#they could've made her so complex.......

[wisteriasymphony]

@mirrorroad horror actress emilie au is definitely doing something right with her character because like. regardless of how it presents itself i feel like emilie as a character desperately needs to be framed not as a loving sacrificial mother but as a woman who is both terrified and terrifying in her own right.

I really haven't seen anybody take the broken miraculous disease as something scary in Emilie's case, and it's sort of treated more as a tragedy for those in her life to deal with rather than something she was probably fighting with for fucking years. You could do so much with that! Have her grapple with the fact that this child of hers has essentially doomed her to a slow and painful death; There's this particularly amazing conflict you could have between her possibly feeling resentful towards Adrien for slowly killing her and her loving and cherishing him that could be a metaphor for post-partum depression*! We could have her relationship with Gabriel deteriorate over misunderstandings of what the miraculous was doing to her!

Also, it feels like a huge disservice for Emilie to only be seen as "Perfect Dead Wife Trope". Imagine instead Adrien's last memories of his mother being of a haggard, sickly woman with bone-thin hands, mumbling words and phrases to herself that Adrien didn't fully understand, staying silent for days on end as the disease ate at her. Imagine if he remembered his mother constantly being on-edge and paranoid of something, floating about the halls of their mansion like a ghost, tracing images in the wallpaper. Imagine him remembering doctor after doctor visiting their house only to be screamed at by his dying mother when all their prescriptions and recommendations inevitably did nothing to keep her alive.

*Of course, PPD might be a bad direction to go in and this scenario might be a misrepresentation of it, I'm not a mom so I would not know either way.

[persefoneshalott]

thinking about how they could've ruined madalena's character so many ways in galavant but they didn't < 3

[peachypizzicato]

listen, side order is. a fantastic dlc! a fantastic gameplay experience! its great! i love getting more little pieces of world building and character building n shit!!

but i gotta be honest. the writing (both in the dlc itself and in media that has come after) has really started to ruin pearl and marina as characters for me and that makes me awfully sad

[anotheruntitledsong]

i did like the hidden palace but (SPOILER if anyone hasn't read it?) i'm genuinely so annoyed at how Arbeely is handled like... I wish i could be sad but i'm just fucking irritated. I was overly invested in him and that's def why but i just feel like they did him dirty

[crushedcoffeecups]

okay but imagine being a student of Saiki Kusuo's class. how fuckin weird would it be?

there's this guy, Saiki, that you don't know very well, but seems to be completely average in EVERY way. like, concerning average. you genuinely know nothing that he likes or dislikes or is particularly good or bad at. the only thing that sticks out about him is his weird hair clips and his tinted glasses. oh, and all the people that surround him

the weird, big, loud guy that no one really likes is his best friend. he basically follows Saiki around. one time Saiki made a completely to scale statue of him for a class fair.

the kid with a hero complex that is constantly going on about some shadow organisation and fantasy world is also his friend. the one that rips all of his clothes and always wears bright red bandages over his arms. he also follows Saiki around like they've been best friends since childhood. sometimes he talks about the both of them being soldiers in some army.

one day a psychic medium who can see ghosts and guardian spirits transfers to your school. the next day you see him hanging off of Saiki. what is it about this guy that attracts all these people? he doesn't even seem to talk to them. he's apparently the vice president of the medium's occult club.

the perfect dream girl of your class that everyone loves is weirdly obsessed with him. constantly trying to pair up with him in class. they've been seen on multiple dates together and members of the kokomins seem hate him. you're pretty sure they tried to kidnap him one time. he doesn't even seem to like the girl.

the over-enthusiastic class president that everyone respects is also his friend. you're pretty sure Saiki doesn't play any sports, but apparently he joined him on a tennis camp over the holidays. you heard that he hit a tennis ball so hard he sunk a boat.

an ex-delinquent joins the school, and immediately tried to be friends with Saiki. within a week he has joined the large group that follows Saiki around. one of your friends apparently saw the two of them taking motorcycle lessons.

