#more of that story is being made because people are buying the cake!!

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

post bagging on a retelling based on a specific archetype: we as a society have to move on—

no. more cake is more cake.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment Prologue

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 5.2K (sorry)

Masterlist | Prologue (II)

“Y/N L/N!” Your heart dropped and your blood ran with ice. No, no. You were 18 fucking years old for god’s sake. You were so close to being out. Six years of reapings and even more slips with your name, because you had to take out tesserae, had finally caught up with you.

You realized the girls around you were backing up, leaving you to stand in the middle with nowhere to hide. You had always felt bad for the kids being singled out like this but now you realized just how isolating it already was. You looked up to the stage, your face already projected onto the screen. Just below that, your district escort, Salvia Vala, was beckoning for you to come up on the stage. You were already so close you could see the flaws in her caked on makeup and artificial… everything.

Realizing that just standing there would neither give you a better chance nor keep you from going into the games, you made your way to the stairs. As you were pulled towards the center of the stage, you tried desperately not to look at the people of your district. You were a bit of a loner in 12 so you weren’t avoiding the gazes of those who cared about you, you were avoiding the pity in the eyes of the people who never bothered to help you.

Next was the boys’ reaping. “Alder Oakly,” Salvia called out. You didn’t look at the boy until he was facing you on the stage, trying to give him the slightest bit of dignity. You shook his hand when prompted, observing him. He was clean, unlike the people you knew in the Seam. He probably came from the wealthier part of 12 but he was still pale like a lot of 12. His dark hair had the slightest bit of coal dust, also very common in 12 despite his wealthier status. His clothing was pristine in contrast to your best dress which was covered in coal dust and faded with age.

You were quickly ushered into the district capital building, into a nicely decorated room. One of the few buildings the Capitol had actually built in the districts so when they had to grace the poorest district with their presence, they wouldn’t immediately go running for the hills.

You sat quietly. This was supposed to be the room people said their goodbyes to you in. But there was no one to wish you luck or mourn you when you died. So you sat with your thoughts. Your head was simultaneously empty and racing with thoughts. Across the hall, you could hear sobs of presumably Alder’s mother. Maybe his girlfriend. You had no idea. You were kind of relieved no one came to see you. At least you knew you wouldn’t cause any pain to anyone when you were gone.

You were then jolted from your thoughts by the door opening. You recognized Haymitch Abernathy, the victor of the 50th Hunger Games. Apparently, he was supposed to attend the reapings but, after being so drunk one time, he fell off the stage and they had stopped requiring him to be there. You had seen him a few times at the Hobb buying alcohol but other than that, the only things you knew about him were rumors. That he had won the “wrong” way and the Capitol had killed his family for it.

He made his way into the room, only stumbling slightly until he slumped on the chair. As he sat he took a moment to observe her. Rather than a tear-stained face or eyes wide with fear, she just stared at him quizzically. Clearly taken off guard by his presence. Her eyes were filled with curiosity, giving her a look of innocence he knew the Capitol would love.

You were unsure what to say as he took a deep swig from his flask. “Okay,” he slurred out, his tone as if he were correcting you, “I don’t normally do this but I’ve seen you around the Hobb, and that Al kid has more than enough support.” You still didn’t know what was going on, given that he was the only living Victor in 12 you thought he was supposed to prepare you together. “My advice? Start drinking now. You wanna start?” he asked, holding out the flask to you.

You took it hesitantly, still unsure how to react to the situation. You took a whiff first, your nose burning. But seeing as you had nothing better to do, you pressed it to your lips, tipping it back tentatively. There was a surprising amount in there based on how inebriated he already was so you got a full swig. You immediately began coughing, hating the burn that seemed to course through your body as you swallowed.

Haymitch chuckled a little. “What? You never have whisky?” You only shook your head. “Seriously?” he stopped laughing. “I thought they said you were 18. I’d understand if you were 12 or even 14 but 18 years and you never got drunk?” He looked shocked. Despite alcohol being technically illegal it was probably the most popular thing sold on the black market.

“It was either buy food or liquor,” you explained. “And when it came to stealing, it was either risk getting caught stealing food or liquor.” Haymitch hummed before pulling a roll wrapped in a napkin out of his jacket pocket, holding it out to you. You shook your head no, “Can’t even think about eating.” For the first time in god knows how long you didn’t feel the lingering hunger.

“My real advice? Eat. You’ll need it to keep you going in the games.”

At that you laughed. “You think I can win? The starving girl, from 12, with no prospects, winning the fucking hunger games? I don’t know, maybe someone like that hunter girl could win but I have no skills.”

“Can you hold a knife? Can you point it at someone? You’ve got skills,” Haymitch shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. “You and I both know it’s more than that. It’s about survival, sponsors, fighting skills, the ability to actually take a life.”

“Don’t assume what I know. I actually went to the games. I know what it’s like. You don’t.”

“Yet,” you added. “Maybe I‘ll never know. They have bombs in the arena, right? If you step off the platform early? Instant death has to be better than getting hacked apart by a career,” you mused.

Haymitch was horrified by the calm she exuded while talking about how she was planning to kill herself.

Haymitch shook his head. “If you jump off that platform you just give them what they want. Submission. Fight to survive. Be the first female victor from 12 in 57 years.”

“Why do you even care?” you asked, sick of being told what to do. “I know you’ve never exactly been mentor of the year. Why are you going out of your way to talk to me? Convincing me to try?”

Haymitch opened and closed his mouth a few times at a loss for words. He then just sighed, downing another swig of whiskey before standing up. “I’ll see you on the train.”

~

You sat on the train, staring down at your empty plate. The train car was full of food you never dreamed you’d get the opportunity to eat. But you still couldn’t bear the idea of actually eating. Then, the door opened and Alder came in. He sat down and immediately began serving himself, digging in. “You can eat?” you asked. “I haven’t been able to stomach the idea of eating since…”

“I wasn’t able to either, at first, until dinner last night. I forced myself to take a bite and ever since then I’ve had an appetite,” he explained. You turned your attention back to the food, contemplating his words. Reaching for a muffin, you pulled a little off, popping it in your mouth. “Have you met our mentor yet? He came to dinner and asked about you. When he realized we weren’t both here he just grabbed some food and left.”

“Uh, no,” you lied, taking another bite of the muffin. It was nothing like you had ever had before. It was sweet and filling but also light and airy. “He’s a drunk. Only here because he had to be.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” a voice cut in from the door. You didn’t even turn around, just waited for him to walk into your eyeline. “I’m here for the desserts,” he picked up a pastry as he sat down, “and refreshments,” he held up a glass of brown liquor.

“So what do we do? How do we survive?” Alder asked.

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “All you wealthier kids are all the same. ‘How do I survive? How do I win?’ You know who wins? The kids who have struggled. Who’ve provided for themselves and their families,” he ranted, looking at you over the rim of his glass.

You watched Alder visibly deflate. Clearly he wasn’t ready to die. “You’ve had kids from all over 12, right? Where are they now?” you asked. You knew it was wrong but you were already sick of this drunk’s disparity in attitudes.

Haymitch just pursed his lips, getting up and taking his drink and plate with him.

“Why’d you say that?” Alder asked angrily. “He’s our best shot at getting out of that arena.”

“I said it because he was being a dick. Besides, he’s lost every tribute in the past 17 years. That’s 34 kids he’s had the opportunity to save but he was probably too busy drinking.”

“I mean… it’s not entirely his fault. There are factors out of his control.”

You just rolled your eyes. “Get off his dick, he’s not gonna give you anything more just because you’re kissing his ass.” Standing up, you left Alder alone, heading towards your room on the train. Maybe you could get at least some more sleep. But as you made your way there, Haymitch appeared in the hall, looking stern.

“You have something you wanna say?” he asked, expecting an apology.

“Not really,” you dismissed, trying to walk past him. But he reached out, grabbing your bicep in a surprisingly strong grip for someone so drunk all the time.

“What is your problem?”

“You’re the one with the fucking problem!” you practically yelled. “Why’d you have to scare someone who actually wants to fight? Why are you so insistent on wasting your time with me?”

Haymitch once again opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. He finally clenched his jaw before shaking his head, changing the topic. “You need sponsors if ‘the starving girl from 12’ is gonna win.”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “I’m not playing their fucking game. I’m not going to win.”

Now Haymitch rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Don’t you get it? By winning you defy them. They are trying their hardest to kill you. Win,” he was now practically pleading. “If you’re so eager to kill yourself now, why didn’t you just give up a long time ago? I’ve seen you around 12, I know you’re resilient and if you really wanted to die, you would’ve frozen or starved to death by now.”

You were so taken aback by his words all you could do was tug yourself away from his grasp but he held firm. “Let go of me,” you demanded.

“Promise me you’ll try to get sponsors and actually try to win.”

You stared at him, finding sincerity in his eyes. “Fine,” you agreed.

He nodded, satisfied, before letting you go.

~

The first thing the Capitol did to you was wax and scrub your entire body. This was probably the cleanest you had ever been but the lingering sting all over your body was not worth it. You had overheard a few stylists whispering about being short on time. Apparently your train had arrived late. So you only got a few brief minutes to revel in being clean because soon you were dressed in a black, tarp skirt that barely covered you, and a sheer bandeau top before being powdered with black dust, clearly meant to be coal dust.

You coughed repeatedly as they dumped a bucket of it over your head. They had told you repeatedly to stop moving but you couldn’t help it.

“Ah, isn’t this the most beautiful outfit you’ve ever worn in your life?” a cheery voice came from the doorway. “It’s a fashionable take on the drab coveralls you people in 12 wear.” You opened your eyes, hoping more dust wouldn’t fall into them. You finally caught a glimpse of who you presumed your stylist was. She had a big mess of green curls and everything else about her was as outrageous as her hair. “I’m Vodka, I’ll be your personal stylist while you’re here,” she smiled brightly.

You tried to force a smile but another powder of dust over your face stopped you. “Hold still,” the woman reprimanded you.

When they finally deemed you “covered” enough you were sent out to the chariots. You walked in hesitantly, not finding Alder there yet. Heading over to the very last chariot you could feel the gazes on you but you just kept walking, trying to cover yourself as much as possible. You weren’t the only one subject to the leering gaze of teenage boys, the girl from 4 was only wearing a net.

Soon enough Alder joined you and you were off, being pulled down the chariot line. Alder and all the other tributes were smiling and waving but you just stared ahead, refusing to acknowledge anyone even when Alder tried to make you smile and wave.

Once you were finally back inside, out of public view, you spotted Haymitch. He clapped for you and Alder as he approached. You noticed the way he kept his gaze firmly locked on your face. When he did look away from your face it was firmly above your chest line. “Al, good job. See that Y/N? He’s gonna get sponsors while you starve out in the arena because he’s likeable.”

“I’m not a huge fan of smiling at the people ogling at me but I’ll keep that in mind,” you answered sarcastically. You headed for the elevator, arms covering yourself, avoiding the gazes of the smirking boys as you passed. Upon reaching the elevator, the District 10 tributes and mentors joined you along with Haymitch and Alder finally catching up. Once the metal doors opened, you stepped inside, trying to ignore all of their presences. You held yourself tighter noticing the gazes of the District 10 people. Haymitch must have noticed it too because he stepped away from the wall of the elevator, placing a gentle hand on your hip to push you back so he could step in front of you. You just stared at Haymitch quizzically, touched by his simple reaction, even though you knew he couldn’t see you.

Eventually, District 10 got off the elevator and you were able to leave the tense elevator too. Alder immediately headed to his room, you following behind. But while he continued on, you stopped before disappearing into the hallway. Turning, you found Haymitch already at the bar cart. “Uh thanks,” you said weakly. “For um…”

He just waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.” He then turned his attention to his glass, “Didn’t like the way they were looking at you anyways,” he mumbled mostly to himself.

“Sorry, what?” you asked, unable to make out his words from across the room.

“Nothing,” Haymitch brushed off again. “It was nothing. Get some sleep. You start training tomorrow.” Unconvinced but knowing you wouldn’t get what you were asking for you just nodded, turning to head to bed.

~

The next morning you stood lined up with all the other tributes. You noticed everyone was sending each other glares and eager smiles. Well… the careers were. That was sort of the nice thing about being a career. They have built in friends for the days they spend in existential dread and isolation in the Capitol. Until they all turn their backs on one another and go on a murder spree, slaughtering their fellow children.

You noticed they spared the occasional glance at Alder along with some of the other tributes. Whether they were determining their fellow allies or their first victims, you weren’t sure but you were just glad they weren’t looking at you now that you had all your clothes on.

“In two weeks, 23 of you will be dead,” the head instructor announced, catching everyone’s attention. “One of you will be alive. Who that is will depend on how well you pay attention for the next four days. Particularly to what I’m about to say. First, no fighting with the other tributes. You’ll have plenty of time for that in the arena. My advice is, don’t ignore the survival skills. Everyone wants to grab a sword but most of you will die from natural causes. About three of you will die from infection, and about five from dehydration. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife. You’ll begin with combat training, then survival. After today, you’ll be free to practice whatever skills for the remaining three days before your individual evaluations.”

Being the girl from 12, you were the last to practice everything. You learned quickly that while the careers may laugh at those who failed whatever the exercise was, they dismissed them. You could faintly hear their mumbles as a non-career tribute excelled in any particular skill. Deciding to take a little public humiliation over a target on your back, you purposely failed at every skill. You barely struggled your way up a net, let your arms shake as you picked up the axes, failed miserably at starting a fire, and repeatedly chose poisonous plants to eat.

You weren’t alone in your struggles. The question was, is everyone else faking too?

~

After your first day of training, you went back up to the District 12 floor, straight to your room. You were exhausted as you stepped into the shower, reveling in the luxury of warm water.

After probably far too long you finally got out, wrapping a towel around yourself. Heading out to the main room you didn’t spot your mentor until you were fully out of the bathroom. “Holy shit,” you exclaimed in surprise, seeing him seated on your bed. You immediately pulled the towel tighter around yourself, not missing the way his gaze lingered on your legs for a second.

“Uh, sorry,” he quickly tried to disguise where his attention was. “I- uh… just…” he looked to be seriously trying to figure out what he had initially been here to say before breaking out into a chuckle. “Sorry, I completely forgot what I was gonna say.” He then snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “I know what I was gonna say. You fucking suck. I was watching you. You somehow managed to fail every possible skill. You’ve survived god knows how long without your parents. I find it hard to believe you don’t have any survival skills. Your score is impacted by this training time too. Sponsors don’t send money to tributes who don’t score well.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? For whatever reason I can survive in the Seam but it’s not exactly the same as the fucking wilderness where I’m actively being hunted. Besides, before I came here I don’t think I had ever had a full meal so I can’t exactly help that everyone else is stronger than me.”

Haymitch sighed, standing up. “Look, I get it, a lifetime of malnourishment can’t be fixed by a few days in the Capitol so that’s why you learn how to survive. I’m begging you, figure out your survival skills so the cold or dehydration or even hunger don’t kill you.”

“Why do you care so much?” you asked again. “You don’t treat Alder like this. As far as I know, you haven’t given a damn about any of your tributes.”

Haymitch just sighed, shaking his head. “Get some sleep,” he dismissed, stepping towards the door.

Sick of not knowing what was going on and being treated like a doll, you blocked his path. “No, you’re gonna tell me what’s going on. You’ve been weird like this ever since we met.”

