#or at least a participation ribbon

[deus3xmachinablog]

as "experiences of Harrow the Ninth" go nothing will ever equal night driving on a rural, unlit highway, at midnight on a weeknight, on hour 3 of a 4 hour drive, and hitting the Soup Chapter (and the chapters surrounding it on either side). i survived moira quirk describing in vivid, scintillating detail the effects of prolonged sleep deprivation to me under perhaps The Worst Possible of Circumstances and i think i deserve a medal.

[chrollogy]

EPISODE 2: CHOCOLATE GONE WRONG

neuvillette x f!reader

NNN ‘24 masterlist | Next Episode

DETAILS: Neuvillette finds himself itching to break the sacred rule of No Nut November after naïvely indulging in aphrodisiac-laced chocolates gifted by Sigewinne—a popular craze among young Fontanian adults.

DURATION: 5.3k

CONTENT ADVISORY: explicit smut, mdni, porn without plot, p in v, creampie, neuvi has two cocks + emphasis on his draconic features, use of aphrodisiacs (neuvillette), neuvi uses his cane as a makeshift leg spreader bar, pet names (ma/mon chérie, ma belle, (my) love), not beta read

DIRECTOR’S NOTES: divider: cafekitsune. round 2! also i’m not quite sure i will get the next two fics out in time (or if i’m getting them out at all) but i will try my best T_T. your lil moon is having a rough patch rn so yeah but nonetheless enjoy!

For Neuvillette, the month of November was nothing significant to say the least—his job continued, overseeing trials, sorting out documents, meeting with important people, and more workload now that Lady Furina had stepped down from archon hood; so, when you had come into his office one day, talking about how a certain trend spread like fire across Teyvat, Neuvillette was rather intrigued.

It had a weird name—No Nut November—and couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea based on the name alone. He remembered how you explained to him Fontanians, and people of other nations were to engage in No Nut November which was to participate in sexual abstinence.

Naturally, the idea was all bizarre to him—not because he thought he couldn’t do it but more so the fact that it was natural for humans to engage in intercourse, same goes for his kind as well. Neuvillette couldn’t see the significance of such a trend, and why humans were participating but who was he to deny your proposal of a challenge? After all, there was no harm involved, he figured it would help him understand human customs a little better despite the it’s strangeness in nature.

Situated behind his desk, Neuvillette let out a deep sigh, letting the papers in his hand fall onto the wooden desk beneath before rubbing his temples. 

“Stressed, Monsieur?” A familiar, teasing voice sliced through the suffocating silence of the Iudex’s office. Neuvillette looked up from his desk, greeted by a friendly figure. The former was too focused on the case materials before him that he hadn’t realised the presence of another, “Wriothesley. I’m rather surprised to see you.”

The raven-haired male was clad in his usual attire, heavy obsidian boots sounding with each step taken against the carpeted floors.

“Ah, you’re not the only one.” Wriothesley chuckled, recalling his encounter with Sedene just mere seconds ago, who looked like she had just seen a ghost. Before Neuvillette could inquire about the sudden visit, the former beat him to it,

“Don’t worry, I won’t take up much of your time. I’m here because Sigewinne had given me an errand to run. She got these for you.” Taking a couple steps closer to Neuvillette’s desk, Wriothesley placed a small box atop the case papers. Carefully wrapped in an ivory satin ribbon, the azure container was adorned with intricate designs in gold that shone beneath the afternoon sun, neatly decorated chocolates peeked from the plastic window of the lid.

The Chief Justice subtly raised his brows in amusement, he wasn’t one to indulge in chocolate nor was he a sweet tooth but nonetheless, he appreciated Sigewinne’s thoughtful gesture.

“That is very kind, please thank her for me.”

Watching the way Neuvillette’s expression morphed into a naïve smile, Wriothesley crossed his arms over his chest, “Say, Monsieur, have you heard of the craze among young Fontanian adults right now?” He most likely already knew the Iudex’s answer to the question but what was life without a little teasing?

With how the popular sweet has been making rounds across Fontaine, it would be near impossible for anyone to be clueless about it but at the end of the day, Neuvillette was Neuvillette, probably the busiest man in all of Fontaine which is why Sigewinne had to intervene with the chocolates. The head nurse didn’t have to physically see the Iudex to tell how much he’s been overworking himself nor was a simple order from her was going to stop him.

So, what better way to disguise a remedy with something simple? Basically akin to administering medication to a pet concealed as a tasty treat

Sexual intercourse was the fastest—and best—way to relieve him of his stress. Sigewinne hoped for the Iudex to pardon her complete brazenness but he was as stubborn as a rock, and took her orders about resting rather lightly.

Naturally, Neuvillette shook his head with a light chuckle, a tinge of interest seeping its way into his skin, “I believe I’ve heard her talk about it but the details must have slipped my mind.” A subtle blush blanketed the Chief Justice’s pale cheeks at the mention of his lover, you. Wriothesley’s lips stretched into a teasing smile—one which the former paid no attention to.

 “Well, would you ever try an aphrodisiac?” At Neuvillette’s baffled expression, the younger male bit the inside of his cheeks, biting back a hearty laugh. 

“An aphrodisiac, you say? Substances that—” “That increases one’s libido, yes.” Wriothesley cut him off, tease practically dripping from his tone. Neuvillette was a man capable of many things, an esteemed individual once he’s in court but when it came to much simpler matters, the Chief Justice was nothing but clueless, especially regarding human customs that are a bit harder to wrap one’s head around.

“I’m afraid I have no such time for trivial things.”

The Iudex shook his head once more, this time dismissively waving a gloved hand at his friend. He cleared his throat, the blush on his cheeks deepening into a crimson hue—Neuvillette wasn’t going to say it out loud, especially not in front of Wriothesley but he deemed himself more than capable of maintaining his sexual desires and performances, you were enough proof.

Wriothesley left it at that, his friend may just end up as red as a tomato if he prodded around the topic any further. Needless to say, amusement filled him to the brim, “Alright. It was nice chatting with you Monsieur. I believe Sigewinne also left a small note there—”

The latter looked down at the box. Indeed, there was a small piece of paper neatly folded and tucked beneath the ivory ribbon.

“—do heed her letter.” With that, Wriothesley dipped his chin, sauntering over to the double doors.

Reaching for the handle, the Duke stopped in his tracks, he looked over his shoulder, icy cerulean gaze full of mischief, “Oh, and I hope you two enjoy—the chocolates, I mean.” With that, he left the office, leaving Neuvillette to his thoughts.

The day went by rather quickly, the azure skies turning into golden hues of oranges and yellows as the sun bid farewell to its people, disappearing below the horizon. The chocolates from Sigewinne remained untouched on the corner of Neuvillette’s desk, it watched as stars decorated the night sky; though, as the Chief Justice retired for the evening, he grabbed the box of sweets before heading out.

Neuvillette figured he’d share them with you at home.

Greeted with silent darkness, he was suddenly reminded of your words this morning at breakfast: ‘Oh, I have work dinner later, my love; so, I won’t be eating here. We’re celebrating a company milestone.’ Conveniently enough, Neuvillette had already eaten at his office before leaving so he won’t have the pleasure of sitting across an empty seat at the dining table.

Getting ready for the chilly night ahead, Neuvillette changed into his evening attire after taking a warm bath, he donned silken azure pyjamas paired with a fluffy ivory robe. His silver strands cascaded down the length of his spine, the cerulean bow, and golden hair clips he usually wore were neatly tucked away inside his jewellery box.

Situated on the love seat, Neuvillette casually flipped through case documents inside a brown paper folder. The fireplace across him was ablazed with hues of oranges and reds, casting a citrine glow upon the dimly lit living room. As flames danced atop dry wood, the dulcet sound of classical music poured from the record player, filling the space with its tunes.

After minutes of skimming and scanning the documents, he reached for the box of sweets next to his lap, taking time to read Sigewinne’s carefully written note:

Monsieur Neuvillette, I’ve acquired these sweets for you, and her! I figured these would help you loosen up a little so please do not shy away from consuming as much as you want. Make sure to share them with her as well. Enjoy!

Love, Sigewinne

A warm smile spread across Neuvillette’s face, and despite his better judgement of waiting for you to come home and indulge in the taste of chocolate together, he figured one piece wouldn’t hurt to try alone, right?

With the moon high up in the obsidian night sky, you walked down the cobblestone footpath that led closer to yours and Neuvillette’s shared space, the evening breeze gently caressing the apple of your cheeks. Work dinner had just concluded at Hotel Debord which housed a lovely singer who put on a dazzling performance.

By now, the streets of the Court of Fontaine were more deserted as people retired to their homes for the night, shop owners here and there packed away their respective signage, their stores devoid of any customers.

With each step leading closer to home, you soon found yourself in front of your home, keys jingling between your fingers as you unlocked the front door. From the entrance hallway, warm hues greeted you like an embrace, hinting at the ablazed fireplace in the living room.

“My love? I’m home.” You called out to Neuvillette while skilfully removing your shoes, and neatly placed them beside his own.

Met with silence, you figured he either must be occupied with something or must have fallen asleep while waiting for your return. You sauntered over to the end of the entrance hallway, making your way to the living room, and as you got closer, melodic sounds engulfed your senses—you recognized it, Neuvillette’s favourite classical music.

Turning the corner, you were greeted with a rather interesting sight, a wave of concern washing over you,  “Neuvi—Are you okay?”

Seated on the love seat was Neuvillette, his left elbow propped on its arm rest, face hiding behind his hand. A deep crimson blush painted his handsome face, intensified by the reds and oranges that the fireplace emitted. He sat there looking flustered, chest heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths. Drinking in the view, you noticed documents sprawled across the empty space next to him but what really caught your eye was the intricately designed box resting on his right thigh.

The box had its lid intact yet the loose ivory ribbon draped over his thigh hinted he had previously opened it. Upon closer inspection, you realised it's familiar packaging, a co-worker had shown it to you the other day, telling you how her and her boyfriend have been dying to try the popular chocolates—chocolates laced with a potent aphrodisiac. 

Your gaze made its way back to Neuvillette—who was still breathing heavily on the love seat—now noticing the prominent tent beneath his silken pants, the azure fabric was flimsy and delicate which left little to your imagination. Pushing away the impure thoughts that snaked its way into your mind, you kneeled before your lover with a concerned expression,

“My love, who gave these to you?”

Knowing Neuvillette, he most likely consumed the chocolates without knowing its true contents simply because he wasn’t aware of the trivial things that humans indulged themselves in.

He let out a pained groan, shaky and vulnerable as he shifted in his seat, “Forgive me, ma chérie. This is improper of me.” With trembling hands, Neuvillette covered his throbbing groin, completely embarrassed that you had to see him in such a state. Truth be told, he didn’t know what came over him—a chocolate or two was all he had, and the next thing he knew, his skin burned like a thousand suns as blood rushed down, down, down to his cock.

The very core of Neuvillette’s body churned with desire—carnal desire—and as each second passed, each tick of the ivory wall clock, the uncomfortable yearn between his legs grew. A light sheen of sweat coated his feverish forehead, as though he was experiencing a fever, and whatever this was, it heightened all five of his senses.

From your voice sounding like it dripped with pure honey, all the way to the saccharine scent of your body, Neuvillette was driven mad with lust. It didn’t help how you kneeled before him, and gently caressed his thigh, a poor attempt of comfort because it brought nothing but waves of icy shudders down the length of his spine. Sensitive. His body was completely sensitive to any external stimuli, and if you rubbed his leg any further, he might just come undone.

An embarrassing thought.

Neuvillette was pathetically needy. How preposterous, the high esteemed Iudex of Fontaine reduced to nothing but a lust-driven man eager to shove his aching cock deep in your velvety walls. The subtle buck of his hips against the thick air; the way he swallowed breathless whimpers at your touch; the violent throbbing between his legs, he was beyond irredeemable.

With another grunt, Neuvillette panted out, “Sigewinne gifted them. Wriothesley had delivered it to my office this afternoon.”

Truth be told, you weren’t surprised. At all.

Standing up from your spot, you walked over to the wall phone. You tried your best to ignore the dainty whimper that fell from Neuvillette’s lips as your warm touch left his thigh, you also tried to ignore how his body involuntarily sought you out—trembling hands reaching to chase your gentle hold.

With glassy eyes, Neuvillette watched as you deftly dialled on the phone, he couldn’t help but trace your breathtaking figure, from the square of your shoulders all the way to the curves and dips of your legs. Oh, the things he’d do to spread them open, and inhale your sweet essence like a mad man. Neuvillette could practically taste your honey on his tongue, its velvety texture sliding down his throat.

Another groan escaped your lover at the thought of eating you out, his cock rubbed against the fabric of his underwear as it shamelessly twitched beneath his pants.

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d be calling given the . . . circumstances.” Of course Wriothesley knew. Pure tease dripped from his honeyed voice, most likely paired with a smug smile, and an icy, taunting gaze.

“Why would you give him that?!” 

A chuckle from the other end of the line, “First of all, I just delivered the present. Our head nurse here bought it. She’s helping Monsieur Neuvillette out.”

You huffed, trying to make sense of Sigewinne’s motives, “By what? Feeding him chocolates with a potent substance?” You’ve always adored how Sigewinne cared for her loved ones, especially Neuvillette—whatever one’s deal was, she was always willing to help out in her own unique way. But this . . giving him such a substance without any warning felt like foul play, and not only was Neuvillette receiving the short end of the stick, you were as well.

You weren’t naïve, aphrodisiacs only wore off after one has reached their satisfaction through sexual means, like quenching one’s thirst. 

“You’re making it sound like we gave him drugs.” “It is drugs, Wriothesley!”

Before you could say anything else, gentle, yearning arms wrapped around your front, caressing your stomach which ultimately caught you off guard. Neuvillette. Nuzzling into the junction of your neck just beneath the telephone against your ear, he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive spot, soft smacks of his lips loud enough for Wriothesley to pick up.

You bit back a moan, free hand coming up to rest on the wall to support your weight. Neuvillette’s kisses had your legs trembling, it left prominent goosebumps in its wake as he trailed further down to your shoulder blades.

“Hm. Looks like it's time for me to go. Pass on my best wishes to Monsieur Neuvillette.” And with that, he hung up the phone.

“My apologies, ma chérie. I just—I need you.” Neuvillette sighed, hot breath ghosting over your bare skin, akin to a gentle caress coaxing you into the borders of lust, like a lone finger protruding from the darkness, beckoning you to its endless, sinful void.

“Love—mhm!” You let out a yelp, his hands finding comfort on the curve of your hips, keeping them still as he slotted his clothed cock between your ass. Neuvillette grinded into you, unshameful and devoid of any decorum. Placing the telephone back on the wall, your nails dug into the hearts of your palms, just the feel of his hard cock had you embarrassingly wet already.

Neuvillette was different from this, despite his sexual urges, he was never forward with you, he took his time—sensual and sincere, treating you like the finest piece of gold to ever exist. But saying you weren’t enjoying his brazenness would be a complete lie. Seeing a different side to your lover put you in a rather sensitive state, almost like a virgin bedded for the first time.

Something primal had awoken deep inside his core, and the only way to handle it was to satiate his carnal thirst.

Nonetheless, you tried to get your point across, “Neuvi . . What you’re experiencing is the effect of an aphrodisiac from those chocolates Sigewinne gave you.”

Your words fell deaf on his pointed ears, instead, Neuvillette mumbled some of his own, “I’m sorry . . Ma belle, I promised you about that challenge but it seems I cannot fight my urges any longer.” Another shaky sigh left his rosy lips.

Challenge? Oh.

Oh.

Even in his lust-driven state, Neuvillette was still thinking about the No Nut November challenge you had proposed earlier this month.

“I’m a man of my word but I need you, my love. Let me break the rules just this once, please?” Pure desperation coated every word that came out of his mouth. It was thick like honey, and melted on your skin like snow. God, at this point the stupid challenge wasn’t even on your mind anymore, not when he desperately humped your ass like an animal in heat—quick, little ruts of his hips that soothed the ache a bit better.

Who were you to deny your lover?

The transition from the living room to the shared bedroom was a blur—everything was hasty; desperate hands exploring each other’s bodies; lips sealed together in a rough, passionate kiss; a trail of clothes messily discarded on the floor leading up to the room. Everything Neuvillette did had you on your toes, completely breathless while trying to mirror his hurried actions.

Normally, Neuvillette would bask in your serene glory, peeling clothes off from your body layer by layer, and decorating your exposed skin with butterfly kisses. He’d gently stroke your hair, slender fingers weaving through the strands as he takes in your bare beauty.

Now, his tongue swiftly explored your mouth—lengthy and thick—something he has never done before. It dizzied you.

You landed on the foot of the plush mattress with a soft gasp as Neuvillette pulled away. Breathless and flustered, you stared up at him through your lashes, soft pants escaping your kissed lips. The sight before him made his cock twitch. How your hair was splayed around your head, mimicking a soft halo, a divine being greater than he.

Neuvillette discarded the last two pieces of clothing—pants and underwear—in one fell swoop, and what came into view undoubtedly had you clenching around nothing. Standing proud and heavy at the base of his abdomen were his cocks, both painted in a deep vermillion hue, and generously leaking pre-cum. The sticky pearlescent substance coated his bulbous tips, it glistened beneath the moonlight, beckoning you to wrap your lips around them, and have a feast.

This wasn’t the first time you saw Neuvillette naked nor were you not aware of his kind but it always brought you shock every time, not to mention the faint cerulean scales the underside of his cocks boasted, it was also his sensitive spot.

Stepping out from the puddle of fabric around his ankles, Neuvillette did the same to your undergarments, mindlessly tossing them elsewhere in the room. A low growl sounded from his chest as he pried your legs apart, his deft hands guided them to bend at the knees while resting the soles of your feet on the edge of the mattress, putting your glistening cunt on full display.

In less than a heartbeat, Neuvillette was on his knees, his eager tongue lapping along the length of your slit, your arousal pooled at the tip of his tongue like sinful honey, the divine taste of your cunt prompting another shameless growl from your lover. He repeated the movement a couple of times, each lick reaching closer and closer to your sensitive clit, and when he finally reached it with his hardened tongue, you let out a surprised gasp.

