either way

✩ really good at reading you when you’re non-verbal

✩ if you keep getting off track, he nudges you until you listen

✩ lets out quiet chuckles when you stim

✩ not in a mean way, he can just find it amusing and cute

✩ if you’re bouncing your knee or something he’ll lay his hand on it and rub it

✩ I don’t really think he’s neurodivergent so it’s hard for him to relate to you

✩ but he’d do a ton of research so he’s prepared for any situation

✩ would never admit that though

✩ loves seeing your eyes light up when you see something relating to your hyperfixations

✩ If you’re overstimulated he holds you, letting you bury your face in the crook of his neck while he either covers your ears or strokes your back

✩ would not baby you

✩ he’d be comforting, but if something happens he’ll give you the truth on what he thinks you should do

✩ he’d be soft with his wording, but my guy does not sugarcoat

✩ likes to see you fidget with stuff, he finds it cute

𝔗𝔬𝔯𝔡

✩ might get confused at some of your habits

✩ after doing a little research he’d be super understanding though

✩ loves it when you fidget with his fingers or his hoodie strings

✩ finds your stimming adorable

✩ like, he can’t help the grin that crawls on his face when you bounce up and down or make repetitive noises

✩ the first time you stimmed infront of him he literally scooped you up and spun you around

✩ gets super protective if you’re overstimulated

✩ he does literally anything he can for you to feel okay

✩ murmurs sweet things into your ear if you’re panicking

✩ if you go nonverbal he internally panics, but he’s calm on the outside

✩ despite his slight panic, he can read you really well

✩ might accidentally baby you, but if it bothers you he tones it down

✩ loves talking to you about your hyperfixations

✩ just generally finds it adorable how you act

✩ likes to sit you on his lap and play with your hair, letting you rant about whatever the hell you want

✩ snickers when you loose focus on whatever you’re doing

“Love, c’mon. We can look at that later…”

✩ very sweet and understanding

TYSM for the request!!! I’m so sorry that it slowly gets worse my tumblr is lagging so bad it’s hell to write 😭 other than that this was super fun to write!!

- xoxo, Artemis

[wren-of-the-woods]

Curse Fic Recs

I absolutely love Witcher fics where a character gets cursed so I thought I'd share some of my favorites! All of them are Geraskier except for a few Lambden ones at the end.

If anyone has other fics to reccommend, please feel free to give them a shoutout – I’d love to read them!

~

Cursed Jaskier

A Friend in the Wild by @samstree (Rated T, 1k)

In which Geralt acquires a tiny mouse friend who wouldn't stop following him.

If There's Any Sleep At Night by @smolalienbee (Rated T, 22k)

A mare, also known as a mara or a zmora - a malicious entity, a bringer of nightmares and a demon of the night. An easy enough contract to fulfill, if only frustrating, or at least that’s what Geralt believes when he first sets out to hunt down one such mare. What he doesn’t expect is to be wrapped up in a tale of a wronged soul, of love and of joy.

My Name is Hidden On Your Tongue by @anarchycox (Rated T, 10k)

Jaskier is cursed. Well his whole family line is. Every male born child cannot be named. They can be given a name, but it will never be a true one and people will always have an allergic reaction to saying this false name. Only a soulmate speaking your true name aloud will break the curse. The family though has never cared, they've only cared about the family fortune and marrying well. But Jaskier cares. He is determined to travel the world, find his soulmate and learn what his name is. And the best way to travel the world seems to be with a rather taciturn witcher named Geralt of Rivia. If he started to hope that Geralt would be the one to say his true name, well that was one thing that Jaskier would not say aloud.

The Cursed Jewels of Lettenhove by GoldenDaydreams (Rated T, 8k)

Geralt has no intention of getting involved with breaking a curse and naturally ends up very involved.

Silver and Copper by @heronfem (Rated M, 56k)

Jaskier is kept from becoming a bard. Geralt finds him anyway.

Priceless by @handwrittenhello (Rated M, 38k)

Jaskier was cursed as a child; when spilled, his blood turns to rubies and his tears turn to diamonds. When his secret is discovered, Geralt must save him from those who would take advantage of it. Together they work to break the curse, but the cost might end up being too steep.

