#thanks for asking! evidently we cannot!

[qqueenofhades]

The university: /sends out an email bragging about how we have been reaffirmed in R1 status, meaning (supposedly) top-class research availability/quality and academic experience

Me: yes, but we were being told all morning yesterday that we need to be raising more money by cramming in as many students as possible, but No Salary Raises Or New Tenure Lines, Only More Money More Students!!

Me: Hmmm.

[fumifooms]

You’re the resident chilchuck expert, so I was wondering about it there’s any canon evidence that he did smoke or drink alcohol when the kids were younger. I always thought it was something he picked up due to the strain of long jobs, when the kids were already older, but you seem to think differently and I was wondering if there was anything in canon that made you think that way!

Now that you mention it I guess it’s true there’s no evidence he did. Smoking we literally only know he does at all because of one post-canon panel where he has a pipe, so no, maybe this stick-looking thing in the panel below too though, I’m not familiar with medieval blunts eh. We’ve only gotten one panel of him and his daughters interacting when he was younger so that’s not too insightful on that end, and every time we see him young and freckled it’s in a job context so again not really where we’d expect him to be drinking. The earliest proof (/heavy implication since we don’t see inside his cup I guess) is 3 years before canon when Laios hired him, where he’s at a bar, classily placed in front of all the bottles ✨

Yes alcohol is almost certainly a way through which he copes especially with stress, so if we go with the theory he started around when work got stressful, well… Chilchuck started working as a dungeon diver ~10 years ago so when he was ~19, making Mei, Fler and Puck ~6 and ~4 respectively, so from that draw the ‘stressful enough to start drinking’ line wherever. We don’t know what he did before that with any certainty, and it could be he did odd jobs, lived off mostly mutual aid and community work, or just focused on only raising the girls. Half-foots tend to be poor and I see a lot of that in Chilchuck specifically so I don’t think he could have afforded to not have some paying work though.

Alright, so then why do I think he did drink when the girls were younger?

I give a more complete rundown of the info we do have on his alcoholism & his family with panels and references + all the speculation I make from it here. But the most targeted and objective answer I can give is:

Of course there’s just very very little we know of Chilchuck’s life with his family, and I think that’s by design too. I think the details being up in the air is to allow more nuance of the topic, like, will trying to reconcile go well, is their relationship salvageable? We don’t know, because we don’t know. So the message of giving hope a chance even if it’s a long shot, that things could truly go either way, is more relevant, impactful and meta in that way. How long was he usually away for work travels into dungeons here and there? How did he act with them? All we can really do is "it’s likely that", it’s a game of which way we think it’s more implied. There’s no right and wrong answer, it’s all Marcille-like larping the events out.

My main reason for thinking he did is that his father died from overdrinking and Chilchuck is very aware of that. He mentions his death casually in the extra about their stance in alcohol and in his Adventurer’s Bible profile, etc. He acts towards the alcohol presumably the same way his father did: with abandon, uncaring for the health effects, probably happily too considering Chil says "dying doing something you love is a good way to go". Very nonchalant. So you see what I’m saying here right, wether he started early or late, his view of alcoholism is very influenced by what he saw of his father growing up, it’s something he’s always been aware of and saw in a mostly positive light, something that was inherited you could say. It’s something that was normalized to him from a young age. Regardless or where it goes from there I do think this part is pretty inarguable. If he views it positively and we know that in the present alcohol is his favorite food that he loveees, why would he have held out on it? Personally that all makes me think he started drinking very young, especially since I don’t think they limited alcohol to age as much as modern standards (and I mean, teen drinking is obviously still a thing). And here you could argue, maybe his father only started being more alcoholic later when Chilchuck moved out, or something! And to that there’s nothing I can say except I think that’s a strained theory, and that Chil might even have largely cut contact with his family after moving out (since he and siblings are listed as almost strangers and he doesn’t seem to have much emotional attachment to his parents, but also we know he rents out his place to "a relative"), but it’s true we have no evidence. "I’ve picked up the same unhealthy substance abuse as my father haha! No big deal right haha" repeated several times to me just reeks of intergenerational trauma, & the alcoholism gene as they call it. Like effortless sliding into drinking as if it’s second nature, it’s natural after all, it’s normal after all, it just makes sense, it makes you feel good and that’s what matters.

BUT from my interpretation then we have a whole other layer: Alcohol is of course not all bad always. I think he’s always liked alcohol and drank it on occasion and it brought him joy etc etc, but I think here the implication in the question is, how much effect did his drinking have on the family relations and how early? And that isn’t so much about when him drinking started but when the alcoholism started. Addiction is defined by a habitual need, that has negative effects from filling that need (physical, psychological, social, etc) and negative effects from withdrawal. If Chilchuck drinks to cope and he can’t not cope without it, that’s addiction, if it affects his relationships, if it’s a need he has, it’s addiction. Addiction can be very insidious or look very casual, and how much people around the person are affected by it is case by case. Cheerful drunks can be sooo annoying and uncomfortable though let me tell you. Drunks are drunks. And this sounds harsh, but even if people around them don’t mind drunks it’ll still have some effects here and there, living with one can be such a challenge, ily drunks good luck with everything much like Chilchuck you deserve good things 🫡　

Ok so with the dad thing and the "ok well maybe he’s always drunk casually but it grew worse with time around when he started working as a dungeon diver" precision made, the other bit of info we have that can inform this is that Chilchuck is on a harsh diet and that alcohol is a hunger suppressant. We know Chilchuck "used to be fine not eating for two days", that literally on screen to quench his hunger so it doesn’t keep him awake he goes to drink water, drinking is his instinct to hunger. Again alcohol is a hunger suppressant and if you want info on that the internet has a lot of research and anecdotes about it. He diets to be light enough to not trigger traps, so it’s something he’d have started after dungeon diving most likely. Between the stress and the diet, yes it’s extremely likely he started going harder on alcohol after he started working in dungeons. There’s arguments on wether two days without eating is less bad for half-foots than humans, but apart from smaller portions there’s nothing that indicates half-foots should get less than 3 meals a day. They need less food but that’s because their bodies are smaller: the need is proportional to the body, not smaller than others’ races, the % of need is similar even if the kg amount of food isn’t. There’s also a popular headcanon with support basis that half-foots run hot and have a faster heartrate and whatnot, and that points towards a faster metabolism rather than a slower one: a bigger need for eating rather than a smaller one. He has the same bmi, 18, as Mickbell, but perhaps because Chil is much taller he’s less intensely visibly underweight with ribs showing than Mick during the bath extra, it’s most apparent when he becomes tallman.

Alcohol is something so important and omnipresent in his character that I have trouble believing it’s something that was part of only a small fraction of his life. It’s his immediate go-to, his no-brainer solution to a good time, I’ve sort of always assumed especially after looking at his family that it’s something he discovered decently young. Like he just acts like someone who’s always had alcohol to fall back on and started young idk. Alcohol is one of his 5 keywords. Alcoholism is very ingrained into his world view and life, his "it doesn’t matter" stance his ‘work hard play hard’ mentality his idea that the world is harsh so you get relief where you can, so it just makes sense to me that it’s always been in his life, if not actively then at least looming.

So yes, in summary, my take: Alcohol was always something he wholly enjoyed to an unwise level, but it could have been considered casual until he started working into dungeons and his need for it on a regular basis intensified. Alcohol has always had positive association to him as far as we see, so when it started being a problem he didn’t see it as such. To quote him, "I drink anytime I get the opportunity to". Why always? Approval of father’s alcoholism. Why alcoholism at all? Diet + stress & coping mechanism & emotional stunting + relationship issues, and she decided she had enough after they went out for drinks.

Conclusion

Chilchuck having drunk from a young age makes sense to me and it’s the strongest narrative angle I see on the table, but that’s objectively a me opinion, yes! There’s no evidence, moreso there’s canon basis and supporting info, but it’s all very left up to interpretation. I’ve made my own interpretations of things from the scraps we see, like everyone else making Chilwife and daughters content. Wether you have a stance on the topic or prefer to leave it vague in your takes, it’ll be a matter of what you think makes most sense, or what you’d rather believe I suppose (which is literally fine)

There’s a lot of subjectivity in even just setting up causal links like you probably noticed during this and I was careful with my word choices, because we’re just extrapolating from what we see and unless Kui states it explicitly from a reliable mouth all we can do is have informed opinions on most things. This particular interpretation is influenced by other details I’ve come to form about my interpretation of Chilchuck too, the more psychological and emotional sides of him and the timeline and how his marriage even happened, unplanned pregnancy imo. Like I hope you see what I mean, this wasn’t supposed to be a speculation post just a quick simple answer but there’s sort of just no other and concise but complete way with the subjectivity nuance to put "maybe it could be yes because of this but maybe it could be no because of this" haha

Edit: Wait the phrasing on this… Interesting. "In recent years"— This does imply that if not just his alcohol consumption increasing then the diversity and quality of it did, so either he indeed did start drinking more (not necessarily meaning he didn’t drink before) assumedly because of his wife leaving, or he started drinking other/more different kinds of alcohol maybe due to the union he formed + his experience gave him greater salary than he had previously (and no wife and family to provide money for), a mix of both perhaps.

[autism-disco]

if you could go anywhere/see anything in the whole universe where would you go?

hmmmmm that’s a whole lotta places. uh assuming i could do this like cost free and without yknow dying of space travel and such. i’d explore a bit to see what time is and how it changes. i’d find a field far away and lie down and sing a song. i mean if there’s no limit on the amount of places i can go i’d probably check out a lot of earth too, but i’m curious as to what’s out there in the potentially infinitesimal existence of everything. the chances are however, everything would be kinda overwhelming, yknow there’s a whole lot of everything (as will wood said, everything is a lot) so i think i would also come back home and lie down

[akkivee]

the arb brand surprise for the 1️⃣🐴💉event was an unexploded bomb going off and helping ichiro’s senpai’s business out in the process, which truly is just ✨arb things✨ lol, but it reinforces the impact the war had on japan, as we see from jakurai’s homecoming conversation in the fpmtr➕ manga

[xiaq]

Story time: Amazon can go fuck itself, and other genteel thoughts.

Good evening. I’m angry.

Up until now, I’ve purchased the majority of items I can’t thrift from Amazon because it’s easy and cost-effective, despite the moral qualms I have about the company. Previously, support was simple. If an item was damaged or a package didn’t arrive, you hopped on chat/the phone, provided proof, and they gave you a refund or return label.

But some shitstain from on high has introduced a new “incident report” process when something goes wrong. You submit your details, you wait 72 hours, and then they give you a refund. This would also be fine. If it fucking worked. But I have, at this point, irrefutable evidence that this is not actually how the process is intended to work. It’s meant to drive you so far up the wall that you either die from a stress-induced heart attack, or rage quit, and they get to keep your money.

In the last several months, I’ve had to submit three incident reports for damaged and undelivered items (I’m also encountering a lot more issues with item delivery, but that’s a different story).

ALL THREE TIMES, the process has taken weeks rather than days because ALL THREE TIMES they conveniently “had no record” of multiple incident reports I submitted despite the fact that I had confirmation emails each and every time.

Now, I’m a petty bitch, so even though the hours I was spending checking in, waiting on hold on the phone, being passed from agent to agent, was not worth the $10 and $20 refunds I was trying to get them to honor, I wasn’t going to give up. This last time, though. Oh they really tried.

So. My item isn’t delivered. I submit an incident report on the 12th and get my confirmation email of the submission on the 12th. I haven’t heard back by the 14th so I call and check. Shockingly, they have no record of my report. I submit another one, get another confirmation email. I call back the next day to check they received it. They have not. I beg them to let me forward the confirmation emails I have. I ask what else I can do different. They tell me to submit a new report and hang up on me. I submit another report. I receive another confirmation email. I call the next day. Can you guess? They have no record of it. This time, I ask for them to stay on the line with me while I submit a new report and confirm it’s been received. He confirms receipt and promises I will receive a response by the 21st. I record this conversation because I have a suspicion.

Hello. It is the 21st. Have I received a response? No. I call back. THIS ASSHOLE, who I’m pretty sure is reading this shit from a script, says, (are you ready for this) “There’s no record of an incident report, you’ll need to submit one.” I insist that I had confirmation in writing and verbally. She insists it does not exist.

So I tell her. I now have four confirmation emails. I have a recording of an Amazon support person with their credentials assuring me with the product number stated, that they’ve received my report. I also have been recording this conversation. And if she cannot assist me, I will be posting those emails and both recordings to every social media platform I have, filing a BBB complaint, and checking with my lawyer to see what options I have for legal action (do I have a lawyer? Of course not. But she doesn’t know that).

Immediately, she is backpedaling. “Oh, let me check again, maybe I missed it.” Less than 30 seconds later she’s back on the line. “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, I do have your report here. I will process a refund now.” Shocking. I am shocked.

IT SHOULD NOT TAKE THIS MUCH EFFORT TO GET A COMPANY TO HONOR THEIR PROMISED LEVEL OF SUPPORT.

Jesus Christ.

B and I will be finding different local places to purchase items we tend to buy via Amazon now, because I have every intention of ending our Prime membership. It looks like between Costco and Target we should be covered.

Anyway. No point to this except to rant. Thanks for reading if you got this far. I’m going to go lay under the weight of my dog and try to get my heart rate down.

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖

under the mistletoe

lsu!joe x fem!reader

summary: you and joe can’t stand each other. what happens when your stubbornness meets his head on… underneath the mistletoe.

warnings: minors dni, 18+. cocky joe is always his own warning, kissing, spitting, p in v, semi-public sex.

word count: 4.3k

note: happy first day of fic-mas! what better way to start than with lsu joe <333

“yeah, i’ll be able to make it… i think,” you say into your phones receiver, struggling to slide your uggs on and talk on the phone at the same time. “sorry margot! i’m scrambling this morning!” you tell your roommate, turning her on speaker and laying your phone on the counter.

her cheerful voice fills the kitchen as she responds. “it‘s okay babe! i just heard about this party and we have to go to it before we go home for christmas this year! can you write it on the fridge calendar?”

as you listen to margot talk, you pop a k-cup into your keurig and begin brewing it, sliding your trusty travel mug underneath to catch all of the delicious liquid that you can only hope will get you through this day.

“yep, i’ll put it on there! december 21st?” you ask her, popping the cap off the dry erase marker that your white-board calendar holds.

“yes, that’s right. we’ll just have to watch our alcohol intake that night since we both have an early flight the next morning.” she laughs.

you write the event down and close the marker, placing it back in its holder. you fix up your coffee as margot continues talking, filling you in on the campus drama she’s already seen this morning.