the poor girl in class, the one with a dozen jobs who's constantly searching for food? yeah, she's friends with him too. one time you walk past a cafe she works at and see him inside, talking to the owner. what does he have to do with the cafe? and why was she wearing a maid dress? there's rumours in the school that the both of them took shady clinical trials over the holidays.

also, the girl who has a new crush every week gets weirdly into him for a while. you see her try a bunch of classic cliches to try to win him over. none of it works, but she still hangs around him for some reason.

a super rich guy shows up to your school and demands to date the beloved perfect girl. no idea why, but Saiki seems to some part to play in the weird love triangle. later on, you see Saiki and his friends visit the rich guys house.

a fortune telling gyaru joins your school, insisting that Saiki is her soulmate. the two are polar opposites, yet seem attached at the hip, along with that spiritual medium for some reason.

another new transfer (why does your school get so many transfers?) who never seems to shut up insists on following Saiki around. apparently they're childhood friends? they don't seem very friendly.

that famous actor, the one who is in everything on tv? you see him yelling at Saiki one day. something about a sister? you don't have any idea how they even crossed paths in the first place

on a random school day you overhear some of Saiki's friends talking about their trip to Britain together. did they really travel that far for just a weekend?

one day you see Saiki walking around with a young man with a weird headband. he looks familiar somehow. you could've sworn you've seen him on some science program or something.

you've seen Saiki walking around plenty of times. he walks everywhere it seems, and gets to places at a pace that is logically impossible. doesn't he have a motorcycle license?

his parents seemed perfectly ordinary when you met them, if a little too lovey-dovey. how is their son so different?

the dude never seems to change his clothes. obviously he does, seeing how they never get dirty or damaged. you guess he just wears the same thing on repeat.

you see him out and about with a little boy. probably babysitting. the kid keeps calling him by the name of some superhero.

the school brings in a magician one day. he greets Saiki like an old friend and calls him 'master'. you had no idea they knew each other, or that Saiki liked magic.

you've only known of this guy for a year, yet it seems like so much longer. it feels like too much has happened for the school year to have not ended yet. when did all those people transfer again?

feel free to add to the idea!

[ssahotchnerr]

hey i tried to see if requests are open but can’t see anything, so hungover!reader x hotch? 🙏🙏

remedies

cw; fem bau!reader, drinking mentions, hangover talk and symptoms, fluff <3

There was a brief moment of peace when you stirred. Being pulled from such heavy sleep, a moment of solitude, before you met consciousness with excruciating pain. Regret was the next sensation to sweep through your body, until your awareness vaguely focused elsewhere. You either heard footsteps nearing, or it was the repetitive throb in your head.

Aaron had a key to your place and he had let himself in. You hadn't answered any calls or texts, and he was partially worried (he had known you were going out the night prior, and did return home safely). His concerned look turned to a sweetly pitiful one as he saw you lying there, hazily blinking up at him.

"Hi sweetheart."

"Aaron?" Your head rose, your voice hoarse as it exited your lips, your dry throat to blame. You cursed your hangover for dulling the usual excitement whenever you caught sight of him. "What're you doing here?"

"We had brunch plans."

Your brows scrunched in confusion, as well as your eyes as they attempted to adjust to the light. "What time is it?" You could've answered your own question by peering at the clock besides you, but you didn't dare turn your head. The more you moved, the worse.

Aaron checked his watch, moving his jacket sleeve to view it, "Half past noon."

At his words, your eyes widened. The sudden shock interfered with your head, causing the pounding to only elevate.

"Oh god I'm sorry." You facepalmed by use of your pillow, the momentary darkness enhancing the dizziness behind your eyelids. "I'm awful."

"I wouldn't go that far." Aaron teased lightly as he sat on the bed besides you, his hand finding your back and sliding his palm along it softly. "Crazy night with the girls?"

"Penelope tried- created a new concoction of drinks." A wave of nausea hit you from the memory, your stomach swirling. You scowled in disgust, "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Aaron hummed in response, another pitiful smile tugging on his face as you groaned. He felt bad you felt bad. He's had his fair share of hangovers, sure, but never one at the hands of Penelope.

