#theatrical flyer

[muramatsu-takehiko]

劇団東演『どん底』チラシ A4

劇団東演『どん底』のチラシ、ポスターをデザインしました。 この戯曲のざわめき、東演（ベリャコーヴィッチと）の『どん底』が持つソリッドな印象、新劇の歴史、ソビエト的な造形などを盛り込みながらデザインしています。 『どん底』、ひいては新劇を若者に届けたいという個人的な思いもありました。特にタイトルのレタリングにあたってはトレンドも意識しています。

再演のため過去の映像を見ながら、また、映画なども含めた他の『どん底』も見ながら、本作の特徴を捉え制作を進めました。 生々しい言葉や身体と、抽象的、幾何学的な表現とのぶつかり合いをかたちにしたいと試行錯誤しています。

タイトルも極端な平体にして、「底」を感じさせるような重心の低い画面にしています。

タイトルにロシア語を入れるかは悩ましいところでした（入れたのは、劇団の指示ではなく私の判断）。『どん底』にはさまざまなバリエーションが存在するので、邦題だけでは“和製”『どん底』に見えかねないと思い、キリル文字も加えています。

[lord-squiggletits]

Reread/skimmed my oldest Pharma apologism posts (mainly the ones about Pharma not being a functionist) and it just occurred to me that possibly another reason the fandom saddled Pharma with the "functionist bigot" label is because his introduction by First Aid says that everyone hates Decepticons, but Pharma really really hates Decepticons. Mix that with the portion of the fanbase that lionizes and whitewashes the Decepticons, and I can easily see it entering common fanon that "Pharma hates Decepticons -> the Decepticons are freedom fighters wrongly maligned by the Autobots/the franchise -> Pharma must be a bigoted functionist since he hates Decepticons who represent freedom."

The simpler explanation is just that Pharma is an antagonist and therefore gets the "everything about him must be evil and wrong" black-and-white analysis so common in fandoms in general, but given some of the bizarre Decepticon takes I've seen I can also easily see Pharma's Decepticon hatred being taken as a sign of him being bigoted and evil.

Though AGAIN in this case it would still be singling Pharma out as a bigot for crimes/flaws that multiple other Autobots are guilty of like.

Oh, Pharma hates Decepticons? Well a lot of other Autobots hate Decepticons too, First Aid's narration about Pharma even says "we all hate Decepticons"; for that matter, there are a lot of Decepticons who hate Autobots. It's a massive civil war that's lasted for a lifetime causing two groups of people to be stuck in a near-permanent blood feud, you can't assume that every Autobot who hates Decepticons (and vice versa) hates them because they're a bigot. Maybe there's been a war where both sides have been building an ever-increasing mountain of reasons to hate each other, so hating the opposite faction is a social problem caused by war and politics rather than a sign of individual moral failing.

Pharma worked at the New Institute so that means he must be evil/bigoted? Chromedome and Brainstorm also worked at the New Institute, but there's no widespread fandom shunning of them or headcanoning them as bigots.

Hell, even the very premise of assuming Pharma is a functionist bigot for hating Decepticons is ignoring the very premise of Pharma's motives, which are, uh... being blackmailed by the leader of the Decepticon Justice Division, who represents the ultimate form of Decepticon ideals to the point of literally wearing their symbol as his mask? So how were we jumping straight to "oh Pharma hates Decepticons bc he's a posh bigoted functionist" when there was a far more immediate interpretation/headcanon of "Pharma hates Decepticons because he's being tortured and blackmailed by one."

That's not to say that Pharma couldn't have hated Decepticons before Delphi, and I think you could make interesting headcanons/extrapolations based on either idea. But still. It kinda feels like people saw Pharma and just wanted to make him the Token Evil Autobot who's the opposite of our Good Heroic Autobots regardless of whether evidence from canon supported it or not.

Good riddance to bigoted functionist Pharma fanon, I'm so glad that the majority of Pharma fanon these days actually gives him a chance and puts him on equal footing as other Autobots.

[sideysvault]

˖⁺‧₊The 5 times Deadpool calls you ‘babygirl’₊‧⁺˖

Pairing: Wade Wilson x fem!reader

wc 0.8k

Tags: Minors dni. Foul language, canon typical violence, smut, established relationship.

────────

1. The apartment was dimly lit. It was a chilly September afternoon. Both of you were parading around, frantically looking for all the flyers and menus that local restaurants have left at your door and car ever since you moved into the neighborhood. You had been arguing about what to order for dinner for approximately forever. And you guys were starving.

“Thai.” 

“Not so quickly, hot stuff. We had that shit last week. Mexican.”

“We have Mexican food all the time. I love it but enough is enough”.

The man let out a theatrical gasp and exclaimed “Enough Mexican food? What’s next?” Taking a deep breath, he began making a poor imitation of your high-pitched voice “Enough of you! Enough of us!

You held in an amused giggle. He had the ability to make mundane endeavors quite entertaining.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll be an awesome boyfriend and cook for you tonight. Sounds good, babygirl?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sound of that word.

“What did you just call me?”

Wade got up from his seat and started to make his way into the kitchen. Just as he is walking behind you, he smacks your ass while giving your temple a soft kiss.

“Stop being difficult”

By the time he arrived at the kitchen counter, you had him trapped with a hug from behind. Leaving soft, sloppy kisses all over his back, neck and shoulders. You really loved it when he cooked.

2. Wade had no plans of introducing his partner to what he considered nothing more than losers in spandex. But now that he was presented with the opportunity, he was quite pleased with himself. A sense of pride filled his chest with a feather-like sensation. He still wasn’t sure of how a woman like you could even date him, but he was glad you did.

“Baby, this is the Russian tin man and his teenage sidekick, Guys, this is my beautiful sexy babygirl”

You immediately feel your face heating up with embarrassment. Luckily, the duo seems to be very accustomed to your boyfriend's antics. They quickly laughed it off with a roll in their eyes.

At the end of the day, he may be the biggest asshole in the world, but they are happy to see Wade in a good, normal relationship. Or at least, as normal as you could get with him.

3. He could feel you wince in pain with every step he took. Your nails were digging into his skin with such force that Wade was pretty sure it was making him bleed. But as long as he got you to the hidden safety offered by the forest near the road, nothing mattered. He tried to put you down as gently as he could. No matter his efforts, as soon as he laid you on the humid duff, you let out something stuck between a gasp and a scream. And as soon as Wade heard it, he felt his heart stop.

It was your very first time getting shot. And it has been his fault.

“It’s okay baby girl, I got you. Just look at me, okay?”

“I know it hurts, baby. We’ll fix it. Brand new. I promise.”

He did not soften the hand which he used to apply pressure on your wound. And he did not let his protective hug soften either.

4. The bedsheets felt humid. You assumed it came from the salty sweat on your body. The woman had been awoken by a nightmare for the third time this week. You panicked for a second, feeling the warm sensation of breath behind your neck. But you soon realized that it was Wade. He had his arms around your waist, and you could hear a light snort coming out of the man. You let out a breath you did not know you were holding.

You two were together, at home. Turning around to face him and hide your face in the crook of his neck, pulling yourself as physically close to your boyfriend as you could. He woke up with a groan. Wade kissed your forehead and sloppily rearranged the messy hair out of your face. You could hear him mumbling sweet nothing as he tightens his grip on you and softly tracing invisible lines on your back.

“Go back to sleep, baby girl. You are safe”.

 5 -The cold sensation of the wall against your nipples was completely intoxicating.

Your head felt dizzy because of the constant stimulation. You were pretty sure you were about to pass out. But Wade’s hand kept your head in place, while he left a thrilling trail of kisses all over your neck and back.

The woman lets out a whine almost every time she feels the thrusts. Her pussy was filled with the overwhelming tingles of a denied orgasm.

“You can do it, babygirl, you are so fucking tight. Keep it up, honey”.

Your hand reached for the back of his head, pulling his head closer as he pounded into you with more strength than before.

His hand covered your mouth as he mumbled into your ear “Bite it. We are not over yet”.

────────

Notes: Hi pretty! Thank you so much for your follow and your requests! I hope to write them all soon. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy reading this one. Take care! -Sidey xxo

Based on this request.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

A Rather Short and Sharp Descent (Beetlejuice One-Shot)

Betelgeuse x AFAB!GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: When you'd struck a deal with the demonic ghost, you'd not expected to fall for him. Perhaps less so, you hadn't expected to be tumbling quite down this path...

Fic Type: Smut (dumbification, daddy kink, slight degradation tw)

Everything Tag List: @winchxters  @calliopesdiary

Betelgeuse Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Had it been two hours or three? More? You can't remember- you can't even remember what time of the day it is. You can remember the magically altered sets of fingers and tongues that have thoroughly fucked you from the inside out, though.

It's not like he'd let you forget that, anyway.

“Aww, lookit that, dollface. Nothin’ in there, huh? Good. That’s the way ol’ Beej likes it. Doin’ a good job, babe.”

You tried to respond, but it just came out as a garbled moan.

"Yeah, that's it. Just a little fuckinnn mess for me, aintcha?"

Your brows pinched, mouth dropping open as his fingers felt like they pulsed inside you. They probably did, knowing him. Beej laughed above you, eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. Oh, he was going to make you work for it.

"B-Beej," you drooled, and he pouted at you mockingly in response.

"Look atcha, tryin' to make sentences and everything. It'd be cute if it weren't so pathetic, huh?" Another second and his free hand swatted at your ass, the sting biting- not that you didn't love the pain. "Beej, Beej, Beej, huh? Yeah, you fuckin' love me an' my thick fuckin' cock, babe."

And you did. You couldn't wait for him to fuck you with it. That ache begging for him inside you was starting to make you antsy. Sure you had his physically altered fingers buried inside you, but it wasn’t the same. God, it would never be the same as having him leer over you, cock twitching from the inside. 

Truth be told, you weren’t even sure how you’d managed to get yourself into this situation in the first place. You’d found a flyer that had quite literally blown into your face on the street one day and said the name three times with such disbelief that you had all but died of a heart attack when the being belonging to said name appeared so suddenly and with a ridiculous amount of theatrics.

Then it was on to the business of making deals, of course. Betelgeuse had let you know in his round-a-bout way that he’d noticed you had a pesky little problem that needed fixing and he was more than happy to do the job. There was, of course, just the matter of payment, though. Sure, he could scare the absolute fuck out of your roommate until they fucked off into the sunset but not without payment. Nothing much, not your soul or anything. No, what Betelgeuse wanted from you was, of all things… a kiss. 

Naturally, you’d been suspicious that planting one (with tongue, as he had insisted) onto a demonic ghost with a penchant for absolute chaos wouldn’t come with any other side effects, such as selling your soul over or something. But a kiss? Just one kiss? Surely that wouldn’t be too bad. 

As it turns out, it didn’t have any side effects that you were expecting. Instead, it led you down a path with a rather short and sharp descent into the circles of Hell. Sin, specifically. Either way, it was a short path with many tongues, fingers and cocks to ease your way down. 

You didn’t even realise how fast you fell for him. Nor he for you, most likely. But soon enough he was around often enough that you couldn’t call it a fling any more. This was something different. You’d caught him sizing your ring finger the other night, actually. Eyeballing it, mostly, but you could tell what that eye meant. 

“‘Ey, babe- you in there? Or are y’too fucked dumb to respond anymore, huh?” 

You groaned, thoughts hazing in and out a little, though they were brought sharply into focus as he withdrew his fingers and stuck his rather long tongue out to lick them clean.

Seeing your hungry gaze, he offered them to you next—an offering you took up without an ounce of hesitation. Fuck, you tasted good. 

Those very same fingers slid from your mouth and down around your throat, brushing against the thrum of your pulse beneath your soft, thin skin. It would take almost nothing for him to kill you. But he wouldn’t. He was too fond of you- his favourite Flesh Bag as he called you. 

His eyes glinted above you, drinking in the sight of your spit-slick lips, red and swollen. Your throat pressed against his fingers, warmer than you’d expect for a dead man. Slowly, softly, he pushed you down onto your back, legs bent and spread wide for him to slot his hips between. 

Finally, finally, you were going to get what you needed. 

“Uh-uh, my precious little dummy, not yet. You think you deserve this cock? D’you really? Think hard on it now, hard as I know that is for your empty little brain.” 

“Y-yes,” you replied almost instantly, trying to roll your hips against him- trying to goad him into fucking you dumb just the way you like. Well. Dumber. 

“‘Y-yes’ what, babe?” 

Risking a glance at his expression, your mouth practically watered at the carnal look there. Dark, hungry. He wanted this just as much as you did. Needed it, even, perhaps. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

“That’s it. That’s fuckin’ it, babe. Fuckin daddy-o, that’s me.” 

You rolled your eyes, starting to come out of the haze a little now despite the slap of his cock against your clit. He was doing it to tease you, the fucker. 

“Beej, if you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I might go genuinely insane.” 

“Ladies and gents,” Betelgeuse snorted, talking to an invisible audience. “Can’t keep ‘em off me, eh? Desperate little thing. Cute though.” 

But despite the pleasure he usually got from torturing you from hours on end (you think as if he hadn’t just spent the last two to three hours fingerfucking you to oblivion), he gave in, softly rolling his hips against you- sinking inside so slowly you almost felt like yelling at him to just hurry up. 

“Ohh, fuck me,” you moaned, head dropping back against the pillows as he finally sunk completely inside you. The thing about Beej was that he was always able to alter any of his shapes to be exactly what you needed when you needed it. And today, he knew you wanted someone on the larger side. Not that you wouldn’t be happy with average, either, but sometimes there was just a need for something a little more specific. Beej knew that, too. 

“Alright, alright,” he huffed amusedly, punctuating the sentence with one of his very unique laughs. “Shut up for me a sec, babe,” he said, placing a hand over your mouth as he pulled back and slammed back against you. “Yeah, that’s it.” 

He set a punishing pace, eyes rolling quite literally into the back of his head with pleasure. While the object of torture had been you over the last few hours, there was some element of torture for him, too, not being able to sink balls deep into your tight little cunt and fuck you until he was sated. But not anymore. 

Slowly as he fucked you, his hand slipped from your mouth, allowing your pretty moans to escape into the heated air. Betelgeuse moaned, running his hand down your throat and down your side to grip at your hip. His fingers squeezed harshly into the soft muscle there, and you tilted your hips as best as you could to rock back against him. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Betelgeuse groaned, leaning down to shower sharp bites down your neck and shoulders. He always had been a biter. There was something about the contrast of the blood coming to the surface under the skin, the way those indents slowly softened into pretty bruises spreading across your skin like a grim meadow that drove him insane. “Not gonna last long, babe.” 

That was okay with you, you weren’t going to last long either. You hadn’t realised how fast you were approaching your orgasm- and the deadline skyrocketed closer as his hand disappeared between your legs where you were most sensitive. 

“God, fuck, Beej- I, fuck, like that, please,” you cried out, reaching out to encircle your arms around his shoulders. You pulled him down and over you. From an outside perspective, you were absolutely sure that he would look like a violent predator about to rip apart his prey. 

His hips fucked into you without mercy, fingers rubbing against your most sensitive area. Your mouth was open in a practically permanent ‘o’- something that Betelgeuse took full advantage of as his lips landed on yours. His tongue flicked at your lower lip and it was that in conjunction with the savage thrust of his hips and non-stop-just-right fingers that catapulted you right over that edge. 

With a cry you weren’t sure actually made any sound or not, you felt your pleasure bubble over like a boiling pot on a stove, spilling over the edges and roiling up your spine. You could feel your orgasm all the way in your toes and even in your scalp, you realised distantly. 

Oh, wait, no, that was Betelgeuse’s fingers knotted in your hair, pulling as he chased his own orgasm now, hips choppy yet brutal. Every thrust forced your orgasm out longer, tingles of pleasure shooting through your nerves even as you started to come down from it. 

“Oh, oh, yeah, that’s it, babe. Fuckin little toy for daddy, aintcha- yeah,” he rambled with pleasure, eyes screwed tight as he finally, finally came- 

You sagged into the bed as he slowly stopped thrusting, cock still inside you. With a grunt, he laid down on top of you, forcing a grunt out of you as he did so. Your hand raised lazily to rub at his back. 

“Fuck, Beej,” you panted, eyes drifting closed as the glow started to overtake you. “You’re going to ruin me.” 

Betelgeuse snorted playfully, already starting to recover. He had a freaky ability to be able to go, and go, and go- and then barely need rest afterwards. Perks of being dead, you supposed. 

“What, like I ain’t already?” 

Well, you couldn’t argue with that. 

[blackenedsnow]

Can you do a one shot of Art The Clown x actress reader?! Like when he sees her he gets all excited like with santa but he doesn't want to hurt her but she's still like 😨😨😨😨😨

silent curtain call

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Art the Clown x Actress! Reader

NOTE: Hi anon! I absolutely loved this idea—it’s so fun. I hope you enjoy and sending all the best vibes your way!

SUMMARY: A late-night encounter at a nearly empty movie set leaves you face-to-face with the infamous Miles County Clown.

The set was dead quiet.

The crew had packed up hours ago, leaving only you and a handful of stragglers tying up loose ends. The horror flick you were starring in had been plagued with delays, and now you were running overtime under dim work lights, trying to wrap the final scene.

As you made your way back to your trailer, exhaustion draped over you like a heavy cloak. The parking lot was nearly deserted, lit by a handful of flickering streetlights. You sighed, unlocking your door and dropping your bag inside when a sound made you pause.

A faint crack.

You froze. It was soft, but it carried through the air, cutting through the silence like a knife.

“Probably some intern messing around,” you muttered under your breath. Still, your heart started to pound.

Turning, you scanned the lot and caught a glimpse of something—or someone—standing just beyond the reach of the nearest streetlight. A figure, tall and unmistakable in black-and-white stripes, tilted its head at you.

The Miles County Clown.

Your stomach dropped, and a shaky laugh escaped your lips.

“Okay, very funny. You almost got me,” you called out, though your voice wavered. “Who put you up to this? Alan? Because I swear—”

The figure stepped forward, revealing more of himself under the dim light. The clown’s pale, corpse-like face and blackened eyes met yours, and he grinned, his sharpened teeth glinting in the light.

This wasn’t a costume.

Your blood turned to ice as the realization slammed into you like a freight train.

That wasn’t someone dressed as Art the Clown.

That was Art the Clown.

Your knees locked, your breath caught in your throat. You’d read the stories, seen the reports. You knew what this thing did to people, and the fact that he was standing there, grinning at you like you were the funniest joke he’d ever heard, made you want to scream.

Art didn’t move for a moment. He just stared, his head bobbing slightly from side to side as if deciding what to do with you. Then, to your horror, he raised a hand and waved.

Like you were old friends.

You forced yourself to take a step back, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“H-hello,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I-I don’t want any trouble, okay?”

Art’s grin widened, and he pulled out his tiny black hat, placing it on his head with exaggerated flair. Then he gave you an overdramatic bow, one hand sweeping out to the side like he was performing on stage.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Look,” you said, your voice trembling, “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I’m not—I’m not gonna bother you, okay? Just… just leave me alone.”

Art straightened up and clapped his hands silently, his shoulders shaking with laughter you couldn’t hear. Then he pointed at you, then at himself, and made a heart shape with his hands.

Oh, God. He wasn’t leaving.

He took a step closer, and you instinctively backed up until your back hit the door of your trailer. Your mind raced, desperately trying to remember everything you’d read about him.

He loved theatrics.

He didn’t speak.

He enjoyed playing with his victims before…

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening.

But… he wasn’t attacking you.

Not yet, at least.

Art’s expression suddenly brightened, like he’d just remembered something. Reaching into his bag, he rummaged around for a moment before pulling out a crumpled flyer—your movie poster. He held it up triumphantly, pointing at your face on the poster and then at you, nodding excitedly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath. He recognized you.