“Neuvillette!”

Shocks of electrifying pleasure kissed its way up your spine as Neuvillette tongued at your swollen bud—tight, fast circles, up and down, side to side, he toyed with you like it was the only thing he knew how to do. Your hands immediately flew to his ivory tresses due to his ministrations, it was almost like playing a game of tug of war, indecisively pushing and pulling his, unsure if you wanted more or if you wanted him to stop and slow down.

Lewd, wet smacks of Neuvillette’s tongue mixed with his low growls filled the room, allowing you to bask in the sounds of pleasure your lover unabashedly made. Almost akin to a vicious beast swallowing down its prey.

As your back arched off the mattress, and the grip on Neuvillette’s hair tightening, he pulled away, earning a rather disappointed whine to fall from your lips. Sweet arousal abundantly coated his lips and chin, bringing warmth to your cheeks. No one in the room dared to say it but this was the first time your cunt got embarrassingly wet, not that Neuvillette was inadequate in bed per se but you were wetter than usual, and you were confident that he had also noticed.

The glow of his lilac eyes and cerulean feelers were proof enough.

Standing up to his feet, Neuvillette languidly stroked the cock that sat beneath the other one, an immodest gaze raking over your sopping cunt, and how it shamelessly dripped with sticky arousal enough to soil the ivory sheets beneath.

“Are you ready, ma chérie?” Neuvillette’s lilac stare captured you in a haze, absentmindedly nodding at his words as though you were rendered speechless.

He slowly rubbed the tip of his bottom cock before pushing it past your soaked folds, it eagerly swallowed him in—a loud, shameless squelch filling your ears as he stretched you open further. Your toes curled at the sensation, hips immediately bucking into him as you moaned his name. The stretch was a pleasurable burn, one that had you rolling your eyes back, and digging your nails onto the sheets a little harder. Neuvillette was able to easily slip into you, courtesy of the plentiful slick that coated your velvety walls.

Neuvillette stilled as he bottomed out, quick, short pants falling from his rosy lips. God, you always took him so, so well, he could never get enough of the feeling of warmth wrapped around his cock. You took this time to get used to the stretch, your muscles relaxing to lessen the resistance he felt. Neuvillette filled you up so well you could almost feel him in your stomach—a thought that had you clenching around him.

One, two, three seconds later, Neuvillette slowly pulled back, letting out a shaky breath at the pleasurable sensation. And with only his cock head inside you, he took no time to slam all the way inside. You moaned, hands flying to his bare shoulders, immediately marking his pale skin with crimson stripes. Neuvillette unabashedly keened at the clench of your cunt around him, knees buckling as you gripped his cock like a vice, making it harder for him to move in and out.

“Haah! Mhm! Neuvi—right there, my love!” Colourful moans and whimpers urged Neuvillette on, dragging him further and further to the state of insanity. “You feel divine, ma belle . .” The words came out as a choked sob—pathetic and dainty. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead paired with a deep crimson blush that painted his cheeks, if anything, Neuvillette looked absolutely ethereal in this state despite how out of it the aphrodisiacs made him.

Not only were his cocks extra sensitive to touch but he could also perfectly smell the scent of your sex that lingered in the air. That sweet, sinful aroma he knew oh so well.

It made his head spin.

He tried holding back, he really did but your dulcet moans stroked his growing ego, and the feel of your sopping cunt deliciously sliding against him, the last thread of sanity that held him snapped.

Violently.

As if he saw nothing but bright hues of ruby, Neuvillette picked up his pace, long thrusts quickly turning into short ones as he mercilessly pistoned his hips over and over again, allowing his cock head to reach your sweet spot. Your fingers raked down the length of his spine—leaving violent ribbons of red in its wake—stopping right at the dimples of his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you dug onto the pale skin there. Neuvillette wasn’t the only one on the brink of insanity with how the underside of his other cock furiously rubbed at your swollen clit with each thrust, it rested at the hood of your cunt, thick and heavy.

“S-so good! It feels so good—ngh!” The thrust of his hips felt amazing, too amazing to the point where your body started to reject them. Your body entered fight or flight mode, parted knees instinctively closing together which only allowed an inconvenient amount of room for Neuvillette to move with.

Upon noticing the change, he slowed down, sweaty palms resting on either knee, “My love—haah . . Open up for me, would you?” Winded and weak, Neuvillette attempted to pry your knees apart to no avail considering his mushy state.

“Too much, mon chérie . . I—I can’t.” Neuvillette shook his head at your words before pulling out, leaving you confused and empty. From the mattress, you watched as he sauntered over to his side of the bed, grabbing a lengthy, obsidian object that rested against his nightstand. Before a question could even formulate in your mind, he returned to his spot in the blink of an eye; though, this time, with something in his hand.

A cane—his cane. The same one he used during court proceedings, in that context, it was deemed a sacred symbolism of his authority as the Iudex of Fontaine.

To use it in such a setting would be borderline blasphemy.

Hovering over your trembling body, Neuvillette placed chaste kisses on each knee, “Do you trust me, my dear?” Was that even a question? Of course you did. He wouldn’t harm you and you believed that completely.

With a soft touch, Neuvillette was able to easily pry your knees apart, the scent of your cunt once again filling his senses. He wordlessly slotted the obsidian cane beneath your knees, its surface cool against your feverish skin, you shuddered at the contrast in temperature. Neuvillette pushed down on the shaft of the cane, bringing your knees closer to your chest—you also noticed how it kept your legs still, meaning you had no option to close them.

You whimpered at the slight burn the position invited, especially with the cane pressing down on your soft skin. And once again, Neuvillette sheathed his cock inside your cunt before setting the same merciless pace. Only this time, you wouldn’t be able to deny him.

“Neuvi! Neuvi! Neuvi—aah! Fuck—mhm!” You held on to the ivory sheets above your head for your dear life as Neuvillette roughly pistoned his hips. With each relentless thrust given, your body jolted further up the mattress, breasts bouncing in full display for your lover to drink in. Oh, how he adored the way your naked body moved and reacted to him, so plush and pliant.

Sharp hisses from the bed frame interlaced with the pornographic sounds of your moans, creating a lewd melody for the moon to witness, a sinful song only for the darkness of the night to hear—full of heat and passion.

“Does—ngh! Does it feel good, my love? Will you give in to the—haah! To the pleasure I’m giving you?” Neuvillette curled over himself, tresses of ivory cascading down to cage your face as he leaned closer to you. Despite the blur of your vision, you noticed the faint azure scales that decorated the side of his neck along with his pupils becoming more animalistic.

Neuvillette’s draconic features only ever made itself known during his heat; so, this came as a genuine surprise to you. Not that you were really complaining.

His hand remained on his cane while the other found comfort on your hip, subtly guiding your body onto him to meet each thrust. Neuvillette met your gaze through a glossy stare, you watched as beads of crystalline-like tears formed on the corners of his eyes, eventually rolling down his reddened cheeks. The sight before you was beyond divine, it wasn’t every day one would see the Chief Justice in such a poor state, his usual expressionless face painted with a colourful expression.

One that unmistakably screamed how lost he was in pleasure: rosy lips parted to let out soft whimpers, brows tightly knitted together, creating a deep crease between his brows.

“Are you close ma chérie? Mhm—aah! Come with me?” Neuvillette breathed out. It took all of his will power to hold himself up, and keep his hips moving due to immense pleasure weighing on his body like a great burden. The feeling had him trembling to his very bones, like a yellow autumn leaf braving the evening winds, and no matter how much his brain screamed at him to stop, he didn’t.

The pleasure would be too great of a loss if Neuvillette stopped now; so, he kept going—pounding, rutting, and grinding into you as he chased both your impending orgasms.

You nodded vigorously, throat too dry from all that panting to choke out any coherent words. The burn of the position you maintained mixed with Neuvillette’s cocks stimulating your cunt sent you into a painful yet pleasurable overdrive.

Without a second thought, you hastily placed your hands between your bodies, blindly seeking out Neuvillette’s other cock, and wrapping your fingers around it. To the best of your ability, you vigorously pumped his shaft, matching your strokes with his thrusts.

Neuvillette shuddered, releasing a loud moan into the damp air. After a few more quick thrusts, he stilled deep inside you, sealing his lips with yours as you both reached your climax, eagerly swallowing one another’s lewd moans. Your back arched off the mattress, toes curling, and fingers digging into Neuvillette’s skin as you violently came, the feel of his thick, hot cum painting your plush walls white had your hips bucking into him, begging for more.

Embarrassingly enough, Neuvillette came a lot. Not only inside you—to the point where it spilled out of your cunt and onto the sheets below—but also on you. The cock you’ve been stroking spurted thick ribbons of cum on your abdomen, abundantly covering your skin in his essence. He looked at the filthy art that decorated your skin, colourful curses enough to make Fontainians gasp in shock filled his mind.

How beautiful you were marked by him.

“Did I hurt you in any way?” He asked, slowly peeling himself away from you. Neuvillette made sure to quickly remove his cane from under your knees, placing it flat on the floor before tending to you. He kissed your sweaty forehead, and pulled your bodies up the mattress with your head atop the fluffy pillows.

“Not at all but I have to say, I was reaaally looking forward to completing the challenge, mon chérie.” You joked, letting out a breathless laugh.

Neuvillette blushed, suddenly remembering how he readily accepted the proposal of your challenge . . What was it again? No Nut November?

“Another year is to be expected, I am determined we will overcome the challenge.” And you were looking forward to that. Very much so. You just hoped he wouldn’t consume another aphrodisiac-laced sweet in the coming year so the both of you could actually complete the challenge.

Well, at least you concluded that Neuvillette and aphrodisiacs weren’t such a bad match, right?

Looks like you had a certain head nurse to thank. —

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[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER TEN: NEVER WOUND WHAT YOU CAN'T KILL

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SUMMARY ↳ Man, what kind of asshole robs a cafe? There's that familiar poking feeling in your gums. Your body leaps over the counter, tackling the man to the floor. Your fangs fully unsheathe and you make sure that the struggle blocks what you're doing from view. You yank his arm to the side, grabbing the gun out of hand as your teeth sink into his wrist. Your venom pumps into his body. The robber yelps at the pain, before his body gradually stops struggling, slumping. Paralyzing venom, Miguel had deduced, like his.  pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: gunshot wounds, mentions of being paralyzed (its not permanent) wc: 4.1k

While all your other classmates are nervous, you sit and hum to yourself as the final preparations commence. The back of the stage is dimly lit. The large red curtain hides you from the view of the audience. Your ballet shoes are tied snugly, the satin ribbons crisscrossing your ankles in perfect symmetry. You glance around at your fellow dancers, some of them stretching, others whispering last-minute encouragements to each other.

“Well, you seem fine,” says Victoria, coming to your side.

You smile at Victoria, her presence a welcome comfort in the dimly lit backstage area. She looks like the pinnacle of elegance, with her off shoulder ruffles and her sparkly romantic tutu. Her hair is pinned up with flowers. “I don’t really get nervous. Not for this, at least,” you say.

Victoria laughs softly, her eyes twinkling with a mix of excitement and nerves. "I wish I had your calm. Any tips for a nervous wreck?"

You think for a moment, then reply, "Just focus on the music and the movements. Everything else will fall into place."

She nods thoughtfully. "I'll try that. Thanks."

The stage manager's voice breaks through the hushed whispers, calling everyone to their positions. Victoria gives you a quick nod before heading to her spot. You take one last look around, feeling the energy and anticipation building among your fellow dancers.

As you step into your place, the familiar strains of the opening music begin to play. The curtain starts to rise, and the bright stage lights flood the stage, momentarily blinding you. You blink and adjust, finding your mark on the floor.

With a final deep breath, you lift your arms gracefully, your body responding to the music with practiced ease. The audience is out there, but your focus is on the dance, each movement a tribute to the countless hours of preparation and passion that brought you to this moment.

It’s been very long since you participated in a proper performance. You stopped taking classes shortly after you got bit. Occasionally you threw on a youtube video and practiced in your room, just to make sure you still had it. The stage lights feel different now, more intense, more real, yet there’s a comfort in the familiarity of the movements.

As you move into the first steps of the routine, you feel the warmth of the spotlight on your face. The audience fades into the background, and all that exists is the dance. You and Victoria move in perfect harmony, the countless hours of practice evident in your synchronized movements. Your hands find her waist, lifting her into the air with practiced ease. As you lift Victoria into the air, her form light and graceful, the audience gasps in awe. The spotlight glimmers off her sparkly tutu, casting shimmering reflections across the stage. The energy of your fellow dancers surrounds you, creating a powerful synergy that fills the stage.

With each leap, you feel like you’re flying, the exhilaration of the performance pushing you to new heights. Victoria matches your intensity, her face a picture of concentration and grace. The audience is captivated, their eyes following your every move, their applause growing louder with each passing moment.

As the final notes of the music play, you and Victoria come together for the concluding pose. You lift her once more, her body arching gracefully in the air before you set her down gently. You both hold the final position, breathing heavily but smiling, the audience’s applause roaring in your ears.

Your eyes trace the audience as you're held in your final pose. You take in the awed faces of the crowd, their clapping hands and their cheers. Then, you finally see it.

Damian and Jon, sitting among the crowd. Damian you get, but damn, when did you tell Jon about the show? Did Damian tell him? Damian sits comfortably in his chair, eyes half lidded with his hand over his mouth. Jon is leaning forward, eyes wide and sparkling, mouth agape. You chuckle.

With a final bow, the curtain falls, shadowing you and your fellow dancers. Applause follows you as you’re ushered backstage. Your fellow dancers surround you, their faces flushed with joy and accomplishment.

Victoria rushes over, grinning widely. “We did it!” she squeals, gripping your arms.

You laugh. “Thanks to you!”

The backstage is a flurry of activity, dancers congratulating each other, stagehands bustling about, and the stage manager giving everyone a thumbs-up. You take a moment to catch your breath, leaning against the wall.

Victoria comes to lean next to you. “I saw your friends in the crowd,” she says. “Damian and the blue-eyed boy.”

You nod. “Yeah, I didn’t know they were gonna come.”

She raises a brow, making you furrow yours. “What?” you question. She hums and shakes her head. Fine, she can keep her secrets. 

You glance towards the side entrance where you know Damian and Jon will be waiting. The thought of their presence in the audience fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Damian's cool composure and Jon's wide-eyed enthusiasm are a perfect contrast, and you can't help but smile at the thought of them sitting there, watching you perform.

The bustle backstage starts to calm down as everyone begins to change out of their costumes and pack up their things. You take a moment to stretch and unwind, the adrenaline from the performance still coursing through your veins.

When you finally step out into the lobby, Damian and Jon are waiting for you. Damian is leaning casually against the wall, his usual smirk in place, while Jon is practically bouncing on his heels, excitement radiating from him.

"That was incredible!" Jon exclaims, rushing over to hug you. "I had no idea you were so talented!"

“ I had no idea you were coming!” you explain, arms coming up to wrap around him.

“Of course I had to come,” he leans back and looks at you as if you just insulted his mother. “Damian said he’d gut me if I didn’t, anyway.”

You raise a brow, looking at Damian smugly. Surprisingly, he doesn’t shy away. He steps forward, holding your gaze with twinkling eyes. “You were impressive.” It isn’t much, but it means a lot coming from him. Even more so he said it to your face.

"Thanks, Damian," you say, feeling your face warm. "I'm really glad you both came."

Jon's enthusiasm is infectious, and he starts animatedly recounting his favorite parts of the performance, his eyes wide with admiration. Damian listens with a small smile, occasionally adding his own observations. Jon gasps suddenly, an idea having come to him.

“Let’s go get dinner!” he suggests, his excitement palpable. You and Damian share a look before you nod, making Damian nod.

“First, I have to say go say bye to everyone, take pictures, you know how it is,” you say. They nod and hold your stuff as you scurry back to everyone else. Hugs are shared and pictures are taken. You make sure to get in a couple of selfies with Victoria. Hurrying back to your boys, you find them waiting by the exit.

Cold air encompasses your trio. Damian and Jon seem unfazed, their excitement warming them against the chill. You start walking down the street, the city lights casting a warm glow on the pavement.

“So, where to?” you ask, turning to Damian.

“You ask me?”

“Well, you’re paying aren’t you?” you grin. “So you should choose.”

Jon chuckles as Damian scoffs, but doesn’t refute. 

“Why not go to Batburger?” Jon asks, smirking at Damian over your shoulder. You laugh as a look of offense crawls onto Damian’s face. “It’s a classic.”

Damian sighs dramatically, then his expression shifts to a more serious one. “I was thinking we could try that new Italian place that just opened up downtown. I hear they have an excellent menu."

Jon shrugs, a mischievous glint still in his eye. "Fine, but next time, it's Batburger."

"Deal," you laugh.

You’re driven to the restaurant, courtesy of Alfred. The energy from the performance still buzzes inside you, and the presence of your friends makes the night feel even more special. As you approach the restaurant, you can see the warm glow of the lights inside, casting a cozy ambiance. The hostess greets you with a smile and leads you to a table near the window, where you can watch the bustling city outside.

Settling into your seats, you glance around at the elegant decor. The restaurant is filled with soft music and the murmur of conversation, creating a relaxing atmosphere. The menu is impressive, filled with a variety of mouth-watering dishes.

“Really fancy,” you comment. “I feel out of place.” Jon nods in agreement, while Damian scoffs.

“Please, this is subpar.” You and Jon share a fond look over Damian’s antics.

As you peruse the menu, Jon begins to gush about the performance again. "Seriously, you were amazing! I can't believe you kept this talent hidden from us."

You laugh, feeling a bit shy from all the praise. "It wasn't really hidden. I just haven't performed in a while."

Damian looks at you thoughtfully. "It's a shame. You should do it more often."

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you smile, feeling a warm glow inside. "Maybe I will."

The waiter arrives, and you all place your orders. The conversation flows easily as you wait for your food, the excitement of the evening keeping the energy high. 