"I'm never drinking again." With all you had left in you, you forced your head to lift to defeatedly meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. I did have an alarm set. Or... I think? I must've slept through it."

"No it's okay, I figured. Knowing them, we shouldn't have made plans for the following morning." He flashed you an understanding smile, his hand stopping and giving you an affectionate tap.

"Probably a good idea."

"I can take an accurate guess, but how are you feeling?"

"Like the jet ran me over."

"That bad?"

"Penelope called her drink moonlight mojito blitz." Again, you nearly gagged at the thought, Aaron himself made a face. "Or something of the sort. I don't know, it had a complex name one way or another."

"Lucky for you then, I have more simply named reinforcements ." Aaron offered, gesturing to your bedside table. "Gatorade, water, ibuprofen, which I'm judging by the strain on your face, you should take now." He reached for the container, dumping the tablets into his palm. "Down the hatch."

You weakly sat up against your pillow, holding out your own hand. As you did what you were told, he produced the Gatorade.

"Drink up."

You winced at the words, "I'm having flashbacks."

He laughed softly, the sound enough to soothe any hangover, or plainly anything. "Sorry, but I'm serious. You need the electrolytes, I won't allow dehydration if I can help it. You'll need to eat something too, but that can wait at least. Until-"

You finished for him, taking a generous sip. "Until the room stops spinning."

"That's right," Aaron offered you another small, closed lip smile. "Can I get you anything else?"

You peered up at him, playing up the hopefulness in your eyes. The visual was for effect really, you knew he would implement anything you asked, as he always did. "My favorite pillow?"

"Sure honey, where-"

"You." You grabbed his wrist, weakly tugging him towards you and trying your hardest to not let your grasp drop despite the downward, heavy pull. "You're my favorite pillow."

Aaron slid besides you easily, and before he was thoroughly comfortable or settled, were you clinging onto him. Your face buried itself into the skin of his neck, while one of your legs lazily draped over his waist. He molded just as equally into your body too.

Your head was still spinning - part of you feared it would never cease - but Aaron's contact allowed some sense of stillness. Like you weren't going to be picked up and somehow carried away; he would ensure you were close and grounded.

"Is this really all you need?" Due to your close proximity, you could feel his voice vibrating through his chest. "Can't I do anything more? Is the room too warm? Too bright?"

You shook your head, tightening your leg's hold on him. There was a playful tone in your voice, "I may need you to hold my hair back later."

"You say the most romantic things to me." Aaron chuckled, his lips tugging into a smile before pressing his lips atop your head. He quipped back gently, "Looking forward to it."

[riotinyellow]

"Why hasn't philza said anything?"I think tommy is on Will's side since he hasn't made a statement"

You are insufferable treating the ccs like fucking corporate entities

"Where is the statement ? Where is the statement ? Where is the statement ? Where is the statem-"

Shut up

Not everything has to be handled through a grand public disowning.

"Believe all victims" is a valid statement, but it is also one that can clash with people's emotions, believe it or not human relationships are complex as fuck. Most of these content creators were closer to will than shelby. It is natural to want to hear your friend's side even if they are the accused even if you believe the victim. It is natural to be worried you're taking the wrong side. It is natural to wish these accusations were simply not true. Some people are too afraid to burn bridges too soon, I certainly am. Is that "enabling" ? I can't imagine if my best friend got accused of something like this, how I'd feel, or how i would act.

And when the creators did release statements you fuckers accused them of saving face. You know what? I agree with that. These statements weren't necessarily for shelby they were to shut you up. All their support could've happened privately in the way they am sure wish, but no, you had to start bad mouthing people calling them enablers and such (you need to stop using words and watering down their fucking meanings). Look at how people were talking about niki and are talking about tommy.