He tapped the poster again, then gave you a thumbs-up, his grin widening to impossibly creepy proportions. He was… a fan?

The absurdity of the situation almost made you laugh, but fear kept you frozen.

“Uh, thanks,” you managed to croak. “That’s… nice of you.”

Art clapped his hands again, silently applauding. Then, without warning, he pointed at your ankle, mimed tripping, and fell flat on his back with an exaggerated thud, his legs kicking in the air.

You blinked. He was… reenacting one of your scenes.

It was so surreal, so bizarre, that for a moment, your fear gave way to utter confusion. “What… what are you doing?”

Art sprang back up like a jack-in-the-box and gave you a smug little shrug, as if to say, What can I say? I’m hilarious.

Despite every instinct screaming at you to run, you found yourself rooted in place, too terrified to move but too intrigued to look away. Art was watching you closely now, his head tilted, his expression almost… expectant.

“Uh, great performance,” you said weakly, hoping to appease him. “Really… uh… really nailed it.”

His grin stretched even wider, and he mimed taking a bow again.

Then he reached into his bag.

You tensed, your breath catching as you braced yourself for whatever horrifying weapon he was about to pull out. But instead, he produced a handful of fake flowers, the kind that squirted water, and held them out to you.

You stared at them, then at him. Your hands shook as you slowly took the flowers, half expecting them to explode or spray acid or something equally horrific. But they didn’t.

“…Thanks?” you said hesitantly.

Art gave you a cheerful nod, then pointed at the poster again, tapping your face and giving you another thumbs-up.

It hit you then—he wasn’t here to hurt you. Not tonight, anyway. He was excited to see you, like a fan meeting their favorite celebrity.

That realization didn’t make him any less terrifying, but it gave you a tiny sliver of hope. Maybe, just maybe, if you kept playing along, you could get out of this alive.

“Well, it’s been… uh, great meeting you,” you said cautiously, clutching the fake flowers like a lifeline. “But I should probably… you know, get going.”

Art’s grin faltered slightly, and he tilted his head, looking almost disappointed.

“Um… maybe I’ll see you around?” you added quickly, your stomach twisting as the words left your mouth.

He brightened at that, nodding enthusiastically. Then, with one final bow, he turned and skipped off into the darkness, his bag swinging at his side.

You didn’t move until you were sure he was gone. Then you bolted into your trailer, locking the door and sinking to the floor with the flowers still clutched in your hands.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to process what had just happened.

You’d just met the Miles County Clown.

And somehow, you were still alive.

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

💞 — in which you try to unionize the mostro lounge, but the boss, azul, just happens to be your boyfriend.

💞 — azul ashengrotto x reader

💞 — warnings: just a little suggestive, not explicit.

💞 — 1.6k words.

“No, you guys—we need to fight for our rights. By any means necessary,” 

Jade and Floyd looked at you in amusement and annoyance, respectively. You could not be seriously trying to unionize the Mostro Lounge. Azul was probably the most pro-capitalist/anti-union guy on campus. He had justified roping you, his beloved, into working overtime with the excuse of “it's for the profit motive, sweetheart” and yet you still stupidly thought you could manage to unionize his establishment? It was cute.

The more sneaky of the twins laughed, politely hiding his grin behind his immaculately gloved hand, “And you plan to do this how?” he asked.

A blush of embarrassment trailed up your neck and to your ears. You had very little experience with grassroots organizing—which meant you were drawing a blank, “Uhm—I don’t know. We… uh… we should make demands and find a cool name for our union,”

“Unions schmunions—let's just not come to work,” whined Floyd.

You shook your head, “We need a union before we try going on strike… uhm, how about ‘Night Raven Labor Organization’? It rhymes and would look good on a flyer,” you suggested, placing your fist in your palm. You were embarrassingly desperate at this point. Your boyfriend was constantly tricking you into working sickeningly long hours for him, claiming it was fine since you guys were dating and he helped you pass alchemy—but still.

Jade was entertained, so he indulged in your theatrics, “Oh, that sounds wonderful. Do not worry yourself over the flyers, I… I will handle that,” he said, purposefully pausing just to watch the suspicion creep into your mind.

Before you could reject him, Floyd stood and lazily draped his arms over your shoulders, “You know, you’re gonna break Azul’s heart, being against him like this,” he said, a sudden toothy grin coming over his features at the thought of what chaos could come from your silly plan, “Standing against your ‘sweet Zuzu’ for the working class,” 

You frowned at him, “We–well, something needs to be done, even if it means his feelings are mildly hurt.”

The plan was in motion. You had already gone ahead and spoken with the other employees at the lounge, and while most were apprehensive—fear of Azul was pretty common—some still believed that you could convince your boyfriend to be kinder to his workers. Jade had told you he made flyers, and you were heading over to the lounge to go check them out, and then meet up with the others for the meeting. 

But the moment you walked in, Floyd shoved you towards the office with a giddy grin, “Shrimpy’s in trouble…” he whispered.

You stiffened, “Huh? What do you mean? Floyd—”

“Azul wants to talk to you,” he told you, knocking on the office door before scurrying off, leaving you to gulp and adjust your necktie.

Azul opened the door with a suave grin, gently wrapping his arm around you, his hand lingering at the small of your back, “Ah, sweetheart,” he said, affectionately kissing your temple. He pulled you inside, shutting the door with his foot before guiding you towards one of the sofas in his office, “You’re looking as gorgeous as ever,” he added, pouring you a glass of fruit cordial before taking his seat across from you, his hands folded on his cane and his legs crossed.

You always hated how smooth he was, “Ahaha…” he laughed awkwardly, “Uhm… you wanted to talk?”

One of his brows raised, “Do I need an excuse to see my beloved?”

“O–Oh, no, of course not—I just mean—”

His laugh cut you off. Sevens, how you loved that laugh, “You’re so nervous…” he trailed off, his bluish-purple eyes tracing over the ceiling before making their way towards your eyes, a single brow raised.

You were nervous. Hell, this was the most bizarre experience ever. You were unionizing your boyfriend’s establishment—you spent the night in his dorm room, just for you to wake up the next day and have secret meetings with his employees. You were ashamed, but not enough to quit the union. Azul had been abusing his power for too long now. Your lips had parted to speak, but you were cut off when he slammed two papers on the coffee table.

One was a flyer with a pig-like depiction of the bourgeoisie, dressed in a fancy suit and surrounded by money, and the second was the union demands which you were supposed to go over with the other employees today.

“Azul—I… I can explain—”

“How cute.” Azul gently tapped his foot as he watched your face fill with horror at being caught too early, “For a union organizer, you’re pretty disorganized. You trusted Jade with the flyers? The fact that you trusted Jade with anything is just hilarious,” he said, letting his cane lean against the sofa. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

“Listen, Azul…” you started, before he cut you off, with a mere raise of the hand. That bastard Jade—

He cleared his throat before picking up the page of demands, “‘We members of the Night Raven Labor Organization…’ did you come up with the name, love? It’s nice. It rhymes, seems you do pay attention to my marketing rambles. Anyways, ‘We members of the Night Raven Labor Organization are proposing a chance of bargaining before any attempts of protest or striking,’ ooh, look at you, threatening me. How adorable,” he said, grinning at your embarrassed face. 

You hid your face behind your hands, groaning softly as your face started to feel extremely hot. You peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers, seeing that smug smile on his face, “Azul… this was a last resort,” you tried to explain, but he only set the page down and stood up again.

It was not like you did anything wrong. He was overworking his employees—he’s lucky you did not go Karl Marx on the guy and encourage the workers to arm themselves against him. When you met his eyes again, he was standing in front of you, gazing down at your seated form with a neutral expression. 

He was thinking of how to proceed. On one hand, you were the love of his life, and on the other hand, you were working against him. When he first heard of it, he was hurt, but after some reflection, he knew he could make you give up on this.

With a gloved hand, Azul traced over your face, enjoying the way you looked when you sat in front of him, gazing up as he stood. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb lazily tracing over your bottom lip. His pale skin was covered with a little blush over how your breath hitched, “You wouldn’t want to hurt me, would you?” he asked, leaning closer.

You shook your head as much as you could while in his grasp, “No, Azul… it's just—well, uhm, you know,” he stammered.

He played up a soft frown on his lips, and he felt your eyes trail to the beauty mark beneath his lip, “But, angel… when I saw that you were unionizing behind my back,” he paused, and sighed, brows furrowing slightly. He played you like a fiddle, “I was just so hurt,” he confessed. In reality, Azul did not care enough to be brokenhearted over your union attempts.

“I’m sorry, Azul,” you told him, and you were about to protest again, but he shook his head.

“If you had concerns, you could have just told me,” You bit your tongue, despite how you wanted to tell him that you had tried to complain to him and he put the profit motive above everything else. Instead, you just pouted and nodded to his words. You couldn’t help it. All you wanted to do now was kiss him since he got so close.

Azul’s hand remained on your face as he glanced back at the flyer, “And a fat rich man, angel? Really?”

“I didn’t make the flyers,” you blurted.

His gaze softened. He had you right where he wanted you, nodding to your words to make you relax before he leaned down and kissed your head. And then he bent down a bit to meet your lips, kissing you like you wanted. Azul’s hand slipped from your jaw to your shoulder, while his other hand rested at the backrest of the sofa so that he could lean down. 

Your hands immediately darted to grab him closer, tugging on his uniform blazer as your lips parted for breath, “Azul….”

He was blushing too, lips parted as he panted to catch his breath, “I thought I was an evil capitalist—what happened to your union?” he asked, teasing you.

Your brows furrowed softly and just pulled him in again, capturing his lips once again and groaning against his lips as you took the chance to take control, pulling him down on the sofa with you.

Azul’s eyes widened in surprise, his hat slipping off and his glasses nearly joining if he hadn’t held them up in time.

You showed up to the union meeting late, with your clothes all disheveled and your hair a mess.

“My, my,” chuckled Jade, as he took in your appearance with his piercing eyes. He knew that this would all end up like this, with you being too quick to bend to the will of his boss, and his boss being manipulative enough to get you to forget about your ambitious goals.

Floyd frowned, “Does this mean we’re not getting guns to threaten the capitalist class??”

Sevens, what a major fail.

©rooksamoris 2024. do not steal or translate my work!

[youngsadlesbian]

REFLECTION OF ANOTHER STAGE

pairing: taylor swift x daughter!reader

summary: while taylor swift is dominating the stage and winning over crowds, you’re discovering your own talent—but not in the music spotlight. theater and acting have caught your eye, and every school play or amateur short film is a chance to shine. the problem? taylor is so immersed in her tour and career that she never realized how much you’ve fallen in love with another art form.

a/n: i'm completely obsessed with taylor swift x daughter!reader stories and i decided to bring this one (and others) here. hope you like it!

word count: 1k

warnings: pure fluff

Taylor Swift’s return home was quiet—at least, as quiet as it could be when you’re Taylor Swift. The house felt untouched, save for the subtle changes that only a mother would notice. A new plant by the window. A different candle burning on the kitchen counter. And a script, thick and dog-eared, sitting on the couch as if someone had just been rehearsing.

Taylor paused mid-step, brow furrowing as she picked it up. Scribbles in the margins, highlighted lines, and character notes sprawled across the pages.

“What in the…” she mumbled, flipping to the cover.

“The Phantom of Middlebury – A Theatrical Experience by the Senior Drama Club” And there it was. Your name, bold and unmistakable, under the cast list.

Taylor’s eyes darted to the kitchen, where a colorful flyer was pinned to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a cat.

“OPENING NIGHT: FRIDAY! COME WATCH THE MAGIC UNFOLD!”

Taylor squinted at the words as if they might rearrange themselves into something less surprising.

How did she miss this?

\*/

That night, as you sat at the dinner table scrolling on your phone, Taylor casually brought it up.

“So… this play on Friday?” she asked, ladling pasta onto your plate. “I saw the flyer.”

Your fork hovered mid-air, and your eyes flickered to hers in alarm. “Oh. Yeah. It’s just a small thing. School play.”

Taylor’s head tilted, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Small thing? There’s glitter on the flyer, and it’s literally the only thing on the fridge. It’s practically screaming for attention.”

You laughed nervously. “I didn’t think you’d be that interested. It’s not like… y’know, music or anything.”

Taylor leaned forward on her elbows. “Let me get this straight. I can write ten-minute ballads about the most niche feelings, and you think I wouldn’t want to watch my own daughter perform on stage?”

You shrugged. “It’s not the same. Acting is just something I do for fun.”

“Fun is where it starts.” Taylor pointed at you with her fork. “Don’t underestimate fun.”

\*/

Taylor was not subtle.

She arrived at the school auditorium a full thirty minutes early, armed with oversized sunglasses, a hoodie, and, to your horror, a giant sign that read: “YOU’RE MY ARTIST OF THE YEAR!”

The auditorium was dimly lit, and she sat front row, smack in the middle, like a VIP section had been reserved just for her.

As you peeked from backstage, dread filled your stomach.

“Oh my God,” you whispered to your friend, “she brought a sign.”

Your friend stifled a laugh. “Is that Taylor Swift? With a handmade poster?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

And there she was—Taylor Swift, internationally recognized superstar—grinning ear to ear with glitter penmanship like it was her first concert ever.

The play began.

Each time you stepped on stage, Taylor leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, fully absorbed.

When you delivered your monologue, she whispered (loudly): “She’s so talented… I mean, look at her.”

A couple of parents chuckled nearby, and your teacher threw a glance in Taylor’s direction.

At the dramatic climax, Taylor let out a very audible, “YES! THAT’S MY DAUGHTER!” accompanied by a clap that echoed across the auditorium.

By curtain call, your cheeks burned. As you bowed, you could practically hear Taylor snapping photos with the enthusiasm of a proud soccer mom.

When you finally escaped backstage to peel off your costume, Taylor was waiting in the hall, holding a bouquet of roses and… cupcakes?

“Cupcakes, Mom? Really?” you teased, plucking one from the box.

Taylor grinned, shrugging. “I was going for a whole ‘proud mom but also dessert enthusiast’ vibe. Nailed it, right?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but warmth filled your chest.

\*/

A few days later, Taylor knocked on your bedroom door with an excited glimmer in her eye.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began, sitting cross-legged on your bed, “I’m filming the video for ‘right where you left me’ next week. The director’s been looking for someone to play the lead actress in it.”

You nodded slowly, not sure where this was going.

“And… I thought maybe you could do it.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what? You want me to be in the music video?”

Taylor nodded earnestly. “You’re already in acting mode, and it’s not a flashy video. It’s… very folk, you know? Moody, emotional. I think you’d be perfect.”

You hesitated. “Isn’t that… nepotism or something?”

Taylor laughed. “Nepotism is hiring you because you exist. I’m hiring you because you’re good.”

You stared at her, unsure. But the excitement in her voice, the softness in her gaze—it was real.

“Alright,” you said finally. “I’ll do it.”

\*/

The set was a rustic café, straight out of the evermore universe. Dusty light streamed through the windows, illuminating vintage furniture and chipped cups.

You sat at the table, dressed in a muted vintage gown, the air heavy with silence. The director adjusted the camera as Taylor hovered nearby, watching intently.

“Okay,” the director called. “Action.”

You stared off into the distance, eyes glassy, hands trembling slightly. The scene demanded heartbreak—the weight of being left behind.

Taylor’s gaze never left you.

During a break, she leaned over. “You’re incredible. Seriously. I almost cried.”

You smirked. “Almost?”

“Fine. I cried a little. Whatever.”

She pulled out her phone, snapping more behind-the-scenes photos. “Hold the cup like that—yes! You’re the actress of the year.”

When the video finally premiered, social media lit up.

“WHO IS THIS GIRL IN TAYLOR’S VIDEO??” “Wait… is that her daughter? She’s SO good!”

Taylor wasted no time.

“Yup. That’s my girl. ❤️” she posted, sending fans into a frenzy.

The hashtag #TalentSwift trended for days.

You watched the flood of comments, half embarrassed, half exhilarated. For once, it wasn’t just about being Taylor Swift’s daughter. It was about you.

“You know,” Taylor said one night as you scrolled through your phone, “I always thought the stage was mine. But I think it might be yours too.”

And sitting there beside her, you realized she was right.

[creepyclothdoll]

Turkey Day

I didn’t scream when Deb brought out the platter. The dish was large, white, and decorated with little porcelain angels– the ‘good china’ for special occasions. I had thought there was something grotesque about those little porcelain angels before Deb set her masterpiece upon it. 

It was the conflict-avoidance in me that stopped the scream. But it didn’t stop my jaw from dropping. 

“Mom, you said you weren’t going to do this this time,” Derrick said through his hands. 

“Well, no, I told you on the phone, we had a surprise visitor yesterday,” said Deb.

“Bet you never saw a thanksgiving turkey like that in Minneapolis,” Trent grunted at me, before smugly, theatrically stabbing into a roast arm with his fork. He seemed pleased that I didn’t have a response. My mouth just wouldn’t form words. I couldn’t move, or speak. 

“I didn’t–” Derrick finally took his fingers off of his nose. “You said, last month, that you were going to do a turkey this year.”

Trent stuffed an enormous forkful of stringy grey meat into his mouth and chewed, staring at me all the while without blinking.

“No, sweetie, you’re remembering wrong,” Deb, who would not look at me at all, argued in her gentle sing-song voice. She was short and thin with a fading blonde bob and grey roots. She wore a beige sweater over a beige dress. “I said your dad wasn’t up for it, with his hip, and with my sciatica and your brothers gone, I just didn’t think we could manage it this year. But then yesterday, around four, just about when I was unwrapping the frozen turkey, the doorbell rang! Trent, please.” Deb slapped Trent’s hand as it reached for another big forkful of meat. “Wait till I carve some for everyone first, for Christ’s sake. Poor Lexi is sitting there thinking ‘oh, these redneck McCabes, bunch of barbarians raised in a barn.’”

“It’s fine,” I said automatically. This was the first movement of my muscles since Deb brought out the platter. “I don’t think that.” 

“You don’t have to be so nice,” Deb replied. “I can take it.”

Derrick was staring at me now, too. His hand passed under the table to squeeze mine.

“Why couldn’t you just carve it in the kitchen?” Trent huffed.

“That’s not how Thanksgiving dinner works, dear,” Deb replied. Her thin fingers worked to saw thinner slices of cooked flesh off of the bones. The meat seemed to be somewhat tough, because she was going very slow at it. “Anyway, I ask this fellow where he was coming from, and he said Rindley. Lexi, that’s a whole county over. He’s a door-to-door JW, I forgot to say. He’s got this stack of flyers, you should see them, they’re funny. Anyway. I say, ‘don’t you JW’s always travel in pairs?’ and he says, ‘no m’a’am, that’s not a requirement, that’s only for safety.’ And I say, ‘well aren’t you worried about crazy hicks out here in the boonies taking shots at you?’ And he says, ‘I never had a problem out here before.’ And I say–”

“Godammit Deb!” Trent blurted. He let out a long, excruciated grunt as he stood up laboriously, taking great care to make sure we all knew how much it hurt him. He pushed his walker around the table and grabbed the carving knife from his wife. “I’ll show you how to carve a roast. Christ almighty, I swear to god.” He sawed the meat with violent speed, splashing grease on his old navy checkered flannel. 

“And I say–”

“Mom, maybe save it for another time?” Derrick said. He made a big show of secretly nodding towards me so his mother knew why. 

“It’s a funny story,” Deb frowned

“I want to hear it,” I said. Deb only sighed and sucked her teeth. Then she sat down.

“Well, it’s not that funny. It’s dumb, actually.”

“I still want to hear it,” I said. My phone buzzed in my dress pocket, and I pulled it out instinctively. 

I’m so sorry this is awful, the message read. It was from Derrick. He squeezed my hand again. I took mine away. 

“She’s calling the cops,” Trent said. “Told ya.”

“I’m not,” I said. “I just got a text.”

