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yierrem · 17 days ago

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dating headcanons - zzzero men edition (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

ft. gn!reader x anton ivanov, ben bigger, lighter, von lycaon, wise ; no applicable warnings! my first request (i tried to finish it before christmas in my timezone, but still, merry christmas to the anon who requested this :DD and to those reading!!) hehehhe i hope its good enough｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

anton ivanov

you cannot look me in the eye and tell me this man isn’t the type to yell “this is for you!” or “if i hit this you give me a kiss” and completely miss whatever target he’s supposed to hit. he hits it. sometimes. he still gets a kiss anyways.

[“dude” “we’re literally dating and you’ve placed your lips on mine do NOT call me dude.” “…babe”]

big on gift giving and words of affirmation in terms of love languages. he makes sure to put a lot of thought into whatever he gives to you to properly convey his appreciation and show just how much you mean to him.

"strong, sincere, and straightforward." he's definitely the type to encourage you to try new things especially when you're the type to get easily nervous. if you're scared of looking stupid, don't worry; he'll do it with you hand-in-hand so you can be stupid together. becomes your no. 1 hype man and would give you his honest opinions whenever you need ‘em.

you see or hear him talking to his jackhammer bro for the most mundane or random things and you've become used to it at this point. its honestly endearing (you're hopeless)

["bro do you think they'd still love me if i was a worm?" "vroom vroom vroom" “you think so?” “vroom” "yeah, you're right."]

ben bigger

scary bear privileges meaning no one wants to mess with you knowing that you're dating someone who cuts such an intimidating presence but you know better than them because ben would much rather use his paws to tap away at a calculator or spreadsheet than willingly get into fights.

on that note, he's most likely to be the best companion for grocery shopping; he'll know how to get all the good discounts and haggle for the best prices for sure.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 1. although he puts his fur care second, it's still soft and fuzzy to the touch and he likes that you appreciate the warmth it provides too.

since he struggles with some of his accounting responsibilities due to the size of his paws, sometimes you help him with sorting some of belobog industries' financial documents and eventually you end up finding the task quite relaxing after a while of doing it.

but, of course, he loves spending time with you outside of work. anything to take his mind off of the horrors of accounting. he'll mentally file away anything he learns about you when you're together for future purposes, may it be gift or date ideas.

he's the bear thiren between both of you, but in private he loves cuddling against you like you're some sort of plush toy. you don't mind. another win-win situation because you get to rest against him like a giant pillow as well.

lighter

he tries to be flirty with you and sometimes it works! but when you match his energy and it backfires on him he turns into a blushing mess who doesn’t know what to do with himself.

also the type to want to show off or act all suave. he has an image to keep as the undefeated champion! the red scarf! (he’s internally giggling and kicking his feet from one [1] cheek kiss you left in passing).

date nights with him sometimes consist of drives on his bike and stargazing at a nice little spot he found in blazewood. then halfway through, he’d get distracted from seeing the stars in your eyes and think that its a hundred times better than the real thing and fall in love all over again.

“gets as many challenges as love letters” but he makes sure that you and anyone who tries to make a move know that he only has eyes for you. could be in the form of having an arm around your waist or his jacket on you when you feel cold.

a physical touch and acts of service guy because. well. he did say he’d like to die for love one day. that’s a very romantic thing to say and do. also his heart still races whenever you hold his hand but he swears he’s getting used to it (he isn’t). probably melts when you gently run your fingers over his face or any of his scars

i honestly feel like he's one of those "me and my bae don't argue they just tell me to shut up and i do" types.

von lycaon

an ideal date for him would be a fancy dinner or picnic somewhere nice and discreet. complete with scented candles, your favorite flowers, and homecooked food (which probably tastes better than anything you've ever eaten at any restaurant). then at some point when both of you have finished eating and you're both in conversation, he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves a kiss on your knuckles.

["darling, your face is...concerningly red. are you feeling alright?" "i'm fine. i think."]

you WILL be receiving that prince/princess treatment (threat). breakfast in bed when he isn’t busy, spontaneous massages offered when you mention ONCE that you feel tired, and all that jazz. you probably will never have to open another door yourself with him around and he ALWAYS offers his arm for you to take when you're walking together.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 2. just prepare yourself for horrendous shedding as summer begins… but you don’t mind helping him brush through his fur (*´ω`*) its therapeutic and you’re one of the very few people he trusts with the task so its a win for both of you.

since he's a wolf thiren, he sometimes unwillingly attracts the attention of stray cats and dogs; he usually pays them no mind but it is somewhat of an inconvenience for him. however, the sight of you playing with them while quietly cooing eases some of his discomfort. seems like you aren't the only one suffering from cuteness aggression.

his guilty pleasure is squishing your cheeks in his hands. no i will not elaborate

wise

this is one of the random play managers we’re talking about, so. movie date nights are mandatory. both of you alternate when picking movies but sometimes you bicker over options like an old married couple just for the fun of it.

a lot more chill when it comes to PDA but he can be flirty when he wants to be. if he knows you have a weak spot for it, he uses it to his advantage to get what he wants. scheming little minx. /pos

words of affirmation and quality time guy, i think. since he's always so busy with managing the store and completing commissions alongside belle as proxies, he makes the most out of the time you guys can spend together alone. even if it's just laying in his bed or on the couch doing nothing together sometimes.

everyone and their mothers and grandmothers on sixth street will probably know that you’re dating or figure something out at some point even when both of you don’t really do much together in public/are trying to keep it on the low. never underestimate these aunties man

unfortunately for wise, he will become the target of teasing or nagging from belle when it comes to your relationship. once you get close enough she'll also share embarrassing stories from when they were younger or before you and wise started dating much to her brother’s chagrin.

secretly likes clinging and cuddling up to you like a koala. both of you are in bed? oh okay, don’t mind him, he’ll just scooch a bit and wrap his arms and legs around you, claiming that having you in his bed helps fix his insomnia (it does, to some degree). [“wise i can’t move.” “you don’t need to.”]

on the days you help out with tasks in random play, you could quite literally just be standing while doing something and then you’ll feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist from behind as he leans his head on one of your shoulders with a quiet, satisfied sigh.

#zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz x reader #zzzero #zzz x you #anton ivanov #anton zzz #anton ivanov x reader #anton x reader #ben bigger #ben bigger x reader #lighter lorenz #lighter zzz #lighter x reader #von lycaon #lycaon x reader #zzz lycaon #zzz wise #wise x reader

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guardianspirits13 · 6 months ago

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I think one of the most overlooked factors in Netflix's cutthroat approach to deciding wether to renew a show is that they wholly underestimate the power of fandoms.

They seem to think that unless a show is record-breaking or award-winning it will not be profitable to renew but they fail to recognize that most people don't give a shit about the accolades as long as a show is good.

And even then, it is normal to take more than one eight-episode season to pick up real cultural traction. Plenty of now-beloved shows did not reach mainstream popularity until they were multiple seasons deep.

Netflix fails to consider the longevity of their IPs over the initial peak of interest, and have thus cultivated a self-fulfilling prophecy as people avoid starting new shows because they don't want to become invested in something that is more likely than not to be cancelled, and thus these new shows don't reach the ludicrous viewership standard they have set to justify a renewal.

Sure, they get new subscribers for new shows but what keeps them there? Maybe they'd actually stay subscribed if a new season of something they are invested in is on the way (barring the cost itself, which is a whole different can of worms).

Plenty of people subscribe only for one or two shows- I remember people cancelling their subscriptions when they took The Office off because that show alone was keeping them on the platform.

Supernatural did not get 15 seasons because of its exceptional writing or cinematography (ha), they got 15 seasons because of devoted fans who wanted more. Who kept rewatching and buying merchandise and paying for con tickets.

Daredevil is one of the best shows I have ever seen, and that was at the time where the "early" cancellation was common after three seasons (with 12+ episodes). Inside Job is one of the only adult animated series that I have ever thoroughly enjoyed, and it was lucky to have two seasons. Shadow and Bone had the potential to be a franchise based in the extended Grishaverse, and yet it also ended after two seasons.

Finally- not everyone watches shows the day they release! We don't all have that sort of time, and it's ok to discover a new show a week, a month, a year after it releases! Word of mouth and fan culture/communities have been the rock upon which lasing series are created, from Star Trek to Game of Thrones.