Just because some ccs can and will be loud and proud (rightfully so) doesn't mean everyone else is loud about that shit. Aimsey is an example they are obviously closer to shelby, so they obviously released their statement much earlier. It makes sense, but you can't be sitting here calling tommy, philza and niki "enablers" because they didn't shout it from rooftops. How many of them want to keep it private ? How many who did say something publicly wanted to keep private but couldn't because of your harassment ?

I can't hold anything against these ccs, and you shouldn't either. None of them bashed shelby or demonised her in any way publicly. and it is all we need to know. If shelby felt unsupported by the lack of some ccs public announcements, that's for her to decide and dm them about it, not you.

[aakeysmash]

college!sukuna lives literally next door. you live in one of those apartment complexes where you rent a room and then have a common kitchen, bathroom and stuff with your almost-roommates inside of a bigger complex made of apartments just like yours, for students only.

if it wasn't for his 9 year old brother yuuji, who casually lives across from your room (wasn't this place for college students?) and is the literal definition of a ray of sunshine, you'd hate his guts. sure, he's hot for a guy who looks like he's failing half of his classes and makes sure you hear every single one of the girls he brings into his room at night, but he's still a major pain in your ass.

"where the hell do you think you're going?" he tells his brother, leaning on his door, arms crossed. the child is rushing to put his shoes on and zipping his sweater up.

"yn said she's going to take me running!" he responds grinning, tripping on his own feet from how excited he is before softly knocking on your door, all while sukuna looks at him raising one eyebrow.

"i'm starting to think you like her more than me, brat," he grits out just as you get out.

"oh he does, he just doesn't want to hurt your feelings by saying it," you rub in his face without sparing him a glance. he huffs and rolls his eyes, really wanting to punch you in the face. you ignore him and smile at yuuji, getting at his eye level.

"ready? whoever gets tired last will be the first player tonight in mario kart," you say wiggling your eyebrows.

"deal!" he squeals happily before running out the door. you know he's going to wait for you, he's a good kid, he's not going to run away. he's more mature than any 9 year old should be.

"y'know, if you needed some cardio you could've come in my room," sukuna tells you coming closer and looking you up and down. you have this cute set on that is making him salivate, but he still maintains some kind of distance.

"on my dead body, itadori senior," you lightly push him out of the way and go back into your room to get your bag.

"come on, i'll even push your head in the sheets so as not to look at your annoying ass face," he remarks, and you shoot him a dirty glance. he flips you off.

"can you talk about something that doesn't make me want to rip my ears off?" you mumble while searching for your house keys.

"i can talk about how i'll break your neck if you don't bring back my brother in two hours, if you want," he says, looking at you from the doorway, bored.

"he still likes me more."

"when you get home there will be another lock, bitch."

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Sirius Black Appreciation Post

Time to celebrate Sirius Black's birthday by highlighting my favorite canon facts 🥳

Sirius is tall. We're talking at least 6'.

He's intelligent AF. He became an Animagus at 15. He charmed a Muggle motorbike to fly (Arthur couldn't do that with a car, Sirius did it in his late teens, latest at age 20). He escaped from Azkaban. He got a cat to order a racing broom. My man is brilliant, no doubt about it.

Sirius has a complicated relationship with his mother and it is *not* merely hatred. Note that he did not destroy his mother's portrait, or slash it as he did with the Fat Lady's. I'm confident that he could've figured out a way to destroy it or otherwise get rid of it, but he doesn't. His refuge is in his mother's old room with Buckbeak. There's something very complicated in his relationship with his family that can't be labeled as simple loathing. Sirius may have run away from home at 15/16, but his background 100% shaped him and left its mark on his personality and psyche.

Sirius was good friends with Lily. The letter from Lily to Sirius is great proof of that - it wasn't James who wrote that letter, but LILY. Sirius was smiling and genuinely happy at Jily's wedding.

Sirius is emotionally driven, and lashes out *with good reason.* When he goes after Wormtail the night the Potters died, it's because Harry is taken away from him. He has nothing to hold him down - and even gives his motorbike to Hagrid. When he tries to get to Wormtail in PoA, he slashes the portrait but doesn't harm a single boy in his search for the rat. When he goes to the Department of Mysteries, his focus is on Harry. These are good reasons, even if it puts him in danger.