“Surprised you can get texts out here,” Deb said. “Most people can’t. Too far out in the sticks.”

“I can get them through wifi,” I said. I’d gotten the password off of their fridge when I arrived. It was under a magnet that said Never Mess With A PISCES WOMAN Who Was BORN IN MARCH And Is Allergic to STUPIDITY, They’ll Never Find Your Body! “I also think I still have bars, though, too.” 

I was getting sick of Deb acting like this suburban mcmansion was so far from civilization it might as well be the middle of Alaska. We were thirty-five minutes from Grand Rapids, tops. 

“Gals try to call the cops sometimes,” Trent continued, breathing heavy now as he struggled with the roast. He wasn’t doing much better than his wife at it. Sweat dripped from his wispy brown crew cut into his piggy eyes, but he refused to slow or stop. “They don’t last very long. By the time the cops get to our door, we’ve already got a whole new Thanksgiving meal to serve up to them.”

“Okay,” I said. He raised his eyebrows, as if to accentuate that there was an implication there that I should pick up on.

“Dad.” Derrick said. “She’s not calling the cops.”

The thing I didn’t like about Derrick’s dad most was the way he said everything like he’d rehearsed it in his head a lot beforehand. Sometimes, Derrick could sound just like that. He’d say something and raise his eyebrows with a smile like he was expecting a big reaction. He wouldn’t move past it until I gave some acknowledgment that yes, I did “get” the implication. I never realized how much that annoyed me until now. What do you want, a round of applause?

“God dammit!” Trent threw down the knife. “God damn roast is tough, Deb. What about ‘low and slow’ don’t you understand?”

“Well, there was a lot of meat, dear. If you just fixed the grill this summer–”

“Oh, don’t go bringing that up.”

“Men.” Deb tutted. “Nothing is ever their fault. You know what I’m talking about, Lexi. Us women take the blame for all their stupid mistakes. But that’s life. Cleaning up our men’s messes without complaint.” Deb smiled conspiratorily at me, and I smiled back, even though I didn’t relate to or agree with the sentiment. The front door was just down the hall behind Deb, just a few square meters of grey carpet and beige walls smattered with tacky and vaguely threatening Hobby Lobby signage (Grandma’s Shit List: Don’t Say Shit, Don’t Do Shit, Don’t Expect Shit! and House Rules: ACT RIGHT or get a trip to the woodshed!).  I kept glancing at it, measuring the distance in my mind, wondering if I could run fast enough to get to my car before one of Derrick’s parents caught up to me. Or drew a weapon. 

Another buzz in my pocket.

I love you, Derrick had texted me. I could see him out the corner of my eye trying to make eye contact with me and shoot me his own conspiratorial smile, but I did not look at him. Trent slapped a pile of rubbery grey meat on a plate and passed it to me. 

“Breast or thigh?” He joked without smiling. I took the plate. The meat was wet, as if it had been boiled, and the thin ring of white fat and skin around the edge jiggled as it separated from the muscle. I thought I could still see blonde arm hair on the skin. 

Derrick took his plate of grey meat from his dad. As Deb took hers, Derrick leaned over to me and whispered in my ear,

“Don’t forget to say thank you.”

“Thanks, Deb,” I said. 

“And my dad?”

Deb passed a basket of white grocery store rolls around. There was a low white ramekin of canned cranberry sauce on the table, and a big blue bowl of salad with russian dressing. There was an extremely mushy and condensed soup-forward green bean casserole. In an effort to make a good impression, I had brought candied sweet potatoes. 

I took a generous helping of the salad, which was somehow also very wet. The russian dressing water from the lettuce pooled with the unthinkable and loathsome juices of the grey flesh at the bottom of the plate. I also took a generous helping of the sweet potatoes. No one else did, though. 

“Let’s wait until we say grace,” Deb said through her smiling teeth, watching me take a deep swig of my wine. “Thirsty, aren’t we?” She chirped. She poured me some more wine, filling it almost to the brim this time. I think she meant this as an insult, but I was going to do that myself anyway, so the joke was on her. “Would you like to lead the prayer, Lexi?”

“Uh… I don’t really know what to say,” I said. 

“Just say what’s in your heart.”

“Um.” I cleared my throat. I looked to Derrick. He nodded encouragingly at me, a sign he wasn’t going to step in and rescue me. “Thank you, God, for bringing us all together, here.” Deb and Trent both bowed their heads and touched their palms. Derrick followed suit. “I’m so glad I got to meet Derrick’s lovely parents. Thank you for this amazing… meal.” I felt the wine come back up into my mouth a little bit and had to gag it back down. “We’re all grateful to be here, rather than anywhere else. Uh. Amen.”

Derrick wasn’t religious, as far as I knew. But he gave a reverent nod before he opened his eyes and picked up his knife and fork. 

“That was a beautiful prayer,” Deb said. She sniffled. “You picked a good one, sweetie. Don’t let her go.”

“No thank-you for carving your dinner. I see how it is,” Trent mumbled. 

I watched Derrick take a small mouthful of meat. It was sinewy, and had come from the hand. He chewed and chewed. I’d never been less attracted to him. 

My family ate Thanksgiving dinner in the early afternoon. Sometimes my grandparents were there, sometimes my dad’s brother and his kids, sometimes family friends would come. My candied sweet potatoes always killed. Not a spoonful left by the end. But the thing was that we all liked each other. My mom would get a little tipsy and tell crazy college party stories, my dad would burn the pecan pie and laugh so hard he cried, and then we’d laugh so hard we cried, and then we’d watch movies and laugh some more. 

“So, what is it you do for a living?” Deb asked, chewing on her roast. Her teeth scraped the fork as she pulled it off.

“I’m a personal assistant at a pet magazine.”

“Oh, that’s adorable,” Deb laughed. I smiled a little bit. 

“It’s harder than it sounds. You know The Devil Wears Prada?” I asked.

“...No,” Deb said.

“You like Prada?” Trent asked through an open mouth of food.

“No, but, basically, I do what Anne Hathaway does, except for with dog clothes. But if you haven’t seen it, nevermind.”

“We don’t like the Devil in this house,” Trent said.

“It’s not a literal Devil. It’s Meryl streep–”

“Let’s not keep talking about this. It’s Thanksgiving,” Deb snapped.

Buzz.

My mom loves you, you’re doing great.

“You know,” I said, swallowing a bite of sweet potatoes, which I made very sure hadn’t touched the grey meat or any of its accumulated juices, “these candied sweet potatoes are made with real maple syrup and brown butter. I toasted the pecans myself and sugared them with homemade maple caramel.”

After a long silence, Trent wiped his mouth and replied,

“I don’t like real maple.”

“It’s too strong,” Derrick agreed.

“We already have a dessert,” Deb said.

“Regular mashed potatoes are better.” Trent said. “And they’re traditional.”

“To each their own,” I said politely. I poured myself another glass of wine. Honestly, I hoped they did kill me. Anything to end this dinner sooner. 

There was a loud, faraway noise from below us. A pounding, a rattling, and then a long, low wail. Derrick put his head back in his hands.

“Mom.”

“That’ll be our JW.”

“He’s alive.”

“You know how hard it is to break down a whole carcass, son?” Trent spat. “Nobody’s got the time for that. Not when you find out you gotta make a thanksgiving dinner for two extra people last-minute the day before. Now get your elbows off the damn table.” Then, in a moment of brilliance, he added, “Only one set of elbows on this table tonight, and they’re well-done.” He grinned and looked at me for a reaction again. “What, you got nothing to say?” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I said. 

“Say what’s on your mind,” Trent responded.

“Okay. Well… candied sweet potatoes aren’t a dessert,” I said. “They’re a side. But I don’t want to start an argument.”

“You’ve wanted to start an argument since you got here,” Trent said. “Don’t think we can’t see you think you’re better than us. College-educated girl, women’s studies, you probably got all kinds of opinions.”

“I think you want to start an argument,” I said. 

Derrick groaned beside me. 

“See? Knew you think you’re smart.”

The man in the basement let out another agonized wail. 

“It was journalism, not women’s studies,” I said. 

“Like it matters. This day and age, you tell me what the difference is. It’s all women’s studies, gender studies these days.” Trent huffed. He chewed as he talked, and I could hear the fat squeak between his teeth as the prisoner downstairs built up the energy for another scream. 

“When I was a girl, I took a women’s studies course in college,” Deb piped up, attempting to smooth down the hostile tone of the conversation by pretending she couldn’t sense it. “Back then, there were still ladies who would go out and burn their bras in a big fire. I understood feminism when it was about equal rights, but I look around today and– well, hasn’t it gotten out of hand? You know how it is, Lexi– you’re a pretty girl, you don’t shave your head or pierce your eyebrows or anything like that. Do you?”

The Jehovah’s Witness wailed in the basement and rattled his chains. 

“Would you shut him up?” Trent snapped at Derrick. 

“Me?!” Derrick said. “Dad.” He gestured at me. Like that would sway anyone here. Trent’s big lumpy face was stony as a gargoyle’s as he gestured at his walker. He wouldn’t be able to go down stairs with his bad hip.

“I’ll do it,” Deb said. “It’s my mess, I’ll clean it up.” She stood up and pushed in her squeaky beige chair.

“No, mom,” Derrick said. “I’ll do it.” He looked at me, then looked away quickly, towards the grey carpet. “I’ll, uh–” Derrick grabbed the carving knife from the roast and wiped it on his napkin. Then he headed towards the pantry door.

“That’s my boy,” Trent shouted, without any real pride. “Sure hope you’re loyal to him, Lexi,” Trent said to me once he was arguably out of earshot. “Most women these days–”

“I’ll go with him,” I said as I stood, almost knocking a fork off the table. I hurried after my boyfriend through the dingey, grey-tiled kitchen (past a hanging wood sign which read In This House We Believe: No Cryin’, No Whinin’, No Back-Talkin’!) and catching him before the secret door behind the rack of very expired dry goods swung shut. 

“Lexi–” Derrick said, four steps down the creaky wooden staircase. The man’s screams were louder and more frantic now. “I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Is this normal for your family?” 

“No– I mean, the ritual cannibalism is just a Thanksgiving thing, I promise. And my mom said she wasn’t going to do it this year. I thought it would be fine.” Derrick smiled wanly. I didn’t like the way that smile looked on his face. Honestly, I didn’t like his face very much anymore. I could see his dad’s meaty forehead and his mom’s thin nose. I could see Deb’s wide cheekbones and Trent’s lipless mouth. 

“You don’t have to do what they say,” I said.

“It’s– not that big of a deal,” Derrick replied. “It’s just family stuff. You know?”

I didn’t. 

“Derrick,” I said. “I don’t like your family.”

Derrick looked hurt.

“I know this is a lot,” he said. “And my dad is being an asshole. But… you don’t choose your family.”

“I mean… why not?” I said, following him as he carried the knife down the stairs. 

“What’s the alternative?” Derrick said. “I turn my back on my mom and dad? No. Never. I believe in loyalty, Lexi. Even when people aren’t perfect. Even when I don’t agree with them. I don’t agree with you all the time, but we’re still together.”

“Well, don’t expect me to come to any future McCabe Thanksgivings,” I said.

“I understand why you’d feel that way after today, but… you might change your mind when they’re your family, too.” Derrick stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up at me with his big, dopey eyes.

“Derrick–” 

“Lexi, this isn’t how I wanted to do this. But you’ve seen the worst of my family secrets, and you’re still by my side. So will you stay by my side?”

Derrick was doing that thing again, that Trent thing, where he said a line and waited for my reaction. 

“Let’s just get out of here,” I said.

“Will you stay by my side?” He repeated like maybe he thought I hadn’t heard. “For the rest of our lives?”

“I just want to go.”

“I’m asking you to marry me.”

“I have ears, Derrick,” I snapped. It was the first time I’d ever snapped at him. I never snapped at anyone. Especially not him. 

His expression didn’t move an inch. He was smiling, for some reason, like this was the happiest day of his life.

“Then say yes,” he said.

“No, I don’t want to marry you,” I said. 

“Because this is where I come from?” He swallowed, shaking.

“No. Because this is who you’re choosing to be.” I replied. 

Derrick hung his head. The knife drooped to his knee.

“Things aren’t that black and white, Lexi.”

I clapped my hands over my ears as another shriek boomed through the basement, close now.

Derrick sighed.

“Fuck,” he said. He hurried into the basement proper, and I followed him. Again, I didn’t scream. 

What was left of the man was chained by the ankles to the wall. He crawled like a caterpillar, the stumps where his arms used to start on his torso haphazardly bandaged with paper towels and medical tape. His face was a pulp, his body bruised. He was naked. An overturned bucket leaked into the drain in the floor. He looked up at Derrick and I with wide, white eyes.

“Help me!” He screamed. “Get me out of here! Oh, Lord, please get me out of here!”

“Sorry, man,” Derrick said, stooping over the prisoner. His knee fell onto the man’s back, pinning him in place. He raised the knife. “Thanksgiving with the family. You know how it is.”

“Derrick,” I said. He looked up at me a second too late to see the bread knife flash under his chin. By the time he did, it was lodged all the way through his neck. His face was stunned, betrayed. I felt bad.

I pulled the knife out, followed by a torrent of blood. Down it went, towards the floor drain. 

Derrick dropped down to both knees. He clutched his neck. He didn’t scream. 

“Don’t make a sound,” I said to the armless, naked prisoner, who had been screaming a lot until then. He’d rolled away to the side as soon as Derrick’s weight was off of him. “If you stay quiet, we’ll be out of here in time to finish Thanksgiving with our own families.”

The man spat bloody drool.

“J-jehovah’s Witnesses don’t celebrate Thanksgiving,” he managed. 

“Yeah…” I said. “I think you’re onto something with that.”

Derrick twitched and gurgled. Then, finally, he stopped. 

I imagined my own family at home, topping off the evening with hot toddies and bad cable tv Christmas movies. 

“Lexi, Derrick,” Deb called from upstairs. “We’re cutting into the pie! Hurry up or your dad’ll eat it all before you get any. As soon as I find my knife!”

“I’ll help you!” I shouted up the stairs. 

My phone buzzed.

Miss you this year lex!! Happy Turkey Day!! Love, mom

I wiped blood from my thumb and texted her back.

Love you too.

I started up the stairs.

[shslbunnylover]

★★★𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 (12 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝘿𝙖𝙮 1: 𝙃𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙮 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚)★★★

Character: Melissa Schemmenti

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta (Message me to be a part of the taglist until I get a page set up!!)

Trigger warnings (DL, DI): N/a

Genre: Fluff

A/n: Welcome to the first day of Fluffmas! We're starting off strong with the lovely Melissa Schemmenti and a hockey game prompt!

Word count: 2.4k

...

...

A shot of cold air hit your face, sending your already reddened nose and cheeks into a state of more frigidity. You shivered slightly, your eyes narrowing to avoid the snowflakes falling into them, leaving the snow to cluster up on your soft eyelashes.

"Thanks for coming Hon, I know hockey isn't really your thing," Melissa spoke up, looking over at you and a slight smile pulling at her lips at the sight of you all bundled up in her coat and scarf.

You open your eyes slightly to see your girlfriend more, matching her smile as a slight warmth finally comes to your cheeks in stark contrast to the icy air around the two of you.

"My love, you know I'd always come to support your family. After all, it's not every day that one of your girlfriend's friend plays for the flyers!" You chuckled, pulling up the zipper on your (Melissa's) coat despite it already being zipped up all the way.

"I guess that's true," The woman next to you chuckled, tilting her head to look up at the sky that had been covered in a sea of white. "But he's technically just one of my guys,"

You roll your eyes,

"Are you sure we couldn't have parked any closer?" You groan with a slight smirk, leaning forward in a dramatic manner as you felt your feet beginning to cramp up from how long you had been walking. "You get us free flyers tickets, but can't park closer than 30 yards?"

"Do you not see all these fucking cars?" Melissa asked, pointing over at the hundreds of cars filling the parking spaces up one by one with a raise eyebrow.

"Yes Mel, I see them," You roll your eyes in a joking manner, throwing your head back for the theatrical effect as you stood up straight once again. "But tell me this isn't a long walk,"

The redhead nods with a laugh,

"But look, we're here," She chuckled, gesturing to the building in front of you before opening the door for the two of you.

"Thanks baby," You spoke before placing a kiss on her cold lips, watching them curling up into a big goofy smile before walking into the not much hotter building, looking at the closed off hockey arena.

"Of course sweetheart," Melissa smirked, grabbing you by your waist as she led you to your seats that she had gotten with the rest of her family.

"Hey!! There's our favorite couple!" Leo smiled, kissing you on each cheek before doing the same to your girlfriend.

"Miss Teresa," You nodded at your future mother-in-law with a smile, blushing softly and retreating into your coat a bit as she rolled her eyes with a groan.

"Hon, I told youse to call me Teresa, no need for formalities," She chuckled, gesturing for you and Melissa to sit down next to her.

The older woman wrapped her arm around you, placing a kiss on your cheek as her cold red hair tickled your cheeks.

"You excited to see him play?" Melissa asked, pressing her nose against your temple before backing away to look you in the eyes.

You nod with a bright smile.

"I am, I do wish it was warmer though!" You giggled, pressing your mittens up against your cheeks for a sense of warmth. "But then again the ice would probably melt,"

The green-eyed woman simply chuckled, bringing you closer to her before leaning her head on your shoulder.

"Y'know Schemmenti, you're all sappy with me outside of school, but you haven't even told Barb about us," You teased her,

"You know I'm just waiting for the right time, plus, I don't need Janine fussin' about it. I also don't need Jacob and her knowin' my business," Melissa rolled her eyes in response.

You sighed with a slight giggle, understanding of your redhead's hesitation.

"So when does it start?" You asked, looking down at the ice rink that was currently being polished by the giant Zamboni.

"A couple minutes, Vinny told me they'll be starting in about 10, say...where is he?"

Teresa simply shrugged her shoulders, allowing for you to cock your eyebrow at her sudden lack for tightness when it came to being on time.

Melissa seemed to share your confusion but brushed it off as she continued to wrap her arm around you. You sighed in content, looking at the giant illuminated clock in the arena as you internally counted down the minutes to when the game would begin.

After about 15 minutes had passed, the two teams began to enter the rink, positioning themselves to their starting lineup. You still didn't know where Vinny was, and at this point you kind of didn't care and mainly planned on paying attention to the game.

You covered your ears at the sound of the whistle blowing, looking over at Melissa and smiling at how cute she looked focusing on the game.

Your lovesick thoughts were interrupted by a sudden vibration on your thigh and the now turned-on screen of your phone showing a text message from Janine.

"Janine?" You muttered to yourself, your voice not loud enough to draw Melissa's attention to it.

Janine: Hey Y/N! I'm watching the game with the Abbott crew! Hoping to see you and Melissa on TV!

You chuckled, typing out a funny reply about how you had accidentally gotten a seat next to Melissa before shutting off your phone, watching the screen go black before turning your eyes to the players fighting over the puck with their sticks.

Melissa had announced she was going to the flyers game, not mentioning you also coming with her as her girlfriend, so you also told your work friends that you were going as well just in case any of them spotted you on TV. At this point, the whole string of lies was working.

"Oh come on!" The 2nd grade teacher exclaimed in frustration along with the rest of the people around you as one of the players for the flyers screwed up a very easy shot.

You giggled slightly, noticing how Melissa's anger softened at your endearing nature.

"Think I could play better than some of them?" Melissa asked you, licking her lips to rehydrate them from the cold.

"You could definitely beat one of them, you're good, but not as good as you are at baseball," You replied, bending over the arm rest of the seat to press your lips against her hair.

"That's true," She smirked.

You looked off to your right, still trying to figure out where Vinny was, but not letting it overwhelm your thoughts.

'That idiot is late again, I can't wait to see Melissa bust his ass...hopefully with words...I can't watch him get another bloody nose from her,' You thought, shuffling your body to stand up right, looking at the arena once more.

