#they are probably my current favourite dynamic in the party

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 32

welcome to the thirty-second fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. A Dragon’s Treasure by @wittyy-name

As heir to the kingdom, Lance always thought he knew exactly what life had in store for him. That is, until a dragon kidnaps him at the age of sixteen. Suddenly his life is a lot less parties, lessons, and castles, and a hell of a lot more barren mountains, grumpy dragons, and boredom. From heir to prize, in just one night.

So now he’s stuck living in a cave with an adolescent, grumpy dragon who doesn’t seem to want him there but still won’t let him go. Not to mention his annoying habit of defeating every suitor who tries to come rescue Lance.

As much as he hates to admit it, he’s probably going to be here for a while. So he might as well settle in and get to know this dragon named Keith.

i accidentally lied last week this one is the last one from my rereadables collection. and for good reason!! dragon beauty and the beast tbh. and wittyy-name ALWAYS nails the complicated i-love-you-and-feel-trapped-by-you, complicated relationships kind of thing. and i fckn love it so so much 

2. Needle and Thread by VulpesVulpes713

Based on the prompt "kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing ". Keith tries to fix a tear in his jacket. Lance just wants some attention. The end result? Feelings.

this one is so cute they are so in love u know?? they just like to be around each other. always a fun read. vulpes is very good at klance with a crush on each other regardless of whether they’re already dating lol

3. Plans Are Overrated, Anyway by @chyeahlex16

"Lance, I-" "I know, I know," Lance said as he bustled around his nearly bare bedroom, tossing shirts out of drawers and pictures off of walls into his open suitcase on his bed. "I totally procrastinated till the last minute, just like you said! I don't need to hear the 'I told you so,' a little help packing would be nice!" "Lance-" "I bet you're already packed," he went on, oblivious to his best friend anxiously shifting in his doorway in frustration and anxiety. "Man, I can't wait until we get there-" "Lance! I have something to tell you!" Lance blinked, stilling his movements. He'd never seen his best friend so... guilty and anxious before. His brows pulled together in concern. "What's up, buddy?" "I'm not going to the Garrison with you." ~ In which I project onto Lance about things that I'm currently going through because I need to vent lol

HUNK AND LANCE HUNK AND LANCE HUNK AND LANCE. we do NOT have enough of it in this here fandom, ESPECIALLY prekerb, early relationship, and what a shame! i have always loved this fic’s exploration of their relationship and the ways they had to learn to grow into themselves, the starts and explanations for the way they were when we saw them. i love them

4. With These Hands by @azapofinspiration

Despite all the trouble they'd been through, Hunk figured everything had turned out all right. After all, he and Lance had managed to return to the castle!

Then Hunk sees the bruises and knows that things are not as good as he thought.

bro a-zap has always KILLED early season dynamics and their missing moments series is everything!! ive always needs three hundred percent more context on the mermaid episode and this fic provides not only that but also some excellent hunk & lance moments, with hurt/comfort that isnt imbalanced or infantilizing on either paladin’s part which is a low bar but awesome anyway 

5. Not As Clueless by @azapofinspiration

Pidge had always thought it was strange that despite being quite observant, Lance had completely missed the fact that she was a girl. However, it seems that that wasn’t really the case.

from the same series i just mentioned! lance IS observant, thank you very much, and i loved this take and interpretation. as much as lance does have a tendency to be dense about things, he also tends to be very observant bc hes a walking dichotomy. he notices things but his conclusions are often different than what others would make, and this entire concept is nailed in like 1.5k words

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[timeofjuly]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you so much for the tag @floofanflurr <3 I am always happy to yap about my fics! I'll pop this below the cut 'cause it's kinda long.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Eight under the timeofjuly account, and a few others scattered around other usernames and the anonymous collection.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 124,470 words, which is kinda crazy to look back on since I only started in August of last year.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just Undertale at the moment, but I've written for a few other fandoms in the past.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Resisting the Current

Trick or Heat

Wishbone

Parallel Circuits

And Four Papyri in a Pear Tree

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! Always, though it sometimes takes me a little to get around to it. My favourite thing about writing fanfic is the sense of community that you build, so I love getting to chat about the fic in the comments. I always have a million and one thoughts that didn't make it to the page that I'm desperate to share. I also like to say thank you when people go out of their way to comment, because I really appreciate it. As a reader, I know I get super excited when an author replies to my comments.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm going to go with a few of the RtC 'verse oneshots for this. I think Resolutions from Parallel Circuits ends on a pretty angsty note, particularly compared to the seemingly upbeat start. From Silver String, there will be no answer is pretty bleak and so is on my way home. I'm quite proud of how they both end, actually - I think they're my two strongest endings in the lot.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Any of the smut, probably? They're all set in happy established relationships and end on a cutesy note.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not for a very long time, no! I remember, many many years ago, posting my very first fic on fanfic.net lol and getting a very nasty review about how the reader didn't know the main pairing in the fic was m/m (slash back then, what a blast from the past) even though it was very clearly indicated in the summary and the AN at the start. It goes to show people have been bad at curating their own reading experiences by minding the tags and summaries since forever.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep! Mostly established relationship stuff under this username so far.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I'm not super into cross-universe crossovers, but, same as @floofanflurr, I really like playing around with cross fic crossovers. I'm (slowly) writing a crack dialogue-only oneshot where the reader inserts of Wishbone and RtC are stuck together in a broken elevator lol. It's been a fun challenge! It's very very hard to put two characters who are normally referred to in the second person in the same scene, lemme tell you, which is why I ended up choosing to go dialogue only.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not, but I'd be open to it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nothing that I've posted! @marty-parties and I have been messing around with an underfell papyrus/reader fic, though! I also used to rp all the time, which I'd count as cowriting. I miss it very much, even though I used to get super easily overwhelmed by it.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

This is such a tough question. I'll pretty much read anything if I vibe with the ship dynamics (pining and unrequited love my beloved, I will read you anywhere no matter the ship or fandom), but I went through my bookmarks to actually get the stats on this. I used to be super into the mcu (I completely lost interest after endgame) so tony/steve and tony/steve/bucky were the most common ships. I have no clue what my favourite ship would be now, though.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Never say never, but I really want to write this horrortale isekai fic I've had bouncing around in my brain. I've fully plotted it out and it's set to only be five chapters, but I'm really struggling to actually write the thing. I have started it, though, so we'll see.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterisation, I think. And even though I mostly gravitate towards writing angsty stuff, I think humour and comedic timing is a strength of mine too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Physical description and settings, 100%. I don't really picture anything in my head when I write, which means all that physical description doesn't make its way onto the page, and when it does, I'm just going off vibes. Particularly with setting - I have zero idea what the locations in any of my fics look like lol. Like, the house in RtC? No clue. Zero.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Really cool! I love it when people do this and I get to translate it, it's like a nice surprise.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, I think? It's all scrubbed from the internet now though.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Wishbone. I am so attached to the Second Mage and Sans and Rus, you have no idea. Particularly Flint, I just adore them. Don't get me wrong, I love the electrician and Quinn and all of my ocs, but I have a special place in my heart for reader inserts who are nasty and hurting and lash out and aren't always the kind, considerate, emotionally stable person in the relationship, forever supporting others. I read something years ago that said to consider how your character is inclined to react to things, both good and bad, and how for lots of people, it's not in our nature to instinctively respond to things with kindness and openness. In fiction, we often expect our POV characters to deal with situations with emotional maturity that we ourselves, along with the majority of irl people, don't have. I think this rings true even more for reader inserts. It's fun to flip this on its head in Wishbone - what if instead of acting with an uncommon kindness, you do the opposite? You get to be flawed. You get to have the murky motives. You get to hurt and in turn you hurt others, and that hurting has real consequences on you and the people around you. This is also a great way to create angst lol - in the non-fell version of Wishbone, where everyone is generally just less of an asshole and therefore makes kinder choices, a lot of the events in the fic just wouldn't happen.

No pressure tag to @covfefeships and anyone else who'd like to do this!

[winterinhimring]

1, 5, and 6 for the latest ask game

Thanks for sending this!

1: Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

The current project that's most consistently under construction is The Right Question, a fix-it for The Amazing Spider-man 2 (NOT something I ever expected to write fic for) which could very well be subtitled "Gwen Stacy and Aunt May Fix Everything (Harry Helps A Bit)". It's making pretty good progress and most of the main conflict has already been solved, so really what's left now is cleaning up loose ends and revelling in the fix-it a bit before I wrap things up. I think what I love most about it is the dynamic that's developing between Harry, Peter, and Gwen. Harry and Peter have spent most of the fic trying to express friendship for each other by mutually going 'I will sacrifice myself for you. Let me sacrifice myself for you PLEASE. I AM GOING TO JUMP IN FRONT OF THIS BOLT OF LIGHTNING FOR YOU DON'T YOU DARE TACKLE ME OUT OF THE WAY WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE SAVING ME I AM SUPPOSED TO BE SAVING YOU'. Gwen, meanwhile, has the brain cell, and has spent most of the fic trying to get them to actually TALK about all the things they sorely need to talk about, but crises keep happening and the boys keep running off into the blue before she can sit them down and sort them out properly. It honestly cracks me up laughing.

I'm also planning to add another arc to A Lot Can Happen In Twenty Years, a collection of short stories set after my rewrite of Spider-man: No Way Home in A Far, Far Better Thing (a series that started life as 'let's fix the post-Endgame MCU' and ended up spanning the entire live-action Spider-man multiverse). So far, entries to that have included lots of Osborn family bonding and a Raimi-verse edition of Electro; the next arc, if I ever actually write it, will be about the Raimi-verse Vulture, whose existence I've teased in previous fics, but who has never actually shown up on screen. So far, it's just in the planning stage, because I'm trying to get The Right Question written before I start it. However, I can already tell that it's going to be chock full of father-son feels and bonding between Norman and Harry, which is one of my favourite things, so I'm really looking forward to when it's written. (I don't want to have to WRITE it but alas, such is life.)

Finally, there is my oldest and least consistently worked-on project, aka That Pesky Original Novel, aka The Finding. It's about a pair of college students who stumble across what I can probably most easily describe as a magical artifact (though magic is really a bit of a misnomer for the way I've set up this world, and in-universe everyone would insist, correctly, that it's NOT magic), find themselves in the sights of quite a lot of interested parties, and have to figure out who to trust and what to do. It has been nominally in the process of being rewritten ever since I first drafted it in high school, but it has actually made some progress lately. It might get finished this year or it might take me another decade; who knows?

5: What character that you're writing do you most identify with?

This is a tough one! I tend to write characters that are similar to me in some crucial ways (I don't think I've ever written someone who's naturally open with their emotions, because that is simply baffling to me on a fundamental psychological level), but very different in others. It's not quite a case of opposites attract, but it's pretty rare for me to look at a character I write and strongly identify with him or her. I can find bits or pieces of myself in most of the characters I write (my sense of morality in Peter, my determination in Gwen, my dislike of emotional vulnerability in Norman, my snark in just about everyone, etc.), but I don't see my whole self in any of them.

6: What character do you have the most fun writing?

It depends on a lot of things! Right now, though, probably Harry Osborn, because he's (a) ridiculously dramatic and can always be relied upon to take a plot in new and interesting (by which I mean supremely angsty) directions, and (b) SUCH a snarky little dude who WILL unleash it on anyone he considers deserving at the slightest provocation. He considers quite a lot of people deserving and I love writing snark, so it's a writer and character partnership made in heaven.

Thank you for sending this question! I had lots of fun answering it.

Ask game is here.

[verdantglow]

asking you some easier questions. (or hopefully)

who's your favourite troll or troll pairing to write/think about?

also whats pearly up to in this au?

(also to be abundantly clear its still me, your loyal asker, ive just changed my username, i have not abandoned you i promise)

The Mummbo-Griann-Scar combo/group is probably the one I think about the most, though I also have a lot of love for my other disaster trio, Cleaoh-Eethos-Bedubs. Which is funny because I’m not a huge Clethubs person generally (nothing against it! I don’t think poorly of it or anything, I actually like it, it’s just not Ver-bait.). But there’s something about these two blue bloods that everyone finds scary & their blustering but generally amicable bronze blood quadrant mate, & the fact that if you dare touch their low blood, they will completely fuck you up. (They consider themselves in a stable 3-way auspistism, but, because this an AU made by my queer ass self, they tend to drift around the quadrants a bit. Nothing as…. Intense as Scar & Griann, but sometimes one of them will be feeling pale or flushed towards another & they just roll with it like it’s nbd. & occasionally, Bedubs lets Eethos & Cleo drift a bit more pitch. You know. As a treat.)

Relatedly, I personally subscribe to the thought that an auspistism can be either two or three trolls: you’ve got dynamic auspistices, where they generally act as this meme for each other

& then there’s stable auspistisms, where one party is consistently auspistizing for two others. I can’t back this up at all with Homestuck canon, but it was a fairly common head canon for a bit back in the day & I like it so in the AU it goes!

Anyway, back to the question. It’s really funny, because I’m sooooo hype for so many of the characters & spend so much time thinking about all of them, but I just keep drawing Eethos instead of any of the many other trolls I still need to make art for. I think it’s because his cartoon moose antlers delight me so. (Also there’s just something about characters with pale/white hair that gets me every time. Every single ship I’ve ever been properly feral for has included at least one pale haired dude & I still cannot figure out why. Also they all have red eyes. Fuck.) (Note: I’m not including Scarian in that because while I am devoted to Scarian, it’s not like how I am over SmallEtho. I am unhinged about those two lol.) (Nevermind, my fiancé just pointed out that my first ever ship— Zutara—didn’t include a pale haired dude with red eyes, just every single one since then.)

Okay, so Pearle. From what I’ve got figured out, she starts out on the same ship as Scohtt, Jimmie, Martyn, & Wrehnn, as she & Scohtt are moirails at that point. Post-Double Life, Pearle ends up a bit sour about how Scohtt acted towards her, & winds up deciding to spend some time on another ship. For a while she hangs out with Bigbee on his tiny transport ship, but it is, you know, tiny, so Bigbee introduces her to Gem, a defected Alternian military officer who is currently wandering space doing piracy. Pearle & Gem hit it off & Pearle joins Gem on her (slightly) larger ship.

After Limited Life, they both move on to the Tangoh-Impuls-Skizzl ship for a variety of reasons. For one, they want to be more connected to Pearle, & eventually Gem’s, VLARP friends & honestly the crew of that ship has the least amount of nonsense happening out of anyone. But also, Gem’s ship doesn’t have the speed that Impuls can make happen, & the Alternian military isn’t taking too kindly to Shiny Duo’s piracy & connections to the resistance. So, when Gem’s ship gets burned (as in it is no longer capable of going undetected), it’s the last straw pushing them to join up with another group. As of post-Secret Life, the five of them are all still living harmoniously on the ship together, though they sometimes have additional guests (mostly Jimmie but Bedubs as well).

As for what Pearle is doing outside of where she lives, crime, mostly. She helps Gem with piracy for a while & once they properly join the resistance, Pearle runs a lot of operations type stuff.

A fun fact about Pearle: She is actually also a mutant like Griann, though hers presents as moth wings she keeps hidden & secret.

[rainydayscore]

something about tsukimichi always makes me feel like i probably should be enjoying it somewhere around as like a strong 7/10, but i enjoy it much more than that, it may be my favourite ongoing manga currently

i can't really put it into words.

lately it's had me thinking about how since a lot of isekai or otherwise fantasy stories, being so derived from and inspired by both tabletop rpgs and video game rpgs, often stick too strictly to "party" dynamics, giving characters little room to operate indepedently or have their own agendas. ones that combine harem anime aspects can be even worse in this regard

tsukimichi is really strong in regards to character agency, its still a party and borderline harem story, but the characters in the main "party" split up and spend significant time alone in seperate locations, they pursue their own agendas, and even if that agenda is to support the main character in their love for him, they do so secretly, without his knowledge or approval, because they know he would disagree with their actions.

it sounds so simple and like such a low bar to have, but it's just really making me value it and think about it more in storytelling

[burgiethewriter]

Asks for a Fic Writer! 🔆

Tumblr really didn't want to show me this, the fiend, but I was tagged by @randomsquirrel (thank you!)

How many works do you have on ao3?

Oh only about 1,365 (6 if I remember to post another tonight)

2. What's your total ao3 wordcount?

2,676,845 I am very mentally well thank you for asking

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Whatever ones the brainworms are currently wiggling in. So currently it's ffxiv and ffxvi and a little dash of sso

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Breakfast NSFW Stranger Things steddie. Which is actually the sequel to the second most kudosed one but I guess we're all sluts for domesticity.

Monster in the Bed more NSFW Stranger Things steddie. The lines of kudos emails I got from those two were fantastic.

Sunny-weather Snuggles and now for something COMPLETELY different, SFW mlp appledash. I used to have this little tradition, I suppose, of starting a new '30 day otp challenge' for every ship I liked. Don't think I ever finished one though.

Garden Party which is another SFW mlp fic but this time rarijack (I love their dynamic).

Odd Tattoo NSFW wtnv cecilos, god knows why I gave it the mature rating. I actually had this on ff.net initially, it's THAT old. But wtnv is just that popular I guess (for good reason! Night Vale my beloved).

5. do you respond to comments?

I do now after sitting there making flustered noises for a good ten minutes.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Funny thing about me, I never remember my fics. Ever. Legit I surprised myself one day discovering a stash of estimeric fics that I just. Don't remember writing. I feel like there was one though. It could be Frozen Wasteland SFW ffxiv which is about the bloody banquet at the end of arr which. Yeah. The saddest part is that I never went anywhere with it because then I started sb and met Lyse and um. Yeah.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Starlight Kittens sfw ffxiv Lyseka I think. There are probably happier endings but that's the one that immediately springs to mind.

8. do you get hate on fics?

Sometimes there are weird 'this is so cringe wtf' comments but hey it's not my fault if they don't embrace the cringe.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I was called sin mother for a time for a REASON okay. All kinds, vanilla, kink, monster, you name it. Very much into a/b/o and monsterfucking but I keep overthinking it and that kills the mood so fast.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

[hides the ffxiv/ffxvi one under the bed] I mean yeah. Craziest one was probablyyyyy the Gotham x SSO one. I can't remember what happened but I remember the crossover.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge but it's not like I go looking. Wouldn't surprise me if someone had stolen an sso one though, some of those kids man...

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Again not to my knowledge but I also know that ffxvi is very popular in other languages so honestly I'm waiting for it.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

I swear to god I have but I can't find it (unless Jack posted it??? It was years ago though) but I suppose the Wild West AU also counts? Green-eyed Drake's Revenge was the last one (god I miss that era so fucking much I met some of the best people but also the worst but I just really loved being a part of such a big project).

14. what's your all-time favourite ship?

The answer probably would've been easier before I played ffxvi but uhhhh yeah it's Terence/Dion from FFXVI. Which you wouldn't know from my fics for that fandom (I keep getting distracted by other ships) but like. Canon gays. Hello. How can I resist. Ship that makes me go 'eeee' and then think about for a while after I see it.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Haha what unfinished WIPs I don't have those scattered everywhere. I would like to actually finish Frozen Wasteland (linked above) someday but there's also a phoenixflareknight fic that I'm slowly pecking away at but it has no real plot or anything so I don't think I'll finish that. And the aforementioned ffxiv/ffxvi crossover.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Making anything look good, baby. Or so I've been told. Sheer determination? Dialogue maybe?

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

"And where is all of this action taking place?" Shrug emoji. Descriptions.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I think it's fine as long as there's a translation somewhere.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Sonic. I don't think I published any of them though. It's probably better that way.

20. favourite fic you've written?

