#series on my shelves i LOVE and i never make the time to continue

[a-dash-in-the-middle]

i love my epic fantasies but WHYYY WHYY MUST ALL OF YOU BE TOMES TRYLOGIES AT SHORTEST

[hisonlykiwi]

"With that kind of power at your disposal, the possibilities are endless."

synopsis: azriel, who's never bothered to acknowledge your existence seeks you out for help.

wc: 1.3k

warnings: mentions of gore memories and trauma.

a/n: hey guys, i'm thinking of making this a small series with multiple parts. please let me know what you think <3

part two

____________________________________________

I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration, looking over the report Rhysand had given me a few days back. I look at the clock ticking away on the wall beside me; It’s been exactly 5 hours and 27 minutes since I came down to the library. 5 hours and 27 minutes of studying the reports of the numerous attacks on Velaris and I’ve got no lead or clear motive.

I let out a sigh, shifting my gaze over to the shelves around me brimming with books that are probably older than me. I wonder how Rhysand keeps such good care of this place, it’s truly a sight for sore eyes. Since a child, I’ve loved nothing more than hiding away in the library and stuffing my face with any book I could- I freeze.

The air around me shifting slightly. I felt a shudder dance down my spine, the air thick and heavy. I move my hand down to my thigh where I keep my dagger. I feel something, no, I feel someone’s eyes watching me. My eyes fix on a darkened corner of the library, instantly seeing a familiar figure. Our gazes instantly lock, and I stir slightly in my seat. An uneasy feeling pooling in my stomach, how long had Azriel been standing there, watching me? I didn’t dare break eye contact until I gasped at the feeling of a cool breeze on my ankle, I looked down to see a tendril of black smoke, very similar to the ones I’ve seen around Azriel. It must’ve felt me staring at it because it hurried back to the unlit corner where Azriel stood.

 I awkwardly clear my throat and release the tight grip I had on the dagger, “Can I ask why you’re lurking in the shadows and watching me?” I say to him, monitoring his every movement. I felt odd asking him a question seeing as we’ve never talked before. I see him all the time but always at a distance, he never talks and always has a stoic expression. The only thing I know of him is he is the spymaster shadowsinger who has been Rhysand’s best friend since childhood and just so happens to be, one of the most powerful Illyrians in Prythian history.

“Just gathering information.” He says, stepping out of the corner, the soft light accentuating his strong features. I tracked his every movement; It was no secret that Azriel was devastatingly handsome. I felt a nervous pang in my chest watching him approach me. “You’re quite fascinating to observe.” He continued, I raised an eyebrow at his statement, “And what exactly is fascinating?” I could feel his eyes scan over my figure, "Your movements, your expression, your presence... It's all quite intriguing." He said in a low deep voice.

I felt a small heat rise to my cheeks, I ran a hand through my hair, unsure of what to do or say. Oddly enough, I felt anxious, but I refuse to let it show. “Is there something I can help you with?” I ask him in a stern voice. I’m confused as to why he is speaking to me in the first place. I watch him take a sit on the chair in front of me, suddenly this table felt quite small.

He watches me, gaze still piercing. "Help me? Well... There is one thing I was curious about..." He said in a suggestive tone. I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest, “About?” I stared back at him. I watched as he mirrored my position, also crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back.

There was curiosity etched in his features, “Two words; reality altering.” I made no movement; the air so tense I could slice it with my dagger. I only stared back at him, expressionless. There is no possible way he knows about my powers, the only two people who know are Rhysand and Amarantha, who’s head I personally saw get impaled to a wall, so safe to say it wasn’t her. And Rhysand wouldn’t be careless enough to give away this vital information, even if the man in front of me was his best friend. “Yeah, I’ve read about it.” I say to him, trying to sound bored.

My comment caused for a smirk to break out on his beautiful face, “A little mouse told me you have a powerful gift. A gift so powerful that people would go to war over it.” I chuckled, “Is that so? When you find that powerful gift, please let me know, I would love to have such power.” I finished with a smile. Azriel's expression remained unflinching as he kept his eyes locked with mine, his intense gaze not wavering.  “Is that what you told Bodhi before you made him brutally murder his entire family?” I felt my breath hitch in my throat, I shut my eyes, memories of Bodhi’s face and his family’s mutilated bodies flooded my mind. The painful memories serving as a reminder of why I will never know peace nor deserve peace. It’s haunted me every single night, their horrific screams replaying over and over in my nightmares.

"Ah, so now it's confirmed." He said, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I knew there was something special about you.” I deeply sigh, trying to push away the thoughts of what Amarantha forced me to do nearly 50 years ago to the back of my mind, like always I’m rendered unsuccessful. I open my eyes to meet his golden eyes once again. “What’s it to you, Azriel?” I spit out at him, his name tasting like venom in my mouth. He leaned over the table, his voice dropping dangerously low. "With that kind of power at your disposal, the possibilities are endless... You could control armies, change the course of history... Or you could use it for more hedonistic pursuits."

Now it’s my turn to mirror his movements, I put my elbows on the table and lean over the table, our faces less than a foot apart. “So, I ask again, what’s it to you?” He replied, his voice low and cold, "It's simple, really. I want to know exactly what that power of yours can do." After a few moments, “No.” I plainly say, I tear my gaze from his and start collecting the report from the table so I can make my way out. "Running away already, are you?", his deep voice said, carrying authority. I ignore him and continue to get my bag, when I felt his hand on my wrist, stopping me from standing up.

“I need your help.” I pause and look back at him, a pleading look on his face. “Why? You’ve never spoken to me, let alone acknowledged my existence. Then you barge in here, provoking me and suddenly you want my help? I have to laugh.” I pull my wrist away, but he grips tighter, “Please.” He says, and I tug my wrist away again, but he doesn’t budge.

 “Let. Me. Go.” I say, unable to withhold my anger. I blink and suddenly, I’m standing in the middle of the woods with Azriel still holding my wrist. He fucking winnowed us to the middle of nowhere. “Azriel, what the fuck are you doing?!” I give him a hard shove, but he doesn’t budge, of course, he doesn’t, he’s a 6’5 man made of pure muscle, ugh! He holds me close to his chest, “I have strong suspicions the inner circle is in grave danger and your abilities would be able to prove if I’m correct.” He quickly says, I stop moving, processing what he just said. He notices, slowly lets me go and moves away a bit but stays close. I peer up at him, confusion and concern laced in my features. “What do you mean, exactly?”

I furrow my eyebrows, still processing. Danger? How could they possibly be in danger? Is that why he brought us out to the middle of the woods, so no one would hear him? I hear Azriel take in a deep breath, “I think Elain is working with Hybern.”

[cephaloheath]

You know, I still don't think it's entirely hit me yet that RWBY is continuing after all.

When I heard that Rooster Teeth was shutting down, I was absolutely distraught. For the past 8 years, I had been deeply engrossed in a series that had brought more emotion out of me than any other series has. And now, with no warning, I was being forced to deal with the potential reality of that series never being brought to its conclusion. It felt like a slap to the face; like I had spent all this time getting immersed in this absolute masterpiece of a series…all for nothing. I just couldn't accept that. And I was prepared to write my own ending if that was what I had to do.

But it makes me REALLY happy to know that that reality has been avoided.

I really can't express how grateful I am to CRWBY for their absolute refusal to give up after Rooster Teeth's shutdown and for putting in the time and effort to find RWBY a new home. In their shoes, a lot of other creators would simply throw in the towel and look for work elsewhere. But CRWBY stuck it out. They didn't give up. And it was thanks to their perseverance that the series has found a new home.

RWBY is a series that I hold very dear to me. It has touched my heart in a way that no other series has. It has made me laugh, almost made me cry (which is saying a LOT for me), made me jump for joy, terrified me, and made me genuinely love and hate fictional characters more than any series I've ever watched. And I am truly overjoyed to see it avoid being shelved and get a second chance with Viz Media.

Rooster Teeth's shutdown damn near killed RWBY. But it DIDN'T kill RWBY. The series is going to continue onwards, and that makes me really happy. Here's to a bright future. I'm really excited to see what comes next.

[missredherring]

J.M. + "Tell me what you like."

Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 556

Contents: Post-outbreak Jackson. fluff. Reader has bad eyesight and mentions wearing glasses.

A/N: This is another of my journal prompt fills! The wheel of destiny picked Joel Miller and "Tell me what you like." from the inexperienced smut prompts.

This is very self-indulgent for me. Don't ask what I'd do to have Pedro read me my favorite book.

Not beta'd. Any mistakes are my own.

Summary: "Tell me what you like."

Series Masterlist

“Can you read this?” 

Joel sighs and gives you a long-suffering look. “Did Tommy tell you I can’t read? I swear that idiot don’t know when to stop jokin’ around.”

He expects you to laugh or at least show him that crooked grin he’s come to like so much, but your face is serious. You sit down beside him at the long table set up to divide the space into its printing and library sections. Calling the three shelves against the far wall a library is generous, especially when all the books spread out across them could probably be fit in half of one if they were condensed. But you’ve done a good job at making the space cozy by adding interesting knick knacks and dragging a beat up couch and mismatched chairs into the space. The rug in the center of it all has seen better days, but that could be said about everything and everyone within the community.

“No, no, he didn’t." You set a small book down on the table, distracting him from his annoyance. 

“This is the one thing I’ve managed to keep safe for 20 years. This tiny, pocket-sized book.” Your hands are still hovering over it, fingertips in contact with the edges like you can’t bear to let it out of your grasp. “My glasses, on the other hand, didn’t make it.”

Joel sucks his teeth and gestures for the book you still haven’t given up. You only hesitate a second before pressing it carefully into his hand, like transferring it securely into his care would ensure it’s continued safety. It’s about as big as his hand, covered in a dark red fabric. Persuasion and Jane Austen are on the spine and the edges of the pages are sprayed with gold. He’s sure he’s heard of the author before, but that’s about it. It’s battered and stained in some places, but it looks like it’s in good condition. He almost swears when he cracks it open, but he can feel your gaze on him. The text is fucking tiny. The pages are like the ones in his mother’s bible: so thin and delicate you can see the text on the back of it coming through. Easy to tear, easy to destroy. You must really love this story to take such good care of it when you can’t even read it anymore. 

“Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage…” The text is damned small but he can read it. If he squints. 

When he looks up again you’re watching his finger on the line of text with greedy eyes. He likes that look on you, especially when it’s directed at him.

“How bad is your eyesight?”

“Pretty bad. I can get by most of the time, but… I can’t read most of the books here without a headache, and certainly not that one.”

He makes a noise and looks down at the text again. “You’ll have to tell me what you like,” He jerks his head to the bookshelves. “Which books.”

Your entire face lights up in surprise and delight and Joel’s glad he still has the book in his hands so he can’t rub at the warm spot that blooms in his chest.

[hopeluna]

!! Fic Recs

Most of these are long fics or series and some of these are 18+ so be aware? But anyways, enjoy these works from absolute writing angels <33

Jujutsu Kaisen

Symptoms & Causes by @lostfracturess

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

Love Entries by @chuluoyi

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: series of episodes of your life with the strongest sorcerer throughout the past and present

men are so quick to blame the gods by @awearywritersworld

Sukuna x reader

Synopsis: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night.

wanna be yours by @nezuscribe

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

his kiss, the riot by @nezuscribe

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: the king has been struck by never-ending grief when he found out about his wife's infidelity. he has her ordered to be killed, but afterward, he is no longer the same. every night he marries a woman, and every morning he has her killed. the endless cycle continues until the night you're chosen to be his wife. instead of letting him ruin you, you tell him a story. you tell him a story that he just has to know the ending to. and so begins the story of one thousand and one arabian nights.

i'd crawl home to her by @likelilacwine

Geto Suguru x reader

Summary: the god of the underworld brings his most valued prize home at the risk of tearing the realm itself apart.

Boku No Hero Academia

@andypantsx3

Yes, her entire blog. Pls each and every series of her is god send. I cannot reccomend this to you enough!!

pretty white dress by @gaybybirth

Dabi x reader

Synopsis: You're shelving books like normal at work when a new face comes into the store. And in a small town where everyone knows each other, a new face really stands out. Especially when it's one that makes you burn in ways you never have.

FILL MY LITTLE WORLD (RIGHT UP) by @shibaraki

Aizawa Shouta x reader

Synopsis: you are employed by aizawa shouta to nanny for his vulnerable adoptive daughter eri while he’s at work. as time passes you find yourself equally smitten with them both, longing for a more permanent place in their family.

please save me by @hitoshiyoshi

Platonic!young!shimura tenko x reader

Synopsis: you save shimura tenko

Stranger Things

Not Wholly Evil by @uglypastels

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

As you wish by @corroded-hellfire

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: When Eddie isn’t appreciated like he should be, his babysitter feels the need to step in and comfort him.

Living After Midnight by @munson-blurbs

Eddie Munson x reader

Synopsis: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head.

Please do tell me if you want to be removed from this for whatever reason!!

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Kinktober Special Part 1

The Crew's Whore (Part 1)

It's KINKTOBER BABY!!! I'm celebrating early and it's getting weird. Making a multi part series about being the Straw Hat's plaything. If anyone has any suggestions about other chapters, I'm happy to hear them! I'm open to almost anything! Sanji is first, because like? Of course he is.

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great talent. Your years working as a high-end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy. 

Pairing: SUB Sanji x DOM afab!reader

WC: 3600 lmao

TW: sub and dom situation, she tops him, groping, masturbation, pet names, submissive behavior, kissing, voyeurism, BONDAGE, rope play, BDSM, cropping, riding crop usage, smacking, edging, teasing, submissive sanji :(, vaginal sex, fingering, begging.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 1: The Cook

You had been sailing with the Straw Hat crew for just a week now after agreeing to join their band of pirates. You made an agreement to join them not only to aide in their battles but also to provide your… services. You always had an insatiable sexual appetite, hence becoming such a professional in your line of work. After a week with not a single suitor, you had felt yourself become needy and frustrated. It had been 7 days and not a single member of your newly found crew had come to seek you out for some relief. Not even Sanji… 

You were so sure he was going to be rapping at your door the first night you spent aboard the Sunny. When you agreed to join the crew and allow your body to be used by any of them at any time, Sanji’s nose sprung a leak so strong that he had to be carried back to his room partially conscious. 