“You don’t know me, you don’t know what’s weird for me. Maybe I'm just looking out for the kid who was raised in the Seam just like me,” Haymitch bullshitted a response. He was desperately hoping she’d accept that because he wasn’t about to tell her he’d been keeping an eye on her the past few months.

He could see it in your eyes, you didn’t fully believe his lies but you let him go anyway. Stepping aside, still in only a towel, water dripping from your hair down your neck and chest, you let him pass, feeling his arm brush against your shoulder.

~

“What do I say to him?” you asked Haymitch frantically as the stylist did your hair.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he tried to assure you. “He'll just ask you a couple questions so the audience gets to know you.”

Over the past few days, you and Haymitch became closer. He wasn’t nearly as perpetually drunk as he was when you first met him. He was actually helping you rather than just yelling at you to be better. And because of that, you were more open to talking to him instead of just giving him sarcastic remarks.

“Up,” the stylist told you. You complied, not questioning it until he began undoing your robe.

“Woah,” Haymitch reacted to it even before you did, gaze averted up to the ceiling.

“Hey-” you protested, holding the robe to your body.

“Vodka wants you dressed,” he explained.

“I know but you’re just doing it in front of him?”

The man gave you a look that said ‘seriously?’ “Your tits were just broadcast on national television a few days ago,” he dismissed, taking off your robe. “Besides, this outfit isn’t much more conservative,” he smiled. Completely unsure what to say you just allowed him to help you into it.

Upon getting the outfit on you knew it was absurdly impractical. It was a black dress, the skirt was long but any modesty was thwarted by a part on your left leg, exposed by the fact that the skirt was only actually on one side, the rest of the fabric was cut short at the hip. This left the bodysuit connected to the corset top exposed. As for the top, the only thing not sheer about it was the boning which did actually provide you a little modesty.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” the stylist asked Haymitch with a smile. He finally looked away from the mirror, jaw genuinely slacked upon seeing the dress. You were gorgeous, anyone would say the same. But he cringed as you were clearly uncomfortable being on display so much.

“You look great,” Haymitch smiled awkwardly. He noticed a slight blush coat your cheeks despite the caked on makeup covering your skin.

Then the door opened and the human equivalent of a tropical bird entered. Vodka literally squealed upon seeing you. “Ah, isn’t the dress just stunning? All the men in the audience are just gonna eat you up,” she gushed. “Come, come,” she ushered, “you have to start lining up for your interview.” You looked back at Haymitch, silently pleading for help as you were practically dragged away.

~

Taking his spot with the other mentors, Haymitch turned his attention to the screen as his tribute walked up on stage. He admired the grace you walked with despite the impossibly tall shoes. Caesar also noticed your outfit as he stood, reaching out a polite hand to you. “My, my, my, Y/N, don’t you look like Capitol royalty,” he complimented. “Doesn’t she look fabulous?” he turned to the audience. They erupted into cheers, a shocking amount of engagement for a District 12 tribute.

The pair sat down and the interview truly began. “It’s hard to believe such a pretty face comes from the coal mining district. Tell me, have you ever been inside or worked in the mines?” Caesar asked.

You nodded, looking down at your lap, fiddling with your hands. “I did work there. I was younger than most but I needed a way to provide for myself.”

“How come?”

You looked like this was the last thing you wanted to talk about but answered anyway. “My mom died giving birth. Mine explosion killed my dad a few years later.”

The crowd made noises of sympathy. At least that was something. But Haymitch already knew your story.

He had been buying booze at the Hobb when he noticed you.

“Come on, I come here every damn week and the first time I’m a few cents short you won’t give me a break?” you had asked the Hobb baker. “You gotta help me out,” you pleaded, “I’ve got nothing else this week. With the northeastern mine collapse no one’s getting paid until they figure it out.”

‘This girl is already working in the mines?’ he has thought to himself. Looking at Lou, who had just sold him alcohol. “Who is she?” he asked, nodding over towards where the girl stood, arguing with the vendor.

Lou took one look at you. “Y/N L/N, she’s been coming since she was about ten after her dad died. Never talked to or sold to her but the others say she’s sweet. Too bad such a young thing is already working. Has been since she was 16.”

Haymitch fished a few coins out of his pocket. “Make up the difference for me, will ya? And don’t mention me.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Caesar sympathized. “Well, in contrast to the dreary District 12, how are you finding the Capitol so far?”

“The, uh, food is really good,” you offered with a weak smile.

“That seems to be a popular answer among tributes,” the interviewer smiled. “Any boys back home?” Haymitch didn’t know why he held his breath at that.

“No,” you answered with a gentle shake of your head. “Too busy trying to survive to think about boys.”

“Well I think everyone in the Capitol is in love with you right now,” Caesar laughed, gesturing to the dress again. “And if you win, you’ll have any pick of Capitol men.” You smiled as Caesar took your hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N L/N,” he reintroduced you before you walked off stage.

~

Out of public view, you stumbled off the stage, headed back where all the other tributes and mentors were watching the remaining interviews on the screen. You made your way over to Haymitch, standing next to him as you turned your attention to the screen where Alder was being introduced.

“Nice job not puking,” Haymitch ‘complimented.’

“Thanks,” you smiled briefly. “He got really personal,” you tried to laugh off the dredging up of all your personal trauma.

Haymitch hummed, trying not to let on that he knew your story already. He sensed that you were somewhat private with your life given your lack of interaction with anyone in 12. “He made you look sympathetic. Sometimes that’s all you can ask for.”

You hummed in agreement. “Or pointless. I don’t have anyone to go home to. No one to fight for.”

“Hey,” he immediately reprimanded, “remember what I said, win out of spite. They want to kill you.”

“‘S that why you won?” you murmured.

“Sort of,” Haymitch relented. “I had a family to go home to but I was so angry I wanted to win just because everyone says District 12 can’t win. I was also the second name drawn and…”

“And if it weren’t for the quarter quell you wouldn’t have gone in,” you finished for him.

Haymitch nodded. “My family would still be here and I wouldn’t be such a…”

“I’m sorry,” you sympathized, placing a comforting hand on his arm. As you remembered where you were, you drew back your hand, returning your attention to Alder who was being dismissed from the stage.

“Go on ahead to the elevator, Alder and I will be right up,” Haymitch suggested. You nodded, walking over towards the elevator.

You got on it with a few other tributes and mentors, groaning internally as you stopped on nearly every floor. But upon reaching the penthouse you went straight to bed. Not because you were tired but because you were drained by your anxiety about tomorrow.

Requesting sleeping pills you took double the dose before laying down in the first comfortable clothes you could find. But after a few hours of tossing and turning, you gave up. You headed to the kitchen that you were sure had never been used as Avoxes brought your meals up to the penthouse. Probably from a bigger kitchen somewhere in the building.

As you were getting a glass of water you noticed someone’s presence. Looking over, you found Alder glaring at you, giving you a start. “Alder!” you said in surprise. “Fuck, you scared me.”

“What’d he tell you?” he asked.

Completely and utterly confused you just stared at him. “What? Who?”

He rolled his eyes. “I know Haymitch has been training you without me. I know that technically we should have two mentors but just because I'm not fucking him doesn’t mean I don’t deserve help.”

“Woah!” you cut him off. “I’m not- Haymitch and I aren’t-”

“Don’t play stupid. I see the way he looks at you. God, you don’t even have a family. You have no one worth living for so why is he helping you?” He paused as if waiting for an explanation but you couldn’t exactly give him one. “If you’re going into the arena with more knowledge then I think it’s only fair we level the playing field,” he said menacingly. Seeing as you were backed against the wall and you knew you wouldn’t be able to fight back without sustaining any injuries yourself, you screamed.

“Shut up!” he screamed, knocking you into the wall.

Hardly a second later, Haymitch’s voice pierced the air. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled, ripping Alder away from you. The boy tried to stammer out an explanation but Haymitch was too angry to listen. “I don’t wanna hear it. You have plenty of time to fight in the morning. Go to bed.” Alder looked angry but walked off anyway. Haymitch then turned to you, his expression softening with genuine concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied, pushing yourself off the ground. “I’ll be taking a lot more than just a shove tomorrow.”

Haymitch looked like he wanted to say more but he just bid you goodnight before heading back to bed, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

Masterlist | Prologue (II)

[zhongrin]

newton’s second law of motion

◇ characters ◇ al haitham (ft. kaveh, cyno, tighnari)

◇ tags ◇ divorced dad al haitham as your ex-hubby, possibly ooc al haitham (?), you have a daughter, al haitham pines on you badly, angst to fluff, crack, kaveh-cyno-tighnari support group ftw, brainrot format with a little fic

◇ a/n ◇ happy birthday you dolt (/aff). i didn't plan to post any birthday fic for him but this thought hit me as soon as i read that silly bday letter. this was supposed to be just a brainrot help-

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

divorced husband!al haitham who is hit by a revelation over the year he lived separated from you - that he had taken you for granted and he had driven you away by failing to communicate and appreciate you properly.

divorced husband!al haitham who receives a little package from you on his birthday; just a small, store-bought birthday cake. he's reminded of the biting words he said the year before, when he tasted the cake you made with your daughter. in hindsight, it was perfectly normal for a three-year-old to mistake salt for sugar. in hindsight, he should have known to hold his tongue. in hindsight, he could have done better than just stare as your daughter cried in your arms.

divorced husband!al haitham who knows that you were just being nice with all these small gestures. for updating him about how your daughter is doing in school every month. it was all a formality of sorts and it was an agreement you had when you broke your marriage. but he can't help the hope that sparked within his chest when he sees your handwriting and hears your voice on the rare meet-ups you organize.

divorced husband!al haitham who admits that you deserve someone better. who resolves to be someone better.

divorced husband!al haitham who picks up that parenting book he abandoned and buys new ones because four-year-olds are different from newborn babies. people stare at him in awe when he starts attending the parenting-themed seminars, and it's like he's back in his akademiya days, taking notes and analyzing research journals.

divorced husband!al haitham who, to his previous roommate's surprise, lets himself be dragged into the 'severely unproductive' weekly tcg game meeting. he silently sits and listens to cyno unconsciously bragging about the warm home he built with his spouse, tighnari proudly retelling story after story about collei taking the lead of the forest rangers, and kaveh gushing about the love of his life.

divorced husband!al haitham who, to everyone's shock, asks for their advice on how to rebuild what he's lost, who for once listens to kaveh as he guides him to emphatize more and shows him the values of white lies when used properly, as inefficient as he though it was. soon enough it turns into a full-on lecture at one corner of lambad's tavern - tighnari had brought out a whiteboard out of nowhere, and even cyno who was at first skeptical about giving him a second chance was animatedly giving his own two mora to avoid worsening the disaster that is the scribe's love life.

divorced husband!al haitham who picks up a new pen and delicately writes a letter with the ink of your favorite color, intending to ask you to meet at the library because he wanted to "further encourage our daughter's newly-found interest in reading". he's hoping it would show his sincerity (yes, he did listen when you absentmindedly told him about your daughter on the last update meeting) and imply that he wishes to make amends (because he remembers not taking much interest in the more 'trivial' things that concerns your daughter when he should have).

divorced husband!al haitham who does not understand why you didn't reply to him, and so he proceeds to recite the letter, word-by-word, to the curious table of the same friends from a week ago, their tcg match long forgotten. kaveh throws a deck of cards at him. cyno slumps back to his chair with a steely expression, arms crossed. tighnari sighs and bemoans about how al haitham is the worst student he's ever had thus far. kaveh rubs his face with his palms - "alright. okay. alright. look. clearly one lecture isn't enough. we could just. we could try again. hey, at least he tried!"

divorced husband!al haitham who wakes up the morning after because of his doorbell, with barely two hours of sleep, coffee-less (you used to make him coffee and he does not understand what he's missing because he could never make them taste the same), grumpy (he remembers the way you would laugh and boop his nose whenever he feels like this), darkened eye bags under his hazy green eyes (which you used to try and will away with a kiss; it never worked but he wishes you were there to do it still), opening the door of his abode (the house feels far too big without you) and promptly almost collapsing from shock at the sight.

it's you.

divorced husband!al haitham who fumbles with his words; his brain isn't working properly and his composure is nowhere in sight. you're holding your daughter's hand and you're looking at him from head to toe with a frown. he asks why you were here. you tell him icily that it was your scheduled date for the usual monthly update; you thought he would have appreciated you bringing your daughter this time. his brain stops. his heart swells. his chest feels warm.

divorced husband!al haitham who invites you in and blushes when you see the remnants of last night's "lectures". kaveh's silly flowchart ('when you should shut your mouth') is still present on the whiteboard. tighnari's books about child development created little towers around the coffee table. cyno's headpiece is still lying on the sofa. and his own copious notes are all over the place.

"what kind of.... project.... are you working on, exactly?"

his brain's broca's area must have been terribly damaged from all the 'scenario exercises' kaveh put him through last night, because what was supposed to be a 'pay no mind to it, it's merely a personal interest of mine' somehow turned into a sheepishly spoken: "i wanted to become a better partner and father."

and you must have thought he was crazy, too, with that look of utter shock on your face. al haitham decides to change the subject. he sees the way your daughter is eyeing the pantry - more specifically, the cabinet that used to store her snacks, and maybe it's all the books and seminars he attended but somehow he understands.

"have you... had breakfast?"

"..... no," your tone is cold and you avert your eyes. the implication is not lost on him. you had not planned to stay for long.

"i see. would you like to procure-" he pauses, gazes towards your daughter, remembering what he read - and he drops to his knees so he can be of a similar eye level with the young child. when he speaks next his tone is higher, softer, and you almost can't believe what you're witnessing, "-would you and mommy like to get some food with daddy?"

"..... yes."

his little angel's voice is barely above a whisper and slightly unsure, but it still makes a genuine smile spread onto his lips for the first time in...... what seemed like forever. he directs his gaze up towards you, like some kind of a lost puppy seeking permission from its owner. you throw one last glance at his notes and sigh before nodding stiffly.

"alright.... you look like you badly need coffee anyway."

divorced husband!al haitham who, despite the tiredness in his bones, readily escorts the two of you out of the house after quickly scribbling a note for the three guests sleeping on a pile in the guest room.

divorced husband!al haitham who asks his daughter about where she'd like to eat and agrees immediately upon her answer despite knowing that their destination would only serve that trashy coffee he loathes with his whole life (and when you ask him again whether he's really okay with her choice, he says yes even though he wanted to say no).

divorced husband!al haitham who asks you about the latest updates on your job and tells you that he thinks it's admirable, for you to balance caring for their child while also having such a stable career (you did not express the need to be getting constructive criticism on how to further improve your career and branch out your skills, so he decides to keep his mouth shut).

divorced husband!al haitham who stumbles, trips, and is still horribly clumsy as he paves a path back to walk beside you and your daughter. but he tries. and he hopes to spend his next birthday with you, your daughter, a kitchen that looked like an oven has exploded, and a deformed cake.

and as the front door closes, the three guests high-fives each other in a small circle from behind the slightly opened door of the guest room.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea

[genericpuff]

Scamlords is at it again.

A few nights ago, there was a sudden blow-up in the /r/webtoons server showing a new announcement from Snailords -

For anyone unaware, Death : Rescheduled has been on mid-season hiatus since October. And it's now, and only now, that Snailords has suddenly decided the comic is ending after it returns, but readers can get an extra 20 episodes... if they fork over $1k in merch sales.

Now, this could be a lot worse. They could be threatening not to return to the series at all unless their readers hand over money. But considering it's practically just one degree away from that, it's still pretty nasty. Not to mention, the further they divulged in their reasoning around this "idea", the more confusing it got.