Set My Wings on Fire by bilboakenshield27 (Not Rated, 4k)

Jaskier gets turned into a bird and has to warn Geralt about an ambush.

Sleep of the Dead by @dancedelion (Rated T, 20k)

Jaskier thinks he hit rock bottom when Geralt flushed twenty years of friendship down the drain, but then he finds himself suddenly translucent and rudely walked through by a traveller. Apparently he's dead - that's certainly a new low. He needs to find out what happened, and who better to help him than the man who's made more than clear he wants nothing to do with him.

The Sandpiper by @welcomemysentence (Rated T, 2k)

When Jaskier gets cursed into an actual sandpiper, the little coast bird, the only way to save him is with true love's kiss.

What's Engraved Upon My Heart (In Letters Deeply Worn) by @made-of-constellations-blog (Rated T, 6k)

Jaskier gets cursed to be a lark with a strange failsafe to turn him back. Geralt misses this, and realizes too late that he's not ready to lose his bard.

to be held by @wanderlust-t (Rated T, 1k)

The knife dropped on the ground. And Geralt’s thoughts reached to a halt for a moment. He had no rope. Not anything to keep Jaskier still. To hold him back. Oh. That was going to be a really long night.

Catskier by @al-in-my-head (Rated T, 17k)

Due to an unfortunate encounter with a mage while him and Geralt are apart, Jaskier is transformed into a cat. It just so happens that Geralt likes talking to animals.

~

Cursed Geralt

A Marvelous Night for a Moondance by @flowercrown-bard (Rated T, 1k)

There was a warning every child living near Oakwood Valley knew. "Don't go out at night, or you'll disturb the Moonlit Dancer." No one truly knew who the Moonlit Dancer was, but everyone agreed on two things: The Dancer must be dangerous. And he must be oh so lonely.

animal instinct by leodesic (Rated M, 13k)

Despite Jaskier's hard work, there are still plenty of people who hate witchers. They think they're monstrous, inhuman, only held back from violence by a thin veneer of control. One mage has a plan to spread his views by capturing a witcher and bewitching them to remove their control. When the Butcher of Blaviken walks into his hideout, he's convinced he's found the perfect candidate - and a convenient way to get rid of the pesky bard that's been singing his praises. Jaskier is forced to agree witchers are not human, but that doesn't mean they're dangerous. In fact, he's astounded by how many of Geralt's uncontrolled impulses involve touching.

Connecting dots by @dapandapod (Rated G, 3k)

Geralt is hit with a lying curse, and it takes Jaskier an embarrassing amount of time to figure it out. Now, it Jaskier only would stick to the safe questions....

Don't Go Stealing My Heart by @thesilverqueenlady (Rated T, 17k)

When Jaskier is stiffed by a lord on payment, he decides to help himself to proper compensation. Alongside the correct amount of gold and silver, he also steals a beautiful silver wolf's head medallion. It's safe to say that he is not expecting the medallion to be haunted by the spirit of a very grumpy, very handsome, very cursed Witcher.

Cuddles, Curses, and Confusion by me :D (Rated T, 3k)

Geralt becomes oddly affectionate after being cursed by a mage. Jaskier would just like his life to be less complicated, please.

Spectre's Soul also by me :D (Rated T, 31k)

When Jaskier tried to go on a date with a man named Rience, he did not expect to nearly be killed. He certainly did not expect to discover a beautiful valley while running away from him. He very definitely did not expect to find out that the valley was haunted — by an absurdly beautiful man. Or: In which Geralt is cursed to be a ghost and Jaskier is the first person in decades to talk to him.

~

Cursed Aiden

Headache at First Sight by YorkAndDelta (Rated T, 12k)

A story of how Lambert ends up looking after a cursed cat, helping a Witcher from a rival school retrieve his gear from angry mages, and maybe finds love along the way.

~

Cursed Lambert

the mortifying ordeal of being known as a cat by @skaldingrayne Rated M, 10k

Lambert is cursed to be a cat. Fortunately, he finds Jaskier.

~

You can find my other reclists here!