So when a week had passed and he hadn’t made you a proposal, you were concerned. He had barely even fawned over Robin or Nami either, actually… He seemed off. You started to watch him closer throughout the day. He was constantly running back and forth between dishes, preparing meals, setting tables, and taking inventory of the pantry, he just looked so spread thin, not like the charismatic love drunk cook you had gotten to know. You realized that had he not been so busy, of course he would have made a pass at you, he just needed to relax and frankly, so did you. 

The hour grew late and you knew while most of your shipmates would be in bed, Sanji would be in the galley finishing up the dishes from dinner. You finish the glass of white wine you were enjoying on the deck and walk into the kitchen. 

“Y/n my darling,” Sanji sighed out tiredly as he saw it was you who entered the galley. “Do you need more wine? I can open another bottle if you just give me a moment I have-“ He looked for a towel to wipe his hands dry of the dish water. 

“Sanji thanks but no, it’s fine. Keep doing what you’re doing. I’m a big girl, I can get it myself. I don’t want to make more work for you.”

“If it’s for you, my love, it’s never work.” 

You chuckled and winked at him as you headed towards the wine pantry. You perused the shelves for a bit before grabbing a bottle off the rack and walked back out to the kitchen where Sanji had returned to washing dishes. You noticed his broad shoulders tensing under his dress shirt as he continued to clean. He really was pretty. You walked towards him. “You still keep that wine key in your pants pocket, Sanji?” You ask him, a sultry low tone in your voice. 

“Oh, um, yeah, I’ll grab it hold on-“ Sanji stutters out as he removes his hands from the sink.

“No need.” You came up behind him and snaked your hand into the front pocket of his dress slacks.  In doing this you pressed your breasts against his back. You fished around in his pocket as you brought your other hand to grab his hip. You felt the wine key immediately but you moved your hand past it, feeling around pretending to still look for it. You moved you hand over inside his pocket and softly placed it over his cock and you felt it twitch in his briefs through the thin fabric of the pocket. 

“Y/n!” Sanji was turning bright red and a single drop of blood spilled from his nose. 

“Is that a bottle opener in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” You smiled wickedly up at him peeking around his shoulder. You softly squeezed his hardening dick. Sanji had gone into shock, your hand was feeling him up through his pants and he could barely think anymore. 

You continued, “Sanji you do so much for us. You work so hard every day to keep us fed and safe. You make so many hard choices and spend all day taking care of everyone except for yourself. Don’t you think you deserve a break? A break from everything? A time for you just to let your mind go completely blank?” 

You purred into his ear as you continued to very slightly stroke him and squeeze him through his pants pocket. Sanji was breathing heavily and couldn’t get out any words, his mind short circuiting. 

“You don't have to answer right this second, but if you’ll let me help you, come to my room in an hour.” You pulled your hand back out of his pocket and brought the wine key with you on your way out. You give him a seductive eyebrow raise before you left the kitchen and brought your wine bottle with the newly acquired opener down to your room. 

You stripped your clothes off upon entering your room and started opening up the wine bottle. You took a swig straight from the perfectly chilled bottle and giggled to yourself. This would be fun. You knew he would show up, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind he could resist you after the little show you put on in the kitchen. You head over to your walk in closet and grabbed a black silk robe with lace dripped off the sleeves and slipped it on. You walked even further into your closet into your favorite section. All of your favorite toys and naughty items were hung neatly on the walls and packed into shelves. You smiled, finally getting back to your old self again. You wanted to give Sanji the night of his life, especially after how well he takes care of you and the rest of the crew. 

You ghost your hands over various bondage items before grabbed old reliable, some simple red rope. You decided to get your softest crop, knowing that Sanji probably wasn’t used to this type of sexual encounter. You didn’t want to really hurt him… not tonight at least. 

You laid both items out on your bed and you sat down against the cushions and settled in with your bottle of wine. You couldn’t help but feel warm all over, electric with the excitement of taking a new lover. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together, your cunt starting to get wet. 

*knock knock* 

“Come in.” You shout as you get off the bed and walk towards the door. Sanji opens it and shyly steps inside. 

“Y/n… I.. don’t know what to say… I just… I guess… I need it.” Sanji stumbled horribly over his  words, eyes glued to where your robe dipped low into your cleavage. 

“Need what, Sanji?” You needed to hear him say it. 

“I need your help, Y/n. I had all these grand plans to impress you and make our first time together perfect and romantic but I just… I’ve been so exhausted… I’m so burnt out…” He sighed out, clearly so stressed. 

“I know you are… That’s why I’m going to help you relax. You don’t have to think about a thing… Or lift a single finger… Do you trust me, Sanji?” You approach him and start wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your face close to nuzzle his nose with yours. “Let me relieve your stress tonight.” 

He answers you with a passionate kiss grabbing the sides of your face with both hands. He continues to kiss you with fervor as he pushes you back towards the bed. He pulls away, there’s so much lust in his eyes, but you can tell he’s exhausted. 

“Yes, I want that. Please." He pleaded for you. 

You smiled at him. This was going to be fun. 

“Ok. Strip, then. Completely naked on the bed. Spread eagle. Quickly.” Your voice turned commanding as soon as you heard his consent. He stared at you for a moment dumbfounded before he started loosening his tie and stripping off his clothes. Once his dress socks were off he practically jumped onto your bed. His cock was already standing at attention from your teasing earlier in the galley. 

*pretty…* you thought. 

You grabbed your rope from the corner of the bed and started tying each of his limbs to your bedframe. It wasn’t tight, or stretching him at all, he had plenty of slack rope for movement, but he certainly wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Now sweet boy… You’re going to do everything I say… no matter what… Understand? And if you need a break, you say “strawberry”. Got it?” You ask him as you tighten each knot. Sanji nods excitedly. 

“No no,” You smack his naked thigh with 2 fingers. He winced.  “You tell me out loud.”

“Yes, y/n. I understand. I will do anything you say.” 

“Hm… Good.” You smirk to yourself as you bring an armchair to sit directly in front of the bed in Sanji’s line of sight. His chest was heaving, he was feeling so many things. Excitement. Nervousness. Everything. His cock was already stating to leak and you had done nothing more than tie him to the bed. You met his gaze. You slipped your robe to the floor revealing your full naked body to him without breaking eye contact. He falters and drops his eyes to your gorgeous, bare body. His mouth drops open. 

You grab his suit jacket off the floor and reach into the inner pocket grabbing his smokes and his lighter before dropping the jacket back down. You saunter slowly over to the chair and sit down, crossing your legs and leaning back. You slide a cigarette out of the pack and light it. 

“Ohhhh Black-leg…” Your blow out with a puff of smoke. “Look at you now… So sweet and willing… Can you imagine if people saw you like this?” You smiled as you took another drag. “Even that swordsman?”

“Have you had him?” Sanji was burst out of his lust filled haze at the mention of his rival. 

You laughed “Oh sweetheart no. He’s so clueless, I don’t even think he knows what I’m here for. I haven’t had anyone on the crew yet. You’re going to be my first.”

You blow out a cloud of smoke as you lean back further and spread your legs for him. Sanji could see the glistening slick on the lips of your perfect cunt. You take a last drag of the cigarette and snuffed it out in the ashtray on your side table.  You continue,

“And they say you always remember your first…” Sanji audibly whimpers at your words. His cock was leaking precum down his veiny shaft. He tugged lightly at his restraints, thinking maybe he could get free and grab you. He couldn’t. You were a professional, after all. 

You grab your breasts and begin to toy with your nipples, breathing out an airy sigh. After kneading and playing with your tits for awhile, you snake your left hand down your body. You use your pointer and middle finger to spread your pussy wide open for Sanji to see your swollen clit and leaking hole. 

Sanji lurches his body forward instinctively, desperately trying to get closer to your dripping cunt that was putting on a show for him. He groans loudly. 

“Please, Y/n… Let me touch you please… I can make you feel good I promise!” 

You tut at him while bringing your right hand down to your pussy and using 3 fingers to slowly rub your clit, “no no sweet boy, you do so much already. You need to rest.” Your smile was evil.

Soft little sighs leave your mouth as you pleasure yourself. Sanji’s chest was heaving dramatically as he watched you, no more words leaving his mouth, only heavy breaths. You bring down your fingers and push them inside of yourself, moaning and throwing your head back in the process. You immediately pushed them up towards your spot and rubbed it forcefully. Your pussy was so slick that the heel of your palm slipped effortlessly across your clit as you pumped your fingers inside of yourself. The pressure in your lower belly starting building as you moaned louder. 

You pick your head up and look at the gorgeous blonde submissive in front of you. God, you missed this. Fully bringing a man to his sexual limits. He looked so sad but so turned on, beads of sweat running down his forehead. You continued fucking yourself to orgasm as his eyes were locked onto your stuffed cunt. 

“Do you wanna watch me cum, sweet boy? Would that make you happy?” You breathed out at him as you brought yourself right to the edge of climax. 

“GOD FUCK yes, please God yes y/n please I want to see it so badly! You’re so beautiful!” Sanji was so desperate he was shouting as you. His cock twitched painfully against his belly, leaking precum onto his abs. The sight allowed you to shudder forward into a powerful orgasm. “Fuck!” You shriek out as you squirt out warm liquid over your hand. You shake and spasm as your orgasm finished wreaking havoc on your body. 

You pull out your fingers and sit up in your chair as you regain strength. You rise up and walk towards Sanji’s head laying on one of your pillows. “Open.”

He turns towards you to meet your eyes, he obliges. You shove your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. He immediately wraps his tongue around your fingers, trying desperately to taste the flavors of your delicious cunt. His eyes roll back in his head, he closes his mouth around your fingers and sucks them needing to get every last drop down his throat. 

“Oh what a good boy you are, taking your reward so well!” You praise him as he sucks your fingers. He lets out a massive groan around your hand and his body lurches forward. You turn your head to look down his body. 

He had just cum. From sucking on your fingers. There was a massive trail of semen across his abdomen. You gasp. You reach to your left and grab the smooth riding crop laying on the bed. A disastrous smile spreads across your face. 

“You! little! slut!” You smack his left thigh with your crop. Sanji winces and gasps. “Look at you! I didn’t know you were such a desperate little thing!” You punctuate your teasing with more slaps to his thighs and chest as you circle the bed, like a hyena stalking its prey. 

“Just… Just for you… my love… Please…” Sanji was breathing so hard, after cumming untouched he still felt unsatisfied. The leather cracking on his thighs was providing him the perfect amount of pain for his dick to perk up again. He needed your body on him now…. Your mouth, your hands, your pussy ANYTHING, he needed more. 

“Please what, greedy boy? It seems you’ve already gotten a reward. What else could you possibly need, hmm?” You giggled wickedly as you give him more light smacks with your crop. 

“Please fuck me y/n! Please fuck me! Anything you want, just please touch me!” Sanji shouts at you. He tugs violently at his restraints, needing to grab your body and ravish it like you deserve. 

“shhhh.. relax honey.. you’ve done so good.. I’ll help you now… just relax, okay?” You kiss his forehead before dropping your crop and hopping up to straddle him on the bed. You begin kissing his neck and sucking dark red hickeys onto it so that he could prove to his rival that he was the one to take you first. You knew he’d love that. Sanji moans out under your deep kisses on his collar bone. He jerks his hips upwards towards your core, trying to feel some wetness or pressure on his hard cock. 

You reach down and line his leaking dick up with your entrance. It was so velvety and thick, you swipe it through your wetness a few times, gasping at the feeling of it’s mushroom tip pressing on your clit. 

“Goooood baby boy, so good.” You coo to him as you sink down on his length. Your dominant persona faltered for only a brief moment as he stretched your hole so deliciously. 

“Fuck…” You gasped out. 

“Miss y/n please… I need more… please… want you to fuck me so bad, need to feel you so bad…” Sanji was nearly crying as he tried to lift his hips off the bed to drill into you, but wasn’t able to due to his restraints. 

“Oh don’t worry my sweet boy, once I get off from your big cock I’ll let you fill me up so good okay? You just have to wait until I’m finished, you can do that for me, right baby?”

“YES yes please I want to fill you! Yes, I’ll do anything!” 

You smile at him and hold the side of his face in your hands. You start to grind yourself onto his fat cock, bringing yourself towards another orgasm. You pushed your thumb into his mouth, Sanji immediately wrapped his lips around it and sucked at it desperately. Continuing to ride Sanji, you leaned back so that you could rub your clit as his member rubbed back and forth against that perfect spot inside of you. Your moans became louder and louder as you used his gorgeous body for your own pleasure.

He released your thumb with a wet pop. “My l-love… it’s too much… you’re too tight and wet, I’m going to-“

You stopped moving and leaned forward to wrap your hand gently around his throat. Your fingers were wet on his skin from rubbing your clit. 

“No. No you’re not. You haven’t asked and I haven’t given you permission. I am not finished. You haven’t earned your reward.”

Sanji gulped loudly and nodded his head. “O-of course love, I-I only want your pleasure.” 

“Good.” You smiled down at him as you resumed your actions to bring yourself to climax. It was only a few more moments before you found yourself being close to that edge again. You grinded your pelvis so deeply into his, burying his cock into you and rubbing your clit against the skin at his base. 

“YES, fuck!” You threw your head back as your cunt came all over Sanji’s cock. Squeezing and creaming all over his shaft, Sanji was in sensory overload. 