There are a few that spring to mind but I associate them with an ex-friend so ew but Lost and Found is the ffxiv/ffxvi crossover fic I do have published where I put my character and her sister and the arr-era Scions into the world of ffxvi. I love it and wish it got more attention but maybe the time's just not right yet, idk.

I tag @tiredassmage @trusted-friend-ffxiv and @sso-eden-dawnvalley

[lispenardst]

11 and 16 for ft asks?

11. What era did you like the most and why (50s, 60s, 70s, 80s)?

Honestly Matt said it best - I love them all for different reasons. So I’m going to hijack this question and talk about them all lol

I love the complexities of the 50s, and how they directly inform the dynamics of Hawk and Tim’s relationship. To see how government sanctioned discrimination destroyed the lives of so many ordinary people was harrowing, but also felt very relevant to the current political landscape both in the US and back home in the UK. As the saying goes, we have to observe and remember history or we’ll be doomed to repeat it

The 60s I loved for the deeper exploration into the inner conflict Tim faces between his love and desire for Hawk and his commitment to his faith. As a queer person who is also an Irish (lapsed) Catholic, there was so much to unpack here. To see Catholic guilt be portrayed on screen in the way that JB managed was so cathartic for me

The 70s I loved for the pure hedonism and expression of sexuality that had been impossible up to this point. Don’t get me wrong, it was a devastating episode, but that sequence of Tim and Hawk drinking and doing lines/pills and partying together made it all worth it. Let’s be honest by this point they’d been to hell and back, they deserved to finally let loose together!

But if I had to choose one decade to be my favourite, it would have to be the 80s. It’s that true, unconditional, unwavering love: despite all the decades of baggage and hurt between them, love endures.

16. If you could give the show an alternative ending, what would happen in your version?

Honestly the ending was perfect, so given the choice I wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe contrary to popular opinion, but I don’t think an “I love you” was in any way necessary.

But, if I HAD to alter the ending, I guess I’d have Hawk stay with Tim until the end. It would be a terrible move and would probably send Hawk spiralling into Fire Island breakdown 2.0, but to get to see a couple more tender moments between the two would soothe my sad achy heart somewhat.

No actually I hate that, it would be too painful and would be detrimental to Hawk’s growth as a character. Terrible idea lol. I’d keep the ending exactly the same, but would include a scene for my second headcanon (see the ask below for that)

[icebluecyanide]

All the party having heart to hearts with each other in ep 152 had me welling up 😭😭

Zolf telling Azu you can’t save everyone but you have to keep trying!! Azu saying she didn’t like to be separated from Hamid and Hamid telling her Sasha and Grizzop being left behind wasn’t her fault!! Cel talking to Zolf and Hamid about how they feel they could’ve done something sooner!! Saying Hamid has a big heart!! i love them all so much 😭😭

[acidwidow]

BITTERSWEET III

A/N - this is the longest chapter i’ve written so far, I hope you guys like it!! Sorry it’s a little late i’ve been reading too much and not writing enough! please let me know what you think <3

Summary - After a bad breakup you’re forced to move in with your brother Steve at the avengers compound, will old relationships rekindle the fire in you that was once lost?

Your palms begin to sweat at the thought of meeting the rest of the team, your mind begins to race at all the possibilities. What if they’re underwhelmed after all the nice things Steve has told them about you?

You turn to Steve, smiling at him from over your shoulder.

“So, Natasha single?” You question, raising an eyebrow at him in hopes to distract yourself from the nervous butterflies gathering in your chest.

“As far as I know, but you might have to fight to the death with Buck over her.”

You giggle and pick up pace as he positions himself in front of you to open the door to the living area of the compound.

All heads snap towards you as you half hide behind Steve, his huge frame hiding you from the teams stares piercing your very soul.

“Hey,” You smile, giving a wave as you step out from behind Steve, nodding towards Natasha cheekily in a surge of confidence.

You’re an extrovert, people pleaser some would say. Very similar to Steve, but in this very moment you feel minuscule compared to the people occupying this very room.

“You’re prettier than Bucky described, didn’t know that was possible.”

You blushed and rested your forehead against Steve’s bicep in an attempt to hide from Natasha’s compliment, your tiny rice-grain amount of confidence instantly slipping through your fingers quicker than she could even finish the sentence.

Steve chuckles and wraps an arm around you, guiding you towards the couch to sit in between Bucky and Sam.

“So, ya talk about me huh?” You nudge Bucky, mischief glimmering in your eyes. Teasing Buck was quite literally your favourite past time, especially right now when he nudges you harder back, scoffing when Nat chuckles, the embarrassment on his face evident.

“Right Cinderella, to celebrate your arrival, we will be holding an amazing party, get your best dress on!” Tony winks at you, throwing back another (what you assume is) whisky.

“I can’t wait, honestly it’s been 3 days since I last went to a party and I feel all life draining from my body.”

“I like you, I can already tell you’ll be fun to have around, especially compared to Capsicle over there.”

You let out a laugh, looking over at Steve as he glares at the other man from across the room.

“If looks could kill you’d be a dead man Stark.” Sam chuckles.

You can already tell the dynamic and banter between the team will be easy for you to fit into, your nerves feeling slightly more pointless.

“If you don’t have anything feel free to come up to my room and rummage through my wardrobe.”

“Don’t worry Nat, I’ve heard all about Stark parties, I came well prepared.”

—————————————————

You slipped into the sleek emerald green cocktail dress, a gift from your mom on your 20th birthday with matching earrings.

Doing some last minute checks before you leave the room, you quickly eye yourself in the mirror, taking in your appearance. The makeup and short dress compensating for the heaviness currently weighing on your chest.

You’re not THAT much of a mess right? At least you clean up well.

The skirt stopping just less than mid way up your thigh, giving just a peak of the snake tattoo running up your hip. Quickly tracing it with your pointer finger, almost like you forgot it was still there.

This could be good for you, mingling with new people in a new city is probably just what you need.

Excitement bubbling, you make your way towards the door. You couldn’t be too early since that would make you look lame, so fashionably late it is.

A gasp leaves your lips as you walk directly into another person, grabbing onto their arm to balance yourself.

“Wanda! You scared me!”

“You almost knocked me out,” she chuckles, helping you stand up straight.

“I’m so sorry, you heading up to the party now too?”

“Sure am, wanna go together?” She offers, holding out an arm to you.

You link arms, smiling at the slightly taller lady, admiring her features.

“You look stunning by the way,” You state as you walk into the elevator, watching her push the button to the right floor.

“Thank you, but trust me you’re gonna be the prettiest lady there, I’m sure the boys will be fighting over you tonight.” She winks, making your heart flutter at the compliment.

Your expectations are blown out of the water when the elevator doors open and you see hundreds of people dancing and chatting around the gigantic room, the lights beaming off of every surface.

“Holy shit.”

“I know, his parties never disappoint.” Wanda laughs at your expression, following your eye line as you spot Bucky standing by the bar, leaning over to talk to one of the bartenders.

“Got your eyes on someone already?”

You shake your head, eyes scanning the room for Steve. You spot him and separate your arm from Wanda, giving her a nod before you make your way over to your brother, sneaking up behind him.

“You ready to get white girl wasted?”

He laughs at you, shaking his head. “Ya know, mom sent you here for me to help you stop drinking and keep you responsible.”

Rolling your eyes you groan at him, seriously, could he be any more of a party pooper?

He gives you the look, the ‘Don’t do anything stupid’ look, making you scoff at him. Did he really think you were gonna embarrass yourself on the first night being around THE Avengers?

“That sounds great Steve but you should have thought about that before inviting me to one of Tony’s parties, that open bar is looking reaaaaal good right now,” You wave to him over your shoulder as you start making your way over to Bucky.

“Steve not being good company?”

“He was about to give me ‘the talk’ I had to escape while I still can.” You murmur, using air quotes for extra emphasis, slipping into the stool next to him.

“Can I get a Mojito for the lady, extra strong”

Your heart flutters at the thought of him remembering your go-to cocktail. It had only been mentioned in passing a couple times at best and he remembered.

You smile and eye her name tag as you graciously take the cocktail.

“Thank you, Anna.” You wink, throwing back the cocktail and placing it back onto the bar.

“Maybe Steve’s right, take it easy tonight.”

“Ugh, don’t you start too, the nights still young.” You whisper the last part into his ear, resting your hand on his chest and using it as leverage to push yourself off of the bar stool.

As you’re making your way to the dance floor an arm reaches out and spins you around.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone? You should be dancing by now,” Nat smirks at you, tugging your further into the middle of the room.

“Was waiting for you to find me,” You joked, swaying your hips in time to the music. Eyes fluttering as the song fills your ears.

When it comes to me and you girl our time is priceless

There's no need for hesitation when you swipin

I wanna show appreciation so I buy it

Buy it, go try it, girl if you like it

She sings the lyrics to you as your hands meet, bodies in sync as you dance between the sweaty bodies that occupy the dance floor.

The flashing lights and warm buzz of the alcohol giving you exactly what you needed.

Another half an hour of dancing, giggles and almost tripping over your two left feet, you feel alive again.

The red head taps your shoulder, pointing towards the bar with her head, suggesting more drinks.

You grab her hand and taking the lead as your focus goes on the bartender serving Sam and Clint.

“8 shots of your strongest spirit.”

“Damn you really are a party animal, I see you and Natasha are getting on well, it’s quite the sight.” Sam raises an eyebrow suggestively, glancing towards Nat as she leans over the bar, flirting with the same bartender you had earlier as she pours up your shots.

“Well I’m here for a good time not a long time.” You joke, ignoring the comment about you and Nat.

She’s stunning, there’s no denying it. You quite literally cannot believe you’re the one she chose to spend the first half of the night dancing with but you still have your sights on a certain someone. Wanda just didn’t have to know that earlier.

——————————————

Okay, maybe there was a little part of you that is screaming that you should’ve listened to Steve right now.

The staggering towards Bucky really wasn’t the best look, especially in the presence of international superheroes. The room spins as you grab his left arm to support yourself, the cool vibranium cooling your palms.

“You alright there Doll?” He snarks, “Wishing you listened to us yet?”

“I’m not afraid to throw up all over you and you know that Buck.”

He grimaced, asif replaying the memory from 5 years ago in his head.

You trip over a tree stump, cursing under your breath and gripping you small bag and heels tighter, attempting to balance yourself.

Partying on a school night was already one of your biggest regrets, second to standing outside the Barnes household, gathering small pebbles to throw at your brothers friends bedroom window.

What felt like a lifetime later, you see him move the curtains slightly, sleepiness surrounding his soft features.

He raises the window when his eyes spot you standing semi under the sycamore, swaying slightly from side to side.

“It’s 4am on a Tuesday what are you doing??” He whisper shouts, irritation now present on his face from being woken from his slumber.

“Buuuck, I’m drunk and can’t go home, please let me in.” You pout, raising your arms towards him with your best puppy dog eyes.

Him and Steve fall for it every time.

You hear him groan and see him walk away from the bedroom window, the light coming on in his bedroom.

A frown etched on your face when you think he’s gone back to bed without helping. Is he heartless?

“Quick, you have to be quiet.”

Head snapping towards the backdoor as you see Bucky in just a pair of shorts, gesturing for you to walk inside.

He attempts to shush your giggling as he follows you up the stairs, hands on your hips in an attempt to support you in your state.

You grab onto his dresser and turn to face him. “I feel really sick right now.”

“Y/N, do not throw up in my room.”

About half a second passes before you begin projectile vomiting, most of it hitting his lower body.

He begins to retch, hand over his stomach as he realises how disgusting this is.

“You are so fucking lucky I love you.”

“That was such a fun night!”

“I think me and you remember that night very very differently.”

“Can I be honest? I’m gonna be honest,” You whisper, “I kinda feel like that right now.”

“Nope! No, I am not reliving that, you are going to bed.”

You whine and throw your head back dramatically, reaching out to rummage through his jeans pocket, hoping to find his phone.

You press the home button and shove the device in his face.

“2am! It’s not even late.”

“Don’t care, i’m responsible for keeping you safe,” He gives you his best stern face, stepping back a step so he’s not in the your current what he likes to call ‘splash zone’. “Shoo.”

“You don’t own me.”

“I do right now.”

A mischievous smirk travelling to your lips, oh you could totally use this to your advantage right now.

“Damn moving in this place made you real kinky huh? What other nasty shit you into these days?”

“Oh my god, I’m not talking to you about this right now.”

“Deal but you let me stay for another hour.” You bargain, suppressing a giggle at the hints of red occupying his perfect cheeks.

“Half an hour.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

Always gotta seal it with a handshake.

——

Taglist

@wtfislifeugh @dreamerglassesgirl @vicmc624

@silentkiller2374

[roonilwazlibimagines]

What are some of your scenarios to fall asleep to? 👀

Ahhhh I’m glad you asked !! Also please feel free to share some of yours they can be specific or vague idc I’m in desperate need

I will be going into heavy detail because I can’t help myself I’m sorry and I will put in both normal ones and Harry Potter ones

Also this is just like one big ramble I’m sorry I got too excited I literally turned into that Tik tok sound where it’s like ‘you’re asking me about my theories? I’ve waited years for someone to ask me about my theories’

Update - I think I’m just going to keep updating this as well when I think of new ones because I keep forgetting some

My most recent one is a royalty one where they’re like royalty but in their really prestigious and royal school they were academic rivals and did not get along and after school they like try to go their separate ways until a couple years later their parents force them into an arranged marriage for like the good of the country or whatever I don’t really care!! You can take it wherever you want from there but in case you were interested in mine he fell for her first and kinda gave up on the enemies thing pretty early on but she still made it clear he wasn’t her favourite person and she despised the situation and there is still constant teasing until she meets his sister or friend or whoever who says that they can’t believe how happy he is with them and she feels so bad because she thinks he deserves better and ends up being much meaner to him because she’s an idiot who can’t express her emotions and he gets angry at her because she’s being super mean after they were just starting to get along and they have a big argument and are forced to talk about their feelings and then I can never decide whether they actually like each other when they get married, I feel like either way is fun

I have a thing for royalty so my other one is literally just princess x stable boy and you can honestly take that wherever you want but I will tell you where I took it for some ✨inspiration✨ so I don’t have my drivers license and get really bad driving anxiety so I self projected and made her terrified of riding horses right (I’m so smart I know) and he is like trying to help her ride the horse and feel comfortable and like obviously they end up in love but I created drama because she sneaks out to his birthday party (!!) but his friends don’t like her because they just think she’ll be a snob but he obviously defends her but like it’s a perfect opportunity for a bit of an innocent princess as well

My personal favourite is the two co stars falling in love and like thinking about doing all those stupid interviews from like buzzfeed and all that and I personally love the trying foods from different places thing (like making them try fairy bread - because I’m from Australia and we aren’t that cultured and being mad when they don’t like it because it is my favourite food) and it’s great because i can make the guy any actor I am currently obsessed with 😭 but also like the red carpet opportunities and interviews and fan reactions and it’s very fun also this keeps my brain very busy because I like making it as realistic as possible and figuring out the actors timeline so I can match the story up with it, it’s always really intense, also if you want inspiration for what moving they’re staring in I always go for the live action version of tangled even if I don’t look anything like rapunzel

Another fun one is where one of them is in a band and you have a friend who is dating one of the other members but you don’t like the band and you’re not shy in letting the other members know that and it turns into an enemies to lovers thing but I haven’t really developed it because halfway through I ended up changing it with the fact that they befriend one of the members and like fall for them but the band member like ‘gets around’ and it makes them jealous until they drunkingly confess it made them jealous this one’s a bit of a mess and is tipping into a 2012 wattpad story but it was how I got back into my 5sos phase two years ago because I felt icky about them but I’m still a slut for Calum 😭

Another one I love is moving abroad to study or whatever (idk I just always need a reason to be in America/Uk because there’s no one here in australia) and you make friends with someone who turns out to be related to someone really famous (insert whoever you want) and you meet them and you think they’re the hottest person you’ve ever seen and you get drunk to gain confidence to talk to them and you’re like unashamedly flirting with them and they think it’s cute and you’re funny but the whole little plot twist is that you don’t know they’re famous (famous people love that, trust me, I have about 10 wattpad stories in my library that can prove this) !! And the don’t believe you don’t know they’re famous !! Anyways I took it in a sugar daddy direction but each to their own!

Specifically for Harry Potter though, you ask?

Currently I am obsessed with Regulus Black and for about the past two weeks I’ve been obsessed with the idea of James potter sibling x regulus black enemies to lovers story and then about a week ago I found an actually good wattpad story about it?!?! (I have recommended it here with warnings but I really encourage you to read it if you’re not a minor) but you can also do your own version because I am still doing my own version and will continue to do my own version tonight even if I am obsessed with the wattpad one !! Currently I am up to post Hogwarts and her and regulus are trying to defeat Voldemort and regulus tells her that Peter is going to betray James and so ofc she tells James but James is like ‘how to do you even know this??’ And he is so afraid and gets angry at her and it’s really dramatic and she tells him she’s dating regulus and then he gets super mad at her because she’s dating like one of the most well known and loyal death eaters (even if regulus is sneakily trying to destroy Voldemort) and because he didn’t tell her and it’s very dramatic

My favourite Sirius black idea is also a James potters sibling one, but I never have any good ideas for it and just end up self projecting so if anyone has any ideas, I am begging you, please tell me !!!

My other Sirius black one is one I’ve been working on for like the last 4 years of my life and I probably should write it but who knows, but basically it’s a 10 things I hate about you x Harry Potter story where reader is about a year or so older than the marauders and she is like Kat Stratford (for people who haven’t watched it the best way to describe her is just an angry early 2000s feminist who is like anti dating and fun (kinda)) but she is Lily Evans sister!! And so Lily gets fed up of James constantly asking her out and makes an offhand comment that she’ll date him when her sister goes on a date with someone and James is like really?!? And Lily is like ‘sure’ because she knows her sister will never date anyone at Hogwarts so James tells the marauders and Remus is like ‘if anyone can take her on a date, it’s Sirius’ and Sirius is like ‘no, I’m stupid but not that stupid’ and James is like ‘please I’ll pay you’ and Sirius is easily bribed so he tries to get her to go on a date with him and like she doesn’t until she does and then finds out he only did it because James paid him but then they fall in love? Basically just 10 things I hate about you lol

My next one is with Draco Malfoy and all it is is that reader comes from a pure blood family and they’ve known each other since they were babies and it’s like basically destined they get married but she gets like really upset when he gets the mark which makes for a good cuddling and crying scene and like idk people are probably more creative than me but I just like reimagining scenes from hp but with this new character so like Poa when she gets angry at him about buckbeak or the bathroom scene (maybe she duels Harry?) and she’s so upset about Draco and comforts him, or helping him in sixth year and comforting him or the quidditch scene in the fifth book (weird note, but I’ve always headcannoned that my original character finds out about dumbledores army but doesn’t say anything and like the da knows she knows but she doesn’t tell Draco or maybe Draco finds out and gets angry at her?)

My other one is another Draco malfoy one where James and Lily live and she’s Harry’s younger sister (and Voldemort isn’t a thing) but like there’s still stereotypes and beliefs and such and like it’s obviously enemies to lovers and maybe they get prefect duties together ? (I am a sucker for this trope in Harry Potter) but then when they do date they try to hide it but Harry finds out but doesn’t say anything until they get into a fight at home and he is like ‘well at least I’m not fucking Draco malfoy behind everyone’s back) (in my head they aren’t fucking because they’re still in Hogwarts but you get the idea) and James and Lily are just like ‘WHAT?!’ Like idk I just think it’s funny imagining James and Lily finding out their kid is dating Draco and Lucius and narcissus finding out Draco is dating a potter - so many possibilities!