You looked at the at the giant cube of screens in the middle of the celling, your eyes glossing over each of the screens before turning to look back at the players.

"Oh my god you idiota!" You heard Teresa exclaim, making you chuckle, leaning forward as you heard the woman curse the young men on the ice out in Italian.

"Your mother may be better at insulting hockey players than you however," You giggled, placing your hand on Melissa's thigh as you continued to laugh before regaining your composure.

"Oh now that is definitely true, I've been hearing it since I came out the womb," Melissa replied, looking at her mom. "Right Ma?"

"It wasn't my fault those dumb eagles decided to give up a touchdown!" The older woman retorted.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Ma," Your girlfriend rolled her eyes, resting her head on her hand as she shook it in fake exasperation.

The minutes passed, and you were sure your hearing almost passed as well from the angry yelling from the two women next to you, but you didn't mind. Once the sound around you had gone from yelling to cheering, you glanced up at the collection of screens to see the score, and your eyes could only widen when you saw your face with Melissa's on the kiss cam.

"Um...Mel..." You muttered, tapping her shoulder before pointing at the giant screen, the two of you listening as the cheers of people watching all around the stadium filling your ears whilst you blushed furiously.

"What the hell?!" The redheaded woman exclaimed as she looked at you, confused as there usually weren't kiss cams at the games she went to. "Sorry Hon, I ain't doing this, you know the rest of Abbott is watching," She looked at the camera with an angry glare.

You immediately nodded.

"Yeah, don't worry, I don't wanna tell anyone without you being 100% ready," You said with an understanding nod, your face reddening as you heard the boos of people as the kiss cam returned to the close-up cameras.

"Oh fuck off would youse?!" Melissa exclaimed, making you only more embarrassed.

"Mel, they're just being cupid for a day, let 'em," Teresa chuckled, looking at your girlfriend with a smirk that felt almost mischevious.

"Uh uh- No way, I am not revealin' my relationship to the world on one of these fuckin' things," The green-eyed woman replied with a glare sent towards her mother that made you laugh into your coat. "And besides Ma! You don't like these things either!"

Her mother simply hummed in reply, taking a sip of her hot chocolate (Prosecco).

Melissa nor you were sure exactly what was going on as the kiss cam was on you two for a second time, but you both knew that the redhead was about to take a hockey stick to the person controlling it from how mad (Flustered) she was.

"What the fuck is going on? I- Ma!" Your girlfriend shouted with reddened cheeks at the sight of her mother bending over dying of laughter.

"Teresa!!" You squeaked. "This isn't funny!"

"Just kiss you two! You're dating for ravioli's sake!" She cackled.

"I already told you I'm not letting the people at Abbott see me kiss her till I want them to!"

"And that'll be after Christ's second coming Melissa, just kiss the poor girl! She's blushing like a maniac over there!" Tereasa continued to laugh as she pointed at you.

You simply breathed a sigh of relief as you noticed the screen had changed a couple of seconds ago, ignoring the dying out boos from the crowd.

"Teresa, she'll kiss me in front of people eventually, she loves me," You managed to stutter out,

"Exactly," Melissa mumbled, pressing her lips to your hair as there was no more camera pointed at you two.

As the game got more intense, you on-looked your girlfriend continuing to analyze each of the players movements, occasionally looking up at the screens to get a closer view of each and every shot and pass made. You felt like a magnet drawn to her, but in your head, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"What's that look for Hon?" She asked you, catching on to your lingering stares at her focused eyes and furrowed brows.

"Nothing, I just really, really love you," You smiled, not meaning anything behind it other than pure adoration for her, which she picked up as she always did.

"What do ya want?" Melissa teased, her expression turning more into loving expression as she watched you giggle.

That was her favorite sound after all, your laugh. She'd do anything to hear it.

"Hey lovebirds!" You heard the voice of your mother-in-law exclaim, drawing your vision to the kiss camera once more.

"Oh my god," You chuckled, rolling your eyes once again, looking at Melissa with a smile. "It just won't leave us alone will it?"

The redhead simply remained silent, looking at the camera before looking at you with a soft smile. She leaned forward, caressing you hand as she wrapped her other around your neck. You could feel her the warmth radiating off her cheeks from your bodies inching closer towards each other.

"I think it's telling me to stop being a coward and start loving you out loud like my girl deserves," She whispered before moving the hand that was holding yours to your chin and pulling your lips together.

You felt your eyes flutter shut, your brain going a million miles an hour, to say you were shocked was an understatement. But for a moment, your brain told itself to shut up and just love the woman back.

Pulling your lips away from each other once the crowd had quieted down it's cheering, you looked at Melissa with a loving gaze.

"Melissa," You smiled, your eyes looking at her as if the redhead touching you wasn't real, but just a figment of your imagination too good to be true.

"Y/n, I love you," The older woman pressed her lips against your forehead, leaving a warm feeling in your body before she pulled away slightly. "I'm sorry I never showed it,"

Your smile quickly turned sympathetic the moment you saw an uncharacteristic guilt wash over her facial features.

"You're okay, after all, I wouldn't want to be bothered about my relationship by everyone I knew because of some sudden PDA and all that," You reassured her, tucking a red curl behind her ear.

Melissa simply chuckled, the guilt falling from her face as she laughed.

"But yeah, you do know we're gonna be interrogated by Janine and literally everyone else at Abbott tomorrow, right?" You smirked, pulling up your phone to show all of the messages clouding your lock screen.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," The redhead sighed, pulling you closer to her by wrapping her arm around your shoulder.

You simply leaned into her embrace, looking up at her with eyes of adoration.

"I wonder why it kept picking on us," You pondered, your thoughts returning to the hockey game in front of you.

"Yeah, I wonder," Teresa muttered under her breath with a knowing smirk, looking up at the press box before giving a slight nod.

"Thanks Ted," Vinny smirked back at his aunt as he handed the camera man a stack of cash.

...

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira

[freakymcnastys]

hihihi!! idk if you’re taking request but i LOVED ur 10 things i hate abt you one shot!! i would love to see a part 2 💝💝💝

“are you bored yet?” - katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ "will you tell the truth so I don’t have to lie?"

NOTE: there will be 2 more parts after this! (sorry it’s so long 💔💔)

content: 10tihay au, quirkless au, american au, regular bakugou stuff, PART 2 WHOOP WHOOP! (part 1 here )

"WAIT WHATS THAT?" Iida asked Kirishima who held a yellow stack of flyers. "My revenge.." He said with a smile before throwing the papers down the staircase of the school watching as the students grabbed them. "Mineta's having a party?" Iida questioned, confused. "No but now he is!" He responded with a wink before walking off.

While walking out of school, Iida noticed Ochaco walking by herself. "Hey Ochaco!" He quipped, sliding next to the burnette. She quickly greeted him with a smile. The pair walked off together ultimately deciding to have Ochaco show Iida around while talking about the plan with her sister and Katsuki. "Are you going to the party" Iida asked. "Yeah of course I really really wanna go but I can't unless my sister does.." Ochaco sighed hopping off a statue the two were climbing. "Um I'm working on that but your sister is not going for the guy." He explained before a question popped into his head.

"So are you sure that your sister isn't a-"

"K.D. Lang fan? Nope." Ochaco shrugged. "Found a picture of Fatgum in her drawer once." She continued. "Oh so she's into guys like that? Like pretty guys?" He questioned, looking down at her. "I guess. I mean you can't expect me to dissect the inner workings of her twisted mind!" She ranted, not forgetting the theatrics while she spoke.

Kirishima's bike compared to the rest of the bikers made Iida sink into himself as he walked into the bar, looking for Bakugou. Once they spotted him they went to him. "Should you be drinking that if your don't have a liver?" The red head asked, stupidly, earning a smack from Iida. "So we got somethings that might help you win over y/n."

Katsuki just raised him brow, taking another sip from his beer. "Uh first off y/n hates smokers..so uh--" Iida then processed to take the cigarette from Bakugou hand and put it out on the floor as Kirishima nodded along. "So yer telling me that I'm a non-smoker?" The blonde let out slowly. "Well just for now! and well here's another problem.." Iida led on. "Ochaco says y/n likes pretty guys.." He finished as the two friends looked to each other then at Katsuki.

"Are you telling me I'm not a pretty guy?" He asked almost offended, getting up from his spot that was leaning on the pool table. This causes the two teens to scramble to defend themselves and to compliment Bakugou. "This is a very pretty guy! This is a gorgeous guy!" Kirishima retorted as Iida quickly agreed with him as Bakugou went back down to listen to the rest of what they needed to tell him. Katsuki knew he was a pretty guy but he loved to mess with this guys..

As Momo and Ochaco tried to quickly sneak past her dad to leave for the party, he just called out to them. "Should've tried the window!"

"Now where are you two going?" He interrogated them as Momo just looked at her friend with a nervous smile. "Well if you must know we are going to a..study group!" The youngest daughter lied, terribly. "Other wise known as an orgy?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his newspaper.

"Oh come on daddy it's just a party!" the burnette attempted to use her charm on her dad but he still didn't seem to budge. "You know you can't go if your sister doesn't." As if on que you came down the stairs, on your way to the kitchen.

"Come on y/n! Can't you be normal for once and go to Minetas party!" Ochaco huffed, practically begging you. Although you REALLY didn't want to go, you really did feel a pang of guilt after seeing how much your sister wanted to go to this stupid party. Fuck it.

“Fine I’ll make an appearance.” You shrug before heading back upstairs to fix your hair and grab a leather jacket. As you were on your way to your room you hear the door close and your dad say to himself, “what just happened…?” in disbelief. Which made you laugh a bit.

The party was booming once you got there. Of course now looking around the atmosphere you feel regret creep up on you as you soon bump into Monoma.

“Woah hey there kitty cat!” He spoke with his usual self righteous tone which caused you to scoff. “Whatever just stay away from my sister.” You warn the blonde. Before walking away he says this. “Can’t promise she’ll stay away from me!” Suddenly this party started to suck even more than before.

And just as you thought things couldn’t get worse the guy who seemed to be harassing you showed up once again. “Dear god, what do you want..” You let out a sigh. “What not enjoying the party?” The blonde scoffed. This guy is now starting to seriously piss you off.

Just as Katsuki was gonna say something back, Monoma and Ochaco walked past the two with his arm around the girl and saying something along the lines of, “guess who found me!”. This seemed to set something off in you as Katsuki watched you throw back two shots of whatever was on the table. “Woah slow down..” The boy said, rather uncharacteristically, concerned.

“Come man I’m enjoying the party!”

[muramatsu-takehiko]

劇団東演『どん底』ポスター B2

A4チラシ（flyer）、タイトル（title logo type）はこちら

[jiminsass-istant]

WHO MV ANALYSIS: BRILLIANT STORY TELLING, QUEER CODING AND MORE

I have a lot to say. And yes i positively feel like a clown that this post comes right after jimin said "go ahead, misinterpret everything hehe". This might be a long one, so settle in. Also, if you are looking for this as some kind of validation for any ship, I'm afraid it might not serve that purpose (BUT keep reading!). This is simply an analysis of MV elements and cinematography in its purest form appreciating the brilliant work done by Lumpens and his assistant directors.

Part 1: Start of the story of a man in search of love

Let's start from the very beginning. Many of you have already figured out that Jimin is telling a story here (I'm not wrong yet Jimin, dammit). How do we know this? Look at that mini TV. Yes, this mini TV is actually our bookmark, our storyteller. In it's first appearance, it says "play" with a man walking at a normal pace, imitating jimin here, who is also walking.

Elements to notice here:-

The 'ONLY' signs on the road which mean these roads have only limited accessibility when it comes to directions. In my opinion, it symbolizes the rules that this world imposes on us. And here comes jimin whining/asking why he hasn't met 'her' even if he sees her at night? (imagines her) and thinks about her.

2. Also notice how it says "BLISS" on the neon sign but the world he's in is basically pre-tornado winds - there are papers flying, cars on fire, safety barrier tapes, even the mini TV is on fire. The flyer for the song says "who is!! Tornado of love" and basically serves as a warning that the 'tornado of love' is approaching soon.

3. Reference to 'Closer' (than this?) on the billboard with a man on it. Looks like a reference to a movie or song of 1995 which I haven't been able to find out yet. [help me]

Part 2: Searching gets more desperate

Moving on, we see Jimin entering the part of street with an old, dilapidated building in the background (so much to notice here!!)

Elements to look out:

Firstly, look at the mini TV which still says 'play' but the man in the TV is now running instead of walking. Just like how Jimin's steps are faster now, he's on his search for 'her', but he's getting desperate.

Notice the engineers in the background? Yes they are engineers- they have plans, measuring devices etc. And they are working to "renovate" the building. Interesting choice of scene right before a tornado... let's found out why-

Notice that on the right side to the entrance of this building, there's "B-1" written on the walls, but one could also read it at "13 1" At first glance, that's what it seemed like to me. I think people renovating a building whose name looks like a "13" is symbolism for jimin trying to heal/renovate/repair his heart/emotions/past traumas. It's about him still being in that phase where he is healing/ trying to heal himself by trying to find 'her' OR maybe he's trying to find 'her' when he is not even completely healed himself.

See the TV on the shopping cart on fire because it will be referenced later. Put a pin on it.

Part-3 Theatrics

With a flash of retro cable TV like lights, the perspective changes - as in now you are watching inside the mini TV. I'm talking about this part, when he changes direction and goes to the girl. So many interesting things happen, I'm giddy thinking about writing it.

Elements to notice:

I can't help but think of the words 'auto calibration ' that flashes right before Jimin does that cunty choreo with the female dancer. 'auto calibration ' literally means 'standardization' or 'correction' . I don't think people realise how queer coded it is. 'coded' being the keyword here. It could also mean 'standardized' as in the way we view idols as these perfect people with perfect dating lives.

3. The car is on fire- so yeah whatever is happening cannot be good. Everything is still chaotic and doesn't make it easy

2. The mini TV now shows various images with a heart '<3' symbolizing that he is engaging in some kind of relationship, but this is literally the biggest 'drama' ever. Because look at this scene- it's pure cinema..

"So many people to see" - people watching them date/engage while making a whole show out of it. There's also an ambulance nearby because obviously an idol's dating life shown to the public can leave people hurt and offended. As Jimin and the girl dance, they are literally in front of a local theatre called the 'OASIS'. My interpretation is that a celeb's dating life is literally 'theatrics' for the public. They are reduced to nothing but characters for entertainment, and worst part is that the public isn't happy either. No wonder, making it extremely difficult for Jimin to find true love. Special mention where the girl has him in a chokehold, quite literally an uncomfortable position, entangled with each other- or at least that's how the public views them.

3) In the same scene we see that the mini TV has tumbled down along with the shopping cart which was on fire, hence setting the car on fire too lol. Brilliant attention to detail.

Part-4 - where Jimin gets more desperate to find true love (in the past!)

As soon as the dancers leave, we see the huge billboard fall down and if i go with all the clues we have been getting, especially the travel show...it is WILD.

Because people are focusing on the possible OST called "Keep going", but DO YOU NOT REALISE HOW HUGE IT IS THAT JK IS REFERENCED IN A ROMANTIC SONG? dropping from the sky with 'who' written on it??!! "Who" without the questions or exclamations. I'll let you go delulu mode on that one. Moving on-

You must have noticed that to show a change in phase/scene, they have used multicolored flashes and change to 90s TV perspective. The same happens now after the billboard drops but the important thing to notice is the "rewind" on the screen now. Which basically means jimin going through different people is a thing of the past.

3. The crow/raven seen multiple times in the MV. Either way, a crow or raven is not something we see at night. They come out only at times of 'unnatural exceptions' like storms, earthquakes etc because they are not nocturnal creatures. While Jimin was trying to find love, there was definitely something happening which wasn't natural for him or was out of his comfort zone/he was not himself.

4. Another instance of queer coding I noticed was both men and women walking past him, similar to Like Crazy MV. It had a different symbolism in LC because he was trying to stay in the dream. But here people walking past him clearly means possible romantic partners. And he keeps stopping, keeps trying his luck with different people, almost always failing. OR- it could mean there are people of both genders walking past him but he never goes for the men in the past.

Part-5 - The tornado of love finally arrives

Now it says 'Play' on the screen meaning we are now in the present again. The tornado has built up, Jimin looks more confident, more smug as the tornado gains momentum behind him.

A flash of light, fireworks erupt as he sings his heart out. Even after the tornado is completely gone, the sparks and short circuits and destruction continues, meaning the 'tornado of love' arrived and certainly did a number on him.

Finally, we see him on a much calmer path. All cars lined up. He owns his life now. The situation is under control, the cars with lights on, ready to go.

I truly appreciate the storytelling in WHO MV. Lumpens Sir delivering as always. And I would love to know which things were Jimin's ideas but he wouldn't share that with us would he?

Let me know what you think and discuss in the comments if you want to.

[lookingfts]

Talking about the fics I've written but not shared inspired me to go through my Unfinished Fics folder. Some of these are drabbles that I never posted, some of them are snippets of fics I never finished (and likely will never finish), but I'm going to share them today!

The first one is a fic where Kate is a cafe owner and Anthony plays at her open mic nights. I only really wrote the first scene (using The Night We Met before I used it in Sugar, lol.)

“Was this a stupid idea? Didi, am I actually an idiot?”

Kate rolled her eyes at Edwina’s theatrics as she wiped down the milk frother with a worn rag. “Of course not. It’ll go great, okay?”

She genuinely had no idea whether her idea would flop or not, but Kate wasn’t going to let on. She’d been trying to get Edwina to be more involved in the shop for months, and this was the first thing her sister had seemed genuinely excited about, even designing flyers and promoting the event online.

And if it did flop – if no one performed, or everyone was a talentless hack – it would be awkward but amusing, and they would never do it again. Kate hoped that wouldn’t be the case, of course, because new events had real potential to help their business, and she hated to picture the disappointment on Edwina’s face. Failure might build character, but Kate wasn’t quite ready to expose her sister to the harsh realities of the world so soon. Within those four walls, at least, she wanted to keep it at bay a little longer.

Kate felt Edwina’s anxiety rubbing off on her and waved her hand in the general direction of the tables. “We still have an hour. Go clean something and work off your nervous energy.”

Eddie bounced off to do just that as Kate stifled a yawn against her wrist. It had been a slower day, the foot traffic diminished by a steady drizzle of rain, which had fortunately stopped thirty minutes ago. They normally closed at eight but were staying open until ten, ready with decaf and homemade pastries delivered by Sophie that afternoon.

Even though mornings were their busiest time, Kate had always liked the atmosphere of the shop after dark. The aging brick walls and overstuffed leather chairs felt even more homey in the dim glow of the string lights crisscrossing the wooden rafters. During the day, her patrons were grabbing coffee or tea in a rush to somewhere else or camping out for the day to work anywhere but their cramped flats. At night, people were reading – or attempting to write – books. Chatting nervously on first dates. Business was slower, but Kate didn’t mind when the world slowed down a bit too.

Gradually, people started to filter in and take their seats, the sign-up sheet filling with names. Edwina seemed to relax at that and came back behind the counter to help Kate with the incoming orders. She spotted a few regulars, but was pleased to notice new faces as well.

“Hi, erm – do you still have spots for the open mic night?”

Kate nodded, pointing to the sheet without looking up. “Add your name there, everyone is performing in the order they signed up. The show starts in twenty minutes, would you like to order something?”

“Okay. Thanks. Espresso?”

“Sure, do you want-.” Kate’s sentence cut off abruptly as she finally glanced up, her mind going momentarily blank. Mr. Espresso was – striking, to say the least. He had a guitar case slung over his dark grey t-shirt, curly brown hair that swooped across his forehead in that way that seemed incidental but probably took quite a bit of effort, a jaw that could cut glass and dark eyes that were watching her so shrewdly that it was mildly disconcerting. “Uh, a pastry or something?”