“Please miss! I need to-! Fuck! Now, please!” Sanji pleaded with you.

Your voice came out hoarse and tired, still wrecked from your powerful orgasm. “Yes sweet boy, fill me up all the way baby. You’ve been so good honey, cum inside of me.” You softly breath out to him as you try to come down. You feel a hard thrust from below and Sanji screams out, 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” A tear spills past his lash line as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. Feeling the stress and pressure of his day leave his body, he shudders. 

You feel the final pulses of his orgasm fade out and you move yourself gently off of his softening cock. You begin untying the rope knots around his limbs as he tries to collect himself, brain broken from cumming so hard. You finish untying him and you run your hand over the marks left by your riding crop. You hobble over to your side table and pour out a glass of water. You bring the blanket at the foot of the bed and spread it out over Sanji’s sweaty body, tucking it in at the sides. 

“hey.. sit up baby. Have a little water before you sleep, okay?” You coo in his ear softly as you stroke his hair. Sanji sits up on his elbows weakly and grabs the glass you offered him. He gulps down the water and hands it back to you. You place the glass on the side table and curl up by his side in bed. 

“So… How are you feeling?” You asked him, eager to provide him of any aftercare he needed. 

“Y/n I… It was perfect…” He turns to look at you in the eyes. “It was more perfect than I could have ever imagined. I feel so much better, like a weight is lifted off my chest. Thank you, y/n.” Sanji leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your lips. 

“Good. I like when you’re happy. Foods better.” You smiled at him. He laughed. 

As you fell asleep in his arms he couldn’t help but to grin and think to himself, 

“Wait until fucking moss head finds out I was first…” 

[justabigassnerd]

Summer of Love pt. 1

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader

Word count - 2,367

Warnings - none

Summary - while in the final stages of recovery after a mission gone wrong, Bradley signs himself up to work at a summer camp just for something to do since Maverick has barred him from Navy work for the time being. meanwhile, you're in between jobs and figure working at a summer camp is some good experience. you meet Bradley and experience a romance you could've never expected (along with some very nosy kids)

Summer of Love masterlist

A/N - here it is y'all! the very first part of 'Summer of Love' I am so excited to be posting this I'm honestly so impressed with myself for writing it as quick as I did and I hope this lives up to expectations. I will say I am open to suggestions on things people may like to see within the series so if you have ideas do feel free to suggest them in my inbox :). anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

After hours upon hours of driving, you finally pulled into the summer camp that was to be your home and workplace for the next couple of months. You parked your car and stepped out of the driver’s seat raising your arms and stretching, sighing as you take in the sights of the camp, amazed at all the beauty that surrounded you.

After stretching and bringing some relief to your tense body, you head in the direction of the buildings you saw, trying to locate the office and soon figuring it out by process of elimination. You approach the building, seeing someone standing just outside who is watching the various soon-to-be counsellors walking around and interacting with each other and they soon notice you approaching them.

“Hello! I’m Kerry!” The woman greets you enthusiastically and you immediately recognise her to be the Camp Director.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You say, holding your hand out to shake hers before she consults her clipboard, eyes scanning the list for your name.

“Ah, there you are. You’ll be in cabin six. We put the counsellors in cabins together for orientation so you guys can get to know each other and near the end of orientation, we give you guys your cabins for the summer.” Kerry explains, gesturing for you to follow her as she leads you towards some wooden carts you could use to put your belongings in to carry them to the cabin easier and she waits patiently for you to unload your stuff into the cart before having you follow her to the cabin you’d be staying in for the duration of orientation. The cabin wasn’t huge, but it didn’t need to be. It sat just along the lake as all the cabins did.

When you enter the cabin, it is empty but there is evidence of other people. Neatly made beds, people’s stuff upon bedside tables and shelves.

“Thank you, Kerry.” You thanked her as you explored the cabin. Kerry bids you goodbye and tells you when meal times are and lets you know that you’re free to explore the camp and get your bearings before leaving you to your own devices. You picked an empty bed and began moving your stuff from the cart outside to the cabin and began unpacking slightly, making your bed and tucking your suitcase under the bed to clear space. You hadn’t packed too much, just following the very basics of the packing list you were sent so thankfully your bag wasn’t too big or heavy.

When you finished unpacking and tidying your stuff away, you decided to leave the cabin and explore the camp a little. Instead of backtracking the way you came when Kerry showed you to your cabin, you went the opposite direction, following the row of cabins until you reached a spot overlooking the lake and you took a moment to take in the sights. The camp was surrounded by woodland as well as the lake and the trees extended all along the lakeside, but you could see small wooden buildings directly opposite you on the lake which was a clear indicator that this camp wasn’t the only camp on the lake. After appreciating the beauty before you, you continue to walk the line of cabins, unsurprised to see that they’re mostly the same size with a small handful being a little smaller for fewer kids. You pass various other members of staff who offer you a smile and a wave which you return. You then soon end up back at the main area of the camp where the dining hall and office are located.

“Hey, I saw you standing here so I figured I’d come over and say hi. I’m Ella.” A woman approaches you with a smile. She looked to be a little younger than you but regardless you smiled and introduced yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ella. I’m y/n. I’m just getting my bearings. It’s pretty spacious.” You reply, watching as she nods before glancing around the space around you.

“It takes a bit of getting used to. This is my second summer here so I’m more than happy to show you around if you’d like.” Ella offers, looking back at you with a friendly smile.

“If it’s not too much trouble I’d love it if you could show me around.” You say gratefully, following Ella as she gestures for you to follow her. She first leads you to the dining hall, taking you to the top of the stairs and showing you the large room filled with tables.

“This is the dining hall. It will be much more chill with just staff because when the kids arrive it can get noisy, not to mention all the songs at dinner.” Ella explains with a laugh, thinking back to her last year at camp.

“Got it. Make sure I prepare for all the songs.” You reply, chuckling slightly at the image of the dining hall filled with kids singing. You then follow Ella back down the stairs and stick by her side as she gives you a full tour of the camp, even explaining how certain things work around camp as well as giving little anecdotes of her own past experiences. You even find out that she’s staying in the same cabin as you during orientation which makes you relax upon the thought that you now know at least one person in the cabin. When Ella concludes the unofficial tour, you notice a group of male counsellors emerging from the staff lounge all talking over each other as they head towards the dining room just as you hear Ella mentioning that it is almost dinner time. You and Ella make your way to the dining room and join the queue for food, standing behind one of the men who had walked past you just moments prior and he soon turned around to face you and you never could’ve prepared yourself for how attractive this man was.

He was tall, had sandy blond hair and had brown eyes that looked perfect when the sun hit them. He was muscular and sporting a moustache which you thought suited him. When he locked eyes with you, he smiled softly and decided to strike up a conversation.

“Hey, you must’ve just arrived today. I’m Bradley.” He introduced himself, his smile never fading nor his eyes leaving yours even as he reached for a paper plate to serve up his meal.

“Yeah, I’ve not been here very long. I’m y/n.” You reply with a smile, grabbing a plate of your own and dishing yourself up some food.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” You couldn’t lie at that moment. Bradley saying your name felt so right. Your name rolled off his tongue effortlessly and you tried to fight back your emotions because you did not want to be catching feelings this early on, if at all. You soon both reached the end of the food line and headed over to a free table. Some of the guys Bradley was with and Ella sat at your table as well and the eight of you spent the meal getting to know each other a little more.

“So, y/n, what kind of activities are you going to be running at camp?” One of the guys named Cameron asks after taking a sip of his water.

“Just general field sports, mostly hockey, but I am signed up to lead the occasional hikes the kids can do. What about you guys?” You say, listening intently to all the replies you receive. Most of the guys were going to be lifeguards, Ella was teaching sewing and crafts and Bradley had just remained silent.

“What about you, Bradley?” Ella asks with a smile, curious about his job within the camp.

“Same as y/n actually. Except I’ll be mostly teaching soccer. But I am doing the hiking thing as well.” Bradley admits with a sheepish smile, a tone and demeanour you didn’t expect from him.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re starting to get to know each other already then.” You reply with a smile looking over at Bradley as he relaxes a little, smiling back at you.

The rest of the meal flies by and you soon exit the hall with Bradley, Ella, and the others and you all decide to throw around a tennis ball one of the guys who would be teaching tennis had. You tossed the ball between each other, chatting and attempting to distract each other as you all laughed. Soon enough, the sun began to set and many people began to retreat into the staff lounge to spend the rest of the evening with the rest of the staff and to watch a movie together. However, you chose to remain outside, sat on the porch, gently rocking on one of the rocking chairs that sat on the porch and watched the beautiful golden glow illuminate the camp as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

“Didn’t want to come in?” You turn around to see Bradley poking his head out of the door, having noticed your lack of presence in the staff lounge.

“I don’t really get to see sunsets like this. I wanted to appreciate each one while I get the chance.” You admit as Bradley crosses the porch, easing himself down into the other chair and focusing his attention back on you.

“You should see the sunsets where I live.” Bradley mumbles softly, thinking of the sunsets he had grown accustomed to back in Miramar.

“I take it they’re pretty.” You say in response, your eyes still fixed on the horizon and the fading of the sun.

“They’re gorgeous” Bradley says, watching the corners of your mouth twitch up into a smile before you turn to look at him. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until you spoke up again.

“I must admit I’m very jealous that you get sunsets as pretty as this. You never really got to see the sunsets where I used to live. I can only hope when I move and start my new job I’ll have some places to watch the sunset.” You say, trying your best not to let your sadness and anxieties sneak into your voice. You had lived in the same place almost your whole life and recently realised you weren’t doing what you wanted to be doing so uprooting what you knew and moving someplace entirely new was scary. Not to mention working in a summer camp in the middle of it all.

“What’s your new job? If you don’t mind me asking.” Bradley enquires, eyes watching you with nothing but curiosity.

“Teaching. I always wanted to be a teacher and I finally got the chance, even if it does mean I’ve got to handle a big move. What about you? What do you do?” You admit with a chuckle before asking Bradley what he does for a living.

“I’m a naval aviator. I got a good chunk of time off so figured I’d do something worthwhile with my time.” Bradley says, trying not to sound boastful about his job but still wanting to display his pride in his career. He knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth about why he was granted so much time off but he couldn’t do that to you. You seemed so sweet and he didn’t want to dump any of his trauma on you. Before another word could be spoken, you hear the door swing open once more and this time Ella appears.

“Hey, I was going to head back to the cabin to get ready for bed. Wanna come with?” She asks as you nod, standing up and just then realising how tired you were from travelling.

“I could do with an early night. I’ll see you around Bradley.” You say, at first to Ella before directing your goodbye to Bradley, sending him a soft wave and smile as you follow Ella and Bradley watches as you disappear into the darkness that now covers the camp and soon Cameron and the rest of Bradley’s cabin mates emerge from the staff lounge.

“You’ve been out here then?” John asks, having wondered where Bradley was.

“I bet he was out here with y/n. He’s been smitten since he first saw her.” Freddy then says as Bradley rolls his eyes and gets up from his seat, heading back towards his cabin with his cabin mates on his tail.

“Yes, I was out here with y/n. No, I am not smitten.” Bradley says as the boys catch up to him. He was lying of course. Bradley hadn’t been one to believe in love at first sight no matter how much his mother had told him about it growing up. But now he was starting to believe that she might be right.

Meanwhile, you had gotten ready for bed and had clambered into your bed, listening to the sounds of nature just outside your window as Ella got in the bed opposite yours.

“So, how did you enjoy your first day?” Ella asks as the two of you lay back on your beds, staring up at the ceiling.

“It was great. I can’t wait for tomorrow.” You say with a smile despite knowing Ella couldn’t see it.

“It’s good you get on so well with Bradley already. It really helps to get along with the people you are going to spend the most time with.” Ella then says, making you raise an eyebrow at her intentions.

“He’s easy to get along with. He’s a nice guy.” You reply, glancing in the direction of Ella’s bed.

“I bet your crush on him is helping too.” Ella says and you let out a laugh and roll your eyes.

“And on that note, goodnight, Ella.” You say lightly, rolling over and facing the wall as Ella jokingly groans and laughs at your reaction before quieting down and whispering a goodnight of her own. You watch the wall silently, thinking over Ella’s words for a few moments before letting your tired eyes finally drift close.

You couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@noz4a2 @kim-stark

[anxiouseldergod]

hiii I love the premise of your au ✨️

I was wondering about a couple things..

1. is grim part of it?

2. what about ace and Deuce? what do they do? I think it would cute if they were still super close to reader (I'm totally NOT a huge fan of the heartshackle dynamic /s)

I wrote way more on this then I meant to lmao

While I do intend for this to be an x reader series thingy, this is more of a "how you met" scenario, so it doesn't really have any romance.

It's kind of long, so it's all below the cut!

I had planned to include Grim in my post going over my au, actually! I ended up writing it in the middle of the night though and completely forgot to add him there lol

In my au, Grim lives with the reader as their familiar! Maybe it's an overused trope to make him their familiar in au's, but I have this cute image in my head of him trying to help around both the shops.

struggling to reach certain shelves to fill them with books of magical items, napping on the counters next to you while you're working, going out with you while collect herbs...

I adore my dumbass son.

as for adeuce? I feel like they would be regular customers at the magic shop, always stocking up on healing items.

I see them as rookie (but surprisingly successful) adventurers.

They were trained by family members, Ace learned from his older brother and Deuce from his mom (a now retired adventurer).

They ended up joining the same guild, Heartslabyul, which is based in one of the cities nearby.

As the two newest members, they often get paired up together, much to their dismay.

I feel like they heard rumors of the magic shop in the woods and got curious, wanting to know if it was actually real.

So, they set out, going deeper and deeper into the dark woods. Just when they thought maybe it wasn't real, they stumbled across you.