Update 6.10.21

I also have one for Charlie Weasley !! And basically you’re friends with the twins and like you go your whole Hogwarts life with the biggest crush on Charlie but like he low key doesn’t even know who you are and you want to become a healer and then after Hogwarts there is a position in Romania and you take it because you know Charlie’s there and at first he is like hmmm I think I know you and you explain you’re friends with the twins and obviously he falls in love with you I also took it in a nsfw direction where it’s like major innocence kink because Charlie is just such a dom to me and he like teaches you everything but he makes sure you’re happy and safe and it’s not really like serious sex you’re both just having fun and he kinda introduces you to dom/sub dynamics but you can do whatever is most comfortable

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (ii)

word count: 3.3k

warnings: fem!oc, alcohol consumption, cursing

series masterpost: here

a/n: part two baby! thanks for all the love on part one, it means the absolute world. i have so much love for this story and i hope people are enjoying it :))

Life is settling into a comfortable rhythm.

After spending a good chunk of her young adult life being incredibly studious, Magdalene can finally have the social life of someone in their mid-twenties. Though she’s still spending a fair amount of time by herself in the basements of the University of Denver’s library, Bette convinces her to go out more. Magdalene tries to fight, citing extra work or a good book as an excuse to stay home, but it doesn’t work very often. The pleas of her friend are how Magdalene finds herself currently lounging poolside at Erik Johnson’s house on a Sunday afternoon.

“How’s the new career treating you?” Tyson asks. “I feel like we haven’t seen you in a while.”

Magdalene laughs. “I’ve seen Bette plenty,” she says, “She thinks I won’t take a lunch break unless she shows up.”

“Would you?” the blonde girl questions with a quirked brow.

“Probably not.”

“I rest my case.”

A small crowd gathers around as Magdalene begins to detail the specifics of her job, but she doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as she once would have. In the month or so since graduating school she’s found herself slowly being incorporated into the Avalanche family. It’s almost certainly because Bette and Tyson championed her case, explaining that she doesn’t have much of a support system beyond the two of them, but she doesn’t mind. A few of the guys ask her questions about her work, curious as to why someone would want to spend their life combing through piles of old things. Everyone stays engaged in the conversation until there’s a shout from the kitchen that dinner is ready.

Magdalene shuffles in line behind André, filling her plate with various pasta salads and a hamburger. Once situated with enough food for two meals she returns to the pool deck, sitting on the edge and dipping her toes into the cool water. Bette comes and finds her a minute later and the two of them begin to eat.

She’s still relatively new to the group’s dynamic, but Magdalene can’t help but notice that Ryan is never around. In fact, Magdalene hasn’t seen him since her graduation party. Taking a casual sip of her wine cooler, she asks her friend about the man’s absence.

“Why is Ryan never at these sorts of things?”

Bette shrugs. “Isn’t a huge one for parties. He was supposed to come today, but I guess something came up.”

“I’m not huge on parties,” Magdalene huffs, “But that doesn’t stop you from dragging me to every single one.”

“Unlike you, Gravy gets enough regular social interaction that his absence is permissible. If Tyson and I didn’t take you out you’d talk to your cat more than normal.”

She wants to fight back, but knows it’s pointless. Bette has a point – if it weren’t for her the only people Magdalene would interact with are her boss and her cat. Instead, she grumbles under her breath and changes the subject to the trip Bette is in the middle of planning. It’s coming up in a few weeks, and Magdalene wants to hear a bit more about it before she commits. Despite what she thought about taking time off so close to starting work, it was encouraged by June, but she's refraining from telling Bette that. If it doesn’t sound like she'll enjoy it, Magdalene is banking on being able to use the excuse.

Bette explains that she’s renting a large lake house that is perfect for a relaxing week away from adult responsibilities. The property has kayaks and a hot tub, which pretty much ensures that Magdalene will want to be in attendance. She’ll hold onto that information for a little while longer though, if for no other reason to make Bette squirm a little. At some point Tyson comes to sweep his girlfriend away and leaves Magdalene at the party alone. She makes polite conversation with some other players for a while before heading home herself. Ryan never shows up, despite how much Magdalene hopes he will. At the very least she wants to properly thank him for doing her a favour, though her hoping to see him is much more selfish. He intrigues her and she wants to know more about the tall man with the dazzling smile and a proclivity for wearing all black.

☼☼☼☼

Barn Owl Book Company is filled to the brim when Magdalene approaches the store from the side street it annexes. She should’ve expected it – it’s the first of the month and their newest books are hitting the shelves. However, Magdalene doesn’t exactly have time to wait in line. June gave her only fifteen minutes to run and grab them coffee before they continue the massive task of digitizing a private collection that has just been donated to the university. She estimates it will take almost a month of extended hours to get everything done, and Magdalene believes it. There’s so much to wade through but she knows the end result will be satisfying.

Luckily the café line is fairly short, and Magdalene reaches the counter in a timely manner. “Hey,” she greets the barista warmly, “Could I just grab two medium iced cappuccinos?”

“Anything else?”

“No, that's everything. It’ll be on debit,” she smiles. Magdalene reaches into her backpack to grab her wallet only to find that it’s missing. Shit. The barista has already left to make the drinks, completely unaware that her customer is unable to pay.

Magdalene hears a voice from behind her say, “I’ve got it, don’t worry.” She turns around to find Ryan Graves standing there with a book tucked under his right arm.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she mumbles appreciatively. “I don’t know how my boss would take it if I showed up empty handed.”

Ryan laughs shyly as he pulls his card away from the machine. “I get it, everyone needs a little caffeine this time of year.” The barista comes back with Magdalene’s drinks, which she takes with a smile and a wish for a good day. The two of them head towards the exit, and Ryan pauses once they’re on the sidewalk. “Which way are you headed?”

“Back to work,” Magdalene says, nodding her head in the direction of campus. “I’ve got approximately five minutes to get there before June rips me a new one.”

“June?”

“She’s my boss,” she explains.

Ryan nods in understanding. “I’ll see you around Magdalene,” he smiles, turning on his heel and heading the opposite direction.

In a moment of bravery, Magdalene yells at his retreating figure. “Will you? We never seem to cross paths.”

“I’ll be at Bette and Tyson’s this weekend, and I’m counting on your company.”

Magdalene finds it incredibly hard to focus the rest of the afternoon. She keeps thinking about what Ryan said, which makes her a rather lousy archivist. June sends her home just after seven even though they had plans to stay until ten, citing the fact that she’s scanned the same photo three times before noticing. Caligula’s meowing for pets when she gets home isn’t even enough to distract her from the comment. The absentmindedness continues for another day or so, and it’s becoming so bad Magdalene is worried that June is going to fire her for incompetence.

It’s only when Bette calls to invite her over for dinner and drinks that her mind levels out. “I was wondering when I was going to get the call,” she chuckles absentmindedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” is the response Magdalene receives.

“Well,” she explains, “I ran into Ryan at Barn Owl the other day and he paid for my drinks because I left my wallet on the table at work, and he said he expected to see me at your place this weekend. So if you never invited me I was just going to show up.”

Bette is smiling, that much Magdalene can infer by the lull in conversation. “I haven’t got the time to call you yet,” she concedes, “But consider this the official invitation to our house for a small party.”

“Anything we’re celebrating?”

“Nope. Have you ever needed a reason to party?”

Magdalene laughs. “Yes. Need one almost every time actually.”

The rest of the week passes fairly quickly. To make up for her blundering earlier in the week Magdalene offers to work a full day on Saturday, by herself, to get the project back on track. June accepts the proposition eagerly, and Magdalene lets Bette know she’ll be coming directly from work. Saturday rolls around and she spends most of her time getting lost in the past lives of the artefacts she’s dealing with. If someone were to ask Magdalene what her favourite part of archiving is, that’s the answer she’d give. There’s nothing more satisfying to her than holding a piece of history in her hands and imagining all the stories it would be able to tell if it could speak.

By the time she’s put in a full work day and finishes locking up the basement floor her department occupies, Magdalene is pretty sure they’re ahead of schedule on the project. She genuinely feels terrible about her misperformance and hopes June will be able to forgive her. On the way to Bette and Tyson’s Magdalene listens to the Leonard Cohen greatest hits cd that came with her car. The previous owner was presumably a big fan, and over the years Magdalene has come to appreciate the folk singer. She never got to see him in concert before his death but turns to his music when she needs to relax. Right now is the perfect time to listen to ‘Hallelujah’ on repeat because she’s seriously freaking out about the idea of spending the night talking to Ryan. Though she still wants to properly thank him and possibly become friends, something about him makes Magdalene nervous.

There’s no way for her to tell if Ryan is there when she parks in front of the house. She doesn’t know what kind of car he drives, or if he caught a ride with someone. Magdalene debates texting Bette to see if he’s there already but decides against it, knowing she’s an adult who is more than capable of pushing down nerves.

She doesn’t bother knocking and just steps into the respectably sized home. The music is loud enough that no one would have heard her anyways. It’s much more of a party than Magdalene was expecting – Bette invited her for dinner and drinks, not a gathering that could pass as a frat party. There are bodies everywhere, and she isn’t sure if she’ll ever catch a glimpse of her friend.

“You seem to be dressed for the wrong kind of party,” a voice chuckles from behind her.

Magdalene turns to see Ryan leaning against the wall, eyeing her business casual attire. “I came from work,” she explains, “And didn’t know it was this kind of party to begin with. I would’ve at least brought a change of clothes.”

“You look terribly out of place,” he agrees. “Can I grab you a drink? The hosts are too busy playing beer pong to, you know, be hosts.”

A giggle escapes Magdalene’s lips at the comment. Ryan seems to have a similar sense of humor to her, which will be beneficial for passing the time if Bette is already on her way to being wasted. “A glass of red wine would be nice.”

Ryan pushes off from his perch and heads towards the kitchen. The crowd parts for the six-foot-five hockey player, and Magdalene follows in his wake quite easily. Knowing the space as well as her, Ryan grabs a wine glass from the cupboard Bette keeps them in and pours the dark red liquid into it. He waits until Magdalene has situated herself on the island before handing her the cup. She takes it with an appreciative hum and waits until he’s grabbed a beer for himself before raising her glass in toast. Ryan does the same, and their glasses clink before each of them take a sip.

“What exactly is it that you do? I bet it’s something super cool and studious, but I seriously don’t know what the hell being an archivist means.”

Magdalene explains her job to Ryan, who is extremely interested. He asks nearly a hundred follow-up questions that she answers sincerely, throwing in a few jokes that luckily crack him up. Conversation moves to his career and then life. Magdalene learns that he’s from Nova Scotia, though he stays around Denver these days, and that if he wasn’t playing professional hockey he’d like to have a career in publishing. Ryan doesn’t press too hard when Magdalene refuses to open up about her family, which she appreciates. It’s a delicate subject that she keeps guarded close to her chest, and a friend’s kitchen in the middle of a party isn’t the place for her to divulge her deepest secrets.

The two of them get refills before exiting the room. Even more people seemed to arrive since Magdalene walked through the door, and the kitchen is no longer an empty safe haven. The music is so loud she can feel the bass thumping in her chest, giving the living room a club-like atmosphere, and it’s too much. Magdalene tugs at the hem of Ryan’s sweater to catch his attention. “Want to go somewhere quiet?”

“I doubt there is such a place,” he yells over the crowd going crazy over some early 2000s hip-hop track.

“Follow me,” she says with a smile, pointing over her shoulder in the direction of the staircase to the second floor.

It takes a minute for them to wade through the throngs of people, but it goes much faster once Ryan takes Magdalene’s hand and splits the crowd. A few boys, who don’t look older than twenty-one and almost certainly snuck into the party, notice where the pair are going and shout congratulations. Ryan shoots them a glare so sharp it could cut stone but doesn’t drop Magdalene’s hand. Once safely on the much quieter second floor, Magdalene makes a beeline for the bathroom.

“Are you coming or what?” she asks when there doesn’t seem to be footsteps following her.

Ryan hesitates. “I, uh, can just wait out here while you’re in there,” he stammers.

Magdalene’s laugh rings out through the empty hallway. “I’m not going to the bathroom. We’re going out the window.”

He isn’t sure how that’s any better, but Ryan follows the brown-haired girl into the room. It takes considerably more work for him to fit through the frame, but after some directions from Magdalene he makes it onto the roof. She sits down and pats the space beside her, encouraging Ryan to do the same. They stay out there, discussing anything that comes to their heads, until the party’s numbers dwindle drastically. Magdalene makes sure to properly thank him for both attending her graduation and spotting her coffee money, and she thinks Ryan might blush a little when she offers to get the next round. He asks about her love of The West Wing, and they launch into a long conversation about the show and cast. The sun fades to black and the cold sets in, and Magdalene finds herself wrapped in Ryan’s sweater without asking. It’s only when she notices it’s approaching midnight that Magdalene clues into how tired she is.

“I think I’m going to head out,” she yawns. Ryan nods in agreement and holds the window open for her to slip in through. Once downstairs, Magdalene goes to lift the sweater from her frame but Ryan stops her.

“Keep it for drive home. I’ll get it back next time we see each other.”

Still feeling bold from the alcohol that left her system hours ago, she reaches out to poke him in the chest. “And when will that be, hm? You seem to enjoy leaving our meetings up to chance.”

It’s Ryan’s turn to laugh. “Think you can swing an extended lunch break on Wednesday? I’ll be at Barn Owl all afternoon. Maybe you can join me for a coffee.”

Magdalene likes the sound of that and agrees. She leaves without seeing Bette or Tyson once, but she doesn’t mind. They’d be happy for her blooming friendship – or at least she’s pretty sure they will be once she calls to fill them in on the details.

☼☼☼☼

Wednesday rolls around without incident, and Magdalene is given a full hour to eat instead of thirty minutes. Walking time has to be accounted for, of course, but she should have nearly forty-five minutes to spend with Ryan if she plays her cards right. There’s no crowd this time, and it’s incredibly easy to spot Ryan sitting in the window she loves to claim as her own.

“Hey,” Magdalene greets, “Did Bette tell you to sit here?”

He shakes his head, perplexed at the question. “No, why?”

“It’s just my favourite seat in the store, that’s all. I thought she told you how to gain some extra brownie points.”

“Should I be concerned about the amount of points I have?” Ryan teases, sliding a cup and pastry bag across the table and into her hands.

Magdalene shakes her head, smiling widely. “You’re doing alright so far. Keep up the good work.”

They eat at a comfortable pace, taking breaks to engage in interesting topics of conversation or take sips of their drinks. Ryan insists his life is boring, but Magdalene is enthralled by the stories he tells. It’s completely different from hers and she feels as though she can live vicariously through the tales of walking through the historic downs of the east coast and swimming in the Pacific Ocean on days off in California. After squeezing every story possible from the man Magdalene shifts gears slightly.

“So, are you going on the trip in a couple of weeks?”

“It’s looking that way,” Ryan shrugs with relative indifference, “Nate doesn’t think he’ll be able to come back, something about a development camp he’s running having the dates switched. He’s asked me to take his spot.”

His neutral mood confuses her. When Bette mentioned his probable attendance months ago, it sounded like he was enthusiastic about spending a week with friends doing nothing to swimming and drinking. “You don’t want to go?” Magdalene probes.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but sometimes the group parties a little harder than I like to,” he sighs, raising a hand and running it through his hair. That’s something she understands completely, having spent a few too many nights being the sober one out.

“I’ll be there.” It’s Magdalene’s turn to shrug, but the comment holds an incredible amount of hope.

“Well then, that changes everything.”

Was Ryan flirting with her? She spends the rest of lunch thinking about the possibility, and truthfully, it occupies her brain for the rest of the day. However, she keeps her focus and June is none the wiser to the butterflies in her stomach. Work finishes without much fanfare, and her dinner is silent save for the few meows of conversation Caligula offers. It’s late by the time Magdalene falls into bed, cat snuggled into the pillow beside her. On a whim she decides to check Instagram and sees a message request from none other than the man who’s smile has been replaying in her mind. A follow request accompanies it.

Thought that maybe we could quit leaving our meetings to chance and plan something next time :)

He has to be flirting. There’s no other explanation for the witty banter they’ve shared this week, or why he’s reaching out to her on social media. The butterflies in her stomach multiply tenfold as Magdalene types out a reply.

I don’t know, it’s kind of fun being shrouded in mystery. However, I now have the opportunity to stalk your profile ;)

Before she can overthink her use of the emoji, Magdalene shoves her phone in the drawer of her nightstand and rolls over. A slight smile can’t help but appear on her features as she falls asleep, already curious about what his reply will be.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds (add yourself to the taglist!)

[tilliam-w-psears]

what's ur favorite Grelle ship & why?

also how do u imagine modern Grelle? Like her looks, personality, lifestyle, etc

hmmmm i cannot say i have thought of grelle from a shipping perspective often! i think that grelle and madame red’s dynamic was very interesting but i do not think that it was a healthy relationship. big supporter of @retrievaldivision’s helen and aphrodite (of iliad fame) takes and that whole thing they’ve got going on (follow tumblr user retrievaldivision). i’ve been pretty forthcoming on my stance that william t spears and grelle are homies but i don’t think i’d be entirely opposed to that but i’m also very. selective? about ship content so a lot of the existing grelliam content doesn’t jive with me especially with how a lot of people write their dynamic (ie grelle is the victim and has never done anything wrong william t spears is cruel and unfeeling etc etc bc that is simply not true and also william t spears is my friend. did they ever think of that.) this isn’t to say good grelliam content is nonexistent but it’s rare for me personally to find stuff i like. honestly i feel like grelle learning to live like on her own would probably be healthiest for her but that’s just my personal take [points at hermit the frog marina on my grelle playlist]. sebastian and grelle is kind of funny bc they both suck and have tried to kill each other but i’m a known sebagni truther. so ultimately for favourite grelle ship i’m gonna have to go with i truly don’t know chief if you’ve got any recs drop em

as far as modern grelle. i cannot say i have thought about this either. most of my. headcanons. are around like the existing kuro universe or some equally fantastical type fiction (i am actually currently writing an ericalan fic based off of the russian folktale the soldier and death in which alan is death and eric is the soldier and it’s going to be based. thanks) so. but as far as modern universe goes i have thought about like the human +1 gang in which sebastian is an agent for some secret organization or another assigned to ciel’s case (parents dying in massive house fire, etc etc) and is like. also undercover as his adoptive father and they live in richpeoplesuburbsTM. agni and soma are their neighbours (agni is soma’s bodyguard and also takes care of him bc his parents are away often). finny and mey rin rent out the basement (they came with the house). they meet at the midford’s white people barbecue/garden party. anyway. so in this situation the reapers are all staff for the middle/high school (shoutout to @retrievaldivision for helping me come up w this also). grelle is the thotty secretary, william t spears is the counsellor, eric is the gym teacher, alan is the gay history teacher (courtesy of retrievaldivision), othello teaches chemistry, and ron is the IT guy. in this universe, grelle and ron are roomies and rent a shitty apt together. they’re obviously not rich because they work at a highschool so it’s not glamorous or anything but it works. i imagine grelle’s wardrobe consists mainly of pencil skirts and button ups. probably wears heels every day. glasses chain stays ON. personality wise much the same but because i am in control she is not pervy and weird. also she does not commit mass murder. like grelle’s general obnoxiousness is an integral part of her personality so i would like to keep that but have her not make unwanted sexual advances at her coworkers. there is something charming about the characters just being like. regular ass people. so. yeah. that’s my take.

[kotosnoozy]

「fourteen」 chapter 1

"Yuri did confess to me about one crush. First one he ever had, I’d wager, from how nervous he seemed. I had expected it to be Lady Estellise here,” Hanks says, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously as she flusters, “but the one detail he did give me certainly ruled that out quick.” “O-oh?” Estelle stammers. “Mmm, well. Apparently whoever they are, they’re significantly older than him. About 14 years, I think he said.”