They also even revived their @snailordsrant account on IG which, for those of you who were there and can recall, was the same account they used to put one of their own fans on blast over some very mild criticism.

None of this makes any actual sense, for several reasons:

1.) I literally fail to see how getting $1k in less than 24 hours is worth shoving in an extra mini arc of 10 episodes if you don't even have it planned out. Why do that to your audience or to yourself? Why drag things out just to scrounge up an emergency $1k? Why not just be honest with your audience and run a GoFundMe or just say , "Hey everyone, I've run into some financial troubles, I would really appreciate it if you could FastPass my newest episodes or donate to my Patreon or buy some merch so I can cover the costs". It's really telling that this shithead doesn't have enough confidence in themselves or their audience that practically worships them that they have to resort to this kind of underhanded shit to get the money they need. I wanna make it clear that this is NOT like a Kickstarter stretch goal or anything that incentivizes readers to support their work, they're instead holding the length and future of their series over their audiences' head (which they've done before) for money. That's not an incentive, it's an ultimatum.

2.) Maybe I'm misreading / being stupid (someone pls explain if I'm missing something here) but I literally don't see how their comment about working 50 hours a week explains why they're suddenly getting their fans to pay out $1k worth of merch in less than 24 hours. For anyone who doesn't know, $1k per episode is an example Webtoons uses in its post discussing how they pay out creators (this came after the platform got called out 2 years ago for paying creators too little, there are undoubtedly creators getting paid less). And yet for some reason $1k is apparently the difference between 10 episodes and 20? How does that add up? And is the bit about them wanting to buy boba supposed to be a joke? Where's the punchline here?

3.) They say they have writer's block and they want to use the money to "motivate them", but then just a few slides later they say 10-15 episodes is what would make them the "happiest" so which is it? Do they want to write 10 episodes or do they want people to pay them to write 20 episodes so they can draw the fluff scenes that they apparently want to draw? If you have an ending planned out, why rush it or drag it out depending on how this "fundraiser" goes? Why not just write the ending you want to write that will serve your story best? Why shove in an extra mini arc that you don't even have full confidence in writing and then try to compare it to a "super expensive cake"? What are you doing? Speaking as someone who's had trouble getting motivated in the past, suddenly getting a month's rent worth of money to do it doesn't necessarily solve that, it just turns up the pressure, and if you're not someone who deals with pressure well, then you're more likely to wind up just burning out entirely rather than fulfilling that goal.

4.) The fact that they did, in fact, hit their goal just makes it all the shittier to think about because their audience is mostly made up of teenagers who worship the ground that they walk on. It's horrifying that they keep pulling these stunts with their audience, and getting away with it to boot - and Webtoons, as a company, keeps enabling it by allowing it to happen by hosting and promoting people like this.

Anyways, there's already a lot going on here that's sketchy, but then... they went and deleted their posts. At the time of this happening (as I was there to witness it all play out in real time) I assumed this meant that they had hit their $1k goal - especially as they had been showing their progress on their IG and they were already at $900 after just a couple hours - but it gave me a sinking feeling seeing them delete it because they had also been called out by some brave readers telling them that it wasn't exactly a good look to essentially blackmail their audience through their own content into giving them money.

Snailords deleting it gave me a stronger impression of "burying the evidence", especially now that they had the money. By all accounts, they could do whatever they wanted now.

So what did they decide to do?

. . . Huh?

Okay, take a second to actually think about what Snailords has done here. Because I know some of you will go "oh, it was for charity all along! that was nice of them!" but . . . I don't know about the legalities of collecting donation funds under false pretenses, but morally speaking, it's a really shitty thing to do. They stripped away the choices - limiting them to three - of what their readers could donate to, and what I think their readers don't understand - due to being mostly teenagers - is that they're tax-exempt individuals and they just unknowingly gave Snailords an easy $1k tax write-off. You really, really shouldn't collect donation funds like this without being honest, it's just a shitty thing to do, especially after you've already collected the money. It mostly just comes across as damage control on Snailords' part to make it seem like they were always planning to donate to charity, when in reality, if they wanted to donate to charity, they would have been honest about that at the start. Again, even if they wanted to do that from the start, it goes to show how little confidence they have in themselves or their audience that they have to stoop to methods like these instead of just doing it honestly.

And do you really think Snailords will actually do those extra episodes? Or donate that money? This is the same asshole who has manipulated their readers for money not once but twice, and now seems intent on doing it a third time just for the charm. This is the same person who practically sabotaged their own comic, Freaking Romance, because they apparently didn't like the romance genre and may as well have only done it for clout / views / etc.

What was especially odd - and I found this out from folks who actually read Death : Rescheduled (I do not) - was finding out that it wouldn't make sense for D : R to end in as many as 25 episodes, because apparently, the plot has basically just gotten going.

So it does seem like this is foreshadowing that D : R will wind up just like Freaking Romance, rushed into an ending that wasn't expected. And this, of course, has the people who read their work confused because D : R was supposed to be Snailords' passion project, their magnum opus, the project they wanted to do. So them holding the timing of an ending that shouldn't even be happening yet for ransom contradicts that original intention. Really, it just goes to show that Snailords has no passion, they're just in it purely for the money, to a degree that I can't even cheer them on for being a hustler because it's missing the honesty and integrity.

And of course, every single time Snailords finds a way to backpedal and take his audience for a ride, they hop right in without a single thought for themselves.

And no, none of this is to hate on the readers directly, I hold Snailords entirely responsible for this - they have an audience of impressionable, naive, gullible teenagers, and they know it, and take advantage of it every chance they get. It's why they weren't just honest about wanting to collect money for charity from the start. It's why they resorted to basically holding their own comic's progression for ransom during its midseason hiatus. It's why the deadline was 24 hours and why the posts are now gone.

Thankfully the Internet does what it does - any evidence that Snailords was trying to bury is now all over reddit, and hey, just for good measure, here's a post on Tumblr that's been sitting in my drafts for days now, days after people have already seemingly stopped talking about it. Don't let anyone bury or forget about the stunts Snailords is pulling on their audience, with a platform that they've been consistently given by Webtoons, because that's what they want you to do.

[jksprincess10]

Hey! I love your writings! Especially your neighbour story’s! I saw you take requests… So I have an idea. What about no-outbreak neighbour x reader. Where the reader has a dad who doesn’t care about his daughter, never was there physically. So the reader basically spend her childhood mostly at Joel’s house. He taking care of her, being supportive and all. So, as she grew older and goes to the college the atmosphere maybe changes. Like lingering touches or glances. But he always holds himself back. She works maybe as a waitress besides college to safe some money. My thought was that on his 36 birthday she throws him a big surprise party, and bought with her saved money his biggest wish. Like a new car or something. Something he always dreamed of. To thank him for basically raising her? On the party some dude flirts heavily with the reader. And Joel finally has enough of hiding, with following smut and cuteness maybe? That would be amazing. I hope it’s understandable and not to much. Take care of yourself and have a great day/night! 😊

Hii ! Thank you for your request. I wrote something inspired by it but had to change some details for realism. I also made y/n more like Sarah's best friend so it didn't feel like grooming. Hope you still like it.

Daddy issues

CW: Age difference, power imbalance, daddy issues, alcohol, oral and fingering (f receiving), jealous ! Joel, BFD ! Joel, no outbreak AU.

When you moved to Texas for your dad’s work at 12 years old, you met the Miller family which included Joel Miller, a single dad in his 30s, and his daughter, Sarah. You immediately became friends with her, and she helped you survive your new school.

Your dad was never really there, especially since your mom had abandoned your family for another man. It became even worse when you moved to Texas. He was away for days, but you were used to it. You could function like a little adult, cooking, doing laundry and cleaning. You didn’t really have a childhood.

Mr. Miller saw how often you were left alone. He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask questions, but did offer you to stay over a lot. You offered to help him cook in exchange, as he was always working late hours. He was a sweet man, who took care of his daughter and of you. Your relationship with Joel was also distant, he didn’t really know how to socialize with teenage girls like his daughter, but he was caring.

Over the years, your relationship with your dad stayed tense, and distant. But college gave you some freedom, you were legally an adult, you had a job as a waitress at a 24/7 diner. You worked insane hours to move out eventually, and also, to repay your debt to Mr. Miller. Your relationship with him had evolved over the years. With you in your 20s, and him at his 45th birthday coming up, you had developed a… crush on your best friend’s dad.

It was stupid, yes, and your daddy issues probably had something to do with it. But when he started seeing you as an adult and you started seeing him as a man, you felt some stares, lingering touches sometimes as you helped him cook diner for Sarah. You would flirt discreetly sometimes, hoping he’d notice.

Honestly, it was probably inappropriate, and you tried to push your crush away, not wanting to get him in trouble like he had groomed you. When, in contrary, he saved you and was always respectful. Sarah, of course, never knew. You had a few boyfriends and him, a few girlfriends. He was protective of you, so you never let him meet your partners.

Joel’s 45th birthday would be special. You and Sarah organized a big surprise party at your house (because your dad was gone, of course). You had spent months putting money aside to buy him a new acoustic guitar (his old one got broken by an ex… long story), and you were excited to finally give him his gift.

After your morning shift, you met Sarah at your house and finished decorating. The cake was safely stored in the fridge stocked with a lot of alcohol. You only had to wait for people to get here and for Joel to come back from work.

“I’m nervous.” said Sarah as she was hanging banners on the stairs.

“Because Joel hates surprises?” You guessed while you took care of the other side of the banner.

“Yeah… but he never does anything for himself.”

“I know. He’ll be happy.” You reassured her.

**

Family, friends and colleagues were waiting anxiously in the darkness of your home while you and Sarah welcomed Joel at his own place. You covered his eyes with a piece of fabric and you both guided him outside of the house. Your hand was latching onto the strong muscle of his bicep, which sent shivers through his body.

“I swear to God, if you two organized something for my birthday…”

“Shush, you’ll love it, dad.” Said Sarah with a smile.

SURPRISE !

He rolled his eyes once his mask was off, but his smile betrayed the annoyance he was trying to portray.

**

You ate the cake in a corner of the kitchen. There were people everywhere in the house, it was getting a bit overwhelming for you. Joel checked in on you after he was done with all the attention he was getting.

“So who’s idea was it?” He asked.

You lifted your chin to look at him with a smile, your fork playing with the white icing.

“Like I’m gonna tell you.” You responded, before stuffing the icing in your mouth.

Joel coughed awkwardly and tapped his neck nervously. He tried to ignore the way your pretty eyes looked at him suggestively while you were eating the white cream. Your eyebrow shot up as you were looking innocently at him, but you didn’t make any comment. You simply pointed your fork towards him.

“You haven’t even tasted the cake. Eat, so I can give you your gift.”

“You’re bossier than Sarah.”

“Learned from the best.”

Still, he leaned in, his mouth wrapping around the fork as he tasted the cake. You were totally staring.

“Fiinne, the cake’s good. I’ll get myself a piece. But I don’t want no gift, darlin’.”

The pet name made your chest flutter. It wasn’t the first time he called you darling, of course, but there was something more intimate in the air tonight. Like you would finally get more of him.

Joel left you, your cheeks red and your fork stuck mid-air.

**

“C’mon, open up.” You encouraged him.

Everyone was looking at him, and he hated it. But he wanted to make you smile, so he tore apart the wrapping paper that hid the big box.

“This big box and you probably gave me socks.”

“You’ll see.”

His mouth fell as he discovered the expensive acoustic guitar you had bought. For once, Joel was speechless.

“Darlin’, you shouldn’t have… You’re putting money aside for movin’ out…”

“I took more shifts. Turns out I can do both… And I really wanted to thank you properly. For always having me here when you know…. Dad…”

The word “dad” hurt. You didn’t like saying it. In your mind, you had no father figure. Joel imprisoned your body in the cage of his big arms, hugging you tight. You swore you had seen some tears in his eyes.

“I’ll always be here, darlin’.”

“I know.” You smiled and laid your head against his chest, as he kissed the top of your head.

With Sarah’s gift, a new watch, Joel was a spoiled man. The party really started after the gift exchange, everyone drank more, the older people left, and Joel tested his new guitar. Joel had lost his eternal flannel shirt somewhere and his greying curls had a mind of their own. You liked him like this, free.

You danced innocently to the beat of the 80s music that Joel liked and a few younger people joined you – cousins, colleagues’ kids you didn’t know. A tall guy, probably in his mid 20s, dark brown hair swiped to the side and green eyes, approached you. He was good-looking and seemed nice enough. You put your arms around his neck to bring him closer, your bodies following the same rhythm.

He asked for your name, said you were pretty. His name was Bryan. He was the son of one of Joel’s colleagues.

“What’re you doing after this?” He asked. You shrugged.

“No plans yet.”

Before he could ask for anything, you felt strong arms pulling you away.

“Darlin’ we need to get John’s coat upstairs, can ya help me find it?” Joel familiar accent resonated over the loud music.

“S-Sure!”

You shrugged to the stranger, and your eyes were apologizing for you.

Once in the room alone with Joel, you turned around with John’s coat in your hands.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it; it was literally at the top.” You sighed.

The older man had closed the door and he seemed like he was trying to say something, but he was held back, his mouth not making any sound.

“I didn’t like seein’ ya with Bryan. Guy’s a womanizer.” He finally said.

You frowned and crossed your arms.

“Joel, I can figure that out by myself. I’m an adult. Tell me what’s really going on.”

He got closer, his height towering over you. You looked up at him, trying to see what was going on behind those pretty chocolate eyes. His hand held the side of your face, and you felt your heart jump out of your chest.

“Can we… talk about what’s goin’ out with us?”

“Joel, you’re drunk.”

“M’not, darlin’. I’m really sober. I noticed the way you were starin’ earlier and… every day, really. Since you became a woman.”

You turned your head away.

“Fuck, I know it’s wrong.” You whispered, like the words scared you. “But I like you a lot.”

It was a confirmation for him, enough for him to take the scary jump and kiss you. You yelped, then grabbed his neck to bring his body closer to yours, tasting the hints of sweetness of the cake and the bitterness of the beer on his tongue.

“I want more, just this once. Then we don’t have to talk about it again…”

“Okay.” You simply said, breathless.

The pile of coats fell to the floor as your tangled bodies met the softness of your mattress. Joel was towering over you, his broad frame becoming your whole view. Your hands explored his biceps, as he was looking at you intensely. He tried to determine his next move.

“Can I take this off?” He asked as he pulled on the hem of your dress.

You nodded enthusiastically and helped him pull the clothing over your head. You were wearing a dusty pink laced matching set under it. It was like you intended to take someone home after this. You saw hints of jealousy in Joel’s dark eyes. You caressed his cheek and he softened under your touch.

“You intended to go home with someone tonight, darlin’? Naughty girl.”

You blushed profusely. “Let’s not talk about it…”

To focus his attention elsewhere, you helped him take off his t-shirt. You ran your fingers over his skin, exploring parts of him you had never seen before. You mostly did it to hide the shaking of your hands.

“M’gonna take good care of you, don’t worry.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

His large hand trailed down your body and caressed your wetness through your laced panties, ruining the thin fabric. You whimpered softly and grabbed onto him.

“So fuckin’ wet.”

He discarded your underwear and took in the view of your perfect cunt. His digits explored your wet folds, feeling his way to your pleasure. You squirmed a bit.