They were certainly surprised to find you living in the woods with just your familiar to keep you company.

Entering your shop, they were immensely disappointed to see a bookstore instead of a magic shop.

You greet them politely, smiling from behind the counter.

"Welcome! Feel free to look around, let me know if you need anything."

While neither of them are at all interested in the books you have, they decide to look around anyway. They came all this way, after all.

The two boys disappear from you line of sight, conversing quietly as they browse the shelves despite their lack of interest. Grim looks up from the can of tuna he was eating, ear twitching as he stares in their direction curiously.

After finishing his snack, Grim wanders away from you, toward where the two had gone. He weaves through the maze of shelves, peeking out from behind one. He watches the boys argue quietly.

"No, I told you it wasn't real! But you just had to come see!"

"What? How is this my fault? You wanted to come too.."

The back and forth continues for a moment as Grim watches from the side. The whole scene is greatly amusing to him and, without realizing, he lets out a small laugh.

Ace and Deuce pause in their useless bickering, turning to stare at the laughing creature. They look thoroughly confused by him, clearly never having seen anything like him. Ace speaks up first.

"Hang on, is that weird cat laughing at us–"

Grim's face immediately changes as the fire coming from his ears burns a little brighter. He stomps his little foot, tail swishing angrily.

"I am NOT a cat!"

The boys jump a bit, deuce accidentally backing into the bookshelf behind him.

"Why can it talk?!" He shouts, before seemingly remembering the sign that told him to keep quiet. He tries again, whisper shouting this time. "Why can it talk?!"

Grim looks even more upset at this. "Why can you talk? Clearly you don't have anything smart to say!"

Ace laughs at this, snorting before covering his mouth in an attempt to hide his amusement. Deuce notices this and elbows him.

Grim turns to Ace, hands on his hips as he speaks to him. "You don't seem much smarter, you know."

Now, Ace is upset. He yells at Grim, not worried about keeping his voice down. "What would some ugly kitten know about me anyway?"

Grim is even more offended now. In his upset, he gets the bright not idea to scare the two with with his fire magic. He breathes a blue flames toward them, successfully scaring them like he had intended.

However, he didn't account for Deuce's reaction.

"I summon thee, cauldron!"

A large cauldron comes crashing down from seemingly nowhere. It hits the bookshelf beside them and sends it crashing to the ground,

Grim manages to mostly avoid the disaster, but ends up getting his tail smashed by a stray book. A rather large one too. He yelps in pain, shooting more fire magic out reflexively.

Ace and Deuce look on in horror as the book shelf falls over completely, Grim's flames catching on the books. The smoke builds up around them, making it hard to see.

Suddenly, the fire is put out all at once.

As the smoke clears, the three of them see you angry face as you survey the damage they caused.

Grim scrambles behind your legs, holding his sore tail and glaring at the adventurers.

Deuce is practically tripping over himself trying to apologize, but is abruptly stopped as you inspect the cauldron on the ground.

"You use magic?"

You can see the color drain from their faces at your question. Their both stammering, coming up with lame excuses or trying to change the subject.

Ace is sure you'll snitch about Deuce's magic, and he'll get busted for keeping it a secret. He's (overly) confident that he can escape the law if he has to, but he's more worried about how his brother will react.

Deuce is sure he'll never go another quest, then he'll never achieve his dream of becoming a legendary adventurer! He can already see his mother's disappointed face when she hears that her only son was locked up due to illegal use of summoning magic. Which is why he's so confused when he hears you laugh.

"What a terrible display! You're not very experienced are you?" You say, a smile growing on you face. You turn to Ace. "I'm assuming you use it too, right? Actually, no need to answer, I can sense your magic energy."

Grim looks up at you incredulously. "Why are ya laughin'? Aren't ya gonna tear into 'em for the mess they made?"

You smile to yourself, closing your eyes as you think for a moment. "Oh, you're all in trouble, Grim. But I think this might actually work in my favor."

You turn back to Ace and Deuce, who stand there in confusion. "You were here looking for The Moon's Alcove, right? Come with me!"

Bewildered, the boys and Grim follow you from the chaos of your destroyed bookshelf. They watch as you unlock the door in the back. You lead them through it, into your magic shop while ignoring their awed expressions.

"Here it is!" You exclaim, arms out as you gesture to your secret shop. "I run the place. Here lately I've had more customers than usual. It's difficult for me to mange the shops and gather materials for potions and other items. Obviously, I can't trust Grim to go alone."

Your familiar makes an offended sound from beside your feet.

"As payment for the damage you've caused here today, I'd like the two of you to gather my materials." You explain.

"Like, a job?" Ace asks, sneering at the thought of extra work.

"Mhm! Should be easy since adventurers like you are always exploring and foraging anyway. I'll even pay you, you'll get extra if you can find me some magical items or artifacts."

Deuce puts his hand to chin, looking around the colorful shop as muses aloud. "I mean, if it keeps us out of trouble..."

You clap your hands together, magic flying from them in little sparkles due to your excitement. "I would never snitch! I'm in no position to anyway. So, do we have a deal?"

The boys look to each other, shrugging as they come to a silent conclusion.

"I guess?"

"Great!" You clap again. "I actually forgot to mention something though, since this is to repay me for the damage to my precious books, I actually won't be paying you the firs two weeks."

"What?!" They exclaim in unison.

Ace crosses his arms. "Repayment of not, what makes you think we'll do this for free? What if we just run off and don't come back, huh?"

Before they can complain further, you take a small pouch from your pocket. Carefully, you pour a small amount of red powder into you hand and then toss it into the air above their heads. It drifts down onto them as you say a few mysterious words with your hands clasped together, they glow slightly.

"There! Now if you try to weasel out of this, your heads will explode!"

The boys look horrified at this statement, backing away from you quickly. Ace takes back his previous words, assuring you he they'll do their job well.

Eventually, a few more terms are worked out between you and them and they leave. It's agreed that they'll spend the next few days searching for the materials you listed and then bring them to you at a specific date.

Not long after they leave does it begin to grow dark out. You sit on your bed, gently applying a mild healing ointment to Grim's sore tail.

After a moment of silence, he speaks. "Are ya really gonna explode their heads if they don't listen?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Of course not, that's way too far."

"Then what was that powder you put on 'em?"

"Paprika."

[ominoose]

OMG. Your date idea is so cute. I hope you do end up posting it, but no pressure of course. <3 Speaking of blind boxes, I feel like he would enjoy these!: Aaru Garden Ancient Egypt Mythology Series 1 & 2 from KikaGoods and YOKI Travel Round the World Series from Pop Mart. Oh! And I saw these Egyptian themed slimes from @slime.fantasies and I feel like if they had an activity for the children with them, he'd end up giving in to try them all out. Whatadork!<3 (ಥ◡ಥ)

𝐀 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞

Pairing: Steven Grant x GN!Reader Summary: You surprise Steven with a cute trip to Popmart! Warning: None. WC: 533

Ended up being small and kind of a mess but short and sweet ig :)

The date had been your idea. Despite living in London for a decent while, Steven never really shopped about, owed to the museum job and the hassle with discovering his DID and an Egyptian god that he unwillingly worked under. That was all in the past now and since your discovery of Stevens lack of actual activity around London since dating, it became your self-appointed mission to take him out to re-fall in love with his home city.

"Oh wow…" Was all the Brit could say as you led him to Pop Mart. Shelves upon shelves lined with various cute and colourful mini figurines filled the store walls behind the glass windows and large statues of the front. It wasn't too busy, but by London standards that still meant there were a few groups milling around.

He was hesitant to step inside, but once you took the first step with him he was buzzing. Bee-lining to different shelves, oo-ing and ah-ing at the different series of figures, from cute little fairies to weird little monsters in sailor outfits.

If Steven didn't have Marc quietly reminding him they were 'pretty broke' right now the Brit would've filled a basket with all sorts of blind boxes and bags (to which he'd mutter aloud "Sod off Marc this is my date.").

It took you softly convincing him that you could both get two from the same series and have matching ones instead, which he was absolutely ecstatic about, to stop him buying 10. Steven was always a romantic at heart, and had to hold back from matching outfits with you daily.

Steven picked out a Yoki series, a cute little bat featuring different landmarks and World Wonders. It was the Pyramid one that caught his eye, and he couldn't pass up any chance to have a matching little Egyptian figure with you.

Heartbreakingly, no Egyptian figure appeared for either of you. After Steven excitedly popped the box open and tore into the silver baggy, a little red and golden bat sat against the Great Wall of China.

"Just my luck, eh?" He pouted, but the longer he rubbed his thumb over the teeny golden nose and stared at the little stars in the bat's eyes, Steven found himself endeared.

You'd already popped open your box by the time Steven had went through a few stages of grief and presented a blue bat snug in a fluffy hood, hugged by a penguin.

"Oh your one is dead cute! That's adorable. Think they'd make a good couple too?" A toothy grin broke over him as he nudged you playfully, making his little figure give yours a kiss on the head.

"So, I take it you're a fan of the blind boxes then?" You ask with a smile as Steven continues to play with the figure in his palm.

"Absolutely! In-fact, I think we need to do this more often, make a little habit of this date, eh? Make a little collection of wee couples, next time we should do one of those sanrio ones you like!"

Only a month later, Steven's bookcases became a neighbourhood of little couples of woodland creatures, miniature Egyptian deities and sanrio characters. And each morning, Steven always kissed your little figures on the head.

[bg-brainrot]

The Smut Peddlers of Sharess' Caress (Astarion x Tav)

In honor of spontaneously deciding to add a part 2 to this silly little fic, posting part 1 on tumblr.

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: The group finds smut about you (Tav) and Astarion. Hijinks ensue.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Humor, lots of innuendos, shadowheart loves smut, karlach doesnt read but will make an exception for this, there is no smut, nothing against smut we love smut in this house

Word count: ~2.5k

Your group is in Wyrm’s Crossing on this bright Baldurian day. You originally were just planning on returning various parts of a certain clown to the circus, but on your way back to the Lower City you get waylaid easily and find yourselves in Sharess' Caress. Everyone is used to your aimless wandering at this point, so Astarion, Karlach, and Shadowheart follow in tow without question.

While you have no strict purpose in visiting, you do want to check-in with Mamzell Amira to make sure that no one has been troubling her since you dealt with her missing girl. The brothel seems unchanged from the last time you visited, and you walk up to its proprietor with a wave.

“Why if it isn’t the hero with a penchant for whips,” she smiles at you warmly. “What can I do for you? Anyone I can get for you, or are you here for the latest erotic verse? I thought you might find it quite… scintillating.”

You shrug off her suggestions, “Nothing in particular, just wanted to make sure no one was bothering you after that assassin.” 

“Oh, we’ve been doing just peachy, thanks to you,” she says. “Though I hear you never took me up on your boon, the Drow twins have been awfully upset about it.”

Chancing a brief glance at Astarion, you find him looking surprisingly unconcerned at the mention of the Drow twins. He had been uncomfortable before, which is all you had needed to hear to put an end to that conversation. “Yes, thank you so much for your generosity, but I haven’t found myself in need of your services,” you reply, remaining light in your tone.

“It certainly seems like it,” she purrs, and you’re not sure what to make of her comment before she continues. “Well, I hate feeling indebted to anyone. What do you say you look through the shelves of our erotic literature and pick some out, free of charge. You may even find some inspiration.” She winks at you conspiratorially, as if Astarion isn’t watching the entire conversation unfold.

Karlach giggles behind you and whispers, ”Oooo, I might actually pick up reading if it’s that inspirational.”

You clear your throat a bit and say, “I’ll take a look. I wouldn’t want to make you indebted to us.” 

Mamzell Amira points you in the direction of the bookshelves, and your group files off toward them. Astarion is giving you a sidelong look as he says, “You know, if you wanted to take her up on the Drow twins, I could be persuaded.”

You scoff. “I don’t want to persuade you to do anything. Besides, what if she’s right? Don’t you want to see what creative ideas these smut peddlers have thought up?”

He seems a bit relieved to hear you say that, but his tone remains offended, “Excuse me, are you critiquing my skills as a lover? From the noises you make, I don’t think you’re allowed to–”

“For the love of the Moonmaiden, Astarion, you know we can hear you?” Shadowheart has already reached the shelves and takes a moment away from perusing to glare at the vampire.

“Of course I know you can hear me,” he says with a smirk. “Just as well as you can hear my dearest—”

“Astarion,” you give him a warning look. “Look through the smut like the rest of us or get out.”

Your love gives you an exaggerated pout before saying, “Fine. I don’t need books to teach me what I know. If you need me, I’ll be getting a drink.” You watch him skulk off, finding his jealousy over the potential skill of fictional lovers quite endearing.

Finally, you turn your attention to the bookshelves Mamzell had indicated. Karlach and Shadowheart are already heavily invested, rifling through stacks of books with ornate fonts and passionate covers.

One book in particular seems to be front and center, perhaps a new title or a bestseller. You pick it up and look down at the cover more closely.

The title reads “Love at First Knife: A Roguish Tale of Blood and Lust” in a flowing script. On the cover you see two individuals, one of whom, a silver-haired man with pointed ears and ruby-red eyes, is holding a knife to the others’ throat. The other figure is gazing lovingly into the firsts’ eyes, their hands grasping at his bare chest.

“Gods below,” you whisper, once you’ve comprehended what’s in your hands. “Shadowheart, Karlach, look what I found.”

Both women walk over to you, peering over each of your shoulders. “What’s that?” Shadowheart asks, not quite registering the vague familiarity of the two figures on the cover.

You point to the silver-haired, pale elf and say, “Does that look like anyone you know?”

“It’s not!” Karlach gasps. “Is that supposed to be… Astarion?”

Based on the crude facsimile of your own face yearning for him and the title, you are fairly certain it is. “And I think that’s supposed to be me,” you point out, dumbfounded at the novel in your hands. “How is this possible?”