All this to say, @netflix yall get your act together and renew Dead Boy Detectives before you lose your captive audience 🫠

#netflix #subscription services #shadow and bone #six of crows #daredevil #inside job #dead boy detectives #the office #the sandman #renew dead boy detectives #renew shadow and bone #netflix orignal series #netflix original #fandom #fandom culture

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mysteryshoptls · 4 months ago

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SSR Fellow Honest - Playful Dress Voice Lines

When Summoned: As long as you have Fellow Honest-sama by your side, there is nothing for you to fear.

Summon Line: In my good hands, you'll have all the applause and fame you could ever dream of! Now then, is the next stage over this way?

Groooovy!!: Let's go, Gidel! Life is all about being free and having fun!

Home: Go! Showtime!

Home Idle 1: So, it's written here in this textbook... Mhmm. Uh-huh. I seeeee! ...I ain't got a clue what it's tryin' to say.

Home Idle 2: That little brat! ...Ahem. Have you seen Ace-kun anywhere? I thought I'd pay him back for a prank he just pulled a bit ago.

Home Idle 3: Hey, Gidel, didja see how grand the cafeteria is here...? Better eat up as much as we can while we're here!

Home Idle - Login: Well, ain't this a fine, scholarly establishment. I can feel my knees knockin' together just from stepping foot on campus. Don'tcha agree, Gidel?

Home Idle - Groovy: Fwahaha! Ramshackle's a real odd name for a dorm. You got a pretty sweet pad, you better take care of it.

Home Tap 1: I seriously don't know what to make of Kalim-kun's happy-go-lucky nature. Even if I hadn't been the one to trap him, he definitely would've ended up in some kind of pinch some day, you know that, right?

Home Tap 2: I'll admit it now, but I was definitely shocked when I first laid eyes on Ortho-kun. I guess there really are a ton of curious things at a school.

Home Tap 3: You want to know how I wormed my way onto this campus? Maybe you really shouldn't underestimate Fellow Honest-sama's gilded silver tongue.

Home Tap 4: It seems you young scholars have no appreciation for being able to learn in a school like you do. If you're gonna skive off anyway, just drop out already.

Home Tap 5: What, you want to hear about all the different kinds of shows I've done? Fwahaha! I dunno, maaaybe it'll be a little too exciting for you to handle, hm?

Home Tap - Groovy: Oh, boy. I definitely know I want the school that I put together to be a waaay more peaceful and refined place than Night Raven College.

Duo: [FELLOW]: Now, it's time for the show, Grim-kun. [GRIM]: Fellow! I'll show you what a real star can do!

Requested by @sakurakudo.

#twisted wonderland #twst #fellow honest #gidel #twst fellow #twst gidel #twst translation #twst playful land #mention: ace #mention: kalim #mention: ortho

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disgustingtwitches · 15 days ago

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A Rose in Harlem

New York is supposed to be the city where people vanish into the chaos, but somehow, Simon Riley has found his way into your life. He’s managed to slip past your defenses, filling a void you didn’t realize was there. But when the closeness starts to feel too real, you pull back, desperate to hide your vulnerability. Simon, however, has already bared his own scars and expects you to do the same. Suddenly, your life feels like a romcom you never signed up for, starring the one man who’s impossible to ignore.

Long live the rose that grew from concrete, when no one else ever cared.

Masterlist

PART 4

The Sweetest Taboo

So, you're sleeping with your neighbor. This is fine. Totally fine. You're two consenting adults; no one needs to know. Except Simon seems to disagree.

You wouldn’t peg him as the "kiss and tell" type, but much to your duress, Simon is unapologetically the "kiss and show" type.

At the grocery store, he casually shows up at the same time, grabbing your bags like it’s second nature and walking you home. The stares from the neighbors make your face burn.

Morning run-ins in the foyer have evolved into something dangerously inappropriate. He refuses to let you leave without a kiss. Sometimes it’s just a fleeting brush of lips; other times, it’s deeper, lingering, and edging into the territory of lewd, making you shove his face away.

Then there’s the hoodie. One of his oversized ones, soft and smelling faintly of him. He bullied you into wearing it. You caved, of course, but it stays hidden in the back of your drawer when Ishta comes around—there’s no way you’re dealing with opening that can of worms.

It’s not just the overt gestures, though. It’s the way he lingers too long at your door after you’ve kissed him goodnight. Watches you through the fire escape, like he has every right to. Sitting there with his legs sprawled, a cigarette lazily dangling between his fingers, he makes no attempt to hide it.

You tried to put an end to that one. Bought curtains on a whim, feeling smug about the newfound privacy they’d grant you. But they mysteriously disappeared the day after you installed them—conveniently after you’d gone to work.

Simon played dumb when you confronted him, leaning casually against his doorframe.

“Dunno what you’re talking about, angel. Someone breaking in while you’re away? Maybe I should stick around your place and keep watch.”

His grin was infuriatingly smug, as it usually is.

It’s all becoming a little too real, a little too… loud. And yet, when you’re pressed up against him in the quiet of your apartment, his hands framing your face like you’re the only thing worth holding onto, you almost forget about his wrongdoings.

***

“Brought out the good shit tonight.”

Ishta grins, popping open a bottle of prosecco—the cheap, overly sweet kind she adores. You hold back the urge to grimace as she pours, passing you a glass.

“What's the occasion?”

“Me and Mr.Scottsman are official!”

She squeals lifting her glass high. You mimic the gesture, the clink of glass on glass ringing lightly through the room.

“Wow, it's so official you still won't tell me his name.”

You quip, rolling your eyes as you take a cautious sip. The sweetness of the wine hits immediately, and you fight the reflex to wince.

“John. Johnny.”

She sighs dreamily, hearts in her eyes.

“I call him Johnny because John is way too serious for my liking.”

You raise a brow at her,

"Sounds like you’ve got it bad, Ishta.”

She doesn’t deny it, swirling the prosecco in her glass like it’s some romantic prop, her grin widening.

"Oh, you have no idea. He’s got this laugh—it’s ridiculous—and he can’t make tea to save his life. But, ugh, he’s perfect."

You shake your head, taking another begrudging sip of the prosecco, already bracing yourself for what’s sure to be a night of gushing anecdotes about Johnny.

“Perfect,”

You echo with a laugh, setting your glass down.

“You’ve been together for how long now? A month?”

“Three weeks,”

Ishta corrects.

“But when you know, you know.”

You snort, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

“Yeah, sure. You’re gonna marry this man, huh?”

“Don’t tempt me,”

She says, her grin widening.

“He’s already invited to meet his family. Can you believe it? His family, and I’m just over here trying to not come off as a complete lunatic.”

“Well, you’re failing spectacularly.”

You tease.

She throws a pillow at you, laughing.

“Says the one who’s been mysteriously glowing these past few weeks. Care to spill why?”

You freeze for half a second, a sip of prosecco poised at your lips.

“Glowing? What are you even talking about?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me,”

Ishta says, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re hiding something. Someone.”

You feign indifference, shrugging.

“Maybe I’ve just been using better skincare.”

“Bullshit. Spill. Who is it?”

She leans forward, her gaze piercing.

There’s no way you’re telling her. Not about Simon. Not about the fire escape. Not about the way his hands feel against your skin or the things he whispers in the dark.

“No one,”

You say firmly, hoping she buys it.

“And stop projecting your ridiculous love life onto me.”

Ishta squints at you, unconvinced.

“Uh-huh. Sure. For now, you’re off the hook. But mark my words,”

She wags a finger at you.

“I’ll figure it out.”

You laugh nervously, downing the rest of your drink.

You’re grateful for how easily distracted Ishta can be, her attention now fully locked onto the trashy dating show the two of you watch every Thursday. It’s a routine you’d both adopted more for the chance to mock strangers' poor life choices than for any genuine investment in the drama.

Occasionally, she’ll pipe up, her voice dreamy as she recounts the latest romantic gesture from Johnny, her “Mr. Scotsman." She compares him to the guys on TV, and each time, she insists that Johnny does it better. You can almost hear the wistful sigh in her voice as she talks about how much she adores him.

You smile at her, teasing lightly,

“Gonna end up as one of those military wives?”

Ishta laughs, a genuine, carefree sound that rings out in the space between you. She shrugs with mock indifference, but there’s a spark in her eyes.

"Maybe. I mean, he’s a loverboy under all that wildness, but yeah… I’d say I’ve got it bad.”

You smirk at her, shaking your head.

"You’re hopeless."