“We have to be fast, Joel, they’ll see we’re missing…”

The older man sighed. He wanted to take his time with you, but he couldn’t be greedy. He agreed and opted on plunging his head between your thighs to prepare you faster. He licked through your folds, rapidly finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. You fisted the blankets as you moaned, still trying to keep it quiet so the whole party downstairs didn’t hear you.

“I know, I know… you have to be quiet for me, baby girl.”

He held his palm over your mouth, and you nodded obediently. He kept licking at your bud enthusiastically, finding a rhythm that you enjoyed. Your thighs almost closed together, but Joel kept them apart with his free hand.

Then, he sneaked in one finger, stretching you slowly. Everything about him was big, but you tried to relax.

“Y’okay?”

You nodded.

He added another finger, as he sucked on your clit to make you think about something else than the pain. You let out a small “Fuck” under the cover of his palm. While he took care of you, you played with your breasts to get more stimulation. All the sensations drove you slowly to the edge. You had your orgasm silently, but your whole body was shaking, your back arched up. He helped you through your pleasure, before leaving your wetness. Joel put his arms around you to cuddle you as you were coming down your high.

“Don’t think I’ll be able to live without this.” You finally said as you came down from your high.

Joel smiled proudly and pressed his mouth against yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

He stopped when the door of your bedroom opened, letting in some light and noise. You hid yourself quickly with the blankets and panicked as you saw Sarah standing in the doorframe.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

Rewatching Yellow Jacket, I can't help but really appreciate how the main trio are written, especially in regards to money. I feel like the easy way to go would be to have a story about greed, forgetting where you came from, ego, blah blah blah. That's the cliche cake you get from the ingredients set up in the first act. But I really, really love that they didn't go that way. Hannah doesn't want money for luxury. She won't say no to it, but her primary motivation is entirely about making Lex happy. There's no bullshit about how money can't buy happiness, because it kind of can. Not happiness directly, but it can sure as fuck buy security, stability, and resources. Ethan has never seen anything close to 100k in his life. And then what they do with a quarter of it is, objectively, irresponsible. Because they're still kids. What would be treated as frivolous in a less compassionate story is vital to these characters. They buy games and toys and ice cream, fill the house with arcade cabinets and a bounce house. Ethan gets so excited that he forgets to get a bed for himself and Lex, but he gets Hannah an extravagant water bed because he loves the kid with all his heart.

Lex has been working shitty minimum wage jobs since she was 16. She had to drop out of high school because she literally couldn't afford to not work for those 8 hours a day. She takes all the hours she can get, she sells whatever she can get her hands on, she takes the consequences onto herself, she takes the snide remarks, she takes the verbal abuse, she takes all of it because she refuses to let Hannah suffer the way Pam did. The hyper-awareness of money bleeds over to Hannah too, no matter how much Lex tries to protect her from it. She knows that a child should never have to worry about bills and medical expenses and if food is gonna be on the table tomorrow, and she doesn't want Hannah to feel the same anxieties that she does. But still, this kid, on her birthday, sees a tablet she could win, and her first thought is that she could sell it. Because fun is a luxury, and she knows it.

So Ethan blowing 25k on games and pizza and candy- it's not silly to them. It's not frivolous. He's giving them both, but especially Lex, the childhood that was taken from them. That was taken by late stage capitalism, and poverty, and a school system that let them slip through the cracks, and an abusive, negligent parent. It's not the most responsible thing in the world, but it's not about the games or the junk food. It's about the ability to eat the junk food and have time to play the games. It's about Lex not having to feel guilty for spending the day with her sister when she could be working. It's about being able to stay up late for Hannah's 15th birthday, because she doesn't have to take a shift the next day. It's about having the time and energy to study and pass the test without entirely burning herself out and hurting the people around her. It's about these three people finally, finally having the resources to feel real, safe, full joy in their lives, and more.

Thank you for joining me on this week's episode of Why This Scene Of Two Twenty-Somethings Sleeping In A Bounce House Made Me Cry, and now back to Dan with the weather-

[kazuko-stuff]

Watching Ghibli movies with the batboys

**This is my first time writing for DC btw. Give me ideas for later ficus

Watching Ghibli movies with the Batboys

Dick Grayson

Enjoys watching movies with anyone really

Will enjoy watching Ghibli movies without a doubt

You introduce him to Castle in the Sky first to watch

He worries for Sheeta as she fell in the sky from the air ballon from her captures and pirates

Breathes in relief when her amulet helps her floats down and is found by Pazu

He is drawn to the world building of the story and relates to Pazu, in regards to his antics and willingness to protect Sheeta because she reminds him of you.

Is very curious about the lore of Laputa island after learning the story behind the mythical island and aetherium.

He finds the Dola’s pirate gang funny and is happy they are willing to help the two escape from Muska’s army.

Again he is amazed by the world building when he sees Laputa island and loves the detail of the robots.

Angry that Muska appears and how he abuses his powers and knowledge to hurt people

Is happy that Sheeta understands why the people of Laputa fled from the island and she and Pazu uses the amulet’s power to finish Muska once and for all

If you continue watching more ghibli movies, he will most likely buy a big Totoro plush for both of you to cuddle on

Would sing the Ponyo song to annoy his family and friends and to sing in the shower

Wants to visit Japan to see the places that were inspired by real life places

Admits the food is very mouthwatering and enjoys when the protagonist have meals with loved ones

Jason Todd

at first didn’t seem interested but you give big puppy eyes for him to give in

Was instantly amaze of the story telling of the movie and will geek of the world building due to how immersive the movies are

Will have a hard time having a picking a favorite due to good the storytelling is but if he has one favorite at of all it will be Spirited Away

He gets goosebumps when the spirit bathhouse town gets more active and worries on how Chihiro will get out and save her parents.

He likes to make analysis of the movies after watching them and watches analysis videos on YouTube.

Acknowledges that Yubaba and the other workers get on his nerves because it reminds him of his childhood.

Starts to find wonder the meaning behind Chihiro’s name being taken away and being changed to ‘Sen’ and her first meeting with Haku when she was very little

He notices how Chihiro has changed a lot from the beginning and how it reminds him of himself

He was cheering for Chihiro doing the scene when she was helping the river spirit get clean but wondered what that rice herb cake was for.

He cries at the scene when Haku comforts Chihiro when she was crying and eating onigiri because he knows she being through so much at her age just to save her loved ones

(Btw you made onigiri and bought konpeito)

Shock when Haku has a dragon form and was injured but was relieved when he managed to get healed due to the medicine she gotten from the river spirit

When he sees the bath workers blaming Sen for No-Face’s rampage, he grumbled how it was their fault for indulging and encouraging bad behavior, since he feels ‘No-Face’ is a blank state.

He admits Boh the baby is annoying but doesn’t blame him for being spoiled since his mom is at fault and enjoys that Haku had enough of Yubaba.

Feels at peace in the train scene

Likes Zeniba’s cottage due to how simple and comfy it is to live in.

It reminds him of Alfred and his aura

Happy tears when she and Haku reunited And when Chihiro remembers her first encounter with Haku and his original name

Admits he found Boh less annoying as he grows as a person and stands up for Chihiro against his mom.

Happy that Chihiro manages to save her parents but is sad that an adventures comes to an end

Likes to cook food based on the Ghibli movies since it always has a warm feeling and you're the taste tester.

If he has a stressful day, he likes to listen to ghibli music to remind himself being peace at oneself

Wants to go to a hot spring in Japan at one point

Tim Drake

Decides to watch after seeing hearing it from a group of friends and your big Totoro plush

Like the rest of the batfam, he enjoys the world building and the characters in the Ghibli movie

He would get the foreshadowing and enjoys watching analysis of the movies

He writes analysis and the message based of the symbolism and Japanese mythology

He knew Chihiro almost lost her identity when Yubaba stole her name and figured out what happened to Haku, after seeing the conditions of the bathhouse workers.

His favorite character is Howl from Howl's Moving Castle

He loves how all the characters in the movie are alive and likes the fire spirit

He enjoys how magical the scene was when Howl was flying in the sky with Sophie

He enjoys the banter between Sophie and Howl over hair products that cause his hair to change color

He loves Sophie’s new outfit at the end of the movie

Bought a necklace based off of Howl’s necklace and one time tried to cosplay as him to attend a con with him without his brothers knowing

His likes how steampunk is portrayed in the ghibli movies and enjoys learning more about Japanese culture and mythology

Would likely to go to ghibli events with you

Damian Wayne

after first thought it was going to be boring since he thinks it’s childish but immediately hooked up when he saw the animation of the movies

He decides to watch most of the movies with you when he is in house arrest from patrol

He likes Princess Mononoke movie and My Neighbor Totoro

He enjoys how San is a no-nonsense person and acknowledges she should fight back to defend her home

He somewhat wonders if Poison Ivy is like this because she just wants to defend the environment since San wants to protect the forest, seeing that she is angry at those who is destroying the environment

He secretly likes to watch My Neighbor Totoro and Ponyo with you and his family

He loves the animals in the Ghibli movies

Wishes to ride Moro and wants a pet wolf along with a fish name Ponyo

Ponyo movie inspires him to clean up local beaches

He would want to ride the Catbus from Totoro

Buys ghibli plushies for his collection

He starts to paint background from the movies due to how beautiful they were

He would visit Japan to see the places that set the inspiration for the movie and the Ghibli cafe theme events

[songmingisthighs]

Oddeleny

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xxx - peeking

ghost!yeosang × reader

genre : ghost!au

wc : 1.6 k

rating, warning : mature; crude jokes and filthy language, depiction of an accident; electrocution, head injury

buy me coffee ?

a connection once had, broken with the expectation that the ending is final. but life has an odd proclivity of making attachments from detachments. in the end, we don't know what we lost until we look at what we have

For a moment the room was quiet and cold.

Mingi had come in with cake and coffee and you both had been silently taking a bite, waiting for the other person to talk. Well, the people who could talk at least. You didn't realize it but you kept glancing at your phone, worried that Yeosang might accidentally make a noise as you had put him on a call.

"Waiting for someone?" Mingi asked after taking a sip of his latte.

You shook your head and offered him a polite smile, "Nope, just don't want anyone to disturb us while we talk," and you cleared your throat, deciding that you should be the one who directed the conversation, "And I guess we should start talking now." Agreeing, Mingi straightened up and nod, "If you don't mind, I would like for you to explain your side first. Not because of anything, but I would like to get all of the information so I can process my feelings accordingly with the information I will reveal." He sounded so stocky and it made you crack a grin because he didn't sound like his usual self while simultaneously being his absolute genuine self, someone who is just curious.

"Fair enough," you agreed, taking a moment to think where you should start your story.

"So you know that I grew up with Wooyoung and I befriended Yeosang in middle school. It was safe to say I was one of the less popular crowd because I was trying to excel in school in hopes that my parents would give a shit about me if I had an achievement of my own. I didn't realize then that no matter how many prizes I won for math, science, art, debate, English, and more, they would simply not care because I'm not Wooyoung, the child they actually want and the child who's actually theirs. They didn't want me so much that they just pawned me off to my grandma and took Wooyoung to wherever he wanted so it became GLARINGLY obvious they didn't care about my existence at all. So I was bullied and while Wooyoung was a bystander, at age 9, he suddenly turned on me and joined in on the bullying, even giving ammunition, leading the bullying, and sending people at me. I don't know what changed but I do know that when we got to middle school, he became more vicious because I got close to Yeosang. See, Wooyoung wanted to befriend Yeosang because everyone likes Yeosang. I befriended Yeosang because we're the top 2 in the high-achieving class and this pissed Wooyoung off because he couldn't get to the same class because all of his work, all of his tests were copies of mine. So he became resentful of me and my parents allowed it. One day, sometimes during gym class, Yeosang came up to me and asked for my water because he had finished his and couldn't bear the walk to refill his water so I did, I gave him my water bottle and he downed it in one go. I didn't think much of it but not even 15 minutes later, while we were resting by the court, Yeosang fell to the ground looking pale and clammy, he was shivering and he was crying saying that his stomach was hurting so he was rushed to the hospital and I went with him. While he was being treated, I was suddenly called out and brought back to school, to the principal's office where I was informed that Yeosang had gotten alcohol poisoning from my water bottle. Long story short, I was told that Yeosang no longer felt safe with having me around the school and I was expelled within a day."

Mingi didn't even try to hide the surprised look on his face. His jaw was practically on the ground by the time you told him how you got expelled so easily. "Wait, they can't just expel you like that without any evidence," he was getting emotionally involved. Mingi didn't like hearing injustice in general and hearing what happened to you made his blood boil. You shrugged, a little too casually for someone who was retelling her shitty past, but at that point, you had to shield yourself from feeling the negativities all over again. "There were eyewitnesses around, everyone saw me handing him my water bottle before he dropped to the ground so it seemed like the case was clear. To them at least. I tried pleading my case, I tried telling them that I knew nothing but they wouldn't hear. Not even my parents. In fact, My dad dragged me to the hospital to face the Kangs, well Yeosang's parents at least because apparently Yeosang was terrified of me, and forced me to bow and apologize. Then that evening he kicked me out of his house without saying anything else and I cried in front of the gate for a solid two hours before giving up and leaving to go to my grandma's by myself."

You didn't realize how it happened but Mingi pulled you into an immediate hug, his body shaking from anger because he couldn't help but think of the younger version of you being treated worse than trash by the adults in your life.

"Thank God you're okay now," he said in a whispered tone. It surprised you because you had imagined that Mingi would be siding with Yeosang and Wooyoung despite saying that he trusted that each story has two versions. You absolutely thought that he would simply accept that there was your side that he could hear if he wanted to but not to this extent, not him taking your pain personally. It didn't even occurred to you that you shed a tear or two, or five until Mingi pulled back and frantically trying to reach the tissue on your desk.

"Yeosang's situation was odd even to the police," Mingi started, knowing that it was his turn to talk without having to be urged by you.

After wiping your tears, you cleared your throat and prepare yourself to listen to what Mingi had to say.

"They were suspicious of the circumstances because Yeosang was admitted due to electrocution but they couldn't figure out the head injury he sustained. The doctors analyzed him and declared that Yeosang sustained the injury before he was electrocuted, so it wasn't like he banged his head due to being electrocuted. Heck, they even found where Yeosang injured his head and it wasn't the ground, it was the wall. They theorized that Yeosang must not have completely lost his consciousness and was trying to get up only to electrocute himself on the open wires dangling by the electricity pole."

Your head was trying to make sense of things but instead of getting answers, it generated more questions. "Couldn't he have fallen or slipped or something?" you questioned and Mingi nodded firmly, "That's what they think. Based on the height of the area where they found the trace of impact, it seemed possible that Yeosang had slipped and hit his head. But it still doesn't answer a crucial question, why was Yeosang in the alley in the first place? His car was on the left side of the building and the alley was on the right side, logically speaking, Yeosang had no business being there unless maybe he was urinating in public or something but we all know Yeosang would never do that. He wouldn't even chew gum in public places." You may no longer know Yeosang, but you knew him enough to agree with Mingi.

Then another question popped into your head, "Well were there CCTV around? They must've seen something," "They're still trying to get the footage from the establishments around but the thing is, the police are not even investigating this properly, Yeosang's situation is not a priority so they've just been passively looking things over." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and disbelief, "That makes no sense, they agreed that the circumstances were suspicious so why wouldn't they do anything?" "According to them, while it is suspicious, there were no evidence of foul play so they can't really do anything because, and i quote this directly from them, "there are more pressing cases they need to pursue", whatever the hell that means," Mingi huffed annoyedly.