On the nature of Yuri's first crush.

He hadn’t thought much of it at first.

Hanks’s fond babbling about Yuri over their extremely well-earned dinner is incredibly revealing about the usually cool-headed leader of their motley crew. The old man proves himself a riveting story-teller, keeping their entire party entertained for hours on end despite the incredibly long and taxing 48 sleepless hours they’ve had.

(‘Though there was almost a permanent sleep in there for some of us,’ Raven finds himself thinking morbidly, before digging his bitten-down nails as deep into his ankles as he can to distract himself)

It feels like the only time any of them stop smiling and laughing is to take another mouthful from their bowls of curry, piled high from the seemingly endless and eternal pots of the stuff in the knight’s mess hall (or in Rita’s case, to test out another formula against the system Alexei’s locked the princess into - luckless so far, but she’s yet to lose determination).

Hanks has provided all sorts of anecdotes: the adventures of a baby Yuri who had just learned to walk, quicker to his feet than Flynn but still only babbling in response to the younger’s full fledged scolding - their dynamic had formed incredibly early on, it seemed; fond recollections of helping him to learn to bind properly, their first real bonding experience that had endeared them to each other as adoptive-grandfather-and-grandson; prideful recounts of Yuri’s development from childhood cynophobia into a renowned dog-lover, of all the other little things Yuri had been scared of as a child and grown out of in time (and those he hadn’t - Raven makes a few mental notes for later reference); all the fights Yuri and Flynn had gotten into over the years, and the brief interlude where they had dated in their teens (‘If anything,’ he laughs, ‘the bickering became even more frequent at that point - thank heavens they didn’t last!’); and of course, everyone’s old favourite - that one time 2 years ago when he’d thrown Adecor into the river on tax day.

Raven’s heard that one on a number of occasions from all four of the people who’d been present when it occurred - it somehow never gets any less funny.

While most of Brave Vesperia and it's honorary members are thrilled to learn more about their favourite rebel, Yuri himself is less than happy about Hanks laying out his life story for everyone to see. It's plain on his face - the grimace of a man who appreciates how much his parents love him but would really prefer they didn't tell his date about the time he streaked naked through the town and peed in a fountain at 5 years old. His embarrassment is palpable, a pink glow to his ears that slowly spreads to his cheeks the longer and more intimate Hanks’ stories become.

It’s as he brings up Yuri’s childhood dream of joining the knights so he could sweep a princess off her feet, pointedly winking in Estelle’s direction, that their so-called fearless leader bolts to his feet. He spins on his heel, making a beeline to the other side of the room, and plonks himself violently between a bewildered Adecor and Boccos, immediately thrown from their confusion into annoyance as Yuri’s food slops all over both of them.

His previous dining companions merely snicker in his wake, Hanks chuckling fondly.

“He’s always been so easily riled, that boy. If this is how flustered he gets over just you lot hearing all this then I can’t even imagine how he’ll be when he finally shacks up with someone.’

“Wait, but didn’t you say he dated Flynn when they were younger?” Karol asks, head cocking to one side.

“Well between you, me and our gatepost friends here,” the old man says, leaning in - they all follow suit, as Hanks’ eyes pointedly glance over to Flynn, “I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings if he hasn’t realised, but I always got the impression that Yuri was far less invested in their relationship than Flynn. It was Flynn who asked him out, after all.”

“My, that does surprise me. Yuri’s always seemed like he’d be the more proactive of the two when it comes to romance.” Judy muses.

Hanks raises his eyebrows, thin lips twisting into an uneasy frown.

“Wait a minute,” Rita says, leaning even further forward. “You’re not saying Yuri never had feelings for him are you?”

He winces, gaze averting. Raven feels his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

“They’ve always loved each other, of course. But the tone of that love seems to differ between them. Their relationship was what happened when they tried to figure that out, it seems, but ultimately…”

“They just weren’t compatible as partners of that type?”

“Right.” he nods to Estelle. “In all honesty, Yuri might give off the air of someone with considerable relationship experience, but it’s Flynn who attracts more attention. And seems more interested in others in turn.”

Raven finds his gaze wandering between the two in question - Flynn has managed to find himself eating amidst a small crowd, knights and lower quarter folks alike, all of them doting on him and telling him stories, and him listening attentively to each of them in turn. Yuri, meanwhile is… wrestling with all three of the ex-Schwann Brigade’s most prominent knights simultaneously. Astounding.

“Yeah that tracks.” he finds himself murmuring, nails scratching through the chest hair that rises above the collar of his shirt. Even if Flynn wasn’t the most eager to please others between the two, the young man radiates a natural charm that draws others to him like a moth to a flame - it’s hard to forget how he was upstaged the time he took him drinking in Dahngrest. Yuri, meanwhile, has a proclivity for trouble and a tendency to stick his foot in his mouth with his wit. While endearing, he can’t imagine it’s the most efficient for pursuing new connections - even if he’s managed to attract all of the motley crew Raven’s currently sat with.

“So Flynn’s a secret ladies’ man and Yuri, despite all the pomp and swagger, has absolutely no game?” Rita snickers, casting a wry look across the room at Yuri that he’s too distracted to notice.

“Well I don’t know about that. Flynn’s a man’s man if nothing else, never shown interest in women to my knowledge. But… I don’t think Yuri’s ever actually been interested in dating , full stop.”

“No way, really?!” Karol barks. The exclamation draws the attention of the groups sat closest to them, even Flynn, momentarily, before they go busily back to their meals. Flynn’s expression as he looks at them is pondering, almost puppy-like, and Karol’s panic is practically visible as they watch him seemingly wrestle with whether to come over and see what the fuss is about. Then the woman at his side taps a hand to his elbow gently, and his manners win out - she successfully steals his attention back around, all of his interest in their discussion completely forgotten.

“Well. It certainly seems that way anyway. I remember him asking me, back when they dated, how he would know if his feelings for someone were romantic. He didn’t seem to understand my answer very well."

“That’s unexpected. I suppose my advances have all been vain!” Patty whines. Raven finds himself snickering - whether Patty’s affections are genuine or not is one mystery he's yet to solve, but her playing it up is never any less entertaining or fun to tease.

“Though now that I think about it… he did confess to me about one crush. First one he ever had, I’d wager, from how nervous he seemed.”

Patty surges forward onto her hands and knees, scrambling to get in Hanks’ face. Surprisingly, he’s not that caught off guard - perhaps used to it from Yuri’s exuberance as a child, or that other kid from the lower quarter who’s off chasing Repede on the far side of the room.

“I need all the details, matey! Don’t spare a single one!”

Hanks chuckles.

“I’m very sorry young lady, but he didn’t tell me all that much! I had expected it to be Lady Estellise here,” he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously as she flusters, “but the one detail he did give me certainly ruled that out quick.”

“O-oh?” Estelle stammers.

“Mmm, well. Apparently whoever they are, they’re significantly older than him. About 14 years, I think he said.”

“My my! That’s quite the considerable age gap.” Judy coos, tone teasing in spite of Yuri’s absence. She turns over to look at him, sitting atop a pile of knights and triumphantly tucking into a second of four bowls (spoils of war, Raven would wager) - they all do, in fact.

“Kid’s got taste at least. Nothin’ quite like the mature allure of an older lady~'' Raven sing-songs, half-joking. Rita jabs him in the side harshly.

“Shut up old man-- you said you thought it was Estelle he had a crush on right? So are you saying this is recent? ”

It’s like a switch flips in all of their heads simultaneously. Faces filled with shock whip to look at Hanks, who sits sheepishly clutching his bowl.

“Whoops. Might’ve let a little too much information slip on that one. I was probably meant to keep that detail private…”

“Oh my go--”

Rita slaps a hand over Karol’s mouth before his shriek draws too many eyes over. They all meet each other's' gaze one by one - Yuri's crushing on someone for the first time ever at this exact moment - before turning to look back at Yuri again. He’s mid-mouthful, spoon clutched in his hand like a shovel and sauce dripping down his chin, as he turns to survey his surroundings and catches their eyes.

“What?” he chokes out around his mouthful, just audible over the bustle of the rest of the room. He must see the sheer shock on their faces, as concern starts to cross his face and his gaze wanders to Hanks. “Wait, what did you tell them, old man?”

Hanks chooses that exact moment to get up, incredibly swiftly for a man his age.

“Well, thank you all for keeping me company, kids, but I must be off to… check on other people in… other parts of the castle. Right. Goodbye.”

The speed at which he heads for the door is quite remarkable - Yuri barely manages to scramble off his knight-pile-cum-throne before he’s gone from sight, and presumably halfway down the corridor before Yuri makes it out of the room after him.

It’s a shock, that much is certain. Raven hadn’t thought Yuri would be interested in older women - or people he supposes, he’s never really shown any inclination to anyone before in a romantic sense, so certainly not any specific gender. He’d never much struck him as the type.

But then he hadn’t struck him as the type to be interested in any type of relationship until this curveball of a conversation had come along. So hey, why not. If Yuri was into older people, he certainly wasn’t intending to torment him about it. Other than maybe one opportunely timed quip.

Honestly, he really hadn’t thought much about it at first.

But then the kids throw their own curveball.

“I can’t believe Yuri likes someone so much older than him!! Like, I guess I get the appeal of someone a little older than you for like… security or something, I dunno. But man, 14 years!!” Karol exclaims, as quietly as he can for his excitement. “I wonder if we know who it is.”

Rita barks a laugh, catching a distracted Patty off-guard. She begins anew whatever calculations she’d been making on her fingers as Rita shrugs exaggeratedly.

“I bet it’s some big-boobed motherly-figure in the lower quarter or something.”

“Well if all he wanted was big boobs and a nurturing personality then I’ve been here this whole time, all he had to do was ask!” Judith sighs, sly smirk giving away her lack of sincerity.

“Hey,” Patty pipes up suddenly, drawing their attention. “Isn’t Raven about 14 years older than Yuri?”

He feels the cogs in his brain whirr to a stop.

Suddenly, he is thinking very much about it.

“Oh yeah!” he hears Karol chirp. No doubt he checks the calculations on his own fingers, but Raven doesn’t register it if so, hard as he’s trying just to think at all. “Haha, that’s a weird coincidence!”

Estelle giggles.

“Imagine if it was Raven he had a thing for!”

He feels their eyes on him instantly, but it takes a moment for his brain to catch up. His own eyes must be wide as saucers, as they look at him, the mirth starting to fall from Estelle’s expression - he forces a ridiculous grin to his face.

“Haha, yeah imagine that! Someone like Yuri fallin’ for a washed up old fart like me!” he cackles, voice strained even to his own ears. “That’d be ridiculous!!”

The kids buy it though, Karol laughing along before pulling the others back into their debate about exactly who the mystery object of Yuri’s affections could be. It’s Estelle whose gaze lingers on him, just a moment or two longer, as the facade starts to crack, but she must see it - the silent plea in his eyes - as she turns back to the others not a moment later.

If anyone notices that Raven is mentally tapped out until they all go their separate ways for the night, then they’re at least polite enough not to mention it.

⇷-------------

Raven is a strange one.

This is Yuri’s third time meeting the man (or fourth, if the time Rita threatened to set him alight in Capua Torim counts as an actual encounter) and in all honesty, it’s hard to get a read on him past him being very obviously shady.

He seems as though he might be someone of consequence, if the quality of information he so casually throws like bones to random guards is actually as quality as he would have them believe. Either way he’s certainly silver-tongued, plying the others in Yuri’s makeshift travelling party into submission fairly easily despite their initial apprehension about him. Karol and Estelle are charmed by him, by his goofy antics if not the lolloping drawl of his accent, though they make no effort to hide the fact that they find him fishy. While Rita is far less taken, she seems to be placated by him taking her punishments, both fire and fists, like a champ.

The charm isn’t exactly visible to the naked eye though. He skulks at the back of the group, heavy footed and posture slouched. His clothes all seem far too big for him, obscuring the shape of his body in a way Yuri supposes is meant to make him seem unassuming, and he’s already displayed a number of habits that he knows would make any upper quarter noble’s toes curl - picking at his ears and the skin around his nails, before chewing at the nails themselves.

He has to admit though, he’s quite handsome in the face beneath the mess of dusty brown hair. Not in the same way as Flynn, with his big blue eyes and tousled blonde hair, the very picture of a storybook knight. His crooked nose, chapped lips, stubbly chin and hollow cheeks certainly make for a more unconventional type of attractive, but they all come together to create a certain appeal. The brightness of his eyes certainly helps too.

Also the combat prowess. Fighting ability is always an attractive quality in Yuri’s opinion, but especially in a travelling companion.

For a self-professed old man, Raven’s far more nimble than Yuri had expected. Sure, he’d made quite the getaway back in Capua Nor after he’d sold them out, but he’d assumed that’d been a one-off desperate sprint, not the norm. Apparently he was wrong, based on the nimble footwork he employs to dart out of the way of a particularly feisty howler. It doesn’t escape his notice how Karol nearly falls flat on his ass when Raven rushes past him and twists himself at an insane angle to fire an arrow across the way, skewering a beetle between its mandibles before it can take a bite out of Estelle.

“Woah, Raven!! Yuri, you’ve got some serious competition for your acrobatics now!!”

The bark of laughter leaves his throat unwittingly.

“I didn’t realise there even was a competition!”

He sees Rita roll her eyes as she releases a torrent of water behind her, clearly disbelieving him and with good reason; he’s never been one to back down from a potential competition. He breaks away from the corner of the forest floor he’s been holding down, using the momentum to propel himself up and over Raven, carrying it into his sword as he flips to crash it down into the skull of another monster. Raven whistles appreciatively as it disappears into dust.

“Not bad, young ‘un!”

He throws a smirk over his shoulder, ego swelling at the genuine awe on Raven’s face.

“How’s about it, old man? First to twenty?”

The awe transforms into a grimace in an instant.

“Ahhh, I dunno about that. Ol’ Raven’s never really been one for competitions, let alone effort. ”

He scoffs.

“Oh, come on. We’ve got no choice but to fight to get deeper into the forest anyway, right? So why not make a game of it? Not like it’ll actually be any more effort than you were already putting in.”

Raven purses his lips, seemingly unconvinced. His eyes narrow slightly as he stares off, deep in thought, the blue-green seemingly increasing in intensity. For all he’s been putting on the act of a court jester, Yuri is certain in that moment that there’s a deep intelligence to the older man; something unspoken, a wisdom beyond his years.

(Not that he knows how old Raven is but. Well, he gets the feeling that while he’s certainly older than he and his travelling companions, he’s not actually pushing middle-aged yet like he makes out)

Fwip!

He comes back to himself to see Raven’s face closer than before, upside down, chin in line with his collarbone. His bow arm (and subsequently the bow itself) is extended past his shoulder, the other loose by his head having just fired. Behind him there’s a thunk. A screech. A pop. And then silence.

“Looks like that’s one ta me~” Raven coos, eyes hooded as he smirks. He rolls his back, lithe and catlike, to stand himself back upright, stretching his arms out until his shoulders crack. For all his complaining about aches and pains so far (extremely numerous for the time they’ve been travelling with him, maybe an hour at most), he certainly doesn’t move as though he has any joint issues.

Despite his shock, he finds himself laughing.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s just as charmed by Raven as the kids are. He’s never made a connection quite like this one; with someone who can go toe to toe with his dry wit, and make it out the other side without being angry with him. Rita had been the closest (since Niren at least, but Yuri prefers to avoid thinking about the only father he ever knew if he can). But while Rita’s great with a back and forth, she’s easily riled, easily flustered. It only takes one slightly wrong jab and she gets stroppy, or else loses all interest in the situation.

Raven, for all his strangeness, has so far matched Yuri every step of the way. They’ve fallen so easily into a steady banter, something of their own personal comedy routine for just the two of them, some form of it present even from their first encounter way back in that jail cell. To have someone who can appreciate his snark, and give it back just as good while they both know it’s all in good fun? He’d never realised just how much he’d appreciate a relationship like that.

So yeah, Raven’s a little suspicious. But as far as Yuri’s concerned, he’s willing to offer him the benefit of the doubt for the strange comfort he gets from their repartee, just so long as he doesn’t do anything too crazy.

He slaps Raven on the shoulder, moving past him to continue deeper into the oversized brush.

“You got me, old man. But don’t you worry, you won’t be holding that lead for long.”

Raven merely cackles in response, wordlessly filing in behind him.

-------------⇸

There’s only one real constant within their travelling party, and that’s that the sleeping arrangements are ever-changing.

It takes a little while for him to notice, though in his defence the first week or so he’s with them is certainly not a typical week. In the more recent days, they’d gotten lucky with inns having enough beds for all of them, but the first few nights had been entirely sleepless in the hustle and bustle of, y’know, stopping a war, taking down the Blood Alliance and colliding with an actual genuine-article ghost ship.

(He’s still not sure what that was all about if he’s being entirely honest, but he’s old and ““wise”” enough by now that he knows there are some things in this world that you simply shouldn’t question)

So it’s Nordopolica where he finds himself bedding down with his new companions for the first time. The constant hustle and bustle of Palestralle’s workers and the fresh colosseum season unfortunately means there isn’t much free in terms of rooms. On the plus side, the three double beds they’re provided are plenty enough space for them all to be able to sleep comfortably; Fomalhaut’s rooms are quite spacious, nothing at all like the army barracks of his youth (though he supposes that should be expected from a city that considers itself something of an entertainment hub).

Raven takes his time ambling in behind everyone else, absently watching how effortlessly Repede transfers his pipe from one side of his toothy maw to the other. Rushing would be pointless, in his opinion, because he can already envision how everyone will double-up. Rita is sure to claim a spot beside the princess, for whose sake she could not be more clearly continuing to travel for despite her protests, and Judy won’t want to get lumped with a snotty (though admittedly quite sweet) brat or some dirty old man she hardly knows - he’s gonna get stuck with the kid, and the two of them can have a very one-sided competition over whose shitty little brain can give them the most nightmares in one night, and Raven will be perfectly content with that, thank you very much.

(It’ll be him who wins that one - hormone-induced nightmares are nothing compared to the horrors your brain can produce when you have blood and a war on your hands)

And then Karol throws him for a loop by tossing his bag semi-gently to the floor before diving into bed after Rita , of all people.

She hardly even makes a fuss. There’s a yelp - what sounds like it could be the start of the protest Raven would expect from such a combination - before she settles almost immediately.

“Just make sure you don’t kick me awake again, got it?” she barks pointedly at him, before rolling to face away from him and promptly cocooning herself in the blanket. He laughs at her, kicking off his shoes and fluffing up his pillow, seemingly content.

Wide-eyed, Raven turns to the girls - surely he can’t be the only one caught off-guard by this, it seems unthinkable for Rita not to put up a fight to sharing with Karol , and there’s an exclamation of surprise right on the tip of his tongue - only to find them claiming the second bed for themselves, Judy helping Estelle to unfasten the complicated buckles of her dress. He bites his words back, head whipping away; much as the image of a pervert works as a brilliant cover to convince the kids of his idiocy, peeping on the possible-crown princess as she gets changed is certainly not a thing he’s ever aspired to.

And so he comes face to face with the final bed. His bed he supposes, strange as it may still be to him. Yuri’s already making himself comfy on the left side, shirt and jacket thrown over the bottom edge of the bed frame. He stretches his arms up and over his head, muscles rippling as he yawns. He catches Raven’s eye as they fall back down, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes.

“Looks like it’s you and me, old man.” he says, patting the sheets next to him with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

He can feel his own lips quirk to mirror Yuri’s, even as he fights to push down the instinctive panic.

“And here I was hopin’ ta share with my darlin’ Judy!” he whines playfully, flopping down beside him face first in a show of dramatism.