“so anyways girl,” she raved, the smirk on her face evident in her tone, “i saw justin and joe this morning talking to the same girl. like get a grip. they’re probably having another weird competition again.”

you scowl immediately as you hear joe’s name. the quarterback and his best friend chatting up the same girl, how cliché. “god i cannot stand them!” you reply with an eye-roll, annoyance present in your voice.

you weren’t sure why you hated joe so much. maybe it was the incessant flirting he did with you and every other girl you knew. maybe it was how his friend group always made bets on who could “bag bitches” first, or maybe it was just the overly confident attitude that seeped from his pores. every class that you took with him, you dreaded, because you knew he’d be right there on his bullshit the whole time.

over time, he grew to dislike you as well, especially when he realized his advances wouldn’t work on you. you tried your best to avoid and ignore him, but he always made it difficult for you. he’d bump you as you passed by, knocking you and your books over into the floor. he’d stick his foot out in hopes that you’d trip. he’d send unsolicited dick pics just because he knew it’d piss you off. the joke was on him when you’d reply with laughing emojis or even the shrimp emoji.

margot laughed at your anger. “joe’s honestly kinda funny.” she says, only making you scowl even more. “oh am i?” you can hear him ask her, it becomes obvious to you that he’s made his way over to your best friend. “mhmmm.” she draws out, and you gag. you can imagine her twirling her hair around her finger as she flirts back with him. puke.

“hey princess, comin’ to the party?” he asks, clear that he’d taken margot’s phone. hanging up the phone on him is your answer. how could she be talking trash about him flirting one minute, and then flirting back the next. you roll your eyes for nobody but yourself.

you grab all your things and leave your flat, locking the door behind you as you head to class, ready to get the last few days before winter break over with.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

the days seem to fly by, which you’re thankful for, and you pack your bag at the end of your last class before break with a smile on your face. the party is tonight, which you aren’t really excited for, but you’re going for margot and to get at least a little tipsy.

you sling your bag over your shoulder and head out of the class, your stomach growling as you think of what you should have for dinner.

you’re lost in thought as you walk, and soon you’re running straight into a hard body. as you look up to apologize you realize it’s joe, so you close your mouth as quickly as you’ve opened it.

“damn, princess.” he chuckles, grabbing your elbows to steady you. “if you wanted a hug i could just give you one.” he winks.

“no thanks.” you say, shoving him off you. “i’m too afraid i’ll catch chlamydia or something.” his friend ja’marr laughs at your words and joe throws him a scowl.

“that’s not how that works.” joe snarks, raising an eyebrow at you. “but then again, you probably wouldn’t know, you’re probably a virgin.”

you stomp down hard on his toe. “actually no, i fucked your dad.” you retort, blowing him a kiss as you walk past, and farther down the hallway.

you don’t see justin and ja’marr losing their minds at what you said, falling into each other with laughter. you also don’t see how joe stares as you walk away, a mix of anger and pride written all over his face.

when you make it home, you can barely get your keys out before margot is throwing open the door and dragging you in, headed straight for her closet. she has about ten different outfit options laid out, and even some she’s selected for you, including a beautiful strappy red dress.

“help me pickkkkk.” she whines, rifling through all the clothes she’s strewn over her bed. you pick up a navy bodycon dress with shiny silver accents and hold it up to her frame, followed by a long, dark green dress.

“i’ve always liked how these two look on you, marg. pick one of them!” you say, trying to sound as chipper as possible. she holds them both up as she turns to look in the floor length mirror, examining them and trying to make a decision.

“ughhhhh, i don’t knowwww.” she whines again, and you’ve had enough. you snatch the red dress off the bed and race out of her room, headed for your own. you lock the door behind you, and you hear margot laughing as she knocks at the door.

“bitch!” she yells, amused at your antics. you step into your bathroom, hanging the dress on the back of the door as you slip your clothes off and turn the hot shower on. you tie your hair up, not wanting it to get wet, and you step under the hot stream.

the water hits your back pleasantly, the warmth working at the knots of stress you’d been holding in your shoulder blades. you lathered your body wash onto your loofah and began scrubbing, washing away the ick of your day.

you quickly check your body, rinsing before turning the water off and stepping out of the shower to dry off with your favorite fluffy towel. you lotion up, put on some perfume, and apply a quick layer of makeup - concealer, mascara, and lipgloss - before sliding the dress on and letting down your hair. the red fabric hugged your shape in all the right places, and you posed in the mirror as you admired just how good you looked.

you plugged the curling iron in and as you waited for it to heat up you ran out into your room to slide a thong underneath your dress, followed by putting on a pair of sparkly silver heels. you began curling your hair shortly after, and then you applied some hairspray, then a few accentuating pieces of silver jewelry.

once you were satisfied with how you looked, you spritzed on some extra perfume and unplugged the curler, wrapping the cord around it and shoving it back under your bathroom cabinet. you unlocked your door and went out to the kitchen to try and find a quick snack before the party. you settled on toast, popping a piece of bread into the toaster and pushing the button down.

margot stepped out of her room and joined you in the kitchen just as you were spreading peanut butter on your bread, and she spun around so you could critique her look. she wore the navy dress with black heels, and she looked incredible.

you took a bite of toast before speaking, “it looks great babe!”

she gagged as you spoke with your mouth full. “i can’t believe you’re eating that in a dress, my dress no less!” she scowled playfully.

“i like living life on the edge.”

you finished your food and washed your hands quickly, margot was ready to get out the door. you grabbed your phone and locked up, heading to her car so she could drive to the party. you left your phone in her car as you arrived, knowing you’d be staying sober and driving back home tonight. you had originally planned on drinking, but you changed your mind. leaving your phone was against your better judgment, but you did it anyway.

margot left her phone as well but she gave you her keys, knowing you’d be dragging her ass home tonight since you had to fly out in the morning.

as you walked into the party, you laid down the game plan.

“alright, let’s try to stick together, no unnecessary hook-ups. and please don’t drink too much. i’d also like to get home in enough time to sleep a little, and finish packing a few things.” you tell her.

she rolls her eyes and calls you a procrastinator before reluctantly agreeing. you head into the party, the loud music was already bumping through the house and making the floor shake. you knew this was a “christmas” party, but you didn’t expect anything less than rap music to be blaring throughout the frat house.

you stuck by margot’s side as she waded to the kitchen, ready to indulge in a few drinks. you politely declined all that was offered to you, and you kept a close eye on your friend as she began downing shots. after a few sips of liquid courage she finally wanted to dance, so she pulled you along until you were passing through the doorway into a giant room that had been transformed into a dance floor. red lights created a sexy scene, and a disco ball was hung from the ceiling, swirling around and creating a beautiful pattern along the walls.

unfortunately, you didn’t make it past the door. as you were headed one way, joe was headed another, and his friends blocked you both so neither of you could pass.

“the fuck are y’all doing?” joe asked irritatedly, shooting pointed glares toward his friends and to you. “seriously, move and let me through.” you said, just as angered.

justin and ja’marr laughed and smirked at each other, and you noticed margot giggling too as she pointed up to the top of the door-frame. hanging there, of course, was a bit of mistletoe.

joe spoke first. he shoved at justin, “dude, fuckin’ move.” he said.

you tried pushing past ja’marr, but he wouldn’t budge. joe shot you a dirty look. “come on, let’s get it over with then.” he said, annoyance very clear in his tone.

“hell no.” you refuse, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “i’d rather stand here all night than kiss you.”

joe’s face turns to what seems to be a genuinely offended expression, and he mirrors your pose as he challenges you. “oh yeah? alright then.” he says, sticking his bottom lip out and furrowing his brow as he shakes his head. “let’s stand here all night.”

you firmly place your back against the door frame as you make eye contact with him, and he does the same. margot is standing by with his friends, and all three of them are laughing hysterically.

“literally the two most stubborn people i’ve ever seen in my life!” she giggles, leaning on ja’marr’s shoulder.

“you think we need to stand and watch ‘em?” justin asks, looking over at margot. ja’marr answers before she has the chance. “nah, if there’s one thing i know about 9, he ain’t backing down from a challenge.”

“y/n’s the same way. she’d argue with a brick wall if it meant she could prove a point. she won’t budge until he does.”

justin laughs at their answers before ushering them off to the dancefloor, leaving you and joe alone to stare at each other with utter disgust.

you huff as you look at joe, and he smirks back at you, unfazed by your little display of attitude. people pass between you and stop to kiss under the mistletoe, on the lips, cheek, or forehead. the two of you also earn many dirty looks.

standing there is honestly easy - at first. the sheer amount of dislike you have for joe is what’s holding you upright, it has to be. you continue to shoot dirty looks at him, all of which he returns, but after a while your legs start feeling weak. you slouch, eventually falling into a sitting position, and you fix your dress along your thighs so nobody can see under it. joe takes the opportunity to tease you.

“just a quick peck,” he smarms, making a kissy face at you. “that’s allll it’ll take.”

you gag, mostly jokingly, at the thought. “i don’t wan’t your lips anywhere near me, burrow.” he laughs and shakes his head, continuing to stand there with his arms crossed.

you sit there for what feels like hours - it has to be hours, people are leaving the party now… and joe is still across from you, still crouched against the doorway. people have resorted to stepping over you both to get through to the kitchen, pecking each other happily as they cross. some of joe’s friends have tried to come save him, they’ve offered to kiss you so he could come play beer pong or hangout, but you won’t let them. you made this bet with joe, and you have to see it through.

you figured joe would break whenever a girl would come offer herself up to him, but he didn’t. he declined everyone that wasn’t you, and brushed all his friends off. you pretended that didn’t affect you… but the fact that he was doing all this because of some stupid rivalry you had with him turned you on as much as it pissed you off, not that you’d ever admit that to him.

as the crowd starts to dwindle down you get nervous, you really need to get margot and head home, but there’s no way you’re breaking and kissing joe. you look over and see her kissing ja’marr in the corner and you roll your eyes. joe seems kinda proud of his friend and a tiny smirk falls upon his lips.

you scoff.

“what’s your problem?” he asks you, sticking his foot out and kicking yours. “i really need to get going. margot and i have to fly out early and she’s over there sucking face. and i’m over here…”

“not sucking face?” he laughs, tilting his head slightly. “exactly.” you agree.

“look, if it’s bothering you that bad,” he shrugs, “i’ll give you a peck to get it over with. then you and margot can leave.” for a moment you think you can see a crack in that ‘fuckboy’ exterior. you aren’t sure you want to take him up on that offer, but you know neither of your friends will let you move from this spot if you don’t.

you think about it for a brief second, and reluctantly agree to let joe kiss you. you try to talk yourself down. i mean, it could be worse. at least he isn’t ugly.

“okay… fine. but you have to tell everyone you caved.”

“whatever you say, princess.” he lilts, already leaning in toward you. “don’t call me that, i hate it.” you snap, looking him firmly in the eye.

“why?” he teases, inching closer, “it’s what you act like. even now, getting your way so you can go home instead of standing here all night. you’re a spoiled little princess.”

you reach out your hand and place it on his chest, you definitely don’t want to kiss him now. that doesn’t stop him, though. he’s already almost there until finally, his lips are touching yours as his frame towers over yours a bit. you’re both still sitting on the floor, but joe stands up quickly and yanks you up with him.

your immediate reaction to the kiss is to squirm away, but joe doesn’t let you. he wraps his arms around your smaller frame and pulls you into him, caging you against his chest. his lips start moving against yours and after a moment, you start kissing back.

all the alarms in your head are going off, but you can’t force yourself to care now. joe is a really good kisser. your hands find their way to his hair, tugging slightly. joe pulls away for a quick breath.

“went from not wanting my lips near ya to tugging on my shit real quick, huh?”

you slap his arm, earning yourself a laugh. you wait for joe to lean back in, but he never does, and for some reason you feel hurt by it. you look over and see margot still occupied with ja’marr, and then you turn your attention back to joe. he takes in your expression before laughing, you look like a kicked puppy.

“what’s wrong, princess?” he teases again, sliding his hands back around your waist. “didn’t realize you liked me so much?”

“fuck off, joe.” you retort, but you’re laughing as you say it. you stand on your tiptoes to meet his lips again, and he obliges you. you move together in sync, and this time he keeps his hold on you, pulling you even closer.

“always knew you liked me, could fuck you under this mistletoe if i wanted.” he rasps. you moan at the thought. you aren’t sure what’s come over you. you didn’t drink anything… you aren’t usually desperate… maybe it’s something to do with the fact that joe said he didn’t want this just as much as you said you didn’t, but here you are both reveling in each other’s touch. it felt like you couldn’t get close enough to each other. he pushes your back against the doorway, finally moving his hands off your hips and tangling them in your hair.

the tip of his tongue dips into your mouth slightly, and you push yours back against his, sliding it along the roof of his mouth as you slip past his lips. before you know it, joe’s dragging you down the hall and into the first vacant room he can find before he’s throwing you down onto the bed and towering over you. you push up to unzip your dress, realizing you might want this just as much as he does, but he stops you by holding out a hand.

“nah, keep it on. slide it up.”

you do as you’re told, sliding your dress over your legs, wiggling your butt and arching your back so you can get it up over ass and hips. joe drinks in the sight of you, your smooth legs and gorgeous body. you’re insecure about yourself a lot, but he’s looking over you like a man starved as he licks his lips.

he doesn’t bother closing the door as he stalks toward you, pulling a condom from his back pocket with one hand while unbuttoning his pants with the other. you slide your panties down your legs and spread them open for him with confidence.

“fuck,” he gasps, watching as you dip your fingers down between your folds to gather some of your wetness and then you rub them in tight circles on your clit. you gasp as you touch yourself, your eyes following joe as he finally pulls his pants down far enough, fisting his hand along his admittedly large length. you always teased him about it in pictures, but it was big. he knew it, you knew it, half of the state of louisiana knew it. and to your dismay, it was prettier in person.

joe finally makes it to the edge of the bed, still watching you as you work yourself. you figured you’d be cringing at the lack of foreplay, or how his pants aren’t even all the way off, but you can’t bring yourself to care as he continues stroking himself before ripping open the condom and sliding it on. he gets on the edge of the bed by his knees and comes toward you a little, a hand extending out to run a finger through your heat and gather some of the wetness pooling there. he smears it all over his cock, and even though the condom is there, it still drives you crazy to see. “joe, come on before i back out.” you tell him, and you almost don’t recognize your fucked out voice.

the heat of the moment is so enticing to you both. his clothes are still on, pants down his legs halfway, and your dress is hiked up while you dig your high heeled shoes into someone else’s mattress. he finally leans forward and slides into you. you take a sharp breath, feeling more full than you ever have as he pushes in to the hilt.

joe barely gives you any time to adjust before he’s thrusting into you roughly. his lips find yours again and you gasp into his mouth. he pulls away slightly, allowing a drop of spit to fall from his lips into your mouth, which you take happily. you’re both moving sloppily against each other, but as joe brings his hand to your clit to flick his fingertips against it gently, you can’t bring yourself to even care. you’ve had sex with plenty of people and you’ve had orgasms before, but you’ve never experienced the euphoria joe is making you feel.

the warmth starts at the top of your head and it spreads throughout your extremities, into your fingertips and toes. you arch into him, your lips still moving together, and joe’s hips are still pounding into yours, shaking the bed against the wall. you cringe as you hear margot’s keys jingling in your bra. it doesn’t seem to bother joe.

with a few quick slips of his fingers over your clit, you’re cumming against him without warning, and harder than you ever have in your life. the tight squeeze around his cock as you cum is the catalyst for his own orgasm as he spills into the condom.

he pulls out of you with haste, ready to tie off the condom and discard it as fast as possible, hating how slimy it feels. just as soon as he’s moved you dart off the bed, grabbing your panties and slipping them up your legs before attempting to make a run for it.

joe pulls his pants and boxers up, tucking himself in and then runs after you, making it to the door before you. “pretty good, wasn’t it?” he jokes, and you roll your eyes at him before pushing past and walking back down the hall, headed for margot. he chases after you.