“Well, the smut peddlers put out quite a lot of writing, they can write an entire book in a matter of days.” After receiving a questioning look from you, she adds, “From what I hear. I wouldn’t know.” She’s blushing from the tips of her ears down to her neck, and you suspect that you may find a surprise stash of erotic books near her bed at the Elfsong if you look close enough. 

Karlach claps Shadowheart on the shoulder. “Nothing to be ashamed of knowing. Just don’t hold back on me, alright?”

Shadowheart shakes her head lightly, “Regardless, we’ve been in the city for a few weeks and we haven’t exactly been subtle about it. I’m sure you’ve attracted plenty of attention.”

She’s not wrong– your entire group has had some very public confrontations, and several key figures of the city were aware of your presence. Plus there was an entire article in the Baldur's Mouth Gazette about your group’s accomplishments.

“Fair,” you admit. “But how did they know about Astarion?” You touch the cover carefully, as if expecting the book to combust in your hands.

“Well, aside from his loud proclamations of your love,” Shadowheart rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t know. Maybe it was Mamzell Amira herself, she did mention you’d like the newest erotic verse.”

“Please tell me you’re going to read it,” Karlach says, barely containing her excitement. “If you don’t, I will.”

You tut at her. “If anyone here gets to read about my and Astarion’s passionate love making, it will be me.”

“Oh just you and the hundreds of others who have probably already picked up a copy,” Shadowheart adds, unhelpfully.

Despite that, you don’t feel mortified. Really, you just feel a burning sense of curiosity. You gently thumb the cover, hesitating to turn the page. “What if it’s terrible?”

“It probably will be,” Shadowheart says, matter-of-factly. “That’s not why you read it though.”

You flip to the first page and start skimming. “Sweet hells, his name is Arstaron.”

“That’s amazing,” Karlach’s face bends down to read too. “Did that just say ‘brooding curls’? Do his curls brood?”

Shadowheart is reading along as well, “There’s an entire page dedicated to describing his abs. Are they really this… sculpted?”

You shake your head. “They’re lovely, but I don’t think I could ‘grill a set of gnoll ribs over them’ like it says.”

“Enough descriptors, skip ahead to the good bits,” Karlach prods at your hand, begging you to hurry up.

You skip ahead a few dozen pages and stop when you spot the words ‘passionate thrusts.’ “Here we go…”

The three of you silently read for a moment before Karlach breaks the silence. “Oh my, soldier, how did I never consider how flexible you both are.”

Your face reddens, as you’re suddenly reminded that your friends are now vividly imagining you and Astarion vigorously making love. “Let’s, uh, go back to the descriptor bits.”

A few minutes later, you’re reading down a passage describing his ‘member’ and the laughter that rumbles out of Karlach might bring down the entire brothel. It’s certainly loud enough to bring the attention of the roguish lover being described.

“What do we have here?” Astarion stalks over, clearly sensing that the excited bustle might be worth a laugh. You hunch over the book, protectively. “My dear, are you hiding something from me?”

You quickly pass off the book to Karlach, quickly responding with, “I would never.”

“Love, you know you don’t need to hide anything from me,” he says, smoothly. 

Karlach is quick to follow that with a snort, “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what Arstaron says when he takes off his lover’s clothes!”

“Arstaron?” He quirks an eyebrow at you in question and you reluctantly take the book back from Karlach to hand to him.

“Apparently,” you start. “You and I are the subjects of the latest erotic novel, courtesy of Sharess' Caress.”

Looking down at the cover, Astarion seems dumbfounded. “Is that supposed to be… me?”

You nod, reluctantly. You had gotten him a statue and a painting commissioned, but he still hasn’t seen himself often and you wouldn’t consider this the best representation. “They definitely took some, well a lot, of creative liberties.”

He looks down at it more carefully, amusement coloring his face. “I quite like what they did with your face, the longing is lovely.”

“That’s quite enough of that,” you say, reaching for the book. 

Astarion holds it just out of your reach and says, “No, no, we’ve earned a reward for helping the fine proprietor of this establishment. I want this to be my reward.”

“What,” you say, incredulously. “You wouldn’t read it. You said you don’t like smut.”

“I never said that.” He starts flipping through the pages of the book. “I just said I know more than these novels. I still do, mind you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not tempted by the mention of your ‘trembling lips’ as it says.”

“Wait, how many copies are there?” Karlach is back at the shelf. “Let’s read it together!”

You balk at the idea of your lovelife becoming the team’s book club. But you’re very much resigned to the idea that someone in your group is walking out with this book. “No, no, one copy is more than enough. Besides, we don’t want to take advantage of Mamzell’s generosity.”

“I don’t much like to share, love. Best get a few copies,” Astarion says, already adopting his reading stance as he flips back to the first page.

“Ugh, fine. Karlach, you and Shadowheart share one. I’ll share with Astarion.” You put up a finger. “Only on the condition that we tell no one else.”

A small huff leaves Karlach’s mouth. “Really? Really really?” Karlach pleads. “Maybe just one? I know Jaheira would get a kick outta this.”

You respect Jaheira so deeply, the idea of her reading of your wanton pleasures fills you with dread. “Please not Jaheira,” you whisper.

“Be careful, dear,” Astarion mumbles, his nose buried into the book. “You keep whispering her name like that, the next edition will feature a second silver-haired companion with pointy ears.”

His words give you a creeping paranoia and you look around, as if the smut peddlers are watching you at this very moment. “Okay, grab your books, let’s get out of here.”

“So soon?” Karlach says, nabbing a second copy of Love at First Knife before you can change your mind.

“Yes, we’re probably disturbing the clientele,” you say, waving away her disappointment. “Shadowheart?”

You realize that she’s already twenty pages into Love at First Knife and has barely registered your conversation. “Oh, yes? Are we leaving?”

“I work with a group of lecherous fools,” you mutter, grabbing her and Astarion by the sleeves. “Come on.”

You wave to Mamzell Amira on the way out, “Thank you for the books!”

She yells after you, “Be sure to return soon, we’re already hard at work on volume two!”

Shadowheart pauses her reading to perk up. “Oh, we’d best make a trip back then. This is surprisingly well-done.” She mumbles, half-heartedly, “Not that I would know.”

“No, no, you’re right,” Astarion says from your other side. “I quite like the way they describe my artistry. Take a look, dear.”

He shoves the book back into your face for a passage that reads, ‘his motions are as fluid as the waves of a water elemental’ and you swat the book out of the way. “If you start moving like that, I think I’m more likely to scream in horror.”

You walk along in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, as your three companions read. Then you spot Karlach behind you, fanning herself with her copy of the book. She meets your questioning look with a chuckle, “I thought I was already too hot to handle, but I think I’ll need to cool down after reading the climax of that book.”

“How did you already get there?” Shadowheart gasps, looking up.

“I skipped to the good bits!” Karlach replies easily. “And let me tell you, they were good.”

You facepalm momentarily before looking between your fingers at Astarion. He seems remarkably enthralled by the book, and suddenly you’re worried. Oh no, what if I’m a better fictional lover than a real lover. Distantly, you hear Shadowheart and Karlach discussing the novel, but your attention is focused entirely on the man’s eyes, reading back and forth as you walk.

Sensing your gaze, the vampire finally looks up and smiles pleasantly. He closes the book and with his free hand reaches for yours. “My love, please, and I cannot stress this enough, do not take inspiration from this book.”

“What? Why not?” You ask, confused. “Karlach just said it was amazing?”

“Yes, well,” he leans into you. “I think doing somersaults into each other's arms might be more likely to result in a broken rib than pleasurable exploration.”

You give a surprised laugh, leaning back into him, “Are you doubting my expertise as a lover now?”

“Not at all, my dear,” he says, rubbing his thumb along the outside of your hand gently. “You are so very perfect. Which is why I wouldn’t want you to take too much from this poorly written version of you. Reality is far better than fiction in this case.”

Your heart swells at the words, though you can’t help but ask your next question. “So no chance of acrobatics after dark?”

Astarion takes a glance at your companions, and sees they’re still in a heated debate about the novel. With words meant only for you, he whispers into your ear. “Don’t you worry, there are plenty of other ways we can make use of our flexibility.”

With his breath tickling your skin, a few peppered kisses along your neck, and a promise of some time alone together, you make your way back to the Elfsong Tavern with a skip in your step. You wonder if the smut peddlers of Sharess' Caress know how deeply you care for this man, or how little they got right about all of the parts of him that matter.

Part 2 here!

[mxigo]

soul sick | part 2

SERIES SYNOPSIS: It’s hard enough watching the male that holds your heart pine for another woman, one that is the definition of beauty and grace, but to watch him fall for another yet again after you feel the mating bond snap into place is its own hell. A hell that makes you dangerously ill.

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS: lucien pays you a visit to ask a favor, and things come to a head with azriel

WARNINGS: angst, swearing, graphic descriptions of vomiting

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: FINALLY. oh my god i finally figured it out and was able get the plot done and chugged through the angst. as usual, please let me know if there are any errors. enjoy!

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MINORS & AGE-LESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. YOUR AGE MUST BE SOMEWHERE IN YOUR BIO OR YOUR BYF.

Your mood improved ten-fold after having lunch with Cassian and Mor. They did everything they could to get you to forget your miserable night, and they did for the most part. Although, they caught you staring off into space once or twice, and they knew you were trying to understand where you went wrong with your relationship with the Spymaster.

The remainder of the walk consisted of the three of you talking about senseless things until they each give you a hug before they leave, Mor winnowing out of the street with a pop.

When you walk through the door, you can’t help but sigh, letting the rest of the tension fall off your shoulders. Blessed relief floods through you as you shuck your shoes off in your room near the wardrobe’s door, pushing past clothes to find a sleep set to wear.

You throw your hair up out of your face, padding into your bathroom to wash your face of the little makeup you did wear today. It doesn’t matter that the sun had just set behind the horizon. Once your pajamas were on and you took off your face, you were not stepping foot outside again today, and you planned on shutting yourself in your study to continue your work for the priestesses.

While you were not a priestess, you feel at home in the library in the House of Wind, and you loved helping them with rewriting and translating anything new or old for them. Before you had friends of your own, you had books and the stories that they told. And although you have made some friends throughout your life, your love for books has never waned.

In the kitchen, you pour yourself a glass of rosé before making your way to your study, letting the door close behind you with a soft snick. The entire room is lined with shelves upon shelves of books of just about every genre of fiction and nonfiction, organized carefully so that you know where every book was right off the top of your head. Cassian likes to poke fun at you and call you anal, but it literally drives you crazy if a book is put back in the wrong spot and then you can’t find it the next time you need it.

The dark mahogany shelves exude warmth throughout the room, pairing perfectly with the desk of the same material, gifted to you from Rhys when you bought the townhouse. This place is your safe place and has a perfect view of the dazzling lights of Velaris at night through the double glass doors leading to a balcony.

The hardwood floors are cool beneath your feet as you walk over to the desk, sending chills up your spine. You grab a blanket from the back of the couch, wrapping it around your shoulders before settling into the comfortable chair. The stack of books that you need to work on is tall, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The first book is thousands of years old and seems to be a second edition one as well. The spine is nearly falling apart, holding together by sheer will alone, like merely touching it could make it disintegrate into dust. Dust and dirt is caked into the scratches and grooves of the cover, but you can still make out the title. Orys: Prythian’s Fourth High Lord of the Night Court. A smile tugs at your lips. You’re almost excited to read about one of Rhysand’s distant relatives.

A sharp knock at your door interrupts you, pulling an annoyed sigh from you. You grab a sweater to throw on before you walk down the hall to the door, praying that it’s not Azriel. You just don’t have the strength to talk to him about last night just yet.

But you’re surprised to see Lucien at your door instead of the shadowsinger.

“Lucien? To what do I owe the pleasure,” you ask, completely taken aback.

He is noticeably distraught, his hair looking like it needs to be washed along with forming dark circles under his eyes. He looks like he has not had a good sleep in a few nights.

“I—I need some help.”

For a moment, you are speechless. There could only be one thing that he would need help with, and you are a bit afraid to confront it.

“I just opened a bottle of rosé from my favorite winery on the Sidra. Would you like a glass while we talk,” you try, earning a nod from the lordling in response.

You stand back, opening the door wider for him to step into your home, suddenly self-conscious about how you are dressed in the presence of a male that you hardly know. You wrap your sweater around you a little bit tighter at the realization.

Lucien follows you into the kitchen where you left the bottle, telling him to get comfortable while you go to retrieve your glass where you left it on your desk. When you return, Lucien is staring off at the table, a pained expression shrouding his face. His hands are curled around each other, supporting his head as they rest under his chin. Taking a deep breath, you walk over to the counter where the bottle sits and pour a generous glass for your guest before settling across from him, tucking a leg under yourself.

Neither of you speak first, and you wait so Lucien has the time to gather his thoughts and think about what he might say. After a moment, he finally unfurls his hands to rest them in his lap.

“I fear that I may be losing my mate to the shadowsinger.”

Oh dear gods. Your heart aches for the male in front of you, suddenly understanding his pain, and feeling your own at the same time. You wet your lips, shifting as you try to come up with something to say, but you suddenly feel sick, and your heart is beating too loud to hear anything.

“Could it be possible that their relationship is just platonic,” you ask, your voice airy.

You take a long draw from your glass, watching as Lucien shakes his head, finally looking up at you, and his golden eyes find your own.

“No. I catch glimpses of her emotions and feelings occasionally, especially when they’re together. It’s not platonic.”

Your eyes fall shut, attempting not to panic at the thought that Azriel might share the same feelings for the Archeron sister.

“I’m sorry this is happening. I can’t imagine the pain that you might be feeling.”

“But I think you can.” Your eyes snap open, freezing on him.

“What?”