"And you’re one to talk,”

She fires back, leveling you with a knowing look.

“Sexy British neighbor still got you tied up in knots?”

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink to stall. The wine’s still too sweet, sticking to your tongue, but you focus on the tang that lingers at the edges.

“I’m not ‘tied up’ in anything. Haven't even spoken to him since the noise complaint situation.”

“Riiight.”

She side-eyes you, unconvinced.

“Something tells me that's not entirely true. You get this weird look on your face every time I bring him up.”

You try to keep a straight face.

“Maybe you’re reading too much into things.”

“Uh-huh.”

She leans back, crossing her arms.

“One of these days, I'll catch you slipping.”

You roll your eyes, desperate to redirect her attention.

“I think you’ve had too much wine.”

“Or not enough,”

She shoots back, taking another sip with a knowing smirk. She hums, like she just remembered something important.

“I forgot to tell you, Johnny invited you to come with me to meet his family.”

You make a face of confusion.

“Me? Why?”

“I talk about you a lot, believe it or not you are one of the most important people in my life.”

The statement takes you back a bit, makes you feel a twinge of guilt lying to her.

“But his family?”

“Well…”

She tilts her head, searching for the right words.

“They’re not exactly blood relatives. They’re his squad, I think that’s the term he uses. He trusts them with his life, so he sees them as family—or the closest thing to it. Something like that.”

It’s her turn to hesitate, her fingers absently trailing the stem of her wine glass.

“Anyway, he thought you might want to come along. Besides,” She adds with a grin, peeking up again.

“It'll be fun. Think about it! Drinks, charming military men, and me as your entertainment. What more could you want?”

With Simon in your life, you think to yourself, you find yourself wanting for nothing lately—except maybe a little less suffocating attention.

“Yeah, what more could I want.”

You say aloud, masking the weight of your thoughts with a light laugh.

Ishta beams at your answer,

“That’s the spirit! You’ll see—it’ll be good for you. And hey, if nothing else, you can help me judge Johnny’s friends. Who knows, maybe one of them is a secret disaster like the guys on this show.”

The conversation shifts back to the TV, her playful commentary dragging you out of your head. But even as you nod along, your mind is already working on an escape plan.

You’re just gonna text her some excuse when the day comes. She’ll understand. Probably.

***

“How can you breathe in these?”

You groan, tugging at the waistband of Ishta’s skin-tight leather pants as she twists and wiggles, trying to pull them up.

“Breathing isn’t a priority here.”

She huffs, planting her hands on her hips and giving a final shimmy.

“Looking good is. Besides,”

She admires herself in the mirror.

“Johnny will love it.”

“Yeah, he probably cares more about how easy they’ll be to take off, Ishta.”

She grins, running her hands down the smooth fabric.

“Yeah. My man, the most efficient guy I know.”

You laugh, shaking your head as she strikes a dramatic pose.

“Efficiency—truly the cornerstone of romance.”

“Don’t knock it,”

She quips, spinning around to face you.

“He’s got it down to an art. Makes him a great lover.”

“Ishta.”

“I mean seriously, when I'm running late he knows exactly what to-”

“Ishta!”

“What? Someone has to get laid here, and it sure isn't you!”

You groan in protest, grabbing a throw pillow and launching it at her. She ducks, her laughter ringing out as she returns to inspecting her reflection in the mirror, twisting to check out the back of her pants.

“I think my butt’s getting bigger.”

She declares, completely unfazed.

“Aren’t we running late?”

You ask, exasperated.

“We’re fine. He’s getting us an Uber.”

She replies, adjusting the waistband of her pants with a smug little smile.

“To Brooklyn? Ouuu, big money.”

You tease, rolling your eyes as you grab your bag.

She grins, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“I just got him trained right. I'll show you how to do it when you get your own man. Or woman. Or anyone.”

Before you get to have your say her phone dings, and she grabs her keys.

"C’mon, Uber’s here."

You give her one last look before following her out the door, ready for whatever insanity lies ahead.

***

The bar you stand outside of is dingy and small, a stark contrast to the sleek black SUV Johnny arranged for Ishta and you. You raise an eyebrow, already feeling out of place.

“Are you sure this is the place?”

You ask, rocking side to side in your heels, feet already hurting.

“Too good for it?”

Ishta teases.

“No, just… aren’t we a little overdressed?”

You reply, glancing down at your outfit. Her red-bottoms are going to get ruined by the sticky floors, and your top is way too low-cut for a place like this.

Ishta smirks, giving you a look.

“You’ll be fine. Besides, if anyone stares for too long, the guys will probably scare them off— if they are anything like Johnny describes.”

And so, you step hesitantly into the grungy spot, thinking of what shitty liquor you need to get you through the night.

The bar is dim, louder than you expected, the scent of stale beer and fried food heavy in the air. Ishta leads the way with her usual confidence, weaving through the mismatched tables and chairs. You follow, heels catching on the sticky floor, your stomach tightening as she heads toward a table in the back.

That’s when you see it: the large black hoodie. The person wearing it is turned away, broad shoulders hunched slightly. Something about the way they hold themselves makes your chest tighten. You tell yourself it can’t possibly be him. The odds are ridiculous, almost laughable.

And yet, your feet falter.

Johnny spots Ishta first, lighting up with a grin so wide it makes his eyes crease at the corners, laughter lines deepening across his face. There’s a boyish enthusiasm in the way he waves her over, unrestrained and unabashed, like a pet spotting its owner after a long day apart.

You remember her mentioning once, in passing, that he was born the year of the dog. It’s funny how fitting that feels now. Loyal, eager, a little too earnest. He all but bounces out of his seat, the movement causing a ripple of attention to shift across the table.

The ridiculously pretty man seated next to him glances up first, his expression brightening with easy charm. Across from him, an older man with a beard you could only describe as unnecessarily dramatic turns and nods politely.

Then, the hoodie moves. Your stomach plummets.

Simon.

His expression is unreadable, but the sight of him freezes you in place, and before you realize it, you’re standing there looking like a deer caught in headlights. The rest of the table follows his gaze, looking at you with various degrees of curiosity.

Ishta grabs your arm.

“Oh my God. Girl, is that your man? What’s wrong? You can’t back away now!”

She says in a low voice, dragging you forward before you can recover.

“That is not my man,”

You hiss back, but it does nothing to stop her relentless pull.

Johnny grins as you both approach, his voice warm and thick with his accent.

“Almost scared her off, Ghost.”

Ghost?

Your eyes flick to Simon. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say a word.

Johnny, takes over the introductions.

“This is Simon. Don’t mind him, wasn’t properly socialized as a bairn.”

There’s some shifting around as the group makes room. To your dismay, Simon stays tucked into one side of the booth, leaving Kyle and Price to scoot out. They pull over chairs from a nearby empty table, and you find yourself awkwardly squeezed beside Simon while Ishta takes the seat across from you.

“Finally nice to put a name to the face.”

Ishta beams at Simon, and you can see the faint flicker of amusement in his eyes, though he doesn’t respond. She laughs when Johnny makes a confused face, giving a brief rundown to the table.

“She says you haven't seen each other since that incident.”

Ishta waves her glass in Simon's direction.

Simon leans back in his seat, mask still up.

“Avoids me like the plague, she does. Must’ve left quite the impression.”

Kyle snorts, leaning forward with an amused grin.

“That’s just his thing. Simon’s got a talent for being a nuisance, don’t you, mate? Knows exactly how to make people’s lives hell.”

“Only when they deserve it.”

Simon replies smoothly.

The table chuckles, but you stay quiet. His knee bumps yours under the table and you shoot him a sharp glance. He doesn’t even look your way, focused instead on swirling his drink he hasn't touched. You drink more than you probably should, hoping it’ll dull the awkwardness.

Thankfully, the rest of the table carries on without issue, their conversation flowing easily.

“Military, huh?”

You ask eventually, your voice quieter than intended.

Simon doesn’t look at you, but Johnny leans in with a grin.

“Yeah, we're stationed here for a while, so get used to seeing my handsome face around.”

The ease in his tone does little to settle the tension twisting in your chest. Simon doesn’t so much as flinch, remaining a stoic, unreadable presence. His silence feels deliberate, heavy, but Johnny’s brightness seems determined to lighten the mood.

“Maybe you’ll even get used to this one,”

Johnny adds playfully.

“Though I wouldn’t hold your breath. He’s got the personality of wet cement.”