Sure, you wanted to be as objective and as detached as you could towards the issue as this involved Yeosang, the same person who was part of the worst pain you've ever felt in your life. But you couldn't help but feel frustrated over the situation. You'd like to believe that it must have been because it would probably mean that you would be involved for longer than necessary. But you knew yourself well enough to acknowledge that the human side of you was trying to protest the unfairness.

"Hey," Mingi called out after a long pause, catching your attention. "I... This might mean nothing but I want you to know that I believe your side, I trust you," he looked abashed saying that and to be fair, Mingi didn't even know why he said that. What he knew was that you had been hurt by enough people, even people who were supposed to be your family. He didn't realize how much his consideration meant to you. Though you barely knew him, he had proven himself to be a trustworthy person who is capable of finding his own truth. So you gave him a small smile and reached forward to pat the back of his hand gently, "It means a lot to me, Mingi. Thank you," and Mingi, in return, broke out into a big smile.

Truly if life had taught you anything even after the worst of rain came down, completely drenching you and ruining your whole day, the sun will come out. It might take some time, and it might be infuriatingly slow, but it will. So with a glance at your strategically placed phone, you could only hope that your faith would not be shaken because boy oh boy it's going to be one heck of a rain.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@luvt0kki @aestheticsluut @stayatinykatsy @miaatiny @yukichan67 @maidens-world @wlv-asteria @bee-the-loser @junstulip @keinskpopcorner @donghyuckanti27 @axo-l0tl @aurora-tiny @cyber-innie @oddracha @dinossaurz @vcutparis @redzie02 @blackb3ll @mizumigi @jan-l @zoro-nanami-wifey @charreddonuts @angelicyeo @green-agent @teenyfinds @gxlden-bxbyy @that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict @tinyelfperson @jenowithjaem @mayonnaisehoeshit @allisonleannn @raspberrysannie @surveilenceysystem @borahae-reads @watanabehan @boo-ven9eance @cosmolight @ateezourstars @potatos-on-clouds @iinsomiac

@starjoongie1117 @rheriver

[rogerswifesblog]

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @jamneuromain here’s a little gift for you. I hope you’ll enjoy the first one shot of the little kinda series. It was supposed to be a one shot but I didn’t finish it on time so…now it’ll be a two/three chapter series! I hope you’re enjoying your birthday. I wish you the best. I won’t specify what exactly because everything what happens should be the best! Meet the best people, make the best memories and the best experiences!!!!

Between the bookshelves

My Masterlist

A/N: it’s not beta read:) there’ll be mistakes, be prepared:)

Pairing: Mob Ari Levinson x bookshop/café owner reader

Series Summary: You’re a small-town-girl living in a big city, owning her own (somewhat successful) book- and coffee-shop, a dream you had been following for years. Some of the books are little works of your own, but nobody really knew it and nobody really read them, being just small stories between bestselling novels.

And yet there was a specific client that couldn’t put down your books.

The Saturday mornings were mostly quiet and got a bit more busy in the noon, where people start waking up or curing their hangovers-for some reason you had noticed everyone liked doing it in your little coffee shop. The quiet atmosphere, smell of coffee, cake and books was calming for the people. It was just good for their headaches. Just some time to themselves. Just some…peace. That’s how you could describe your shop. Peaceful.

Most of the time they would buy a coffee, maybe a sandwich or something sweet and would sit for a while, sometimes with their headphones on, sometimes with their eyes closed or other times watching the people walk past the windows.

You enjoyed watching people.

The older people that came by because your place had an older aesthetic, the walls made from old brick stone, the shelves and tables dark wood, the couches, loveseats, armchairs and chairs all being rather vintage than modern. Always ordering the apple pie from your grandma’s recipe. Could they taste like it was an old recipe? Did it taste differently from the other pies?

You also liked watching the business people rolling their eyes during calls or while typing something on their laptops. It was really entertaining. You also always gave them a free muffin if they spilled their coffee on some (probably important) documents.

So to say, everyone liked coming here, for whatever reasons. Maybe to drink your coffee, maybe to have some peace or forget what was happening in their busy lives, instead wanting to escape in one of the books. In your cafe was everything possible, they could just drink their coffee and enjoy some snacks or disappear in a fantasy world with witches, mermaids and vampires or into a simple romance or thriller. Whatever they wanted.

And then there was him.

He came here to see you smile. To hear your voice. To get to know you.

But until now he never actually spoke to you. Not unless it was to tell you his order.

And that’s it.

Ari was the head of the mob and yet he got cold feet when it came to talking to a pretty girl.

Usually he had no problems with talking to women, even targets or other dealers but you ... .it's like he was his teenage self again (or even worse, because he actually wasn’t that nervous back then.)

He didn’t want to mess it up too soon, since you seemed like a very nice person and probably wouldn’t approve of his work. So he wanted to show you his best side-even though he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hide his true identity.

And more important, how long he’d manage to keep you safe. That was his biggest concern. That’s also why he didn’t know if he should approach you.

For now it was enough to sit in your café and watch you from afar. Like a total creep.

Ari sighed, hitting his forehead on the table with a quiet thud. What the hell was he doing? He was making a total fool of himself? He’d now go to the counter and ask for your number.

Determined he stood up and did as planned. “Hi, may I ask for-“ “Y/N, the muffins are ready!”, shouted someone from what he assumed was the kitchen. You smiled apologetically. “Give me a minute”, with that you disappeared for a moment, coming back with a plate filled with muffins.

A bright smile crept once again onto your lips when you saw the beautiful stranger still waiting at the counter. He was one of your regulars and yet you never catched his name. Nor anything else beside his usual order. “Another cappuccino?”, you saw him opening his mouth, before nodding. “Yeah, another cappuccino, thank you”, he smiled, brushing his hair behind his ear before taking out his card.

He definitely noticed the muffin decorated with heart sprinkles to his coffee, that he hadn’t ordered. Also, he got your name. This was more than he had actually expected.

And this muffin definitely meant something, right?

You watched him for a second from behind the counter, before needing to go clean up a table. You hoped he had seen the number written on the handkerchief.

He didn’t. He threw it away.

But you didn’t know that. You imagined he threw it away on purpose. Maybe he felt awkward? Or even uncomfortable? God, you have messed up. What if he’d never come back again?

Sighing you looked out of the window imagining the beautiful man talking to you about something different than just his usual order.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks Ari couldn’t go to your café and it made him crazy. Even though he didn’t know you, he missed your sweet smile. The słuchały oversized pink hoodie you liked wearing, especially when it was a bit colder, how you always wore your hair in a bun or ponytail, showing off your beautiful rosy cheeks. The way your eyes lightened up when you talked to him-he didn’t know if it was something that happened with every customer, but he liked imagining this sparkle was just for him.

Maybe it was.

Maybe it wasn’t.

But he hoped it was.

When the quiet bell sounded as he entered the café you lifted your head, having been caught up in messaging someone while there was some quiet time in the shop. There were only a few customers busy with eating and drinking, some others reading some books.

He walked up to the counter, opening his mouth to greet you, but his voice broke when he saw your slightly rosy cheeks, the soft smile on your lips. “Hello, the usual?”, you smiled at him, making him even more speechless so he just nodded.

For fucks sake what was happening to him. How the hell could you make him speechless with just a smile even though he was able to talk to twenty men with guns in hands and files longer than some restaurant menus.

Sighing, he walked to his usual table, hanging off his jacket over the chair before walking to the shelves, looking for a new book.

He found one about a complicated love story between a college student and her professor, from what he could read in the summary-but it wasn’t the plot that surprised him.

It was your picture.

You were the author.

Ari immediately took it and walked with it over to his table where he immediately started reading. He wasn’t really into romance stuff, but it was your book. It was a piece of you, in a way, and he wanted to know something about you. About the relationship you seek, the gestures that made your breath hitch and what made your heart flutter.

So he started reading.

Within a few pages he was already pulled into the story, completely losing himself in the story, interested in the problematic relationship the main characters had. Just when the main character was supposed to meet with her professor you walked up to his table with a coffee and muffin that he hadn’t ordered.

When he looked up at you and slightly closed the book you could see he was reading your book. Your cheeks turned a dark red color. Usually it wouldn’t matter who read your book but him-not him. He wasn’t supposed to know about the things you liked, about your desires and-about your sexual preferences! Jesus. Maybe he hadn’t read who the author was?

At this point you’d rather just go to bed and never leave it again. Like, really, never.

Sighing you walked back behind the counter, not noticing the lingering gaze on you.

Three hours later, Ari was still busy with the book. At this point the story was so addictive he couldn’t put it down. The main character was a total sweetheart and the professor-god what a dick he was. Such a liar. Even though he had already messed up once, he didn’t tell his lover he still had a wife. Okay, yes, they were divorcing soon but still-he should’ve told his girlfriend about it. It’s a detail you should mention. Preferably from the beginning and not letting the girlfriend find out because the wife walked into his apartment?? Jesus!

He scoffed at the book and wanted to turn the page when his phone rang. “Levinson”, he listened to his friend about having found out who had stolen guns and other weapons from him. Ari could tell his frown deepened with every second, the vein on his forehead already pulsing from anger. Fury, even. He tried to be a good man. Really. Holding back all the time-but having one of his men betray him…this was too much. It was-

“Do you want a refill?” Your sweet voice interrupted his racing thoughts, his nerves immediately calming down, the frown disappearing. Instead a smile reappeared on his lips. “I can’t. I have to go and get some …business stuff done”, he said, already standing up. It was the first time you two were so close to each other.

His Perfume smelled overpowering, but in a surprisingly good way. It made you crave this man even more than before. The smell was just heavenly. You couldn’t stop yourself from breathing it in deeply, nearly closing your eyes to enjoy it for a bit longer but instead you looked into Ari’s bright eyes. He was taller than you, bigger than you. He towered over you, but you didn’t feel threatened. You felt safe.

Fuck. Your crush was turning into something much worse.

Little did you know that’s exactly what Ari thought too.

It’s not really unusual for him being taller or bigger than someone, but with you it’s like something inside him awoke. The need to keep you close. Keep you safe. He knew how dangerous the world could be, especially for a woman like you. But he could take care of you.

He’d love to wrap his arms around you, bury his nose against your neck and inhale your sweet smell, feel your soft skin…

He had it bad. So, so bad.

A last smile crept onto his lips before he grabbed his jacket and walked over to the door, looking once again back at you meeting your gaze. You blushed at that, making Ari’s heart pound.

He’ll ask for your number. Next time when he’ll be here.

But he didn’t. The next time, two days later, he just drank his coffee and read the book. Ari was Never this curious about a book but yours was just…incredible. The love story, the whole plot. Unbelievable. And also…thinking you had such a…interesting view of sex made him curious if you’d do the things in real life, too.

Were you into the same things as the main character? Spanking? Dom and sub dynamics in real life? Being called a good girl? Fuck, he really tried not to think about these things at night. (He failed sometimes.)

“Would you like some apple pie?”, you sweet voice made him lift his head. “Oh, sure, how much-“ “no, no, that’s on the house…it’s a gift. From me.” Your gentle tone made his heart throb, while he nodded. “Thank you.”

While he watched you walk away he wasn’t sure what to do next. You were such a kind and sweet person. And he was…he wasn’t good. Far from that, actually. You two couldn’t be more different. While you were a gentle soul that gave away the food that was left after a shift to the homeless, he was capable of torturing people without blinking an eye. He was cruel, cold and furious.

He wasn’t good enough for you. He knew. And he knew he’d only make your life miserable and dangerous. Maybe he already did with spending so much time at your café. Your worlds were too far from each other for you to date. Or even be friends.

“Here you go-enjoy”, once again did your voice pull him out of his thoughts-and a gentle touch on his shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Fuck. It just slipped. From all the reading-he forgot. It was unbelievable how your whole being influenced his behavior, how you were able to make him forget about his whole being.

Just when he wanted to apologise a shy but bright smile formed on your lips, a slight blush slowly creeping over your cheeks. Without saying anything else you squeezed his shoulder for a second before stepping away from his table, being called over by an older couple.

Even though he really wanted to read more, his phone was getting blow up with messages about the recent thefts. They knew who caused them but not where he was hiding. The fact that it was one of his men still angried him, even more because nobody could find him.

But he needed the stolen things back. ASAP. Otherwise even he could get in trouble-which didn’t happen often.

He looked at the pie, smiling as he noticed the little heart you had drawn with whipped cream. The thought of not being able to have you made his heart crumble a little.

Why couldn’t he be just a simple man with a simple life?

Because he liked the luxurious life he had.

But maybe he could try the simple way of living for once?

Oh who was he lying to, everyone he knew would say he’d never have a standard live. He liked having an expensive car, the newest phone, eating out especially in nice restaurants or nice vacations somewhere far away.

He was curious about what you liked. Maybe he could invite you to his favourite restaurant? Seeing you in a elegant long dress, your beautiful neck exposed…maybe covered in some little hickeys, marks ... ..or maybe a simple and decent day collar. Just a neck with a little ring…only the people involved would understand-and maybe some people would even compliment your necklace, not knowing what it meant.

Ari’s whole chest tingled with need.

But he didn’t want to destroy your life by pulling into the mess he was in.

Sighing he took a little bite from the pie, immediately closing his eyes in pleasure. It tasted incredible. Perfect even.

He hadn't had such a good pie in a long time.

Ari ate the pie within a few minutes, not having enough time to eat in peace since his phone was ringing all the time.

Once again when he left he could feel your lingering gaze on his back.

Next time. He’d talk to you next time.

You promised the same thing to yourself…and your best employee-well, best friend, because she couldn’t handle listening to your venting about Ari anymore.

This time he couldn’t come to your café for over two weeks, since he was after Alex, the thief. And he didn’t have much time to relax. Especially not in your café, also he didn’t want to come closer in case someone was following him-which he believed was possible seeing what was happening.

But he really missed you, even though you hadn’t had a real conversation yet. It’s just…your smile could brighten his mood, it didn’t matter how bad the day was.

When he finally visited your place again the first thing he noticed was how your frown disappeared and how you leaned over the counter slightly. “Hello! Long time no see”, you grinned at him.

Ari chuckled at your enthusiasm, immediately feeling how your presence cheered him up. “Yeah I had a lot of stuff going on…it’s complicated. I’m just glad I can finally drink a coffee here…sit, enjoy the atmosphere here…it’s probably the only place where I feel like I can forget about the whole mess with-…you know, life”, he mumbled, shaking his head slowly.

When he took out his wallet your hand touched his and you slowly pushed it away. “It’s fine, this one's on me…maybe we could…sit a bit together? Talk?”, you smiled gently, seeing how the gears in the man’s head started doing their job.

“Sounds very nice, yes. I’d love to sit and talk a bit…”, he didn’t sound entirely sure about it, but you believed him anyway. Maybe he really had a bad day. “Perfect, then you can go sit down and I’ll be with you in a minute.”

After he did what said you started preparing the coffees and a piece of brownie for each. He’d definitely like it. At least you hoped he would.

“I’m pretty sure we never really introduced-I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”, when you finally sat down Ari turned his phone around so the screen wouldn’t be visible. You really hoped he wasn’t hiding a wife or kid. Or both? Let’s not be paranoid…but still…

Ari smiled at you, pushing his phone even further away. It’s not like you’d grab it and read his messages? This guy was a bit suspicious…but you knew not to judge a book by its cover. “I’m Ari, it’s nice to meet you. I wanted to talk to you for a while now…I couldn’t never really get myself to do it”, he chuckled, making you unintentionally but your lip a bit.