Sirius has a great sense of humor. He puts little Santa hats on the decapitated elf heads. He chases pigeons as Padfoot just to make Harry smile. He sends a good luck note with a muddy paw print. He is scathingly funny, when he derides Peter's hero worship of James in Snape's Worst Memory. He's bitter and sarcastic. We love to see it.

Sirius is a baby boomer. He was born in 1959. "Ok, boomer," is an applicable retort.

Sirius is not misogynistic. He does not hate women. He is often kinder to women than men. He helps Ginny up in OoTP. No matter how angry he gets at Molly, he is never, ever physical with her (unlike the way Sirius is with snape, who he does get physically aggressive with). He is kind to Hermione. He had a great relationship with Lily. Even in the end, his last words to Bellatrix are 'you can do better than that.'

Sirius does not have a canonical love interest.

Sirius is willing to challenge Dumbledore. This is an important point - with so many people deferring to Dumbledore's judgment, including Remus, the Weasleys, and Harry - Sirius will challenge him and his decisions. He may not get his way, but Sirius has the personal strength and confidence to challenge one of the greatest wizards of all time.

Sirius was great with animals. Crookshanks and Buckbeak are prime examples of this.

Sirius is deeply flawed: he can get very intense. He can be rash, even if he has good reasons. He can be bitter to the point of hurting others ('the risk would've made it fun for James'). He can be cruel and condescending (my robes have enough filth without you touching them/wormail will piss himself with excitement). He can be callous (wishing it was the full moon, sending Snape on a potentially deadly adventure). He's a hurricane of deep, complex emotions.

Canon Sirius would obliterate fanon Sirius.

Happy birthday, Sirius. You would've loved James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna. You'd have had the time of your life at Hinny's wedding. You are an absolute king.

[glisten-inthedark]

Why it wouldn't make any sense for Byler not to be endgame (Applying only logic to the equation)

Ok, I know that some people might be concerned and I won't sit around and pretend that I'm not. I will, however, point towards a few things that, to me, would mean that everyone in that writers room had terrible lapses in judgment if they ended up not making Byler canon so buckle up because this will be a long post.

Will's misbilief and how he believes he will never find love.

At one point, Will claims he will never fall in love but we'd later learn that surprise surprise, we can't control our hearts.

But it's not that Will assumes he won't find love, it's that he assumes he's not worthy of it. He stated that he sometimes feels like he's a mistake, and that the only person that makes him feel like he isn't is Mike.

So the subtext that we have is that he doesn't believe he'll have a happy ending, he doesn't believe he'll get to find love and be happy. So say the Duffers decide that Byler won't be endgame, what exactly was the purpose of this entire plot line? Torture a kid some more?

Like seriously, he's been through so much already, why do this?

Because doing gives Will, the character we're supposed to root for, a depressing ending. A ending that tells him: you'll never be happy, you're doomed to be forever in love with someone that will never love you back. You don't get your happy ending, you don't get to have what you want.

But not only that, this would be the message the show would be sending the viewers: So one of characters has been through the ringer, has foud out he's gay but oh sorry, he will never be in a happy relationship or find that actually he can be happy. And that's it folks, thanks for watching our show.

2. What Will wants and needs.

I noticed there's this tendency of people downplaying Will's love towards Mike. Maybe because he's young and we have the tendency to assume that the feelings with have around that age aren't lasting, or maybe it's something else, however we need to point out the fact that Will loves Mike Wheeler.

This isn't a crush, this isn't limerence or lust. No, this is love. The writers made a point of showing us that Will loves Mike truly and selflessly. They made a point of showing us that Will already assumes his feelings are and will always be unrequited, so what he wants/what he needs it's to have Mike back in his life.

He was willing to push Mike towards El out of love for him and for her, because he wants Mike to be happy and he doesn't think he could ever give him that, nor does he think Mike wants Will to be the person who gives him that.