That makes you laugh a little, along with the rest of the table. Younod toward Simon.

“So… Ghost. That’s a call sign?”

Simon hums, noncommittal, leaving Johnny to fill the silence.

“Wish I got something cool like that,”

Johnny says, shooting Simon a look that’s both teasing and fond.

“Guess he earned it, scary bastard.”

You glance at Simon again. His face gives nothing away.

Ishta leans over and whispers something into Johnny’s ear, her lips brushing against his ear with a playful familiarity. Whatever she says prompts a crooked grin to spread across his face, his blue eyes lighting up with mischief.

The two of them fall into their own little world, lovebirds whispering and laughing softly, entirely lost to anyone else at the table. Their giddy exchange contrasts sharply with the tension simmering between you and Simon.

You shift in your seat, feeling the press of his knee against yours again. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but the contact makes your pulse quicken. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, wondering if it’s intentional. If he notices your reaction, he doesn’t show it.

Across the table, Price and Kyle keep the conversation flowing, their camaraderie effortless. You envy the ease they seem to find in this dynamic, the sense of belonging that eludes you in this moment.

Eventually, you decide to call it a night.

“Think I’ll head out, guys.”

You say, grabbing your bag. You glance toward Ishta, but she’s too busy twirling a strand of Johnny’s hair between her fingers, practically sitting in his lap.

Kyle stands, reaching for his jacket.

“Want me to walk you home, love?”

Before you can answer, Price butts in.

“Think Simon’s closer. Said you're neighbors, right?”

Your mouth goes dry.

“Oh, uh. Yeah.”

“He'll take you home. Don't need Kyle chasing up your dress.”

Simon finally looks at you, dark eyes unreadable. Without another word, he gets up.

***

The train ride back is painfully silent, tension coiling thick between you. Simon doesn’t make small talk, doesn’t fill the awkward space with meaningless words, and you can’t decide if you’re grateful or annoyed.

When you finally reach your apartment, you stop at the door, fumbling with your keys. You unlock it and step inside, turning to offer a polite, “Goodnight.”

Before you can close the door, Simon’s boot wedges into the frame.

“No kiss goodnight?”

He murmurs, pulling down his mask, voice low.

“Do you always have to be like this?”

You mumble, leaning forward and tilting your head up.

“You like it.”

He replies, pressing his scarred lips against your glossed ones.

The kiss lingers in your mind longer than it lasts, the warmth still spreading through your limbs. He pulls away, slipping his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. You stand with the door still open,

“Ok, well, goodnigh-”

“Not gonna invite me in for a drink?”

The way he says it—like he’s giving you the option, but he knows exactly how this game goes—brings a rush of heat to your cheeks.You hesitate for a moment, the weight of the night pressing down on you, but it hits you then—you’ve been waiting for him to make this move. Simon knows exactly how to push just enough, always teetering on the line between being too much and just enough.

You tilt your head, playing the game, your voice teasing.

“I don’t believe in letting strangers into my place, Ghost.”

His jaw tightens at the name, a flash of something flickering behind his eyes, but he recovers quickly, scanning your face with a quiet intensity.

“Hit your head, angel? The name’s Simon, remember?”

“Hmm,”

You cock your head, a playful smirk curling on your lips as you tease,

“Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”

Simon’s expression shifts, eyes narrowing just a fraction as his lips curl into a grin.

“No? Thought you’d remember it with how many times you say it when I’ve got you bent over that couch.”

“Simon!”

You gasp with a smile.

“Glad to see your memories back, love. Had me worried there for a moment.”

His voice drips with smug satisfaction, fingers creeping around your waist as you step backward into your apartment. His movements mirror yours, closing the distance, the same familiar rhythm between you two. Except this time, the dance ends in your bed, bathed in silvery moonlight that filters through the windows, casting shadows and soft glimmers over the room.

What he says to you in that space, the things he says are as depraved as they are tender, sinful words laced with something softer, gentler. And in that moment, you realize they’re the sweetest things Simon is capable of offering.

Lying on his chest, you let your thoughts drift, his sparse chest hair tickling the side of your face. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat drums against your ear as your fingers trace lazy circles on his skin. His hand mirrors yours, gently skimming the small of your back in slow, soothing motions.

You enjoy these moments just aas much as the more heated ones—maybe more. They feel almost domestic, like peeking through the keyhole of something you tell yourself you can’t have. But for now, it’s enough. It fills that quiet loneliness you feel some days.

Simon presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head, his lips lingering there for a beat longer than you expect. It feels like him savoring the closeness he so rarely allows himself.

“Mind if I sleep here tonight?”

His voice low and casual.

Your body goes stiff before you can stop it, and his hand on your back stills.

“Oh,”

You say, forcing a laugh that cracks at the edges.

“Didn’t think you’d grown tired of your bachelor setup. What happened? Mattress on the floor finally giving up on you?”

Simon hums, unbothered, his fingers resuming their lazy path.

“Figured I’d upgrade. You offering?”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you sit up quickly, putting a small but deliberate distance between you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He doesn’t move, watching you with hooded eyes, his expression calm, unreadable.

“Why not? Thought we were comfortable now.”

His tone is deceptively light, but you can hear the challenge beneath it.

“I don’t sleep well with someone else in the bed,” You say, crossing your arms, covering your bare chest.

“It’s just a thing—I’m used to having my space.”

“Space, huh?”

He sits up and leans back against the wall, hands clasped behind his head, looking entirely too at ease.

“Didn’t seem to need space a few minutes ago, angel.”

You frown, heat rising to your face.

“That’s different. Sleeping is… it’s personal.”

He smirks, tilting his head slightly.

“And what we just did isn’t?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your irritation in check.

“You know what I mean, Simon.”

“Not sure I do,”

His tone is playful, but there’s a stubborn edge to it now.

“Seems to me like you’re just makin’ excuses.”

“I’m not.”

The words come out sharper than you intended. You sigh, running a hand through his short hair, an apology of sorts.

“It’s just… I’m not ready for that.”

“A lil sleepover?”

He tilts his head. Before you can respond, he grabs your face with one hand, his fingers pressing against your cheeks to make your lips pout.

You yank your head away, sucking your teeth in frustration.

“You’re impossible.”

He grins, leaning back against the wall like he’s won something.

“Am I? Or are you just makin’ this harder than it needs to be?”

“Simon,”

You snap,

“It’s not about being hard or easy. It’s about boundaries. Respecting them.”

“Boundaries?”

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk slipping just slightly.

“Since when have we had those?”

Never, you think to yourself. It's a little distressing if you think about it too long, letting a man have such sway on you.

He pulls you closer, his thick arms wrapping around you with an ease that feels as natural as it is intrusive. You don’t resist, though. Instead, your fingers trace the inked lines on his forearm, a distraction, an excuse not to look him in the eye.

“Think you got one more in you?”

His voice is low, dipping into something softer, coaxing.

“I’ll be out your hair after that.”

You can’t help the faint smile that tugs at your lips, even though you hate yourself for giving in so easily. It’s always like this with him—pushing, pulling, finding that sliver of space where you’re weak enough to let him in.

“Yeah,”

You murmur, leaning just slightly into his touch,

“Think I do.”

His lips curve into a grin, satisfied, but he doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he pulls you into his lap. And just like always, he gets exactly what he wants.

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#he never got spoiled as a child so if you give him an inch he will take a mile #a rose in Harlem #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader

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earlycuntsets · 1 month ago

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“I CONSIDERED MYSELF TO BE MORE OF A GIRL”

A CONVERSATION WITH GERARD WAY from theboyzine.com 1/18/2015

"Gerard way is the renaissance-type singer songwriter // Goth prince frontman // comic book artist // proud father best known for both his solo music and his band My Chemical Romance. We got a chance to ask him a few questions in early January. Enjoy!

What is your favorite animal?

I would have to say an ape; for a long time I didn’t take the time to know the difference between primates, but my wife and I have been really into animals—apes are just very gentle creatures.

As an emotional professional, how do you feel when people tell you to man up?

You know, growing up as a boy you are always told not to show your emotions, that it is a sign of weakness. I have been lucky enough to lead a life where I can celebrate how I really feel—but there is still negative attention towards it and it is still considered weakness.

Is there a point, then, where one does need to (for lack of a better word) man up?