“Sorry, Raven. I just couldn’t miss the chance to cuddle up with Estelle!” comes her voice, sing-songy, from the bed she’s claimed. He can see, as he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees to get better situated, that she’s doing exactly that. She’s practically spooning the princess, face buried in short pink locks, and Estelle herself looks the very picture of a tomato (not that he wouldn’t himself with Judith’s considerable… assets pressed against him).

“Well so long as yer not a cuddler yerself, Mr Lowell.” he jokes, rearranging himself onto his back before pulling the duvet up to his chin. For all that they’re in less than ideal circumstances with sharing beds, he’s glad to see Palestralle don’t skimp on the furnishings for their inns - the linen is incredibly soft, smooth against the pads of his fingers, and it’s a smart fabric choice for an inn in so changeable a climate.

Yuri huffs a laugh.

“I think I can hold myself back this once, just for you.” he says, tone laden with sarcasm. He watches Raven with keen eyes as he lounges on his side, head resting in his hand. Raven wonders how he can sleep like that - how his arm doesn’t cramp in the night, doesn’t wake him up in a fit of panic when he can’t move it, breathing shallow until the blood flow returns. He forgets, sometimes, that not everyone enters a blind panic over the little things.

“Why, I'm honoured! Yer benevolence knows no bounds!" he coos back, nose scrunching in amusement. Yuri smiles as he reaches back and pats Repede where he stands by the bed - a silent request to turn off the overhead light. The pooch complies, trotting off with a clack of his pipe between his teeth - Raven’s constantly caught off guard by the dog’s intelligence, the number of strange things Yuri’s managed to teach him (or perhaps that the dog has taught himself? He’s still not fully certain how much of a hand in training him that the young man’s had), and this is certainly another for the list.

“Damn right it doesn’t. Better make sure you show me the respect I deserve.” he says. He meets his eyes again as the blastia clicks off, dousing them in darkness. They crinkle with mirth, the abyss within softening even more as Karol giggles at their antics on the other side of the room.

They find themselves in a staring contest, of sorts. Or maybe closer to a game of chicken? He’s sure Yuri sees it that way at least, if his unblinking gaze is anything to go by. For him on the other hand it’s… something else. What exactly he can’t say. He’s just... transfixed .

Because Yuri’s plenty handsome on his own - perhaps even beautiful, if that’s more your thing. Raven’s already seen him turn a great many heads in the short time they’ve been together, including both the illustrious head of Fortune’s Market and the great forgotten war hero himself. Maybe he’d even let himself cast an admiring glance his way, if he hadn’t picked specifically womaniser for Raven’s bullshit cover-up trait.

But when the sea-breeze blows gently, kicking up the curtains, and the moonlight shines into the room, it catches him just so. The glow is ethereal, transformative, and it brings out the hidden flecks of golden brown in the depths of Yuri’s eyes, spins the silk of his dark hair almost chestnut. And just for a moment, he can trick himself into believing she’s here, the Canary herself, laid opposite him with a fond teasing smile, and oh god the hole where his heart used to be aches to reach out and touch her--

But for all her perfections, Casey’s eyes had never glowed quite like that had they? Never stared directly into his soul, made him almost want to bury into her arms and let her shoulder his every burden for him. Her kindness had inspired, but never been so bottomless that he wanted to abuse it, had never come off her in waves to the point it was visible in every little line of her face despite any grandstanding. Never so gentle to the broken that he could almost convince himself that he doesn’t need to run, that if he’s seen he’ll be accepted wholly, flaws and sins and all.

Not like Yuri. Not at all like Yuri.

The curtain drops, or else the clouds must roll in overhead. Either way, the moonlight vanishes, and with it goes the last vestiges of the illusion.

“Aye-aye, sir.” he all but murmurs, his voice tighter than just moments ago. He hopes, as Yuri’s face twists in concern, that his own face doesn’t give away the turmoil of his heart.

“You alright, old man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Hah, maybe I have!” he laughs, but it sounds notably hollow even to him. Still, he doesn’t break eye-contact as Yuri seems to peer directly into him, seemingly scanning his every thought and feeling, hope and dream.

The last thing he sees as he slips into sleep is the gentle embrace of the abyss. While his dreams are plagued by nightmares, a broken body bleeding out in the sand, he finds it’s the best night’s sleep he’s had in years.

-------------⇸

The town is silent, other than the gentle rustle of the sea breeze through the trees and the crunch of the dirt path beneath his feet.

They’ve been here all day, but Yuri’s not sure he’s used to how incredibly peaceful Yormgen is yet. He’s not sure he ever will be, either. He’s used to the bustle of the city, the shouting of vendors and newsies in Zaphias’s main market as carts laden with goods and people roll by. It feels like there’s always a dog barking, a clock chiming, a baby crying in the city, and the background noise helps him to switch his brain off in a way that the country never can.

Halure had been quiet to him - the calm atmosphere of the day, the slowness of shop transactions and conversation, had already been a lot, but for there to be a perfect stillness as night fell rather than an increase in bustle as drinkers started to take to the town had been the real whiplash. Despite a relatively large population, the town didn’t have a single dedicated bar to its name, and it’d thrown Yuri for far more of a loop than he’d ever expected.

Yormgen is even stranger. There must be all of fourteen people in this entire town, he thinks, and every single one of them vanished into their houses the moment the sun started to set. The only conversation he's heard that he hasn’t been directly involved in since Duke showed up and smashed their apatheia (he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t still annoyed about that) is that of his own travelling companions bickering over what to make for dinner with their limited ingredients as he stepped away to find their mysterious disappearing old man.

Raven took the loss of the crystal hard. Or at least, Yuri thinks he did. He certainly vanished quickly when they decided to wait around while Rita took some time to investigate. He’d been right next to him one second and then gone the next, before they’d had a chance to agree to meet back up for dinner at sundown. With no one having seen him all day since to let him know, it’d fallen on his shoulders to hunt him down and drag him back. Raven might’ve been plenty energetic on their first trip through the desert, but they all know better than to let him make the return journey on an empty stomach. The man eats like a bird at the best of times - he really can’t afford to be doing that now.

He’d grumbled and whined about it being him who had to go find him, but in all honesty he’s kind of pleased. He’s found himself surprisingly worried about the old man - this is the first time since they’ve started officially travelling together that he’s pulled a disappearing act. Normally it’s hard to get him to shut up for more than 20 minutes at a time, so the better part of a day without seeing or hearing from him at all is completely unheard of. If his silence doesn’t mean he’s curled up and died somewhere, then Yuri knows that he’s the only one of their party who stands any chance of fetching him with both of them left unscathed.

He’s explored the residential side of the town (if it can truly be called that) extensively already throughout the day. Not that it was hard to do - other than the homes of locals that are a bit further out, the town proper is essentially three big buildings and a deck. He’d quickly concluded that there were very few places to hide a man with a proclivity for such a bright shade of purple amongst the muted timber and the gentle green of the grass. The only conclusion he can come to is that Raven must’ve headed to the other side of town, to the sea of flowers that makes his sinuses itch just looking in their direction.

For all he knows they’ll give him a headache, the flowers are incredibly pretty. It had been the bushes of pink and blue trumpets that had caught his attention in the midday, as Estelle had run over to them in delight and plucked a few. She’d fashioned a few little fascinators, of sorts (a skill she’d learned in the finishing school she had no doubt been forced to attend as the potential future Empress), and spent the better part of an hour lacing them into everyone’s hair. If he looks back over his shoulder, he knows he’ll see Judith wearing the pink blossoms - rhododendron, Estelle had called them - with pride, while Karol nervously fidgets with his own, worried they’ll fall out, ruining the princess’s hard work.

Now, however, in the amber light of the sunset, it’s the flower tunnel that draws his eye. Not that he hadn’t noticed it before - it’s impossible to miss, vibrant as it is. But he’s never been the biggest fan of yellow, always a little bright for his tastes. The way the light bounces off the thousands of little flowers is certainly eye-catching though, setting them in such a way that their radiance is somehow easier on the eye. They’re impossible to look away from as he draws closer, some emotion he’s unused to, couldn’t possibly name, stirring in his chest. The chains dance gently in the breeze, bouncing against each other like a bead curtain, and something about it makes him nostalgic for the familiarity of the Lower Quarter.

Then he spots him, further in, beneath the boughs. His hand rests comfortably on the handle of the knife he keeps at his waist, the other left to the mercy of the breeze as he stares up amidst the blossoms. They bathe him in their glow, mingling with the dying rays of the sun, casting him almost golden . He’s mesmerised by the sight himself, it seems, completely off-guard for the first time in the couple of months Yuri’s known him - for all he plays the fool, Yuri would be an even bigger one not to realise how keenly Raven follows the every movement of all those around him.

But right now, he seems… defenceless. Open. Fragile. Unaware that a world aside from him and the sea of flowers even exists. He could do whatever he wanted to Raven in this moment, he thinks, and he just knows the man would be equally surprised by anything. Something about that knowledge, this vision makes his chest feel light, almost airy.

The image sears itself into his mind, unbidden, and he knows instantly. No matter how hard he tries he’ll never erase it.

“Laburnum.”

He startles as Raven speaks. Perhaps he hadn’t been as unaware as he’d thought.

“Huh?” he grunts dumbly.

“These flowers. They call ‘em Laburnum. Or golden rain in some parts.” he says, flicking his eyes (almost the vibrant green of dense aer with the glow) over to acknowledge Yuri. He goes quickly back to gazing upwards, almost reverent. “Pretty apt.”

Yuri finds himself eyeing the flowers again as he moves closer. They’re strangely shaped, the blooms, unlike any he’s seen before. The petals curl back and in on themselves, clustered closely together in a way that hides the little shock of red in their centres. Stranger still are the buds, gently curved in a way that reminds him of the plantains he’d seen in Dahngrest’s market.

From the right angle, they could almost look like birds in flight, or indeed a sudden burst of rainfall.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Raven’s lips quirk into a smile. His eyebrows set into something pensive, wistful even.

“They’re pretty rare these days. Didn’t think I’d ever get to see a single tree with my own eyes, never mind a whole grove…”

The melancholy that’s settled over him like a veil is impossible to ignore, his voice distant as though transported to another time. There’s a pressure at the base of Yuri’s throat as he watches him, finds himself wanting to do… something. He’s not sure what. Just anything to pull him from his reverie. But of course, in the end all he really knows is sarcasm.

“Wouldn’t have taken you as the type to know about flowers.”

It seems to work somewhat. Though perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised - he and Raven have always been strangely in sync.

“Wouldn’t be much good with the ladies if I didn’t know about little things like flowers, now would I?” he says, finally turning to face Yuri more fully. His eyes soften with mischief, and yet still seem tight with… well if Yuri had to put a name to it, he’d wager it was grief .

A half-joke then; his flower knowledge almost certainly learned on behalf of one lady, though he’d wager not women generally at all. After all, for all he seemed to enjoy playing the womaniser, his actions often seemed chosen to purposefully push them away if anything.

Yuri rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance. Raven smiles. It gets closer to meeting his eyes than he expected it to.

“I can’t imagine just throwing their names around is especially impressive. Seems more like the absolute bare minimum.” he says, hand coming to rest on a cocked hip. Raven’s smile widens, coaxed out of his shell somewhat by the familiar teasing routine.

“Ah, but whoever said I only knew their names?”

His eyebrows raise instinctively. To know flowers’ names is one thing, but any other details aren’t usually common knowledge; their language, how to arrange them, the best methodology for their care all usually things known solely by the upper echelons of society, or else those with enough money in their back pockets to take a chance on starting a related career.

“Don’t tell me…” he trails off, fixing Raven with a sceptical look. The old man’s face splits into a wide grin, hand coming up to flash a peace sign. Dork, his thinks impulsively as he huffs a laugh, surprised at the fond tone the word takes in his mind. Then quick as the cheer arrives it drops again, leaving the previous melancholic half-smile splayed across Raven’s face.

“These wouldn’t be much good in a bouquet though, pretty as they are. If bein’ deadly poisonous wasn’t enough, they’re usually used as a symbol of the forsaken. ” he muses, the last word spat like something dirty from his mouth.

“Who the hell would look at these and decide that? ” Yuri barks out. His expression must look as bewildered as he feels - Raven laughs at him, gentle but genuine.

“Yeah, it seems like a lot, right?” he says. His gaze drifts away from Yuri’s, losing focus and staring past him, through his shoulder. “She always liked them though, in spite of that.”

“...She?” he asks, carefully. He doesn’t want to sound eager, too nosey. Doesn’t want to push when the old man is this fragile. But he can’t help his curiosity - this is the first he’s mentioned of his past, the first clue to piecing together the admittedly fascinating mystery that is Raven. The man himself seems to realise it too, that with just one sentence he’s revealed a huge part of himself he hasn’t previously. Graciously, he doesn’t scramble to hide it away as Yuri might’ve expected.

“Ah. Old friend.” he says softly, as though divulging a secret. “She’s… gone now. But she was always a big fan of flowers. These weren’t her favourite but. She liked ‘em plenty.”

It slips out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Not like you to spill your past out in the open like this, old man.”

It takes all of his mental strength not to kick himself as Raven’s expression shutters, the nostalgia, longing , vanishing from his face in favour of something more carefully guarded. His eyes though, expressive as they are, can’t hide the pain.

“Ah. I suppose they got me feelin’ a little nostalgic. Forgive me.”

The silence stretches out between them for miles and miles as he watches Raven, Raven in turn watching the dancing laburnum above his head. His eyes flicker from bloom to bloom, as though cataloguing each one carefully, trying to commit their shape, their profile to memory. Yuri finds his eyes drawn to his lips as they purse, a gentle pout taut in a manner that gives away the nervous chewing of the inside of his mouth. His thick eyelashes fan over his cheekbones as he blinks, and Yuri hates the silence of the country, because it’s weird sappy shit like this that the bustle of the city helps him to avoid thinking about.

Raven’s a lot like these flowers , is the thought that springs to his mind, unprompted. And it’s ridiculous really. Completely nonsensical. The kind of thing Karol might come out with on a night where he’s overtired, that they’d all tease him for mercilessly until they pass out. But there’s nothing to distract him from it - he’s surrounded by the evidence, and the more he tries to ignore it the more sense it seems to make to him. The two parts of his brain war with each other, unrelenting, and he can feel the push and pull starting to show on his face.

Then a single blossom falls from the canopy above. It lands perfectly atop Raven’s bangs, perched there like a peepit in a tree, and he can’t fight the analogy anymore - Raven certainly looks forsaken, in that instant, the pain swimming in his eyes. And yet usually so bright and cheery, like the flower’s vibrant colouring, almost desperate for attention as he jokes around-- and then pushing people away, like a poison, when they try to get close. An exterior crafted to make you underestimate him, and yet a hidden strength, swift and deadly on the battlefield. A sunny disposition that washes over you like a summer rain, calming and refreshing.

He’s not sure anymore if the golden glow bouncing off Raven’s skin is from the flowers, or just simply the man himself.

A light breeze jostles the flower, and it slips from his hair. The strange shape hooks itself onto the crook of his nose and it wedges firmly, even as the wind picks up, cascading more petals down onto them both. Raven either ignores it, or doesn’t notice, his eyes falling closed as he lets nature wash over him.

He steps closer carefully, unthinkingly. He feels as a moth to a flame, though why he couldn’t say. He’s unfamiliar with the stirring in his chest that rises at the sight, doesn’t understand his compulsion to reach out, to touch Raven. To check he’s still solid and there, that he hasn’t been blown away on the currents of the wind like his namesake.

His hand reaches out, plucking the flower from Raven’s face gently. The old man startles instantly, eyes snapping open and meeting Yuri’s as he flicks the blossom to the floor. Raven’s eyes scan over him, looking for answers that he’s not sure he’ll find. Yuri certainly wouldn’t be able to explain if he were to ask. He simply looks between the sunken blue-green, carefully smoothing more fallen petals from Raven’s shoulders.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, voice practically a whisper beneath the howling of the breeze, far gentler than he’d expected it to be, “I think I understand why your friend liked them.”

Raven’s eyebrow cocks, ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he answers, lips quirking into a small smile, something genuine and raw and delicate that he doesn’t recall gracing his face before. “They’ve got a certain charm, I suppose.”

Raven’s breath hitches - he doesn’t hear it, only sees the narrowing of his nostrils, the bobbing of his Adam's apple. His eyes are so round, as the melancholy starts to subside slowly, leaving something inquisitive in his wake. It’s an expression he’s sure he’s seen on Repede before when he was younger, still training, still struggling with learning to sit on command, and it feels strange to compare Raven to a puppy, but it certainly isn’t the strangest thing that’s happened to him in the last 24 hours.

It feels like hours before Raven breaks his eyes away, anything raw and gentle immediately traded for bluster and jokes as he ducks his head.

“What’re you doin’ hangin’ out with me amidst the flowers anyway?” he asks, voice a little hoarse as his teasing lilt starts to creep back to him. “The others will start to talk if we keep havin’ these secret rendezvous, young man! How scandalous!”

He slaps his hand to his chest, feinting horror at their make-believe tryst. Yuri snorts, socking him lightly in the arm. Ridiculous as his jokes are, he can’t help but be pleased to see him return to some semblance of normalcy.

“I came to get you for dinner, dumbass. After that, you can feel free to go on ahead to Nordopolica.” he says, turning back around to lead the way to the others with a nod of his head.

Raven snickers at his own antics, hurrying to follow after him as he pulls a hurt expression.

“What, you wanna get rid of me so soon?”

“Wrong.” he snorts, head turned pointedly away in an effort to ignore his self-deprecating jokes. “I just wouldn't want you to miss the new moon and your chance to deliver the letter all on our account.”

The beat of silence that follows is just a touch too long for their usual banter. He turns back to Raven, worried momentarily that he’s run off again and he’ll be on a wild goose chase for the rest of the night, only to find him following attentively behind him. He’s looking at Yuri, expression… totally indecipherable to him for once, actually. It’s a rare occasion for him to have no idea what the old man is thinking.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow quirking. Raven simply smiles, wide and catlike.

“Oh, nothin’ important~” he sing-songs, taking over the lead in the moment Yuri pauses. “Honestly, I could do fine without your concern.”

Yuri scowls.

“Wrong again.” he says, moving to keep pace, their back-and-forth continuing until they arrive back at the inn, and the campfire their party has set up.

(He never does figure out what Raven’s expression had meant on that day, but when he finds the small laburnum branch tangled in his hair alongside the rhododendron the next morning, he quietly stows it away in the bottom of Karol’s bag, heart fluttering strangely in his chest)

-------------⇸

The speed at which Mantaic’s locals manage to throw the party together is honestly quite astounding.

The stalls of the inn concourse have cleared their tables of their wares, already starting to accumulate piles of local cuisine - barely an hour since the news of the Flynn Brigade’s arrival started to spread throughout the town, whispers abandoned in favour of joyous cries despite the extreme early hour, and already there’s a feast to rival one for a noble. People of all ages are wide awake and gleeful, even very young children who don’t fully understand what’s happening squealing with joy at seeing their parents’ and older siblings’ excitement.

The princess tries to help where she can (as always) - shakily carrying huge steaming pots to their directed positions, assisting in dragging tables out of homes to line the streets. Were Flynn not so busy tying up loose ends with the stragglers of the Cumore Brigade, Judith’s sure he’d be dancing around her like a mother hen. Instead, Karol and Rita have become his stand-ins, getting roped into helping themselves albeit minus Estelle’s unshakeable enthusiasm.