“okay, didn’t last as long as i normally would, but i mean, we could do it again, i could prove it. that was… you were…”

you press a finger to his lips as you pass through the very same doorway that got you into this predicament. your eyes study joe’s face as he nervously worries his bottom lip between his teeth. you’ve never seen him like this before, he’s shaken up, and you like that you’re the cause of it. you’d hate to admit it, but you would like to do this again. you point up at the mistletoe and joe takes the hint, pulling you in for another short yet sweet kiss.

“text me.” is all you say before walking over to margot, grabbing her by the arm, and dragging her out the door and to the car. you pull her keys from your bra and unlock it, opening the passenger door and shoving her in before going to the drivers side and starting the ignition.

margot slurs her words as she speaks to you. “wha’ happened? did’ya kiss ‘im?”

“i’ll tell you later, marg.” you say, eager to get home as quickly as possible. you park as quickly as you’ve pulled into the space and you help margot out, grabbing both your phones before you go inside, taking margot right to her room. she insists she’s okay enough to take off her makeup and undress, and she promises she’ll drink water before she falls asleep. you head to your room, shocked to see the clock on your phone reading 1:00am already.

you set yourself an alarm for six, and you undress quickly before sliding on some pajamas and settling in bed.

when you wake the next morning it’s to margot beating on your door. “wake the hell up, we missed our flight!”

you scramble out of bed, unplugging your phone and running out into the hall. margot stands next to her door, laughing at you as you panic.

“don’t just stand there, marg!” you shout, your voice laced with panic. “we’ve gotta get dressed, load our bags, call the airport—“

she cuts you off with a loud laugh. “relax, y/n.” she says between giggles. “we aren’t late. i just wanted to get back at you. how dare you sleep with the quarterback and not tell your best friend?” she shoves your shoulder.

you look down at your phone, realizing it’s only 6:10am. “bitch.” you laugh, running back into your room. you lock the door behind you again, and margot continues her laughter. “i need all the juicy details! literally every last second of it, you have to tell me everything!”

you weren’t sure how she even knew, even though you’re sure ja’marr probably texted her.

you roll your eyes at her even though she can’t see it as you head to your bathroom, ready to take a quick shower. you check your phone one last time before hopping in the water, noticing a text notification from joe, who you’ve affectionately saved as “fuckface.”

you don’t open it just yet, but you crack a smile knowing he’s messaged you already. what have you gotten yourself into?

all photos and dividers used are not mine. all credit to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow

[kkuzushi]

KRNDJENSIND words cannot express how happy i am when you wrote my "loving scara in the public restroom" request LIKE— AAAAAA THANK YOU SO SO MUCH

Yes i have came to you with ANOTHER REQUEST— imagine reader being so busy because of assignments and scara is over here being a top 1 student who already finished all his homeworks and gets frustrated(also concerned) with you because he thinks you're so stupid to not know/understand this equation/subject and how you're not sleeping and eating that much. And whenever he offers to help you, you refuse and he gets so frustrated that he started insulting you like crazy and now you two started fighting..... One thing led to another and scara found himself pinned on the bed while getting pounded— and and they are still insulting each other while they're at it

So they're kinda like fighting while making love..............

You can ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable... But if you do plan on taking this, THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN🫶🏻🫶🏻

Also can I be 🎐 or 💜 anon? (Incase the former has already been taken...)

“ 𝗚𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆..𝗶𝗻 𝗕𝗲𝗱 ”

✦ characters: sub!scaramouche x gn!dom!reader

✦ cw: modern college scara, rival-ish, handjob (giving), slight brat taming, slight humiliation, edging, begging, dacryphilia, cock/strap penetration

✦ word count: 2.199k

✦ notes: I may or may not have gotten overboard with this one.. Apologies for the late submission, but yes, you can be my 🎐anon. <3

✦ Part 1 | Part 2

Hell week has arrived at your university which means it's time for endless study sessions in your room like every normal student would do, unless they’re confident with their skills.

And of course, one of those students was Scaramouche—the one who effortlessly reaches the honor list. Seriously, how does he do it? Either way, that should be the least of your problems. You're over competing with him when it comes to academics.

However, the man doesn't seem to get the hint, always disturbing the peace in your shared dorm everytime he sees you going cross-eyed with the learning materials scattered at your work desk.

Scaramouche leans casually against the doorway, watching you silently for a moment as you pore over your notes. A smirk slowly spreads across his face before he speaks, the teasing arrogance evident in his voice.

“Are you stressing over there again?” He crosses his arms, walking closer and peering at your notes. “I could ace this in my sleep. You know, if you're going to work this hard, at least make sure it's worth it.”

His tone softens just slightly as his eyes flicker over your tired expression. “Just go to bed, you won't be able to surpass me no matter how you study anyway.”

You kept your eyes glued to your notes, not allowing the annoying presence beside you to disturb your concentration. “Bold of you to assume I'm studying to ‘surpass’ you,” You responded shortly after.

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow—if you weren't studying to surpass him, then why are you working your ass off for this? He wouldn't say you're on the same level of intelligence as him but it's not like you were dumb.

But that's what you two were, right? Academic rivals, or at least, that's what he thought.

“Anyway, could you leave? I need to focus here,” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, remembering he's still in your room.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Scaramouche asks, crossing his arms as he looks down at you with a smirk. “Last time I checked, we share this dorm.”

“This dorm, not this room,” You corrected, clicking your pen. “Now leave, your annoying face is distracting me.”

How rude, he's been doing nothing but ease your mind from the stress you're experiencing. Sure he just teases the hell out of you, but can't you be a little more appreciative?

“You're an ungrateful brat, you know that?” He frowned, snatching a page of your notes from your desk. He hummed, taking a good look at what you've written, though it looked like he's just judging your handwriting.

“Who the hell needs to take notes in math? Just remember the formula and you're good to go,” Scaramouche complained. Was he just sugarcoating the question “are you stupid”? You could almost hear those same exact words in between his statements.

“Well unfortunately, not everyone is like you,” You argued before extending your hand, gesturing for the note he's still holding, “Now give that back.”

Scaramouche hummed, his eyes flickering over to you and the paper he’s holding before his lips curled upwards again. “And if I say no?” He grinned, keeping the item out of your reach.

You could almost feel a vein appear on your forehead—irritation wasn't an unfamiliar feeling when it comes to dealing with your roommate. You pushed yourself up and reached for the paper but Scaramouche was too quick to pull it away.

“Scaramouche!” You called out, the frustration in your tone becoming more apparent. His grin widened, enjoying your helplessness in this situation, “Too slow.”

You make another attempt to reach for it, lunging forward with determination, and to your misfortune, Scaramouche pulls away at the last minute—a sharp, ripping sound coming from the material, tearing down from the middle, leaving the both of you with a piece.

Scaramouche was stunned for a moment, it wasn't part of his plan to rip out your notes. His smirk falters but he composed himself, swallowing the guilt, “That was clearly your fault. If you asked nicely, I would’ve–”

Before he could finish his sentence, he found himself tumbling backwards onto your bed, the mattress creaking from the sudden weight. “Hey–! What the fuck was that for?!” He retorted, supporting himself on his elbows.

You approached him on the bed, one leg sliding in between his, your knee pressing lightly on his crotch. His eyes widened slightly from the contact, but he hid it with a scowl. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked in a low tone.

“You think you can just waltz in here,” You pressed down your knee, feeling his member throb. “Disturb me while I'm studying, then ruin my notes for fun?” You added more pressure, watching his adam's apple bob as he gulped.

“You think I did that on purpose?!” He argued, his cheeks puffing with red tint. The tension’s getting to him and he can't say he doesn’t like it, but that doesn't make it less embarrassing. “I would've given it back if you begged,” He added, grabbing your shoulders to push you away with an obvious half-hearted strength.

“Begging, huh?” A malicious smirk appeared on your lips. Your hand reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants, revealing his garment that's now outlining a bulge.

“Hey! Don't you dare–” Scaramouche attempts to push your hand away, but you were quick enough to pin his wrists above his head. Now he was fully trapped beneath you, the warmth on his cheeks deepening as he scowled at you.

“Can't you be cooperative for once?” You huffed, now taking his boxers off. He wriggled his hips to make things difficult for you yet it only assisted in removing his garment. His cock springs out, arousal evident with how hard he already got.

You eyed him, watching his reaction once your hand was wrapped around his length, pumping to and fro. The indigo-haired boy bit his lip, suppressing his sounds, though soft whimpers escaped.

“There's no need to be shy.”

“I'm not! You're just bad at giving handjo–ohmmFuHK–♡”

“You talk too much,” You grumbled and picked up the pace. A bead of precum instantly leaked out from the head of his cock, allowing your hand to slide easily on his shaft.

Scaramouche gritted his teeth, unable to protest any longer in fear of moaning accidentally as soon as he opens his mouth. With how vulnerable he felt in this compromising position, he felt himself getting closer to edge, quicker than he usually does.

“Shit– hah.. ‘m gonna..♡” He murmured, closing his eyes as he accepted the inevitable defeat—until your hand stopped, forcing his climax to go back down.

His eyes shot open, not expecting for you to deny him release. “Why’d you stop??” Scaramouche asked frustratedly, his hips bucking to your palm to create friction.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, “You didn't expect to cum so easily, did you?” you teased. A baffled expression appears on the indigo haired man’s face, his eyebrows furrowing down.

“Hm, maybe if you begged,” You cooed, using his previous words against him as you start stroking his cock once more, “I might just consider it.”

His eyes widened a little more, begging? You must be out of your mind if you think you'll get the Scaramouche to beg, much less for a release.

But things aren't working out to his favor. Your hand around the length, the relentless pace returning as his hips snapped from the sensation. Scaramouche could no longer argue; the pressure mounting inside him was too much, threatening to explode once again.

“Too fast– ngh– gonna..! ♡” he whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as his body tensed, unable to hold back the impending release. Just as he felt himself teetering on the edge, your hand abruptly stopped again, “Didn't I say you should beg?”

His eyes fluttered open, a mixture of frustration and desperation on his face. “I never agreed to do that,” He huffed, wiggling his wrists out of your grip.

Seems like a simple handjob won't do the trick. Deciding to take it up a notch, you pulled your own pants down. The blush on Scaramouche's face tripled, “What are you planning?” He asked in a sharp tone though he can't deny how his cock throbbed at the sight of your own.

“Don’t play stupid,” You sneered, grinding the head on Scaramouche's ass, pressing your body against his to spread his legs; your free hand moved to his hips, supporting your position.

His eyebrows furrowed further to your comment, lips quivering as he slowly engulfs your length. Once you full bottom out, Scaramouche tried to relax, his breath coming with uneven huffs as he adjusted to the intrusion.

“You look cute underneath me like this,” You teased as you started to thrust into him at a languid pace. A gasp would leave his mouth every time you'd rub him deeply inside—If he could, he'd grab onto you or the sheets to ground himself, but with his wrists still pinned down by your grip, all he could do was accept the sensation.

It wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He's a patient man and you'll start to get needy soon, Scaramouche thinks to himself. Unfortunately, this was a game he was losing. “Would you stop playing around!?” he hissed, the desperation seething with every word.

You kept the agonizingly slow pace, dragging out every second, watching him writhe with need. Every teasing thrust had him gasping, his body trembling with anticipation, yet you refused to give him what he wanted.

Scaramouche's frustration finally reached its peak, patience snapping as he growled through gritted teeth. “If you’re going fuck me, then fuck me properly!” He spat, his indigo eyes narrowing in aggravation. “Or are you so incompetent that you can’t even do this right?” His voice trembled though still attempted to argue.

You raised an eyebrow, your amusement only growing at his outburst. “Bold words,” you smirked, leaning down to kiss his neck, “for someone who’s trembling.”

“Youhnn♡... jerk!” Scaramouche retorted, his voice laced with both frustration and embarrassment as his body trembled beneath yours again. “Fucking brat..” he added, breathless as his chest heaved with every sharp inhale, his emotions threatening to spill over completely.

“Ironic,” You laughed. Scaramouche’s frustration mounted as his head fell back against the pillow. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the watery sensation. He couldn’t stand this anymore. The humiliation, the teasing—it was too much.

“Shut up...” he whispered, voice trembling as tears began to well in the corners of his eyes. His breath hitched, and despite himself, a frustrated sob broke through his chest. “Shut up and just–just fuck me already!” His voice wavered, filled with desperation.

The word left his lips before he could stop it, and the moment it did, Scaramouche’s defiance shattered completely. He was crying now, tears mixing with frustration as his body gave up the fight. “Fuck me properly already.. please..!” He whimpered, the last word coming out unexpectedly.

You didn't think he'd cry from desperation but it was definitely a beautiful sight. Just having the ever so prideful and arrogant Scaramouche trembling, crying, and begging underneath you.. it was like you're on top of the world already.

Finally getting what you wanted, you firmly grabbed his hips and gave him one rough thrust, to which he responded with a choked out gasp. “Like that?” You murmured.

“Yes!♡ Ohngh god.. more! ♡” He moaned, his back arching with how precise your cock has hit his sensitive prostate. You've been teasing and edging him for too long, it feels like he's about to crumble just this very moment.

As you continued fucking his ass with more enthusiasm, Scaramouche could no longer stop his wanton moans. “More, please..hah–♡” He begged though still quite with a demanding tone, “Don't you–mmngh♡♡–dare stop..!”

You feel him slowly tightening around your length, his climax building up once more.

“I'm close–”

“You know what to say.”

“..let me cum.. please–AHnggh!♡♡”

How does the word ‘please’ sound so good from his mouth? It only motivated you to finally let him get his release, pounding him vigorously without a break. The overwhelming sensation has his legs shaking, and with one last scream– “C-Comingghmmm..!!♡♡♡”

Ropes of thick cum shot out, landing on his stomach. He whimpered and panted heavily, all energy he had earlier now extinct. You continued to thrust a little more before your own orgasm joined him, your body slowly collapsing on top of him.

The two of you stayed there, bodies sticking with sweat and other fluids. “I'm still not letting you off the hook about my notes,” you wheezed, managing a tired grin.

“I have some.. in my room,” he muttered, his voice weak and a little hoarse. He was still catching his breath but his usual sharpness had faded, replaced with exhaustion and a hint of embarrassment.

“In math? I thought you didn't need that,” you smirked as you brushed a few strands of hair away from his face. “You better not be lying, or we’ll be doing this all over again.”

Scaramouche let out a quiet scoff, his usual attitude barely making a comeback. “As if you’d complain.”

[muletia]

Yknow what? At this point if megatron is obbsessed with human pussy then might aswell make soundwave join the party too. Hooray! Another decepticon joins in!!! Because we all know soundwave is very loyal and trust worthy to megatron, and megatron trust more to soundwave then the rest of the decepticons. Both honestly insane for y/n

Starscream on the other hand- he thinks this is getting ridiculous and just stare in horror😭

wrote this instead of studying. i cannot stop thinking about them handsome obsessed mechs man. and as for starscream - I have way different plans for him in this au thanks to one very delicious anon ask :))

When Soundwave joins your merry band of obsessed Decepticons, there’s no way for you to escape from the Nemesis (I mean, you’ll manage somehow, because this is crack—anything goes, and the bullshit flows freely). His master had already instructed him to monitor you constantly, especially since Optimus somehow keeps breaking onto their ship. Initially, Soundwave simply carried out the order without questioning his master’s decision. There wasn’t a shred of personal desire, sympathy, or sentiment in his actions.