You know I really don’t like that phrase. “man up”, because it implies that emotional strength in rough times is a masculine trait, when in reality some of the strongest people I know are women. But yes, there are a lot of times when you should control your emotions– times of crisis and need where you really can’t let them get involved. I have learned to pull my emotions out of a lot of big decisions.

You often make it a point to spread the message of gender equality in your shows. Could you describe that a little bit?

It is something I have been lucky enough to be educated about. I generally try to pay attention to it, make sure I get my facts from the best sources and whatnot, and I really relate to it. I never really subscribed to the archetype masculinity growing up, I had no interest in sports or anything like that. There was a time where I was called a girl so often that when I discovered the idea of transgenderism I considered myself to be more of a girl. So I identify with trans people and women a lot because I was a girl to a lot of people growing up. When I was doing MCR I think I finally got to display my femininity through the glam theatrical aspects of the band. It made me feel more hopeful, that I was allowed to be flamboyant. I want to make sure women and men and everyone in between feel safe and empowered.

Was there a person or thing that first sparked your interest in feminism?

When I was around 16 I became friends with these really cool girls, and that’s how I got exposed to Bikini Kill, Helium, Bratmobile—that was the real punk. All the other hardcore scenes at the time were a little bit hypermasculine and violent, which was totally unappealing to me. But here are these bands—Bikini Kill, et cetera that were actually talking about important things. That was real punk. Great bands.

What sort of advice can you offer to all of us boyz reading?

You have to surround yourself with ‘the others’. Whether they’re the creatives that you know or whatever it is. Because you guys will feed each other, that’s the nature of people. Find companions who will push you in the field you are in.

Do you hang onto traces of boyishness? Comics and digging up worms?

Well first off I don’t consider those things boyish. I am really happy that things like comics have become less marketed specifically toward boys—did you know that 50 percent of comic book readers are girls now? There is a really great picture I saw one time of a little girl with all the spiderman toys in a toy store clearly angry that they were in the ‘boys’ section. We need to let kids have more freedom of choice in who they want to be.

But answering your question, I have always been super into comic books. I didn’t really ever like sports, so I played dungeons and dragons a lot. That was a really important creative outlet for me. Of course I still love Star wars, and biking.

How do you find ways to stay positive?

Society is so interconnected these days, there is so much noise. It is really important I think to turn the noise down, to find ways to do so. Whether you’re in a creative field or not, you need to find a way to follow what is in your gut because that noise that is so obstructive is creeping. Think about the art you make, the people you love.

My routine is really simple but important to me. I wake up every morning and my wife and I get our daughter ready for school and I drive her there. And that’s when work begins for me. I am lucky that one day I can be recording a new song and the next I am putting all of my energy into a comic.

Do you consider your marriage to be a partnership?

I am very glad you asked. I consider my whole family dynamic a three way partnership actually. My wife and I have been partners since day one, and now our daughter is the newest addition to the mix. Of course we have different duties to each other—my wife and my job is to educate my daughter and make her feel great and teach her how to work hard, to let her choose what she loves. That’s very important to us. It is great coming home from the road because Lindsay (my wife) and I get to work together more.

Thank you so much for doing this interview, is there anything we haven’t touched that you want to say?

Don’t chase your dreams, let your dreams chase you

#sry no picture #but shares about his gender and it's sweet <333 #my chemical romance #mcr #gerard way #2015 #hesitant alien era #interviews #the boy zine #theboyzine.com #gay pride

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ohnoitstbskyen · 8 months ago

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Do you think Riot will make more seasons of Arcane in different regions post-s2, make more shows with different names that are set in the Arcane universe, or secret third option?

Yes and no.

To start with, yes: Arcane has been by far Riot's most mainstream successful media project ever (even outstripping K/DA), and there is literally no way in hell that the company isn't going to want to keep milking it until it is as dry, stale and withered as the PROJECT skin line.

So I predict that, absolutely, we will see new seasons of shows set in the League of Legends universe, probably animated, and hopefully with some of the extremely good animation partners Riot has managed to cultivate over the years.

The ARCANE branding is incredibly valuable now, and I wouldn't put it past Riot to do something stupid like name a show set in the Freljord ARCANE: True Ice or something unbearably stupid like that, even though the name relates extremely specifically to the setting and story of Piltover/Zaun and the Vi/Powder/Viktor/Jayce character group.

On the other hand, Riot might be the company on earth I trust the absolute least to effectively capitalize on and carry forward a success in creative arts that can't be monetized with skins and event passes.

Riot has an absolutely astounding history of tripping on their dicks when it comes to telling stories about their characters, in no small part due to its leadership quite simply never valuing storytelling as an end in itself. If it doesn't sell cosmetics or drive Engagement™ with the core League of Legends product, good luck getting Riot management to spend a fucking dime to make anything real.

Passionate people inside the company have to go to war, every single time, to make anything good happen. Legends of Bilgewater, the Spirit Blossom visual novel, the Marvel comics collaboration (RIP), Riot Forge, and very much Arcane, were absolute passion projects pushed over the line by people who literally put their jobs (and in many cases their health) on the line to make them happen.

Alex Yee and Christian Linke are old hands at Riot with a lot of clout, a lot of friends at the company, and a lot of goodwill to cash in, and if that hadn't been the case, there is literally no way in hell anything like Arcane ever gets made.

The behind-the-scenes documentary Riot themselves produced obviously goes out of its way to let Riot leadership suck themselves off about how much they contributed and how much they believed in the project, but make no mistake, they would have axed Arcane on the spot if there wasn't creatives fighting pitched battles every other day to keep it alive.

This is true of K/DA as well, by the way, there was a lot of internal resistance at Riot to that project - and to Star Guardians, and to Heartsteel. Anything cool Riot has ever made? Just assume that someone internally was shitting on it in meetings and trying to get it shut down.

Which is why I am intensely worried about Arcane in the long term. Not so much about Season 2, since it is mostly being produced by the same group of people, as far as I know, but that project is also going to be absolutely besieged by C-suite jackoffs trying to worm their names into the credits, making themselves Stakeholders™ and offering Feedback™ and voicing Concerns™, and I don't envy the showrunners the battles they are going to have to fight to keep these vultures away from the product.

But I am fucking worried about whatever Season 3 becomes. I am fucking worried about what happens the moment any of the key creatives behind the first two seasons resign, or get headhunted to new jobs. I am worried what's going to happen when Riot decides that the showrunners are "being difficult" and standing in the way of what leadership wants to do with the now very valuable ARCANE branding, and either corporately mandates them into roles of diminished influence or just outright fucking fires them (it'll be publicized as a mutual decision of course, it'll be publicized as a much celebrated retirement or "it's time to move on to new adventures").

Riot is a company with absolutely infinite capacity to fuck up a perfectly good thing for absolutely no fucking reason except some kombucha-chugging, suit-jacket-over-a-graphic-tee-and-sneakers-wearing, keeps-his-job-despite-multiple-sexual-harassment-allegations-because-he's-bros-with-the-C-suite, motherfucking "I am a player so I know what the players want" platitude-spouting "themes are for book reports"-ass Silicon Valley libertarian piece of shit decided he knows better than the artists whose work are the reason he takes home six figures a year.

#tb answers #arcane #riot games #league of legends

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wing-ed-thing · 3 months ago

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Crocodile Relationship Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Alcohol Mentions

𓆃 The epitome of needing to back up your words with action, because if you're surviving Crocodile, you need to be ballsy and have the power to back it up.

𓆃 Getting on good terms of any kind with Crocodile is a Herculean feat and damn near impossible, given his mess of contradictory standards.

𓆃 Because there's no earning his respect if you don't have a backbone, but he's also bound to be steaming the moment you have anything smart to say.

𓆃 Crocodile is a jaded, old-fashioned pirate with a complex. In fact, the entire "pirate aspect" is 80% pure criminal activity and 20% sailing, because Crocodile is in it to win it and come out on top.

𓆃 Power is king, and anyone who earns a shred of respect from Crocodile is powerful. But it's not enough to be powerful until you prove yourself to be on his level, and even so, Crocodile is too self-absorbed to see you as an equal, even when it comes to individuals with bounties far greater than his.

𓆃 If you're weaker than him, you're a weakling. If you're stronger or on a level playing field, no you're not!

𓆃 Your best odds at any sort of functional relationship (romantic or otherwise) is when you have the slightest edge over him and keep an established record of it!