“No, thank you.” He tugged his card out of his wallet and tapped it against the reader as Kate mentally chided herself. Since when was she into guitar boys? Ugh.

Fortunately, the odds were good that the spell would be broken the second he got on stage and broke out a mediocre cover of the white-man staple Wonderwall.

He waited by the counter as she quickly made his espresso, purposefully limiting eye contact with him lest she horribly embarrass herself again. Kate slid his cup across the faux marble surface, telling herself that she was just being polite as she muttered, “Good luck.”

“Thank you.” He took his coffee and found a seat near the corner. Kate allowed herself to indulge in one last glance before she was swept up in a new wave of last-minute attendees.

The crowd settled as Edwina directed the first performer onto the little platform they’d set up as a stage, with sound equipment rented from the music store down the street. Kate had counted sixteen sign-ups on the sheet, more than she was anticipating. They were, to her utter relief, mostly good. Two people, one man and one woman, performed five-minute standup sets about their spouses, only to reveal at the end, to much applause and laughter, that they were married to each other. Three read poems; their own, she thought, though Kate wasn’t familiar enough with poetry to know for sure. There were plenty of musicians, of course, a violinist and the typical singer-songwriters with varying degrees of vocal talent. One person did magic tricks. Edwina beamed through the whole thing.

“Please welcome Anthony Bridgerton!” Eddie said into the microphone after the magician had done his grand finale with a disappearing coin.

Mr. Espresso – Anthony, apparently – positioned himself on the wooden stool on stage and checked his guitar. The audience cheered and he grinned shyly. “Thank you. I don’t perform that often, so forgive me if my nerves get the best of me.”

Kate didn’t know if she bought the whole nervous act from a man with that bone structure, but it was clearly working. A redhead in the front looked like she might throw her bra on stage, and he hadn’t even started singing yet. Kate noticed that he had his guitar case closed, a rarity among the other starving artists who had kindly requested tips.

“This song is from Lord Huron, it’s called The Night We Met.” Anthony took a deep breath and Kate was lost from the first note.

I am not the only traveler Who has not repaid his debt I've been searching for a trail to follow again Take me back to the night we met

It was a lovely song, one Kate didn’t know but was certain she would listen to again. Anthony’s voice was good, soft and deep, a little raspy in the way Kate usually liked. But it was the emotion he was spilling into the lyrics that captured her attention. She was almost certain that someone’s ghost lived behind every word.

And then I can tell myself What the hell I'm supposed to do And then I can tell myself Not to ride along with you

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met

He looked up, his gaze locking with hers. Kate’s breathing hitched roughly in her chest. Those eyes that had been watching her too carefully before, dissecting and analyzing her, it had seemed, were downright devastating now. She found herself unable to move, pinned in place by the heartbreak that lanced his voice and traveled along the sharp contours of his face, triggering something in her stomach that Kate couldn’t recall feeling before.

When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met

He reached the final chords and the song faded out. The fervent clapping, interspersed with a few whistles, snapped Kate out of her trance and she jerked back as if she’d been burned. Anthony wasn’t looking at her any longer, smiling down at his new, primarily female fans in the front row, and – oh.

She was really falling victim to the musician cliché, wasn’t she? He’d probably learned guitar to pick up women, not that Kate thought he had any problem with that to begin with, and she was just one of the many women in the crowd who had gotten caught up in his magnetism. Truly pathetic, honestly. It wasn’t often that Kate allowed herself to be swept away like that.

It was natural, of course. Musicians had an inherently sexy quality about them, and Kate had not exactly been drowning in male attention as of late. He might have a real shot at being successful, if he could win over even a card-carrying cynic like her.

Edwina announced the next act, and Kate got back to work, willing her heartbeat to settle.

[misc-obeyme]

unchained - chapter fifteen

masterpost read the chapter on ao3

recommended music: Don't Go Dark by DREAMERS word count: 2799

GN!MC x Arsenios [demon OC] a/n: I consider this to be the most cringe of chapters because of the lyrics that I made up. I described the song as well as I could, too, but it isn't really important as long as the message of it is clear. Anyway, Arrie's on his way to fuck some shit up at the end though lol. Warnings: none

Every time you saw Arsenios's empty seat in the classroom at RAD, your gut twisted as you remembered the way his door closed with such finality. You were convinced it was a temporary situation, that he was only trying to keep you away for your own safety. You weren't sure what he was doing now. You wanted to be there when he confronted Caligo, but you hadn't been able to convince him that you could handle it.

So when you saw a flyer on the bulletin board for a show by Angel's Temptation, you were surprised. The band wouldn't play without Arsenios. You looked around the hallway and quickly tore the flyer off the board. The band was scheduled to play at a small local venue that evening. Was Arsenios still working while he was trying to lure the reaper to him? Or was the band somehow playing without him?

You stuffed the flyer in your bag, where it stayed crumpled until after your student council duties. When everyone else had gone home, you waited until it was almost time for the concert. Then you took out the flyer and headed to the address printed on it.

You tried to tell yourself that you were only going for the music. You were a fan of the band now, it was only normal for you to support them by showing up. It was definitely not because you were desperate for a glimpse of him. Not at all because you were worried about the state he had been in when you saw him last.

You knew you couldn't go with any of the others. Arsenios would spot you with any of them instantly. Even so, you also knew that he had an uncanny knack of knowing whenever you were in the same room with him.

The venue was a small bar with a tiny stage lit by a set of dim lights. You lingered at the back, behind the crowd and against the wall. There were plenty of demons in attendance. Maybe you would be unnoticed.

You first saw the other band members, easily bantering with each other as they did their sound check. And then you saw Arsenios. His usual calm and confident demeanor had a heaviness to it that you didn't like.

You could see the dark circles of the tattoos on his hands. They were working on setting up a mic, but you thought about the way he clenched them when he was feeling especially serious or anxious. You knew just enough to understand what that meant. The story of how they had been mangled and then healed.

The set was a mixture of rock songs and slower ballads. It was more intense than the acoustic set they had played at Crimson Street, but quieter than the grand theatrical performances they put on at The Fall.

Arsenios had stuck to the electric guitar the whole time, singing with his usual deep baritone. You couldn't know if he was aware of your presence. His eyes scanned the crowd, but didn't focus on any one spot in particular. He was just as present as he normally was, clearly putting his soul into his performance.

After several songs, there was a brief pause. You watched as Arsenios seemed to be arguing with Chymion and Lael. Even Liviana left her drums to join them and say a few words.

Whatever Liviana had said, Arsenios calmed down. He waved at them, clearly exasperated, but not willing to argue further.

The lights dimmed and a spotlight illuminated a piano that you hadn't noticed at the back of the stage. Arsenios sat down at the piano and began to play without first introducing the song.

It began simply, a soft repetition of chords and a small scale in the melody.

And then Arsenios began to sing.

The piano became even simpler, reverting back to only chords as his voice soared over them, delicate and melancholy.

You listened to the first and second verses, enraptured. From the first lines of the lyrics, you knew they were about you. The reality of this only vaguely registered as a squeezing in your heart.

in the darkness I could hear you your heartbeat in my song

You held your breath as the accompaniment became a little more rapid and Arsenios's voice lifted into the chorus. It was like every note was full of something that only you could see. It was as though everyone else had disappeared. It was as though you were in the dark dance hall again, just the two of you. He was singing this song to you.

these hands are bloodstained but now I am unchained

The chords slowed down again for the third verse and you nearly jumped when you heard him sing words that you had spoken to him not that long ago. In the Devildom Botanical Garden, when he had finally told you more than he ever had about his past.

you said you don't care what I've done or what I've had to do

The chorus came in again and your mind was whirling. You weren't sure what this meant. This song he had written about you. What was he trying to say? It seemed like you should know, like it should be obvious. But there was so much pain in it still. Like he was desperate, like he didn't know what to do with his own feelings.

A brief musical interlude that involved some unexpected scales and fingerwork caught your attention as it descended into the loud and dramatic chords of the bridge.

I used to sing about heartache now all I can sing about is you

You listened to the chorus as he went through it twice more. But you were only barely hearing it. The way he varied the melody as he let the chords and his voice become loud before everything softened in a diminuendo. The last chorus was quiet, almost pleading. The final chord, a single scale, until all that was left was the distant ringing of the D minor in the bass clef and a single D in the treble. The echo that it seemed to produce as he let the sustain pedal carry the sound. The way it cut off abruptly as he sat back.

It was too much, wasn't it? Was this song really about you?

You wanted to know about Arsenios's past. You wanted to know what had happened to him and why he was still suffering from those events now.

But with this song, he had given you something else. You remembered two lines from the third verse.

but I would die a thousand times just to end up here with you

And suddenly everything made sense. This song was a confession. When you saw Arsenios at his apartment, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. He could barely look at you. And then he told you to stay away.

Arsenios was in love with you. And that was more frightening to him than any reaper could ever hope to be.

Your gut twisted because the truth of this hit you hard. The band began to play a new song, but you didn't hear it. You turned abruptly and nearly ran out of the venue.

As you rushed down the street, making your way back to the House of Lamentation blindly, your mind was focused on only one thing.

Did Arsenios know you were there? Did he know you were listening?

You still hadn't been able to tell. But he always knew when you listened to him at RAD. Why would this setting be any different?

If he had known, then he had performed that song on purpose. Was this his way of telling you how he felt? Was it because he couldn't actually say it to you directly?

And even if all of that was true, even if this was a real confession of love, did it matter?

Arsenios had told you it would be better for you to stay apart. He said it was too dangerous. He might love you, but did he trust you?

-

That night, Arsenios lay sprawled on his back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights, only trudged up the stairs of the loft and collapsed fully clothed on the blankets.

Of course Arsenios knew you were there. He could sense you the moment you walked into that small venue. You didn't come forward, only stayed against the back wall, but he didn't need you close to hear you.

Arsenios had memorized the rhythm of your heartbeat and the way it synced up with your breathing. He recognized the beat in your tread, every footstep, every motion. He could sense the song that accompanied you no matter where you went.

It was something he first came to know at RAD, simply because your humanity made it stand out among the cacophony of so many demons. Now it was like you were a radio turned to full volume. Any time you were anywhere near him, your sounds flooded his senses.

He hadn't had any intention of playing the song he wrote about you. But soon enough, Chymion had spotted you in the crowd and informed Lael and Liviana of your presence. Then it was three against one in the argument about whether or not he should play your song. He had lost.

Arsenios knew that was a lie. He could have argued harder.

But for some reason, he wanted you to hear it. He needed you to. His confession, though full of fear and uncertainty, was holding the only hope of healing he'd had in centuries.

And it might end up being the last thing he ever sang to you.

It wasn't that Arsenios believed he couldn't find a way to defeat Caligo if it came down to a fight. It was more that Arsenios knew he would sacrifice his life for you if he had to. You were never supposed to be part of this situation. The only reason Caligo was targeting you was because of him and your closeness to him.

Arsenios felt that the only way to keep you safe was to bring this situation to an end once and for all. He had thought it was over long ago, but now that it was back he wasn't going to just wait around. He wasn't going to put it off until it was too late to protect you.

Arsenios sighed and closed his eyes.

Lucifer had been right.

If you were at all competent-

If he was at all competent, none of this would even be happening.

If he hadn't trusted Caligo to begin with, all those years ago, this wouldn't be happening now.

Abby chose that moment to jump up onto the bed, landing directly on Arsenios's stomach.

"Oof!" He flung his hands out to catch her, sitting up with her in his lap.

"All right, I get it," he said to her. "I'll stop feeling sorry for myself, okay?"

Abby purred and pushed her head into his hand.

"I know what I have to do," he said. "I've never met anyone like MC, Abby. Their sound is so intimately human, so much happening and yet all working together perfectly. It's soothing. It… merges somehow with that hole in my heart. I'll do anything to keep them safe."

Abby meowed.

Arsenios felt the heaviness of guilt press down on him. There was one important detail about reapers that he simply hadn't told you. He was sure if you knew, you would be more insistent about accompanying him. It was only his good luck that kept you from finding out from someone else. He wasn't sure how long that luck would hold out. But he only needed one more day.

Arsenios knew it would be a simple matter to get to Caligo. He was ready and tomorrow, he would go find Barbatos.

-

Arsenios picked up Little D No 2 who had been scampering conveniently through the gardens at the Demon Lord's Castle. He kicked his little legs and gnashed his teeth, clearly unhappy to have been caught.

"Hey," Arsenios said. "Calm down, it's just me."

No 2 stopped mid-thrash and looked at Arsenios for a moment before smiling. "Arrie!"

"Yeah," Arsenios said. "Can you get Barbatos for me? I don't want anyone else in the castle to know that I've talked to him."

No 2 kicked his feet slightly. "You mean you don't want Lord Diavolo to know!"

Arsenios huffed. "Yeah, you got me."

"Is it 'cause he'll tell Lucifer?" No 2 asked.

"Stop asking questions and go get Barbatos, please," Arsenios said.

"Okay!" No 2 exclaimed.

Arsenios put him back down and watched him scramble off into the castle.

Moments later, Barbatos came out where Little D No 2 had gone in. He saw Arsenios instantly.

"Sorry," Arsenios said when Barbatos stopped beside him. "But can you send me to the Underworld? You know where I need to go. I don't have time to walk there myself."

Barbatos regarded Arsenios for a long moment. This wasn't unusual, necessarily, but there was a tension in the air. Arsenios folded his arms and waited.

"Is it wise for you to go alone?" Barbatos asked.

Arsenios frowned. "This is my problem. And I'm going to take care of it."

Barbatos actually chuckled, which made Arsenios glare at him. "How exactly do you plan on taking care of a reaper?"

"You think I can't handle it?" Arsenios asked.

Barbatos shook his head. "I simply wish for you to consider what you will do once you find him."

Arsenios paused. He had considered it, of course. "I'm… going to talk to him."

The fondness in Barbatos's eyes was both endearing and infuriating. "Do you think he will listen?"

Arsenios huffed. "Maybe not, but it isn't like I have a choice. Look, you can't talk me out of this. If you don't help me get there, I'll walk instead. I'm going to talk to him, try to get my grimoire back, try to end this peacefully. This has gone on too long and I'm not about to put MC's life in any more danger."

"And what about your life, Arsenios?" Barbatos asked.

"What's my life compared to MC's?" Arsenios shot back. He knew he was getting worked up. He took a breath in an attempt to calm himself.

Barbatos shook his head. "This is exactly why I am hesitant to send you."

Arsenios sighed. "Listen, Barb. You know me. I thought I was broken beyond repair. I didn't know I was searching until I found them. I don't plan to die tonight, but if I sacrifice my life to protect them then I'll be doing it knowing I'm saving the one thing that matters to me."

Barbatos closed his eyes in a long suffering expression. "Have you truly found what you think you have, I wonder? Or do you perhaps still fail to understand exactly what it is you have always been seeking?"

"Please, Barb, I don't have time for your all powerful demon riddles," Arsenios said.

Barbatos considered him for a moment. "Very well. I can see that there is nothing I can say to dissuade you. I will open the portal for you."

Arsenios looked suspiciously at this sudden reversal. "Is that right?"

Barbatos chuckled. "Have you changed your mind after all?"

Arsenios knew he didn't have the luxury to question it. "No. Send me, please."

Barbatos opened a portal. Just before Arsenios stepped through it, he said, "Please be careful."

Arsenios picked up his guitar, which he had left on a nearby bench, and stepped through the portal. He found himself in the Underworld - a dark and ominous corner of it, somewhat near to the reaper prison. Barbatos had known that Arsenios would need to be at a crossroads and that was exactly where he now found himself. The jagged dirt paths that connected beneath his feet were in the center of a forest full of black and leafless trees.

It was dark and empty. The sky was grey. Arsenios strummed a chord on his guitar and it fell dully into the air around him. He didn't let that stop him. He played another chord, letting his fingers get used to the feel of the strings in this strange place. Soon he began some elaborate finger work, soft but complicated. The notes whispered around him like hushed prayers.

Arsenios played the guitar this way for hours. He never stopped, never once faltered. And finally he was rewarded with a flash of silver, letting him know he had finally succeeded. The reaper he sought was not far off, his yellow eyes gleaming from the depths of the trees.

masterpost | chapter fourteen | chapter sixteen [coming soon]

taglist: @avalordream @lonely-north-star @expressionless-fr @featheredcrowbones @pumpkinsareamazing

@szired @bagofwetmice @ashley675901

as always, please comment or dm me if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[shkura2011]

I am gradually translating my texts and throwing them here. There is another big 2 art at the bottom if you open the post completely

Dracula parrot

Side note: there are sex scenes

While Astarion is minding his own business, Tav approaches him and shows him a poster for a Halloween party. Astarion takes note of the flyer.

-What is this?

-I assume there's a party.

Astarion smirks.

-A Halloween party in Baldur's Gate? No doubt there'll be a bunch of drunk idiots celebrating the harvest or something. So, what are you going to do? Go dressed as a zombie or something?

-Well…I could wear a robe and paint myself like a skeleton.

-Oh, that's…creative. I'm sure your friends will be like, "Oh, I'm so scared."

-Want to go?

Astarion seems a little taken aback by the invitation.

-Are you inviting me to the party?

-Well…yeah. We've never been to this party before.

Astarion didn't expect that and shrugs.

-I… I suppose I could. Nothing to lose, right?

-And who are you going to dress up as?

Astarion smiles.

-A vampire, of course.

Tav chuckles.

-A bit corny, don't you think?

Astarion puts his hand on his chest.

-And I'll look damn good. Plus, it'd be pretty funny to see people's faces when they realize I'm real.

-Hmm, fine. I want to see it.

-Are you sure? What if I decide to dine with the party guests?

-I don't mind.

Astarion is very glad to have someone with such a taste for dark humor. He smirks.

-What if I decide to dine with you instead?

-You do that every day.

Astarion grins and moves closer to her.

-Oh, I know, but I can't help but tease you.

-Okay, okay, then we need to get dressed.

-Right. When is this party, anyway?

-Today.

-Oh, sure. He adopts a theatrical, annoyed tone. - Then there's no time to waste.

Tav goes to change and puts on a revealing hooded top and a feathered skirt. She paints her body, repeating her skeleton even on her wings, making it glow in the dark, and the chains on her sides add sparkle. Astarion is surprised to see her again after changing. Even though he's seen her in skirts before, he was completely unprepared to see her so glowing, and the glowing skeletal paint makes her even more incredible. He quickly pulls himself together, but can't help but think to himself that Tav looks absolutely stunning.

-I… didn't expect an outfit like this. You look… truly incredible, my dear.

Tav looks at his vampire attire, which was, of course, completely unnecessary. He was wearing a black frock coat over a white poet shirt, a pair of black leather pants, shiny shoes, and silver bracers. It was quite obvious that he was trying to wear the most stereotypical "vampire" outfit he could find.

-What do you think? Does it look right?

-The only thing missing to make it more commonplace is a red-lined cloak.

Astarion mock-sneers.

-How dare you? Red-lined cloaks aren't commonplace, they're classy.

-Yeah, yeah, old man.

Astarion rolls his eyes playfully.

-Of course you wouldn't agree. You have the fashion sense of a corpse.

-I'm a corpse now.

-But a very handsome one. He smirks, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

-Well, thank you.

-Anytime, my dear.

He kisses her cheek, still amazed at how good she looks in that costume.

-So, are you ready to go?

-Give me a second.

Tav pulls out that stupid red-lined vampire cloak and puts it on him. Astarion laughs back.

"You really are trying to make a model of me, aren't you?"

"You started it."

"Tch, okay."

He rolls his eyes playfully and twirls around sarcastically, showing off his cloak.

"Are you happy now?"

"Yes."

He sighs dramatically.

"Okay, okay. But if I look completely ridiculous and everyone laughs at me, I'll blame you."