Well, his motives change drastically when he concludes that you’re worth his attention. Curiosity turns into attachment, attachment into need, and need into hunger. From that moment, the order ceases to be an obligation fulfilled out of loyalty. It transforms into care. Into the need to protect. Under no circumstances could you fall back into the servos of the Autobots. Your place was here, on Megatron’s lap and under his watchful gaze.

I don’t think Soundwave hides his feelings. Even though he’s mute, calculated, and above all, a cold-blooded spy, Megatron easily guesses that his second-in-command has plans for you that go beyond his primary orders. His body language gives him away—tiny deviations noticeable only because of the eons of history they share. It’s subtle but undeniable. And astonishing, because Soundwave betrayed him. The most loyal follower stepped beyond the boundaries of an order, proving that the impossible became possible—that an apathetic machine could feel.

At first, Megatron is furious. He didn’t plan to share. He had already claimed you—you belonged to him alone, and once he won the war, you were to stay in his servos forever. There was no room for another mech, for anyone else. But possessiveness doesn’t get the chance to take root, completely consume his processor, and lead to irreversible, harmful decisions. This arrangement might prove fruitful, after all. Megatron still trusted his spy—more than any of his other subordinates. And so, he allows the partnership.

Your freedom on the Nemesis may have expanded, but hopping from one crazed Decepticon to another came with a catch tied to a suspiciously practical offer. Megatron informed you that from time to time, his second-in-command would take care of you, so you could forget about ever seeing the Autobots again. However, he didn’t tell you that his second-in-command was just as unhinged as he was—and apparently had plans for you that extended beyond passive observation.

Soundwave isn’t as touchy-feely. He doesn’t hold you against his chassis for hours to prove that his badonkers are bigger than his rival’s. He doesn’t demand touch from you, either. But there are moments when he forces closeness: stroking your hair, examining your body with his thin digits, massaging your back. He isn’t invasive like Megatron, nor harsh in his affections. His movements are subtle, carrying greater respect for you. After all, you didn’t fully belong to him. He only got a fraction, a small piece to calm his raging processor chanting your name. Megatron holds the reins and always will.

It’s most evident when they’re together in the same room. It’s on Megatron’s throne you sit, on his lap, as he recites Cybertronian romantic poetry or his own verses—mostly concerning his turbulent, sick feelings toward you. Soundwave is merely an observer. He doesn’t dare ask for more. He takes the scraps, but they’re enough because you’re close, because he has consistent access to you. He’s also content with his leader’s victory (at least until you return to the Autobots), because when you’re on the Nemesis, everything falls into place. The fire in their sparks burns fiercer, more fervently.

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (11) - First Light

Chapter summary: A much needed discussion takes place and it ends with Astarion coating his daggers with poison.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past trauma. Mentions of oral sex. Blood drinking,

Word count: 4.3k

Author's note: I am still unable to reply to comments (I'm waiting for tumblr support to fix this... I read all of the, I promise. You can also send and ask or head to ao3 so I can reply there. Thank you!

Series masterlist

Ao3

Wyll Ravengard was the picture-perfect of integrity.

Well, if you were to exclude his past dealings with the half-devil Mizora. But even then, he had been mostly justified in his assessment of the situation.

So it came as no surprise when you weren't able to find a single trace of judgement on his face.

Only evident concern.

Shadowheart had quickly filled him in on the Waterdeep situation as well as provided him with enough context when it came to Ava.

“Well, this is a… mess,” Wyll eventually drawled out.

Astarion, who was sitting to your right, immediately snickered. “Understatement of the year.”

Shadowheart, who was sitting to you left, promptly quipped, “I wonder whose fault that is.”

He leaned forward to glance at her. “Darling, all that pent-up frustration must–”

You heaved a deep sigh as you nudged him with your elbow, not in the mood to moderate their venomous exchange. “Enough!”

Wyll took a seat across from yours as a Fist stood by his side, hand clasping the handle of his sword in a silent warning.

“You should have told me about your arrangement with Ava,” he said, locking eyes with you. “I know all too well how some propositions are just rotten from the start and doomed to fail.”

Tension and guilt settled in the pit of your stomach.

Not even half an hour ago, you had been able to momentarily push aside the chaos that had been hurled at you in such short notice.

“It seemed like a fair exchange – if her words are to be believed, that is,” you said.

Wyll tensed up. “There is nothing fair about offering your blood to bloodthirsty fiends as an exchange.” He then glanced at Astarion. “No offense.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “None taken, darling.”

But Wyll did have a point even if your arrangement with Astarion was nothing akin to the one with Ava.

Yet…

“Nothing is set in stone. I don't have to go through with any of it.”

From beside you, Shadowheart managed an irritable look. “I cannot be the only one who finds all of this rather convenient. Even if there is someone connected to Cazador after you, why would she withhold that information? Doesn't she need you safe and sound, Astarion?”

“I suppose so, but who's to say? I would need to talk to her,” he said, eyes on Wyll. “I have to talk to her.”

Wyll immediately understood the implication in his words. “Now?”

“Well, obviously not now,” he said indignantly.

The sun was still up and dusk was hours away. 

“I don't think that's a good idea,” you intervened, heart racing in your chest. “We need to find out first if there's something that links all of this to Ava.”

“Regardless of that, she still needs to answer for her deranged proposition,” Astarion replied.

Shadowheart scoffed. “You were the one who endangered her in the first place with that bizarre deal.”

He was on his feet faster than you could blink, scowling. “Do not make the idiotic mistake of thinking you are the only one here who cares for her.”

She rose from the sofa, matching his defyance. “Oh, I am sure you care for her – in your own twisted way.”

“Can you two stop it?” you half-shouted, coming to stand in between them before he could retort. “This is pointless!”

They glared at each other in silence for a moment before parting ways, with Astarion sinking down on a chair whilst Shadowheart began pacing around the room, evidently distressed.

“My friends, we need to think critically here,” Wyll spoke again. “Arguing with each other is the last thing we ought to do right now.”

Silence followed as tension dispersed.

“Now, as we wait for Lae'zel and Gale to return, I must ask a few questions, Astarion.”

He crossed his arms. “Oh, this should be fun.”

Wyll ignored his snarky remark, assuming a more serious demeanour. “Why would you resort to her in the first place? Was her promise more solid than the Wish spell?”

“There were no promises made,” he said acidly, a nerve clearly having been struck. “She’s merely experimenting and the prospect seemed too good to pass.”

“So, your blood for a way to lessen your vampiric hunger? That was the deal?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine and you watched as Astarion tensed up slightly.

He had never shared with them just how deep the horrors he endured under Cazador's command truly twisted inside him.

How all of it had taken a toll on his ability to be intimate with someone without feeling tainted.

How it had ultimately driven him into striking a deal with someone like Ava as despair took root.

And it wasn't your place to reveal any of it.

So you merely sat back and observed him in silence.

“It seemed good enough back then,” he said coolly. “Besides, it could also be helpful to the spawn in the Underdark.”

That had Wyll arch an eyebrow. “The spawn?”

“Petras has been sending letters to report back, and – well, let's just say that dealing with 7,000 hungry vampire spawn isn't an easy feat,” he said. “I figured that if her experiment were to be successful, then it'd be beneficial for them as well.”

Oh.

Shadowheart waggled her eyebrows as her feet came to a halt. “So you weren't merely thinking about yourself?”

“Initially, yes. Of course.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“However, I was the one who doomed them to eternal hunger, so it seemed fitting I'd help.”

“They were doomed either way,” you quickly pointed out. “And it was Cazador's doing.”

His head turned to you. “Be it as it may, their hunger isn't sated for long. I know that all too well.”

Astarion wasn't exactly the epitome of selflessness, but you knew he had come to change some of his ways in the past few weeks after all the events that had unfolded.

And when it came to his own hunger, you figured old habits did die hard.

His eyes then landed on your neck for a moment before looking away.

“I reckon I already know the answer to this, but did you even plan ahead?” Shadowheart said, crossing her arms. “How would you even make this feasible for thousands of spawn with just your own blood? Or were they really just an afterthought?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “Ava was handling the … logistics, shall we say. My blood would be the starting point, but not a requirement.”

She scoffed in utter disbelief. “And you took her word for it… blindly. You simply trusted some monster hunter with a blood fetish? This is ridiculous even for you.”

He was definitely a passionate admirer of the ‘laugh now, cry later’ school of thought, which also meant that when the consequences hit… they would hit hard.

“It's not like progress was being made with the Wish spell, sweetheart,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

A chill rushed through you like a knife. “Only a few weeks had passed, Astarion. All you had to do was wait–”

And then he snapped. His seemingly calm demeanour finally cracking open and revealing the hurt underneath.

“For centuries, all I did was wait! There were times I wished he would just destroy me once and for all to rid me of the burden of being ‘alive’ under such conditions,” he snarled, rising from the chair as he faced you. “I turned away from all that power I could have – the ritual… everything! I – I just…” His voice faltered and he heaved a sigh, reining back his outrage as his face softened into that expression that just broke you. “Is it such a crime that I want better for myself?”

You shook your head, feeling for him, but… “These things take time. Despair leads to rushed actions.”

He grimaced. “So you'd have me turn to hope?”

“Yes.”

He clicked his tongue. “There's nothing quite as cruel as hope, darling.”

You heard Wyll let out an exasperated sigh from across the room. “Astarion, I will not judge you for the decision you made to mingle with Ava – you had your reasons. But the consequences seem severe enough even if she isn't involved in either of the killings.”

He remained silent.

“It's not just about you anymore. She took an interest in her blood and is now using it as a bargaining chip,” he said. “That is unacceptable.”

“I fully agree with Wyll,” Shadowheart said as she came to sit next to you once again.

“And that is why you'll let me go to her,” Astarion said.

“You're still under house arrest. The Council of Four will–”

“To Hells with them all!” Astarion said through clenched teeth, fangs peeking through. “We're your friends, are we not? And since you're so adamant about my fault in this, allow me to set things right.”

“A good call,” Shadowheart chimed in with a nod.

Wyll seemed taken aback by his words and his frown deepened. “I may have the final word as the Grand Duke, but I cannot consciously go against a collective ruling.”

“The circumstances have changed,” Astarion retorted simply. “I will go to her and you're free to have your Fists point a thousand stakes at me along the way if it eases your mind.”

You could tell Wyll felt torn between duty and reasoning, and you didn't envy him in the slightest.

“You don't understand the consequences of–”

Astarion's face darkened and a devious smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, darling. I do understand. I simply do not care.”

Wyll took a deep breath, clearly realising he was fighting a losing battle.

He turned to face the Fist by his side. “Send word to the Council.”

The tall and broad man nodded before exiting through the front door.

“You can't be serious,” Astarion scoffed. “You should have kept this between us. They don't have to know.”

But Wyll merely shook his head. “We can do things your way and my way.”

Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. 

“I'm coming with you,” you said, fully determined..

Shadowheart immediately gripped your arm firmly. “No.”

Wyll rose from his seat. “He shall not go alone, but you don't need to get more involved in this than you already are.”

Astarion turned to face you and raised one hand. “Absolutely not. You stay.”

That made your blood boil almost instantly and a flash of anger crossed your face. “I can fend for myself. Just let me–”

But your words were muffled by a deafening swirling and pulsing sound that came from outside.

In no time, the door was slammed open as a visibly irritated Lae'zel stormed inside.

“Tsk'va! Mages and their nauseating portals,” she grumbled before closing the door shut and plunging the room in candlelight once again. “Almost spilled the contents of my stomach. Twice.”

Both you and Shadowheart flocked to her side and you spoke first, “Are you alright? Where’s Gale?”

She nodded dismissively, placing her esteemed greatsword on the long table. “He stayed behind to converse with a few of his acquaintances, trying to make sense of what happened.”

“Well? What happened, then?” Astarion asked as he approached the three with you with Wyll right behind him.

“The man succumbed to a multitude of slashing wounds.”

Your eyes widened as you gasped.

“Slashing wounds? Was it an animal? A monster?” Wyll immediately pressed.

“We do not know. It was a rather brutal sight even for someone like me,” Lae'zel said with a frown.

A shiver spread across your body and you felt nauseous all of a sudden.

“Was there anything odd about it?” Shadowheart asked.

“Because a man being brutally shredded to pieces isn't odd enough?” Astarion said with a scoff.

She ignored him. “Were there traces of necrotic magic?”

Lae'zel arched a brow. “No. What's with this interrogation?”

Shadowheart was definitely trying to find a common element between the two deaths… and Ava.

And it seemed that there was nothing there.

Yet.

“We are trying to figure out if Ava could have had a hand in this.”

Lae'zel didn't budge. “Who?”

“Ava.”

Lae'zel turned to Astarion. “Your hairdresser?”

This time, Shadowheart clicked her tongue impatiently, hands on her hips. “Astarion struck a deal with some monster hunter turned blood merchant and got her involved.” She extended one arm to at you. “This Ava woman now wants her blood for whatever nefarious reason and might also be the one to blame for the death that led to them getting arrest and – quite possibly – the one from today.”

Your eyes widened, quite astonished that she was able to spill all that information in one swift breath. 

If the circumstances weren't quite so dire, you would also have chuckled from how she sounded like a child who was telling her strict parent on her misbehaving sibling.

Astarion was obviously offended. “Conveniently leaving out the part where I am entitled to mingling with whomever I want, and that I was completely oblivious to Ava's finding and her proposal.”

Lae'zel glanced at you. “What proposal?”

“It's fine. Don't worry. I won't go through with any of it,” you said reassuringly, placing your hand on her wrist, knowing fully well she was itching to swing her sword on him. “This is all one big mess, but he truly didn't know.”

Shadowheart growled. “You do not have to keep defending him!”

Wyll spoke before you could. “Shadowheart. I understand your indignation, but we need to move on from the constant pointless bickering. What is done is done.”

Astarion clapped thrice. “Ah! The voice of reason!”

She threw him a death glare before crossing her arms and tapping her foot irritably on the floor, but not uttering another word.

Lae'zel, on the other hand, had her narrowed eyes set on Astarion. “You are fortunate she adores that pretty head attached to your body.”

“Was that a compliment, Lae'zel?” he taunted.

“Your ability to turn any remark into an opportunity to feed your ego is truly astounding, Astarion.”

He smirked happily in response. “I do my best – or worst, depending on your taste.”

“Enough of this,” you interjected as you stared at Lae'zel. “When is Gale returning?”

She shrugged. “Unclear. He is also trying to find another contact who might help out with the Wish spell.”

“No.”

All heads turned to Astarion.

His brows knitted together. “No. No one else is getting involved until we figure out what is happening.”

Your eyes met his in mingled surprise and confusion. 

Even Shadowheart was stunned silent as her face softened.

“I thought you wanted this more than anything,” Wyll asked.

“Well, yes. But not when people are turning up dead all around me.”