“What got you into ballet?” asks Jon.

You can’t say that Aunt May and Uncle Ben enrolled you as a distraction from your parent’s death and to provide an outlet for your grief. “My dad enrolled me in some classes when I was a kid. He saw me getting… restless and said it was a good outlet for me. After that I also did a bunch of stuff on the side, like gymnastics and sports.”

Jon nods, his eyes wide with interest. "That makes sense. You really looked like you were born to dance."

Damian adds, "It's clear you have a natural talent. And you put in the work. That's a powerful combination." You smile, appreciating their words.

Then, Jon surprises you by saying, “I really like your smile.”

You blink, caught off guard by his bluntness. Sparing a look at Damian, you see that he’s staring at Jon. “Thank you,” you say, for lack of anything better to say.

Jon leans forward, his eyes earnest. "No, really. It's infectious. Every time you smile, it lights up the room."

You feel your cheeks warm, surprised yet flattered by Jon's compliment. Damian clears his throat, a subtle hint of amusement in his expression. "Jon's right," he says, his tone casual yet sincere. "Your smile is... captivating." Geez, where is all this coming from?

You chuckle softly, feeling a mix of amusement and warmth at their compliments. "Thanks, both of you. I appreciate that."

Jon grins broadly, clearly pleased with himself for flustering you. "It's true! You should smile more often."

The conversation shifts as your food arrives, and you all dig into your meals, enjoying the delicious flavors and the lively banter. The restaurant buzzes with activity around you, but your table feels like its own little bubble of warmth. Jon tries to recreate one of your dance moves from his seat, almost knocking over his drink, which sends you into a fit of laughter.

Dinner passes, and you all part ways as you head home. You smile at the picture you took at the diner, turning off your phone and changing into your suit for patrol.

On the last Friday before winter break, you and Damian stand before the class, ready to deliver your "Hot Takes" presentation. The room buzzes with anticipation as Ms. Varley introduces you both, her gaze sharp and expectant.

You take a deep breath, feeling Damian's steady presence beside you. Together, you launch into a compelling exploration of Batman's motivations, ethics, and impact on Gotham City. You start by outlining Batman's complex actions. Damian chimes in seamlessly, adding insights into Batman's methods and how they reflect a darker, more pragmatic view of crime-fighting.

The class listens intently, some nodding in agreement while others raise thoughtful questions. You and Damian feed off each other's energy, seamlessly transitioning between points and elaborating on each other's ideas. Your presentation is well-received, eliciting nods of approval and engaged murmurs from your classmates. As you near the conclusion, Damian takes the lead in summarizing your arguments, weaving together the threads of your discussion into a cohesive whole.

By the end of your presentation, you feel a sense of accomplishment wash over you. As you pack up your things and prepare to leave for winter break, Ms. Varley offers a nod of approval, clearly impressed by your thorough analysis and presentation skills. You and Damian exchange a satisfied glance, a silent acknowledgment of a job well done. The two of you walk out, meeting the snow falling on your cheeks outside.

"Well done," Damian says, his voice low but genuine. "You held your ground well."

"Thanks," you reply, feeling a surge of pride at his compliment. "You were great too.”

Damian nods, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. "It's a topic I'm familiar with."

"So, any big plans for winter break?" you ask as you walk through the snow-dusted grounds.

Damian shrugs. “I plan to refine my art skills. Nothing much.”

“Sounds like you,” you hum. “Well, I’ll be working. Unless, of course…” you pause, looking at Damian, “...you want to marry me and be my rich husband?”

Damian stops in his tracks, his brow furrowing slightly as he looks at you, processing your playful remark. His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly, hinting at amusement. “Are you proposing?”

You lock your hands behind you back, rocking on your feet cheekily. “And if I am?”

Damian's expression shifts, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he considers your playful challenge. His gaze meets yours, intense and calculating as always, yet softened by a glimmer of something warmer beneath the surface.

"Well," he begins, his voice steady, "marriage is a serious commitment, not to be taken lightly."

You roll your eyes playfully. "Of course, Damian. I'm sure you've thought deeply about it."

His lips twitch again, a bit more pronounced this time. "Indeed. And what would I gain from such a union?"

You shrug nonchalantly, trying to maintain your composure despite the hint of nerves creeping in. "Well, my sparkling wit, unparalleled charm, and the pleasure of my company, obviously."

Damian lets out a quiet chuckle, the sound surprising yet strangely pleasing to your ears. "And in return?"

You pause for a moment, meeting his gaze with a playful glint in your eye. "Well your money is all I care about, but…” your finger traces his jaw, feeling it twitch under your touch, “...I guess your looks are a nice bonus.”

Damian's eyebrow quirks up at your teasing response, a mix of amusement and something else flickering in his eyes. His gaze holds yours, a silent challenge echoing in the air between you. You feel a thrill of exhilaration mingled with nerves, unsure of where this playful banter might lead.

"You certainly have a way with words," he finally says, his voice low and measured. "But I'm afraid flattery alone won't sway me."

You tilt your head, meeting his gaze with a playful smile. "Oh? What will then?"

He steps closer, his presence commanding and strangely inviting. "Actions speak louder than words," he murmurs, his breath brushing against your cheek.

"I believe in thorough consideration," he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But some decisions are best made in the moment."

You raise an eyebrow, trying to maintain a playful tone despite the flutter in your chest. "And what kind of action are you looking for?"

Damian's eyes never leave yours, his pupils dilating slightly as he takes another step closer. "Perhaps a demonstration of your commitment," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You breathe, smile twitching as you look down. Huffing a laugh out, you pat his cheek. “You’re good, Dami.”

His brow twitches, looking at you as you distance yourself. You spare him a glance over your shoulder. “No need to give me a ride, It’ll do me good to stretch my legs.”

As you walk through the snow-covered grounds, you can't help but think about Damian's words. "Actions speak louder than words." What did he mean by that? Was he hinting at something more?

You shake your head, chuckling to yourself. You're getting ahead of yourself. It was just a playful conversation, nothing more. You should remember your task.

Gar greets you as you step into the cafe. He’s been doing a lot better. He’s got a new apartment and picked up a second job. Things seem to be looking up for him. Carrie says the cafe always looks good in the winter. You think any cafe looks better in the winter, really. Something about the snow gives the place a cozy, aesthetic vibe.

The cafe looks busy today. Several people are stretched across the area, each of them in their own world. You make your way to the back, seeing Sam organizing some shelves.

“How’d it go?” they grunt, balancing some trays.

You help steady their load. “Good.”

“Just good?”

“Yeah. I think the teacher was impressed,” you say.

“I know that’s right,” they grin, poking your forehead. “You’re the smarted person I know.”

You shrug modestly. “Damian helped.” Sam scoffs, but says nothing further.

As the afternoon rolls on, the cafe fills with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods. You move through your tasks, enjoying the rhythm of work. The holiday season has brought a cheerful energy to the place, with twinkling lights and festive decorations adding to the cozy atmosphere.

During a brief lull in customers, you take a moment to sip on a hot chocolate, savoring the warmth. A man walks in, shrouded in a thick jacket. His head is down, his face covered by his hoodie and cap.

danger

Your fingers tense. “Sam? Can you go get my phone from the back? I think I left it on one of the shelves.” Carrie and Gar are back there too. As long as you're the only one the guy will threaten, it’s fine. Sam nods and goes to the back without questions. Good.

You put on your best smile as the guy approaches the counter. “Hello, sir. How can I–”

You don’t even get a chance to finish your greeting before the guy raises his arm, gun in hand, and shoots two bullets at the ceiling.

The sound of the gunshots reverberates through the cafe, sending a jolt of fear through the air. The customers scream and duck under tables, seeking cover. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you keep your composure, knowing you need to stay calm and think clearly.

The man's face remains obscured by his hoodie and cap, but you can see the glint of determination in his eyes. His gun is pointed at you now, and you raise your hands slowly, trying to appear non-threatening.

"Empty the register," he demands, his voice rough and desperate.

“A cafe, sir? I’m sure you’ll find a better score somewhere else?” you ease.

“I’ve alerted the authorities of the situation. I’ve also sent an anonymous tip to the Batcomputer.” Thank you, Karen.

The man's grip on the gun tightens, and his eyes narrow as he registers your calm demeanor. "Just do it. I don't have time for this."

You nod slowly, moving towards the register with deliberate, unhurried steps. "Alright, I'm opening it now," you say, keeping your tone even and composed. The register dings as it opens, and you start pulling out the bills, placing them on the counter.

As you work, you discreetly glance around, assessing the situation. The customers are still hiding, some peeking out cautiously. You catch a glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye. Sam, Gar, and Carrie are peeking from the back, their eyes wide with fear and concern (except for Gar, he just looks pissed). You subtly shake your head, signaling them to stay hidden and safe.

“Nobody better fucking move or call anybody!” the robber yells, whipping his gun around. People whimper and cower, shaking.

You move methodically, placing the bills on the counter one by one, keeping the robber's attention focused on you. Your mind races, calculating the distance between you and him, and the timing required to make your move.

"Please, just stay calm," you say, your voice steady despite the tension in the air. "I'm almost done."

As you place the last bill on the counter, you see an opportunity. The robber's attention shifts momentarily to the pile of cash, his grip on the gun loosening slightly.

With a swift, practiced motion, you lunge forward, aiming to disarm him. The robber reacts quickly, pulling the trigger just as you reach him.

 gun gungungun MOVE

 The gunshot echoes in the confined space, and you feel a sharp, searing pain in your side.

You hiss in pain. FUCK. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten seriously hurt. Your senses couldn’t move you out of the way, you were too close. Your senses are going haywire, they aren’t sure what to do at the moment. There's that familiar poking feeling in your gums. Your body leaps over the counter, tackling the man to the floor. Your fangs fully unsheath and you make sure that the struggle blocks what you're doing from view.

You yank his arm to the side, grabbing the gun out of hand as your teeth sink into his wrist. Your venom pumps into his body. The robber yelps at the pain, before his body gradually stops struggling, slumping.

Paralyzing venom, Miguel had deduced, like his. 

You push him away, standing up, wiping away the blood and hot pink liquid around your mouth. You clutch your side where the bullet hit. The pain is intense, but you force yourself to stay focused. The robber lies on the floor, paralyzed and unable to move (not permanently, of course).

You take deep breaths, trying to slow down your heart in order to slow down the blood. The cafe is in chaos, with customers wailing and crying. You look down at the gun in your hands, unloading it and throwing the mag somewhere. Sam, Garrett, and Carrie rush out from the back, their faces filled with shock.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Sam asks, rushing to your side.

“Shit, kid. That was stupid,” scolds Garrent, putting pressure on the wound. Carrie quickly takes charge, calling the police and trying to calm down the customers. There’s a sudden rush of wind, sending napkins flying and causing yelps from customers.

Jon, no, Superboy is in the entryway of the cafe. He’s hovering slightly, cape billowing in the wind. His eyes are wide, looking straight at you. There’s an arm wrapped around his shoulder. Is that… Robin? Robin, hanging off of Superboy's shoulder. Wait, no, he’s hopped off of him, now he’s walking… oh, he’s right in front of you.

“I’ll take it from here.” His voice leaves no room for argument. He crowds you into his arms, leaning you against him. His hand presses into your wound, eliciting a grunt from you. He shushes you softly.

Police cars skirt to a stop outside. Officers rush inside, quickly getting the robber in cuffs. The hustle and bustle distract you from the pain momentarily. Superboy rushes over to you two.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” he mutters, hands finding your face.

“No,” you and Robin say at the same time. You blink at him.

“What?” Superboy growled.

“I don’t trust them to deal with this,” is all Robin says. The reason you didn’t want to go to a hospital was because one, you have no type of insurance whatsoever and two, your physiology is not exactly normal. Ah shit, your vision is getting spotty.

You take a deep breath, trying to stay focused despite the pain and the spotty vision. "I can handle it," you say, trying to sound confident.

“No, you can’t,” scold Robin and Superboy in sync. Superboy scoops you up in his arms, looking at Robin. “Your choice,” he says.

Robin looks at you, snuggled in Superboy's arms. You're blinking slowly, vision getting blurry. He looks down at gloves, covered with your blood. It’s quiet while he thinks, the loud chatter of the scene fading away. Then, he nods.

“The cave.”

It’s the last thing you hear before your vision fades completely.

notes: man what is it with my readers and getting shot by an asshole robbing a cafe of all places LOL

[calisources]

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒.

All of these sentences are mostly taking by my own mind and i'm not joking. It was hard finding material quotes regarding tournaments in historical or fantasy setting. Some are from shows or media but eighty percent is all from my own mind, please give credit if use these. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit. All of these involve the medieval event of a tournament and what happens around them.

I fear I am already bending far too many rules just by taking you, my young princess.

Show me your hands, you will have blisters soon.

Lady Eglantine doesn’t believe in love, only lust.

In the world of competition, only the strongest shall prevail.

A true champion is not defined by their victories, but by the obstacles they've overcome.

Victory is sweetest when it's earned through sweat, hard work, and determination.

Will you not participate in the tourney, my lord? 

May I have the honor of wearing your favor today, my lady?

Good luck to you, my Prince.

The tournament is not just a test of skill, but a test of character as well.

Is it always this bloody? Will those poor men die? Someone must see them.

I want him to wear my favor.  Only him. 

If he wins, the knight has the right to name his Queen of Love and Beauty. And at the feast, they shall dance.

Be careful. A tourney is a grand place for courtly love, but also, for blood to rise and affairs to appear.

Call me what you like, say I'm without honor, I don't care. I'm not getting on any more horses to whack you people with a stick.

Kings may be chosen by God, but they still make the mistakes of men.

When even those who rule can sink this low, it is not possible to change anything.

It's my lucky charm, be sure to bring it back to me.

My favorite blue ribbon. Take it.

It will bring you good fortune and you will return from joust unharmed.

I was hoping to ask for the Princess's favor.

How about a kiss, for luck?

Courtly love was the culture around the performance of love at court.

And now, rather than admit these feelings, you're dancing around one another with this mind-numbing and frankly boorish mating ritual.

The knights take on the duties of shadows with pride.

Whoever wins the tournament, shall become the prince/princess’ new betrothed.

You want to marry my daughter? Prove yourself worthy.

Petyr survived only because I begged Brandon not to kill him.

When Petyr heard of my engagement, he challenged Brandon to a duel. 

You do qualify to marry my daughter.

What matters most is who she will give her favor to. 

Her face is one that can create dynasties or crumble empires.

I was hoping for a word before you rode on the tourney, my Prince. 

My brother is the one competing against you, please be gentle with him.

The games are done for the day, please, feast and drink as you wish. 

You have been staring all day, my lord. I was beginning to wonder if I had something in my face.

Any damsel that's in distress - she'll be out of that dress when she meets Jim West.

Great men do not seek power... they have power thrust upon them.

My daughter seems. . .infatuated with you. I have yet to see why.

The princess is naive and thinks any man who is kind means well. A tournament will only show her the reality of life.

You honor the arena with your combat. May your swords and shield preserve the peace.

In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining.

I will be brave for Princess Pea.

As a squire, your first duty is to your knight’s armor. Your knight’s armor is more important than your own life. 

You will be knighted and you will have earned your knighthood.

You are hurt. At least let me tend to your wound.

The men laugh and fight and the ladies search for husbands.

Nothing like a good tournament to find a husband, or a companion for the night. 

Rumors are always spread with ease in these.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?

You say I'll never get your blessing till the day I die.

We're married now, but we still haven't told your dad. This is the right time.

Are you promised to someone?

My sister's getting married. It's a love match. A rare thing. I’m not so lucky. My husband is to be chosen by who can hold a sword the longer.

Why can’t women participate in the games?

There are games for the ladies, Your Grace. But they are less. . .gruesome. And of course, the dancing.

Princes and Princess all over the realm and across the sea are coming for this event. You must shine brighter.

Let me help you with your armor. It appears loose.

As I promised, I return your favor to you, my lady. 

The Prince never loses a joust. He will crown his queen and then all will be well.

I do not understand the appeal of this. 

I spend days making these favors, let me stay a little longer.

My lady, I do not need your favor to win, but perhaps, a kiss of good faith. 

I do not care who wins these games, your hand is already arranged for another.

Men are scoundrel, specially when blood runs hot after a good battle, stray away from them.

These games are done in honor of the king’s heir.

The lord’s daughter is said to have bloomed, and the man chooses to announce it like this. 

A tournament is for men to boost their strength, fathers sell their daughters like mares and for affairs to happen.

I saw you on the stands today, my lord. But you did not participate on the games.

My brother wishes to dance with you, my lady. He is all too shy to ask himself.

You were injured. Have you allowed someone to heal them or are you too stubborn to let them?

Princess, you must not stray too far away. 

Mother is too drunk and annoyed to care, she won’t mind. 

[soleilnewspaper]

Broken promises

Series masterlist

Summary: Regulus reminds you of a promise you made to him in childhood and how you have broken it. You return from a weekend trip to find Remus in the hospital wing. Sirius knows he can’t hide Remus’s condition for you any longer.

Pairing: platonic Regulus x fem!reader, poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, fighting with friends, feeling inadequate, cliffhanger, talks of blood and bruises (from the full moon)

Word count: 1.9k

AN: I’m terribly ill and doc ordered me to say in bed, so sleep and write is all I have done today lol. Sorry it’s a little short. Thank you for your time :)

December 24th, 1970

Number 12 Grimmauld Place, North West of London, hidden from the eyes of muggles. The Black family took pride in the fact that they were hosting the Yule Eve dinner party. They were Pureblood royalty after all.

The house was decorated in festive decorations for the upcoming Yule celebrations custom of the sacred 28 society. The food alone could surely feed an entire orphanage.

A young Regulus, at a mere nine years old yet dressed far better than most adults. The scratchy material of his dress robes had been bothering him from the moment his mother had forced him into them. His black locs were combed back with magical gel to ensure he remained perfect for the night.

Clasped his small hand, you ran along with him. The frills from your pink dress made it difficult to much. It overwhelmed your body. You thought you looked like a large ball of cotton candy. Which your mother had scolded you for even thinking such a thing.