“You have feelings for Azriel, do you not?” His straightforwardness makes your mouth drop open.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You are quite obvious about it. It’s puzzling that he hasn’t caught on yet,” Lucien says, leaning back in the chair and taking a sip from his glass.

Your face burns, undoubtedly red. This time, you take a gulp of the wine.

“I’m hoping because of it, you can try to persuade him to turn his efforts elsewhere, perhaps yourself.”

“Lucien, I understand you are upset, and rightfully so, but I think you should talk to Elain, not me.” You shake your head, unbelieving of what he is asking of you.

“Then try to talk to Azriel and explain what he is doing, even if he doesn’t realize it,” he fights, his desperation seeping through. “He is taking what is supposed to be my moments with her.”

Neither of you speak, the tension having peaked.

“I’m sorry, that was a bit much,” he whispers, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s ok. I’ll try to talk to him the next time I see him. Although, we’re not really on good terms right now.”

“For the same reason?” You nod.

“Hm. Well, thank you for listening to me, but I should get going. Mother knows that Rhysand will start to wonder where I slinked off to.” He stands, knocking back the rest of the rosé. “Thank you for the drink. You have lovely taste,” he adds with a smile, which you return.

“You’re welcome, Lucien. My door is open whenever you need me.”

He nods once before winnowing out of the house, leaving you to think about his proposal.

Just the very thought of talking to Azriel about relationship with Elain makes your stomach roll, and there is a very good chance that Azriel won’t take your advice the right way either. Historically, he is not one for getting over someone that he cannot have.

A knock from behind you makes you jump, nearly screaming when you see a shadowed figure outside your home, but you sigh when you see a pair of great leathery wings. Your heart thunders in your ears as you try to decide whether to go out and talk to him or ignore him and send him away. You decide on the former.

Taking a blanket from the living room, you walk out the door and onto the patio, allowing yourself to lean against the wall. The night has quickly turned brisk, a sharp wind ripping through the balcony, and you pull your blanket tighter. It’s silent for a moment, waiting for him to speak first.

He is dressed casually tonight, the swirls of his tattoos spilling from underneath the hem of his short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of pants loose around his thighs. Not that you’re looking.

But as you look to meet his eyes, you blink in surprise at their seriousness, staring at you with a look that you can only describe as distraught.

“Why was Lucien here?”

You blink again, not quite sure of what you heard.

“Excuse me?”

“Why did Lucien come to you at this time of day?”

“What? Can a friend not come for a visit?” you ask defensively, crossing your arms.

“We both know that he’s not a friend, Y/N. There’s a reason that he came here, and I need to know what it was.”

You stare at him, mouth agape in disbelief. Is this really happening right now?

“He came to me for help.”

“Help for what?”

You take a breath. “Az, I think you should take a step back from Elain for a while.”

His face screws up instantly, offended by what you have said.

“Is that what he came here for? Because he’s jealous?”

“Azriel, think about what you are doing. Regardless of what the two of you think, there is a reason they are mates.”

A feeling of unease is palpable from him as he switches his weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“You know that Rhys’ parents were mates and look how that turned out.”

“But Lucien is not Rhys’ father, Az. He is so far from that, or Feyre wouldn’t have brought her with him to Velaris. He is a good male, and you are actively standing in the way of their relationship.”

Azriel’s mouth is agape, at a loss for words, but he quickly turns to gather himself.

“I’m just trying to help her assimilate into our life, Y/N. She lost a lot when she was Made, and I’m helping her understand that there’s a whole new world that she can explore now.”

A weightless feeling begins to overshadow you, not believing the words that are coming out of his mouth.

“That is Feyre’s job as her sister to do that. She is also mated to someone that happens to be living with us and is dying to get to know her, Az, and you’re taking that away from him and stealing those moments that are meant for him for yourself.”

Azriel scoffs, his gaze sour.

“A mate that had a hand in having her kidnapped from her home. Of course she doesn’t want anything to do with him, Y/N, and she doesn’t have to.”

Silence stretches between the both of you as you allow the gravity of his words sink in, a cold terror gripping you.

With a blank face, you ask, “what do you mean by that?”

He just shakes his head, letting his wings unfurl. In a desperate attempt to get him to stay, you grab his hand, and your eyes meet once again. Then, suddenly, you feel it. You feel the bond snap into place as your soul realizes that male in front of you is your mate, and your heart breaks for the second time tonight. Your eyes go wide, breath catching in your throat as your skin erupts into chills. Hope fills you as you wait for any recognition from him, but there’s nothing, only his face screwing up.

He shrugs your hand off, just as you did to him. Your heart is thundering in your ears, and you struggle to figure out what to do next over the onslaught of emotions, both yours and glimpses of Azriel’s.

“Az, wait—”

“I love her, Y/N.”

Everything goes numb, your hearing cutting out. There is no possible way you heard him right. He can’t be in love with her because he’s your mate, it can’t be right.

You must look pitiful, staring unbelieving at him, waiting for him to say something different, but he only looks at you.

“I’m sorry,” he says before launching off of the patio and into the sky, disappearing into a black spec in the night, leaving you alone to unravel the fresh bond that will never be returned.

†

Sleep evaded you the entire night, having left you to your thoughts and to relive how your mate essentially rejected you without actually knowing what he was doing. All because you didn’t have the guts to tell him how you felt, and now he is no longer yours in any sense of the word. You had centuries to tell him but waited too long, and he took the opportunity that opened for him to have someone of his own, despite her already having a mate.

A headache sprung up as well, bursting right behind your eyes, throbbing with intensity. You haven’t had a headache spring up like this since before Rhys was Under the Mountain, but the stress of the past few days could definitely have caused it, especially from last night. The morning brings no relief, as you remain curled up in bed with the blinds pulled shut to prevent the harsh light from attacking your eyes. You managed to make yourself a cup of tea to sit on your bedside to drink, but you are so exhausted that you have not been able to muster the strength to sit up and drink it.

A groan slips from you as you roll over to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but as you do, your stomach turns, and your mouth suddenly fills with saliva. Eyes snapping open, you scramble up from your bed, bolting to the bathroom to make it to the toilet just in time for your stomach to reject everything that was in it. You grip onto the cool porcelain, choking on the painful onslaught. The rejection is so strong that after each contraction, you sag against the seat, heaving. Even after there is nothing left to come up, your body keeps rejecting, causing you to gag and cough until you are gasping for air like a fish out of water. After an eternity, your stomach finally lets you rest, allowing you to sag to the floor, sighing against the cool tile upon your flushed cheek.

This continues the entire day, waking for bouts of dry heaving until tears leak from your eyes, and your chin trembles as you fight back a sob. You have no clue as to what time it could be, surely deep into the day, but you are confined to the bathroom in fear that your stomach will revolt again. You finally submit to whatever has a hold of you, deciding that you will sleep in the bathroom, you carefully pull your duvet from your bed to drag it into the bathroom to have some kind of comfort on the hard tile floor. Finally, sleep peacefully takes you.

†

A soft touch pulls you from your dreamless sleep, your eyes peeling open to look blearily at whoever is kneeling in front of you. The headache persists, and the light causes you to clamp your eyes shut again, hissing at the light.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Cassian’s voice whispers in your ear. You nod but don’t open your eyes again.

“Rhys has been sending you notes all day inviting you to dinner, but you never answered them. Have you been here all day?” Another nod. “What has you so messed up, sweetheart?”

“I dunno. Just woke up like this. Can’t stop throwing up.” Your voice is scratchy from the abuse it has suffered, and it hurts to swallow. “Just put me in bed and set a bucket next to it. I wanna sleep.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the House?”

“No, no House. I’ll sleep it off. It’ll be fine, just stressed out,” you insist, still not opening your eyes.

Despite his better judgment, Cassian carries you back to bed, tucking you in and replacing your cup of tea with a glass of water and brings the bucket that you wanted. You haven’t moved from how he laid you in bed, and his eyebrows furrow in concern. It’s not often that fae get sick, especially with whatever you have.

He kneels next to the side of the bed you are on, letting a hand run itself over your head.

“I’m going to get going. If we don’t hear from you in a few hours, I’m bringing you to the House and we’ll get Madja. Do you understand?” Yet another nod.

Cassian sighs, registering that you have a slight fever. He stands up, leaning over to tuck you in before he leaves. With a last once over of your room and leaving a scrap of paper and a quill on your bedside, Cassian leaves.

He still doesn’t feel right about leaving you at your home, but he will be going back if you don’t write back within a few hours to check on you.

Everyone has moved to the sitting room by the time he gets back, each with a drink in hand. He notes that Elain is sitting in a chair next to Azriel but refrains from saying something. He settles into a seat next to Rhys, and Feyre notices that Cassian is back, but without her friend in tow.

“Did you see her?”

“Mhmm. She’s sick. Found her asleep on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet, all wrapped up in her sheets. She refused to be brought here, so I told her I would be back if we didn’t hear from her.”

“Oh Mother. We just saw her yesterday, Cas. How could she have gotten sick so quick?” Mor asks, face warped with concern as she leans forward.

“She said it’s from stress, but I don’t know how stress could make her throw up so much that she had to sleep on the bathroom floor,” he sighs.

Across the room, the Spymaster listens intently to Cassian’s words, his heart dropping as he realizes that he is the “stress” that has physically manifested as a sickness.

TAGLIST: @positivewitch @brekkershadowsinger @baebeepeach @toobsessedsstuff @lucyysthings @marigold-morelli

[storyofmychoices]

Hidden Romance

[Trystan Thorne x Lilah Rose Masterlist]

Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x Lilah Rose (F!MC)

Book: Crimes of Passion

Word Count: ~800

Rating/Warning: Mostly teen, but bc of one line mature to be safe.

Prompt: @choicesmonthlychallenge: rainy day; @choicesficwriterscreations; drabble request by nonny

A/N: It's been such a long time since I've written these two that I feel like I didn't get it quite right, but I hope it's still enjoyable.

Synopsis: Lilah makes an interesting discovery at Trystan's apartment.

Her fingers grazed over the smooth silk fabric of his grey button-down shirt that had pooled on the floor from where she had tossed it the night before. A smile tugged on the corner of her lips as the events of the previous night flickered back into her thoughts. Yet, the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain on the penthouse windows and the aroma of freshly brewing coffee kept her from lingering too long in what was. 

She pulled the luxurious fabric over her arms, bringing the collar to her nose. Inhaling his familiar scent, her smile widened despite her attempts to temper it. Deftly, she slipped three buttons through their respective holes, one after another, letting his scent wrap around her.

Her bare feet padded through his apartment, stopping in front of a large ornate bookshelf. Her fingertips danced gently over the cool spines of the many books lining its shelves. Each row was arranged neatly, every book in its place. 

She marveled at the number of titles on display, some she recognized, some she didn't, others in a language she couldn't read—Drakovian, she imagined, but she couldn't be sure that was the only language included.

She paused over a section of philosophical texts. Her brow arched as she curiously pulled one from its place on the shelf, marveling at the ornate gold filigree on its cover. She half expected the book to be unread, but the pages were worn, and she recognized his handwriting from the notes in the margins. She was about to slide it back into the open spot on the shelf when something else caught her eye. 

She removed a few more books from the shelf only to discover a series of well-worn, soft-cover romance novels hidden behind the books she had removed. A smirk tugged on her lips as she pulled the books forward, revealing a series of increasingly steamy covers with melodramatic titles.

"I hope this is to your satisf—" his voice trailed away as he found her still looking over his secret collection of books. 

"What a diverse reading collection you have here." She held one up with a particularly handsome fireman on the cover, his taut chest dripping with sweat. "I didn't know you were such a literary connoisseur." 

"You know what they say," he began, placing the tray of coffee and breakfast treats on his end table. "Variety is the spice of life, and I do life so well."

In a few long strides, he stood before her, his loosely tied robe left little for her mind to wander. "They're also a masterclass in—" his lips drew into a devilish smirk, his fingertips curling under her chin, lifting it toward him. "—human anatomy. There's nothing quite like it."

Her gaze remained unphased, not swayed by the mischievous glint in his eyes. "I take it you've never heard of Grey's Anatomy, the book, not the series?"

"Too many illustrations for my taste. I prefer the written word," he attempted to defend, his voice smooth as his thumb brushed over her lip.

"Uh-huh..." Lilah frowned, her head tipping to the side questioningly. She took a step back, picking up a book and opening a page at random. "Let's see... ah, here we go, an excellent example of said description of human anatomy," she mocked before continuing with reading a line from the text. "...he thrust his swollen spear into the glistening portal of my womanhood, a rhythm so seductive our bodies danced as one until love's sweet lava overflowed, blinding us in its brilliance." 

Trystan stifled a chuckle at her tone and the choice of passage.  "What a shining example of American literature, don't you think? I particularly enjoy the metaphors the author uses."

"You mean euphemisms."

"Still very descriptive!"

"Oh, absolutely," she nodded with a playful roll of her eyes. "Very enlightening. I'll have to add it to my reading list."

"See that you do," he encouraged. "Perhaps even borrow my copy."

"I think I'll pass." Lilah tossed the book back at him, sauntering away toward the delicious scent of the fresh coffee. "I will take that, though." 

With a delighted smirk, Trystan watched Lilah walk away from him, enjoying how the silk fabric from his shirt fell on her body. "If literary devices aren't your thing, I can certainly think of some hands-on anatomy studies we could engage in." 

She sipped the steamy beverage, letting the coffee warm through her as she picked up her phone, reading the new message on the screen. "We've got a case. With any luck, there will be a body for you to—um—assist Ruby with... for your anatomy studies."

"That's not—"

But before he could finish his protest, she had disappeared into the ensuite bathroom, her clothes gathered in her arms. 