She’s glad everything turned out okay in the end. It had been with great unease that they’d all drifted off to sleep the night before, distressed at their powerlessness, their lack of time. Battling with the princess’s impulsivity had been hard, especially in the presence of her big round eyes and quivering lips, but a necessary evil. There really wasn’t anything they could’ve done. Judith remains firm in her belief - it would be impossible to rehabilitate a man like Cumore in jail. Even with the combined influence of Flynn and Estelle, the strength of their idealism and naïveté, a man as corrupt as he would never conform to concepts like morals and ethics. He would only change in death.

The man’s fall from grace, while certainly better than allowing him to run amok, does little to satisfy her in all honesty. The townspeople, however, just seem glad to be free of his clutches, regardless of the flaws in the Empire’s justice system. She can’t blame them really - she’s sure she’d feel the same in their shoes, the ever-lingering threat of death by dehydration or being eaten alive finally lifted from their shoulders.

She’s glad for the lifting of the tense air that had settled over their travelling party the night before. That there’s a smile on Estelle’s face again is good too. For the sake of the guild, nothing more , she scolds herself mentally, quashing the leap in her chest as the baby blues smile in her direction.

She finds herself counted as one of the old souls on this occasion; the small group who are extremely pleased for the turn of events and the freedom of the people, but are either too tired or consider themselves too uninvested to actually lend a hand. Raven is a regular to this group, fucked as his sleeping pattern is, and it doesn't surprise her as much as she thought it would that Patty too sits among them.

Yuri sitting back, however, is new.

Something is off with him. Something has been off with him since… well, certainly since their discovery of Cumore's little scheme. He’s never been the most talkative of their group, a man of relatively few words until it comes to snide jibes and teasing, or else rallying speeches to raise morale or call outs for something he perceives to be an injustice.

(She’d say he was self-righteous - but then, by that same line of thinking, isn’t she also?)

His usual quietude has never felt like this though - dense and oppressive like thunderclouds, holding a tension that, if referred to, threatens to strike like lightning, harsh and quick and painful. It’s possible he’d just slept badly, but she doubts it. She and Yuri are painfully alike at the best of times and in this, it seems, they continue to be.

Yes, for Yuri, the biggest champion of justice among them, to still be so tense, so incredibly on edge… It’s extremely telling.

The only one who seems to have noticed Yuri’s torment other than her (and his faithful pooch) is, of course, Raven. It’s no surprise - he’s always kept a close eye on Yuri, in the time she’s known them. She’d heard tell that the Don had taken an interest in Yuri when he’d met him, in a way usually foreign to him in regards to newcomers. Normally it would be years - years of hard work, of craft and contributions in the name of the guilds, for the man to so much as glance in your direction, let alone learn your name (understandably so for so busy and powerful a man). Yet Yuri had waltzed in and garnered his full attention in the space of a few hours, at best.

That Raven has clearly been instructed to stake him out, in addition to his apatheia hunt, feels natural. Less so is a good chunk of what he actually seems to be observing about Yuri - she’s sure the Don would much rather see a report on his fighting capabilities, his disposition, the flexibility of his morality in a pinch, than whatever he’s gleaning by staring at his back when he takes his shirt off, or watching the flow of his hair in the desert breeze.

(That is, however, a report she would quite like to read, if for nothing more than watching the burn of Raven’s ears at the request)

This morning, however, the eye he keeps on him is careful. Though the ever-present catlike smirk that plays over his lips remains, there’s something considering to his gaze - a scheme in the works but not those of his usual calibre. Nothing designed to rile Rita, fluster Estelle or make the kids laugh (though she’s sure if he can tie his usual goals into whatever he’s concocting then he certainly won’t shy away at the chance).

If she had to guess at his intentions, she’d have thought--

The blaring of a horn throws her suddenly from her train of thought - the celebrations are brought instantly into full swing by a makeshift band of passing guildsmen throwing their own contributions into the mix. Judith doesn’t consider herself a big listener of music, in all honesty, but she’d be hard pressed not to recognise the juxtaposed staccatos and legatos characteristic of Dahngrestian swing - while lesser known within Empire towns like this one, the style is famous the world over.

She hasn’t had many opportunities to join in with the festivities the guilds are known for throwing, where dancers step and twirl faster than the barkeeps can pour drinks (and really, isn’t that an impressive thought, considering the drinking culture in Dahngrest?) She’s bore witness to their local dancing customs only once or twice, and never within the heart of the city itself, and she knows with certainty that while her footwork on the battlefield might be immaculate, she has two left feet for dancing - would certainly never dare to attempt swing. She has great sympathy for the townsfolk who, while enraptured by the melody, feet tapping along jovially, seem as though they don’t know quite what to do with it.

Altosk’s second, on the other hand, is ecstatic. He barks a delighted laugh that startles Patty, almost jostling her from the table she’s perched upon, and finally momentarily draws Yuri from his reverie. She watches, amused, as he throws Yuri’s grumpy, inquisitive look a wink before springing to his feet.

“Hey, kid!” he calls, flagging Karol down as he heads to the middle of the concourse. Their illustrious guild master looks up from the mabo curry bun he’s attempting to swallow whole, wide-eyed. Raven grins, crooked and gummy in a way she’s come to associate with his mischief.

“Why don’t we show these lovely folks how it’s done, as thanks for their hospitality?”

Karol is practically vibrating at the concept. In a flash he’s pulling off his gloves and whipping his bag over his head, dumping the pile in Rita’s lap (eliciting, of course, an incredibly over the top yelp of annoyance). He scarfs down the remnants of the bun as he hops over the table he’s sat at, scampering over to Raven in a manner that does nothing to hide his enthusiasm.

“You better not stand all over my feet, Raven!” he calls as he draws closer, face pulling into a pout that doesn’t quite ring true. The noise Raven makes in response is rather like that of a strangled cat.

“The nerve o’ kids these days!” he bemoans, pinching his sinuses with a shake of his head. “I’ll have you know yours truly is the pride of Altosk! Ya won’t find a better dancer in all o’ Dahngrest, not even the Don himself!”

“Uhu, suuuure. ” Karol drawls, disbelieving, as he comes to a stop by his side.

It’s as he does that Raven ducks his head close to the boy, hand a shield to cover whatever he says. His words are inaudible, but if Karol’s terrible attempts at hiding his furtive glances in Yuri’s direction are anything to go by, Judith would have to guess it’s something about whatever Raven’s scheming for Brave Vesperia’s second.

The band seems to catch wind of their plans, slowing the jaunty tune down to allow the two to begin. Karol dusts his hands off on his trousers bashfully, ridding himself of any remnants of curry, before taking Raven’s hand in his. Their movements start off slow and creeping, almost unnatural to watch, but it quickly becomes apparent to her that they’re motions meant to teach rather than for actual dancing - an enunciated display of footwork for the surrounding beginners as they take their time to get a feel for each other as dance partners.

And then, Raven taking Karol’s waist, they begin in earnest. Movements still slow, but now fluid as water, they begin to turn around one another in the style she vaguely recognises, and while she knows nothing about dancing, it’s clear that they’re extremely good. They match each other's timing perfectly, not a step out of place, and she could believe they were gliding if not for the dust their footsteps kick up.

Karol is good, of course, especially for a kid of his age (she wonders idly if he might’ve had a brief foray in a dancing guild, prior to joining the Hunting Blades), but Raven is really something else. She’s never seen a man able to move his hips in such a way, sashaying in a way that’s frankly a little hypnotising - if she thought he were truly interested in her, then this’d definitely be enough to make her begin to consider his earlier flirtations more seriously. It’s frankly criminal, she thinks, that his trousers and jacket do so much to obscure his ass.

As they become more comfortable, they begin to ramp it up a little - they take it in turns to twirl one another, alternating between wide sweeping arcs, Raven displaying his extreme flexibility to twist beneath Karol’s arm, to fast tight twirls that almost remind her of Rita’s casting motions. For these, Karol spins so quickly she’s surprised he doesn’t completely lose balance and land face first in the dirt. Instead he simply laughs jovially, really getting into the spirit of it and losing himself to the music. Raven’s responding smile is fond, like a father watching their kid, and she could almost believe they’ve both forgotten about their ulterior motives, if not for how Raven keeps glancing in their direction every other time he’s facing their way.

It’s as Estelle drags Rita out to join them, accompanied by a group of the locals, that Judy feels something ugly snare her heart and promptly takes the opportunity to cast a considering glance instead to Patty and Yuri. The smaller is bouncing where she sits, gleefully watching the dancers - she seems antsy to join in, if only she could find a spare partner who wouldn’t accidentally crush her.

Yuri surprises her - while he might not be completely out of his funk, he’s watching more attentively than she previously expected. She gazes at him curiously for a while as he leans his head on his hand, watching the Dahngrestian pair’s increasing frenzy. Karol’s giggles are near constant, and Raven’s been infected by his happiness, laughing obnoxiously himself. The creases of Yuri’s eyes tighten, even as the rest of his face fails to emote, as his eyes seem to lock on Raven’s face and stay there. She smiles.

“Ahem.” she coughs, sharp and decidedly fake. Yuri and Patty both are startled away from the party, turning to her. She raises her eyebrows pointedly at the former, coy smirk rising to her lips. His eyes widen in response, as Patty turns confusedly to look at him, before he flusters, turning away from the party entirely. She laughs.

It’s at that moment that Karol comes spinning towards them, hand freed from Raven’s grasp at last. His smile is blinding, and he’s struggling to catch his breath, but he still seems to be full of energy as Raven follows behind him.

“Patty, you probably know a bit of swing, right?” he asks her, real question thinly veiled by his proffered hand.

She’s a clever lass, though. “Hah! Of course I do, matey!” she declares, grabbing it firmly and pulling him back out into the street.

Raven watches them go fondly, before turning to her. With a flourish, he bows to her, graceful as a knight but with none of the prim and proper charm.

“Judy, my darlin’, could I convince ya to honour ol’ Raven with a dance?”

His eyes never leave hers as he asks, gaze sharp and lacking all pretense of genuine flirting.

Ah, so that’s his game is it?

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly!” she declares exaggeratedly, hand to her chest. “Not when Yuri so clearly wants to instead!”

The effect is instant. She barely has time to note the twitch of Yuri’s ears at the sound of his name before his head whips around to look at them.

“Hu- what?”

Raven springs back upright, throwing his hand up to clutch at his own chest.

“Yuri, darlin’, if you wanted to dance with me then all you had to do was say so! No need to make Judy do all yer dirty work for ya!”

He closes the gap between them in a matter of steps, as Yuri’s face grows more panicked by the second.

“Wh-- no, what?! Judy, no, I can’t dance , JU--!!”

She smiles as Raven takes him by the hand and tugs him away. Yuri’s expression reminds her of a bunwigle, caught unaware in the middle of the night, backed into a corner with no escape. It’s incredibly endearing, and certainly a nice change from the faux-apathy he’s been stewing in.

As they move away she watches as Raven’s expression transforms from mischievous to something more careful, considerate. He doesn’t guide Yuri to the middle of the crowd as she’d expected, where their friends spin with reckless abandon, but instead to a quieter area of the dancing space. Yuri seems just as confused as she feels, more than likely expecting Raven to have humiliated him with his lack of skill. They’re far enough away that whatever the older man says to reassure him is lost to her, but he smiles and takes Yuri’s hands gently.

Her heart swells at the careful way Raven teaches him, easily pulls him out of his darker thoughts and concentrates his mind on something else. Yuri doesn’t strike her as the sort to let himself be taken care of, but she doubts he even realises that’s what’s happening - probably sees it instead as some sort of challenge. It’s nice. She might not have known him long, but she feels close to him in a way she hasn’t felt with another person for… a good ten years, she’d wager. She’d forgotten what it felt like, to see good things happen to someone you care about.

He trips over Raven’s feet often, but Raven doesn’t let him get self-conscious about it - instead exaggeratedly pretending to trip himself in a way that allows Yuri to chip in and tease him. When there’s one failed attempt too many and Yuri attempts to break away, he simply pulls him back in, closer, and looks him in the eyes.

(She feels a little bad for still watching, personal and intimate as the moment is becoming, but it’s hard to find anything else interesting at this point)

“What is it I always say when I’m fightin’, Yuri?” she can just about hear the old man say over the wail of the trombone.

Yuri’s tone is monotonous, even as his face starts to rise into an affectionate smirk.

“‘Ooo, eee, ow, my back hurts?’” he says, quirked eyebrow a dead giveaway for his bullying. He receives a light slap to his arm for his trouble that leaves him laughing openly in a way she… hasn’t actually seen from him in the time she’s known him.

Huh.

“That it’s just like dancin’, ya dolt!” he says. He laces their fingers carefully before starting to move once more through the basic steps. “You’ll see what I mean before long.”

After a few more failed attempts, Yuri finally starts to figure it out. He still steps on Raven’s toes more often than not, but it’s to be expected for a newbie in the face of a dance as rapid as swing - she’s quite impressed at how fast he’s picked it up in all honesty. He’s already doing a damned sight better than Rita, whose motions are still awkward and stiff as she’s twirled by Estelle (though she looks to be having the time of her life, in spite of it).

They look very sweet together, in all honesty. It’s the most she’s seen either of them relax in front of other people - Yuri’s snark is quickly abandoned as he starts to really get into the swing of it, and most of Raven’s jokes and teasing go along with it. They’re just a couple of normal guys in their own little world, dancing together beneath the rising sun, looking genuinely happy for once. Watching them laughing together, she finds her own spirits raised too, even as she continues to sit to one side like a wallflower.

And she’s glad she did. If she hadn’t, she’d have missed out on this potentially one-time-only sight of Yuri’s carefree smile. Would’ve never seen the sudden change in Yuri’s demeanor as he looks up at Raven mid-spin, eyes widening, before his expression becomes suddenly raw.

He’s not watching his feet at all any more - he’s just going with the flow, and reading Raven’s movements and they’re incredibly in sync to say Yuri has all of 10 minutes of experience. It’s strange to think it, but he seems to be having fun , doing something other than fighting, even despite his mess ups.  Yuri’s uncharacteristically crooked smile, as his eyes never leave Raven’s, is blindingly beautiful, and piques her curiosity.

Before today, when she’d seen the admiring glances the Raven had sent his way, she’d have thought he was barking up the completely wrong tree. Now though (although she doubts Yuri’s realised the way he’s starting to look at the old man) she’s really not so sure.

Then the moment is gone.

Behind her, she hears him. Flynn, barking orders to his brigade, accompanied by the protests of the now-bound followers of Cumore. And in that exact instant, Yuri stops stock-still. Raven goes crashing into him, frantically apologising and trying to check he’s okay, but it’s as though he isn’t there. Yuri just stares past her to Flynn, eyes wide and unseeing but… terrified , if she had to take a guess.

She can hear Raven call to him as he slips his hands free from his grip, and he looks up glancingly. He mutters something, what she can only imagine is some excuse, or a few words of apology, before he’s stalking off towards the inn and shutting the door behind him briskly.

Raven, standing alone and off to one side, looks very small in that instant. Like he doesn’t know quite where he went wrong, what he could’ve possibly done differently.

Perhaps, just this once, she can take pity on him. After all, if there’s anyone who can fix her left feet…

Standing and smoothing down her skirts, she heads over to him, taking his hand, and he startles. His big blue eyes look up at her, puppy-like, and it’s like Estelle the night before all over again. She sighs, already regretting her question before she asks.

“Is the offer still open?”

He smiles. Solemn. But it’s a start.

me, age 12: haha yeah raven blatantly has a thing for yuri and i love them together, but i guess there isn't much to imply yuri likes him back huh me, age 24, seeing the 'Happy Birthday' skit for the first time and learning the Very Specific Age Gap between Yuri and his first ever crush: a

ftr no one in the vesperia party is cishet no i will not take questions

[secretsfromwholecloth]

💋⚡️⛺️❤️(👀👀👀👀xD)🔞?

(From these asks.)

💋: favourite romance?

Like 85% of Lann’s romance is aimed squarely at me, and the rest is certainly nice enough to enjoy in its context. Like I said on Discord, it’ll probably continue to be my comfort romance that I go for when I have no other plans, like Tekēhu in PoE. That said, I’ve also quite enjoyed what I’ve seen of Arueshalae and Daeran’s romances over the virtual shoulders of you and others on Discord, and they’re both very much in my queue. (Especially Arue, who I saw the first part of anyway when Ounai blundered into flirting with her—time to see the rest!)

⚡️: favourite (or current) mythic path?

Gold Dragon is delightful, especially if you like being nice and helpful enough to want to play Be Nice And Helpful: The Mythic Path. (And Hal’s a great dad, plus he comes with some fun dragon aunties and uncles.) What I saw of Angel on the way there I really liked, and I want to ride it out all the way to the end one day for additional himbo time, if nothing else. Azata would be awfully saccharine in isolation, but within the context of the otherwise rather grim events of the game, it’s a lovely breath of fresh air, and its Friendly Hug spell is the closest thing to a hug button I’ve seen in any RPG I’ve played, plus Aivu is terminally adorable. I’m also looking forward to ripping out my own heart and stomping on it with Aeon, plus maybe giving Trickster and Legend a look at some point. We’ll see which path I end up using for the secret ending.

⛺️: what’s your favourite camp banter?

Oh dear gods, there are so many. There is so much of everything in this game, it’s huge. a) Nearly all of the intra-party dynamics are delightful, and b) there’s so much it all kind of runs together, so it’s really hard for me to single one out, though Woljif’s jealousy banters (plus his one where he’s so desperate for family connections that he speculates that his demon grandfather may have been a cousin of Arue’s and she tells him it’s for the best that he takes after his human side more), Nenio expounding on her “high fluffiness quotient and aesthetically pleasing hue”, and Greybor grousing about how he’s turning into a goody-two-shoes crusader all leap to mind. Also Regill grouchily declaring his utter lack of interest in either naked people or people faking desire for him put a huge smile on my face for obvious reasons.

❤️: any npcs you liked, or even wished you could romance?

Yes, my dear, we all love the himbo. I’m not, like, desperate for a Hand romance or anything, but if there were one it would’ve gone right into my queue—he’s our friend, despite that one bit where he Does The Thing, and intense friendships the way I understand and experience them generally map best onto romances when it comes to RPG relationships. Beyond him, I love Aivu very much, Anevia and Irabeth are great and I’m so glad I got them a happy ending on my first run, and I sure do love Red Mask for reasons that definitely don’t involve the word “aspirational” at all, where would you get that idea. *eye-twitchies* 

🔞: do you have any nsfw headcanons, either for ocs or canon characters?

...I don’t not have them? It’s not the sort of thing I think of until I know a character quite well, and I have specific tastes that tend towards the “deadly boring” end of the spectrum, so I’m not the best source unless you’ve got specific questions. Besides, I get pretty uncomfortable about telling on myself publicly, so anything I post will be very vague. That said (putting a cut here to spare my readers’ delicate sensibilities):

Everything about celestials is beautiful, down to their bodily fluids smelling like perfume and looking like liquid gemstones and body parts that aren’t aesthetic-looking on anyone else somehow being so on them. Whether aasimar get a touch of this is down to the genetic lottery, I suppose. (Ounai got just enough to be weirdly alluring even when she’s objectively a filthy mess.)

Speaking of celestials, if the Hand is half again to twice as tall as your typical human, then assuming average proportions, it ought to be on the far upper end of what you find in human-sized humans. Do with this information what you will.

Back in the late ‘90s or thereabouts, I read someone’s homebrew D&D supplement online—I want to say it was “The AD&D Guide to Sex”, and you know it was the ‘90s because the AD&D label was still a thing—that included a feat where high-level paladins would urinate pure holy water. Was it probably put there by someone with a piss fetish? Yes. Is it hilarious enough that I immediately adopted it as my personal headcanon despite that? Also yes.

I remain mostly agnostic on the Lann genitalia controversy except that I put my foot down about him having scales on there, because ow. Human skin only, please.