"I'll laugh too, don't worry."

"I have no doubt about it, my dear," he says, feigning irritation.

"Ready?"

Astarion nods and offers his arm.

"Shall we go?"

Tav takes his hand and follows him. Astarion leads them both through the streets of Baldur's Gate, the city lights reflecting off her skeletal paint. They approach the palace where the party is taking place. The surroundings are decorated in the spirit of the holiday – lots of jack-o-lanterns, graveyard decorations, potion cauldrons, and a few skeletons. Astarion smirks as they walk inside.

-Well, my dear, the moment of truth has arrived.

-Try not to bite some poor thing right away.

Astarion sighs sarcastically.

-Fine. I'll wait until we're alone to do it.

-Oh, fuck you.

-Oh, no, my dear. That'll happen after I bite you.

Tav swats him with his tail in playful annoyance. Astarion feigns recoiling in pain.

-Ah, you're hurting me!

The party seemed to be quite a big event, and the building was packed with people in all sorts of costumes.

-Looks like we're not the only ones who thought to dress like this.

-That's…a lot of people.

-Yeah, looks like everyone decided to show up.

He scans the crowd, noticing something.

-Ah! See that group over there?

-Hm? Where?

-Right there, by the buffet table.

He points to a group a few meters away. Astarion smiles slyly as she looks at the group.

-Yeah.

Astarion leans over and whispers in her ear.

-They all have fake teeth and "blood" around their mouths. Can you believe they think that's supposed to look real?

-Ha! What idiots.

-I know, right? And they look like they're trying their hardest not to laugh while they talk.

Astarion continues to watch the group for a few more moments.

-And I almost want to go over and show them what a real vampire looks like.

-And how are you going to do that? Bite them?

-Oh no, no, it's not that simple. - He grins. -They look like idiots who would run away screaming if I just made them think I was going to bite them.

-If they even believe you.

Astarion smirks as an idea occurs to him.

-You know, honey, you could help me with this. Just play along with what I'm about to do, okay?

-Are you sure?

-Yeah, yeah, I just thought of the perfect way to do it. Just trust me, okay?

His grin widens as he watches the group. They're still pretending to eat, laughing with fake fangs in their mouths.

-I hope this doesn't end in a fight.

-Sweetheart, please. Do you really think I'd start a fight in the middle of a crowded room over a bunch of idiots in lousy suits? - He points at them again, his face full of fake annoyance. - They already look like a bunch of spoiled rich kids and don't have the slightest idea how to fight.

-You mean this is a snack?

-Exactly. - He says with a hint of disdain in his voice. - Now follow me. Trust me, they'll run like chickens.

Astarion makes a dramatic move, adjusting his clothes and taking a deep breath before he starts walking straight towards the group. Tav follows him. As he approaches, the people look at him and sneer. One of them, a pale, skinny guy with blond hair, raises an eyebrow and smiles smugly.

-Really? A vampire costume? How original.

Astarion stops right in front of the group, looking the blond straight in the eye.

-Seriously? I'd say this costume is a little more original than that sad excuse for a fake mouth with fangs you have.

The blond's smile turns into an annoyed, somewhat forced grimace.

-You really think you can challenge me to a duel with those pathetic 'fangs' of yours? And that cheap cape, of course. Just so you know, this is an original, custom-made suit.

Tav looks the guy over, trying to find bite marks from his transformation. The blond notices the look, and his eyes follow hers, clearly noticing that she's searching for something on his neck. He raises an eyebrow and tries to cover his neck with his hand.

-What are you looking at my neck for, huh?

-If you're really pretending to be a vampire, you should have a mark from the transformation.

The blond's smile completely disappears.

I…I need what?

-Stari, can you?

-Tch, my pleasure, dear.

Astarion lifts the collar of his coat to hide his neck and moves behind the blonde, then pretends to bite his neck.

-…I mean, show him your mark.

Astarion looks up from his fake bite and smirks before pulling his shirt down low enough to show the blonde the two marks on his neck. The blonde's eyes widen as he looks at them, his mouth hanging open in shock. Astarion smirks at the blonde's stunned expression and stands up again, casually adjusting his shirt to hide the marks again.

-Is something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost.

The blonde just stares at Astarion for a few moments, still unable to speak. Finally finding his words, he stammers out,

-A-Are you really a vampire?

Astarion leans in so close that his face is just a few centimeters from the blond's, and then he smiles, baring his fangs.

-Do you really have to ask?

The blond instinctively steps back, but Astarion holds him in place by grabbing his shoulder. He leans a little closer and lowers his voice to a threatening whisper.

-Are you starting to regret laughing at my 'pathetic' cloak?

Astarion's grin widens as he watches the color drain from the blond's face. He moves even closer, practically pressing himself against the blond, and continues to whisper,

-You look… a little pale.

Tav chuckles a little, and Astarion raises an eyebrow and smiles back.

-We're having fun, huh?

-What? Halloween is supposed to be scary, right?

-I guess you're right, dear.

Astarion smirks, suddenly gripping the blonde's shoulder even tighter, ready to pounce at any moment.

-I wonder… if I sank my fangs into you, what would you do?

Astarion runs his tongue over his fangs, still holding the blonde's shoulder. He clearly enjoys making this idiot tremble in fear. Astarion approaches the blonde's neck, pretending to be about to bite him. He stops when his lips are just a few millimeters from the skin, savoring the sheer terror in the boy's eyes.

-Hmm… I wonder what your blood tastes like… You know, you look like you're about to shit yourself from fear.

Astarion throws his head back, finally breaking out of his 'attack' pose, and laughs at the look of fear on the blonde's face.

-I must admit, my dear, this is quite hilarious.

Astarion takes a step back from the blonde, who immediately slouches a little, clearly relaxing and trying to maintain his old self-confidence.

-And you were worried that this wouldn't work! I should take you hunting more often.

-Okay, okay.

Astarion smiles, clearly pleased with how well this went. He's also still enjoying the blonde's wide-eyed, trembling expression.

-Well, I think that's enough fun for today. I think that idiot has learned his lesson. What do you think?

-If he apologizes.

Astarion glances at the blonde, who seems to be trying to work up the courage to speak.

-Well, go ahead. Don't be rude.

The blond swallows a few times, clearly struggling to find the words. Eventually, he manages to find the courage to mumble,

-I-I… I'm sorry…

-Okay.

-That wasn't that hard, was it?

Astarion laughs again at how humiliated the blond looks before smirking at Tav.

-Well, I think we've had enough fun. Shall we continue our little stroll, my dear?

-Of course.

Astarion looks back at the group of Halloween revelers, who simply back away slowly before turning back to Tav.

-Let's leave these fools to whine in fear. And more importantly, find a place where I can take off this stupid cloak.

Tav follows.

-Already?

-I swear, it's like a fucking bathhouse.

Astarion leads her out of the palace and into a secluded area of ​​the cemetery, between two old tombstones. He turns around to check that no one is watching, then shrugs off his black cloak, tossing it to the ground. Tav stretches, spreading his wings.

-You haven't lived with my wings yet.

Astarion raises an eyebrow, looking her up and down with a smirk.

-It must be painful, living with those things. I can't imagine trying to walk through a door with a big pair of those things sticking out of your back.

-I'm used to it, thank you.

Astarion snorts.

-Seriously? They seem like a hell of a lot to 'get used to'. Especially in a tight space.

-Yeah, sometimes I hate it.

-Just sometimes? If I walked around with big things sticking out of my back that were in the way of my ability to walk between chairs and knocking over my drinks, I'd whine about it nonstop.

-You're already whining.

-Hm. Fair enough. Okay, okay, you're just incredibly resilient and used to it. I'm whining, but those wings will drive me crazy in less than an hour, I know it.

-Well, maybe they'll at least keep you warm.

Astarion smirks and gives her a cheeky smile.

-That's debatable, my dear. Besides, I have a much better way to keep warm.

-An odd statement from the undead.

Astarion snorts again before stepping closer to her, the same smirk on his face.

-I don't think that's true, considering there's only one living person here who can actually keep me warm, my dear.

-Oh, want a hug?

-What I have in mind could be called a hug of sorts, I suppose.

Astarion stops in front of her and runs his hand down her waist before pulling her closer to him. He then wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his chest, burying his face in her neck. She holds onto his shoulder carefully.

-You'll get my paint on you.

Astarion laughs softly, clearly unfazed by the paint.

-It'll wash off.

He pulls her hood down, kissing her neck softly a few times before resting his chin on her shoulder.

-Mmm, aren't we in a hurry? The party's just started.

-I don't care if I miss the party.

Astarion nuzzles her neck, his hands on her waist pulling her as close to him as possible.

-Besides, a night spent like this, just the two of us, sounds a lot nicer than some stupid party.

-Good..

Astarion runs his hand down her back, his touch becoming a little more teasing as he feels the soft skin.

-I like it better this way. Just you and me. No noise, no crowds, no distractions.

Tav hugs him back, running his hands through his hair.

-Is this even a real cemetery?

-What do you mean, dear?

Astarion hums softly as he begins to kiss and nibble at her neck. One of his hands moves to rest on her ass while the other continues to trace her spine. Tav inhales a little sharper at the feel of his hand.

-…I mean, is this just decoration or is this really a cemetery?

Astarion laughs, amused at how his touch has affected her. His hand begins to gently knead her ass as he whispers in her ear.

-This is a real cemetery, my dear, where real people are buried under real trees. Right under our feet.

-You're… weird.

-Sweetheart, you're the one with the wings. If anyone's weird here, it's you, not me.

-But you chose this place.

Astarion shrugs, nuzzling her neck again.

-The aesthetic seemed to suit the season. Besides, a cemetery at night is much more romantic than a silly party.

-Okay, fine. Appropriate for the situation.

One of his legs slides between hers. His hand is still gently kneading her ass, his lips still on her neck. Tav almost holds her breath.

-What are you… even doing?

-Mmm… what do you think I'm doing, dear?

Astarion chuckles, his hand massaging her ass more firmly while the other begins to roam up and down her back. His lips leave her neck for a moment, only to begin kissing her ear, nipping gently at the skin.

-Mmm… you're an impudent little bat.

Astarion chuckles softly at the nickname, his breath warm on her ear. He squeezes her ass playfully while his other hand wanders down her front, beginning to play with the hem of her skirt.

-Guilty as charged, dear.

-And he doesn't even deny it… remind me why I even let you do this?

Astarion laughs again, amused by the reaction.

-Because you won't deny me this, my dear.

He starts kissing her neck again, while his hand moves bolder under her suit. She doesn't stop him, relaxing under his caresses.

-You don't want me to stop, do you?

Astarion smirks into her neck when he realizes that she's without underwear again.

-Naughty… you know, one day you'll really get into trouble for these habits of yours.

-What trouble?

Astarion laughs again, moving his lips closer to her ear again.

-I'll have to keep a close eye on you, my dear. You're too easy to get yourself into a dark corner.

-Me? It's you.

-Me? Sweetheart, you're the one who goes without underwear.

His hand teasingly slides up the inside of her thigh, moving closer to her legs.

-Well, yeah, but you always choose dark streets.

-It's not my fault that there are always conveniently placed dark alleys and corners around.

-So it's my fault?

Astarion laughs, squeezing her thigh lightly.

-Of course. You, walking around without underwear all the time? Like you're asking to be dragged into a dark alley, darling.

-No.

His fingers draw small, soft circles on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

-No? Darling, all I have to do is grab you and then push you against the wall…

-You can do that when I put on underwear, too.

Astarion laughs, then playfully bites her neck, making it clench.

-Really, it's just easier this way. And you're doing your best not to wear it.

-Yes, I prefer freedom.

-You call not wearing underwear freedom?

-Yes.

Astarion grins, his other hand holding her hips tightly against him.

-Darling, I don’t think any underwear would make you any less free than you already are.

-Yes, but it makes me bolder.

Tav kisses his neck briefly. Astarion trembles slightly, his hand on her hip tightening a little.

-That’s right, dear. Do you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you at camp?

-I know.

-Then you’ll also understand why I need to take you somewhere nice and quiet once in a while, alone.

Astarion’s hand moves higher under her skirt, getting so close to where it’s starting to fall apart. Tav tenses her thighs a little, feeling his cool skin. Astarion chuckles softly, sliding his hand up and she feels his fingers touch her more boldly.

-Relax, darling.

Tav hugs him a little tighter and shifts from one foot to the other, burying her face in his neck. Astarion hums into her neck as he begins to gently caress.

-Shhh, darling. Don't be so nervous…

-Mmm… what are you even…

Astarion gently caresses the flesh with one hand, the other still holding her close.

-Shhh… honey, I'm just touching you.

Tav shifts from one foot to the other and spreads them a little wider for him, flicking her tail slightly restlessly. Astarion smiles into her neck, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

-Good girl.

When he speaks, you can hear the hint of desire in his voice. His fingers continue to caress her gently, but now he begins to add a little pressure. Tav throws her head back, feeling the pleasure of his hands, and hums softly. Astarion chuckles, amused by her sensitivity.

-Shh, dear. You don't want anyone to hear, do you?

-Mmm…damn..

Astarion laughs, still nuzzling her neck, leaving random kisses on her skin.

-Shh, dear… you must be quiet…

Tav covers her mouth with her hand, hugging him.

-That's it, dear… we don't want to wake the dead, do we?

She nods. Astarion chuckles again, his hand moving a little faster as he continues to kiss her neck.

-Okay… just be quiet, dear.

Tav moves her hips slightly in time with his caresses, shaking with pleasure. Astarion hums, his own arousal growing.

-Shh… that's it…

Tav gradually begins to moan through her clamped mouth as the sensations build, and eventually he brings her to the peak. Her legs buckle slightly from the sensations. Astarion chuckles, pulling her a little closer to him so she doesn't fall completely, while his hand continues to pleasure her.

-Shh, darling, don't fall… I'm holding you…

She leans against him, arching her back in a low, drawn-out moan as she passes her peak. Astarion laughs softly, holding her close and not letting her fall as she sinks into waves of pleasure.

-Shh… did you enjoy it, darling?

-You're…gods..

Astarion chuckles, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips as he hears her ragged breath.

-Oh, that's the sound I love to hear.

-Mmm, fuck..

-Oh, darling, we're not done yet…

-Yes, I know. Do you want more?

Astarion hums into her neck, his arousal clearly growing, she can feel it.

-Oh, so much more, darling.

-Are you enjoying this now?

Astarion laughs, nuzzling his neck.

-Yes, darling, but I need you to be in a more private place just in case I can't control my impulses.

-Where?

Astarion looks around for a moment, scanning his immediate surroundings to find a good spot. Then his gaze catches something, and he looks at her with a sly smile.

-Follow me, my dear.

She follows him, gathering up his cloak. Astarion leads her to a small corner of the cemetery, hidden from view behind a mausoleum. He presses her against the wall, his hips pressing against hers, making her feel how much he wants her.

-Mmm…are you ready?

-Oh, my dear, I've been ready since the moment I saw you. Just tell me if I'm too rough.

-Okay..

Astarion tugs her skirt down, pressing her body harder against the cool wall of the mausoleum. His hands roam over her, tracing her curves, while his mouth nibbles and kisses her neck.

-Gods, you have no idea how much I want you…

-You're lucky, I want you too.

Astarion chuckles into her neck, lifting one of her legs. He pulls her up, pinning her to the wall with one hand while the other moves between their bodies, pulling his pants down just enough to give him room to breathe.

-You have no idea how much I need you.

Tav is instantly aroused by his movements, and wraps her leg around his hips. Astarion laughs breathlessly, looking down at her, a dark, hungry look in his eyes. He adjusts his grip to hold her better before he pushes himself up. Tav shudders at the sensation, and a soft moan escapes her lips. Astarion hums in satisfaction.

-Shh, darling, you want someone to hear you…

He begins to push deeper into her slowly, making sure she has time to get used to him, but the look in his eyes makes it clear how much he is fighting the urge. Tav nods and catches his breath, feeling it. Astarion laughs against her neck, his breath quick and shallow. Even so, there is a hint of mischief in his voice when he speaks.

-You like this, don't you, dear? -He pauses, moving further in slowly.

-Mmm…yes.

-Of course you do, dear. You like the danger of it…you like the risk of someone catching us.

-It's all your influence.

-But, dear, it's not my fault you like the risk.

With that, he pushes all the way in, his tongue finding a particularly sensitive spot on her neck and nipping at it, not breaking the skin but just enough for her to feel his teeth. She clenches her fists at the sensation.

-You can…drink if you want.

-Oh, darling, don't tempt me…

As he says this, he presses even harder, continuing the assault on her neck, his tongue and lips finding that sensitive spot that always drives her crazy, while his hips begin to move in a steady, deep rhythm. Tav breathes harder in pleasure and closes her eyes. With her wings, she covers them from the world, making them disappear completely behind the large feathers and shadow of the wings. He maintains a steady rhythm, while his lips and tongue continue to search for sensitive spots on her neck and shoulder.

-Gods…you are so perfect…

Tav lifts his face and kisses him, lost in the pleasure of their connection. Astarion answers her with a deep, hungry, demanding kiss. He presses her against the wall, moving at a slower but deeper and stronger pace, his tongue parting her lips to deepen the kiss even more. His hands begin to roam her body, tracing the lines and scars on her skin as he tries to pull her even closer to him. She hugs him tighter, continuing the deep kiss and trying to wrap her other leg around him, bracing herself against the wall. Astarion moves his hands to her hips for a better grip, but there is a hint of mischief in his voice as he speaks against her lips, in the short, breathless moment between kisses.

-You're trying to drive me crazy, aren't you, dear?

-A little…

Astarion lets out another of those funny little chuckles, continuing to move against her at the same deep, slow and strong pace, his lips breaking away from hers long enough to respond.

-And you do it exceptionally well, darling… but I guess I'll just have to show you why you shouldn't tease me like that…

Tav presses her body tighter against him in pleasure. Astarion begins to pick up the pace, the movement of his hips now harder and more demanding. He leans down to find that really sensitive spot on her neck again. She tries to hold back the moans of her heavy breathing, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

-And you just keep holding me tighter… do you even know what you're doing to me?

-Yeah…haaa..

Astarion laughs, his lips still pressed to my neck.

-You're really doing this on purpose, aren't you, darling… You want me to lose control…

-Just love me… enjoy it yourself.

Astarion laughs, but the laugh quickly turns into a moan as he continues to work on that spot on her neck.

-I love you… and you give me so much pleasure…

He speaks in a softer, more serious tone as he lifts his face from his neck to look at her.

-You're just perfect, darling…

Tav tries to focus on him, but his rhythm is confusing her. He gently runs his fingers through her hair.

-Shh…you're starting to lose yourself, darling…

-Mmm…love.

Astarion chuckles, his tone still soft but slowly beginning to sound a little more strained as he tries to maintain his composure.

-I love you… so much, darling…

He keeps a steady pace, continuing to pepper her neck with kisses and bites as his hand roams her body, tracing every contour, trying to bring her even closer to release. Tav tries to hold back his moans so they won't be detected as the pleasure from his actions increases, and she holds his leg tightly with her tail. He leans down to speak into her ear again, his low, quiet tone, his movements becoming faster with each passing moment.

-Shh… we don't want anyone to find us like this… we have to be quiet, darling…

To hold back her moans, she bites his shoulder through his clothes and holds him tighter. Astarion hisses slightly, but he does nothing to stop her, and the only sound he manages to make is a low, strangled groan as he feels her press herself even tighter against him. He quickens the pace of his hips even more, all the while speaking to her in the same low, lustful tone that begins to become more and more intense as he tries to keep himself from losing control completely.

-Careful, darling… you're going to break the skin…

Tav whispers to him, her voice strained.

-Sorry…

-It's… okay, darling… but I'll get back at you for this later…

With that, he continues his assault, all the while speaking into her ear, his voice still quiet but more intense than before.