Thank you to the Nonny who sent the request. I had fun with this even if I'm not 100% happy with how it came out. I love the idea of Trystan reading trashy romance novels lol but as I wrote this, I also considered that Trystan wouldn't hide them but I was already half done. 🤷‍♀️

[bamdelune]

sickly dan heng x reader fluff drabble

notes: not proofread, just fluff in general, might be a little ooc dan heng because this is my first hsr work

A series of knocks echoed through the archive room where a sickly Dan Heng laid as a virus threw punches at his body.

The Nameless had begun an expedition on a new planet where a Stellaron had been found. This time the planet’s climate was not-so-pleasant (read: never-ending thunderstorms) and Dan Heng had initially warned you to bring an umbrella.

Did you listen?

Of course not!

“We’ll manage, love. I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

You thought you would be able to manage because the towns were filled with roofs anyway but little did you know that little could be done to avoid the harsh rain and thus, finding out that the thunderstorms continued inside the numerous establishments of the city.

That day, you were the subject of a handful of unamused stares of “I-told-you-so” from your boyfriend.

✦

Here you stood in front of his room with a tray in your hands, standing in a certain guilt. Lucky for you, your immune system had the balls to fight the cold that was creeping up on you whereas Dan Heng’s… not so much.

You slide the door open with your foot to create a space for your head to poke through.

“Hey, bud. You alright in there?” You ask sheepishly with an awkward chuckle.

With all the energy Dan Heng could muster, he shoots you a weak glare. If looks could kill, you might as well been buried way underground already by the time he makes eye contact with you. You sigh with a nod. “Right, right.” You then push the door open to give way for your body to come in.

You set the tray down on a free space on top of one of the shelves, praying to any entity above that it won’t drop as you tended to your boyfriend as it was halfway off the shelf.

“Sit up for me, please?” you say, kneeling down to his level on the floor, your hand finding a way to press on his back to support him. He grunts tiredly, shifting some of his weight onto your palm and sits upright. Dan Heng then leans against a shelf with a huff.

You shuffle over to where the tray was whilst on your knees and come back to Dan Heng’s side, placing the tray down on the free space on the floor.

“What’s that?” Dan Heng asks softly, prompting a soft sneeze from him right after. His face was mostly pale with pink blooming particularly on his nose. His voice was a subtly scratchy. You assume that he has a mild case of a sore throat as well from his cold.

You pick up a bowl, its evaporating steam following in a trail of movement. You gently spoon through the liquid to cool it down a little. “Porridge. Not the usual one you like though since Pom Pom said it apparently ran out so I had to manage.”

You catch an uncertain look on Dan Heng’s face and pout slightly, “Do you not trust my cooking?” You jest, feigning hurt.

“I trust that you wouldn’t want my reply on that, darling.” He coughs, turning his head to the side to avoid coughing in your direction. "In fact, I'm not sure I trust your judgement."

“You wound me."

He sends you another look,

"I'm sorry, I'll listen to you next time." You exhale in defeat.

“Hm.”

You scoop some of the porridge onto the spoon as you bring it to close to your lips, blowing on it gently before you move it near Dan Heng’s.

“Open,” you nudge the spoon slightly to prod his mouth open.

Dan Heng follows with no reluctance when he feels the metal of the spoon on his lips, gulping down the warm porridge down his throat.

You take the spoon out of his mouth and settle it in the bowl, before looking back at him with hopeful eyes. “Is it good?”

Dan Heng nods, sniffling his nose afterwards.

You feed him the porridge until it’s almost finished, setting the bowl on the tray again after it has cooled down.

“Himeko told you to drink this after eating.” You hand him a tablet of medicine packaged securely in a tin packaging. He examines the label before picking the area around the medicine with his nails to take it out. Your hands reach for the glass of water and wait for him to pop the tablet in his mouth before giving it to him.

Once he finishes drinking, he returns the glass to the tray and sighs with relief and slumps down back into the duvet covers. You bend over to tuck him in properly and place a gentle peck on his lips.

“Don’t do that, you’ll get sick.” He mutters with a pout before clearing his throat.

You chuckle quietly at your boyfriend’s words before placing another one on his cheeks.

“Trust me, I won’t. Now get some rest.” You say as you pick up the tray and dim the lights of the archive room when you leave.

Suffice to say you spoke too soon when you wake up two days later with the same cold, earning you another “I told you so” from Dan Heng. But despite his words, the man is eager to take care of you just as you did.

© bamdelune may 2023. do not repost or plagiarize any of my works, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

(masterlist)

[butterfly-writer]

thank you!! <3 i have an idea for a request, but dont feel forced to do it pls! hawks is my favorite character, and i was thinking:

a younger male reader (not like tiny child, but tween sort of?) who has a wing quirk, not as powerful as keigos because since readers little he cant really fly yet, he has lil baby wings. but hawks is his favorite hero and he looks up to him due to their quirks being similar, he also doesnt have a good home life so he runs away and bumps into the said hero. keigo feels kinda protective because of their quirk similarity and he can also sympathize to having a similar past, he comforts him/or maybe takes him with him? aghhh im bad at writing, i hope it mqde sense ^^"

TLDR: child male reader with wing quirk runs away from home due to bad conditions and keigo starts feeling really fatherly or protective, if not taking him home then at least letting him stay near and comforts him. i hope you have a lovely night/day <33

Two birds of a feather

Hawks x Teen!Male!Reader [PLATONIC]

Summary: A teen with wing quirk runs away from home due to bad conditions and a bird friend helps him out.

★☽A/N: Hawks is also my favorite character! Thank you so much for the request! I haven’t written anything different from the series request I got so this is a bit of a refresher! I have been reading this fanfic on wattpad named Green Smog and I can’t help but feel my writing is inferior compared to its writer’s 😭 but anyways.. ENJOYYY!!!

Contents: SMALL ANGST - FLUFF

⭒☆┈┈𓆩♡𓆪┈┈☆⭒

“Take one more step and you’re never coming back ever again!!” A mother yelled out in anger, her teen child stopping in his tracks. He said nothing but he turned and his cold stare gave his message.

He didn’t give a shit, he wanted out of that household and never came back. No one would want to live with a mother who only degrades you and makes you feel like a disgrace and with a drunk father who rarely comes to his work and even loses his jobs multiple times and never brings food to the table and spends it on booze.

With a final step, he was out the door and the mother yelled once more before slamming the door shut, causing neighbors from the apartment complex to worry but didn’t check. The teen just scoffed and held his duffle bag filled with clothes and other necessities and walked to the elevators.

Out the door, he breathed in the air of the city. He was free from that horrible household. He started his walk along the path, crossing a few roads. He didn’t know where he was going, maybe find a place to sleep? He did have a bit of money saved, but didn’t want to waste it on one night at some motel. His first plan was to get some food, maybe the convenience store has something to eat.

He walked for a good hour until he saw a 7-eleven and walked in. He scanned all over the shelves in each aisle and grabbed a few bottles of water and snacks. He was forever grateful that 7-eleven had those microwaves and hot food that you could buy. He bought a hotdog on a stick and ate that for lunch. He continued to walk the path but some people eyed him and his duffle bag. Some people thought he just got out of the gym but dismissed that thought because of how young he looked, while others thought that he just got kicked out or ran away from home which was true in both ways.

He somehow felt a sense of freedom. Free from his controlling mother, his drunken bully of a father. Like his wings are finally free to roam the sky. With a deep breath, he spread out his

wings and decided to take a fly across the city’s sky. His wings weren’t that big but they were enough to allow him to fly. He soared in the afternoon sky, feeling the wind pass him. He felt so free.

A red winged bird noticed from the side of his view, another fellow bird perhaps? He looked over to see the youngling who was flying with a duffle bag on his back (It has straps that can turn it into a backpack, a huge backpack) and it piqued his curiosity. He swung over to the side to have a chat with the winged boy.

“Hey! Seems like you’re a fellow bird, huh?” Hawks spoke up, trying to make a conversation with the boy. The boy was confused, who was he and why was he so interested in him? “Uhh, yeah?” The boy answered half-heartedly. Hawks just smiled and continued to chat with the boy. “So… What’s your name, kid?” he asked. The boy didn’t know whether he should trust the adult but he assured himself that it was just a name and that it wouldn’t harm him in any way. “Y/N.” He answered. Y/N didn’t want to tell his last name since the man could potentially drag him back to that hell of a household.

“Y/N, huh? Well, kid, shouldn’t you have an adult with you? You seem quite young.” Hawks asked, taking in Y/N’s appearance. He seemed too young to be out alone but some teens do go out alone but the boy had a duffle bag with him and it seemed quite full, unlike some duffle bags used for basketball or soccer practice.

The teen hesitated. His worries started to flood his mind. “You good?” Hawks’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Huh? Oh. Yeah, I’m good.” Y/N nodded formally. “Well, I should introduce myself. I’m Hawks.” The hero smiled. That name hit him, Hawks? As in the youngest hero, Hawks?! The youngest hero was talking to him! He couldn’t believe it. “Finally hit ya, huh?” Hawks chuckled. “Why don’t we land and chat?” Hawks asked. The teen thought about it for a while as they continued to fly across the city. He nodded, as if agreeing with himself and nodded at Hawks with a small smile. Hawks smiled back and flew down, making the boy follow him to a small cafe.

The cafe was nature themed, flowers decorated the establishment. “Hawks! How lovely seeing you again!” A waitress waved over to the hero who waved back. “C’mon kid.” The blonde called out to the H/C who was looking around. The boy couldn't shake off his fear from all of this. From practically getting kicked out willingly, to suddenly having lunch at a cafe with a hero, the upcoming hero no less! It felt somehow off for him and the hero noticed that from his expression.

“Kid, I ain’t going to do anything bad to you. I just thought a nice lunch might help ya.” The hero explained himself. Y/N just nodded, not really buying his explanation but it was better than no explanation.

“Alright, what can I get you two?” The waitress Keigo was talking to was now in front of the two, ready to take their orders on her little note pad with a pen in her hand. “I’ll have the fish and chips! But make-” “Make the fish a chicken, I know.” The waitress sighed. “You know it!” Hawks chuckled. “How about you, kid?” The waitress drew her attention from Hawks and onto the young boy. “Oh? Uhh, F/F?” The boy pointed to the food on the menu. “Got it, kid. Anything else?” She asked. “Just water for me.” The boy answered. The waitress nodded and walked away to pass their orders to the kitchen.

“So, kid.. Are you running away?” The boy was caught off guard by Hawks’s bluntness. “What? No.” The boy lied. “I can tell you’re lying.” The boy was confused. He could tell he was lying? Hawks pointed to Y/N’s chest, he looked down to see a red feather that was pressed against his chest. “Your heartbeat gives it away.” The boy sighed, admitting defeat.

Hawks continued to ask his questions. “Why are you running away?” He asked so calmly. “I didn’t exactly run away..” Y/N looked away nervously. “You got kicked out?” Y/N nodded. “I see..” That’s all the blonde said before the food arrived hot and fresh. Y/N could feel his mouth watering, he hadn’t had any good food in a long time! Even when he was still at home, the food was always either eggs or canned food so this was a nice change.

Y/N ate the food as if it was his last good meal which probably is true. Hawks couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy. He didn’t know what he felt bad for but he just felt- bad for him.

“You got anywhere to stay?” The hero asked. “No..” Y/N muttered quite softly. Great, and the kid had nowhere to stay. He was considering taking the boy in but the Hero Commission won’t allow him to do so. Unless..

“How about you stay with me, kid?” That statement caused the boy to choke on his food. “I’m sorry— What?!” The boy was quite vocal about the man’s shocking proposal. “Yeah, I can adopt you and take you in.” The winged hero smiled.

Y/N needed to think about this. I mean, the hero just suddenly brought this up. Wouldn’t this have complicated his hero career? Why would the hero suggest that? “Why?” The hero shrugged, “I need some company and I don’t mind raising a teen like you.” That might be the weirdest explanation anyone had, but the boy thought it through.

“Give me a few weeks to think.” The boy asked. The man nodded and they continued their meal peacefully with a few small conversations.

⭒☆𓆩♡𓆪☆⭒

~ Hawks have been non-stop visiting you. You don’t know how he keeps finding you! You have always moved to different spots to sleep, to take a break, etc. But he always ended up finding you!

~ He would fly down and sometimes even jumpscared you. He would just laugh it off and spend half of his day with you

~ Perhaps he was trying to spend more time with you for you to trust him. You couldn’t help but feel some sort of safety around him?

~ Since you were now kicked out/ran away, you were cautious of your surroundings. You always checked all of your stuff, making sure it’s all there. You even started to sell some things that no longer had meaning to you.

~ But when you were with Hawks, you felt a sense of comfort, safe, you felt that you could perhaps trust him.

~ He tries his best to spend his time with you, buying you snacks and water, ranting about his hero work, even playing cards with you! (You had pulled out the +2 too many times when playing UNO. The poor man was shocked.)

~ You could tell he really would like you to stay with him but you couldn’t.

~ You were 12 but you never went to school. You mainly taught yourself with things that mattered to you. You were both IQ and street smart. You knew to never trust a stranger, even when it’s a Pro Hero.

⭒☆𓆩♡𓆪☆⭒

“Oh my God, would you stop following me?!” He yelled furiously at the hero, people walking by noticed the outrage. “Woah, Kid! Alright, alright.” He held his hands up. “I get that you want to take me in, but seriously man, stop following me.” Y/N said.

“I’ll come to you when I’m ready, alright?” The hero nodded and proceeded to fly away, giving the boy some space.

There were some perks of being adopted by a hero. Money, good food, amazing clothing, and maybe even a better education. But every single benefit had its problems. If you were adopted by a hero, the hero would have to try their best not to bring you into the public view as their child. If villains knew that the hero had a child, you, they would try to kidnap you and take advantage of the hero’s heart.

From how much time the hero spends on him, he can tell that he really wants to take the boy in.