Did it mean he liked you just as much as you liked him?

“I’m glad. I was curious if we’d ever say more to each other than your usual order”, your words made him chuckle again and he shook his head a bit. “Yeah that…I don’t really like changes and besides, your coffee is really good. When I find a place I like, I don’t like changing things.” Ari took a sip from his coffee to prove his point-and once again the coffee was as good as always.

He noticed how seemingly pleased you were with this simple compliment. Wasn’t it obvious how good everything here was? Especially the barista…which he wouldn’t say out loud, but he’d think about it.

“What will happen to them? Will they have a Happy End?” Ari lifted the book he had once again taken from the shelf. One of your first pieces you had tried to write and actually finish. But you were still slightly insecure sometimes-especially when the person reading was someone you’d rather like to impress.

You shrugged slowly, a teasing smirk creeping over your lip. “I guess you’ll have to come here often and finish it yourself. I won’t spoil the ending for you. What’s the fun in reading it then?” Ari shook his head amused.

“I rather like knowing what’s coming, you know? To prepare myself for it, the same in real life-especially my business. It sucks to know that you’re being lied to”, he had no idea why he was telling you this but it felt good. It’s like his heart was speaking for him, even though his brain was screaming at him to shut up and preferably leave you alone.

But he listened to his heart, for once. He wanted to listen to his heart this one time.

You placed your hand over his, squeezing gently. “I understand. It must be hard having someone close betray you…if I may ask, what did he do? And where do you two work?”, you asked. Curiosity was never your best trait, but to your defence ari was the one speaking about it first. You had the right to ask…right?

Ari stilled for a second, looking down at his phone, then his coffee, hands, back at his phone and finally back at you. “It’s office work, but I can’t tell you much more about it”, you could tell he was lying right to your face.

Did you care about it? Did you see the red flags and decided to ignore them?

Nobody ever said you always made the right choices.

“I understand. Still sucks being lied too by someone important”, you squeeze his hand again.

At least he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Maybe this weird gut feeling was from nervousness and not…something else. He seemed like a nice and charming guy.

On the other hand…

So did Ted Bundy.

You quickly shook those thoughts away…for now.

To your surprise you two talked for nearly two hours, before the café started to be flooded by customers and you had to go back to work. Ari left you his number, telling you to call him when you’d need any help…or just to talk.

Happily you enjoyed the rest of the shift, already thinking about texting Ari later in the evening.

Thank you for reading!

I Hope you liked it! Let me know! Support your content creators by reblogging and leaving feedback:)

Taglist: @magnificentsaladllama @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @lilsiz

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

More Vampire au but with Naib (yes you getting your man but it not on Matty's birthday BONK BONK lol)

Ngl i like the idea of reader overworks and naib has a sweet tooth (i love lemon cake and lemon pie buy me kofi so i can buy cake)

You are quiet as he gazes for an instant before he takes your hand and guides it, placing it on a scar on his torso, a small gash between his rib that ends towards the center of his stomach. Like you, he was a soldier, and like you, his body tells a story of another life that has left plenty of scars both visible and invisible. He shares them with you just as he shares his body with you. Intimacy is not the same as having sex, sex is sex that can lack care; intimacy is different for him. It requires care, it requires time, and it requires his mind to be present in the moment.

“Tell me.” You say.

He tells you the story of the first scar. 

Your hand is moved to another scar, this time in the center a few circular scars that look like bullet wounds.

“Tell me.” You say again.

The stories he shares with you are in great detail, and those scars are fading as time goes on, Naib Subedar remembers them as if they are fresh.

This goes on for an hour or so before he kisses you. A sweet one that lingers both in sensation and the taste of him on your tongue. Lemon, he must have had the lemon cake you made him before this, that makes you smile. Naib Subedar is a bit of a romantic when it comes to these things, kissing you to the point of leaving you dizzy, his hands on your face keeping you in place. Your hands on his waist, gripping his toned body from years of mercenary work and now years of him keeping his body in shape.

Old habits, he always remains sharp.

When leads you to his bed, you sit on his lap facing him, your tailcoat and dress shirt taken off with care and kisses on your shoulder and neck. He worships you first, giving thanks as always before taking.

You appreciate that, it is sweet of him.

His bite is quick, like an effective stab, he finds his spot on your neck and quickly bites down so you do not experience the pain too much. He would rather you feel good than be hurt.

Even if you can heal from any harm, no one wants to see you hurt.

You keep yourself steady by holding his biceps, his arms wrapping around your waist as he feeds from you. Naib Subedar only takes enough to satisfy his hunger, the rest he drinks bloodwine or eats the specially made meats.

He is efficient when it comes to his needs, any of them.

“Naib Subedar.” Saying his full rank as he finishes and cleans his mess.

“Yeah?” His body is warm now, usually, he is given his ingestion of blood regularly thus keeping him at a minimum lukewarm rather than cold, “Willing to give more?”

“Slowly.”

“Alright, don't push yourself.” The mercenary carefully turned and laid you down on the bed, “Let me do the work.”

“I can—”

“Let me spoil you for a bit.” You do a lot for those in the Desaulnier manor, more than you think or care to admit. Joseph tries, at times with no grace, to tell you to step back but you always take on the work of twelve or more people. You saved most of the vampires here and assisted in providing a haven for those who were lost in the darkness. The hunter becoming a shepherd, Naib Subedar respected you for finding your path.

“If you must insist.” Chuckling as your pants are taken off after your shoes and socks. “Did you like the lemon cake?”

“I did.” Kissing your knee, “You've gotten better at making it, thank you.” Because he knows that is for him. You always go up and beyond yourself to provide for everyone creature comforts in the manor; everyone sees it and everyone knows you are too stubborn to be stopped.

You lay there being adored, he knows what you like by now and how to have you gripping the sheets in minutes. To say his rank over and over, to have your back arching, body writhing, and your heart racing.

Just as you spoil him, he spoils you tenfold plus interest. If Norton was here with him, that would be the extra interest with the bonus of having either of watching you being fucked by the other.

You are rather a sight to see and the other is very handsome while keeping up with you.

“Naib Subedar, I swear you are too good at this!”

“Learned from the best.”

“Me or Norton?”

He does not verbally answer you but the cheeky smile he gives you from between your legs is telling enough.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Carnival Games

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

Summary: Based off this lovely request about Dex impressing his North Star by winning a bunch of carnival games. Your boyfriend is the best sniper and he takes that skill to the carnival.

Genre: FLUFF. So much fluff that I really wish Dex had this love in his story *heart clutch*

Words: 2.5k

A/N: This was so fun to write, also the ending might be REALLY CHEESY but IDC, Dex fluff is so fun and cute I was literally giggling writing this lol Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you love it! <3

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the intense training he did in Quantico or if it was simply just because of his nerves, but Dex could never fully be relaxed no matter what environment he surrounded himself in. Even at home, he was always on high alert. Checking windows, making sure his curtains completely covered them. It was second nature for him to grab the knife he kept under his pillow when he heard a strange noise down the hall. It was second nature for him to scan any crowd and look for potential threats. 

So being surrounded by loud noises, flashing lights and the smell of funnel cakes wafting in the air was definitely a less-than-ideal situation for him to be in. He’d never willingly go to a carnival—in fact, he’d rather go through the intense training he did when he first started at the FBI than buy a ticket to go to a place like this. The only reason he was here now, surrounded by these squished crows and children running, people on dates and families—God, that was the worst to see—was because of you. You were the only person he would let succumb him to this kind of torture. And you had no idea. 

At least Dex had the option to wear his baseball cap tonight. It somewhat helped in blocking out the crowds but at the same time, he needed to see everyone at every angle. Most importantly, he needed to see you. You were practically dragging him through the crowds, holding on tightly to his hand, looking back every once in a while to make sure he was okay. Overall, Dex wasn’t okay, but the moments you gave him your attention, he somewhat was. Everything around him became white noise when he focused on you. He longed for the moment it was time to go home so it can be just the two of you. 

“I’m so excited,” you looked back at Dex, whose eyes were darting between people and rides. He had that familiar look on his face you knew all too well—he was overwhelmed. You had asked him probably ten times if he was okay with going to the Brooklyn Carnival and each time, Dex said yes—even though you knew better. He wanted to so badly do the things you wanted, but the price of that was his comfort. You made a note to yourself that if you did catch him getting overwhelmed—like he was now—you’d pull him aside to bring him back down. 

“Hey,” you stopped in your tracks, pulling Dex by his hand closer to you. He was startled by the sudden stopping as he focused his dark hazel eyes on you. 

“Is everything okay?” Dex asks, “Did you see something?”

You shook your head softly, touching his cheek. “I’m okay. Everything is fine. Are you okay?” 

Dex nods his head, averting his eyes from the people that surround them. “I’m okay if you are.”

“We can leave—“

“No,” Dex interrupts you. He won’t let his nerves get in the way of your date. “I want to stay.”

“Okay,” you smiled, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Let’s go.”

You grabbed his hand again and pulled him closely through the crowd, passing the rides, food stands, and entertainment until you reached the games. Different booths surrounded the area. There were more kids around and families waiting in line for different games. The image of them all sent a pang to Dex’s heart. It was a reminder that he never had this kind of childhood—a childhood full of laughter and cotton candy and games. He can’t think of that right now, not when you’re laughing and smiling at the same thing he sees. Dex smiles at you because you’re the only thing that can make him smile right now.

“What should we play first?” You squeeze his hand a few times and meet his eyes. Dex sighs in exasperation, looking around at all the games. His attention falls on a ring toss game in front of them. 

“How about that one?”

You smile. “Sure.”

Dex was the one who led the way this time. He grabbed your hand and pulled you between people, watching them carefully, and shooting them daggers if they weren’t moving for you. At the booth, a man in his late 50s smoking a cigarette asks for two tickets from both of you to play. Dex carefully pulls them from his back pocket and hands him the tickets. 

“Alright,” the man grunts, “throw all five rings on the bottle and you win a little teddy bear.”

Dex squints his eyes and takes the rings from the man, handing them to you. You squeal in excitement and squeeze Dex’s shoulder. 

“Okay, me first,” you demand. Dex laughs lightly and steps out of your way. “I want that little teddy bear.”

“You’ll get it,” Dex encourages you. He glances at the small stuffed animal hanging from the top of the board. 

You shuffle the rings between your hands and notice each ring has a different size, obviously to show the level of difficulty to get it around the bottle. Still, it seemed easy enough, like throwing a frisbee. You squint your eyes to level the ring to the top of the bottle and flick it quickly, successfully getting the biggest—easiest—ring around the bottle. Dex smiles to himself and crosses his arms, beginning to feel more engaged with the game. 

“Just got to get four more, darlin’,” the man chuckles from the corner of the booth. He didn’t see it, but Dex shot him an intimidating glare. 

“I got it,” you reply. Dex shifts in his stance and watches you carefully. 

You level the second ring up and flick it a little too fast, flying right over the top of the bottle. You sigh in defeat—at least you have three more. Dex shifts again and watches intently. 

Without fail, you manage to miss every single last ring. Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, in a funny way that a carnival game could make you emit such an emotion, but also because your boyfriend happens to be one of the top snipers in the FBI and he just witnessed you miss each attempt. You look at Dex, shake your head, and roll your eyes in good nature.

“Oh, whatever. Your turn,” you laugh as you step aside. Dex maneuvers around you and dismisses the mocking expression on the man’s face. 

“No teddy bears yet,” he laughs. 

Dex is determined, and it’s almost comical how easy it is. 

You can’t even count the number of seconds that go by when all five rings easily land around the bottleneck by Dex’s doing. You jump up to him and squeeze his shoulders.

“DEX!!!” You squeal, “Let’s go!!”

Dex wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you close against him. He looks up at the man under his baseball cap and smirks. 

“The little teddy bear, please,” Dex demands. 

“Alright, alright,” the man waves in defeat as he reaches for the small bear at the top of the board. “Here you go.”

Dex takes the bear from him and hands it to you with a smile. 

“You earned it,” Dex says in a low voice.

You reach up and kiss Dex on his jaw. “Let’s play another game.”

Dex laughs. “Your choice.”

You walk Dex to the middle of the path, one hand in his, the other holding the teddy bear he won for you. You look around each booth until your jaw drops and your eyes widen on the biggest stuffed duck you’ve ever seen and immediately know you must have. 

“Oh my, God, Dex,” you gasp, walking to the booth like a magnet. “I need to win that giant duck.”

Dex follows your gaze and lets out a loud, genuine laugh, only you could cause him to have. Because of course, you need that giant stuffed duck. It had to be half his size, and so round you could probably use it as a pillow. Its orange legs flopped beneath its giant yellow body. Something like that brought no joy to Dex but seeing you excited over it did. 

“I’ll go first though,” you say to him. “I do want to earn one of these things.”

“All you,” Dex gently bumps your shoulder in encouragement. 

You walk up to the booth and ask the older woman how to win the giant stuffed duck. She laughs and playfully punches the stuffed animal among the smaller ducks that people are more likely to win. 

“No one’s won this thing in all the years I’ve come here,” she says. “You’ve got to shoot every moving duck on this platform in under two minutes. There’s 15 ducks. The more ducks you shoot, the faster the machine goes. If you can manage that, you’ll win this giant duck. If you only hit, let’s say, five of them, you win a rubber ducky.”

“Okay,” you nod carefully, pondering your technique in hitting all the ducks. “We’d like to play.”

“That’ll be three tickets.”

You look at Dex who already is reaching for the tickets in his back pocket. He hands the woman the tickets and goes back to watching you from behind. It’s a seated game, with a fake gun attached to the table that shoots tiny rubber bullets. The gun is locked in this position to ensure it stays facing the game, with a little movement to swirl around. You take a seat in front of the fake gun and place your hands on it, realizing you’ve never held something even remotely close to a weapon. A thought dawned on you that Dex does, quite often for his job, and for some reason that tugged your heart. You hoped a game like this didn’t make him uncomfortable. So when you looked back at him once more and he offered you the tiniest of smiles, that tells you all you needed to know. 

The woman went out of the way and flipped a switch to start the game. The tune of Ring Around the Rosie started to play from the speakers as the ducks on the board began to move around. You aimed at one of the ducks in the top row and hit it smack in the middle. The clock was ticking, and the more you hit the ducks, the faster the machine moved, making it impossible to aim and shoot at them all. As soon as the timer dinged, the machine stopped and a mocking tune played from the speakers. 

“Damn it! So close,” you said in exasperation. The woman chuckled. You got up to meet Dex who was already handing her the tickets so he could play. 

You stood behind Dex as he took a seat in front of the fake gun. Dex didn’t even look at you as he sat down and focused on the game, which made you smile. It was funny to see a tough and seasoned FBI agent as he was getting competitive over a silly carnival game—it meant a lot to you that he was only doing it just so he could win you a stuffed animal. It meant even more that he seemed to be having a good time. 

The woman started up the machine again just as Dex rolled his shoulders to relax. His fingers twitched on the trigger of the fake gun. Once the music started playing, Dex wasted no time in shooting at every single duck at moved, proving that the speed of the machine had nothing on his skill. You watched from behind him with your mouth open in amusement. Even the woman was stunned, as she stood in the corner of the booth and stared at each duck go down in under one minute. 

“Well,” the woman sighed as the machine began to play victorious music. “That’s a first.” 