-Are you… close, darling?

Tav nods, stretching along the wall in pleasure. He presses himself harder against her, continuing to work fast and deep.

-Come on, darling… I want to feel you…

Tav moans softly, squeezing him tighter and feeling her legs cramp up. Astarion feels her peak as he buries his head in her neck and shoulders, desperately trying to keep himself from following her over the edge.

-God… damn… darling… you feel too much…

-Don't hold back..

Astarion tries to regain control again, but the way she talks to him and the words that come out of her mouth make it even harder to maintain any composure.

-I… we could get… caught…

-I don't mind… give me everything.

She pulls him closer, squeezing him tighter and helping him reach his peak. Astarion hums passionately against her lips as her words and actions break the last of his control as the kiss becomes deep, desperate and hungry as he gives in to her and his own needs and desires. With one last hard thrust he follows her over the edge, desperately trying to keep the last sounds of his release from escaping him and filling the air as he leans against her, his legs shaking from the aftermath. Tav freezes, still trying to catch his breath. Astarion leans further against her as the thrusts race through his body. As the last of them leave him, he takes another shaky breath before speaking to her in the same low, choked voice.

-Sweetheart… you will be… the death of me…

-Love you too…

Astarion laughs lightly at her response as his legs struggle to keep his body upright after the final onslaught, clinging to her like a drowning man. He hugs her tighter and whispers to her in a quiet, yet sincere and almost vulnerable tone:

-Darling… I… love you… so much…

Tav kisses him softly, still unsure of how to separate their bodies. Astarion kisses her back, the kiss surprisingly gentle and light, compared to how hungry and demanding everyone else had been before. There is something fragile in his voice, as it is clear that he is not ready to part with her yet, and his grip on her tightens.

-Darling… I don't… think… I can still move…

-Mmm… okay.

Astarion laughs softly as he lets a soft puff of air touch her neck before he speaks in a quiet and slightly strained tone, as he can feel the residual tremors of pleasure still in his body.

-Do you… mind if we… stay like this for a little while longer, dear?…

-Of course.

-Ah… good…

He sighs, holding her tighter and burying his head in her neck, he can still feel himself shaking a little from his own release. He stays like that, holding her tightly, standing against the wall, as they slowly try to even out their breathing.

-Will my back protest tomorrow?

Astarion can't help but laugh, kissing her neck again gently. His tone is still quiet, but light and slightly mocking.

-Oh, most likely, dear… You'll feel me for a few more days after this…

-I already hate you.

-Oh, don't exaggerate.

He lightly, playfully bites her skin, causing her to shudder.

-No, darling… we both know you love me…

-Mmm… aren't you hungry?

-Oh, darling, I could eat you all up, but I think you need to rest a little first.

-Maybe a little.

-Then I'll give you a moment to rest, darling.

Astarion kisses her neck again gently before slowly releasing her and speaking calmly.

-Okay, I'll let you go. Can you stand on your own, darling?

Tav tries to stand on her own, but still leaning against the wall.

-I'm not sure.

Astarion laughs, lightly, the sound slightly strained, like a mixture of lust and amusement, when he sees that her legs aren't quite obeying her.

-It looks like you might need my help.

-Happy with that?

-Of course, darling.

With that, Astarion hugs her gently but firmly, lifting her up to hold her close.

-Can't have you tripping all over the place now, can we?

Astarion can't help but laugh at how tired she is and how hard it is for her to move on her own while he holds her tightly in his arms. With a small smile on his face, he speaks softly.

-Can you even stand on your own or are you stuck to me forever, dear?

-Oh, shut up. At least I can fly… I guess

-You almost sound like a petulant child, dear.

Astarion laughs and smiles again, adjusting his grip on her a little to make sure she doesn't try to slide down on her own.

-And I doubt you'll be flying anytime soon with these legs, dear.

-I don't need legs to fly

-You're not in a condition to fly right now either, dear.

Astarion laughs again, the sound still cheerful as he begins to walk, slowly moving away from the wall, he holds her tightly to him.

-You're not going to act like a spoiled brat now, are you, dear?

-I'll think about it.

She helps him fasten his pants, leaning on him. Astarion squeezes her lightly, holding her tighter to him.

-That's the kind of girl I have - always willing to help.

-I hope I do this right.

-You did well, dear. Now come here.

He lifts her up a little, so she looks more like a bride, before continuing to walk.

-You don't want your legs to give out, do you?

She takes the opportunity to pick up his cloak and inspect his face and clothes.

-Well, look what you've done - both of your hair is disheveled, covered in my paint. What is this..

Astarion laughs, he can't deny that they're both a little rumpled, but he doesn't seem to care at the moment as he glances down at his clothes, noticing the various paint stains on them, and lets out another small chuckle.

-Well, I don't mind being covered in you, my dear.

-And who's going to wash it all off?

Astarion pauses for a moment, smiling as if momentarily distracted by the thought, and then speaks in a slightly seductive tone

-I think we could wash each other clean.

-Maybe.

Astarion smiles as he walks, still holding her in his arms. His tone becomes a little lighter, a little more teasing as he speaks, clearly amused at the thought of cleaning up the mess.

-Mmmm… I like that thought, dear…

As he carries her, she tries to wipe the paint off his face. Astarion laughs at her attempt, the action almost too cute, though the paint doesn't seem to want to wash off that easily.

-Ah… that… probably won't work, dear. We'll have to wash it off properly…

-Ugh… I hate you. Why does everything always end like this.

Astarion laughs again as he looks at her paint-spattered face, clearly amused by the whole situation.

-Oh, come on, dear, it's not that bad, is it? The paint won't kill us. It's not even permanent.

-Yeah, but I mean it always ends in sex.

Astarion laughs again, squeezing her a little in his arms, as if to make sure she won't break away from his embrace.

-You say that like it's a bad thing, dear. I don't see anything negative in this situation at all, do you?

-My back is against it.

Astarion laughs again at her answer, before he lightly pokes his fingers into her sides, a playful smirk appearing on his face.

-Ah, still complaining? I thought we were past the whining part, dear.

-No, I was just getting started.

-You just can't stop being cheeky, can you, dear?

-Yes

-You're so difficult, dear… but I still love you.

Tav runs a hand down his cheek, wiping away the paint.

-And I love you…sometimes.

Astarion pretends to be annoyed by her slightly ambiguous remark, even as he nuzzles his cheek into her hand.

-Only sometimes? Sweetie, after everything I've done today, you only love me sometimes?

-I wanted to go to the party, and now I can't at all. Where are my sweets?

Astarion can't help but laugh again as he speaks to her in a gentle yet slightly sarcastic tone:

-Oh, we won't sulk. I think I already treated you to something delicious, so you have nothing to complain about.

-I'll only whine more if I don't get sweets.

-Oh, really? You really are turning into a little whiner, aren't you?

Astarion lets out a small chuckle before continuing, his tone slightly amused and playful:

-Are you going to throw a tantrum like a little child, dearie?

-Yes.

Astarion laughs again, clearly amused by her stubborn, complicated, and capricious answers as he speaks in a gentle and almost condescending tone.

-Oh…I guess I'll have to find you some sweets to shut you up, won't I?

-Yes.

-Okay, okay, I get it. I'll find you some sweets. And if I do, you won't throw a fit, right?

Tav notices him carrying her past the palace where they were at the party.

-You can leave me here on the bench and go buy something sweet.

-Well, if you behave yourself…

Astarion sets her down on a nearby bench before he kisses her lightly on the forehead.

-I'll be back. Don't run away, dear. Be nice and patient.

-Pfft, as if I can walk.

Astarion laughs at her answer, his laugh quiet and light, looking at her with amusement before speaking in a slightly mocking tone, clearly enjoying the situation.

-Well, that's fair. I doubt you'll be able to crawl away without me noticing.

He gives her another light kiss before straightening up.

-Now don't go anywhere while I find you something.

Astarion smiles before playfully petting her head and turning to leave, though he can be seen glancing over his shoulder every now and then, clearly keeping an eye on her. He leaves to find something sweet. Tav sits on a bench, his vampire cloak close to him, trying to tidy himself up. Astarion returns after a while, bag in hand, smiling when he sees it's still there.

-Oh, you've been good, I see. I brought you some sweets.

Astarion sits down next to her on the bench before setting the bag down between them and begins to take out the contents. There's a mix of different cakes and sweets, all the kinds he thinks she might like.

-I bought you a few different ones. I didn't know what you'd want, so you'll have to pick what you like.

-I'll die…

-If you eat them all at once, maybe.

Astarion lets out a small chuckle before speaking softly, looking at her playfully.

-But just one or two shouldn't kill you, my dear.

-You don't know me well enough to think I'd stop at two.

-Oh, so you're going to eat them all, huh?

Astarion chuckles softly again, clearly surprised by her answer, and looks at her with a small smile, a hint of worry in his red eyes.

-You'll be sick, my dear.

-I've never gotten sick from sweets.

-Never? Not once?

-I'm above that.

Astarion laughs again before he gives her a small teasing smirk as he speaks in a slightly mocking tone.

-Oh really? Do you have an iron stomach?

-Yeeeesss.

A hint of teasing excitement in his eyes as he speaks to her with a small smirk, looking at her with obvious amusement.

-Well, prove it. Eat them all. Right here.

-What? No. It would be too wasteful to eat them all in one evening.

-But you said you could eat them all and not get sick, right? Or are you giving up already?

-And I can, but I want to take home something sweet for tomorrow.

-You're sure you can, right?

Astarion sighs again, quietly and cheerfully, looking at her with a mixture of mock disappointment and amusement.

-Well, at least you show a little restraint for once.

Astarion's expression turns slightly playful as he teases her.

-Though I doubt they'll live to see tomorrow.

Tav takes one of the candies into her mouth, sticking her forked tongue out at him.

-They're not yours, that's why you're mad.

-I'm not mad, dear, I'm just doubtful. I doubt they'll live to see tomorrow with you around.

-We'll see.

-If they do, I'll be surprised. I know you, dear, you have no limits when it comes to sweets.

Tav eats another candy, wagging her tail contentedly. Astarion watches, smiling, looking at her with mild affection and amusement. He looks at her tail, clearly enjoying the way she wags it.

-Well, someone seems happy.

-Mmm..

Astarion continues to watch her, smiling as she continues to put the sweets in her mouth, her tail wagging slightly. He reaches out and gently strokes her head, speaking to her in a soft tone.

-Are they good, dear?

Tav groans in satisfaction, feeling his hand.

-Mm, yes.

-Good, I'm glad you like them. Eat as much as you want, dear, I bought them for you.

-Where did you get them?

Astarion lets out a small chuckle before answering her question with a hint of amusement in his voice, his hand sliding through her hair.

-Does it matter, dear? It doesn't matter, what matters is that I got you sweets.

-Hm, good. Do you want anything?

-Darling, if anyone here needs anything right now, it's you. You've been through a lot tonight, you need something tasty.

-But I want to give you blood too.

Astarion laughs softly and easily at her answer, enjoying how stubbornly sweet and caring she is being right now, continuing to stroke her head.

-Darling, I'm fine, I don't need anything. You worry about yourself right now.

-If you're sure.

-I'm sure, darling. Tonight, I want you to worry only about yourself. You're always thinking about others, I just want you to think about yourself for a moment. Can you do that, darling? For me?

-Okay.

-Good girl.

Astarion smiles and continues to run his fingers through her hair before he speaks to her in a soft commanding tone.

"Just relax and don't worry about anything. Let yourself go and just enjoy these sweets, okay? Nothing else matters right now, you deserve it."

Astarion looks at her with mild sympathy and amusement as he watches her eat the sweets, his gaze lingering on her and her happy expression for a few moments before he looks back at the party. There's a hint of boredom behind his own expression as he watches the people around them, clearly far more interested in her than anything else. He continues to lightly stroke her head as he speaks to her in a soft tone.

"Are you having fun, my dear?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Me? Well, this party isn't exactly my style, is it? I've never been one for celebrating, and this doesn't feel like a party at all. I'd rather just spend time with you.

-Is this some kind of circus to you?

Astarion looks at her and chuckles softly at her question, a hint of amusement and sarcasm in his voice as he speaks.

-A circus? Well, that would be an accurate description. The number of clowns here is astounding.

-What would you do if I dressed up as a vampire too?

-Well, that would be very nice, my dear. But I'd say you already look like a vampire without the costume.

-Really?

Astarion nods.

-Really, my dear. There's something vampire-like about you, I always thought. Your skin is pale, like a vampire's, and those two sharp little fangs of yours only help it.

-Hmm, well, yes.

-See, my dear. You don't need a costume. You just have to smile and show your little fangs, so everyone knows you're a vampire.

Tav shows him his fangs. Astarion sighs softly, a hint of desire and excitement in his voice.

-Yes… Yes, that's right.

Astarion's eyes linger on her for a few seconds, on her fangs, before his expression softens a little, his tone becoming a little more gentle again.

-Yes, my dear… Those fangs only prove my point."

-Yes, but the point of the holiday is also to celebrate evil, or something like that.

Astarion nods, his tone slightly more thoughtful.

-Yes, it is. Or rather, a celebration of… monsters like us, I suppose you could say. Those who thrive in the shadows and on the blood of the mortals they prey on.

-Shouldn't you be glad?" It's pretty much the only day you don't get hated for it.

Astarion sighs slightly, his tone taking on a hint of bitterness.

-I suppose you're right. It's usually a day when the likes of us can hide in plain sight. But I wouldn't say I'm happy about it. These fools think they're dressing up to look like us, but they don't understand what it's really like to be us. To be a monster.

-Well…yeah.

Astarion nods before continuing to speak, his tone sounding a little more bitter and almost annoyed at this point.

-They're having a great time, having fun playing monster. How can I be happy, seeing all these fools playing costumes, pretending to be like me? It's pathetic.

-Well…they want to see the monster - just give it to them. There are so many potential snacks here.

Astarion smirks slightly, the idea seeming to amuse him at least a little as he glances around the place.

-And you're not wrong… This really is a monster's feast, is it not? So many fools, all gathered here, unaware that there are monsters among them. It's almost too good to be real.

-Do you feel better now?

Astarion looks at her again, his smirk turning into a small smile, his voice sounding a little less bitter.

-Hmm… Perhaps a little better. I still think these fools are pathetic and don't take this whole celebration seriously enough, but… it's actually a good chance, all things considered. So I suppose the answer to your question is: yes, I do feel a little better, my dear.

-If you want, you can go and find someone to eat - I'll wait here.

Astarion looks at her for a moment, considering her words, continuing to speak to her in a soft tone, though there is a hint of reluctance in his words.

-Will that be okay with you? You're not going to go and put yourself in danger if I leave you for a moment, are you?

-I'll stay here, I promise.

Astarion continues to look at her for a moment, his expression seeming hesitant to leave her alone, but her promise seems to convince him, and he replies,

-Okay, dear. Just stay here and don't go, please. I'll be back.

-Okay.

Astarion looks at her for a few more seconds, assessing her expression, before he moves a short distance away and begins to watch the people in the building, looking for potential targets for his hunt.

-At least pick a beautiful woman!

Astarion smirks slightly, replying in a playful tone.

-Why? Are you going to be jealous?

-No. I just don't want you to smell like some kind of boor.

Astarion laughs softly and quietly, but takes them into consideration.

-Okay, my dear. I'll just pick out something pretty, just for you, okay? Just sit there and be good, my dear. I'll be back soon with a nice thing.

Astarion pats her head almost condescendingly, but affectionately, before moving further away from her and continuing his hunt for a nice potential target. Tav waits on the bench, still eating candy. Astarion continues to look around the room, looking at different people, but hasn't found a satisfying potential target yet. When his gaze lands on a woman standing alone in the corner by the window. Astarion subconsciously smiles to himself and walks towards the woman. The woman turns around and sees him approaching her, a small smile spreading across Astarion's face as he begins the conversation in a playful tone:

-Good evening, my dear. Enjoying the party?

The woman looks at Astarion, a look in her eyes that seems almost fascinated, her voice slightly nervous.

-Ah, yes… I do. Do you like it, sir?

Astarion smirks slightly as his charm and charisma seem to be starting to take effect, his voice still full of confidence and playfulness.

-This is quite a fun party, but I admit, I like the view the most.

Astarion's eyes quickly flicker towards Tav, he catches a glimpse of her looking at them, and he seems to enjoy the fact that she is watching, and then looks back at the woman in front of him.

-I must say, you are the most beautiful thing I have seen in this room. A real treat for the eyes.

The woman blushes slightly, and the slight feeling of embarrassment and excitement on her face grows as Astarion's charm and flattery continues to work on her. She stutters a little as she tries to answer him, her voice a little timid and shy.

-Ah… Th-thank you… You're quite handsome yourself, sir…

Astarion chuckles softly, enjoying the woman's reaction, and then his expression becomes a little more seductive as he speaks again, leaning a little closer to her and continuing,

-You're quite shy, aren't you, my dear? It's cute.

Astarion smirks, her shy, almost submissive demeanor only turning him on more as he takes another small step towards the woman, almost towering over her as he continues,

-Are you here alone, my dear? Don't you have a handsome admirer here with you?

Astarion chuckles softly, as the woman's silence is all he needs to know that she is with no one, and that she is all alone and helpless, as if she were easy prey for him.

-No… I didn't think so. You're alone… Just like a little lamb lost in a wolf's den, aren't you, my dear? So helpless…

Tav chuckles softly as he continues to watch. Astarion smirks and glances at her again, sensing that she's watching him and almost enjoying seeing him like this, before looking back at the woman.

-So, a pretty lamb, alone and helpless. I suppose it would be a shame for a wolf to turn down such a treat. Do you agree?

The woman flinches slightly, as if she understands that Astarion's words hint at something dark and dangerous, but the fear in her eyes seems to be mixed with excitement and fascination as she hesitantly nods her head in response to his words.

-… Yes… Yes, that would be… shameful…

Astarion lets out another quiet chuckle, looking at the woman with an almost predatory gaze, still in a slightly seductive tone, continuing to talk to her, slowly closing the distance between them as he leans in a little more towards her.

-So you wouldn't mind if the wolf decided to feast on you? If the wolf took you somewhere quiet where no one could hear you, if the wolf took you and tasted you?

The woman's eyes widen at his words, the implication behind them almost like music to Astarion's ears as he slowly begins to circle her.

-Can I tell you a secret, my dear? A secret I don't usually share with anyone. Do you want to hear it?

Astarion approaches her again, almost pressing himself against her back as he looks over her shoulder, his breath caressing the sensitive skin of her neck as he leans in to almost whisper in her ear.

-I'm hungry, my dear. Hungry. And I think you'd be so delicious…

The woman gasps slightly as she feels him pressed against her, his breath on her skin, a mixture of fear and excitement running through her at his words, her body tenses but at the same time seems to crave the touch of his body on hers as Astarion continues to murmur in her ear, his fingers slowly sliding up her body.

-So good… Delicious…

Astarion slowly runs his hand through her hair, gently gripping it and pulling her head back a little to expose more of her neck to him, his touch still gentle but with a hint of danger behind it.

-You wouldn't mind, would you, my dear? You wouldn't mind if I - tried a little, would you?

The woman gasps slightly again, shaking slightly against him, her body almost shaking with arousal and a hint of fear as Astarion holds her hair, holding her close like trapped prey, his touch and his breath on her neck almost making her want him more, a low, quiet whisper escaping her lips:

-No… No, I don't mind… I don't mind… Just… just be gentle…

Astarion laughs softly at her words and slowly begins to kiss the exposed skin of her neck, his tongue sliding over her pulsing vein as he responds to her, arousal and the desire to taste her running through his body.

-Oh, I'll be gentle, as gentle as a hungry wolf can be…

Astarion's lips continue to move along the skin of her neck, his teeth gently brushing against the flesh, almost teasingly nipping and kissing her as he speaks, the hand that still holds a strand of her hair holding it in place while his other hand moves down her body, gently caressing the soft skin of her hips and waist.