Trails of pristine white ribbons once worn in your hair now lay tossed on the freshly polished floors of the manor. Your house elf had been ordered by your mother to ‘tame’ your hair earlier that night. Hours of work had been in vain as your locs had bounced back only moments ago. Sliver jewerly adorned your neck sparkling in the candle lit hallway.

Kreacher had turned a blind eye to your ‘escape’ from the dinner. Neither of your mothers had noticed your absence yet. Something which both Regulus and you were beyond grateful for. Merlin knows what your punishment would be for daring to participate in such childish behaviour. For, being a pureblood meant you never were a child. You were simply an investment.

Regulus was the spare, the second choice, a precautionary measure that his parents had taken should Sirius prove to not be eligible. You, on the other hand, were born a girl. Which meant you were to be married off the moment you were of legal age. Although you had heard the stories of girls who had been forced to marry long before that. Your potential husband would be most likely related to you in some way.

Your mother would often gossip about how the Black Family ‘kept things in the family’ in reference to how cousins married each other frequently. However, truth be told, all pureblood were related in some way or other. Pureblood had been facing excitation for centuries. In order to keep their lines ‘pure’ they needed to dip their toes into the pool of incest. The sacred 28 all crossed over if you were to look close enough. Which is why you thought your mother to be a hypocrite.

Regulus pulled you into a nock in the attic. Whilst you were still in a fit of giggles.

“My lady.” Regulus pretended to bow, taking an old feathered hat on and then off his head.

“Why thank you, kind sir.” You responded through a set of giggles. Giving him a curtse in return, just as your mother had taught you.

Regulus took your hand and guided you to sit down with him on the floor, placing his suit jacket down to avoid you getting your dress dirty. You picked up the ends of your dress to try make it easier on you to sit down. A proof sound was heard the second you touched the floor. As you quite literally fell on your ass from the sheer size of the dress. Your mother was a beautiful woman but her style was eccentric to say the least. She had dressed your sister and brother in a similar fashion, both of who were being good children and still in the dining hall.

“Will you consider promising me something, Y/N?” The boy’s language was far better than most adults you knew. Pureblood society doing of course. You were both already fluent in Latin and Greek while Regulus knew French as well. It being his family’s main language after all.

“Whatever do you mean, Reggie?” You asked in the same tone. Frowning your small brows in confusion.

“Would it be to much to ask, if you could promise to be mine forever.” His statement confused you at first causing him to explain further. “We both know our mothers will marry us off one of these days, but please choose me, your friend first.”

“As long as you promise to choose me always and forever.” You smiled back at him.

“Best friends before lovers?” Regulus asked you unsure of himself.

“I would rather have live a life with no love, than live one without you as my friend.” You took ahold of his hand gently.

“I do not wish to condemn you to a love of loneliness, Y/N.” He dropped his hand from yours, fearing he was asking you too much with your friendship.

“Reggie, with you by my side, I could never be lonely.” That had earned you a smile from him, a one larger than you had ever seen before.

Present time

Regulus Arcturus Black would never be your lover. No, your bond proceeded that of romantic expectations. Your bond would always be platonic, but it would be the deepest bond you would ever have. For your souls wore bind together in no way a lover could understand. Even if it was a childish desire to ask for your loyalty forever. To chose him over everyone else in the world. You knew, that in truth, there was only one person he had asked you to never choose over him. His brother. Which is exactly what you had done. The one thing he had begged of you all those years ago, you had done without hesitation. Breaking his trust doesn’t even cover the cost your newfound relationship had taken to your oldest one.

He was not angry nor was he upset with you. Regulus felt hurt, betrayed even. In all his life, he had lived with the expectation that he would always be second best. Only this past summer had his parents began to pay attention to him after Sirius had left home. Officially disowning their eldest, made Regulus their heir. He was only valued once Sirius was gone. For once in his life, people had began to look at him instead. It had been a long time coming, since the moment Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. The light slowly began to shift to the younger brother. Yet, never completely, not until now. Within the span of a few weeks he had become the star of the family. A fact which had only served to make him bitter because he knew the care of his family was conditional. For they had hardly offered him a look before he was proved to be their last hope of salvation.

The worse part was Sirius believed Regulus was the first choice. When in fact he had never been someone’s first choice in anything. That is excluding you. Regulus had always been your first choice. It was something which he had come to held dearly in the span of his fifteen years of life.

Despite being a few months younger than Sirius, and almost a whole year older than Regulus. You had chosen to be his friend. As children, your mother urged you to make connection with Sirius, but you never did. Regulus was who you chose to spend your time with. Up until Hogwarts neither one of you had any real friends besides each other. Barty did not run in the same circles as the two of you before Hogwarts. The rosier twins didn’t form a friendship with you until Regulus’s first year at Hogwarts which had been their first too.

He had only asked one thing of you, and you could not give him that. You now understood his anger. Yet you still felt defensive as you were in a vulnerable state.

“You do not get to held a childish promise over my head!” You yelled, your voice reaching across the common room.

“It is not about the promise, Y/N.” Regulus stated with lips pulled into a thin unreadable expression.

“Then what is it about, Regulus?” Anger severed through your throat as you spoke.

“Rage does not consume me for the mere fact of your entanglement in a romantic relationship. As one of your closest friends, I comprehend that it is beyond my jurisdiction to dictate the auspices under which you choose to allocate your precious hours. Yet, I implored solely that you not date my own brother.” Regulus paced around the room, his hand running through hair multiple times before he turned to face you directly.

“For it is your preference that leans towards him, and no longer me. He is accustomed to being selected first and foremost in all things. I am not. Barty, Evan, Pandora and you were mine; untill you chose me over me. The one thing you promised, swore, you would never do.” Regulus voice no longer held anger, it was filled with hurt. He pointed a a finger towards your chest to further his point. Breathless as he spoke.

“Reg…” You moved towards him but he flinched away from your touch. “My relationship with him does not change the friendship I have with you.”

“Liar.”

“You say that, yet you continue to be with him. To chose him.” Regulus walked away from you but you followed without hesitation.

“You are being over dramatic.”

“Am I, so am I to just discard the only person who truly understands me. In order to allow you to satisfy your desires.” Regulus used the boot of his shoe to kick the table lightly.

“You do not mean that.” Tears were beginning to form in your eyes.

“What other choice have you given me?” Regulus breathed out barely forming words.

“I never intended to lose you, Reg.”

“Oh, well then everything is sorted. Is it not. Far be it that I have feelings and reactions to your actions.”

“Please, stop, I beg of you.” Your voice was pleading with him now.

“Would you do one decency?”

“Anything.”

“Tell me why did it have to be him.” You heard the crack in his voice as he spoke. Arms at his side and legs planted on the floor.

You squeezed your eyes shut at his question. Knowing whatever your answer would only serve to hurt him further.

“I fell for him. I tried not to. Believe me I did, but I cannot ignore my feelings anymore. Please forgive me.”

“Forgiveness does not come easy, Y/N.” Regulus eyes roared with anger, but you knew there still lay hurt behind them. “But I don’t want to lose you.”

“Does that mean…” The steps you took towards him were careful and precise to not spook him with your actions.

“I would could never live without your friendship. It pains me so, but I know I have to forgive you, but do not ask me to forgive him.”

Tears pooled in your eyes as the words left his cold lips. Before another moment could pass, you wrapped your arms around his torso. To your surprise he accepted your affection. He had never been one to allow affectionate gestures, it simply was not his way of expressing himself. Yet, in the rare moments when he allowed himself to let another in, his warmth would be unlimited.

“Can I assume I have my best friend back?” Your voice was muffled by Regulus’ green Qudditch jersey.

He pulled away from the hug but kept physical contact with you by placing both of his hands on your sides.

“You never lost me.”

Sounds of students began to fill the common room as they returned from the pitch and great hall. Undoubtedly complaining and/or talking about the lack of victory Slytherin had acquired in today’s events.

“One last thing, Y/N.” Regulus spoke in a hushed tone to avoid being interrupted or ease dropped on.

“Anything.”

“If my brother hurts you, there’s not a place in the world he’d be able to hide from me. Blood may be thicker than water, but my loyalty for you will always outweigh my loyalty for him. Never doubt that for a moment.”

“I appreciate it, but that’s not necessarily-“

“Believe me when I say, negotiation is not an option here. You will lose this argument.” Regulus’s dark eyes were completely serious and his face showed no signs of amusement.

“Is your plan to treat me like a child of divorce?”

“Mmm, we’ll work on the arrangements later.” Regulus smiled at you, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You know you will always be my best friend, right?” You asked taking his hand in yours.

“Don’t tell Barty that, he might kill me.” Regulus leaned into you.

“Well we would’t want that, now would we.”

The life of a pureblood had taught you many things. None of which had seamed to prove helpful in any way shape or form for your current situation.

While you might have seamed to patch things up with Regulus for the most part. Although you still were treading in dangerous waters. At least you could sleep soundly knowing he was willing to come around to the idea. In time, of course.

Yet, you still faced another dilemma; your relationship. Secrets were being kept from you, that was obvious enough, but what the secret was remained a mystery to you.

It didn’t help that Sirius and Remus seamed to have no intention of letting you in on it anytime soon. Taking into consideration how much history the two had, you continued to feel out of place in your own relationship, and feared for how much long you could take it.

For the past three days, you had to be condemned to visiting your oh so loving family. Torture did not even begin to cover it. Though you knew there were pureblood children in worst situations. The Blacks were a prime example. Leading you to appreciate your dysfunctional family because at least they had never used an unforgivable curse on you. To say the bar was low would be an understatement.

So as you walked through the castle walls having returned from your trip. Your mind began to wonder. However, your moment of peace was short lived as you passed the Hospital Wing.

You couldn’t see much but you could see Sirius who was walking towards the door. Through a series of lies, excuses and distractions, the boys had managed to occlude you from Remus’s condition. Yet, your weekend away just so happened to be a full moon. A particularly horrific one in fact. No chance were they going to be able to hide it from you now.

Sirius’s sliver eyes were accompanied by purple eye bags from staying up all night with Remus. Hair fell in disarray and tangles were visible in his usual elegant locs. He appeared gaunt, almost as if the life had been drained out of him.

Upon seeing you, a serge of panic ripped through his entire being.

“Oh Salvar.” You rushed towards him in panic searching his face for signs of injury. It only worked to make him feel more guilty than he already was.

“S’m nothin’.” Tiredness and worry were evident in his voice.

“Sirius, do not take me for a fool.”

“I’m not, honestly, just-“ Whilst barely finding the energy to form words, you interrupted him with rage already approaching.

“What’ll be this time, huh?” Hands fell from his face leaving a cold chill. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, you were beyond rage, you were done.

“It’s not like that, baby.” His voice begged for sympathy but you refused to show the effort he had on you.

“Where’s Remus?”

Sirius’s eyes widen at the thought of you seeing Remus in his current state. You stepped forward to enter the hospital wing causing him to plant himself in front of you. Using his height to block your view. Your flight or fight activated. Making use of the large space of the room you tricked him by making him believe you were headed one way and then pushed past him in the other.

As soon as you had escaped his gasp, Sirius ran after you in panic. However, with our tired he was, he didn’t have the strength to carry through.

Remus lay curled up on the hospital bed. Bandages surrounded his body in multiple places. Most seamed clean but others had large red stains from blood. Bruises and cuts decorated his body like Christmas lights. The beautiful brown eyes that you had come to cherish so dearly had taken on a dull hue. With dark circles surround them and bloodshot eyes. His hair stuck up in all different directions filled with dirt and a sneer of blood.

A whine escaped the thin werewolf when he turned on his side to see who had entered. His eyes struggled to focus for a few moments to depict your figure, but when he did, he swore he felt just like he did before people knew about his secret. Ashamed, scared, horrified all mixed into self loathing.

“Remus?” You managed to choke out through the tears that had began to form in your eyes upon seeing him.

“Hey, dovie.”

Taglist: @maraudersforlife2005 @xlxnq

[hardlyinteresting]

A thorough analysis of medals, ribbons, and awards in Top Gun: Maverick

Have you ever wanted to know what medals The Dagger Squad and company wear in TGM? I did, and then I just kept reading and then I started a google doc and now I have a list I can share with all of you! (I feel like my brain might actually be melting)

I have done my absolute best to identify as many of their medals/ribbons as possible based on the clearest images I could find, and I have tried my best to comment on how realistic they may be for these characters. The photos I referenced for this deep dive are included at the bottom of this post.

Analysis below the cut

LT. Jake “Hangman” Seresin He wears 9 ribbons on his uniform. 

Air Medal (is awarded for single acts of heroism or meritorious achievement while participating in aerial flight.)

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of of heroism or meritorious service) *Jake wears an additional device on his but it doesn’t look like a star. It is likely a bronze “V” for valour worn to denote that the award was given for combat heroism. 

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.) *Jake wears 2 bronze stars on this ribbon indicating he has been given this award 3 times.

Navy Unit Commendation (awarded to members of a unit that displayed outstanding acts of heroism). 

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Afghanistan Campaign medal (The Afghanistan Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Afghanistan (or its airspace) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.) * The pin Jake wears on his ribbon looks like a Fleet Marine Force combat operation insignia indicates that he may have been assigned to a unit that operated under a Marine Corps attachment and carried out duties under the Marine Corps operational control 

Inherent Resolve Campaign Medal (medal may be awarded to members of the U.S. Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, and Coast Guard, for service in Iraq, Syria, or contiguous waters or airspace) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have supported operations to counter-terrorism anywhere in the world any time after 2001) 

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.) *Jake wears two stars on his ribbon. I can’t tell if they are silver or bronze. Bronze would indicate he has met this criteria 3 times during his service. Two silver stars would 10. Both are possible for his character. 

From what I can tell, and the research I have done, Jake’s medals make sense for his age, rank, and experience level. They all seem to be displayed in the correct order of precedence. 

LT. Natasha “Pheonix” Trace Natasha also wears 9 ribbons on her uniform. 

Air Medal (is awarded for single acts of heroism or meritorious achievement while participating in aerial flight.)

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of of heroism or meritorious service) *Natasha wears hers with 2 bronze stars which would indicate that she has received the commendation 3 times. 

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.) *Natasha wears 2 bronze stars on this ribbon indicating she has been given this award 3 times.

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Afghanistan Campaign Medal (The Afghanistan Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Afghanistan (or its airspace) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.)

Inherent Resolve Campaign Medal (medal may be awarded to members of the U.S. Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, and Coast Guard, for service in Iraq, Syria, or contiguous waters or airspace) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have supported operations to counter-terrorism anywhere in the world any time after 2001) 

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.) *Natasha wears a pin/device on her ribbon, though it’s significantly smaller than the stars she wears on her other ribbons. The only devices authorized to be worn with this ribbon are bronze or silver stars, so I’m unsure what it is. 

NATO Medal (The NATO Medal is a decoration presented by the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) to recognize international NATO military members who have participated in various peacekeeping operations.) However, there are 10 different variations and versions of this medal and I can’t see in enough detail to confirm which one it is that Natasha wears. 

Again, from the research I’ve done, the ribbons that Natasha wears seem to make sense for her age, rank, and experience level. I have not been able to confirm if her NATO ribbon is in the correct order of presence, but I do believe it is. 

LT. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

I can find only one image of him in his uniform and wearing his ribbons. However, I would have to assume that it’s an older photo and would have been taken long before the beginning of the beginning of the TGM film timeline and that he would have more by the time we see him on screen. I would also expect that having his papers pulled and being held back in his career timeline may have changed things for him as well. But, he’s wearing 8 ribbons in the photo. This could be a continuity error but I have no way of knowing for sure. Alas, I can only break down what I can see. (But if anyone can find me a still from the film where we can see his current ribbons I’d be over the moon). 

Air Medal (is awarded for single acts of heroism or meritorious achievement while participating in aerial flight.)

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of of heroism or meritorious service) *Bradley wears his with 2 bronze stars which would indicate that he has received the commendation 3 times. 

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.) *Bradley wears 2 bronze stars on this ribbon indicating he has been given this award 3 times.

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Afghanistan Campaign Medal (The Afghanistan Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Afghanistan (or its airspace) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.)

Inherent Resolve Campaign Medal (medal may be awarded to members of the U.S. Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, and Coast Guard, for service in Iraq, Syria, or contiguous waters or airspace) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have supported operations to counter-terrorism anywhere in the world any time after 2001) 

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.) *Bradley wears two silver stars on his ribbon which would indicate that he has met this criteria 10 times. 

Beyond the question of timeline, I would say that these ribbons all make sense for his level of experience, his rank, and his age. The ribbons all seem to be displayed in the correct order of precedence. 

LT. Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia  Mickey wears eight ribbons on his uniform. 

Air Medal (is awarded for single acts of heroism or meritorious achievement while participating in aerial flight.)

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of of heroism or meritorious service) *Mickey wears his with 2 bronze stars which would indicate that he has received the commendation 3 times. 

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.) *Mickey wears 1 bronze star on this ribbon indicating he has been given this award 2 times.

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Afghanistan Campaign Medal (The Afghanistan Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Afghanistan (or its airspace) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.)

Inherent Resolve Campaign Medal (medal may be awarded to members of the U.S. Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, and Coast Guard, for service in Iraq, Syria, or contiguous waters or airspace) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have supported operations to counter-terrorism anywhere in the world any time after 2001) 

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.) *Mickey wears two bronze stars on his ribbon which would indicate that he has met this criteria 3 times. 

From what I can tell, and the research I have done, all of these medals make sense for his age, rank, and experience level. They all seem to be displayed in the correct order of precedence. 

LT. Reuben “Payback” Fitch  Reuben wears 9 ribbons on his uniform

Air Medal (is awarded for single acts of heroism or meritorious achievement while participating in aerial flight.)

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of of heroism or meritorious service) *Reuben wears his with 1 star, but I can’t quite tell for sure if it’s bronze or silver. One bronze star would indicate that he has received the commendation 2times. One Silver star would indicate 5 times. Both would be possible. 

 Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal (Awarded to members of the U.S. Armed Forces who, after July 1, 1958, participated in U.S. military operations, U.S. operations in direct support of the United Nations, or U.S. operations of assistance for friendly foreign nations). It is hard to tell from the photos I have if this is for sure the correct medal, but it’s the only one that fits the colour order I can see. 

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.) *Reuben wears his with 2 bronze stars indicating he’s been given this award 3 times. 

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Afghanistan Campaign Medal (The Afghanistan Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Afghanistan (or its airspace) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.)

Inherent Resolve Campaign Medal (medal may be awarded to members of the U.S. Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, and Coast Guard, for service in Iraq, Syria, or contiguous waters or airspace) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have supported operations to counter-terrorism anywhere in the world any time after 2001) 

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.) *Rueben wears one star on his ribbon. I cannot confirm whether it is a bronze star or a silver star. A bronze star would indicate that he has met this criteria 3 times. A silver star would indicate he met this criteria 10 times. 

If the third ribbon Rueben wears is the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal I am 95% sure it would be in the wrong order. I believe it should come after his Afghanistan Campaign medal and before his Inherent Resolve Campaign medal for them to be displayed in the correct order of precedence. 

LT. Robert “BOB” Floyd Robert wears seven ribbons on his uniform. 

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of of heroism or meritorious service) *Bob wears his with 2 bronze stars which would indicate that he has received the commendation 3 times. 

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.) *Bob wears 2 bronze stars on this ribbon indicating he has been given this award 3 times.

Navy Unit Commendation (awarded to members of a unit that displayed outstanding acts of heroism). 

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Inherent Resolve Campaign Medal (medal may be awarded to members of the U.S. Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, and Coast Guard, for service in Iraq, Syria, or contiguous waters or airspace) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have supported operations to counter-terrorism anywhere in the world any time after 2001) 

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.) *Bob wears a pin/device on this ribbon, though it’s significantly smaller than the stars he wears on his other ribbons. The only devices authorized to be worn with this ribbon are bronze or silver stars, so I’m unsure what it is. 

From what I can tell, and the research I have done, all of these medals make sense for his age, rank, and experience level. They all seem to be displayed in the correct order of precedence. 

LT. Javy “Coyote” Machado Javy wears nine ribbons.

Air Medal (is awarded for single acts of heroism or meritorious achievement while participating in aerial flight.)

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of of heroism or meritorious service) *Javy  wears his with 2 star bronze stars so he has been given this commendation 3 times. 

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.) *Javy wears 1 bronze star on this ribbon indicating he has been given this award 2 times.

Navy Unit Commendation (awarded to members of a unit that displayed outstanding acts of heroism). 

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Afghanistan Campaign Medal (The Afghanistan Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Afghanistan (or its airspace) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.)

Inherent Resolve Campaign Medal (medal may be awarded to members of the U.S. Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, and Coast Guard, for service in Iraq, Syria, or contiguous waters or airspace) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have supported operations to counter-terrorism anywhere in the world any time after 2001) 

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.) *Javy wears what looks like one bronze star on this ribbon which would indicate he has met this criteria twice. But I haven’t been able to find a clear enough image to confirm. 

From what I can tell, and the research I have done, all of these medals make sense for his age, rank, and experience level. They all seem to be displayed in the correct order of precedence. 

CWO Bernie “Hondo” Coleman Hondo wears 15 ribbons on his uniform

Purple Heart (Given to members of the US Military who have been wounded or killed in any action against an enemy of the United States or as a result of an act of any such enemy or opposing armed forces)

Meritorious Service Medal (presented to members of the United States Armed Forces who distinguish themselves with outstanding meritorious achievement or service to the United States.)

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of of heroism or meritorious service) *Hondo wears his with 1  bronze star so he has been given this commendation twice. 

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.) *Hondo wears 1 bronze star on this ribbon indicating he has been given this award 2 times.

Meritorious Unit Commendation (awarded to members of a unit who have shown Valorous or meritorious achievement or service, or exceptionally meritorious conduct and outstanding achievement or service, in combat or non-combat.)

Navy E Ribbon (Awarded to service members who were on permanent duty aboard a U.S. Navy ship or in a unit that won a battle efficiency competition after July 1, 1974.)* Hondo wears a silver wreathed E pin on his ribbon showing he has received this award 5 or more times. 

Good Conduct Medal (awarded to any active duty enlisted member of the United States military who completes three consecutive years of "honorable and faithful service," without any non-judicial punishment, disciplinary infractions, or court martial offenses.)

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Afghanistan Campaign Medal (The Afghanistan Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Afghanistan (or its airspace) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.)

Iraq Campaign Medal (The Iraq Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Iraq  (or its territorial waters) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.)

Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal (For  military service members who have deployed overseas in direct service to the War on Terror starting from 2001 to a date to be determined.) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have supported operations to counter-terrorism anywhere in the world any time after 2001) 

Armed Forces Service Medal (Awarded to Service members who have participated in “significant action” for which no other service or campaign medal is authorized, ie. military operation that did not encounter foreign armed opposition or imminent hostile action)

Humanitarian Service Medal (Awarded to service members who partake in military acts or operations which are deemed to be humanitarian in nature) 

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.)

His Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal from what I understand would have later been replaced with the Afghanistan and Iraq Campaign Medals which he has also received and wears. He would not have received all three, so this is odd. Regardless, the ribbons he wears are in the correct order of precedence and make sense for his age and rank. However, I have less direct context and understanding of his role as a Chief Warrant Officer and what his career path may have looked like compared to the Dager Squad members and cannot comment on whether or not he is missing any that you may expect to see on a CWO. 

CAPT. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell Maverick wears 22 ribbons on his uniform

Silver Star Medal (awarded primarily to members of the United States Armed Forces for gallantry in action against an enemy of the United States. It is the third-highest decoration for valour in combat)

Legion of Merit (for exceptionally meritorious conduct in the performance of outstanding services and achievements.)

Defense Meritorious Service Medal (For members of the armed forces who while serving in a joint activity showed outstanding achievement or meritorious service in non-combat situations, but not of a degree to warrant award of the Defense Superior Service Medal.)

Meritorious Service Medal (awarded to those who have shown meritorious achievement or service to the United States.)

Air Medal (is awarded for single acts of heroism or meritorious achievement while participating in aerial flight.) *Mav wears a bronze pin device on his ribbon on the second yellow stripe. This is usually a strike/flight numerals device. I cannot make out the number, but this would serve to indicate the number of Strike/Flight awards given for operations in hostile territory and count the total number of Strikes (operations that faced enemy opposition) and Flights (operations that did not encounter enemy opposition) added together.

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of of heroism or meritorious service) *Mav wears his with 3 silver stars implying he has received this award a total of 15 times

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.)

Combat Action Ribbon (Given to United States Sea Service Members who have actively participated in ground or surface combat)

Joint Meritorious Unit Award (given to joint units or units tasked with a joint mission where they have displayed meritorious achievement or service beyond what is normally expected, or for actions in combat with an armed enemy of the, a declared national emergency, or under extraordinary circumstances of national interest)

Navy E Ribbon (Awarded to service members who were on permanent duty aboard a U.S. Navy ship or in a unit that won a battle efficiency competition after July 1, 1974.)* Mav wears a silver E pin on his ribbon showing he has received this award 2 times. 

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Armed Forces Service Medal (Awarded to Service members who have participated in “significant action” for which no other service or campaign medal is authorized, ie. military operation that did not encounter foreign armed opposition or imminent hostile action)

South West Asia Service Medal (Awarded to those who participated in operations in South West Asia between 1990 and 1995. Including participation in operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm. Operations and support may have been carried out in any of the following nations and/or areas: Iraq, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Oman, Bahrain, Qatar, United Arab Emirates, Israel, Eygpt, Türkiye, Syria, Jordan, Persian Gulf, Red Sea, Gulf of Oman, Gulf of Aden) *Mav wears 2 bronze stars indicating he served in 2 of 3 major campaigns. His bronze stars are pinned in the incorrect positions however, they should not be centred side by side, but rather one on each of the inside yellow stripes. 

Afghanistan Campaign Medal (The Afghanistan Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Afghanistan (or its airspace) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.) *Maverick wears two bronze stars on this ribbon indicating he served during 2 of the 6 campaign phases. Once again his stars are in the incorrect positions. Instead of being centred side by side, they should each be on each of the inner black stripes. 

Iraq Campaign Medal (The Iraq Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Iraq  (or its territorial waters) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.) *Maverick wears two bronze stars on this ribbon indicating he served during 2 of the 7 campaign phases. Once again his stars are in the incorrect positions. Instead of being centred side by side, they should each be on each of the inner black stripes.

Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal (For  military service members who have deployed overseas in direct service to the War on Terror starting from 2001 to a date to be determined.) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have supported operations to counter-terrorism anywhere in the world any time after 2001) 

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.)

United Nations Medal (award for any action in which a member of the military participated in a joint UN activity)

Kuwait Liberation Medal (Awarded by the government of Kuwait to regional and foreign military personnel who served during the Gulf War’s “Liberation of Kuwait” campaign phase between 1990 and 1993. 

Navy Rifle Marksmanship Ribbon (Issued to members of the Navy, Air Force, and Coast Guard who pass their weapons qualification course with an above-average score) *Mav wears an E on his ribbon indicating that he has achieved an “expert” qualification. 

Navy Pistol Marksmanship Ribbon (Issued to members of the Navy, Air Force, and Coast Guard who pass their weapons qualification course with an above-average score) *Mav wears an E on his ribbon indicating that he has achieved an “expert” qualification. 

His Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal from what I understand would have later been replaced with the Afghanistan and Iraq Campaign Medals which he has also received and wears. He would not have received all three, so this is odd. Regardless, the ribbons he wears are in the correct order of precedence and make sense for his age and rank. I do have questions about how many years he’s been serving and only making it to the rank of Captain but he also has not received, or at least does not wear any ribbons for good conduct, and he is known to rock the boat so I will suspend my disbelief.

VADM. Beau “Cyclone” Simpson  Cyclone wears 19 ribbons on his uniform 

Bronze Star Medal (heroic achievement, heroic service, meritorious achievement, or meritorious service in a combat zone.)

Purple Heart (Given to members of the US Military who have been wounded or killed in any action against an enemy of the United States or as a result of an act of any such enemy or opposing armed forces)

Meritorious Service Medal (awarded to those who have shown meritorious achievement or service to the United States.)

Joint Service Commendation Medal (meritorious achievement or service in a joint duty capacity.)

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of heroism or meritorious service) *Beau wears his with 2 silver stars so he has been given this commendation 10 times. 

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.) *Cyclone wears 2 bronze stars on this ribbon indicating he has been given this award 3 times.

Navy Unit Commendation (awarded to members of a unit that displayed outstanding acts of heroism). *Cyclone wears a device on this ribbon, it’s not a star, but from what I’ve read there are no other devices authorized to wear with this ribbon.  

Navy  Meritorious Unit Commendation ( for valorous or meritorious achievement or service in combat or non-combat situations) 

Navy E Ribbon (Awarded to service members who were on permanent duty aboard a U.S. Navy ship or in a unit that won a battle efficiency competition after July 1, 1974.)* Cyclone wears a silver E pin with a wreath on his ribbon showing he has received this award 5 times. 

Good Conduct Medal (awarded to any active duty enlisted member of the United States military who completes three consecutive years of "honourable and faithful service," without any non-judicial punishment, disciplinary infractions, or court martial offences.) *Beau wears what looks to be 2 stars on this ribbon. I cannot tell what colour they are. 2 bronze would me he’s received this award 3 times for 9 consecutive years of honorable service. 2 silver would mean he’s received this award 10 times for 30 consecutive years of honorable service. However, before 1996 they were awarded every 4 years. So I think we’re likely looking at between 20-25 years of service, which makes sense for his rank. 

Navy Expeditionary Medal ( Awarded to enlisted Navy service members who were confirmed to have landed on foreign territory and engaged in operations against armed opposition) 

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Iraq Campaign Medal (The Iraq Campaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Iraq  (or its territorial waters) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have deployed in support of the War on Terror to locations beyond Iraq and Afghanistan.) 

Global War on Terrorism Service Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have supported operations to counter-terrorism anywhere in the world any time after 2001) 

UNIDENTIFIED SERVICE MEDAL

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.) *Beau wears what looks like one bronze star on this ribbon which would indicate he has met this criteria twice. But I haven’t been able to find a clear enough image to confirm. 

Navy Rifle Marksmanship Ribbon (Issued to members of the Navy, Air Force, and Coast Guard who pass their weapons qualification course with an above-average score) *Beau wears an E on his ribbon indicating that he has achieved an “expert” qualification. 

Navy Pistol Marksmanship Ribbon (Issued to members of the Navy, Air Force, and Coast Guard who pass their weapons qualification course with an above-average score) *Cyclone wears an E on his ribbon indicating that he has achieved an “expert” qualification. 

His Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal, from what I understand, would have later been replaced with his Iraq Campaign Medal which he has also received and wears. He would not have received both, so this is odd. Regardless, the ribbons he wears are in the correct order of precedence and make sense for his age and rank. However, I have less direct context and understanding of his role as a Vice Admiral and what his career path may have looked like compared to the Dager Squad members, and cannot comment on whether or not he is missing any that you may expect to see on a VADM. 

RADM. Solomon “Warlock” Bates Warlock wears 22 ribbons on his uniform

Legion of Merit (for exceptionally meritorious conduct in the performance of outstanding services and achievements.)

Bronze Star Medal (heroic achievement, heroic service, meritorious achievement, or meritorious service in a combat zone.)

Purple Heart (Given to members of the US Military who have been wounded or killed in any action against an enemy of the United States or as a result of an act of any such enemy or opposing armed forces)

Meritorious Service Medal (awarded to those who have shown meritorious achievement or service to the United States.)

Joint Service Commendation Medal (meritorious achievement or service in a joint duty capacity.)

Navy / Marine Corps commendation medal (is awarded for sustained acts of heroism or meritorious service) 

Navy / Marine Corps Achievement Medal (awarded to those who have performed commendably in routine duties or exceptional achievements, that a higher award has not recognised.) 

Navy Unit Commendation (awarded to members of a unit that displayed outstanding acts of heroism).

UNIDENTIFIED SERVICE MEDAL

Navy E Ribbon (Awarded to service members who were on permanent duty aboard a U.S. Navy ship or in a unit that won a battle efficiency competition after July 1, 1974.)* Warlock wears 3 silver E pins on his ribbon showing he has received this award 4 times. 

Good Conduct Medal (awarded to any active duty enlisted member of the United States military who completes three consecutive years of "honourable and faithful service," without any non-judicial punishment, disciplinary infractions, or court martial offences.) *Solomon wears what looks to be 2 stars on this ribbon. I cannot tell what colour they are. 2 bronze would me he’s received this award 3 times for 9 consecutive years of honorable service. 2 silver would mean he’s received this award 10 times for 30 consecutive years of honorable service. However, before 1996 they were awarded every 4 years. So I think we’re likely looking at between 20-25 years of service, which makes sense for his rank. 

Navy Expeditionary Medal ( Awarded to enlisted Navy service members who were confirmed to have landed on foreign territory and engaged in operations against armed opposition) 

National Defense Service Ribbon (It was awarded to every member of the U.S. Armed Forces who served during any one of four specified periods of armed conflict or national emergency from June 27, 1950, through December 31, 2022.)

Iraq Campaign Medal (The IraqCampaign Medal is awarded to those who performed duty within the borders of Iraq  (or its territorial waters) for a period of thirty consecutive days or sixty non-consecutive days.) *Warlock wears two bronze stars on this ribbon indicating he served during 2 of the 7 campaign phases. Once again his stars are in the incorrect positions. Instead of being centred side by side, they should each be on each of the inner black stripes.

Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal (For  military service members who have deployed overseas in direct service to the War on Terror starting from 2001 to a date to be determined.) 

Global War on Terrorism Medal (Awarded to members of the United States military who have deployed in support of the War on Terror to locations beyond Iraq and Afghanistan.) 

Humanitarian Service Medal (Awarded to service members who partake in military acts or operations which are deemed to be humanitarian in nature) 

Navy/ Marine Corps Sea Service Ribbon (Given to a member of the Navy and Marine Corps who is assigned to a deployable unit operating away from its home port for 90 days or two consecutive periods of at least 80 days within a 12-month period; or six months stationed overseas.) *Warlock wears what looks like 3 bronze star on this ribbon which would indicate he has met this criteria 4 times. But I haven’t been able to find a clear enough image to confirm. 

Navy Overseas Service Ribbon (recognizes those service members who have performed military tours outside the borders of the United States of America. 12 months of consecutive or accumulated duty at an overseas shore-based duty station)

United Nations Medal (award for any action in which a member of the military participated in a joint UN activity)

Navy Rifle Marksmanship Ribbon (Issued to members of the Navy, Air Force, and Coast Guard who pass their weapons qualification course with an above-average score) *Solomon wears an E on his ribbon indicating that he has achieved an “expert” qualification.

Navy Pistol Marksmanship Ribbon (Issued to members of the Navy, Air Force, and Coast Guard who pass their weapons qualification course with an above-average score) *Warlock wears an E on his ribbon indicating that he has achieved an “expert” qualification. 

His Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal, from what I understand, would have later been replaced with his Iraq Campaign Medal which he has also received and wears. He would not have received both, so this is odd. Regardless, the ribbons he wears are in the correct order of precedence and make sense for his age and rank. However, I have less direct context and understanding of his role as a Rear Admiral and what his career path may have looked like compared to the Dager Squad members, and cannot comment on whether or not he is missing any that you may expect to see on a RADM. 

[comingyourlugubriousness]

"Did you know? Each color of bead holds a specific meaning here in the Sunset Savanna, it's common knowledge really."

Here is Yume's outfit for the english releash of Tamashina Mina AKA The Cloudcalling. Since Yume isn't participating in the Bead Brawl they aren't in LionGarb and are opting for a more casual style from the culture. (Or at least my interpretation as Poc).

I had a lot of fun with the design and the beads. I love a good Daishiki design! They ribbon was my take on a matchingish design with Grim's. It was inspired by Ono from the Lion Guard!