Dex let out the breath he was holding once the fake gun locked in place and the machine of ducks reset itself. He placed his hands on his thighs and watched as the woman unwound the giant duck stuffed animal from the prize board. You were already waiting for her at the corner of the booth in excitement. When she finally brought it over, you gave it a big squeeze and went over to Dex. 

“Dex!” You said in excitement, “I can’t believe you did it! I mean, I can believe it, because my boyfriend is the best sniper in the FBI, but you really won it for me!” 

Dex stood up from the seat, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck, your bodies separated by the ridiculously large duck. He held you even tighter. 

“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin. That’s all he needed to say for you to know what he meant. 

◎◎◎

As the night went on, you and Dex played as many aiming games as you could find. And every time you played, you played the best you could—but when it was Dex’s turn, you always left the booth with another stuffed animal. On the way out of the carnival, Dex asked if you could stop at a funnel cake booth to take some home. That wasn’t a hard request to grant. 

Now, sitting in the car of the subway, Dex sits with the giant duck in his lap as you carry the rest of the stuffed animals in your arms. 

“I’ll probably donate all this,” you sighed, feeling a bit tired. 

“That’s nice of you,” Dex replies, turning his head to look at you. When he looked forward again, he saw the reflection of you both sitting with the stuffed animals in your hands. Dex looked the silliest, with the giant duck in his lap. You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder, ignoring the powder from the funnel cake on his denim jacket. 

“We’re keeping the duck, though,” you said, resting your eyes. 

Dex laughed and held it tighter in his lap. “We worked hard for it.”

“I hope you had a good time, Dex,” you whispered. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, matching your tone. “I did have a good time.”

In the reflection again, he sees you take a deep breath as you finally let yourself fall asleep on his shoulder. He looks around the car of the subway—not many people are on. Not many threats to worry about. He kisses your temple before focusing on your surroundings again until the subway reaches your stop. 

When the two of you finally reach Dex’s apartment, you set the stuffed animals on his couch carefully but carry the duck into his bedroom. You placed it perfectly in the middle of his bed and smiled to yourself. Dex wraps his arms around you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck again. You lean into his warmth as he caresses your body softly, his strong hands moving up and down the length of your torso. 

“I’d play all those games again to win you more ridiculously sized ducks,” Dex whispers. “And I’ll never miss one shot.” 

[madlittlecriminal]

Hiya! It was my 21st on the 17th! Could I get a birthday request with any of the following characters?

Spencer Reid Miguel O'Hara Eggsy Jonathan Crane Hobie Brown.

As always Im a sucker for confession stories and major fluffiness haha

GN!Reader's Birthday [blurbs]

omg happy belated birthday love! i hope your birthday was amazing! i did all of them because i love them all and i couldn't decide.

Warnings: age gap, fluff, mentions of alcohol

note: hi. if you're new, welcome! i typically write my characters soft. any character here that you feel is out of character is because im a firm believer that they are soft strictly for their s/o no matter how grumpy or evil they are.

------

Spencer Reid (established relationship):

With a memory like his, your birthday would always end up in you being spoiled with your favorite things. This year was different since you both were dating, and he wanted to make it extra special for you. Not only did he get you your favorite cake flavor, but he also took the whole week off of work for you, wanting to make it extra special for you. He cooked a dinner for you...but the recipe was wrong, so the food was a bit saltier than anything else, so you both just ordered take out instead and watched your favorite movie on the couch and cuddling.

Miguel O'Hara (friends to lovers/confession):

You were one of the few people he liked, so when Jess mentioned it was your birthday, he mumbled a soft "mierda" (shit) before rushing out of his office and heading to a nearby panadería (bakery) and bought a cake, asking the man behind the counter to write your name on it and rushing back to the Society building. Funny enough, your name was now smeared all over the cake, making you laugh when you saw it. You would thank him, and he'd smile. To you, that was the best birthday gift you could ask for...right? Well, it would've been if Miguel didn't end up turning into a major softy and confessed his love for you.

Eggsy (established relationship):

He would invite you to a pub to celebrate with a few drinks after taking you out to dinner. Naturally, he would tell the waiter that it was your birthday, so the other waiters and waitresses would come out with a dessert and sing the happy birthday song. You were in between wanting to hate him or wanting to love him since he got you a free dessert but made a big deal out of it. At the pub, he'd buy your favorite drink (alcohol-free or not) and would simply just talk to you about his job that you knew had nothing to do with tailoring suits. The night would eventually end with him giving you a ride home and kissing you goodnight.

Jonathan Crane (friends to lovers/confession):

This man was something else. He wasn't sure what to do for your birthday and he was stressed. The one time when you both became best friends, he gifted you the knowledge of knowing he was Scarecrow...but that was two years ago. He was losing his mind on what to do, so he kept it simple and invited you to his place for a movie. He tried baking a cake, he really did, but this man was a whiz in the kitchen of a lab, not of a home. He gave you a shy smile when he showed you the burnt cake and you thanked him for at least trying. Instead, he lit a pumpkin shaped candle and told you to make a wish; he decorates early for Halloween, don't judge him. The night ends with you cuddled up against him after he told you he loved you more than a friend.

Hobie Brown (established relationship):

To say that he confused you in the best way was an understatement. He told you birthdays weren't his thing, but it seemed like for you, he would do absolutely anything. He bought you cupcakes to celebrate and told you his gift would be different than every other year. It kind of saddened you since you loved going on protests with him, but alas, you waited for the gift. When he took out his electric guitar and played a song you didn't recognize with it. Once he was done, you tilted your head to the side, and he told you he wrote it for you as a gift for your birthday. You would then thank him and gave him a kiss on his cheek. You both shared the cupcakes, but you drew a smiley face on his cheek with some icing, causing him to laugh and kiss you softly.

[profound-jade]

Supreme Support Reader

Cottage Core, Supreme Support Reader,  basically I was feeling really bad about something in bed, like a lot then I remembered something that made me realise what I was agonising over for the last 20 minutes didn’t happen. The feeling of absolute relief I felt was incredible and as I relaxed in bed I thought about the reader having the divine power of making anyone happy, satisfied, and whatever good emotion they could want.

Like, maybe Xiao is feeling hurt today way more than usual only for him to bump into you accidentally while you're picking berries in the outskirts of Liyue for making jam and a feeling of happiness just flows into him when he is with you. Maybe, well definitely, he would be unable to control himself and goes up to hug you and this sense of unyielding happiness and relief just overwhelms him. It was like every last one of his cells were dying of thirst and hunger for months and a banquet of food and drinks were brought to them.

While Xiao is in sheer bliss, you are just a bit stunned about what happened before turning around and seeing that it’s Xiao, which calms you down. Still a bit confused, but seeing how happy he is and knowing his backstory you decide to just stay there for a bit.

Not just people in constant pain like Xiao react this way, ordinary people that are generally happy and satisfied with their daily lives are not that much better. It’s like something they can’t describe awakened within. It’s like something that was written inside their genes but was never activated. After being with you and having all their negative emotions solved, ones they had subconsciously and they consciously didn’t even know, before then being ubercharged with positive and happy emotions, they cannot go back to how things were before without you.

Ningguang had met you after you opened up a small stall in which you sold products that you made from various homegrown ingredients or stuff you got from foraging. The products were simple like jam from berries, homemade baking products like cookies and cakes, and other things like that. They were simple yet they filled something within the customers. It was like they had an itch they didn’t even know about being scratched as they ate your produce. 

Ningguang had been curious so she went and bought some sweets you made without much expectation as she had already tasted all the finest cuisine in all of-holy fuck how are these so good?! She tried to buy out all the remaining stocks after that which yous topped as its not fair to the other customers. 

Ningguang rather forcefully befriended you after that and you two started hanging out, doing and playing all sorts of simple things for hours on end like reading comic books, playing kids games, things that she would never have done by herself or anyone. The Tianquan’s time is measured in solid gold, something she carefully built a market for, could earn millions of Mora in just an hour or even. And yet, she now feels all the time she had spent earning those same mountains upon mountains of mora not even worth mentioning as she sat by a large tree, you in her arms reading a short story as the cool breeze flew by.

As the sun set and you returned home, so did Ningguang. Her thoughts raced as she thought about all the things you and her were going to do later on tomorrow despite knowing dang well she can’t possibly fit all those activities within even a month of time, much less a day. Ningguang met her frantic assistants at the Harbour, complaining to her about all the things they had to take care because of her absence, but Ningguang could only smile fondly of her memories today. 

She made her way up to the Jade Chamber, and as she had walked into her bedroom, she could only stare at her queen sized bed with an empty look in her eyes. She had prioritised Mora and the Jade Chamber above all else for her entire life but now she suddenly feels the lavish and large abode she lived in was empty and shallow. 

Ningguang clutched the part where her heart was under, treating her fine silken garments with force she never would’ve dreamed of before. Ah, this feeling has returned once again. It had been bearable, she suppose. This feeling had sprouted and quickly grew the moment she had met you. It was a feeling she was quite familiar with, something that was imprinted onto her since childhood.

Greed. This intense feeling grew by the moment and with each day, Ningguang’s fantasies of taking you for herself grew more from a shameful thought to a full out plan. Construction and ordering of all kinds of things for turning her private chambers into the two of you’s home was sent out.

Had that not happened first, it probably won’t happen for a while as whoever first finds you gets you. 

Maybe when Beidou returned to the harbour to celebrate for newest accomplishment, she saw a single glance at you before being completely stunned in place. Her pupils widened and she made her mind up on the spot to have you for herself.

Childe brushes hands with you on the streets before shamelessly going and straight up grabs yours before flirting.

What if you were in another nation, say Inazuma? Ei would go from meditating and thinking about how eternity and all that is great before instantly changing her mind after meeting you for like 5 minutes and forcefully marrying you and making you live in the palace, the puppet Shogun completely agreeing with her decision. No 200 year long duel needed.

Or, if things get really spicy, all of this and more somehow happens. Maybe you were a small merchant living in nature and just around selling things you made, seducing and charming anyone you made semi-contact with. Because of that, powerful people and characters that could influence the world were just silently stepping on each other's shoes under the table and they begrudgingly shared a picnic table with you outside, them not wanting to scare you being the only reason they haven’t pulled out their weapons and activated their visions yet.

[archiveikemen]

Liam Evans 1st Birthday Campaign: Story (2023)

His POV

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Candles placed on a round cake based on how many years someone has lived.

The star of the day responds to the birthday greetings with a bright smile.

A picture-perfect birthday filled with joy, like in a painting.

And yet, to me, that’s something so distant — it was frightening and impossible.

…

≪ Setting: Kate’s Bedroom ≫

A new morning dawned, and my lover was sleeping peacefully in my arms.

I loved to stare at Kate’s face as she slept.

(... Cute, cute, cute. … I’m starting to want her.)

I lifted the shirt that was only thrown over her body, and her supple breasts spilled out.

The kiss marks that covered her breasts looked so incredibly sexy, I couldn't hold myself back from kissing their rosy peaks.

(Oh, they’re getting pointy. … Can she feel it even when she’s asleep? Ah… so cute.)

When I took one of her nipples into my mouth, Kate's body shivered.

Kate: … Nn, ah… Liam…!?

Liam: Mm, you’re awake? Good morning, Kate.

Kate: W-What are you doing… ah…

Liam: Hm? I was craving you because you looked so sexy and cute.

Kate: Nn, ahh… haa… Liam, stop…

Liam: Hm…?

Kate: There’s something I wanted to tell you the moment I wake up. So I need you to stop.

Liam: Something you want to tell me? What is it?

Kate: Your birthday is coming soon, right? I heard it from Harrison.

(Ah…)

Kate’s words reminded me that my birthday was just around the corner — on the 6th of September.

Kate: Shall we spend your birthday together? I want to celebrate with you.

Her suggestion made my heart flutter like an idiot.

(Really? I want to spend it with you too, I want to be together.)

(...)

(... But)

Liam: … I have rehearsals that will end late that day. So… I’m not so sure yet, I guess.

Kate: … Is that so?

Liam: … Mm. Anyway, I want to continue from just now. I can’t wait any longer. … Come on, you feel the same way, don't you?

Kate: Ah… hey, Liam… Nngh, ahh…

…

≪ Setting: The Scala – Backstage ≫

And then came the 6th of September.

The stage rehearsals that had been going on since morning came to an end, and it was already rather late into the night.

And yet, I couldn't seem to bring myself to leave.

(Ever since that time… I’ve been avoiding talking about birthdays.)

I never once had my birth celebrated… and that was to be expected.

Just by being alive, I caused hurt to many people. I dare not imagine myself to be deserving of being celebrated.

When I joined Crown, Victor and Harry tried to celebrate my birthdays. I couldn't have been happier, and yet I constantly made excuses to avoid those celebrations.

(... Because I didn't know what kind of facial expression I should have while being celebrated.)

(And…)

It’s like once you taste something delicious, you can never forget that taste.

Once you receive a hug from someone, you never forget that warmth.

Once you’ve opened up your heart, you can’t stop yourself from expressing your true feelings.

If I were to be celebrated on my birthday, I would most definitely remember that warmth.

(... I’m… scared to death… of that…)

Kate is someone greatly important to me. If it’s her celebrating my birthday, I’ll make sure I never forget it no matter what happens.

Every breath and blink, I’ll remember every last detail.

Whenever I thought of such bliss, an endless amount of fear would surge up inside me.

— What if I lost that?

I had long grown accustomed to wallowing in despair and loneliness.

I saw my own life as something insignificant, having a fake smile plastered on my face and barely getting by.

Happiness felt out of reach, and love was no more than a dream.

The sole purpose of my existence was to breathe and avoid causing others displeasure.

(That was how I used to think…)

With her own hands, Kate gave me what I had given up on a long time ago.

(I can’t give up again.)

(I never expected that… knowing what happiness feels like would be this frightening.)

Tom: Why the long face, our star actor?

I felt someone lightly tap the back of my head, and I turned around to see Tom, the representative of The Scala, standing there.

Tom: Happy birthday, Liam.

Liam: Thanks. You know it’s my birthday?

Tom: Yeah, you’re always reluctant to go home on your birthday.

Tom: Also, there’s a mountain of presents waiting for you in the hall.

I smiled, and Tom deliberately dangled the keys to The Scala in front of my eyes.

Tom: HOWEVER, as much as I feel sorry for you, I need you to head home. I have a date tonight, I can’t leave if you don't.

…

≪ Setting: Streets of London – Night Time ≫

(Tom was in such high spirits while kicking me out of the theatre.)

After being kicked out by Tom, I walked through the streets of London alone.

(... Hm?)

I noticed a family celebrating on the terrace of a cafe.

(... Ah, it’s a birthday cake.)

A child took a deep breath and blew out the candles with all his might.

Father: Thank you, Tony.

Tony: Why are you thanking me on my birthday, papa?

Mother: We became much happier because you were born. We’re very grateful for that.

Mother: And birthdays aren't only for you. It’s also a day for everyone to express our gratitude for meeting one another.

(...)

Liam: Birthdays are not just for… me? (surprised)

In that instant, it felt as if the raining that had been constantly falling inside of me suddenly stopped, giving me a sense of relief.

(I spent the whole day avoiding my birthday and only focusing on my past wounds.)

(But… what about Kate’s feelings?)

(What about the feelings of Kate, who wanted to celebrate my birthday with me…?)

(... ggh.)

Liam: … What am I even doing?

Liam: … I’m really a failure in every aspect…

I thought of Kate’s words to me.