Speaking of Lann, I’m sure dating norms aren’t the only thing he does intensive research on before his romance finale. I leave as an exercise to the reader who exactly he asked what questions.

Riftmarked tieflings are supposed to be fucking weird-looking. Where are my tentacles, Owlcat? Visekot could be using them for such delightful things. Just imagine. I’m not even going to try pinning down her genital situation, either. Enh, she and Lann will figure something out.

[oftenderweapons]

Papa Noël — Namjoon

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 7.0k

Genre: fluff, smut, engaged rmxr, idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Hello bunnies! Merry Christmas to all of you. I wish you all the best ✨💜

I had to write this thingie because I’m selfish and I had this sort of unholy vision that told me, “you must do it”. And so I did this. 

This fic is set on Namjoon and Vixen’s first Christmas together. The two are engaged (you’ll read about that sooner or later). Unfortunately, Vixen had to attend a dinner party at which she couldn’t bring Namjoon (their relationship is still very, very private, and even her parents don’t know who she’s dating, plus they respect her privacy). Namjoon spends the night with his friends, but decides to head back home and wait for Vixen — who is unforturnately late. As soon as she arrives, he is quite eager to warm her up and let her unwrap her Christmas gift. But he’d much rather unwrap her first.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: I’ll be on the naughty list forever after writing this. Swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, DDLG dynamics/daaddy kink, dirty talking, striptease, lingerie fetish, light foot fetish, very lowkey roleplay, sex toy (glass dildo), oral fixation, masturbation (female receiving) light bondage (satin bow), spanking (with rings... ahem), thigh riding, cum play and cum eating, mentions of oral sex (male receiving), a very emotional proposal, mentions of unprotected sex (never ever ever do that unless you’re 10000% sure BOTH YOU AND YOUR PARTNER(S) ARE CLEAN)

Suggested playlist: I Just Melt - Sabrina Claudio // Short Red Silk Lingerie - Sabrina Claudio // Santa Baby - Ariana Grande, Liz Gillies // I’ll Be Home For Christmas - Demi Lovato // Wishlist - Alaina Castillo

In case you need it, here is my masterlist :)

Enjoy!!! 

————————————————

Papa Noël (French) — Santa Claus, en. [Daddy Christmas, lit.]

Namjoon sat on the sofa, his naked foot tapping against the plush carpet. For a second he considered what the actual fuck he was doing in his own living room dressed like that, making an absolute fool of himself. 

Then he remembered the party your firm had organised for Christmas Eve, and the fact that he couldn’t have attended with you. 

He hadn’t asked you to stay home, especially since your mother and father were going to attend too, and your boss and them had been friends for a very long time. 

Obediently, you had followed your father’s will, you had put on your delicious blue velvet dress and you had made sure Namjoon saw you secure the little clip of your suspender belt to your stockings. 

“I won’t be out late.” You had told him as he knelt and secured the small straps of your stilettos around your ankles. 

“I’m a bit mad you’re going to be out, all dolled up, without me.” 

“There’s a ring on my finger, Joonie.” You said. 

“A ring and no fiancé. How inconvenient,” He murmured, letting his palms climb up the back of your thighs, until they met the naked skin above the elastic band of your stockings. “Aren’t they going to ask questions?” He asked, letting his long middle finger slide against the soft satin of your panties. 

“No.” You said. “They know I’m in a relationship. They know I’ll tell them when I deem it appropriate.”

He moved his hand away from your slit, gripping your asscheeks. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“No.” You replied, dry, determined. Damn his paranoia. “You know there’s nothing I want to do more than use you as my toy boy, my future trophy husband.”

He grinned and sunk his nails into your flesh. “I’m just trying to keep you from rumors, my love.” You replied. “Not all the people in there are as discreet as I am.” You cupped his face. “And it’s not like I’m leaving you all alone.”

He nuzzled his face against your lap. “Jin and Angel are coming over at Yoongi and Kitten’s. I was invited,” Namjoon explained, taking his hands out of your skirt. 

“I’m glad I’m leaving you in good hands.” 

“It’s our first Christmas together.” He sulked.

“You’ll have me all for yourself tomorrow.” You combed his hair affectionately. “You’re lucky my family doesn’t take this Christmas thing seriously.”

“Will I get breakfast in bed?” He asked, raising to his feet and dwarfing you. 

You studied his figure with your eyes, observing his cream turtleneck that made his skin tone look like molten caramel, the expensive cashmere so soft under your palms, and then the light brown slacks, the shape of his cock so delicious that you couldn’t hold yourself back from tracing it with the tip of your index finger.

“Will I get breakfast in bed?” You asked, taunting him. 

“I don’t think it’s good for my babygirl to have her favourite candy cane first thing in the morning.” He replied, raising an eyebrow and catching your wrist. “I wouldn’t be a responsible daddy.”

“Come on, it’s Christmas.” You replied, whining a little and stretching to reach his mouth. 

He grinned as he saw you struggle, his dimple appearing as you kept pushing yourself on the tip of your toes, trying to touch his lips with yours. His nose scrunched and his eyes shrinked to heated slits as he bent his head down, allowing you access before he tightened his hands on your waist and picked you up, lifting you a few inches from the ground while you tightened your arms around his neck. 

“I’ll think about it.” He murmured on your lips. 

“Please.” You hummed quietly. 

His hand slipped down to your ass and squeezed it. “Maybe.”

You pouted and parted from him. “Then I think I might stay out late. Stay at my parents for the night. Mother always arranges beautiful brunches when I stay there. And Magdalene could enjoy me visiting her. You know, our governess. She raised me.” You said, fixing your dress and wearing your faux fur. 

“Come home. Eleven forty-five. No later.” He said, wrapping a forearm around your hips and spinning you around; you stumbled a little on your heels with the whole motion and the way he joined his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. “I’ve got gifts to deliver.” He said, parting from you and fixing your lipstick. 

“I’ll try.” You said, checking your watch and realising that probably your parents had already sent their driver to get you. 

“I have to go.” You murmured, cupping his cheek. “You know there's nothing I wanted more than spending the evening with you.”

“I know. I’ll wait for you.” He said, fixing a small lock of your hair behind your ear.

He accompanied you to the front door and opened it for you. “Have a nice evening, love.”

“You too.” You replied, completely charmed as he set you free like a delicate, gracious butterfly. 

————————————————

He started getting worried when he realised you were half an hour late. Then forty-five minutes. At midnight thirty-three, he heard some noise at the front door. 

There you were, legs wobbly, giggling at the phone. “I’m home. Yeah. Love you too. Stay warm.” You said softly, and then squealed. “No, I won’t choke on my boyfriend’s enormous dick. I’m super late. He’ll kill me.” Another pause. “No, he won’t kill me with his colossal cock. Stop talking about my fiancé’s cock, you slut!” You erupted in a bubbly laugh.

Namjoon felt his disappointment disappear, just slightly. 

“You could always go choke on Taehyung.” Pause. “Stop rubbing that on my face. I am TINY! It’s not my fault.”

Namjoon heard your snort-laugh. The one you used only with your closest people. He realised you were on the phone with Lace. He relaxed even more. “Gotta blast. Love you. Merry Christmas, you hoe.”

You giggled again as he heard you try to take off your shoes before you lost your balance, leaning on the wall. You hissed and cursed at the shoes. He heard the sound of you taking off your coat. And then you appeared, beautiful, so innocent, standing in the soft light of the Christmas Tree. 

And there he was. Sitting on the sofa. Legs parted wide. Shirtless. Barefoot. In a pair of red satin loose sweatpants with white furry hems at the ankles. And a Christmas hat. 

You swooned. 

“You’re late, little fox.” He said, pinning his forearms to his thighs and leaning forward. 

“I stayed out with Taehyung and Lace. We wanted to call you but I didn’t want to interrupt your previous arrangements.”

Namjoon licked his lips and bit his lower one, rubbing his index finger against his chin. “Jin and Angel kept making sex puns about chimneys and gifts and whatnots. Yoongi literally licked whipped cream off Kitten’s finger.” Namjoon exhaled. “It was painful. To say the least.”

You chuckled as discreetly as you could. 

“Is it funny, Vixen?” He asked, tipping his head back. “You’re forty-five minutes late.”

You sucked your lips past your teeth, lowering your head. “Tae and Lace were at the party. We left for a quick drink. We lost sense of time a little.” You said, flustered.

“I was here, waiting for you and you were out with your best friend and her boyfriend, my friend.” He said, crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side. “Are you listening?”

“Yes. Of course. I’m sorry.”

No, you weren’t. You were staring at his biceps, flexing, his chest expanding with ample breaths, his pectorals twitching. The mole on his chest. The path that it drew up the tendon of his neck, joining the other little mole near his collarbone, all the way up to the one below his plump lip. And the way his skin glimmered deliciously at the delicate lights of the Christmas Tree. You were ready to ask him a picture.

In your uterus was currently burning a blue hypergiant star. Just to clarify, 37 times hotter than the Sun. 

“You’re not listening.” He said, snickering. “I can see it.”

“I tried though.” You said shyly, pouting. 

He smiled and laid against the back of the sofa. “Come here.”

You blinked a couple times, rubbing your hand against your sternum, worried, biting your lip and playing coy. “Can I take off my dress first?”

“Of course, babygirl.” He said, propping his elbows on the pillow behind his back. 

You saw his chest stretch and oh’ed at the vision, making him giggle. “Come on, babe.”

You frowned and felt your ankles wobble as you undid the zipper at your side, bending down to lift your dress up from the lower hem, slipping it off from over your head. 

It took you a while to orient yourself on your way out of your dress, but as soon as you were free, you placed it down folding it neatly over the coffee table, where you noticed a small package wrapped in red paper and a big ribbon. 

“Is that mine?” You asked, batting your lashes at Namjoon. 

“Yes, darling.” He said, his eyes skimming your entire form. “Are you tipsy?” He asked, worried.

“A teensy, tiny bit.” You said. “Literally one glass of champagne, a spoonful of punch and a glass of wine with Tae and Lace. Nothing more.” You said, easing his nerves. He didn’t like when you drank — only because you’re a lightweight and he doesn’t want you to get sick.

He smiled softly as you listed the drinks. “It’s okay, buttercup. I’m not trying to control you. Just making sure that you can take me.” 

You bit your lower lip, nodding. 

“You look delicious, sugardoll.” He said, now finally focusing on your attire.

You smiled cutely and fixed your hair. “You like it?”

“I do, babylove.” He said. “Let me see it from up close.”

You walked closer to him, standing in between his legs. 

“Come on, give me a little twirl.” He said, placing his hand on your waist and helping you make a small, slow spin. You still had your heels on, after all. Just the way he liked it. 

“Let’s take off the big girl shoes, yes? That way you can be all tiny and barefoot for daddy.” He said, finding your wrists and placing your palms on his naked shoulders.

His skin was so hot. To the touch too. 

“Give me your foot, baby.” He said, looking up at you. 

You felt like crying. In the best way possible. 

You complied and his big fingers struggled a little with the small clasp before he managed to free it. 

The other shoe was easier. He diligently placed the stilettos out of the way, by the side of the sofa. “Next these.” He said, laying his hand on the back of your thigh and placing your foot between his legs, so close to his cock, currently laying across his lap, half mast towards his left hip. You noticed he still had a set of rings on, including the one shaped like a thick bear head, which he had bought in honour of the nickname you had assigned him.

He fought with the clip of the suspender belt, vaguely knowing that he should look for a small clasp on the upper elastic band of the stockings, but not knowing how to undo them. He still had a lot to learn, he realised. 

Your spindly fingers assisted him, showing the procedure. “There’s a rubber nub, inside. It grips the stocking and blocks it inside the metal frame, on the outside. You just need to slide the nub out of the frame.” You explained, showing him. 

He observed the movement of your fingers, the suspender strap snapping free. 

“There are other three. You can practice.” You smiled gently. 

He looked at your sweet face, at your eyes glittering in the Christmas lights. He was completely in love. Enchanted. Head over heels. 

He turned his eyes down, looking once more at the suspender strap on the other thigh, caressing your naked skin with the back of his index and middle fingers before hooking them under the fabric of your stocking, spotting a flat rubber surface. That must be the back of the nub. With his thumb, on the outer side, he spotted the nub, hooked in the small metal frame, covered in nylon. He slid it upwards and felt the strap snap. 

“Just like that, daddy.” You said, removing his hat with a smile and caressing his hair. So soft. It smelled like cedarwood, vetiver and patchouli. It smelled like safety, home, reassurance. Passion. Unconditional love. 

You led his hand to the back of your thigh and he percurred the length of the elastic strap to the hem of your stocking. 

You exhaled and closed your eyes as you felt his fingers on your nude leg. 

With the left side undone, he placed your leg down and picked up the other, laying it directly on his lap, where you felt his hardening sex under the sole of your foot. “Don’t press down, babygirl.” He said, making a quick work of the last clasp before looking up at you. 

“Good boy. Quick learner.” You said, caressing his face.

He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into your palm. His hands flew to your waist and held you there as he scooted closer to the edge of the sofa, coincidentally pushing his cock into your foot. 

However, his focus wasn’t there. His target was your inner thigh, which he licked elegantly, suavely, before moving his mouth along you leg, gripping the hem of your left stocking with his teeth and slowly pulling at it, making the nylon roll down your leg, until it reached your calf. You lifted your leg for him, bringing your ankle and then your foot close to his mouth. He laid back against the sofa, the black sheer stocking dangling from his mouth as he stared at you and cocked an eyebrow teasingly. 

You giggled and squealed at the vision. 

“I hope my feet don’t smell.” You chuckled. 

He pouted. “You never really smell.” He said after letting the garment fall from his mouth. “Really. Your sweat never smells.” He said accompanying your leg down and picking up the other. “And I’ve made you sweat a lot. I would know.”

Again he grabbed your stocking with his teeth, tugging it harder this time, since it looked stuck to your skin. With your assistance, he pulled it all the way down, this time letting it fall straight away to place a kiss on the curve of your foot.

“You’ve got the prettiest little footsies.” He murmured. “They’re babylike. So soft. So small.”

“It’s your feet being exceedingly big. I’m medium sized.” You replied, placing both your feet on the floor.  

“Wow.” He said, staring at you. Now he had time to study the deep red silk slip you had been wearing under your dress, with its delicate white lace applications on your chest and on the lower hem. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

You giggled, embarrassed before pulling a cocky move, slipping your hands under the silk gown and hooking your thumbs into the sides of your thong, wiggling your hips as you pulled it down and bent to Namjoon’s waist, tucking the accessory into the waistband of his sweatpants. 

“Now you’re the luckiest.” You said, grinning at him mischievously. 

He simply raised his eyebrows, mouth wide, perfectly still for a couple seconds before he leaned his head to the side, looking away, his lips curling up in the smallest smile, making eye contact with you and shaking his head. 

“Don’t think I forgot you being forty-eight minutes late.” He said, leaning forward as you placed your foot on his knee, parting your legs just enough to let him sniff at your wetness. 

“But Santa, dearest, I’ve been a good girl all year.” You said, placing your foot down again and pressing your hands to your lap, bending one knee slightly and letting your body twist a little, side to side. 

You looked like the sweetest, cutest little girl in Namjoon eyes, playing coy, acting shy, feigning innocence and conquering him with all your little charms. 

“And you’ve already brought me my gift. Wouldn’t it be cruel to take it away?” You asked, furrowing your brow and pushing your lower lip forward in the most adorable expression.

“Take your gift, then, darling.”

Your face sparked up, and you turned quickly, bending over to snatch your package. 

Of course Namjoon, with predatorial reflexes, leaned forward to sink his teeth into the round curve of your ass. 

You squealed and stood quickly, a bit surprised. “Joon!”

He simply wrapped his arms around you middle and placed you across his lap, making you sit there, your bent knee offering him the magnificent curve of your hip as he began rubbing the side of your leg. 

For a moment, your eyes closed and you snuggled into his warm, strong chest. “I’m sorry, I used your lotion.”

You sniffed him and melted, rubbing the side of your face against his shoulder. 

“You’re so… mhhhh.” You moaned, speechless.

His chest rumbled with a deep, silent laugh. “You like it, babylove.”

“I love you.” You replied, looking him in the eye.

He kissed your forehead sweetly. “I know, babylove. Open you gift, princess.”

You kissed him on the cheek, his dimple making a brief apparition before you focused on the ribbon, tugging at it gently, using your nails to undo the knots. 

“It’s Lace’s doing. The package.” You said, noticing the small details she always inserted on her special orders from the atelier. You had seen her fabricate the small treasures yourself. 

Namjoon snorted in surprise. “It is.”

“Is it lingerie?” You asked, beaming up and looking at him.

“No, Vixen, open your present.” He said, slightly frustrated as you took your time. Sometimes dealing with you could be a true test of patience for him. Still, he loved you more than everything. And dealing with a brat like you required patience. His best assets in taming you were patience, brains and ruthless gentleness. The more you lost your cool, the more he became icy in his stubbornness and determination. 

Your brow creased with curiosity as you ripped off the paper. The box underneath was plain white leather, designed like a jewellery box, but more curious, especially once you spotted the double crosses on the lid. 

Could it be…?

You looked at Namjoon and lifted the lid. 

Inside, the case was covered in black silk, and right there, laying on a small pillow,  you saw the fanciest, most elaborate toy you had ever set your sight on. 

“You like it, sugardoll?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your temple, looking at your face, studying your expression and trying to read your reaction. 

“Daddy?” You asked, turning to him, tilting your head to look at him properly. 

“Yes, doll?”

“Why was there Lace’s signature package on it?”

“I had it commissioned through her. She knows the artist.” He explained. “She made the package since I’m helpless at those.”

“You had it commissioned?” You asked, eyes wide in amusement.

“For you, yes. A candy cane for my sugar doll.” He explained, moving your hair out of your face. 

“Thank you, daddy.” You replied, politely and gratefully. 

“It’s okay, my love.” He said, his hand still rubbing your outer thigh while his free palm moved to your neck, his index finger moving your chin towards him, his lips landing on yours chastely. 

“It’s really, really pretty.” You said, moving your stare back to the box. 

“It was made for my pretty girl.” He said, running his nose against your cheekbone. “Would you like to try it?” 

You nodded.

He grinned. “Then I want you over my knees, little vixen.”

Obeying, you kneeled on the floor, the sofa low just enough that Namjoon’s thighs didn’t press painfully against your belly. 

“Are your knees safe, babygirl?” He asked, turning your face towards his. 

“Yes, daddy.” You replied obediently. 

“Good girl.” He praised you, taking the case from your hands and gripping the toy in his palm. 

He tried to relax and keep his erection from becoming too much of a bother. That could and would wait.

Placing the case down, he moved the toy in front of your lips. “You know what to do, little fox.” He said. 

Just like that, without even needing his command, you lolled your tongue out, covering the glass candy cane-shaped dildo in your drool with long, wide licks. A string of saliva fell on his clothed thigh while he observed the quick work of your tongue lapping at the tip shaped just like that of an actual cock. 

“You look so lovely, my little fox.” He said, caressing your hair off your face, fixing the mother of pearl hair-comb that held back your long locks from your face, holding it with two fingers, so delicately, trying not to break it as he pushed it back into your hair. “I can only imagine how many people were drooling for you tonight.”

You looked at him while he rubbed the tip of the toy against your mouth, your lips naturally parting and wrapping around the glass, becoming even fuller and plumper. 

He could barely resist himself as he looked at you, laying there, with your wide, innocent eyes, your lashes fluttering like feathery little wings, and your mouth, so dirty and sinful and absolutely lascivious. 

He yet had to understand your pure-depraved ratio. It was something he felt but couldn’t explain. 