𓆃 Come out the winner of a duel. Steal the thing that he thought he had stolen from you, but you knew all along he was going to try to do that so Crocodile never actually stole the thing he thought he was stealing from you in the first place—

𓆃 But even so, your successes can't be too successful, or he'll begin to grow jaded. It has to be a slight edge, just enough to keep you alive and keep each other in check.

𓆃 Your foundation will be based on checks and balances, and anything more will be vehemently unspoken.

𓆃 Crocodile, of all people, is not a romantic, and anything more than bitter rivalry will come naturally and with uncommunicated rules just like the beginning of your relationship.

𓆃 You'll do what lovers do, just without the frills and without the acknowledgement.

𓆃 You'll take his clothes, and he hates when you do it. You'll throw a wine bottle at his head, shattering it against a wall as you chase him out of your room. You suspect each other at the drop of a hat and pull your weapons even faster, only for you to let him rest his head in your lap while he enjoys some expensive liquor sometime that evening.

𓆃 He drips whisky on your thighs as it pours out the sides of his mouth, and you hate him for it.

𓆃 You tell him you'll kill him, and he says he'd like to see you try.

𓆃 Or maybe you have no real power at all, but make up for it marginally with nerve.

𓆃 Like a rippling and hissing cat. Or a single dog defending puppies. Or a housewife in an apron with no weapon but a wooden spoon.

𓆃 Little power and little dominion, but enough ferocity to be intriguing. And despite sparking Crocodile's curiosity being a feat in and of itself, someone he perceives is so beneath him isn't bound to hold his attention for long, and definitely will not garner his respect.

𓆃 Perhaps he'll keep you around akin to a pet, only for him to leave you hanging the moment his path for survival intersects with your reliance on his protection.

𓆃 It wouldn't be impossible. When it comes to the kind of man who needs to take things slowly, it isn't impossible to grow on him. Even a softer, direct opposite of Crocodile can worm into his cold, dead heart if the stars aligned.

𓆃 But you're waiting on a time that's dire enough to make him pick between leaving you in the dust and more accidentally showing his hand when it comes to how Crocodile actually feels about you.

𓆃 Getting even remotely close to Crocodile is a gamble, and there's no way to prepare yourself.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #op x reader #one piece x reader #sir crocodile #one piece crocodile #x you #x reader #op crocodile #crocodile one piece #one piece headcanons #crocodile headcanons

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thedemonsurfer · 22 days ago

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TSAMS Theory: Solar Flare wasn't real

So, here's the thing. Solar Flare's final exchange with Eclipse, when they're waiting to die, has this very painful and bittersweet part in it.

Solar Flare: You are not a good man. You are not a good person in any regard. But-- you did care. Even if you could never show it. You are just like him. Eclipse: Who? Solar Flare: The first Moon.

Oof oof ouch my heart. The art folks did with Eclipse having Moon's hat here was *chef's kiss*

But, wait. Hold on.

How the fuck would Solar Flare know anything about Old Moon?!

Consider the timeline. Eclipse builds Solar Flare, steals his body. Approximately 5min later Sun shows up to kill him. Eclipse gets away, tricks Sun into destroying Moon's magic circle. With no magic to find a solution to the looming threat of being trapped inside his own head, Moon makes the decision to reset himself to split off KC, and his memories are wiped in the process.

Solar Flare met Moon a grand total of once, for about five minutes, to sabatogue Eclipse (Eclipse's NEW BODY?!). He otherwise didn't talk to anyone at all. I actually don't think he ever met Kill Code, even, which opens a whole other can of worms like "Was Kill Code even aware Solar Flare existed? Did he forget he told Eclipse to make them?"

So here's my theory: The Solar Flare that Eclipse meets when he goes into the mindscape, the one that's keeping him locked in a dying frame and reads him completely to filth with terrifying accuracy? That's not Solar Flare. Solar Flare is gone, deleted.

The person that Eclipse interacts with is himself. His own subconscious, which knows every little insecurity and doubt he tries to repress. Who knows his past, the things that fuel him, the things he's ignored or discarded.

It's not a completely baseless guess. Sun suffers from stress-related hallucinations, mostly from his guilt regarding Bloodmoon, but about others as well. And later on, with the rebuilt Eclipse, he straight hallucinates himself to talk to shortly before Lunar blows him tae fuck. The rebuilt Eclipse is post-star, but he's not too far removed from the person who was dying in a bunker orbiting the sun.

And... isn't that tragic to consider? 'Solar Flare' prevents Eclipse from uploading himself into a new body. He prevents him from escaping this hell he's put himself through. And if that 'Solar Flare' is really Eclipse...

...then he's holding himself back. He knows, on a not very deep level, that he's done. He won but it's a hollow victory, because the person who's attention he craved, his self-proclaimed rival, is gone. The person who's replaced him isn't interested in starting a new rivalry. Eclipse literally doesn't know what to do with himself-- he has no goals, no other ambitions. Full Megamind 'I didn't really think I'd get this far" going on here.

And the star is killing him. He knows it's killing him, and he makes an effort to prevent that... but what good will it do to keep living? The star was only ever a means to an end, a motivating McGuffin to keep Moon's attention. Eclipse wasn't meant to win, and he knows it.

'Solar Flare' is just a mask, a plausible external individual to voice the thoughts that Eclipse is trying to ignore, and a fabricated companion because Eclipse has never been completely alone like this.

Really is a bit pathetic, isn't it?

#tsams #the sun and moon show #i had to look it up and see if SF ever met Moon cos i thought he hadn't #ive been batting this around for a while in the back of my head #but i dont write SF so i've never really had a need for it

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thrashkink-coven · 7 months ago

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One of the most valuable things that Lucifer has taught me is that being passionate is a virtue.

Lots of folks think that having bad bitch boss energy means being apathetic and stoic, or being unbothered by things and striking down all your enemies with an ice cold glare. Being unreadable and mysterious and unpredictable in a sexy way. I though that when I started working with Lucifer he would teach me how to be cold and distant so that I could ascend beyond any problem because I’m soooo enlightened.

But he taught me the exact opposite. He taught me not to glare coldly at my enemies, but to look them right in the eyes with sincerity and empathy to understand why they are the way that they are, and how to navigate the situation appropriately. I don’t have to destroy my enemies and conquer all, I must know when someone is toxic to me and be prepared to remove myself from those situations or find ways to navigate them in healthy ways. He taught me that I’m allowed to be mad when people mistreat me, I’m allowed to cry and get frustrated. I won’t yell or hurl insults, I’ll communicate how I feel and ensure that my feelings are heard even if not respected. My emotions and intentions do not have to be a puzzle to those who surround me, I have the power to put the pieces together with my words and actions.

And I will loudly and proudly love the things I love, ramble on and on about my favourite books and shows because he’ll always listen. And smile widely when I see my friends. Be cartoonishly and desperately in love with my partner and cherish him like every day was our last.

I’m allowed to be emotional about things that don’t matter, like a character death in a show I like or dropping my last gummy worm on the carpet. I’m allowed to get excited to see the moon or the sun or my cat. I’m supposed to be.

I don’t have to become a master manipulator who hacks into people’s minds to make them secretly obey me like I’m playing chess. I can become vigilant and detail oriented so I can discern peoples emotions and intentions to better connect with them as people and to offer them support wherever I can. I hope the people around me enjoy my company as a real person, not because they secretly admire and envy me.

I don’t need to be cool and calm and in control of everything just so other people can tell me what a boss bitch I am. I’m allowed to need breaks and ask questions when I’m confused. My dedication to my work and art will speak for itself.

Lucifer, the king, the emperor, the morning star, has always been admired for his incredible beauty and inspiration, but never once did he claim to be perfect. Most beautiful, most prideful, perhaps, but always so with all of his quirks and flaws. Even when he falls, he rises again. His intense loyalty and passion for knowledge is what makes him the light bringer. It never had anything to do with a cold glare or strict attitude, it was always an admiration of his love for his purpose. When the angels of the rebellion followed him it was not because he was cold and cunning, it was because he was an inspiration set ablaze in glory. He was warm and light and passionate.

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ceriphea · 1 year ago

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A Starry Night

Summary: A perfectly clear night left you to reminisce your time with Astarion. Allowing him to explore his own boundaries, he's finally made the plans to spend a night full of pleasure and joy out of his own free will with you.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav(Reader)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, little plot, oral sex, graphic language

Words: 4065

Additional: I may have just created a whole new side tumblr and satisfied my urge to write this down despite not long ago saying I wouldn't be writing anymore. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read! I aimed to keep from descriptions of Tav so you could picture your own as best as possible. :)

Read on Ao3

The night was quiet. Much quieter than usual. Quieter anyway since Lae’zel and Shadowheart decided to put peace on their bickering and allow another to live in each other’s presence. Most of the camp had been resting as it was your turn to keep watch for the night.