In times like this, she would always smile and say,

— No matter how many times you’ve tried, it’s always okay to start over.

Liam: Kate…

I started running as fast as I could.

…

≪ Setting: Crown Castle ≫

Liam: *pant*... *pant*...

I sprinted through the hallways and headed straight to the dining room.

…

≪ Setting: Dining Room ≫

Liam: Kate…?

(... She’s not here. Is she in her room?)

…

≪ Setting: Kate’s Bedroom ≫

Without even knocking, I burst into her room…

Kate: … L-Liam?

Liam: *pant*... *pant*... this is…

Her room was decorated, and sitting on the table was a cake with cat ears.

(... Why did you do this for me? I… I was ignorant of your feelings…)

As I remained stunned and staring at everything, Kate gave a troubled smile.

Kate: I thought that I was being annoying. I had a feeling you didn't want to celebrate your birthday.

Kate: But I really wanted to celebrate, because it's your first birthday after we started dating.

Liam: Kate…

Kate: I did all of this on my own accord. So… would it be wrong if I wanted to continue with this celebration for my own sake?

While she laughed and spoke, she saw through all my feelings of hesitation and anxiety.

(Seriously… I’m no match for you.)

(But… I don’t want to depend on your kindness forever.)

(I want to be sincere towards you.)

I embraced Kate’s soft and smaller body with both arms.

Liam: Thank you, Kate. And… I’m sorry for running away.

Liam: I… I was terrified of being celebrated… and knowing how it feels to have a birthday with you in it…

Liam: I was foolish and all I could think of was the possibility of me losing all of that… it scared me.

Liam: But if I keep running away… I’ll be stepping all over your kindness and feelings.

Liam: I don't have the option to do that, because I love you.

I said all that in one breath, and Kate’s fingertips touched my back as she returned the hug.

Kate: … Mm. Thank you for coming back. Hehe…

Liam: Hm…?

Kate: You must've been hurrying to come back. Your back is soaked with sweat.

Liam: … Mm, that’s right. … Haha, I look so uncool right now.

Liam: Even though I look this uncool, can I still ask you for a kiss…?

Instead of words, Kate answered by putting her lips onto mine.

That one kiss made me so happy that I wanted to squeal.

Kate: Nn…

The playful kiss grew deeper and deeper, and we moved onto the bed.

Kate: Ah… L-Liam… there…

Liam: Mm-hm. I’ll give it lots of kisses…

Wanting to compensate for all the unease I had caused her, I repeatedly gave love to all of Kate’s favourite spots.

Positioning myself over Kate, I thrust into her,

Kate: Hnng, ahh…

I mercilessly targeted the spot that drew sweet cries of pleasure from her.

Kate: Ahh… so good…

Liam: Haha, you’re so tight. … Mm, me too. I feel so good inside you, Kate.

Even the wet noises sounded good because they came from Kate.

Kate: Ah… Liam…

Liam: You’re going to cum? … So cute. Go ahead, cum for me. … Come on, you love this spot.

I played with her wet cunt with my fingers while continuously thrusting into her at the same time.

With a high-pitched scream, Kate’s body trembled as she reached her orgasm.

Her moistened eyes, and her body hot from the pleasure… I loved everything about her.

Liam: … I’m so happy.

Kate: Will you become happier for my sake?

(Ah…)

My happiness was immeasurable, but that happiness was accompanied by an equal amount of pain.

(But I’ll accept all that pain and anxiety together with the happiness.)

When I nodded in response to her question, Kate’s face lit up and she smiled.

Kate: Happy birthday, Liam. I love you from the very bottom of my heart.

…

≪ Setting: Liam’s Mind ≫

I had a dream.

All the people I’ve harmed in the past, all the people whose lives I’ve taken… they were all pointing their fingers at me and yelling at me.

They yelled, “I wish you were never born!”. And I desperately tried to run away from them.

And then, I heard a voice coming from somewhere.

It was the voice of someone I love dearly.

So I desperately ran towards that voice—.

…

≪ Setting: Kate’s Bedroom ≫

Liam: … (startled)

I regained my consciousness.

Kate: Oh, are you awake? Good morning, Liam.

Kate: Fufu, it’s rare for you to be asleep. I couldn't help staring at you.

Liam: …

Kate: Is it too stuffy? You looked like you were having trouble sleeping well. Should I open the windows?

I noticed that Kate was wearing a lovely outfit, different from her usual clothes.

Liam: … Why are you dressed like that?

Kate smiled at my absurd question, my mind still weighed down by my dream.

Kate: I just felt like dressing up.

Kate: Even though your birthday is already over, today is still another special day I’m going to spend with you.

(Ah… right.)

(This is reality.)

(Mine, and mine alone.)

I hugged her and kissed the crook of her neck.

Her body felt warm.

What existed between Kate and I, was the reality I loved.

(Hey, Kate. To be honest, I still fail to see my own worth.)

(I still can’t say that I’m glad I was born.)

(Sorry.)

(But…)

(But I don't want to give up on myself.)

I don't want to deny the miracle that’s your love for me.

(I don't want to give up on me, the man you love.)

Liam: I want you to make me even more aware of this painful yet blissful reality. Because I love everything about it.

I heard Kate gasp a little before responding in a soft voice.

“Mm.”

Her response fell on my heart like a gentle rainfall, moistening it and giving it life.

There was no one else I knew who could make me so incredibly happy with such a short and simple response.

Kate: … How shall we spend our day today?

Liam: I want to eat the cat themed cake.

Kate: Actually, the cake isn’t sweet. It was made to suit your taste.

Liam: That’s the ultimate best. I also want to take a good look at the decorations in the room.

Kate: There are some parts of it that I didn't do a very good job at, so… please go easy on me.

Liam: And then we’ll go on a date while you’re wearing this dress. I’ll be your escort.

Liam: Before that…

Liam: Let me love you, cutie.

The two of us laughed and tumbled onto the bed.

The man reflected in the eyes of my lover was so stupidly happy…

He was happy beyond measure. He was alive.

❥ Letter

[thehopelessexception]

how can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22 (almost 24)

warning: im writing this while im on my period and eating ice cream.

i've been dissociating for what now? half a year maybe more. i dont recognize reality. i feel im floating in this sea we call society and i've been feeling the wilson of the story here. i assume everything that's happening around me is real, ofc. but that doesnt make it any less a convenient arrangement i build for myself to try to act like a real person and not freak out. i am feeling out of reality. like the part of the game where you let the sim on auto-mode. i am the sim on auto-mode. and i don't know how to stop this stage of oblivion.

to make a vague introduction, the thing with me is that im a living paradox of a full time contradiction. i am flamboyant but i hate being perceived. i like to speak up for myself but i hate people thinking about me because of it. i have my own process of how i understand things. i trust logic and i question everything. im quite skeptical over things when there's no empirical evidence. i seek for knowledge. critical thinking, data analysis and the whole stuff. i know myself. i sometimes look like i am too obnoxious, frivolous, morally corrupted (people have told me that), when i obsess over something —because i sometimes treat people like they are stupid (not my intention really)—; but probably the only thing im completely sure of is myself. i tend to be a confident person, to have an ego, to not let the guard down, to calculate every single move. and lately i am noticing myself being impulsive, insecure, nervous, weird, saying stupid shit, nonsenses, feeling small. and i don't know how to make it stop. the thing is i put my whole self-esteem backed up by my intelligence, however im not sure of anything anymore. i don't know if the reason behind not recognising myself lately is the fact i have somehow a new crush —or a new hyperfixation for that matter— or just the natural act of growing, also known as the quarter life crisis.

i have this thing where i hyperfix on random stuff, i've been like this my whole life. one of my friends even made a powerpoint of all the things i've been obsessed with over the years. and the issue here is that this things never last that much, or maybe they do? i actually never though about it. the most random ones i remember are probably me buying ice-cream cakes of this specific brand every week for two months. i also got obsessed with eating too many scrambled eggs all day every day for a very long time. then it was that turkish telenovela on an airing channel. then ofc succession, and it grew into watching every single movie kieran culkin was part of. the world cup. mbti —im intj by the way—. red white and royal blue (i watched it five times in a day), then nicholas galitzine —did yk he has a lineage that comes all the way from the romanovs?— and his entire filmography. and also politics, i got way into politics; election campaigns, follow up candidates, history, economy, the law, etc (my candidate lost tho) (we're succumbing to disgrace) (like literally we collectively, as a country, haven't had any kind of good news since then) (please help me). and etc etc. but the thing is, i also hyperfix on random people, or not so random i guess. it doesnt happen very often tho, im quite picky, but the procedure is this: i meet someone, they draw somehow my attention, i want to know everything about this person, i talk to this person a lot (medium to long term) (week to months), and then this person becomes my friend or i get bored and completely ignore them for the rest of my life and move on.

but this time is different, or im feeling it different. i find myself questioning everything i know and i was convinced of. i dont know if it has something to do with the fact that i met someone, probably the first person wise enough to make me question if i was ever correct about anything. maybe i am hyperfixating on this person, idealizing them. but it's truly amazing how much more data this person has about everything i know of. and right now i feel way too insecure, because even if this person told me they find me smart and they enjoy talking to me, i am always thinking that if i say something not completely fact-checked they'll think im stupid. it's absurd. it's a boohoo situation, i know. and it's a process im having about who am i, or what am i supposed to be. some months ago the whole context around my life changed or i think it changed? i dont know how to explain it, —i mean i know how but i would have to talk about other things not related to this (politics stuff, things happening in my country, etc). i'll probably will make a new post about it someday—. but the whole issue is, i dont know myself anymore. and everything is crumbling.

im afraid the person i build for myself it's a fraud. or doesnt exist anymore.

i remember myself at 18, and i was this marvellous whole person. independent, smart, focused, driven. that girl spent their whole days outside her house. did everything she wanted to. wasnt scared of anything. and i look at myself now and think how? the pandemic has a lot to do with it i guess, but when i first heard taylor saying that in nothing new i thought "that wont happen to me". guess what, i was wrong.

for my fellow girlies being 23 —in my experience— is exactly how they say it will be. the worst age of your life.

next month is my birthday and im pushing 24. and i have to say my life is a mess. but i dont know if i can call it a mess because it is truly a mess or because i am a complete drama queen. because people probably have worse problems than mine, and i am what you call a white girl, only poorer —and a third world country citizen—. the issue is, i am almost 24, almost 25. almost 27. ALMOST 30. and i did nothing with my life. absolutely nothing. my mom had me at 29 for god's sake.

and by nothing i mean everything i do is not enough to feel it worthy of a life well-lived. should i look for a job and work while studying just to say i am extremely occupied because i have somehow a life? just to feel something? even if that makes my stress situation and anxiety even worse? should i somehow save enough money so i can move from my parents house? even if for my whole generation it's close to impossible? is studying something i (kinda) like enough to not feel like shit about myself? i've never had a boyfriend, nor girlfriend. shoud i look for one? get myself one? even if i dont think any of that would make me happy? i dont think i know happiness as a state of mind, nor the concept of it.

i dont feel like i have many anecdotes to tell in my future. should i measure the life-worth by anecdotes? my friends feel the same way i do, but they have a more organized life. jobs, boyfriends, careers, plans for the future, one of my closest friends move to the other side of the world with her boyfriend (!) in the blink of an eye. but they aren't much happy nor they have many anecdotes either. and i dont have the money or the guts or the available friends to create any.

every day i understand fleabag a bit more.

my favourite anecdotes about my life are from when i was about 13 and 15 years, also known as the worst time of my life. i didnt appreciated it back then, probably none of us did. but when we were teens everything was possible and we didnt have a care on anything other than mundane stuff or rebellious stuff but nothing more than yelling at people, drinking and smoking weird shit (i never had weed tho). not a real responsibility. being careless, free, avoiding consequences that mattered. i think that girl hates me right now. and i am not sure if that's the feeling i should have or if it's just utterly pathetic.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ female reader, reader / y/n is of ambiguous race. Requests are open!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ  

Want to be shipped? Here be the instructions 🦋  

SFW

・You met Azriel when Rhysand needed your services. The career you chose might be an odd one in the human world, but living with the fae meant magic was everywhere. 

・So in your many years, you started a shop filled with witchy things; herbs, crystals, divination tools, books, candles, flowers, oils, fragrances, etc,

・You were also a collector of magical items - ones that the High Lord himself required. 

・So in comes this tall, beautiful, fearsome man you had only seen from afar. In his usual Spymaster garb, Azriel looked magnificent and it took all your strength not to gasp.

・Were you intimidated? Yes. Did you show it? Also yes, but you tried your best not to. 

・It needs to be mentioned that you weren’t scared though! You knew of Azriel’s reputation, but his face, his height, his wingspan. You were overwhelmed. 

・Okay so further along down the track ... Az had been coming to the shop weekly. Under the pretence that the High Lord liked your products and wished for more (lies, Rhysand only needed like 2 things and that was it.) 

・Az just wanted a reason to keep coming. Because he felt ... welcomed. Like he wasn’t a monster. Or someone to be feared. His shadows felt connected to you somehow. 

・Moving in together when you realise that you have so much stuff at each other’s places. 

・You’re such a patient, kind, and generous person that Az feels overwhelmed with love

・Can you imagine snuggling into his chest at night, window open while the stars twinkle above you???

・You guys also have cute date nights; no matter WHAT you have to spend time together because life gets busy. 

・Mor absolutely adores you 

・Amren loves that you have such ancient books, and is constantly buying them from you/borrowing. 

・Rhysand approves of you, and thinks you’re pretty awesome. If Az is happy then so is he

・Cassian is literally like a big brother to you - constantly trying to ruffle your hair and rile you up. 

・Feyre LOVES LOVES LOVES YOU. She is over the moon that Az has someone and has been hoping for you guys to get together. (BTW She’s the one that told Rhysand to make up a story about how he needed something from your shop ... yeah ... she orchestrated the whole thing)

・You have so much incense in the home 

・Az likes the smell of Cinnamon, Mint, Cardamom and All Spice

・He actually loves to cook 

・Telling you about his awful background and you nearly crying because how could someone hurt another person like that? 

・Training you with basic skills on how to protect yourself; knife, hand to hand, sword, bow and arrow etc. If you wanted to train more, he would be so happy to help

・Making him crappy birthday cakes on his birthday but he absolutely LOVES THEM

・Oh and his favourite things are handmade items - knitted sweaters/scarfs, baked cookies, drawings, notes/letters, etc. 

NSFW 18+

・ 👀 yeah ... the sex is ... mindblowing. 

・He lasts for a really, really long time. Az is super patient ...

・He likes to edge you; being in charge of when you cum. The spymaster likes to hear you whine; hear you beg for release. 

・Az is most definitely dominate but LOVES when you’re in charge. Adores when you push him onto the bed, tying his hands so he has no control

・He isn’t one for dirty talk (of himself) but he does love it when you talk dirty to him. 

・SJM made Illyrian wings sensitive FOR A REASON, and that reason is so their lovers can absolutely take advantage of it. 

・He loves to leave hickies everywhere; legs, thighs, arms, neck, chest, ass. 

・Likes to take baths, and showers together. 

・ Wing cleaning

・Hair washing

・Lathering the soap ... everywhere ...

・He also likes to bring toys into the bedroom, vibrators, dildos etc. he doesn’t feel threatened with them in the slightest

・Likes to smack your ass whenever you walk by him (never in front of people though) 

・Both taking aphrodesiacs to see what would happen - if your sex would be better or the same (no way could it be WORSE dude c’mon)