The color combination just fits well and honestly, Yume is a nerdy know it all like him sometimes. His role being the keenest of sight and then eventually the "smartest" fits best for Yume's character too.

For their visions and just overall hard work in academics.

I'll def add voicelines later!

[no-see-um-incorrect]

Sam and Vincent play arguing at the Summit 

Sam: nice crown prince.

Vincent: nice suit Duke.

Sam: well, at least I’m not being trotted around like a show pony

Vincent: well, at least I get ribbons and praises, for my looks. But ya know I hear participation trophies are nice but…you already knew that 

Sam: well. I get to hang out with friends and enjoy myself. And not have to be a kiss ass for a bunch of rich Old Vamps.

Vincent: well we can agree on one thing tonight

Sam: oh yea. And what’s that?

Vincent:……our partners look like true fucking royalty 

Sam: amen to that.

*Glass clink*

[honeytonedhottie]

how to have the perfect tea party⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍵

if you've never hosted or participated in a tea party ever i HIGHLY highly recommend it. i love to have tea parties because they make me feel like a PRINCESS, which i absolutely love. also, you can do them with friends which is super fun, or u could have a tea party by yourself which is JUST as fun. the point is, if u haven't done a tea party before, you should totally try it bcuz you'll have lots of fun.

ATTIRE AND DRESSCODE ; as with any event the perfect outfit is a MUST. for tea parties here are some materials, colors and accessories i love to wear ;

frills, lace, ribbons in my hair, ruffles, light and flowy materials for skirts, tops and dresses, pearl jewelry and accessories, baby blue and soft shades of pink and yellow, floral prints, and lacy tops.

for my next tea party i wanna formulate a pastry princess look, a pastry princess look is a look inspired by sweet treats and desserts.

SEND OUT INVITATIONS ; send out handwritten letters to invite ur friends to your tea party! or if u dont wanna make it handwritten, at least customize it digitally and send it to them that way. in the invitation make sure that u give the following information -> the date, time, dress code, and theme

THE TEA AND SNACKS ; little sandwiches, puddings, cupcakes and macaroons, sweet pastries, elaborate fruit platters are all some of my favorite things to enjoy during a tea party. some of my favorite tea party teas include ;

jasmine tea

strawberry and peach oolong blende

rose tea

chamomile

white peony white tea

DECOR ; depending on ur theme for ur tea party the decorations will vary. to touch back on the concept of a theme for ur tea party be CREATIVE. ur theme could literally be anything that u want. i think that the most basic decoration item though is an adorable tea set.

FORMULATE A PLAYLIST ; i love listening to songs like ariana grande's "pov" or kali uchis's "telepatía" and songs like red velvet's "scenery"

i hope that this post inspires you to plan and initiate a super fun and girly tea party either by yourself or with your friends, go have fun ✨

[cheezeybread]

got a fun little request. picture Yuu doing a taste test for Trey for the next unbirthday party. Only... Floyd hears about it and decides to make it a cooking contest with Yuu as a judge. He wants to impress Yuu and show them he can totally do baked goods just as good as Trey. Azul meanwhile probably sees this as a chance to promote the lounge so dollar signs and promotion for him. up to you who wins the contest.

Hey, hey, let him cook!

-Yuu when Floyd shows up to try and make it a competition

This is all written as platonic, although it'd probably be easy to imagine it as romantic heheh

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

"Heeeeey, you don't happen to be craving some extra sweets this week, do ya? :)"

The text from Trey caught you completely off guard, especially since he hadn't texted you in well over two weeks...

Almost as if he could sense your confusion, Trey sent multiple texts in a row after that first one, giving you more information about the upcoming unbirthday party and how he was preparing some new desserts and needed someone to test them out before he served them to Riddle and the other Heartslabyul members. Of course, you accepted.

Who knows how (probably Ace, on second thought) Floyd caught wind of this happening, but as soon as he did? Hoooo boy, it was ON!

Floyd gets into strange moods sometimes, and sometimes those moods go into a sort of overzealous competition (unfortunately for the basketball team, that competitive mood never comes around during plays-). This was one of those times.

He approached you after class, presenting you with a terribly-drawn...poster, of sorts? It was pretty much just a page he had colored to look like an appealing advertisement for a "bake-off" between him and Trey for later that afternoon. It even included little stick figures of Floyd and Jade roasting Trey over a spit like a pig, and you with hearts in your eyes as you held out a blue ribbon to Floyd....Oh, yeah, this was definitely made by the eel.

Despite receiving Floyd's "official invitation", you had to go by Octavinelle to see what all the hubbub was about. Mostro Lounge was decorated to the nines, with crepe paper dangling from the ceiling, various posters of Floyd and Trey posing with their own creations, and more hand-drawn posters of Floyd beating Trey (either literally or otherwise-). Azul was absolutely mad with power (when is he ever not?) and was running around the place barking out orders, obviously too busy to talk to you, so you had to hunt down Jade, who graciously explained the situation.

Floyd was challenging Trey to a competition to see who could make the best desserts, summed up. The winner would receive a glamorous prize that was mysteriously being kept a secret for now. The judge? You!

Since you didn't entirely have a choice in whether to participate or not, you groaned inwardly and allowed Jade to pull you aside as he spoke about needing you to "look the part" for a cooking judge. Bam! He pulled out a very glamorous outfit from nowhere, along with a decorative apron that had your name embroidered on it...which led you to wonder how long Floyd had been planning this all out?

But that's not a question for you to worry your pretty little head about! Onto the contest!

Trey begrudgingly accepted the baking challenge, only really agreeing after hearing whatever this "prize" was. Or, at least, that's what you overheard from the massive crowd of students who gathered into the Mostro Lounge to watch the challenge proceed (of course, they still had to pay tickets to come as well as for their meals and drinks!)

You still weren't even sure of what was going on, only that you were seated in a fancy chair on a pedestal with a small table in front of you.

Heck, all you could do was watch as Trey and Floyd stood at their separate areas, baking with such fervor that you'd think they were fighting for their lives. batter was flying everywhere, the crowd was getting splattered with ingredients, and Azul stood to the side with Jade, practically having Thaumark-signs in his eyes.

In the end, Floyd brought up to you a very beautifully-made parfait, and Trey brought a regal, multi-layered cake. You took a bite of each, still not taking this whole contest very seriously.

"I think....Trey wins," You said with a confident smile "Your cake was very good, and uh...stuff."

"What???" Floyd yelled out, putting his hands on his head in dismay while Trey wiped off his apron with a satisfied grim "Why didn't I win???"

All you could do was shrug and hold back a laugh "I don't like parfaits...plus, that gummy shark you tossed in there with all the strawberry jam around it really threw me off."

As Floyd stormed off and began to break almost everything in the lounge, ranging from students to chairs to appliances, Trey looked up to you with his usual charming look.

"So, my prize?" He asked hopefully.

"Oh, yeah, about that," You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly "I literally only just learned about this whole contest an hour ago when Floyd gave me the paper, and I'm still in shock that all this was put together and played out in that time....but yeah, no one ever told me what this prize was."

"Aha!" He chuckled "It's a day with you, Prefect!"

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

[porcelainseashore]

The Faceless One - Palla Grande "King Slayers" ft. Gael Romilly

Author's Note: I’m so excited that this is my first time writing for VtM and participating in an event! Here’s my entry for the Palla Grande "King Slayers" hosted by @tzimizce, which tells the story of how Gael, the daredevil, couldn’t resist getting into one of her own.

She wasn’t from around these parts. Her brothers and sisters had told tall tales about the infamous event the Sabbat held each year, captivated her with descriptions of their festivities—maybe rumors—rumors were common among her kind.

“Bullshit,” she had said, waving her hand dismissively, drunk on warm blood sloshing around in a squashed plastic cup. A dash of it spilled to the ground, watering the cracked soil and scarring it red. 

“You don’t believe us? Then see it for yourself,” they had chanted, eyes gleaming, sharpened teeth luminescent under the glow of the moonlit sky.

The compulsion in her ached, clawing through her ribcage, shredding it apart. Streams of ribbons scarlet on her bare hands. And she knew that she would tear out her undead eyes just for a glimpse into such revelry.

“I will,” she gritted out, tossing the empty cup into the dirt, another blemish upon the landscape they called theirs, at least for the night.

All Hallows Eve descended upon the city in all its wicked glory, reeking of cheap liquor on tacky costumes, and barbed wire in candy. Gael drove into the heart of it, finding a place where the misfits and wannabes hung out in droves. A perfect hunting ground for those who dared call themselves vampires.

In there, whispers upon whispers circulated among friends of friends of acquaintances of strangers, and she heard it all. She could be charming if she wanted to, especially when she wasn’t shivering like an addict looking for their next fix.

“It’s an exclusive party,” one of the group told her snottily. “They asked specifically for five of us.”

Us. Gael didn’t belong—not yet.

That was okay. She revealed her first card, just like the way her lips pulled taut against the flesh of her gums to reveal her teeth. For a split second, her pupils flashed diabolically.

“But I am part of your five,” she grinned.

They stammered, hemmed and hawed, unable to shy away from her gaze. It didn’t take long for them to oust the weakest of the group, offering Gael their spot instead. As they set off, there were cackles and chatter about being honored at a Blood Feast.

Poor new age witches, they never stood a chance. So naive, so easy to manipulate, she thought. And what of her now? She would let them be blood bags for some ostentatious display of power.

A silent witness.

“Mistress Lydia’s guests?” the bouncer at the door asked.

Gael’s heart pounded in her chest. Oh, how she had forgotten what it felt like to be alive! Even through mimicry—what she would continue to rely on for the rest of the evening.

“Here, put this on.”

She was handed a poppy flower to pin on her jacket. Touché. The flower of spilled blood and sacrifice. How blatant could the Sabbat be?

As she was ushered in, she took in the marvelous sights of wild excess and debauchery. The costumes, each more extravagant than the other. She would soon don her own, but for now, she played the role of a moronic tourist, piggybacking off someone else’s invitation.

Her keen eyes darted around, surveying the venue. The passageways and exits were triple checked. So were the doors leading to the pantries and cellars.

The bathrooms. Check.

Behind the bars. Check.

Backstage. Check. 

The gears began to turn in Gael’s head as she ticked each area of interest off like an item on her inventory list. Years of being a runner and drug mule for a particularly notorious coterie in the Northwest had left its mark and taken its toll. But maybe we’ll get to that later—or not.

As usual, she slipped away into the crowd, losing the flower as she blended in like a chameleon, shifting skins—smoothly, expertly, shedding her self in the layers, to appear as one nondescript form to another. She had to be careful to avoid any misstep. One wrong move, and she was done for. Although she had a thousand masks to wear, there were a thousand pairs of eyes, always watching, from the shadows, from the blind corners of her vision.

Cold sweat beaded on her forehead as a byproduct of the way in which she conducted her affairs—meticulous and calculating. Falling into pace, fear and trepidation gave way to thrill and excitement. She swore she could see the searing white adrenaline course through her veins, turning them milky and sticky. And her Beast was pleased.

Across the night, she was a human guest, a ghoul server, a band’s roadie all-in-one. She flitted between guises like switching dance partners—never bored, nor boring. Picking up on secret codes and gestures, weaving in and out of head counts, sometimes one more, sometimes one less, like that creepypasta she had read on 4chan… Anansi’s Goatman?

Doppelgänger, shapeshifter, but she was pretty damn sure that they were Ravnos—like her. 

Just before suspicion arose, she would change out again. Luck was on her side, for the time being. 

She watched wide-eyed as the grandiose performance of a sacrificial rite played out on stage, interspersed with images of Gehenna. The first of the mortals were slaughtered unknowingly among the sheep.

Power. Was this what Cainites felt at the height of their bloodlust?

Gael felt it too, similarly but different. She’d done it. None of her brothers and sisters saw, but she’d done it, and that was enough. 

Here she was, standing in a tank circled by sharks, unnoticed. Just another one of the many. Faceless, nameless, a nobody.

To be faceless was to retake power from having an identity—something to label, to judge, to align you with a sect or cause, under a banner. And for what?

To be unshackled of the ego—that was true power. 

She’d made it this far, but the hardest part yet was getting out. As far as she observed, the doors had been sealed shut long ago. Everything would be accounted for, dealt with, and cleaned up.

What would they do if they found her? Would they destroy her on the spot, or convert her to their church? Had they lulled her into a false sense of security, waiting for the right moment to strike?

Regardless, she would always remain fiercely independent, even in her final—

Dividers by @diableriedoll

[real-total-drama-takes]

I really really really really really like how in the first gen they had not multiple guy characters participate in stereotypically feminine sports (Harold with figure skating and dj with artistic gymnastics/ribbon dancing) and it’s not played for a joke it’s played entirely straight and both of their skills help advance the plot in at least one episode

Genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen that before in any media let alone something as dated as the original total drama and it’s nice to see (as a masc person in figure skating)

-📺

[distracted-and-diffused]

So when I saw that the prompt for Day 12 for DBDA Promptober was "Magic 8 Ball", I realized today was the day I wanted to post about this.

I made a bunch of little paper tokens to include in my letters to Netflix. For luck, for laughs, and (mostly), to further illustrate a bit of the love for the show behind what I'm saying.

And each of them has a specific reason and meaning that I'll maybe talk about later, but the first ones that I made were the Magic 8 Ball.

I had the idea that I'd like to include a little Magic 8 Ball in each letter with "Renew Dead Boy Detectives" written on it, and had a vague idea of how I wanted to make that happen. I got construction paper, and some little tags with ribbons to sandwich inside each one, since I wanted it to be something you could hang up if you wanted. (They are two-sided: one side has the 8 and the other has the window with the die).

But it was when I found the blue glitter cardstock that I absolutely knew I was making these.

The glitter is in honor of someone important to me -- I don't know for sure if she would have liked the show, but I like to think that she would have. But I know she would have listened to me ramble on about it, and I 100% know that she would have approved of me participating in any fan action where I could incorporate at least a bit of glitter. (So not unlike Niko, in that way, now that I come to think about it 💖)

And knowing that made it feel like each one would be just a little bit extra lucky (and surely it can't hurt to have the Magic 8 Ball's recommendation).

[oogaboogasphincter]

a bowlful of joel-y

summary: he was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot / and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; / a bundle of toys he had flung on his back, / and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack / his eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! / his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! / he had a broad face and a little round belly / that shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly || you never would have guessed who you find stumbling around jackson dressed up as santa claus on christmas eve night, leaving presents for all the kids in town. you take on the role of santa's elf and help him deliver his toys - and land yourself on his nice list just in time for christmas morning.

word count/warnings: 4.8k+ words EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) MDNI! // reader has insomnia, a pinch of grumpy joel but he’s mostly jolly (at least by his standards), one mention of alcohol/drunkenness, christmas/holiday fluff, a conversation about loss and grief around the holidays (joel talks about sarah), description of panic attacks + healing❤️‍🩹, food and eating (milk+cookies ofc), unprotected piv sex (do as i say not as i write), jackson era!joel, friends to lovers teehee

a/n: merry christmas @lisadean! i'm so so sorry this is three days late, i got a head cold just as i was putting my finishing touches on this and i didn't want to post it without a final read-through :( i hope you enjoy your secret santa gift as much as i did writing it! 🤭🎁 i want to thank all my besties at @pedrostories for organizing this event, it's what introduced me to the blog and i'm so excited and honored to be participating in it both as a writer and moderator this year 💗 i wish all my readers a very happy holidays!! (pls let me know who made the beautiful gif above, i found it on pinterest w no credit ☹️)

It’s Christmas Eve and you can’t sleep.

No matter how hard you try, your shuttered eyes can’t keep.

You toss and turn with increasing agitation,

Thoughts of going downstairs gnawing with temptation.

It’d just be a little peek, you reason,

Of the freshly fallen snow of the season. 

With a huff of exertion and a swaddle of flannel,

You get up and trot down the stairs, passing the candles burning on the mantle.

The decorated tree twinkles with light to emit holiday cheer all through the night.

You push aside the heavy drapes of your window and you see red;

Specifically, a fur-trimmed three piece set.

Astonished by what to your wandering eyes did appear, you lean in and begin to peer. 

You must be being deceived by your eyes, you think to yourself. The apocalypse has brought to life many horrific figments that you wished were bound by imagination, but the magic of Christmas is something that seems too good to be true after such atrocity has ravaged the Earth. Maybe your vision is bleary from your biting insomnia caused by the latter, or you’ve endured enough that your mind is gifting you a glimpse back into some innocent happiness that you feared you lost long ago. To your surprise, the broad man outside doesn’t vanish with the blink of your eye; instead he trudges along in the snow with a harsh sense of reality, his back bent at a painful angle and his feet falling heavily with every step, bearing the brunt of his costumed weight plus the filled sack that is slung over his shoulder. 

Whoever this is - whether it’s a do-gooder or some bloke that had a few too many spiked eggnogs at the Tipsy Bison - it looks like they would appreciate some help. You slip your boots on and head out, wrapping your arms around yourself to cinch your flannel pajamas closer to your frame to shield yourself from the icy midnight flurries. Santa’s back is to you and he doesn’t seem to acknowledge your approaching footsteps. His grunts of exertion are carried on the wind that swirls around you in ribbons: his pack looks even heavier up close than it did from your living room window. You make an effort to announce yourself by grinding your heels into the snow, making each step crunchier than the last. 

For a fleeting moment, you relish the childlike wonder that overtakes you, that this could be the real Santa. His heart must be pounding in his ears because when you tap his velveteen shoulder softly, he jumps in shock. It’s immediately apparent that the erratic movement hurt his back further, as a large hand comes to support the small of his spine and he groans when he straightens his neck. The sack drops from his grasp into the snow below. You’re already apologizing as he turns haggardly on his heel, towards you, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Do you-”

Santa finally rounds on you and your breath catches in your throat. Framed by a faux white beard and the furry trim of his hat are big, gorgeous brown eyes that throw icicles at you with an annoyed stare. His thorough costume fails to work on you - you could recognize those beautiful, baby cow-esque eyes in an instant. A joyous cloud of condensation wafts into Santa’s face as you burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, doubling over with tears in your eyes. 