Lae'zel frowned. “So, all of this for nothing? Had a sudden change of heart about your inability to walk in the sun again?”

He rolled his eyes. “Heavens forbid I'm the one pointing the moral compass in the right direction. Don't act so surprised, darling. I still know what I want and what I need to do.”

You closed the distance between you and him, worry brewing in your heart.

“Astarion, the Wish spell isn't easy to come by. It's not easy to find someone willing to teach it and Gale is a powerful wizard and strong candidate,” you said, trying to reason with him as you placed a hand on his arm. “I understand your reluctance, but we might have to wait even longer if this opportunity is disregarded.”

He didn't even flinch. “This is ultimately my choice, and I choose to wait. I've had it with others dictating how I should feel and act. This is the sensible thing to do.”

For centuries, he had belonged to everyone – to anyone – but himself. 

Both in body and mind. 

So, if this was what he truly thought was best for him, who were you to deny him of it? Maybe you would have chosen differently, but this wasn't truly about you, was it?

He would tell you otherwise, of course. That you had been the stepping stone to his healing process since the nautiloid crash, but you couldn't and wouldn't take full credit for it.

This was a joint effort and you would empower him all the way through.

“I stand with you,” you said eventually said, breaking the silence.

He gradually relaxed under your touch.

Shadowheart spoke next, “I respect your decision, Astarion. We need to see if there is a link between the two deaths. I can go ahead through the portal and ask Gale to return.”

He nodded. 

“Very well,” she said with a curt smile.

Wyll approached the door. “I will inform the guards to accompany you once dusk hits, Astarion.”

He nodded again. “Thank you.”

Lae'zel then cursed and left the room with a loud bang behind her as the door closed shut.

Your hand came to his shoulder and his crimson eyes were on you again. “Let me come with you.”

“No.”

You scowled. “I'm not some frail sorcerer. I can stand by your side and help.”

This time, he chuckled. “Sweetheart, you are more capable than most of us combined here. My reluctance doesn't stem from my lack of faith in your abilities,” he said, voice firm and collected. “If anything were to happen to you because of me, I'd never forgive myself. Allow me to handle this.”

Your heart was hammering fast in your chest from his words, and even though you wanted to argue with his decision, you held your tongue back.

In truth, you were mostly scared Ava would have something up her sleeve and hurt him. That was what was eating at your nerves.

But still, you nodded

It was settled then.

You made your way down the corridor, coming to a halt as the faint glow spilled from inside his room.

The door was open for a change.

A comforting smile curled your lips, knowing you'd find him inside.

As you approached the doorway, you spotted Astarion across the room, flicking through a few pieces of cloth placed on the round table.

You knocked twice on the wood “May I?”

He nodded. “It's your house.”

“Well, it's your room,” you retorted. “For now, at least,” you quickly added, not wanting to seem overbearing. After all, he wasn't ultimately here on his own volition.

“You don't have to keep asking,” he said with a faint smile.

Your eyes landed on his bed as you walked in, causing your heart to skip a beat.

A few hours ago, the two of you had been lost in each other's pleasure on that very same spot. Now, the bedclothes had been laid sprawled across it, no creases or any remaining proof of your earlier endeavour.

The two of you had been robbed of after care and a much needed talk about what had happened.

Even if he had seemed quite content during and after all of it, you found yourself always hung on the fear that you had rushed through it all.

So, you needed the affirmation. You needed to hear his thoughts on it and to ensure no boundaries had been crossed.

You approached the table and your gaze roamed cross the clear vials that he had placed by his twin daggers. 

Odourless.

Colourless.

Poison.

“Lethal?”

He dabbed a selected piece of cloth on the clear liquid. “No.”

An uneasy feeling began to take root. “Do you think she'll try to hurt you?”

“It would be rather foolish of her,” he mused, dragging the damp fabric along each blade, coating them in a fine layer of poison. “But I've been wrong before about people, so – as they say – better safe than sorry.”

It wasn’t the reassurance you were seeking, but Astarion was more than capable when it came to self-defence.

“Besides, she needs me more than I need her,” he concluded, inspecting the glinting blade close to his eyes. “And if she fails to provide satisfactory answers, the Fists will deal with her.”

You nodded, but still failing to push your fear aside. “What if there is really someone after us? What if she's not connected to any of this?”

You had purposefully let out the faint implication that maybe there was a connection to Cazador. He didn't need to be troubled with that in case Ava was bluffing. 

Astarion sheathed both daggers on either side of his waist before his eyes landed on you. “If that is the case, then she will tell me who it is. And she better have a godsdamned good justification for why she thought I would allow you to be involved.”

You absentmindedly bit your lip and he smiled warmly, coming to stand in front of you, wiping his hands clean from any trace of poison.

Silently, he leaned to press a lingering kiss on your forehead, his cool lips making you flinch slightly.

It was as if a surge of lightning had been cast throughout your body, setting you alight.

“About earlier…” you said, swallowing your nervousness.

He traced your jawline with his thumb before tipping your head back so you could properly meet his gaze.

“Darling, already back for another round?”

You broke into laughter. “No! No… that wasn't what I trying to say.”

He tapped your nose lovingly and it was as if the two of you were long-time lovers, used to each other's teases and mannerisms.

Your heart skipped yet another beat.

“I know. Just couldn't miss the opportunity to have you all flustered for me again,” he said with a devious grin. “But do go on.”

“I just want to make sure… it was alright… what we did, I mean,” you said in a whisper.

Astarion's brows furrowed together. “I thought that was pretty much evident…”

A lump swelled in your throat.

You truly didn't want to overstep any lines.

But you had to know. You had to hear it.

“I am talking about… up here,” you said, pressing a finger softly to his temple. “I… just want to make sure you're truly fine. That we're truly fine.”

You held your breath for a moment, dreading a worrisome reply.

He caught hold of your hand and pressed your finger to his lips. “I will always tell you if it's too much.”

A wave of relief washed over you and you allowed yourself to breathe normally.

Still…

You swallowed again. “Promise?”

“I promise, sweetheart,” he said, using your own finger to tap the tip of your nose, earning a heartfelt giggle from you. 

“So… it wasn't too much?”

“No,” he said truthfully.

You nodded as he gripped your chin. “How did it feel?”

He paused for a while, pondering. “It felt… right.”

Your stomach turned and your heart sped up from how close he was to you.

How close he felt to you.

“I want to kiss you,” he said all of a sudden. “May I?”

You felt as though you would melt into a puddle from how desperate he sounded.

“You don't have to always ask,” you said truthfully.

He then pressed his cool lips to the corner of your mouth and you instinctively gasped. “I just adore the sound of your voice when you let me in.”

His lips moved to the opposite side, lingering there, and a rush of heat pooled in your cheeks.

“May I kiss you, darling?” he asked once more, pulling back just enough for his lips to barely touch yours. “May I taste you?”

Gods…

“Please do.”

He didn't need to be told twice.

The kiss started off slow at first as his lips molded into yours. But as soon as you made way for his tongue to slide inside, Astarion became the image of hunger.

He cradled your face in his hands and pressed both thumbs on your chin, so you'd open up wider for him.

A flash of memory filled your mind and you recalled how he used to do the same whenever you were on your knees, struggling to fit his thick cock in your mouth.

“You can take more of me, can't you, my sweet?” he'd say, voice dripping with lust.

You'd always struggle at first. Always. But he was such a caring lover and he would always ensure you took your time.

You quickly shuddered as your clit began throbbing evenly. 

His tongue was as relentless against yours as his cock had once been, but his eagerness and hunger had his razor-like fang nip at your lower lip, drawing blood.

“Shit,” you groaned from the sharp sting.

Astarion immediately pulled back and you stared at him in confusion.

You felt a few drops dribbling down your chin.

Why wasn't he tasting you?

His eyes were fixed on your lips and his eyes narrowed with bloodlust.

“You're letting it go to waste?” you asked, swiping your finger across the bleeding wound.

He swallowed with a strained smile. 

Oh, he was struggling to hold back…

“Well, darling… I don't intend on leaving the house with my cock hard with your blood.”

You clenched so hard you felt a gush of wetness being squeezed out.

But there was only so much Astarion could withstand, so you couldn't fight the moan that tore through your throat as he placed the softest kiss to your lip.

“Just before I go,” he whispered. “So I can take you with me.”

You clenched again and you could feel your clit swell up with each throb.

He eventually parted from you, licking his blood-stained lips as his eyes held that lustful gaze you adored.

“I'll be back soon.”

You were left petrified in place as he swiftly made his way out.

It wasn’t fair how soaked you were.

How soaked he had left you.

You glanced over your shoulder and realised the door had been left open all along and you rushed to the window, tugging on the curtain.

The sun had set as he appeared down below, followed closely by two Fists.

And the single mage slayer.

The three of them trailed after his steps and darted off into the distance.

And you realised that without a mage slayer around to keep your magic at bay, you could simply vanish.

You glanced at the vials of poison on the nearby table and smiled.

TBC

Series masterlist

Ao3

[moonstruckme]

hi, how are you?

really move your writing, it has def helped me through tough times, so thank you for that so much, I cannot tell you how much appreciation I carry for you

I was wondering, since you are okay with writing about self harm scars (I think, if I understand your list or off-limit request stuff correctly, if not, sorry, then just ignore this) if you would maybe write something with Sirius x reader, where maybe r isn’t feeling all that great abt her scars (preferably on her thighs, but if not also totally fine) and Sirius draws on them and reassures her and all that stuff

Hope you have a great day, sending you lots of love

Sending love back angel <3

cw: past self harm, discussion of scars

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 922 words

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“Gorgeous, you can cut the shit. We both know I’m a modern Poussin.” 

You smile, radiant in the sunlight spilling into your sitting room. You came here to read, but Sirius was hellbent on distracting you, and as always he’s succeeded. Your book has been long since closed, the two of you lazing the day away with kisses and go-nowhere conversations while Sirius draws on your skin in black ink. 

“You’ve just said some obscure artist to show off,” you accuse. “You know I don’t know who that is.” 

“Yes, well, two can play at the game of belittlement.” 

Sirius is quite obviously drawing clouds. They live in the crook of your elbow, and they’re perfectly nebulous. You’re only pretending not to know because you enjoy playing with him. Luckily for you, Sirius enjoys letting you. 

“Is there going to be a sun?” you ask after a while. 

“Don’t need one. That’s you already, sunshine.” 

You make a phony groaning sound, clearly delighted. “You’re so cheesy.” 

“I know. See what you’ve done to me?” Sirius grins, tilting his head up for a kiss. 

You indulge him. You’re in an indulgent mood, all sun-warmed and languorous, reclining against the cushions like a goddess. You wouldn’t likely let him doodle all over you otherwise. Sirius is taking advantage of a rare opportunity. 

He goes back to work, adding some raindrops and then stars trailing up your arm. He thinks you’re dozing, but when Sirius turns to look at you again your expression has gone solemn. You’re looking down at your own lap like it’s a piece of gum stuck to your shoe. 

Your scars bother you, sometimes. Sirius can never really predict when those times will be—it depends on your mood, how often you’ve been thinking about them, and a slew of other things inside that lovely head of yours—but here in the sunlight he can see how you got hung up. They’re showier than usual, light and shimmery in the crease of your thighs. Faded, but there. 

Sirius puts his hand over them. Not to cover, but to caress. 

You seem to snap out of your reverie. “Sorry,” you say. 

“What for?” he asks. 

It’s a trick question and you know it. You’re silent for a time. Silence is not usually Sirius’ favorite thing, but he lets it lie, stroking his index finger over your leg. 

“I’m just,” you admit in a soft voice, “not liking them very much lately.” 

“Yeah?” He looks up at you, seeking. “Have you been feeling okay?” 

“Yeah. I have, really.” 

“You’d tell me if not?” 

You nod. Not quite looking at him, but Sirius knows that’s more evidence of shame than dishonesty. You trust him, and he trusts you. 

“I don’t think you have to like them, baby.” He kisses gently beside your chin. “I’d like it if you didn’t hate them, but I know you can’t always help it.” 

“I don’t know if I hate them.” Your eyes seem glued to where Sirius is rubbing your leg. Your voice is small. “I just…sometimes I don’t care if people see them, but other times they feel so embarrassing.” 

Sirius scoffs. “Well, that’s silly.” 

You frown. “Why?” 

“Because,” he says, uncapping his pen again. You don’t stop him when he starts drawing small flowers over and in between your lines. “I—look, you’re allowed to feel any way you want about them, okay? Obviously. But the way I see it, they’re just something that happened to you.”

Admittedly, Sirius didn’t always feel that way. When he first saw them, he’d been angry—at you, at your brain, at anyone and anything that had ever made you feel awful enough to do this to yourself—but it hadn’t taken long for that initial wrath to deliquesce into a wet, formless sorrow. Sirius doesn’t like not having anyone to blame. He likes thinking of the people he loves hurting even less. But it was a reality for you at one time, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it now. All Sirius wants now is to keep enough light in your present that maybe someday it washes out the past. It may never happen, but he can hope. And he can hold your hand no matter what.

He twines the fingers of his free hand loosely with yours, making looping lines for petals on your leg. 

“I don’t like that they did happen,” he admits, “but I don’t like that I broke my arm in fourth year either.” He senses your eyes going to the scar on his forearm. Once large and long, but now faded. “Nothing we can really do about them, though.” 

You hum. “Yours was an accident.” 

“I know,” Sirius murmurs. He looks at you. “I know they’re not the same thing, baby. But I don’t think you wanted your scars any more than I wanted mine, right?” 

You hold his eyes this time, your gaze tentative but full of love. “No.” 

“Right.” He kisses you. Lingers until you soften into it, your lips parting for him. Sirius pecks the corner of your mouth once he’s done. “So, you just keep talking to me, and I’ll tell you when you have something to be embarrassed about. Okay?” 

Your smile comes almost unwillingly, your eyes slipping from his to look at the blooming garden covering your legs. “Okay,” you say. 

“There’s my girl. Now, do you think it would tickle terribly if I drew a circus on the bottom of your foot?” 

“Yes.” 

“Perfect.”

[aninipanin1]

CUPID'S ARROW HIT

100 Followers Special!

Part 1, Part 2 Coming Soon

Cupid's arrow hit ISAGI YOICHI in a normal and supposed miscellaneous interaction. It was supposed to be another day in Blue Lock, one filled with training and the usual schedule, but unbeknownst to his past self, it will become an unforgettable day. A day where he saw you struggling, the schedule and pressure of being the manager of more than 200 players, all with differing personalities, playstyles, and characteristics, meaning, different approaches, perspective, and techniques. Yet, you were not phased. In fact, you seemed to enjoy it, as evident by the sparkle in your eyes that was vacant of any regrets or tiredness, especially when you interacted with the players, did chores and gave tips to them. It was like you loved the challenge and the fact that you can help him and the others. He confirmed this every time he sees the beautiful and genuine smile on your face when he and anyone else succeeds, a showing of happiness that others are succeeding because of you with no trace of even taking any credit even if you deserved it.

"You seem to enjoy the tons of work given to you, Y/n-chan."

"It isn't that I enjoy work. I enjoy it because I get to help the people whom I love."

"...Thanks. I- No, I meant...we love you too. As long as it continues, making you happy and not stressed.