Not that there was much to look out for. If you don’t count random appearances of Mizora or vampire spawns. Most nights went by peacefully at this point. The only thing possibly interrupting a good night's rest were dunkards stumbling by the little camp your group had settled down in.

Your eyes were settled on the sky, clear as ever. Every single star was visible to your eyes and it brought a small smile across your lips. It reminded you of your first night with Astarion.

The two of you had started out as a fling. Something to make your situation a little more passable. After all, who didn’t enjoy good sex? However as time progressed and the more nights the two of you had spent together, the more the simple fun of having sex turned into feelings for another. It came easier for you than for the vampire.

Astarion was troubled, damaged from the years of torture and pain he had endured. The closer you became, the more you learned about his trauma. And that was how you learned that Astarion had not enjoyed himself during sex for a long time. Your initial reaction was hurt. Mainly because of your own trauma that you carry with yourself as well as the fact that you’d like to think you’d do well enough to please your partners. Though after the initial reaction you understood. For him sex had always been a technique for his victims. A mere measure to bait people into aiding to his will. And he did in fact enjoy what you two had just the drive was not what it was meant to be.

It was then, when you established your relationship with Astarion, showing him you cared about him beyond sex, that you told Astarion you wouldn’t have sex until he felt ready for enjoying it for the act that it is between two people that like each other. Not because he felt like he needed to just for the sake of it. To get an advantage out of it.

There were many times he had tried getting it on with you when you offered him your neck. He tried because he felt like he owed you for allowing him to drink off of you. However each time you turned him down for him to underline your point and make him understand he didn’t need to do something just to pay you back. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to have sex with him, you loved having him since he had been your best partner. You just wanted him to stop feeling like he was forced to have sex with no real meaning to him.

He understood after a while and now it had been a good amount of time since the last time you slept together. You couldn’t even recall how long exactly. Not that your mind was allowed to drift any further as the elf in question settled down to sit beside you.

“Pardon me, my love but I felt like my presence was required here,” Astarion said playfully, his red orbs gazing at you intently. Some of your thoughts must have slipped through to him thanks to that worm inside of your head. There was never any telling which thoughts you’d get to keep to yourself and which would be transferred over your illithid connection.

“Oh, did you now?” you inquired with a quirked brow aimed at him, trying to play it off like you haven’t been thinking all about him.

“Your thoughts are louder than you think, darling. It’s a surprise you haven’t woken up anyone else. Or perhaps they are now having sweet dreams about me,” he shrugged with a smirk, not once did his eyes leave yours. A slight blush crept upon your cheeks, fearing he heard more than you had expected. Not that it was anything to be ashamed of really but still, sometimes you liked to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“You wish,” scoffing, you rolled your eyes and let your eyes drift back to the sky again. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Astarion standing back up, his hand coming into your sight, an offer to help you up. “Come, I’d like to show you something.”

Once again your eyes met his before darting to his hand and back to his eyes. You were meant to keep watch and not exactly meant to go away from your post. And if you went with Astarion it could range anything from a few minutes to hours. As if he read your mind once again, the pale elf clicked his tongue and almost pushed his hand into your face.

“Come, no one is going to die. We’ll only be gone… shortly.” You knew he was full of shit but there was nothing else you could say against him. Finally placing your hand in his, Astarion pulled you to your feet. Instead of letting you go however, he pulled you in flush against him and pressed a peck to your lips. “There you go, now come on.”

Letting go of your hand, the vampire then started leading the way away from camp. It wasn’t exactly far but far enough to barely see the campfire flickering. The air here was slightly clearer, the streets now empty. It was rather late at night, anyone awake at this time was either at a tavern or in their homes.

“So where exactly are you taking me?” you asked, following your lover along. “If I tell you that would ruin the surprise. Now shush, we’re almost there.” A low chuckle escaped his throat. It was not exactly strange for him to have this sort of behavior, however something about him on this particular night just told you that he had something up his sleeve.

A minute or two later the two of you had arrived at a house, empty by the looks of it but kept well in shape. Astarions slight fingers worked on the lock before opening up the door and inviting you in as if it was his very own house. Did you just let him break into a random home without any complaint? Yes, you did. In many views the two of you had shared your perspectives and breaking into places was a common ground. Whether the group needed loot or your information was in it.

You figured that Astarion perhaps found some hidden treasure in here and wanted to reserve it for just you and him. It wouldn’t be the first time he had chosen to keep some valuables from the group in order to fend for you and him. But once you had entered the house, the elf swiftly moved behind you and chose to cover your eyes with his hands. You could feel his mouth near your ear by his warm breath first before he whispered, “Now walk as I tell you and keep those pretty eyes closed until I tell you to open them.”

Something about the way he spoke sent a tingle through your stomach and into your core. Perhaps it was a bit of deprivation of intimacy that made any sensual act like this even more exciting to you.

You trusted him with every single step, letting him guide you through the house that couldn’t be any quieter. Standing still for a moment, you heard him opening another door before your path continued shortly before you came to a final stop. “Open your eyes, my love,” his last words drew out in a seductive tone while his hands removed from your eyes. Opening them, you blinked a few times to adjust to the lighting in the room which was merely the night sky and the moon shining in through a wide set of windows.

Before you displayed a master bedroom, decorated neatly with a bed bigger than you’ve seen in the past few years of your adventures. This wasn’t just some treasure he had found, this was more. And the thought of it alone sent a contraction of urgency through your core, leaving a damp feeling in your pants. Oh, how weak you were. You didn’t dare speak, still taking in the room as Astarion came into view, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

“What do you think, dear?” his voice was merely above a whisper while his eyes burned into yours. Slowly Astarion inched closer, close enough to wrap one of his arms around your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. Even if you wouldn’t say anything, your hardened nipples pressing through your thin linen shirt against his chest would tell him everything.

“Who have you bribed to get in here?” you teased, not wanting to give into him too quickly. He knew how much you wanted him, you didn’t need to tell him.

“There was this drunk dwarf tumbling through the streets. I may have convinced him that this is in fact not his home. And by the looks of it, it may very well not be. Not for tonight anyway,” of course Astarion had to respond in a snarky manner just before his voice turned seductive again. You knew where this was going. And this time around, you weren’t going to stop him. All his last attempts had been whenever it wasn’t really convenient, mostly out in the open. This time he had taken the effort to find a nice and comfortable bed, a place of warmth.

“But you and I both know we aren’t here to talk about such unimportant matters. Rather we are here because I want to devour you,” he started, his voice dangerously low while his eyes darkened in desire, “I want to love on you. Every single inch of you.”

He had barely touched you and yet your cunt was getting drenched in arousal by the second. It had been a while since Astarion voiced his desires for you in this way and oh, it was a turn on. The room immediately felt a dozen degrees hotter as your lips crashed against Astarions, moving in a passionate pattern while his hand that was initially resting along your waist from being wrapped around you, moved down to cup your ass. One of your hands slid up his chest and further up until it was settled on the back of his head, grasping a handful of his hair while the vampire deepened the kiss. A small moan escaped your lips when the hand on your ass gave you a firm squeeze. You were almost sure that were his fingers to wander further inward and to your core, he could feel your wetness through your linen pants.

Though instead of wandering to your core, his hand wandered to the back of your thigh, his other hand joining on the other thigh before he picked you up. Both your legs immediately wrapped around his waist. Within a few quick strides Astarion carried you over to the bed and more or less dropped you onto the soft sheets.

Once more your lips met in a matter of passion and lust while the vampires hands now made their way to explore your body, tugging at your shirt in order to remove your clothing from your body. You were just about to interrupt the kiss and stop his wandering hands for a moment in order to ask him if he was certain this was what he wanted. That’s when your tadpoles connected and he let you know that this was something he wanted out of his own free will. Something he wanted to enjoy.

And therefore you only deepened the kiss, allowing your own hands to wander his body now, tugging at his very own shirt and pulling it over his head. Astarion used that moment to remove your shirt as well just before his mouth latched back onto you. This time however his lips met your collarbone, actively leaving out your neck. He did his best kissing your skin and nibbling at you without letting his teeth graze your skin. Your eyes closed as the vampire moved to devour you just as he had announced before.