He steps forward and covers your mouth with a black leather gloved hand, “Don’t you know anythin’ about stealth?” 

The saturation of Joel’s Texan accent increases whenever he’s irritated, tired or relaxed, you’ve noticed, or whenever his controlling grip on stoicism slips just slightly and he’s allowed to return to a more organic version of himself. To his grumbling annoyance, you’ve told him how cute you find it - especially when it’s followed by a blush of tamped-down flattery that crumbles his carefully constructed grimace. 

He lets go of you when you’re able to stifle your giggles to a soft chuckling. You eye his outfit up and down, raising your eyebrow in approval. He tries his best not to mirror your bemused smirk. “ What are you doing, Joel Miller?” you ask incredulously. 

“What’s it look like I’m doin’?” he grouches rhetorically. You patiently await his answer anyway with a grin that spreads to your eyes with every second that ticks by. He eventually secedes with a sigh, his broad shoulders deflating with exhaustion from more than just your affectionate pestering, “‘M… deliverin’ toys to the kids. Getting a present from Santa is a formative experience. No kid should have their magic robbed of ‘em.” 

“Isn’t Santa just one big lie though?” you ask, genuinely. You remember the truth that your friends tried to peddle you while you were still a believer, asking you all kinds of questions as a test to your logic. How is he able to get all across the world in one night? If he’s so big, how is he able to fit down the chimney? Does Santa have to take bathroom breaks, and where?! Most of all, you remember the horror that washed over you when you confronted your parents with your newly-acquired facts, and to your fear, they confirmed the lie. It took you a while to have faith in anything they said after, to the point of absurdity - it took months for you to believe that taking medicine will actually make you feel better when you’re sick. 

Joel stiffens. Some inexplicable reason makes you think that it’s not just because of his aching back and tired knees. His voice is tight, uncomfortable, “Yeah, I guess…” 

He gradually warms back up, his words spliced with tired breaths, by explaining to you that, “Tommy told me that in years past, the adults would leave presents on Christmas morning, under that big tree they decorate in the town square,” he points behind him to the afar twinkling lights with his thumb, “just before the kids woke up. But since we found that fir tree lot about twenty miles out, everybody was able to get their own tree this year. I asked around if they think it’d be a good idea for someone… f’ me… to be Santa. So that all the kids could have the experience we had. Y’know… leave cookies out an’ all that.” He waves his hand noncommittally and looks off to the side like he thinks the whole idea is ludicrous, as if he doesn’t care. As if he isn’t the sweet, kindhearted man who introduced the very idea. 

You fight hard to disguise the enamor that strikes your heart and threatens to leak into your gaze. So you turn to a reliable defense mechanism: teasing. “So… the costume is purely for your own enjoyment then?” 

That pulls a breathy chuckle out of Joel’s chest. “I can’t have the kiddos wake up and see some old man in their house. You gotta keep up the illusion, girl.” He nudges you on the shoulder with his knuckles. When he leans in you can smell his breath, warm and sweet with faint notes of spice and cinnamon. His unprecedented playfulness always throws you for a loop and makes you squirm on your feet, a flustered smile warbling on your lips. 

It strikes you in inappropriate moments like these that you have the privilege of being chummy with one of the most sought after men in Jackson. A man whose charms you’re not immune to, but you guess you’re better at hiding their effect than others are, as Joel tended to avoid those who openly expressed intimate interest. A man who you so desperately desire, but force yourself to hide your attraction for. 

Joel sighs, bending to pick the sack handle up from the ground, “I’m bound to wake them up if I keep fuckin’ lumberin’ around like I am.” You can see how the heavy bag of toys weighs on his back and worsens his heavy-footedness. You can practically hear the alerting scuff of his boots against creaky floorboards, rousing sleeping kids and luring them to spoil their own surprise. “I damn near woke the first one up, ‘cause this fuckin’ sack got stuck between me and the door, an’-” 

He cuts himself off, gaping with offended bewilderment watching you try to smother your laughter. The image of him wrestling with the bag, let alone in a full Santa costume, is simply hilarious. A deviousness glints the smile that tugs on half of his face, “Oh, so you think my struggling is funny?”

“No, it’s just…” you search for a more suitable word but guilt shines through your twisted smile and speaks for itself. He lets the silence fill the space between you two for an uncomfortable stretch, running out your fuse until you can’t hold back your giggling. 

He puts his hand on his hip, fixing his gaze on you with lighthearted scorn, “You gon’ stand there and laugh at Santa ,” he jeers, scolding you for making fun of an innocent, jolly old man, “or are you gonna make yourself useful?” 

For a moment you completely forget why you had come out here in the first place. Joel was legitimately having a difficult time and you had wanted to aid him in any way you could. However, his badgering demeanor has put an equally brattish spin on your helping hand from its chivalrous beginning. You defiantly square your shoulders.

“Actually, I will. I can be like an elf to your Santa. The elves do all of the hard work, anyways. Making the toys, wrapping them, packing the sleigh and caring for the reindeer. And Santa… eats cookies?” 

Joel scoffs, pretending to not like the idea of some help, “Oh, yeah? You and what costume?” He jerks his chin at you, looks you up and down for your lack of costume. It’s hard not to pay any attention to the heat that rushes your cheeks thinking about him looking at you like that under different circumstances. He’s right though: you’ll need a costume to maintain the magical facade. 

A Christmas miracle bestows itself to you in the front yard you’re standing next to: a snowman outfitted as an elf. 

You go over and delicately pluck the pointed hat off of the top snowball so as not to disturb the icy artistry. You pull it down on your head, wiggle, and the movement gives the bell at the end of the point a jingle. “Ready when you are, Mr. Claus.” 

Like on patrols and other tasks you’ve been paired with him on before, you and Joel make a fantastic team delivering holiday cheer in the night. 

You’ll come to a house, quietly padding up the snowy front steps; Joel will sift through his bag for the correct present for the specific child; and hand it off to you to put under the tree inside. The parents in on the trick have left their doors unlocked and their kids have assembled platters of cookies, varying flavors from house to house, with a note of gratitude for their beloved Santa tucked underneath. You can only hope that the kids’ excited jitters for the following morning have worn their energy levels down enough that they’re soundly slumbering so you can pass through undetected. The bell on your hat is a hazardous giveaway to your presence, so you opt to leave it outside with Joel to ensure your drop-off is silent. There’s no chance any wandering eyes will catch you out of disguise, though, because, as quiet and quick as a mouse, you’re in with a gift and out with empty hands in a flash, ready for the next one. 

A couple hours in and you’ve deposited gifts to three quarters of the kids in town. You’ll definitely finish before the Christmas morning sun even thinks about peering over the horizon. Despite the share of labor you’ve accounted for, Joel continues to have a difficult time trudging through the snow, so you both slow down to a pleasant, unhurried stroll to fulfill the remainder of your recipients. 

“You okay?” you ask tenderly, smiling softly at him when he cranes his neck to meet your eyes. He nods, his voice tired and breathy, “Yeah, just… old .” He spits that last word out, with bitterness coating his tongue. The imperceptible shake of his head is impatient, agitated, that his body isn’t up to par with what it used to be capable of. 

Jackson has softened him, there’s no denying that, but you don’t think it’s such a bad thing. You only arrived at the settlement a year ago, a year into Joel’s stay. He had immediately shown you friendliness, a desire to help you settle in, to care for you. It struck you as odd when you heard the stories from other townspeople of what he was like when he was first welcomed in; that he was the cold, standoffish brother of their warm leader, Tommy, that his permanent scowl radiated a sourness, bordering on ungrateful. The par-baked sociability that you were introduced to was apparently underdone; his face flickered with uncomfortability when any affection was pushed on him, whether it was a simple compliment or a brotherly nudge to his shoulder. Joel couldn’t hide himself from you, though. His desire to surrender was so strong, so yearnful, but he constantly restrained himself from the comfort, the love, with an understandable fear that it could all be taken away. 

Accidentally, you forced him to face his fears. He enjoyed your company and soon sought out more and more opportunities to spend time with you until you were inseparable. You began to frighten him when he realized what you were to him, a friend , but it was too late; he couldn’t stay away from you, no matter how loud the loathsome voice in his head screamed for the safety that isolation guaranteed. His biggest source of anxiety now isn’t something reasonable, like clickers: it’s how far into the future he wants to go with you. 

Back in the present moment, you shrug, “Well, I think you’re doing a good thing, Joel. Old or not.” The tip of his nose and cheeks are beet red from the frosty air and itchy costume, but his blush deepens to a magenta upon hearing your words. He diverts his eyes. It’s sweet, in a way, how he has trouble accepting praise even from one of his best friends. You dump more validation onto him, because he deserves it, “The community will really love you for this, you know. I know how much you like your solitude, but it’s nice to see you involved. It suits you.” 

“I guess literally,” he gestures to his suit of red and white and you laugh together. Despite the tarnishes of age and stains of neglectful wear, the costume does fit him nicely. Just like the infamous poem, it complements his eyes that twinkle under the starlight and his merry dimple that deepens when he laughs. He even has the little round belly to complete the look, though you’re sure he has as much disdain for his softened shape as you have love for it. 

The night hours wane in proportion with the fun you’re having. Joel’s silent for a while, and though quietness is never awkward between you two, you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about. 

You only have a few presents left to deliver when Joel says, “Sarah loved Christmas.” 

You slow down next to him to direct your undivided attention on him in this tender moment, but he waves his hand at you to keep moving along. Always some degree of averse to comfort, you work with him however he’ll let you. He faces ahead into the snow coming down, but that’s not what he’s looking at; his gaze is slightly unfocused, like he goes into a dimension that only he can see. You’ve seen that expression on him before and know that snapshots of memories are drifting by in his mind. 

His voice is happy to match his smile, only wavering with emotion slightly as he shares with you, “She’d always be eager to start putting the decorations up right after Thanksgiving, always so giddy to go to school and do all the festive little projects they had ‘em doin’. She’d get so into it, she’d come home with glitter all in her hair,” he laughs softly and so do you. “The fridge would be completely covered with her paintings and crafts by the time Christmas came around…” 

He stops in his tracks to take a sharp breath in, looking up to the stars with damp eyes. A touch to the permanent fixture on his wrist - his watch - grounds him and restores his smile, despite the painful tinge it now has. You simply observe him for a moment, give him the patience he needs. Then he continues a bit somberly, “I always got a real tree, I didn’t like none of that fake stuff. I would’ve gone and cut one down myself if they grew better than they did in Texas.” 

A detachedness casts over his eyes. He breathes hauntedly, “Maybe a lot of things would be different if I hadn’t lived there.” 

He sniffles and shakes his head to try and dispel his thoughts, getting irritated that they infiltrated him in the first place. You take a gingerly step forward and lay your fingers over his with impossible tenderness, stroking his quivering knuckles. 

“Sounds like she would’ve loved being your little helper tonight.” A stroke of happiness glimmers across his face, colors him back from his ghostly hue. 

“Yep, she would’ve been all over that.” 

With all of the delicacy you can muster to cushion your shameless, vital honesty, “I bet she would be proud of what you’re doing… of you .” 

You reach into his bag and take out the last remaining present, placing it into his hands so he can be the one to close out the magical evening and deliver the final gift. Joel nods with residual tears in his eyes, “I can only hope.”

“I know,” you reassure him. 

The corners of his mouth, downturned in shame and grief, begin to perk up ever so slightly. It sends you over the moon. A staggering leap of growth for Joel are imperceptible steps to others, but you’re always by his side to assure him that there’s nothing wrong with his pace. 

You’re the one to wait outside this time while he sneaks in. While he’s disappeared for a few moments, you think about how he used to react when Sarah was brought up - or more likely, when his thoughts brought her to him unprovoked. He’d have brutal panic attacks, where his heart would pound violently in between seizures of oxygen, courtesy of his crippling lungs. He’d be rendered debilitated for days afterward, trying to collect his shattered remains and haphazardly piece himself back together. 

But now, as he slowly closes the door behind him and turns to join you, his commendable progress frays your heartstrings. Though his eyes are still hurt and his heart still gives him problems, he’s able to talk about his daughter with unbridled joy . Her memory is no longer an abyss of torturous guilt; it has blossomed to remind him of all the happy days she did have, of what a beautiful soul she was and can continue to be in his heart. He’s realizing that instead of solely mourning her wrongful death, he can carry on her life by spreading the joy she instilled in him all those years ago. You view it as one of the highest honors to hear about her and to be friends with the wonderful man who raised her to be the kind girl she was. Seeing Joel’s misery lessened by any number makes you so happy you could cry. 

Joel comes up to you and concern crosses his face, “What’s wrong?”, upon seeing the gleam to your eyes, putting a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Nothin’,” you say with a shrug and a proud smile, subconsciously parroting his accent.

“Congratulations on another successful year, Santa,” you hold up your hand for a silly high five. Joel obliges with a resounding chuckle. He intertwines his fingers with yours, holding your hand long after the celebration. “Couldn’t have done it without your help,” he mumbles sheepishly, “Thank you.”

Since you were the one picking up Santa’s slack for the most part tonight, you were also the one to take bites of cookies and sips of milk to leave as evidence of your visit. It only dawns on you now that Joel hasn’t had any treats the whole night. What a holiday abomination! 

“I think Santa is entitled to his fair share of payment,” you playfully nudge at Joel’s belly and he swats your hand away with a grunt. “I made some cookies of my own, and I have some milk to pair if I’m remembering your tastes correctly.” He shakes his head, rolls his eyes. “Wanna come back to mine for some?” 

Joel squeezes your hand in his, “Sure.” 

The morning sun still has a few hours left to sleep by the time you and Joel cross your threshold. The house you were gifted in the center of town is small, but it’s a haven nonetheless. When you first moved in, Joel was assigned to check all the inner workings and help furnish, but most importantly he helped you return to yourself: what colors you liked and didn’t like, which way you preferred your living room to be arranged, where you wanted your mugs stored. It was incidental, trivial things, but their impact was seriously underestimated. He helped make the little blank-slate house yours. 

He enjoys being in it as much as you do because he’s constantly surrounded by you and the evidence of your habits and patterns. The rings of coffee staining your side table, next to the bookmarked novel on the arm of your couch. The shoes dropped unceremoniously by your front door. The dish towel powdered with the flour of cookies you made earlier, their mouthwatering scent lingering in the air with the dry, residual warmth from your oven. He doesn’t know if he wants to consume you or be consumed by you, but either way he knows one thing: he’s bewitched.

In the kitchen, he leans against the counter as you pour him a glass of milk and plate some cookies. The long night’s energy expenditure has worked up quite an appetite in him, so he doesn’t waste any more time and takes a bite. 

“You have to dip it in the milk and let it get soft! They’re best that way,” you offer, but he just waves you off with affectionate annoyance. 

From his sloppy eating, a piece of chocolate has smeared itself on his upper lip and into the hairs of his mustache. It makes you smile. Without thinking, you lick the pad of your thumb and bring it to his face to clean it off. 

Joel’s lips part, as if with practiced ease, so you can really get in there. It’s so natural , so domestic between the two of you; it’s startling. His eyes are on you and you can feel them, watching you with brazen intensity as you prod the plushness of his lip, but you keep your own gaze focused on your work. 

You flicker a fatal glance into his. Joel wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss that’s a strange mix of gentle and intoxicating. Just as it registers in your brain what is happening, he’s breaking away and it makes you want to cry.  

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first, goddamn fool …” he grumbles to himself. He goes to remove himself from you further, but you pull him right back by the chest of his t-shirt that’s damp with sweat. 

“You should’ve.” You press your lips to his with ravenous fervor. 

You pull him to the living room, to the chair that he picked out for the space when you first moved in. The soft suede reminded him of you, he had said, and you didn’t realize what his true meaning was until now. His fingertips skim over your exposed skin, addicted, yet tentative in their touch of such preciousness. 

You swiftly rid him of the rest of his costume down to his underclothes and he soon follows to undress you until you’re left in your base layers. You’re practically shaking with need, wishing you could take your time with him but you’ve been pining after him all night (really, ever since the moment you laid eyes on him over a year ago.) That goofy costume couldn’t hide his delicious figure and he makes you delirious now that he’s exposed; his broad, inviting chest; his sexy, burly arms; his cute little ass. 

He shares your desire’s impatience. He falls onto the chair, pressing against the back. You climb into his lap, straddling his thighs, and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him into you for another desperate kiss.

One of his hands balances you on your hip and the other fumbles with his belt buckle frustratingly. He groans impatiently into your mouth, but your aid is being dispersed elsewhere; your fingers are tethered to his hair, brushing it and grabbing it and pulling it. 

Finally he solves the metallic riddle and you both sigh in relief when his stiff length is released, slapping against your thigh. You reach down and stroke him from base to tip a couple times, making his eyebrows scrunch in pleasure. This is going to be quick, you both know it, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be enjoyable. 

You’re just as near to bursting as Joel when you sink down onto him, inch by glorious inch. He digs his heels into the floor in preparation to fuck up into you, but you beat him to it and begin to ride. He groans loudly, his arms constricting around your waist and burying his face into your neck. He’s holding you so tight that you can barely move; it makes your thighs burn deliciously with the amount of effort you have to put in to keep up your pace. You work up a sweat to rival his as a fresh sheen breaks out on his brow. 

Combined with the heated passion, there’s an enamored twinkle in his eyes, an adoration. One that screams that four-letter L word, the one that his brain wants to profess to you from rooftops but that his heart can’t work up the strength to say it and make it real. 

The holidays are run on magic, anyways - you’re content to give him all the time he needs. 

“Please, Joel,” you whisper breathlessly into his ear, wanting his body if you can’t have his heart just yet. That does him in; his hips stutter beneath you and his warmth fills you up, radiating up from your core until it tickles the underside of your pounding heart. Your own release is brought on by his sly fingers against your clit and it seizes your movements, rippling in tantalizing waves from head to toe, until you’re reduced to a puddle in his arms and slump against his chest. 