Timeline: First Selection

Cupid's arrow hit BACHIRA MEGURU the moment you looked at him. It was not love at first sight, far from it. What he meant is when you first looked at him with your real eyes, with the real emotions and experience all embedded in your irises, the eyes without faux overpolitedness and professionalism. Instead, you allowed the eyes of an egoist, a dreamer, and a worker to finally take its place as you stood in front of him in that field as he did a solo practice. Your eyes, your expression, the way you quipped your mouth in thought, it all was like a beautiful story to him, a spectacle that should only be seen by those who would appreciate your hidden and true self. He always believed in the saying: "The eyes are the windows to the soul," and when he saw yours, never did he believe he will ever see a soul as beautiful and exhilirating as yours. It glowed, almost like it reflected the sun itself, full of hidden fire that you sadly cannot see yourself, which never fails to disappoint the blonde. If only you can see your own beauty, there would be many maybes that would be answered and fulfilled.

"So, you believe your ego can be achieved by helping us succeed?"

"Uhuh. I believe that someone like me is more fitting of being the mechanic than the engine."

"I like that! Did anyone ever tell you that you have the prettiest eyes ever, Y/n-chan?"

Timeline: First Selection

Cupid's arrow hit CHIGIRI HYOMA when he got a whole box to himself just for his knee care. It was not that you gave it to him because he did ask for it. However, he did remember the tone and words he used to ask you for one was not the most ideal or polite way to ask for a favour. He knew deep down that he had a not so desirable personality. He was sassy, sarcastic, and blunt to a fault, characteristics that led to a lot of people not really liking him in the past years. But, he was not a monster! He did feel really bad for how he said what he said, probably because he just woke up and did not have his breakfast at that time yet, but he knew it was no excuse. But, to his surprise, you did not seem to be offended. Quite the opposite, you were beaming the moment you gave him the box and excitedly showed him everything that was in the said box. Your patience and kindness made his heart beat up a little faster than usual.

"And then I added a few more cooling packs just in case...and um that's all!"

"You really outdid yourself, huh? Sorry, I was being a little rude when I asked you for this."

"Rude? You were..?"

"Pfft- hahahaha, you're the most clueless person I know when it comes to tones and emotions, Y/n-chan. That's why I think being with you is really calming and pleasant, you know? You rarely stress yourself over something, it's amazing."

Timeline: Second Selection (Still with Kunigami and Reo)

Cupid's arrow hit KUNIGAMI RENSUKE the moment he saw you happily and cutely eating and enjoying your lunch time. It was a rather tame and boring display if you asked any other person. But, in his eyes, it was quite adorably how your cheeks inflated to accommodate the food you kept inserting in your mouth. It showed him a much more vulnerable side to your usual professional and intellectual approach to your work around them and the facility. It also eases his chest up when he sees you rest and have time for yourself, he loves your help and is always thankful for it, but he also knew how important it is to have time for oneself to rest and rethink about everything. Besides, cozy and comfortable you is quite adorable in his eyes, especially when you are all small and swallowed up in your seat, mindlessly eating in a ball, hugging your legs.

"Never change, Y/n-chan."

"Huh? What are you talking about, Kunigami-san?"

"Heh, I meant, to not change your habits. Youre really cute this way, Y/n-chan."

"Hmm...I'll take that as a compliment I guess."

Timeline: First Selection

Cupid's arrow hit BAROU SHOEI the moment you offered to help him clean up the room, his teammates left behind (ahem Nagi and Chigiri ahem). It was not just because he deemed your cleaning skills worthy or impressive (it was one of the reasons, yes), but the main reason was definitely the calm look on your face as you picked up the dirty socks and scattered shoes around the room. Your face screamed the opposite of annoyance, an expression he expected but was proven wrong. Most don't really like the notion of cleaning up others' mess, but your patience and thoughtfulness definitely made him raise an eyebrow. After all, if he was in your position, having to take care of guys your age who could not even care for their own space, he would be ready to throw all their things at their faces. But, he was not you, and he was a little curious about what goes inside your mind for you to act the way you do.

"You're too patient. Let them clean the mess they made."

"It's nothing, Barou-san. Besides, I know you all are tired from training, this is the least I can do."

"Tsk, you're too kind. People are going to use that, you know?"

"Hmm, I'd let them be. Its their loss and conscience when they decide to use my goodwill. I'm the one who'll get the points for staying kind anyway."

"...Whatever." (He was secretly blown away by your answer, though)

Second Selection (4 man team with Isagi, Chigiri and Nagi)

Cupid's arrow hit NIKO IKKI when the barriers of the awkward stage finally let itself down between the two of you, creating moments where you two would talk for hours on end when it came to similar likes and dislikes. The moment you started to talk about his favourite mangas or praise all his favourite ice cream flavours, Niko was convinced you were his soulmate of sort. Cringy, most would say, but to him, it was more than natural, like it was meant to be. And just as he thought that you could not win his heart even more, you had the audacity to comment that you found his messy bangs and eyes adorable when you managed to get a peek of them? The eyes he was insecure about and thought too intense due to him listening and taking in the words from his bully from the past? Those eyes...?

"I have pretty eyes? Me...?"

"Yeah! Why do you sound unsure?"

"Well, because it's really ugl- nevermind...its nothing."

2 week break after the U-20 match

Cupid's arrow hit NAGI SEISHIRO in such a mundane yet intimate moment, a window in time where domesticity felt something akin that of a melancholic nostalgia as he looked at you, watching your cute and miniscule frustration at a simple game that you were currently playing on his switch. The current look of concentration mixed with frustration, a look that he had not seen on your face before, made the organ in his chest agitated. Why? Was it because of the beautiful contrast the lighting of the gadget gave to your face, making you look like a celestial being? Or maybe even the way you trusted him enough to lay your weight on his arm and shoulder as your full attention was on the game? He did not care. He thought it was too much of a hassle to even find the reason. After all, he liked the feeling, so the meaning was pretty much irrelevant, right?

"Nagi-san, how do you do this level?"

"..."

"Nagi-san?"

"...Huh? What did you say?"

2 week break after the U-20 Match

Cupid's arrow hit MIKAGE REO more and more every time he hears or sees your responsible and patient personality shine. Yes, you were indeed beautiful, but so were other girls, but with your mix of kindness, beauty, intelligence, and the ay you carried your responsibilities both professionally and emotionally was the reason why his head will turn your way again and again with no fail. Specifically, your kindness. It was a different type of kindness, one that he had never felt before due to how its roots are just your innocent desire to help everyone around you, with nothing in return. In this dog-eat-dog world, nothing is for free anymore. It is either you pay or return the favour, which was fair, but you, your presence, and gentleness were unconditional which was a breath of fresh air, especially towards someone like him who was used to conditionings.

"Y/n-chan! Let me help you with that!"

"Eh? It's fine Mikage-san-"

"I insist, for once, let me repay your kindness, even if it's unconditional."

Neo Egoist League

Cupid's arrow hit ITOSHI RIN the moment you approached him after the long break of the players from the facility, expressing to him that you found his play in the end of the U-20 match his most mesmerising play compared to his usual elegant ones. That you loved his original playstyle, his original ego, much more beautiful, much more him, like he was free from the clutches of anything in the world. He did not understand it. His brother looked at him in that certain moment like he was a disgusting monster, to which he did not care, but he did believe that. He was ready to play the villain as long as he got to beat his rivals. However, you embraced that monstrosity, that horrific, mangled ego of his just because it was him, compared to his once elegant playstyle that tried to copy his elder brother's ways. And for once, the princess embraced the big, bad, and ugly monster instead of the powerful hero, finding its fangs and horns beautiful.

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"I know its disgusting. You don't have to hide it, I don't care if you find it that. Victory is all that matters to me anyways."

"No. It's not disgusting. To me, it's your statement to the world that you're not Itoshi Sae's little brother, but Itoshi Rin. It's who you are, Rin-san, and whoever finds it hideous or disgusting is boring for wanting someone to just fit in their box of expectations."

Neo-Egoist League.

Cupid's arrow hit ITOSHI SAE in one normal, albeit chilly Thursday evening in Spain. He just got home from his practice as he cosied up on his bed, typing away on his phone, eyes waiting patiently for you to send a reply on each question and input he asked. He had friends before, even as a young kid, although scarce, he was not exactly a loner. However, due to his cold responses and dry knowledge about anything other than football made him a victim of being the odd one out in his friend group most of the time, with all of his so-called 'friends' not putting any effort to include or even try to understand what he says or does, just continuing on with whatever they were saying or doing, making it feel like a secret code where he was the only not included in. To which the redhead did not have any problem with, used to being alone and independent, but to see you actively try to understand his points of view and to even teach him the silliest things you knew just so he would not be lost in whatever conversations you both may have made his cold heart feel somewhat warmer, especially in the middle of the cold night he was currently feeling.

"Are you done explaining what that guy's power is now? You didn't have to type out a whole 500 word essay for me to understand who he is."

"Sorry, Sae-san T_T, but now that you know, I can continue my story!"

"Whatever. Go on."

Neo-Egoist League

Had to cut it in half since there are like 20 plus of them I will write but then my phone started lagging lmao, next part wil be up soon! Thank you again for more than 100 followers!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[nocasdatsgay]

First Winter Solstice: A Neapolitan Bonds Fic

Rating: T | Word Count: 1611 |Pairing: Reader/Eris/Azriel |

Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist | Read on A03 | Read Below

Summary: You convince Az and Eris to let you decorate the Forest House for Winter Solstice as new Lady of Autumn.

A/N: Happy belated Solstice. I decided to whip this up I since I was getting in the grove of writing again. I will update the wips before new years (I hope). I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday this week :D

Tagging: @mybestfriendmademe @pit-and-the-pen @hieragalbatorixdottir @thisblogisaboutabook @lilah-asteria @daycourtofficial @ysmtttty @crazylokonugget @st4r-girl-official @tele86 @stargirlrchive @laughterafter @scarsandallaz @bobbyisbored @chaos-on-stand-bi @romantastyreaser28 @laylagrace403 @skysayshi If I missed you or tagged you by accident let me know.

You laid out the floor plans in front of your mates in Eris’s office, both of them staring at the stack of scrolls. Eris was the first to move, picking up one roll,opening it, and eyeing it skeptically. You waited, hardly controlling your excitement. Your anxiety spiked however when Eris frowned. 

“You’re decorating every floor of the house?” 

“Well. Yes. But I promise it’s not as excessive as it looks.” A lie. “I planned on taking the Mabon and Equinox decorations and repurposing them. I swear I stayed under my budget.”

That made Az chuckle.

Eris, however, turned even more serious. “Who gave you a budget?” 

“I-“ his anger was palpable and you froze up, eye stinging. “I’m sorry I just. I gave myself a budget so you wouldn’t worry-“ 

“Yourself?” Eris studied you for a moment. “And no one told you to do it?”

“No.” You replied slowly. 

“Thank the gods,” Eris instantly relaxed. “I thought I would have to murder Farron.” Your confusion must have been evident. His gaze softened. “My love. You are the Lady of this court. Your word is equal to mine and Azriel’s. No one is to tell you what you can and cannot do.” 

Right. You were still getting used to it. Even mentally preparing didn’t actually help. You were used to working in the background and now? Not even been mated for half a year and advisors were asking you for opinions and orders. Which was part of the reason you had a stack of plans for the winter solstice. 

“So, does this seem reasonable?” You asked meekly. 

Eris shrugged and looked at Az. “That’s more your call.” 

“It should be fine,” Az brushed his hair back with his hand, stretching out his wings. “I trust you. Don’t think it’s lost on me you brought this up right before we head to the continent.” 

He gave you that smirk that still made your heart flutter. “I wanted it to be some of a surprise.” You shrugged, face heating. 

“As long as you don’t burn the Forest House down, I think it will be fine,” Eris got up and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “I have a meeting with the advisors. I’ll see you at dinner.” 

You waited until he left to squeal and dance in your seat. “Oh you’re both going to love it I promise.” 

“You know you’re cute when you're happy.” Az looked you over, his hazel eyes glinting. “Come here, baby.” 

You knew exactly what he was planning but playfully rolled your eyes and got on his lap. You made sure to magically lock the door first. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

While Eris and Az were on the continent you kept yourself busy managing court and decorating. Autumn wasn’t big on the Winter Solstice. Being close to the border of Winter, some villages in the North were more festive than where you were. That made it easier to obtain some items you needed. It took a week but the decorations were finished the day before they returned. 

The day of their return you were full of jitters. You needed everything to be perfect. Especially since it was the night before the Winter solstice itself. The weather seemed to be cooperating, snow lightly falling as you waited outside on the steps for them to arrive. You wrote they had to come in through the front so you could show them in. The sun had set by the time you went out to greet them. 

You were bundled up in your furs, one of the smoke hounds, Bronte sitting by you patiently. The moment they winnowed in, his tail wagged and thumped on the steps. Eris clicked his tongue and Bronte shot off to them, having permission to jump and yelped. You laughed behind your hand as they both took turns giving him pets. 

“Did you watch over Y/N?” Eris asked, scratching his ear. 

“He was the best boy,” you grinned and Bronte barked. “Come on, it’s cold!” You dramatically shivered. 

“This is nothing,” Az grinned. “If anything this is warm to me.”

You tugged on his bond playfully. When they reached the top of the steps, you opened the door to the entrance hall. 

Az’s face lit up with a grin at the sight of the tinsel and garland running down along the walls. 

“This is nice,” he replied. You took his hand. 

“Close your eyes. I’ll walk you. There’s a surprise.”

You looked over at Eris who pretended to close his eyes but opened them to look around. You felt his bond hum with approval as you both guided Az down the hall. Az didn’t know you’d been planning this with Eris since Autumn Equinox. You had to bribe the shadows- well, you blocked them when you’d meet and talk and scold any that eavesdropped. It seemed they listened. 

Eris as High Lord never had time to make an extravagant deal about the Winter Solstice. Not in a way he felt his mate deserved. So when you asked, he immediately gave you plans he’d sat on for nearly a decade. Those same floor plans he pretended to look at a week ago. You added things, ordered the decorations with the help of Farron. Now was the moment of truth. 

You led them into the throne room and squeezed his hand. “Okay you can look now.” 

Whatever Az expected, it wasn’t what he saw. His smile faltered, true shock taking over his features. The whole throne room had multi-colored fae lights, several large evergreens placed by the windows, and garland and tinsel on the walls. His breath hitched when he saw who was standing by the fireplace and one of the trees. His mother, Feyre, Nyx, Rhysand, Cassian, and Nesta were all waiting patiently. 

Nyx, seeing his uncle’s eyes were opened, was jumping, wings flapping excitedly. “Are you surprised?!” 

“I think he is bud,” Rhys gave you all an apologetic look. 

“Wait,” Az looked at you then Eris. “You were in on this?” 

“It was his plan originally.” You grinned, squeezing his hand and tugging the bond. “I just worked my magic.” 

“She invited them,” Eris replied. You were quickly learning with you and Az, he was somewhat humble. You rolled your eyes and he added. “But I knew they’d be here.” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Az muttered. His eyes looked a little watery. “You know I- it’s not-“

“Come on, we have presents to open.” You tugged his hand. He gave you a small smile in return for cutting in. 