-Such a beautiful…delicious looking neck…

Astarion continues to breathe into her, gently nipping and pinching her skin, moving slowly down her neck, looking for a 'good' place to start, before his teeth finally find a spot that elicits a greater response from her than the others, his tongue slowly sliding over the spot as he chuckles softly.

-You taste so good, darling…

His tongue flicks over the sensitive spot for a moment before he finally decides to close his teeth on the skin, biting down on the sensitive spot on her neck while pressing her a little harder against the wall.

-Stay… still… sweetheart… just… stay… still…

Astarion feels Tav's gaze on him before he finally lets his fangs sink into his victim's neck. A small, soft gasp escapes the woman's lips as she feels his teeth finally break the skin, letting out a soft cry at the feeling of sharp fangs piercing her skin, but as Astarion begins to drink from her, her gasp turns into moans and sighs of pleasure, pain mixing in. Tav scans the room as far as her distance allows, trying to determine if anyone has noticed what is happening, but Astarion and the woman seem to be hidden in a dark corner of the party room, and it seems like most of the people nearby are too drunk to properly focus on the two of them, too caught up in their own merriment to notice what is happening in the corner. Astarion leans against the woman as he drinks, his body almost completely pressing her against the wall, holding her firmly in place, the pleasure of the drink slowly overwhelming his senses before he finally, slowly, peels his teeth away from her and pulls back just enough to look at her. He slowly moves his hands to gently cup her face, his gaze slowly sliding down her body for a moment, noting how she looks pinned against the wall, how her own blood is slowly dripping from the bite mark on her neck, before he finally speaks, his voice quiet, almost hoarse, a whisper:

-Oh… you look… absolutely delicious right now…

Astarion slowly moves his thumb to gently wipe away the trickle of blood, while his other hand slides to gently run through her hair.

-Just look at you, absolutely beautiful in my arms.

Astarion leans towards her again, slowly moving his head closer, his lips gently brushing her neck, the taste of her blood still on his lips as he speaks in a soft whisper,

-You taste so good. I wonder if you want to taste yourself?

Astarion slowly moves his lips up from her neck, over her jaw and chin, before he finally gently touches his lips to hers, pressing a soft kiss to them. His tongue slowly glides over her lips, his own lips still wet with her blood. He pins her against the wall as his lips continue to trail over hers before he finally gently pushes his tongue into her mouth, letting the taste of her own blood touch her tongue. The woman gasps softly as she feels a strange mixture of almost erotic sensations spread through her as the taste of her own blood mixes with the kiss. Her body trembles slightly beneath his as she leans against the wall and he continues to hold her in place. Astarion continues the kiss for another moment before he slowly breaks the kiss, pulling back slightly to look at her.

-How do you taste, darling?

The woman breathes softly, her face flushing as she feels her breathing still a little uneven from the kiss, the taste of the kiss and her own blood still on her lips, her voice quiet and her response almost a little shaky.

-I… I… okay…

Tav continues to eat the candy, sitting on the bench, a little worried for him due to the time that has passed. Astarion laughs softly, licking his lips slowly, the taste of blood still lingering on them as he looks at the woman.

-Have I drunk much, dear? Can you still stand?

The woman looks at him for a moment, still slightly out of breath, her breathing a little ragged, standing against the wall, her expression almost a little dreamy and dazed.

-… No… I… I can still stand…

Astarion looks at her for a moment, as if enjoying the sight of the dazed expression on her face.

-Are you sure? You look a little weak in the knees, dear. Hmm, I think I overdid it a little on you, dear.

Tav then pulls his cloak over herself, patiently waiting for him to finish with her and inhales the last of his scent. Astarion notices this through the window, watching as she covers most of her body with his cloak.

-We are impatient, aren't we?

Astarion finally straightens up slowly and takes a step back from the woman, watching and laughing quietly as she slowly slumps against the wall. A small, smug smile crosses his face as he looks at Tav and speaks again.

-So impatient…

Astarion takes another moment to look the woman over, watching and enjoying how much weaker she looks now, before he steps away from her and makes his way over to Tav, his smile still on his face as he sits down on the bench next to her. Tav had almost fallen asleep wrapped in his cloak, and woke up when she felt him sit down next to her. Astarion can't help but smile when he sees that she is completely wrapped in his cloak, almost completely hidden by the fabric, the only thing really visible being her horns and hair.

-Did you sleep well?

-M? Oh, sorry.

Astarion chuckles softly, seeing the sleepy expression on her face as she looks up at him.

-You look rather lovely, wrapped in my cloak, you know…

-I suppose the hunt went well.

Astarion nods, a small smile playing across his face.

-Oh, a fine hunt. Her blood was excellent…

-Mm, good…

Astarion continues to stare at her, taking a moment to admire how lovely she looks, wrapped in his cloak.

-You look like you could fall asleep on this bench at any moment.

-Maybe a little.

Astarion chuckles again, watching as she slowly leans against him on the bench, his smile softening slightly.

-You're falling asleep, my dear…

-I'm just tired of waiting… and I missed you.

He watches as she slowly and steadily leans her weight toward him.

-Have you missed me so much that you can't stay awake any longer?

-Yes.

Astarion wraps his arms around her shoulders, holding her lightly and letting her rest her head on his chest.

-That much?

Tav hugs him back.

-I was starting to worry.

Astarion lets his hand slide gently up and down her back, admiring the way she's practically curled up against his chest.

-Why are you worried about me, my dear?

-I thought you'd fall for this woman and I'd wait the whole night.

-Is the mighty Tav a little jealous now?

-It's not jealousy. I know, it's just an appetizer… but I missed you.

-You just said it wasn't jealousy, and yet you seem so envious, dear.

-What is there to be jealous of?

-Nothing, I suppose… But you can't deny that you sound a little… Jealous.

-Maybe, but it's just melancholy.

-Because you felt a little lonely without me?

Tav whispers back.

-Yes.

Astarion chuckles softly again, his hand gently running through her hair.

-God, you're so needy, aren't you, dear?

-A little

-You want me to be all yours, don't you, dear?

-Well, I don't mind if you have fun with someone else. I just hope you'll come back to me.

-Of course I would come back to you, dear. You are mine, after all. I can never leave you behind forever.

-Thank you.

His hand gently slides from her hair to rest gently on the back of her head, pulling her into his chest.

-You know I can see how needy you are, don't you, darling? Always wanting my attention.

-I know.

-I have to say, it's quite sweet, darling. Seeing how needy you are. Getting so upset when I don't come back when you're waiting for me.

Tav kisses him briefly on the heart and hugs him tighter, pulling his cloak over them. It makes him pull her even closer, the warm feeling in his chest only growing.

-Gods, you really are needy, aren't you, darling…

-Mmm…love you.

-I love you too, darling.

Tav wraps her tail around his leg.

-Gods, can you be any cuter?

-It's Halloween - I can't be nice today.

-Darling, you know you're still nice, even on Halloween.

-Oh, shut up.

-Make me, darling.

She kisses him briefly.

-That won't shut me up, darling. You'll have to try again.

-You wouldn't dare.

-Oh, I dare. Come on - try to shut me up.

Tav kisses him harder, hiding him from the others with his cloak. Astarion makes a small noise of surprise. His arms instinctively tighten around her, moving to pull her closer to him.

-Better?

-Yes, darling… much better…

-Mmm… good. Is there anything else you want to do at this party?

-What, darling?

-I don't know. I have enough sweets in my bag, and I don't really care for the crowd itself, but maybe you want to do something, or we could go home or somewhere else.

Astarion looks at her for a moment, his mind a little foggy as he considers his options.

-I'd rather not sit here all night. And since I just ate, I suppose we could leave if that's okay with you, of course.

-I don't mind.

She rubs her eyes, trying to wake up.

-You really need a beauty sleep, don't you, dear?

-No, I'm fine.

-You're falling asleep…

Astarion points, his tone still soft, still looking at her, seeing how she's struggling to stay awake.

-Mmm…

-Seriously, dear, if you're tired, just say so.

-I'm not that tired.

-You still look like you're going to fall asleep on me, dear.

-Because it's comfortable.

-You'll fall asleep right here?

-Mmm…what? No, not here. I shouldn't.

-Then go ahead, get up.

Astarion tries to nudge her a little, but gently.

-You can't fall asleep here, dear.

Tav stretches and Astarion stands, lifting her off the bench, still holding her to his chest and wrapping his cloak half around her.

-Let's go before you pass out and I have to carry you home.

-Okay.

Astarion leads her forward, still holding her close and wrapping her in his cloak, his steps slow and steady, making sure she doesn't fall behind because she's tired. Tav follows behind, holding a bag of sweets.

-I'll have to carry your bag, won't I?

-No, where are we going?

-Home, of course. Just a little while longer and we can get you to bed.

-But first we need to wash this paint off me and some of you.

-What, you don't want me to be pretty, too?

-You're always pretty.

-I know, dear, but I'm prettier when I'm not painted like a court jester.

-I haven't painted you like that yet.

-Don't even try.

-I'll think about it.

-I better not. The moment I fall asleep you'll just make me look ridiculous, won't you?

-Now you're giving me ideas.

Astarion chuckles again, still smiling but still a little nervous at the thought.

-You're mean, dear. Absolutely mean.

-A little - you're more than that.

-Hey!

Astarion protests lightheartedly as they approach the house, pretending to be offended by the comment, though he's still smiling and laughing.

-Mean and mean.

-Oh yeah, sorry.

Astarion laughs again, leaning down to quickly kiss the top of her head, his tone still lighthearted and teasing.

-Don't apologize, dear, it's part of your charm.

Astarion smiles softly, looking at her with a mixture of fondness and amusement, still holding her hand until they finally reach the house.

-Come on, dear. Time to wash off those stupid paint marks…

Astarion leads her into the house, still holding her waist, into the bathroom.

-Sit down, dear.

Tav sits down on a chair and tries not to fall asleep. Astarion turns and leaves, returning shortly with a bowl of warm water and a slightly damp cloth.

-Don't fall asleep, dear.

-I'm trying.

Astarion chuckles softly, his eyes soft with amusement as he approaches, sets the bowl on the counter and takes the cloth from it, kneeling in front of her.

-Don't sleep, dear.

-Mmm…

She opens her eyes.

-Good girl.

Astarion picks up the cloth with the water on it and gently wipes the paint off her face and body, his touch light and gentle, yet thorough. He notices that there isn't much paint left, most of it having already gotten onto the clothes during… well, certain activities, a faint trace of a smile on his lips.

-There's really nothing to clean, dear…

-Hm?

She looks at the paint-spattered clothes.

-Oh, damn. I'll have to wash all of this later. And you too.

Astarion chuckles slightly, moving from her face to her shoulder, continuing to gently wipe the paint off her skin.

-You were the one who started smearing the paint everywhere.

-Me? You were the one who started touching me.

-Only because I knew you'd react positively.

Astarion responds, a playful and slightly flirtatious smile still on his face, his voice light and teasing as he moves the cloth to his other shoulder.

-Well…as if I could say no to you.

-I know you can't, dear. But why do you want to resist me when I'm just so charmingly irresistible?

-Fair enough.

-You really like it.

He moves the cloth down to her chest, slowly cleaning the paint off of it. Tav snatches the cloth from him and wipes the paint off his face in return. Astarion lets out an affronted laugh.

-Hey! I'm not done yet.

-You don't have much.

-I was thorough, dear.

-Okay, okay.

-You only clean me up to get me dirty again, don't you?

-No, I just want to see you without my paint.

-You see me without paint all the time, dear.

-I know.

Astarion chuckles again, the pretense of indignation gone, now just playful, but there's still a hint of real hurt in his expression that contrasts with the small smile on his lips.

-I still think you're just looking for an excuse to touch me.

-Well, yes.

-You could have just asked, dear.

-That would have been too easy. Everything is now a pure elf.

-"Pure" would not be the right word, dear, but now I am an elf without paint.

-Well, you can wash your own panties after our "walk" through the graveyard.

She hands him the rag, still trying not to fall asleep. Astarion takes it back.

-You know, you could just let me carry you, dear…

-Okay.

Astarion smiles at the answer, a little surprised that she agreed so easily, without arguing or resisting, but he does not complain - it would have been so much easier for both of them.

-Okay then…

Astarion stands up, scoops her up in his arms and effortlessly lifts her, pressing her to his chest, and smiles. Tav hugs him back.

-Are you comfortable, dear?

-Yes.

-Good. Now why don't you rest, dear?

-And you?

-I'll be fine, dear, don't worry about me.

-But you need rest too.

-I'll rest as soon as you fall asleep, dear.

-If you're sure.

-I'm sure, dear. You need rest. I'll be perfectly fine, worry about yourself, okay?

-Good.

-Good girl. It's time for you to rest, dear. Just close your eyes.

Astarion replies, still carrying her, walking towards the bed and sitting on the edge before carefully laying her down on the bed. She removes the rest of her clothes, leaving her naked on the blanket. Astarion watches, a playful smirk spreading across his face as his eyes roam over her naked body, seeing no reason to look away.

-And now you're just tempting me, darling…

-Mmm…

-God, you're really exhausted.

Astarion lets out an amused chuckle at her complete lack of normal reaction, as it seems she's almost asleep, even though she's not really lying down, just curled up on her side, as if she passed out right there from exhaustion.

-No blanket, no pillow, just fell on the bed and passed out…

-Hm? What?

-Do you even understand what I'm saying, dear? - Astarion asks, raising an eyebrow and speaking in a light, slightly mocking tone -You passed out while I was talking.

Tav crawls a little sluggishly onto the pillow and flops her face into it.

-You really can barely think straight right now.

She pats the mattress next to her in response.

-.. do you want me to get into bed with you?

-Yes.

Astarion's eyes widen at the direct answer, though he really shouldn't be surprised that she wants him to join her in bed, but the directness still takes him a little by surprise.

-You… You really are completely exhausted if you're being so direct.

-I could try to be indirect, but then you'd have to deal with my sleepy logic, and it's even more chaotic than usual.

Astarion can't help but let out another amused chuckle, a smile spreading across his face.

-No, no… Your sleepy honesty is delightful, dear. You don't have to hide it.

-Okay.

-Move over, dear.

Tav makes room for him. Astarion smiles again, coming into the bed, lying down next to her and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest.

"That's better, isn't it?"

Tav hugs him back and sleepily covers him with his wings. His hands gently stroke her back, the feel of her bare skin making him shiver.

-You really are adorable when you're so tired, dear.

-Love you too..

-Love you too, dear. Now sleep.

She mumbles sleepily, falling asleep without even the covers.

-Goodnight…

Astarion smiles at her, looking so peaceful and calm that it makes him melt a little as he looks down at her and pulls her into his chest, speaking in a quiet tone even though he knows she can't hear him anymore.

-Goodnight, dear…

Astarion continues to hold her close to his chest, listening to her soft, even breathing before he pulls the covers over them and begins to close his eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

[angeliqueiguess]

Late-Night Mischief (l.dh)

014. Showstopper

w.count: 835

The store was quiet after another exhausting late-night shift, the kind of quiet that made Y/n’s doubts feel louder. Sitting on a stool behind the counter, she flipped through her notebook, its pages crammed with messy calculations and half-baked ideas. No matter how she spun the numbers, they all pointed to the same grim reality—sales weren’t cutting it, and time was running out.

Across from her, Haechan leaned lazily against the counter, crunching on a bag of chips he’d blatantly grabbed without paying.

Again.

“If this ship’s sinking,” he said through a mouthful of crumbs, “we might as well go down in flames. A real showstopper.”

Y/n didn’t even look up. “Unless your ‘showstopper’ magically triples our sales overnight, I’m not interested.”

“Wow. No faith in my vision. Hold on, though—” Haechan crumpled the chip bag and tossed it into the trash with an unnecessary amount of flair. “What if we turn this place into the late-night spot? Like, not just snacks and karaoke. Something… bigger.”

She raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. “Define ‘bigger.’”

“Picture this,” he said, leaning forward like he was about to pitch a blockbuster. “Trivia nights. Open mics. Maybe even live art shows. This city never sleeps, right? So why should we? We’ll be the go-to for students, night owls, and anyone else who’s bored at 2 a.m.”

Y/n stared at him, trying to decide if he was a genius or just ridiculous. “You’re serious?”

“As serious as I’ve ever been,” he shot back, his grin unwavering. “We don’t just sell snacks; we sell a vibe. And when people are vibing, they spend money. Simple math.”

She tapped her pen against the notebook, thinking it over. It sounded insane, maybe impossible, but also… tempting. If nothing else, it was better than doing nothing.

“Okay,” she said cautiously. “But this has to be airtight. No half-assed ideas.”

“Done,” he said, already pulling out his phone. “Just sit back and watch me work.”

Haechan was a whirlwind. Within hours, he’d mobilized his mysterious network of friends, all of whom apparently had skills perfectly suited for his wild plan. Jeno designed eye-catching flyers that got plastered all over the neighborhood. Mark ditched his usual clumsiness to help rearrange shelves and set up makeshift stages.

Jisung and Haechan tag-teamed social media, hyping the event with countdown posts and behind-the-scenes content.

Even Y/n couldn’t help but get swept up in it. She spent late nights reorganizing the store, brainstorming deals, and trying not to roll her eyes too hard at Haechan’s constant theatrics.

By the time the big night rolled around, the store looked completely different. String lights hung from the ceiling, casting a cozy glow over the aisles. One corner had been turned into a trivia zone, complete with whiteboards and markers, while another featured a tiny stage surrounded by mismatched chairs.

“Ready to make history?” Haechan asked, strolling up beside her in a sequined jacket that looked like it belonged in a 70s disco.

“I’m ready to survive the night,” Y/n replied, though she couldn’t deny the flicker of excitement creeping in.

The event kicked off with a bang. Teams huddled in the trivia corner, arguing over obscure movie quotes and TikTok trends. Local musicians performed acoustic sets, their melodies mixing with the sound of laughter and chatter. Near the front, an artist set up a live painting session, drawing a small crowd of curious onlookers.

Behind the counter, Y/n barely had a second to breathe. The steady stream of customers buying snacks, drinks, and merch was unlike anything she’d seen in months.

But the real showstopper was Haechan’s impromptu comedy routine.

“Alright, alright, here’s one,” he said, gripping the mic like he was headlining a Netflix special. “Why don’t convenience stores ever get robbed?”

The crowd leaned in, groaning in anticipation.

“Because they’re always under surveillance!”

A mix of groans, laughter, and a loud “BOOO!” followed, but Haechan basked in it all, unfazed.

Y/n shook her head, fighting back a laugh. He was insufferable, but his energy was infectious.

By the end of the night, the store was a mess—empty snack wrappers, crumpled trivia sheets, and stray markers scattered everywhere. But the cash register was bursting, and Y/n could barely believe the numbers.

“We actually did it,” she said, still holding the final tally in her hands.

“No,” Haechan said, leaning casually on the counter, his sequined jacket catching the light. “You did it. I just added a little sparkle.”

She looked at him, exhaustion giving way to genuine gratitude. “Thanks, Haechan. For everything.”

“Anytime,” he said, his voice softer than usual. Then, with a mischievous grin, he added, “Sooo… free snacks for life now, or what?”

“Don’t push it,” she shot back, though the smile stayed on her face. As they started cleaning up, Y/n couldn’t help but feel something she hadn’t in months: hope. Maybe the store wasn’t just surviving anymore. Maybe, just maybe, it was thriving.

And for the first time in a long time, so was she.

prev/next masterlist

angie’s note: haechan's ideas are chaotic... but also iconic

taglist: @thegracerammy @yewshi @haefelt @pjsteroid @kodasity @minkyuncutie @hypneosis @yukisroom97 (let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the final chapter)