Hazy with exhaustion and a potent shot of dopamine, you barely register him tucking a blanket around you before you succumb to some much-needed sleep. 

The Christmas morning sun breaks over the horizon a few hours later. Amidst your throes of passion in the darkness of night, you hadn’t realized your front window’s curtains were strewn wide open. You and Joel both startle awake when a particularly harsh sunbeam glints off of a frosty white snow bank, shooting directly into your unprepared pupils. 

You bury your face into his chest, groaning with embarrassment, “I really hope nobody starts singing that they saw an elf kissing Santa Claus.”

Your newly minted lover chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and holding you ever closer, “Eh, all the kids were asleep. And if any adults saw…,” he shrugs, “Fuck ‘em.”

Now, your blanketed bodies remain safely hidden from the happy kids running about and cheering in the streets with their new toys. Joel watches on with you, smiling despite the sleep deprivation that prohibits you from even thinking about moving an inch. And with Joel beneath you, surrounding you, why would you? 

“You know, I’ve been thinking for a while now…” he continues, running a finger delicately down your cheek, “I’ve been wanting to promote my head elf, but she’s already at the top of my list.”

You poke him in the chest playfully, “Hey, I’m a seasonal worker. Last night was a one-time deal. Well, what happened before we got home was a one-time deal,” you specify. 

Your clarification brightens his smile. “How d’ya think… Mrs. Claus sounds?”

Your heart leaps. “Sounds like just what I’ve been wishing for.”

You settle in to watch the rest of the morning unfold, with the joyous kids playing, their contented parents observing, and the snow swirling in the air in dreamy trails.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

summary excerpt from “‘a visit from st. nicholas” by clement clarke moore

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[gaybananabread]

hiiiii!

could I please request day 21, ‘costume’? I’d like lee Pomni and ler!jax if we can do that! Thanks ever so much <3

TickleTober Day 21 - Costume

~Okay, I wrote Jax VERY different to how I did the first time. One, he's a huge asshole, but I still choose to naively believe he isn't all bad. Call it optimistic character study. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Pomni

Ler: Jax

Summary: Caine's adventure for the day leaves each character in an interesting costume, with some having more features than others. Jax gets paired with Pomni and quickly runs out of patience. Instead of his typical violence, he chooses a less painful route of getting his “payback.”

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

“This is stupid,” Jax grumped, tugging at the collar of his lion onesie. Caine had decided to have everyone wear a costume for Halloween that day, but had neglected to ask anyone of what or who they’d wanted to be. He just randomly assigned one with a snap of his fingers.

“I didn’t even think we could change our clothes…” Pomni said–mainly to herself–as she flicked the little bell on the collar of her cat onesie. It was quite soft, and she liked the warmth it provided. Well, simulated warmth, but still. She thought she could remember having something similar once, but…the memory was just out of reach.

“You can’t! I have control over your digital bodies, so only I can alter them! Isn’t that exciting?” Caine got right in her face as he explained, making Pomni yelp and jump back. The bell jingled softly with the movement, glinting in the light of the tent.

“No. Not even a little.” Zooble’s monotone response came from nearby. They were less than pleased; Caine had apparently decided they’d make a good zebra, adding more funky patterns to their body.

“We’ll see if you still feel that way after today’s adventure!” Caine’s chipper words made the group groan, save for Ragatha and Kinger. She was in a Panda onesie, while Kinger had been dressed as a goldfish. With his eyes, it was actually rather fitting.

“Today’s adventure is Trick-or-Treat Team-Up! You’ll each be split in pairs of two to explore the tent and knock on doors with the pumpkin symbols! Whichever team gets the most candy wins!”

That actually didn’t sound too bad. Nobody could sense anything dangerous or annoying about it, even if they’d rather be relaxing.

“The teams are: Pomni and Jax, Ragatha and Kinger, and Zooble and Gangle! If anyone chooses not to participate, Bubble has volunteered to go in their place!” Caine gestured proudly to the dead-eyed bubble beside him, her sharp teeth greeting the players in a smile.

Zooble narrowed their eyes, knowing they couldn’t leave Gangle to such a fate. With a sigh, they grabbed the ribbon girl’s hand and went off to find the first door. The other groups followed their lead, though Ragatha lingered a moment, grabbing Jax’s lion tail to get his attention.

“Jax, I need you to promise me that you won’t be a complete jerk to Pomni. The last adventure really shook her up, and I don’t want a simple adventure to become something evil.”

Normally, he would’ve brushed her right off, but that look in her eyes…it kinda scared him. Ragatha was dead serious, actually showing an emotion besides worry or happiness.

“Fine, fine, whatever. I won’t break the clown.” Jax rolled his eyes, but Ragatha could tell he at least sort-of meant it. She left after that, the sounds of her re-explaining the rules to Kinger slowly fading out as they left.

“C’mon. The other teams already have a head start, and I’m not losing an easy challenge.” Jax started walking before Pomni could answer, forcing her to jog to keep up with his long strides.

“R-right. I’ll shout if I see a pumpkin door.” Pomni trailed a step or two behind him, struggling to keep up with his pace. She was much shorter, making it hard to match him.

It only took about two minutes for Jax to almost break his promise.

“Ugh- can you stop that?!” The rabbit man whirled around, glaring down at Pomni as he jabbed a finger at her chest. The small bell on her cat onesie had been jingling with every step, slowly driving him insane.

“I don’t think I can. It’s attached, and only Caine can alter our outfits.” Pomni shrunk back a bit from the yell, but she’d been growing used to his douche-ery. It didn’t bother her as much anymore.

“D-*ploink* it.” Jax groaned, running a hand down his face. Of course he’d gotten stuck with the one person whose costume made annoying noises; that was just his luck. “Walk lighter then. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Pomni sighed, walking only on her tip-toes. She quickly fell much farther behind doing that, stuck about a yard away from him at all times. Surprisingly enough, she was the one who spotted their first door.

“Ooo, over there!” Pomni pointed to one of the doors, a bright orange pumpkin symbol sitting atop the red.

Jax slunk over to it, a small hum of recognition leaving him. Instead of knocking like any sane person would, he took a few steps back, then charged at it. His foot slammed into the red surface, blowing it open. Instead of candy, he received a bucket of green slime to the face.

“Gyack! Oh you motherf-” Before he could finish that sentence, another blast of slime shot out, this one carrying a note. It smacked him in the face, making Pomni giggle.

“Shut up, clown girl!” Flinging some of the goo at her, he unrolled the note and read it out loud. “‘Too hard. Trick-or-Treat, not Beat-for-Treat.’ This is so dumb!”

“I mean, you did kick the door down. It probably got mad and took the candy.” Pomni stated the obvious, absentmindedly tapping the bell on her onesie.

“It’s a door! They don’t have feelings!” Jax snapped, narrowing his yellow-and-black eyes at her. “And what did I say about that stupid bell?!”

Pomni narrowed her eyes in return, challenging him. She’d had about enough of his mean attitude. “It’s Caine! For all we know, he made it an AI NPC! Maybe you should think about that stuff before you just do things!”

“Oh, that is IT!” He was done playing nice. Jax tackled her, loathing the cartoony thump their bodies made as they hit the ground. He was going to start a fight, but Ragatha’s sort-of-threat lingered in his mind. When that woman got mad, she got livid. He’d rather not face her wrath, but he needed some kind of retaliation…

Oh, right. Duh.

Jax dug all eight of his purple fingers into her sides with an indignant huff. “This’ll teach ya to show me some respect!”

Pomni squeaked loudly, sounding almost exactly like a dog toy as she descended into pitchy laughter. Jax couldn’t help but chuckle at the sound of it. There’s another item for the “Weird Things Our Bodies Do” list.

“Jeez, you sound like a dog toy! You’re lucky nobody’s modeled after one; you’ve got two reasons for a pooch to maul ya right now.” Jax smirked, giving one of the ears on her onesie a little tug.

“G-GEHEHET OHOHOFF! JAHAHA- squeak OHO GOHOHOD!” Pomni quickly started to lose it, kicking and squirming beneath him as he went for her worst spot. It was hardly fair; he’d guessed it so soon! “WEHEHE’RE GOHONNA LOHOHOHOSE!”

“I don’t really care about that anymore. He didn’t even say there was a prize.” Jax just shrugged, his eyes becoming half-moons as his smug grin grew wider. He was clearly enjoying himself. “This is much more gratifying work.”

“B-BUHUHUT YOUHUHU *squeak* YOU SAHAHAID YOUHU WEREN'T LOHOHOSING AHAHN EHEASY *squeak* CHAHAHALENGE!”

That was impressive, Jax had to give her that. Laughing so hard, yet she still managed a complete, coherent sentence.

“Changed my mind. Don't you know people are progressive?” Jax asked innocently, his tone barely containing the teasing sarcasm in his words.

“THAHAT’S NOHOHOT- *squeak* SHUHUHUT UHUP!” Pomni wriggled beneath his hands, trying to shove them away. Jax seemed to be stronger, though, locking his arms and preventing her escape.

There we go.

“And that's not proper grammar. It's a shame, really; the literary arts are dying. You're a part of the problem, Pomni.” Jax was just saying anything he thought had a chance of annoying her at that point. It was kinda jerky, but it was a lot better than what he'd wanted to do.

“F-*boi-oing*K YOUHUHU!” He was so smug about everything! It was killing her, though a small sort of her was enjoying it. Touch wasn't exactly common in the circus; while the current touch was maddening, it still made her feel a bit better. More alive.

“Nah, I've got plans this afternoon. Thanks for offering, though.” Jax snickered at his own immature comeback, giving both her sides a hearty squeeze.

The rabbit man was more than happy to continue for at least an hour, but the sound of distant screams and spooky sound effects made him think. They probably still had a chance of winning, even after the lengthy distraction. Jax was always one for impulsive decisions.

The tickling ended just as abruptly as it had started, Jax standing and offering Pomni a hand up. She took a minute just to lie there, draping an arm over her face as she giggled.

“Youhu…are a bad person.” Pomni huffed as she begrudgingly took his hand, a small grunt leaving her when he tugged her up from the ground.

“No duh.” Jax chuckled at her flustered state before looking around the hall. “You need water or anything? You're useless to me if you pass out.”

Pomni was a bit shocked by that. He was…asking if she needed something? Genuinely, it seemed? Sure, he was an asshole about it, but it was still shocking.

“Uhm…no, thank you?”

“Good. I didn't wanna make the trip anyway.” He glanced down the hallway of doors before shaking his head. “Don't think he put any more candy doors over here. We're checking behind the stage.”

Then he just walked off, leaving her with all those confusing thoughts and not a single answer. Great.

Pomni hurried after him once again, the bell on her onesie costume jingling once again. That time, however, the jingling noise only made Jax smirk.

Cute…

[wrrrenff]

Breaking The Ice - Chapter 1

Attack on Titan / Shingeki No Kyojin Levi Ackerman x F! reader Synopsis: You go out with you friends to the ice skating rink. You're not really interested in ice skating but you are interested in the man sat next to you. Warning: Sexual content, P in V sex, Degradation, Spanking, Choking, 18+

Gif credits to the creator!

Skating was never really your thing. You had tried roller skating a few times and could never quite get the hang of it. Your balance has always been terrible anyhow. So when your friends asked if you wanted to come ice skating with them you were tempted to turn it down immediately. Ultimately you did end up accepting the invite since it's been a while since you've seen them and wanted to catch up. You figured you could hang out with them before and after they skate then just sit in the bleachers watching them skate and enjoy the cold air.

The day comes and you dressed really cute. What, just because you're not participating doesn't mean you can't dress up. You wore a short sleeve Peter Pan collared shirt with a black ribbon bow, a black skirt, a black and white checkered cardigan and your green lace up shoes. You thought about dressing warmer but you've always enjoyed the cold so you figured you'd be fine.

About an hour after you finish getting ready, you arrive at the skating rink. Everybody pays the admission fee then you wave to your friends as you head for the bleachers. Not many people are here today. You picked one of the many available seats and watched as your friends took to the ice. Taking out your phone, you focused on getting as many fun action shots and videos as you could. You were too distracted to realize that an older man had taken the seat right next to you.

“Which one is yours?” You jump a little before looking over at the man. He seemed to be in his late 30s, jet black hair, piercing gray eyes, and a very stoic expression. He chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I figured if I don’t skate with my kids I should at least be social. Mine are those two by the wall. The taller one is Eren and the short one is Armin.” You look to where he’s pointing. You’re pretty shocked by how old his kids are.  “You look pretty young to have two teens” He smirks. “I get that a lot. My late husband and I adopted them from a pretty rough situation a while back. We both thought we would never have kids but those two busted their way into our lives.” This man had an expression of nostalgia mixed with sorrow. Before the mood could plummet too much you point to your friends. “Those three spinning around each other are mine.” You would’ve thought this man was about to have a heart attack with how shocked he looked. “You said I looked too young to have teens? You look barely twenty and you ha-” 

You burst out laughing. You couldn’t help it. He really thought you gave birth to three twenty-somethings? He crossed his arms and got defensive. “What’s so funny?” You wipe away a tear from your eye and calm down enough to speak. “I’m here with my friends, not my kids.” This poor man was trying very hard to hide his embarrassment. If you weren’t in the actual conversation with him right now you’d say he was pretty convincing. All he could muster was a quiet Oh before I put my hand on his leg to reassure him that it was fine. “I’m flattered you think I look so young!” The embarrassment started to wash away as he became more comfortable with you. “So how come you're up here talking with me instead of skating with your friends?” he questioned. “Skating has never really been my thing. Besides, why skate when all of the handsome men are off the rink.” At that, the man looked at you with a fierce gaze and licked his lips. 

“I’m Levi.” He stuck his hand out at you. You put your hand in his and shook it. “Nice to meet you. I’m y/n.” You lock eyes with him for a moment before really checking him out. He’s not very tall but he seems to be built. He looked very rugged. It was really doing something to you. When you met his eyes again you realized he was checking you out as well. It sent shivers down your spine. “Listen, I’m gonna be honest here. I’m attracted to you and I can tell you’re attracted to me. We’ve got nothing but time right now. Why don’t we sneak away for a bit?” The implication of what he wanted wasn’t lost on you. Without hesitation you nodded your head. Levi took your hand and led you outside to the parking lot. You wondered which car was his. You weren’t expecting his car to be a soccer mom van. You started snickering, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sound. Levi just looked at you annoyed. “It’s convenient okay.” You calmed down and he helped you into the back seat. 

Normally you’re very good about stranger danger and would never get into the van of someone you met five minutes ago. But right now you really couldn’t care less. You were gonna get dicked down or die trying. As soon as the door closed you were on him, kissing each other with a fiery passion. You both fell onto the seat, you landed on his lap basically straddling him. He grabbed you waist to stabilize you while your hands found purchase in his hair. Sloppy, impatient kisses and roaming hands made you feel like you were soaring. Levi’s hands wandered down to your ass and squeezed. You gasped, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. His exploring tongue has you moaning. You wanted more. Experimentally, you ground your hips down on him causing a filthy moan from the man under you.  You pulled away from him and locked eyes. “Need you. Now.” Levi chuckled. “So impatient, aren’t we?” You didn’t answer. Instead you bucked your hips against him again. His eyes were dilated, eyelids drooping. “On your hands and knees.”

Without a second of hesitation, you did as he commanded. Before you were fully in place, Levi lifted your skirt and pulled down your underwear. “Already so wet.” You couldn’t handle how badly you wanted him. You reached behind you to grab at his bulge but his strong hand stopped you. “So fucking needy. It’s pathetic.” He pins your arms behind your back and undoes his pants with his other hand. Without warning he slams his cock into you, pushing as deep in as possible. You both moaned at the feeling. He felt big, girthy. You only just started but you wanted release and you wanted it quick. You started bouncing on his dick before he pulled you up so that your back was against his chest and you couldn’t move against him as easily. “Such a brat. I’m the one in charge here. You’re just my hole” He smacked your ass before clamming into you with a relentless force. This angle was making it so easy for him to hit you in just the right spot. You were spitting obscenities, overwhelmed by how good he was making you feel. He was whispering words of encouragement in your ear that were stirring your core and bringing you that much closer. “You're taking me so well. Such a good slut for me.” He sped up his thrusts and brought that hand that wasn’t detaining you to choke you. Not enough to hurt but just enough to make your head spin. The pleasure was getting you much. You were getting close and Levi could tell by how tight you were getting. He let go of your arms and reached a had down in front of you and started rubbing circles on your clit. That was all you needed for the coil to snap and you came, gasping for air and spasming. Levi didn’t let up, chasing his own release and sending you into overstimulation. A moment later he was grunting in your ear, hand tightening on your throat as you felt heat filling you up. 

You both collapse onto the seat and just take a minute to collect yourself before you speak. “Fuck, I needed that.” Levi let out a breathless laugh before patting your ass gently and reaching for the paper towels sitting on his center console. Wordlessly he started cleaning you before cleaning himself and discarding the paper towels and pulling your underwear back up. As he puts his pants back on he looks at you with a calm expression. “That was great but we should head back before anyone looks for us.” He stuck out his hand to help you up and out of the van. As much as you didn’t want to go back you conceded. You both walked back to the rink in a comfortable silence. Upon entering you both looked for the people you’d originally arrived here with to find they were all still on the ice. “Here, come with me.” Before you could even realize what was happening, Levi was pulling you towards the cafe and buying you a bottle of water. You were about to protest and suggest that you pay but he spoke first. “Please, after what I just did with you, it’s the least I could do.” You swooned and took a swig from the bottle. As you both walked back to your place in the bleachers you were thinking about you didn’t want this day to end. You looked at Levi who was already staring at you. Your face darkened a bit and you quickly looked away. He smirked and brought your face back to his. “What, I can fuck your brains out and but it’s eye contact that gets you all shy?”  You chuckled nervously. “I was just thinking, I had fun. I’m pretty sure you had fun. What If we did this again.” He scoffed but there was a playful tone to it. “You really are a needy brat, huh? Here.” He hands you his phone that hand a new contact page up and ready. And just the thought of more Levi already had you daydreaming for next time.

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