Chairs appeared. You all spent the next hour chatting, passing around presents. You joked that this was Az’s present from you before handing him a wrapped box. You then had Greta, one of the maids who’d been helping you all week, bring tea. You slipped her a gift of her own as you took the trays. Eventually Nyx got restless. He started to run around the room letting shadows and Bronte chase him. His laughter echoed as did Bronte’s little barks. 

Feyre chuckled. “He’s almost 14 and he still has the energy of a toddler.” 

“He can use that energy to chase this one for me.” Nesta rubbed her stomach. She showed more than when you last saw her, the loose dress draping around her bump. “Not even big enough to fully show and they’re already kicking the shit out of me.” 

“Now why ever would anyone do that you?” Rhys muttered. 

“Don’t worry Nes. I’ll teach them to kick Rhys in the shins as soon as they walk,” Cassian gave his mate a kiss while she flipped off Rhys. 

It was late when everyone left. Az promised Feyre and Rhys they’d see them tomorrow for her birthday dinner. He also convinced his mother to stay the night and they’d winnow her home after the dinner. 

“Thank you,” Az said later in your rooms. “You didn’t have to do all that.” 

“I did too. I like the Winter Solstice. And it’s your tradition.” You shrugged. “It really was Eris’s plans.” 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Eris waved a hand at Az, who was in fact looking at him like that. “Don’t get used to it either. Next year it won’t be a surprise.”

“You’re doing this next year?” He asked, looking between the two of you. 

“If you want. Then you’ll have a whole week to enjoy the decorations instead of one day.” You smiled, pleased with yourself. “We’re a multi-cultural court now. We’re celebrating all the holidays. I’m planning The Breaking Of Dawn’s New Year as we speak.” 

“I conveniently forgot about that,” Eris muttered. 

“Says the fae male up at dawn most days anyways,” you shot him a playful look. “It’ll be fun. Thesan is sending me Dawn grapes and I have the morning feast already prepped.” 

“What are the grapes for?” Az tilted his head slightly, wings scrunching in slightly. 

“You eat 12 grapes for each month. It brings luck.” You yawned. You glanced at the clock and exhaustion hit you hard. “But can we talk about it tomorrow? I love you but I’m tired.” 

Az immediately stepped up and swept you off your feet. You yelped and Eris laughed loudly. 

“What?” Az asked as he carried you to the bed. “You said you were tired.” 

You wanted to argue and yet your mind went blank as soft brushes of shadows ran through your hair. 

“Not fair,” you muttered, your eyes suddenly feeling heavy. 

Az just hummed. You didn’t hear what else he or Eris had to say, shadows muffling sound as they put you to bed and let you drift off to sleep. 

[amourcheol]

agrodolce (teaser)

❝Because you cannot create perfection without a little tension.❞

rivals to lovers! au | fluff | approx. 20k words

s u m m a r y : one would expect being a dessert chef to be a life filled with sugary goodness, but nothing is sweet when working alongside boo seungkwan. when the two of you are forced to create a special dessert for the winter menu together, you think the restaurant will burn down. late night planning, shopping mall snooping, and a simple dessert might just save you from your expectations.

c o n t e n t : dessert chef! mc, dessert chef! seungkwan, rivals to lovers! au but i'm keeping it tame so i don't lose my mind, they bicker a lot obviously, head chef! jeonghan who is sick of his employees, seungkwan is leading the sassy man apocolypse, flatmate! julie from kiss of life who wants to be santa, lots of mentions of italian desserts, litttle bits of tension, making out but no smut because im fearing god again, more tba!!

p l a y l i s t : candy by seventeen || chocolate by seventeen || daawat-e-ishq by sajid-wajid || strawberry sunday by dojaejung

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld (send an ask if you wish to be tagged <3)

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : this fic will be part of the @camandemstudios 'Winter with You' collab! please do check out the other fics when they are released! thank you em and cam for inviting me to be a part of this project!! i will defo yap more once i release the full fic but anyway pls enjoy the teaser <33

back to masterlist

“OH NO,” YOU SAID IN GREETING AS YOU ENTERED, QUICKLY STEPPING PAST HIM AS HE CLOSED THE DOOR. “WHAT’S THAT LOOK FOR?”

Mingyu chuckled a little, tightening his apron’s bow on his back. “Seungkwan’s been waiting at your station for thirty minutes.”

A curse escaped you, furthering his amusement. “How mad is he?”

“He shouted at me for the lack of ricotta in the pantry.” 

You scrunched your brows in shame, widening your lips in a line. “That’s on me. I threw it at him the other day.”

Although he shook his head, he said, “Tell me it hit his face, at least.”

“Right on target.”

Hearing his laughter behind you, you dashed to the cloakroom, quickly changing into your uniform. Tossing your bag in the small lockers, you exited, finding yourself in the familiar surroundings of the dessert station. 

From the last time you had been in this side of the kitchens, the place had been the victim of your vicious food fight with Seungkwan, stained with sauces, powdered with flour, and littered with different nuts and sprinkles from the pantry. Now, the floors and tables were spotless, all evidence of your petty rage disappeared into your memories. 

Unfortunately, the cleaners could not make the sole reason for your anger disappear. He stood, back hunched to you, like a nasty stain upon your domain, refusing to be wiped away. You could not help your glower towards his figure, a small hope that you would develop lasers for eyes and smite him off the station.

“What’re you glaring at me for? You’re the one who’s late.” 

Jerking your head back at his voice, you twisted your lips downwards, walking towards him. “You don’t know that,” you challenged, sneaking a look at what he focused on—a notebook, with messy scribbles written in black ink. 

“I do, because you’re glaring at me as we speak.” He glanced up at you. “See?” 

It was a little pitiful now, trying to school your face into neutrality. “Whatever,” you muttered, taking out your own notepad, setting it on the steel tops. “And for the late thing, rush hour spares no one.”

“Yet the entire staff managed to come early,” he said, a certain, condescending ease in his tone which made your glower darken. “We’re lucky that Jeonghan’s helping us with desserts in the next coming weeks, or we would have been screwed.” 

“Jeonghan’s coming?” you asked, genuinely surprised. You were aware that he was trialling a few dessert chefs to deal with the restaurant’s rush period, but did not expect the big boss to turn up at the stations.

“He wants us to focus on ‘team collaboration’,” he iterated, exaggerating the latter words in air quotes, “As well as ‘building our professional relationship’.” 

“Jesus,” you could only say, dreading the near future for what it held for the two of you. Jeonghan was either the dumbest person to grace this restaurant, or enjoyed fucking with his employees for work-place entertainment. 

A glimpse of the clock. “We’re due for starting up in a couple of hours, so we better start thinking up ideas now.” You looked down at the pages of your notebook, a few ideas already jotted down that needed further exploration. “Since we’re only doing one dessert, this shouldn’t take us more than a week to decide.”

Seungkwan’s mouth twisted in a sneer. “Yeah, if you’re just handing a scoop of gelato to them.”

That particular comment had you craning your head back. “You have to be braindead to take two months to come up with one item.”

“You must be putting anything in your customer’s plates then,” was his sour response, “To only need a week to create a luxury food.”

A sharp sigh escaped you. “What grand plans do you have for the public then?”

Picking up his notebook, he brushed a finger past the page. “Right…so we already have the standard tiramisu and gelato variations. We should definitely incorporate a sugary pastry since we’ve been lacking in the previous quarter.” 

“Pastry,” you mumbled. He was talking pure, unadulterated shit. Chocolate Bignè was the permanent item on the summer menu—little, indulgent profiteroles that melt into the taster’s mouth. Apart from that, the generic selection of cannolis and bomobolini doughnuts were already sold at the till within the cafe section outside, so another addition of the pastry was not needed.

Perhaps your thoughts projected upon your face, because the boy was incredulous. “And what’s so wrong about pastries?”

“It’s been done too many times.” You showed him the previous menu, which he had before him. “We should do something different.” 

“And what would that ‘different’ be?”

You scoured your page, latching onto the words of strong flavours. “Stray from the sweets this time. I’ve been wanting to experiment with a few flavours, and I think that bitter amarettis will be big this winter.”

Mentioning the Italian macarons did not bode well. “Bitter amarettis? Are you insane?”

Instantly you crowed, “The Sarano branch is actually very popular ‘cause they’re smaller and easier to eat after a meal. We can flavour them with coffee or almonds.”

“No.”

The sudden dismissal was enough for you to argue your case. “It’s better than a goddamn doughnut!”

“Fine.” He clutched his notebook tighter. “Let’s drop the pastry. How about a pannacotta?”

Pannacotta—sweet cream dessert thickened and moulded with gelatin. Not your first choice, but its greatest advantage was its range of flavours that it accommodated.

You decided to try your luck once more. “We can do something with that.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, thinking of any flavours that were not simply sugar sprinkled on cream. “I’ve experimented with bay leaves before. We can add one or two to add a lime-like essence.”

The man scrunched his nose at the notion. “My God. Were you thrown against the wall as a child?”

That morbid image had you scoffing. “I had an amazing childhood, thank you. Why are you so against it already?”

“Pannacotta is a sweet dessert, _____. I’m not adding fucking leaves on a delicacy.”

“Adding herbs on certain confectionery is actually a luxury trait. You learn this in culinary school.”

Once again, the idea was immediately cut for another. “We should add cinnamon to it.” He pointed towards his notebook. “A nod towards the coming Christmas.” 

“Cinnamon?” you parrotted. “A sweet flavouring on an already sweetened cream? Do you want to rot our customers’ teeth?

“Oh, what do you suggest then?” He let out a harsh scoff. “Coffee for the millionth time?”

“Well, actually—” you were about to make an incredible point, but your partner began to groan, cutting you off. “Hey, coffee is versatile, and you know it!”

Seungkwan looked to the side, as if there was an invisible camera he could make a face to. “Here comes the anti-sweet agenda.”

Your sharp exhale was loud enough to gain his unpleasant attention. “If you had your way, all our customers would have type 2 diabetes!”

“Well sorry that I don’t want my customers as bitter as you are!” he exclaimed. “It’s beyond me how you became a dessert chef!” 

“It’s called having range, dumbass!” you shouted right back, unwilling to relent. “My skills go beyond just dumping a load of sugar and calling it a dessert!”

He slapped his notebook on the desk, leaning in. “I said to have cinnamon because it’s bloody Christmas. My bad if you like to Grinch it up every year.”

“You want to show Christmas through cinnamon, huh?” You huffed a laugh in his face. “Wow, Seungkwan, how original! I might as well put a fucking christmas hat on top of our tiramisu. Fuck it, let’s start singing a Christmas carol while we serve it since you want to be on theme so much!”

Seungkwan’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want fucking leaves in a dessert.”

You matched his anger. “Well, I don’t want you in this process, but we can’t always have what we want.” 

A tilt of his head, the locks framing his forehead sliding along. “I wasn’t dying to work with you either, dearest.”

Dearest. That pissed you off even further. “Then find a way to deal with it,” you seethed. 

“I could say the same thing to you.”

You pursed your lips, at a loss for words. The man stared into the rising rage of your gaze, his own agitation reflected clearly. He was watching you intently, words dying on his lips, only inhaling and exhaling sharply. Had he been a few inches closer, his huffed anger would have fanned your face, truly taste how he felt about this entire situation.

But that was the last thing you wanted, and so you could only match his displeasure. 

“I’m not losing my job because of you,” you warned.

His eyes darted all over your face before he deigned to reply to you. “And you think I want to be fired?”

The quirk of your mouth upwards had his nostrils flaring. “If you act like an asshole, Seungkwan, that’s exactly what you deserve.”

“Why do you get to be the judge of that?” he scoffed out.

“I won’t. Jeonghan will see through you soon enough.”

[vidavalor]

Petition: Fire Neil Gaiman

Please consider signing the petition below that I created this morning since it seems that we have not yet formally asked for this to happen and it must. I've included the petition text here as well:

We, the fan community of Good Omens, are calling on Amazon to fire Neil Gaiman and replace him with a new showrunner for Season 3. 

After several days of digesting the abhorrent abuses of power to which Gaiman self-admits guilt, it is evident that the values of this long-running community are not reflected by Mr. Gaiman. Many of us are sexual assault survivors ourselves and all of us are allied with those who are. We feel very strongly that we cannot financially support Good Omens with Mr. Gaiman still in a position of power within it and are calling for his immediate dismissal.

As a decades-old fandom who has long-since proven reach and spending power, we feel confident that Amazon will see the value in producing more Good Omens the way we request: with Mr. Gaiman gone from the process. 

Thank you. 

[reiderwriter]

You'd Be Like Heaven To Touch♣️

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Female Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: After a whirlwind weekend, you're finally ready to go home and deal with the mess you created in Vegas. But you just cannot get your new Husband out of your head.

Warnings: Oral sex (F receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, no mention of birth control, and you're going to hate me by the end of this sex scene bye

A/N: They're officially out of Vegas! I'm so excited to share the next few parts with you guys, and we finally got our first taste of smut!! Also, the Reid in the gif is the exact one I'm picturing in this scene so yeah 🤡 smirk and all 😏

Here's the series masterlist, and my general masterlist!~

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The race back to the hotel was easy compared to the ensuing rush to pack up an entire hotel room's worth of mess in the time between their arrival and their check-out time. Sure, they’d had to pack light as travelling FBI agents, but with the added mess you’d created in Spencer’s room, and the additional luggage of their marriage licence, the packing was needlessly more frantic than usual. 

When you finally did make it down to the lobby, you froze up a little, realising that you were the final one to exit your room. You watched as seven pairs of eyes shifted to you as soon as the elevator door opened, hauling your go-bag further up your arm from where it was slipping down. You thanked your past self for having the foresight to put some makeup into the bag, having used up a copious amount of your concealer to cover up any evidence of your night with Reid. You still kept a small distance from the others, just in case.

“Sorry, were you all waiting for me?” you smiled at them as you got closer, hoping that they’d not ask questions at what had taken you so long. Your eyes caught Reid’s and you could see that he was looking down at your neck. 

After an entire day morning and night in your company, you knew he’d seen the results of his handiwork. You wondered if the look that raked over you now was that of the dominant Reid from the night before, who you presumed marked you in such prominent places so people would know you were his, or that of the concerned team mate, who didn’t want to be caught and questioned by the others. You tried to shake both images from your head, not sure which would please you more. 

“It’s okay, you’re not late, the cars are being bought around now and the jet leaves in 30,” Hotch greeted you when you finally got close enough. 

“Late night, mama?” Morgan laughed at you as soon as he turned to you. “How did all that drinking last night go for you?” 

You were so wrapped up in Reid and what he may or may not be thinking that you had to pull yourself back to reality for a second to realise that Morgan had been talking to you. 

“What? Oh yeah, I guess. I don’t think I drank too much, but I did sleep like a baby, so who knows.” You laughed a little to punctuate the point, and then watched Morgan’s reaction closely. You were still looking for the two “agents” who had been witness to your marriage, after all. 

“Ooh, you didn’t sample the local goods last night then? I’ve heard that Downtown Las Vegas is the best place to meet single men, and you were just complaining that you hadn’t been out in a while,” Penelope said from beside the man. 

“No, no, the place Reid took me to was more library than bar, and as far from Downtown as you could get, so it was a nice and easy night for me.” 