And most of the time it was not one, nor the other that set him off, but rather the combination and absolute divergence of the two.

You bobbed your head slightly, still staring at him, and for a second he thought ‘what if it were not a toy, what if it were another man? What if i were holding him while she took him in her mouth, and she kept her eyes on me?’

You saw his nostrils flare, his chest expand, his whole posture becoming even more magnificent. 

You pulled the toy off your mouth. You bit your lip. “What are you thinking?”

“If it was another man in your mouth.” He admitted, caressing your ass through your silk slip, the smoothness of the fabric making the weight of his hand glide freely on your lower back before he lifted up the garment, exposing the curve of your ass, your slick folds. 

He massaged your naked skin, extremely glad that he was wearing rings only on one hand.

“I don’t want that.” You said, as soon as he made eye-contact with you. 

“What, Vixen?”

“I don’t want another man. Ever.” You said, and it wasn’t a praise, it wasn’t a lure, and it wasn’t flattery. “I only want you.” You said, your hand wrapping around his ankle as it was the only part that you could hold on to, his hands busy and your palms too small for his thighs and calves. 

He rubbed your ass a couple times. “Daddy would never allow anyone else, babylove.” His hand cupped your heat, his palm laying on the seam of your butt while his middle finger found your clit easily. He felt your wetness spread over his middle finger, coating it as he drew it between your labia. “You and I have something special, little fox. It’s only ours.” He kissed the top of your head. “You trust daddy?” He asked, his expression warm as he addressed you. 

“Yes, daddy.”

“Daddy will slip his finger in now, babylove. Would you like that?”

You nodded, again, “Yes, daddy.”

Slowly he drew his middle finger inside, one knuckle at a time. 

You purred as you felt him draw out slightly and turn his wrist, his digit finding your cervix and drawing its outlines. 

“Joonie...” You murmured, opening your mouth and stretching your neck to reach the toy. 

He toyed with you, placing it before your mouth and pulling it away just as your lips skimmed the material, repeating the taunt a few times, grinning as you turned and glared at him. 

“What the— Oh! Fu—!”

You said, ready to scold him but changing your mind as he added a finger inside, Shutting your mouth mid-swear. 

He thrusted his fingers hard. “I have told you many, many times, that when you’re naked in front of me you must never, ever swear, little one.” And he punctuated each word with a crook of his fingers, adding another as he murmured, very slowly, ‘little one’. 

You whined around the dildo, frowning as you writhed over his knees. 

“What do you say, Vixen?” He said, removing the toy. 

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Good girl.” He replied. “Do you think you’re stretched out enough for your toy, babygirl?” He asked, massaging his fingers slowly and delicately inside you. 

You nodded eagerly. “I want it, please daddy.”

“Such a polite little thing.” He cooed, removing his fingers, letting them hover over your ass, while he teased the glass tip over your slit, rubbing it up and down, letting the first inch in. 

“Oh, Joon—”

“Easy, darling.” He said, rubbing his thumb against your tailbone, keeping his wet fingers off your skin, trying to keep you as clean as possible while also trying to comfort you. 

“It’s big.” You said, digging your nails into his ankle. 

“It’s not that big, Vixen.” He said caressing your spine and letting the dildo sink into your heat while you hummed, focusing on every ridge of the toy, the spiraling swirls imitating the candy cane giving you a completely new sensation. 

Namjoon bent down to place a small kiss on the mole on your asscheek, sinking his teeth around it. “You have the most incredible butt in the whole universe, little thing.” He said, placing another small kiss on it. “So damn beautiful.”

“Daddy...” You cried out once he fed all of the shaft into you, leaving only the handle to hang out. 

“Careful now, baby fox.” He said as he gave the toy a slow twist, just like he had with his wrist before, twisting the hook of the handle toward your front, letting it brush against your clit. 

“Oh my god, Joon.” You whispered. 

“Relax, baby.” He cooed, raising his upper body and bringing his forehead to your temple. Next he brought his wet fingers to your lips. 

It felt obvious for you to open your mouth and let him place his fingers on your tongue. 

“Can you taste how sweet you are, ____? How fucking sweet your cunt tastes?” He asked. You let your tongue slither and slide through every crevasse between his fingers, where your taste hid best, and then you set your target on simply sucking, making sure that his fingers came out clean, only drenched in your drool. 

“I can never part from it.” He murmured, choosing that moment to take his digits away and turn your face so his tongue could caress your lower lip and entangle with yours, trying to steal the taste of you from your mouth. 

“I’m never letting another man have your mouth. Taste your sweet, precious pussy. Feel how fucking good it feels to move inside your tiny body. My pretty doll.” He praised you and reassured you possessively, his thumb rubbing your lips. 

“Daddy?” You called innocently.

“Yes, baby.” He replied, dragging his slippery fingers against your ass seducingly. 

“Would you please spank me?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him. 

He raised his eyebrows before he wore a lopsided smirk that made his dimple pop up. “You’d like me to?” He asked, his voice decisively happy. 

“If you want to?” You replied, crossing your arms over his thigh and laying your head there. 

“Shall we go for sixteen, babe?” He asked, considering that he wanted to simply arouse you before he moved on to his actual goal. 

“Okay.” You replied, knowing that you could do better, but acting smart and restraining yourself from wanting more, not knowing how it would feel like with the toy.

“Count them for me?” He asked, patting your head, moving your hair aside. 

You nodded obediently before he lifted his hand, your eyes shutting, waiting for him to hit you, just before you felt his hand land on you softly, his stomach moving with a silent laugh after he tricked you. 

You pouted and looked at him and just like that he delivered the first smack, making you howl, your inner muscles clenching and moving the dildo just enough for it to tickle your clit.

He kept touching your hair as his hand pressed the toy into you. 

“One.” He said, pinching your ass, inviting you to count. 

He went on blow after blow, your ass slowly losing sensitivity to the rough impact of his thick rings on your skin. He got rougher at around smack four, when usually he gave you a bit more time before actually going at it hard. Anyway, a small part of your brain, not commanded by arousal and pain, understood and related to his urgency, especially considering how long he hasn’t been acting on the rock-hard cock begging for attention inside his sweats. At hit number nine, you realised his pattern, and how religiously he was sticking to it: smaking your ass, rubbing it for ten seconds, pressing the toy back into you after your inner muscles had pushed it out with the sudden stimulation of his spanks. And repeat

From number twelve, he went all out, trying to give it to you exactly the way you want it and need it. Harsh, merciless, torturously good. 

“Sixteen,” you called, exhausted as he fixed the toy inside, your ass burning under his touch, his other hand laying on your head, caressing it like you were nothing short of his pet. 

“Are you okay, babylove?” He called, bending to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. 

“Yes, just...” You took your time. “It burns a tiny, tiny bit.” You said, trying not to worry him. 

And still he freaked out. “Okay, would you like your cooling gel? Cold pack? I tried to go easy but a—” 

“Stop worrying, big bear. I’m okay.” You said, patting his leg in a reassuring way. “But there’s something bothering me a little...”

“What is it, babe?” He asked, cupping your cheek, ready to reassure you. 

“What if instead of running away to grab my lotion, you just stayed here and used that fancy candy cane to make me cum?” You said. “I’m so close, I just need you to touch my clit a little, please, daddy!” You tried to convince him. 

Your hand stretched back, spreading over his beautiful chest and sliding down towards his crotch. 

Lovingly, he caught your hand in his, stopping it over his chest. “Anything you want, precious.”

He kept your hands trapped to his chest, keeping it still and grinning at you mischievously once you tried to slide it down toward his abs. However, the other one moved to your ass, his upper body leaning on it as he blew cold air on it. “I’m gonna twist it around,” he said, placing his hand on the handle and pulling it out just enough to turn the handle toward your ass. He brought your hand down, catching the other one too and placing them on your back, putting your wrists together, quickly grabbing the red satin ribbon you had unwrapped from your Christmas gift. 

“I’m simply going to tie it up like shoelaces, Vixen. No fancy business, I promise, but don’t tug at it. Do you understand, baby fox?”

“Yes, daddy.” You replied, staying still as you felt the delicate material against your wrists, his fingers making a quick bow out of the ribbon. 

“Is it okay, ____?” He asked, his voice telling you that it was Namjoon and not daddy talking to you. 

“Yup, all good.” You said simply. 

“Perfect. I just want you to cum as soon as possible, Vixen.” He said, getting to work between your legs. “Like this?” He asked, placing his digit at the apex of your labia, but needing your guidance in finding your clit. 

“Just a bit to the left.” You said. “My left.” You added, and he followed with microscopical movements, knowing he had found the right spot when he slid a tiny fraction downwards and you mewled his name, squealing. 

“There it is,” he said, wrapping his free hand around the handle of the dildo and thrusting with small movements inside you, making sure that you were still wet and that he didn’t hurt you. 

“Keep going with both.” You said, your brow furrowing. “I need...”

“Need to make it wet, sorry baby.” He said, moving his finger away from your clit and putting it in his mouth, tempted to slide it in with the toy, but too worried about messing up your climax. He immediately found your clit again, toying around it a little before finding the spot that made you tug at your wrists and arch your back, your hips starting to move on their own accord. 

“Like that, Vixen. Take what you need, baby.” He said, his arm a bit uncomfortable at the angle as he thrusted the toy inside you; nevertheless, he kept going, determined on seeing you come undone. 

Which happened, finally. Your mouth opened in a strangled cry before you pressed it to his clothed thigh, suppressing a scream. 

“That’s it, baby fox. Feels good?” He asked just as you writhed, trying to escape from his digit on your clit, quickly pushing you into overstimulation. 

“Too good.” You replied, turning your head to the side. “Stop, please.”

“You know the word, Vixen. ‘Stop’ ain’t getting you nowhere.” He said, feeling his dick twitch as you begged. 

“Mint.” You spoke softly into his leg, escaping his wicked ministrations. 

His hand moved away from your sensitive spot. 

“I want you.” You murmured. “I’m close, but I want to be near you.” You looked at him with your eyes barely open, your breath wild, your heartbeat wild against his leg. “Not like this.” You called, wiggling your fingers. 

He tugged the toy out, placing it on top of the ripped paper of the package not to mess the sofa, then pushed it out of the way. His fingers tugged at one of the strings, careful not to jam the knot. Soon your wrists were free and he helped you on your knees, raising your torso. 

“Easy, love.” He said, twining your fingers together as you stood up, making sure that you didn’t get dizzy by standing up too fast. 

Soon one of his hands let go of yours, his forearm wrapping behind your back and pulling you into him, making you kneel on the sofa. “Straddle my thigh, babygirl.” He said with a low, rumbling timbre. 

“Gonna mess your fancy Santa slacks.” You said, smiling confusedly. 

“We can wash them for next year.” He replied, his skin burning as your front connected with his. He pressed your hand into his, against his chest, pulling you closer as your wetness connected with his strong thigh. 

“I’m already close.” You said, nuzzling into his neck, under his jaw, kissing the small mole. 

“Really, uh?” 

“You stopped when I was on the edge, before, after the first.” You said, parting from his throat and looking for his lips with your eyes closed, your hips already rolling back and forth on him. 

“You’re a vision, babe.” He said, hitching your slip dress up, so he could look at your mound, at your hips, riding him as you ruthlessly chased your pleasure. “You were close close, uh?”

You nodded, sucking his lower lip into your mouth, his left hand sprawled over your left asscheek, gripping it and helping you ride him. 

“Yes,” you sibilated as you felt his nails sink into you. You arched your back even more, your movements turning into small circles once you felt his quadricep flex, your clit connecting fully with the satin of his trousers. “So good. I need— I love your thighs.” You said, rambling helplessly as your free hand went into his hair, tugging it gently and letting your fingers slide down, with a delicate scratch of your nails, running around his neck and jaw and touching his cheek, parting your face enough to look him in the eye, waiting a few seconds for your gaze to focus on him. 

“Mhmh,” he said, smirking, helping you quicken your pace. “I love you, babe.”

You nodded and tipped your head back, pleasure rolling down your spine, pooling at your core. 

With your throat right in front of his face, Namjoon bent forward, his lips zeroing in on the point where he could feel your pulse and focusing there, sucking and nibbling at your skin while your mouth opened in a whine that quickly turned into a thin mewl. His nails clawed at your ass, squeezing it tighter now that you were deep into your high.

He kept his mouth at your neck, a deep bruise blooming on your skin, parting from you only when he felt your hips slow down and halt. 

“It was the prettiest sound you’ve ever made on top of me.” He said, bringing your joined hands to his lips and kissing yours, his other hand letting go of you, soothing the skin he had manhandled so thoroughly. 

Your hand toyed with the messy locks of his hair before sliding down to his front, touching his skin feverishly while he hugged you to him.

You were tempted to stay in the warmth of his embrace as you kissed the skin of his pectorals. 

“I have a Christmas gift too.” You murmured, trying to untuck his face from your loose, wild hair. 

“Stay here. Ride me.” He said, his forearm flexing and squeezing you to his front. 

“Want you to open it first.” You said, nipping at his nipple, which convinced him to let you go. 

You quickly stood up and took a couple steps toward the Christmas tree, dipping your arm in and wincing as you felt the small synthetic needles prickle your arm. 

“You hid it in there?”

You looked at him and nodded, feeling for a small box with your fingers, cheering once you found it. 

You retracted your arm as quick as possible and sauntered towards him. 

“I didn’t do a nice package,” you explained, embarrassed. 

“What…?” He said as you kneeled between his parted legs. 

“We said stuff. On our trip.” You said, remembering your quick getaway. “But it was mostly you who did the talking.” You continued, looking down. “Now it’s my turn to speak.” Your eyes met his. “I’m gonna make an honest man out of you, someday.”

His lips turned into an ear-to-ear grin, 

“I’m gonna love you as much as my small body allows, and my heart will stop the day I stop loving you. I’m gonna give you a home.” You said, getting emotional as you saw a tear slide down his cheek. “And I’m gonna give you children.” You stretched to dry the small silvery droplet rolling down his face. “I’m gonna make a dad of you.” You said, parting from his face only long enough to open the small box. “But first I will introduce you to my parents.” You said. “My fun relatives and my boring ones too.” You looked at the thick dark wooden band lined in black tungsten. “All my annoying colleagues.” You arched your brows. “And the ones I like much better.” You broke down as you imagined what would come next. “I’d walk down the isle dressed in white for you.”

“Yes.” He said, not even letting you finish. “Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes, ____.” He was crying shamelessly by now, sliding down to the floor and hugging you to his chest. 

“I’d walk through hell with you. Hell would feel like heaven with you.” You said, sobbing. “And heaven would feel like hell without you. Marry me, Namjoon.”

“Yes, baby.” He said, kissing your forehead and your lips with both your faces wet with tears. “Put that damn ring on me, princess.” He said, parting from you and giving you his right hand. 

Completely excited, your hands trembled as you extracted the wide wooden band, put down the box and placed your hand under his, your forefinger and thumb sliding the ring into his finger. 

“You’re shaking, little fox.” He said, hugging you to himself, his eyes studying the ring as you disappeared into his chest, his chin propped on top of your head as his eyes perused the dark wood, protected by a thick layer of lacquer.

“I mentioned to my parents that I’d like to introduce you to them.” You said, shyly. “In January. As soon as you’re done with the shows and everything. I told them I would like to have dinner, all together.” You said, looking up at him. “We didn’t like… Choose a date or anything. I told them we could have dinner, a weekend or another.”

“I’d be honoured.” He said, smiling at you gently. 

You stared at him in silence for a couple seconds. 

He closed his eyes, steadying himself for what you were about to say, knowing that it would very likely be something completely inappropriate. That’s how you deal with stress. 

You licked your lips and giggled at his expression. You knew it so well. 

“Is it the wrong moment to say I want my fiancé to ram my stomach with his huge, thick, enormous and delicious cock?”

“You’re fucking filthy and adorable. Up,” He said, holding you by the waist as he helped you stand up and climb his body. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck and he held you up with his forearm while his hand dipped into his sweatpants. You mouthed at his jaw. “Please...” 

He groaned as he entered you slowly, making you slide down and onto him. 

“Feels perfect...” You whimpered as he held you still, breathing through his teeth. 

“It will feel even more perfect while I fuck my fiancée stupid on our bed.” He said, making his way to your room. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

“Is Santa gonna cum in my chimney?” You asked with an amused expression. 

He shook his head in disbelief and then wore a small smile. “Gonna stuff you like a stocking.” 

You squealed and giggled, “Merry Christmas, indeed.” 

[ladykittenfair]

Tagged by the fantastic @up-sideand-down - thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

44

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

631,933

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? Including crossovers:

Compilation of FFVII

FFXV

Legend of Zelda

Marvel Cinematic Universe (specifically the Avengers)

Sailor Moon

Star Wars

Threads of Fate

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

To Be Human

Dog Whistle

The Snowball Effect

It’s Not a Game

Party of Five

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do! No shade thrown to people who don’t / can’t but for me, that’s part of the “community” aspect of fanfic. I love hearing about people’s thoughts and feelings about things I’ve created. And I’ve made some of my best friends through fanfic interactions.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I... don’t really do angsty endings? XD But if I had to pick from any work it’s probably The Ballad of Crisis Core. That’s a poem, however, so I guess the angstiest fic would be Picking Up The Pieces, because it’s canon compliant and you know it’s a false hopeful ending.

7. Do you ever write crossovers?

I do! I’ve got... two now, I think! They’re fun.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nothing horrific? But definite bullying.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don’t know that anything I’ve done solo counts as smut. There’s some very tame M/M stuff later on in To Save the Future...

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, probably more than once honestly. It’s hard to keep track of these guys.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have, on a couple occasions, and I’m hoping to do more.

12. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Oh man, you can’t do that to me. My ship feels are a revolving door, it’s not “all time” it’s “flavor of the day” - Ardyn (FFXV) & Genesis (FFVII) in a crossover parent-child ship is one of the newest ones. Vincent and Veld (both FFVII) as either a romantic ship or a brotp are also amazing. One of my oldest ships is Valenwind (Vincent / Cid from FFVII) and then I have a couple people to blame for Lazard/Reeve (FFVII) being such a dynamic ship so don’t make me pick.

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I... think it was DBZ? It was certainly the first I actually posted for.

14. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

How can I pick just one of my babies??? I love them for different reasons! In order of age:

To Be Human - an older favorite (can you believe it’s been four years since that was finished?) but a favorite because it was just... such an achievement? It was my first real long fic, and yeah, it took me three years but dangit it was done and I am so proud! And you can see me improve as a writer over the process. i learned so much. Would I rewrite it before continuing it? In a heartbeat. But I remain so proud of it.

Dog Whistle - this will be chronologically my second longfic, it’s WIP but getting closer to the end, and it was not supposed ot be this long damn it. But in this one, I took everything I’d learned in TBH and put it into practice. I really feel the quality of writing is just higher here?

And then, not individual “fics” but series -

In Spite of Destiny (currently posting To Save the Future) is a FFVII/FFXV crossover fixit I’m doing with @wandererriha and it owns my heart. It was another “what if?” that got out of hand and I just love it and the ships - platonic and romantic both - so dang much.

And then I just started posting Stand By Me (Let Us Defy Fate) with it’s first fic, To Live in Expectation, but I’ve been writing the series for the past three months and holy crap I knew I loved Ardyn but I didn’t realize I loved Somnus and Gilgamesh until now, not to mention Aera and also the toothrotting fluff that is Aera/Ardyn. It is also a shameless fix it that may not go where you think it’s going. But it’s a good thing, I promise.

OKAY so! I’m supposed to tag some people, I think? @wandererriha, @thegeeksqueaks , @vorpalgirl , @razziecat , @greenjudy , @yuzukimist aaaaand @secret-engima ? No pressure, only if you want to!