Starting at your collarbone, his lips traveled down towards your breasts. While his hands cupped your round mounds, his tongue darted out tracing a wet line from the top of your breast to your hardened nipple and around it before his lips closed down on the sensitive nub providing it with a short sense of suction before letting his normal teeth tease for a moment. Then he moved on to do the exact same thing to your other breast. You couldn’t help but moan in pleasure, indecisive whether you wanted to close your eyes and simply enjoy the feeling or whether you wanted to watch him with his intense stare on you, aching to give you the pleasure he feels you deserve.

The choice came easy as your eyes automatically closed the second his lips started traveling further south past your navel and to the hem of your pants. Elegant fingers slipped right beneath the hem, taking your underwear with them as Astarion removed your pants in one go, leaving you entirely bare in front of him.

Only now that a slight breeze of air met your core, you realized just how wet you were. It was a surprise you hadn’t completely drenched your pants between your legs. Taking one of your ankles in hand, Astarion began peppering kisses all along the inside of your leg, positioning your leg angled on the bed and letting his lips travel until he almost met your core. Then he moved onto the other leg, once again mirroring the exact same motions which now had you with your legs spread and Astarions head lingering right in front of your raging hot core. “I want you to look at me while I feast on that delicious cunt of yours,” his voice was even lower now, arousal and hunger clouding his own senses while his hot breath fanned against your wetness. Just as he ordered you opened your eyes and glanced down at the elf between your legs. He looked like he had been starving for weeks and had the first real meal in front of him. And just like that he settled in and wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you in place as his tongue darted out between your folds, licking a long stripe up to your pulsating clit.

Once there his tongue ran slow circles around it. Once, twice and then his lips closed around the sensitive nub. He varied the pressure of his suction, earning several moans from you while it became increasingly more difficult not to roll your eyes into the back of your head and crumble under the pleasure you were feeling. Eventually he released your clit only to drag his tongue back through your folds, working you in all your favorite patterns. It didn’t take particularly long until you could feel your orgasm building up, blame it on the amount of time it had been since the two of you had sex.

Astarion could tell you were getting close, his thumb finding your clit to rub circles on it while his tongue kept swirling around your folds as well as penetrating your core to pleasure those sweet spots inside of you. Without warning your vision blurred while your insides contracted, attempting to clench around a cock yet being left empty while your orgasm rushed through you.

The vampire consumed every drop of your cum, working you through your orgasm until your hips stopped twitching. Your chest was heaving from your previous release, eyes once again meeting Astarion when he slowly withdrew himself from you if only to get rid of the rest of his clothing. His erection was standing tall and proud, precum smeared all across his tip. You licked your lips at the view. He moved in closer until he was leaning above you, almost getting into position. However you wanted to return the favor as much as you were dying to feel him inside of you. Your first thought was to just toss him over and take the upper hand, however this was all about giving him the choice. So you opted to give him the choice once more.

Before he had lined himself up at your entrance, you covered yourself with a hand and gazed straight into his eyes as he met yours with confusion. “May I suck you off?”

To others it may have seemed like a stupid thing to ask, however you wanted him to know he had all the freedom in the world to choose what he wanted. Astarion remained confused for a second or two more before capturing himself and nodding. “Of course darling, I’d love nothing more than to feel those sweet and luscious lips around my cock.”

His voice was almost like a purr as he removed himself from above you and settled down on the bed, leaned up against the headpost while you scrambled up to position yourself between his legs. Your core was still pulsating from your release or was it the need of being filled by that long and thick shaft that stood tall and proud in front of your face?

One soft hand wrapped around his shaft, giving it a pump or two as your lips traced kisses along his thighs until they settled at his balls, traveling up the length of him slowly until you reached his tip. Your hand settled at the base of his shaft, holding him in place now while your tongue slowly swirled around his tip, earning low moans from the vampire. You could tell he was less used to this sort of act as his eyes darted between arousal and uncertainty. With help of your tadpole you let him know that he was allowed to stop you whenever he felt like he needed to.

Your lips wrapped around his tip all the while your tongue still swirled around him. Keeping the pace slow, you slowly started taking him more into your mouth, relaxing your throat in order to take him as much as your body would allow. His breath hitched within his throat, chest heaving with pleasure while his eyes never left yours. Picking up the pace, your head started bobbing along his length, using the hand at the base of his cock to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth.

It wasn’t long however until Astarion gently pulled you off of his cock by your hair. His eyes had an apologetic touch within them before he spoke. “I need to have you, my love,” he spoke in an urgency. You understood and you wanted him to be in full control. “And I need you,” you responded with a gentle smile as you leaned up to capture his lips with yours. Your release still lingered on his lips, shooting another wave of heat right through to your core.

Astarion didn’t waste time deepening the kiss, easily spinning the two of you around in order to have you pinned beneath him again. With ease he settled between your legs, allowing his length to slide along your wetness a couple of times before reaching between you in order to line himself up with your entrance.

With one long push the vampire filled you with his entire length, stretching your insides deliciously. A gasp left your mouth at the fullness you had missed all this time. Astarion couldn’t keep himself from letting out a shaky breath either. He remained still within you for a moment or two, simply relishing in the feeling of your insides contracting around him over and over as your insides adjusted to the feeling of him inside of you.

“Please, fuck me…” you whispered against his lips, unable to take the stillness of him inside you any longer. Without any further notice, he withdrew himself almost entirely from you only to slide his entire length into you again. He kept on repeating the motion until he had picked up a moderate pace, each thrust earning a moan from you. You could tell it was different. Astarion had always been a rough lover. Fast and hard thrusts were his thing. Just a small glimpse at his face told you the whole story. Of how he was taking it slow in order to find his pleasure, his desire for this. His lips were kissing along your collarbone again, moving up to your neck until he hesitated.

Noticing the hesitation, your hand came up to the back of his head, bringing him in closer to your neck. You knew exactly what he was getting at. Or why he was hesitating. “Do it,” you moaned softly with his next thrust and that was all the confirmation he needed. His teeth immediately dug into the soft skin of your neck, the stinging pain feeling yet so pleasurable.

As he was drinking from you, Astarion had picked up his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and quicker. At this point he barely pulled even halfway out before his cock slammed back into you, brushing past all the good spots. Your moans picked up in volume, the mixed feeling of your cunt being pounded while your neck was being fed on combined an amount of pleasure you couldn’t even describe.

Astarion felt it too, the pleasure of the entire situation, how tasting your blood made his cock turn indefinitely harder, how your cunt clenched and your thighs quivered with each of his thrusts. And he knew that all of this was because he wanted it. Not because he had to gain advantage for something or to manipulate someone. He released your throat for a moment, the blood running down your neck and dripping onto the pillow beneath you, if only to moan out your name, “Tav..” he grunted, knowing his release was near. Slyly lifting your legs a little over his waist, you caused his cock to change the angle within you, brushing right past your g-spot and close to hitting your cervix with every thrust.

“Astarion..” you moaned in return, feeling your own release coming in closer. His head lifted from your neck, wanting to see your face and he hooked his arms underneath your knees and essentially lifted you up higher as his hips pounded against you. The sound of skin slapping against skin as well as both of your moans echoed throughout the room. It only took one more thrust and you were sent over the edge. Your thighs quivered against his hold, hips twitching and insides clenching wildly as your second orgasm of the night rushed through you. It felt like you lost control over your body as you were not able to control a single movement.

Seeing your pleasure filled self, Astarion pushed himself deep inside of you, his body coming to rest flush against you as his release emptied all the way inside you, his own hips stuttering with just how much he came.

Once he emptied himself entirely and both your bodies calmed from the intensity of your orgasms, he pulled his member out and settled on the non-bloody side of the bed, pulling you into his tight embrace.

“That was marvelous, darling…” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, not minding the blood remaining at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you.”

His voice was sincere and you knew this was it. He found his control. His own will. The one thing you had been working on with him. “Not for this, my beloved.” You countered softly, finding his lips for a kiss. You stopped caring for the taste of blood a long time ago.

The two of you had laid together, calming from your highs for a while longer. However this was not the end of the night just yet. You lost count of just how many times the two of you had sex that night. All you knew was that your shift of staying guard for the camp was long forgotten.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x fem!tav #fanfic #fanfiction

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