“And if the local men are anything like our resident Las Vegan,” Emily jumped in, looking at Reid. “Then I’m sure they’re not really what Y/N is looking for.” She laughed and they all start making their way out of the lobby. 

You try to avoid meeting Reid’s eyes after that last comment, sure that you wouldn’t be able to stop the grimace of apology from coming to your lips. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you forced your eyes up into a small peak at his face, only to see his downturned eyes and the small smirk that was crossing his lips. 

You hung back for a second, needing to clue this out, and nudged him with your elbow. 

“What’s that look for?” you whisper at him in a harsh tone, hoping that no one was watching the two of you. 

“It’s nothing.” He says, but the smile stays on his lips. You give him another look, silently communicating that you’re not taking that first answer and he nods a little as he walks beside you. 

“If they could see the marks on your neck, they wouldn’t be thinking that I’m not what you’re looking for, right?” You could feel the heat in your cheeks, and you playfully whacked him in the arm a bit, before pushing through the doors of the hotel and feeling the sun on your cheeks once again. 

You watched him climb into the car you took earlier and stop yourself from following him. You were going to need some time to think about how you should take that last comment, and a half an hour drive outside of his presence would probably do you good. Climbing up into the other SUV, you take a deep breath, feeling all the restlessness of the night before creep up on you.

–X–

You don’t know where you are, but you know that you’re burning up under his touch. His lips are on your skin, working their way down from your neck to the valley between your breasts and all you can hear is the sound of your own lustful moans as his hands trail further still. 

You don’t know who it is on top of you, but you know that you’re dying for him to be there, to push his tongue into your mouth and make you submit to his will. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your panties and roughly pull them down, opening you up to him. You feel his lips ghost down further still, until he’s there between your legs. 

“Is this where you wanted me, baby? So desperate to have me, my little slut.” His words send another shiver down your spine as you roll your hips up into his face again. 

He lets out a small chuckle and gives you what you want, finally lowering his tongue again and letting it meet your desperate cunt. He sets his attention on your clit, and your eyes roll back in bliss, not caring who it is between your legs giving you this much pleasure, just desperate for them to keep going. 

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, fisting a handful of your mystery man’s hair. It’s soft to the touch, a little curly at the ends and it feels familiar, but you’re unable to think about it for more than a second before he’s pushing a finger into you. 

“That’s it baby. Look at you, so fucking tight around my finger. You want me to push my cock into you, you’re going to have to relax for me baby, okay?” You still don’t know who it is, but you nod for him, knowing you want nothing except everything he’s telling you that you want. 

He’s thrusting his fingers into you at a relentless pace now, adding one digit every few thrusts, until he’s up to three. His face is still buried in your pussy, tongue still flicking against your clit, his other hand pushing you down by the hips as he forces you closer and closer to the edge. 

His hand drops down to your thigh, pushing your legs further apart, and it stays there feeling overly warm, almost burning you up from just that simple touch. 

“You’re so wet for me baby, going to take my cock now?” You whimper and nod your head as fervently as you can, begging him with your eyes to push into you. He finally pulls his head up to your own, and you’re finally face-to-face with your mystery man. 

“So wet for me, right baby? So wet for your husband?” Spencer questions you as he pushes into your wet, dripping hole, and you’re so surprised that all you can do in response is moan. 

With each thrust, he drops a moan into your ears, and you feel your climax building quickly. 

“Ah fuck yes, Y/N,” you claw at his back, desperate to pull him closer. 

“Spencer, don’t stop, fuck.” Your name begins dropping from his lips like a prayer as his thrusts get sloppier, wetter, deeper. 

“Y/N… Y/N……… Y/N….” 

–X– 

“Y/N, are you finally awake? We’ve been calling your name for a minute now.” Your eyes snap open and you come face to face with Emily and JJ from the seats opposite you on the jet. 

“We thought you might be having a nightmare. Want to talk about it?” JJ asks, her voice in a hushed tone as a look of sympathy crosses over her face. 

Whatever that was, it certainly was not a nightmare. But the scenario you were in now certainly was. 

“What? Oh, yeah. I don’t know, maybe it was a nightmare.” You desperately hope you sound convincing enough for them to drop the subject. The last time you’d mentioned a lack of sleep, half of the team had approached you with different home remedies and tips for getting your full 8 hours. The last thing you needed right now was the constant reminder that you’d just had a sex dream about Spencer Reid on the jet whilst surrounded by all your close friends and colleagues. 

Including the man himself, you realised, as you stretched your neck out from its awkward sleep position, and caught the sight of him there next to you. Your car had reached the jet first earlier that day, and it had taken all of two minutes after boarding before you’d been claimed by sleep, so you hadn’t realised he’d positioned himself next to you. 

A quick glance down had told you he’d done more than that. Wrapped around your legs, and so big that it stretched over his too, was a large blanket, the one that he usually used on your longer trips home. He was asleep in the seat next to you, you noticed after an embarrassing amount of time, head resting in one of his hands, lips slightly open, looking the image of tranquillity. 

His other hand was beneath the blanket, somewhere you couldn’t see, but as you shifted slightly in your chair trying to get comfortable again, you realised it was definitely somewhere you could feel. His hand had somehow fallen into your lap, and he had a firm but sleepy grip on your left thigh, the one closest to him. Now that you had moved, so did his hand, rubbing gentle strokes into your skin every few minutes. Slow enough that you were sure he was still asleep, but still enough to have am effect.

His hand was hot against your leg, and his touch burned. You remembered the sensation from your dream and immediately did your best to temper your facial expressions, not wanting to gather any more concern from the two women opposite you at the table than you already had. 

“Y/N? If you want to talk about it, we’re always here you know? This job can be overwhelming at the best of times, and we just worked a hard case. No one would blame you for needing to take some time for yourself.” Emily looked at you in concern now, and it was taking all of your will to keep your eyes on her, and nod at the appropriate time, your brain short-circuiting now that you realised Reid was so close. 

Where did this sudden infatuation with him come from? You’d always appreciated that he was a good looking guy, but you’d never thought about him so thoroughly before, and certainly not enough to lose yourself on the jet to inappropriate thoughts. 

It was the insanity of the weekend, you told yourself, it had to be. You’d learnt more about him and accidentally, possibly, maybe slept together, and now your body was just getting it out of your system. Either that or you’d just learnt too much about his preferences and your brain was just trying to come to terms with each revelation. 

You settled back into comfortable conversation with Emily and JJ, trying your best to convince yourself that your dream had meant nothing, blocking out any noise in your head that was suggesting otherwise. 

Especially the little thought at the back of your brain that was reminding you that you hadn’t removed his hand from your thigh, and that you really didn’t want to. 

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[gummygowon]

bingo | park seonghwa

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst + fluff, single dad!seonghwa x reader

warnings: brief mention of hwa's ex partner not being in their daughter's life

author's note: after seeing seonghwa on that one show with kids i literally cannot get dad!teez out of my head

it's been almost a month? since you've started going out with seonghwa. he was a great guy, a little older than you and was always a gentleman to you, what more could you ask for? at this point, you were waiting for seonghwa to make it official but there was just something that was holding him back. you didn't know what it was but you trusted that with time he'll tell you.

tonight, was another date night and even after all these days you still got nervous before each one. it was no different when you arrived at seonghwa's house fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.

hesitantly, you knocked on the door to reveal a disheveled looking seonghwa. his usually slicked back hair wasn't done and a few buttons on his shirt were open.

"hi," seonghwa breathes out, a tired smile on his face.

"are you okay, hwa?" you ask almost instantly, concern taking over before you notice a tiny figure waddling up behind him. big doe eyes looking up at you from behind his legs, "oh hello!"

"yeojin, go into your room really quickly. appa will be there in a second." seonghwa softly asks, the exhaustion evident in his voice. "come in, i'm so sorry. just give me a minute, things have been...chaotic."

"oh no worries." you respond empathetically, taking note of how many toys and coloring books were scattered all over the place. so he has a child? is he divorced?

before too many questions popped into your mind, seonghwa immediately began talking as he began to pick up the scattered toys. "i'm so sorry about the mess. i had to stay at the office a little longer and then i picked up yeojin late and i just haven't had time to clean up and then our babysitter canceled last minute and now-"

"hey, hey," you interrupt before seonghwa combusts from being overwhelmed. to ease the burden, you also begin to pick up the toys around the living room after you placed a hand on his back. "it's okay. don't worry about it. there's always tomorrow seonghwa."

"i know, i know but-wait. you're not mad or disgusted?" the man stops in his tracks looking at you perplexed.

"i'm a little surprised if i'm being honest. i know taking care of a child is hard and by yourself i assume is even harder. your kid is more important than anything in the world, missing one date won't kill me hwa."

seonghwa was standing still, not a sound coming out his mouth which was beginning to freak you out. did you say the wrong thing? is seonghwa yeojin's dad or? "seonghwa?"

"sorry, i'm just a little shocked. not a lot of people are very happy when they find out they've been going out with a single dad." seonghwa lightly jokes trying to ease the tension in the air. "thank you though. it means a lot. really."

"of course," you smile at him.

a door opens to reveal a tiny yeojin peeking out from what you presumed to be her room.

"hey bubba, what's up." seonghwa asks, his voice becoming much softer.

she doesn't say much but instead pads over to the coffee table and attaches herself to her dad. "can we draw?"

"of course bubs. let appa go get the markers."

"i can get them." you say faster than seonghwa gets up to which he directs you over to one of the drawers in the living room.

upon your arrival, seonghwa has a bluey coloring book out for yeojin. crutching down to reach the table, you gasp softly at the blue dog. "is that bluey?"

yeojin nods her head shyly, a small smile appearing on her face as seonghwa looks up at you in surprise.

"ahh, i love bluey! who's your favorite character?" you ask watching yeojin point to the smaller, light colored dog.

"bingo?" yeojin nods again, her smile growing even bigger. "no way, i like her too!"

seonghwa watched the two of you converse in awe and he swears he couldn't have fallen more in love with you. it was always a gamble bringing up the fact that he had a kid to his dates and lately he's been ghosted more times than he can count. maybe that's why seonghwa took so long to talk about yeojin. although, he would never admit it, you had him wrapped your finger and he was scared to lose you.

so far though, you were taking his little "surprise" or "fun fact" about him better than he thought you would. still, he was worried what you would say when yeojin left the room. would you be mad at him? dump him on the spot? ghost him after tonight? he's never had one of his flings (?) ever meet yeojin because they all left at the mention of a kid. to say seonghwa was terrified of your reaction was a massive understatement.

"seonghwa?" you ask, pulling the dad out of his thoughts. "yeojin wants to watch bluey."

"right." he answers, gently removing yeojin from his lap as he goes to scrounge for the remote in his unusually disorganized apartment.

while seonghwa looks for the remote, you continue to converse with yeojin about bluey which was the show you ironically watched during dinner time. hey, there's actually plot and messages in the show okay?

by the time seonghwa returned, the two of you were in a deep conversation about some episode regarding bingo and bluey playing pretend with their grandad. almost immediately, yeojin eye's become glued to the screen as soon her dad puts on the kid's show leaving you and seonghwa to talk amongst each other.

"so, you know bluey?" seonghwa asks, a teasing tone to his voice.

an embarrassed laugh slips past your lips, "uh yeah, sounds silly but i watch it as background noise, you know?"

"i'm not judging," he pauses, "just surprised."

"yeah, i like the accents." you say in a panic causing seonghwa to smile, "so, um i don't mean to pry but i assume yeojin's yours?"

the smile slowly fades on his face as seonghwa feels the guilt build in his stomach. "yeah, her, uh mom isn't in the picture anymore."

"oh, i'm so sorry to hear that."

"it's fine now, it's better without her." seonghwa looks down at his hands trying to distract himself from the thoughts about the past.

"oh."

there was a beat of silence where the both of you didn't dare to look at each other, too afraid to make things weird. only the faint conversations of the tv and the sounds of the marker on paper were heard.

"look, i'm really sorry for dumping all this on you." seonghwa gestures to an oblivious yeojin. "i know you probably weren't expecting a child tonight or any of this really. i completely understand if you don't want to talk again or you need space. whatever you want, i'll do."

"it's okay,"

"i-you're not mad?" seonghwa asks in shock.

"i mean i'm not mad. i understand not bringing up a daughter on the first date. but i'm just a little disappointed you didn't tell me sooner." you confess.

"i didn't want to lose you."

"seonghwa-"

"i was trying to plan the perfect time to talk about yeojin but i just got so swamped with everything that time slipped through my fingers and you had to find out in such a shitty way."

your eyes dart towards a sleepy yeojin on seonghwa's lap at the curse word. even he jumps a little at his realization and then calms down when he realized that his baby girl was almost knocked out in his lap.

"would you have told me before we made things official?" you ask, testing the waters about how serious you could go tonight with the questions.

"yes. most definitely yes. i couldn't just ask you to be my partner and then surprise you that i have a whole child that i've been hiding from you."

interesting. so was he going to tell you about yeojin soon? was he going to make things official?

seonghwa could see the gears turning in your head at his words. "it sounds hypocritical now but trust me i really wanted you two to meet. i just-i really like you y/n."

you go quiet. processing everything he was saying. from what he was saying there was a very very high chance he wants you to be his like officially his but even if he actually wanted to make things official, he has a whole child. a child without a mother. were you really ready to take on the responsibility to be one? or anything similar to that role?

being with seonghwa meant much more than just being together and loyal to one another. being honest, you didn't mind yeojin. so far you got along great with her but a single interaction and convo won't predict the future of your relationship with her. it's a lot definitely but-

"y/n," seonghwa softly says pulling you out from your daze, "i'll be right back i'm gonna put yeojin down in her room."

you hum in response, letting your thoughts consume you once more.

your brain was beginning to ache because of how much you were thinking but one thing was for certain. you really liked seonghwa. enough that you were willing to accept everything that came with him - including yeojin.

you reminded yourself that dating seonghwa didn't mean automatically becoming a parent all of a sudden. he wasn't asking that of you. probably won't for a long time. he wants you for you. it's just a bonus you got along with yeojin so far.

there was a soft click of the door closing that made you turn your head. you look over to see seonghwa awkwardly make his way over to you, uncertainty written all over his face.

"i'm sorry for going quiet on you." you apologize, fingers toying with the hem of your cardigan once more. "i was just thinking."

a quiet laugh escapes seonghwa, "it's okay, don't worry about it. i'm sure tonight was a lot. but-"

"listen, seonghwa," oh here it comes. the "i'm so sorry, i don't think this will work out anymore". "i don't know what your plans were for us but regardless of what happened tonight, i want to be more. i know you having a whole kid might make things difficult or a little confusing but, i'm willing to try with you."

seonghwa felt his heart drop and then pick back up again when you finished talking. he didn't know what to say. he was grateful, excited, but most of all relived.

"so, how does another date this thursday night," seonghwa pauses, trying to not choke on his words, "as mine sound?"

"are you finally asking me to be your partner, park seonghwa?" you smile. it's finally happening.

"yes." seonghwa breathes out, truly terrified of your answer.

"then yes, i would love to." you answer, wrapping your arms around seonghwa's neck.

"sounds good then my love." seonghwa mumbles, his heart racing and his head buzzing from the overwhelming night but it didn't matter to him.

you were finally his.