He sighed, “Here goes something..” He took out his phone and scrolled down and clicked on a contact that read “BIRD.” Hawks had given him his number after their lunch. He clicked on voice call. He heard ringing, his heart thumping out of nervousness. Hawks picked up and the boy could hear his voice, he seemed to be busy with something with his sidekicks.

“Alright, thank you for your hard work!” Hawks praised before turning his attention to the boy’s sudden voice call. “Hey, kid! Did you miss me that much?” A chuckle was heard from the other side of the phone. “Uhm, no- I’m just calling to answer that question of yours from a few weeks back..” The boy muttered out. Hawks took a deep breath, clearly nervous about the boy’s answer.

“I think, I can give it a try..” The boy answered, leaving the Winged Hero in absolute joy! The H/C haired could hear the excitement the hero had, distancing himself from his phone to insure that his ears won’t be damaged. “This is amazing news, kid! I’ll get the paperwork done tomorrow and then you’re officially my boy!” The hero said in joy, the boy couldn’t help but feel joyful that someone would be so happy to have him in their life.

⭒☆𓆩♡𓆪☆⭒

~ Hawks is an amazing dad! A lot better than your biological father.

~ He would always ask about your day.

~ Always taking you out for food. Even when you’re full, he would bring the rest to go and then you guys would eat it the next day or lunch or breakfast!

~ You are so glad you took up on the offer.

⭒☆𓆩♡𓆪☆⭒

4 years later, your dad became the number 3 hero and later became the number 2 hero! You couldn’t have been more proud of your dad. He took you out for lunch to celebrate his accomplishment of becoming the number 3 hero! You were 16 and decided to follow in his footsteps and got into Shiketsu! He was super proud of you and your hard work!

Together, you make the best Winged Duo.

⭒☆┈┈𓆩♡𓆪┈┈☆⭒

[sgiandubh]

Such unsmiling people

The comment that moved me the most after posting that August 10 diatribe came from a very special blogger, @myrthil23. I promised her a longer, thoughtful answer, so here it is.

I share with her way more than meets the eye and with a bit of deductive skills, you could easily place us very specifically on an European map. To be honest, I was surprised (and then absolutely thrilled, of course) to find someone like her hanging on in here. But this is not the only reason prompting a response - her comment made me think a lot about a couple of relevant things.

For those who loathe foraging for reblogs, here goes:

In the colorful Shipper family, the Eastern Europeans are (supposedly) the unsmiling ones. This is one of the stubborn clichés that informed the Western gaze, especially in Communist times. Unsmiling, foreboding and unfathomable people: I am not smiling, I am laughing while writing it, because if anything, Myrthil, @zeya-zg, a couple of others and I do share a superb ability to use bullshit-o-meters, an unsinkable sense of humor and a hefty dose of sarcasm. All of these are basic, compulsory street smarts if you want to survive, God knows how, a nuclear winter of sorts.

Imagine you grow up in a world with empty supermarket shelves but permanently sold-out concert halls, where trivial details such as cotton swabs, potato chips (crisps, heh), political parties or The Last Tango in Paris are virtually unknown. Imagine your family is either cautiously aligned to some public idiocy they loathe everyday at home, teaching you at the same time to never talk to strangers. Or even worse, a political pariah, for reasons that have everything to do with the way you sip your tea, as Ella Fitzgerald would say. The latter situation (mine) was something very much akin to a civil death. And you just knew you could never be, for imbecile but firm reasons, an architect, a lawyer or even an epidemiologist: jobs way too sensitive to entrust the enemies of the people (and their spawn) with.

What is left for you, then, when the view from your window, in 1982, is something not very different from this photograph:

(side note: these people are staying in line to buy 1 kilogram of sugar for each person, which was the monthly allowance fixed by law in my country, from 1980 to 1989; you could only buy those with Government-issued tickets, not unlike what happened in the UK during WWII or what you can see in series like The Handmaid's Tale)

When all is seemingly lost, you will still have, in no particular order: books. Music (including piano lessons). Sports. Each other (although that was overall more complicated than it seemed). Going to the opera and never taking off your winter coat inside, but enjoying every second of it. Impromptu dinners by candlelight during power outages ("wir machen ein bisschen Stimmung"/let's make a bit of atmosphere, grinned my aunt). Foreign languages (a must). Fits and giggles and jokes galore. And the ability to adapt to just about anything, anywhere.

When change finally reached us, many had the almost surreal opportunity to go West. Some came back, others didn't, simply because they chose to continue elsewhere their pursuit of happiness. And yes, Myrthil is right, that fabled West was always something to behold and measure up to. In my case, it was almost too easy, but then I consider myself really lucky: going to live in Paris, at 18, felt both as homecoming and being left alone (and with unlimited credit) in a candy store.

So, here we are. We may have discovered Sylvia Plath a bit late, but I think we are decently knowledgeable about Chaucer. We sometimes may sound Edwardian and if we do, you should probably blame C.E. Eckersley's Essential English (this is how that life-long affair started, for me). And if anything, we bring another, perhaps even more inquisitive, angle to these strange things we are dealing with daily, in here.

But for the love of Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, don't you ever dare tell us what to think and with whom to talk. Don't call us stupid. Don't call us liars. Historical reasons prompted a durable allergy to sanctimonious speech and yes (I can only speak for myself) I will always, always react. Because we do not deserve the arrogance of people who have no idea of how it really was to grow up somewhere in Eastern Europe during the Eighties. Oh, and something else, lest I forget: being pariahs never bothered us - we can cope.

Other than that, we should go along just fine. :)

PS: @claraisabelcampohermoso, you probably don't know how your gif made me smile. Nadia will always be Nadia: a humble, warm person with a terribly heartbreaking story.

[yarrystyleeza]

Arduous Solitude

"I used to want to be alone. Now that you're here—I don't want to be alone anymore. The solitude that I once wanted took no place in my heart ever since I had you."

[series masterlist / main masterlist]

Taglist: @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @bellaxgiornata @babygirlmurdock @1988-fiend @v4leoftears @galaxies-and-moons-and-cox @floral-charlie-cat

[curiosity almost killed the cat]

Word count: 1.7k!

Warnings/tags for this chapter: none!!! Talks of art, cats, and tea. Someone gets a burn scar!!! other than that—there's nothing.

You looked even more interesting this close.

You eyed him curiously with high eyebrows— waiting for him to speak. He cleared his throat, flashing a smile. "Welcome to the neighborhood," he states, his voice was gravely but it was warm, even soothing. Eerly soothing.

It wasn't really matching his face, he was handsome, you couldn't doubt that for a split second, but he was a bit perturbing. He had a weird aura, maybe off-putting too, but he looked nice. Very nice.

Stop that, you literally just met the man. You mentally shook your head.

"Thank you, mister..." you stopped, waiting for him to finish your sentence.

"Henry," he said, "my name is Henry," he smiled once again.

You nodded, "pleasure to meet you, Mister Henry."

You introduce yourself. "Such a lovely name," he says, and you feel the blood creeping up beneath your skin.

"I apologize—it seemed like you were having a lonely time," he says.

You shook your head, almost instantly, "no worries, you didn't bother."

Why did you say that? Why did you sound so eager and... desperate? In your head, you smacked yourself across the face.

"Oh, um--" he trailed off.

You gasped. "Oh, I'm very sorry-- please come in," you swing the door wider, allowing him to pass inside. He took off his dark fedota and wiped his shoes at the entrance mat. He wasn't this 6ft tall huge—but he was huge, with broad shoulders and a wide dorsum. You felt a little small next to him, maybe more than just a little.

You show him the way into your living room, moving your cozy blankets out of the way for him to sit on your sofa. He gently settled down, eyeing the interior of your house thoroughly. Did he like the decor? Wait--why would you even care? It's your house, not his.

"Sorry again, let me go grab something for you to drink, you must be freezing," you say, turning in your heels and walking straight to the kitchen. He called your name. It pinned you in place.

You never liked how your name sounded more than now.

"Don't bother bringing anything, I don't really need--"

You turned, shaking your head, "that would be very impolite of me, Mister Henry, now allow me to bring you some tea to warm you up."

He surrendered with a huff, "alright," he quietly said. You continued your trip to the kitchen and placed the teapot over the stove.

"Would you like chamomile tea? Hibiscus? Earl Grey? The regular?" you asked as you scavenged through the cupboard for other options.

"Whatever you have there," Henry politely answered.

"Alright, I think we're up for hibiscus."

He stood off his seat to closely inspect your bookshelves. The last residents of this home were an elderly couple, so there's a chance he learns something new about the world from your perspective.

You seemed to be a bookworm, there were dozens and dozens of books on your shelves. He noticed you had a shared interest with him, too; miniature artworks. You loved to collect them, but he loved making them.

He wondered if any of his many miniature works ever made their way to your hands, maybe passed by someone to you, or you received it as a gift, or thrifted it from some local antiques store.

But then he saw the very petite canvas of a peacock. He remembers that, he just doesn't quite remember when, but he surely knows he painted it more than 250 years ago.

"Oh, you seem like you like my collection?" you cringed at yourself. Since when were you this outgoing and social?

You placed the tray down. "I'm sorry, I was just--" he trailed off, turning to look your way with your little art piece in his hand.

You shook your head, "it's alright, I got this one in an auction three years ago for only fifteen hundred pounds! It should've costed way more than that to be honest, it dates back to the seventeen hundreds, as I assume," you were astonished by how talkative you are now. Maybe you were just too excited about your miniature collection.

But he admired how dedicated you were to track it back to its date of manufacturing, and you paid this much for it and still had the will to pay more.

He couldn't help but smile.

"What fascinated you about it?" the artist had to ask.

You shrugged, "well... I guess I like ancient things, specially art," a warmer smile split the pitch darkness of his beard, "the size is enough to amaze you, and the artist was so dedicated in painting the blue feathers, I love it when someone pours their soul into something, it creates something magnificent."

"Are you an artist?" he asked, you nodded, gesturing at the wall behind the sofa. He turned around, his back now facing you, but you could swear you heard him quietly gasp.

"You made these?" he turned to look at you, his brows shooting up his forehead. You hummed, he looked back at the pieces you hung on the wall, moved closer to them, he inspected them, touched them even.

You've never seen a man this mesmerized by your art. All of your previous partners usually plainly reacted to it, other times they never even batted an eye for it.

But him, Mister Henry, he was in awe, his tips were following the wild and free strokes of your brushes, they walked over the ups and downs of the layers, and sensed the pebbles of dry paint so delicately, his fingertips almost dancing over the canvas.

That stirred something in you.

"Are you an artist?" it was your turn to ask this question, he turned to face you, his fingertips still lingering on the canvas. Your eyes shifted between his and his tips, still amazed by the fact that he was interested in your art.

"You can say that," he shrugged and winked.

This, somehow, changed the flow direction of the chemicals of your brain. The lights flipped on inside your head. Your face turns red.

You had no idea what was going on with you, but this was the most attractive thing you've seen a guy doing in years.

Not only he's interested in art, but he's also an artist.

You had to distract yourself from looking into his vast eyes with this unlimited amount of admiration. "The--the tea!" you ripped your eyes off of him, looking at the tray placed on the coffee table.

He hadn't drank tea in decades and never truly minded it, but now he wanted to drink it with you, he felt he missed what it tastes.

He was almost to grab his cup, but something buzzed the skin of his hand, and that's when he noticed that the tray was made of silver.

He almost killed himself for a cup of tea.

You reached down and handed him the cup, he nodded, his face was paler than a sheet, but he smiled to distract himself from the fact that he almost died in a stranger's house... For a little cup of tea.

He felt stupid for this.

"Can I ask you a question, if you wouldn't mind?" he said after taking a sip of his drink. He sure missed that warm and earthy and sweet taste.

You nodded.

"You seem to look like a city girl, what brought you here to the suburbs, in a house near the woods?" Henry is obviously more curious now.

You shrugged, "I needed to be alone, to breathe, and this is what I found, my very own little witch house," he chuckled at your answer, and you couldn't lie, you loved that man's chuckle, you fell in love with it.

It wasn't just because it's been a while since you had a man in your life, but he had something so charming and elegant about him. His fancy clothing, his wizardly attitude, his very sweet but dignified features and, his eyes.

You really, really loved his eyes.

There was an odd reflection of fire in them that you couldn't explain, you didn't know if he was born this way or was it the fireplace behind you or is your mind playing tricks on you.

Marmalade yelled from upstairs, it made your heart drop in your stomach, tearing your train of thoughts apart and shaking your ground. Although you've had this flameball for years now, you never really got used to his sudden loud shrieks; they always took you off guard.

Henry's ears visibly stood up, he caught the scent of fur and canned food, and watched as the little noise machine waddled down the stairs.

"That's Marmalade," you had to say—as you pulled him up to your chest.

"Hey Lad," Henry says, smiles and waves at him.

"He loves to let me know he's present, sorry if he scared you," you lull Marmalade in your cradle-made arms.

Henry gutted a giggle and shook his head, "never mind, he's adorable."

However, Marmalade's ears went into airplane-mode, he pushed you in the chest, forcing you to let go of him and ran up the stairs once again. You were astounded by his act, you turn back to look at Henry, who stood silently with his eyebrows shooting high and his eyes fixed to the ground.

"I'm really sorry, I don't know what's going on with him, maybe it's because he just moved in--" you were explaining, and you don't even know why you were justifying a cat but you stood there and did it.

Henry shook his head, "it's alright I'm... I'm not very favored by most animals," he shrugged, "however, I think I should be going now, I must've kept you past your bedtime and maybe it's why your lad was grumpy," he put on his fedora and passed you.

You were a little startled by the shift of his demeanor, but you followed him to the front door.

He turned the doorknob then turned to look at you. Quietly, he said your name with a smile, "it was a pleasure to meet you."

But this wasn't the last thing you saw of the very peculiar Mister Henry.

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