The writers showed, through their writing, that Will's feelings are real, are everlasting and unshakable. That Will himself doesn't think he'll ever get over Mike (El - I - Need you and she (I) always will).

So whether you like it or not, Mike is the love of Will's love. So if the writers present some random person as the love interest (which they could've easily done considering they gave us Argyle and the fact Will was in California which is far more accepting than Indiana) it's never going to be enough, because that's not who Will truly loves.

So again, it would send the message that he'll never be truly happy, because the person that makes him the happiest wouldn't be by his side.

3. We have no actual clue about what's happening to Mike

We can chalk it up to lazy writing, or to a character that's all over the place, or maybe, just maybe, to a Mike Wheeler that is complex, that has layers and dimensions.

I don't think it's a coincidence there has been a shift in Mike in the last 2 seasons, because if you pay attention, we have nothing of his inner thoughts. The entire focus of his character has been about El, and maybe that's no accident.

Maybe we don't know what's going on because he's hiding something? And whenever we are presented with facts about him, we don't have all the information.

I already talked about how Mike focusing on El makes sense, because when Will disappeared Mike had to deal with a lot and when Will got back, all these things he buried tried to get back to the surface.

People seem to have a hard time understanding Mike, or acting under the guise he doesn't care about Will or that Will deserves better or seem to think the writers dropped the ball on his character, but maybe there's a reason?

Maybe Mike is a lot harder to grasp? Maybe he's the boy who watched his best friend bike away and not come back? Maybe he's the boy who thought his friend was dead (even for a while).

Perhaps he's the kid who so desperately needed to protect and shield and comfort his friend because nothing in the world was right if his friend was hurting?

Maybe Mike is the boy who doesn't really feels what he should for his girlfriend? Maybe she kisses him and he's confused, doesn't close his eyes because it doesn't feel right?

Is he the boy who was so afraid of what it meant to care so much for another boy, that he decided to compartmentalize so he felt less? Because losing Will once almost destroyed him, and sometimes it's easier if we do the pushing away ourselves?

Maybe he latched onto El because it was easier, it was safer, because it's right to like girls and not boys.

And maybe the Mike of season 2 already had an inkling but didn't know for sure, but when posed with the same thing in a different time-frame was hit with another, deeper meaning.

If we can feel empathy for Steve, or if we can acknowledge Max's trauma, or if we can understand Joyce's one track mind or Hopper's temper or Jonathan's distant behavior, we should grace a child/teen that has no one to turn to with the same grace.

[franzkafkagf]

How do you personally think they massacred his potential? I fully agree, by the way. He could have and should have been a fan favourite. He's one of the most tragic characters I've seen, honestly. He's interesting and definitely the most complex character of the season, but the lack of catharsis the writers gave him for his issues is anger inducing.

the concept is just so good to me. the prince with no sense for duty or responsibility, who did not want the throne but feels forced to take it anyways. he takes the throne to save his family and yet, he watches all of them die anyways.

At first, the prince refused to be a part of his mother’s plans. “My sister is the heir, not me,” he said. “What sort of brother steals his sister’s birthright?” Only when Ser Criston convinced him that the princess must surely execute him and his brothers should she don the crown did Aegon waver.

that's just amazing. i cannot stress this enough; it's so profoundly tragic and sad. i don't hate everything they did with him in the show; they have many good ideas actually. him rejecting his valyrian heritage, him being kind of a failure at everything, him being desperate to my accepted/loved... this is all profound and good stuff! but i feel like his tragedy has been squandered by how the writers decided to frame the story. i could go on about how rhaenyra and alicent are potrayed so blandly in this show in order to make their embarrassing gender essentialism theme going but this is about aegon so i won't go into that.

aegon reminds me so much of theon greyjoy. maybe it's just me, but in my head theon and aegon start the story in similar places. they're spoilt, vain and indulgent. then they get their "calling", for aegon it's the crown. it's the first time in his life that he has a reason to get out of bed, to actually do something good for once. also, him believing his father actually wanted him to take the crown and it hurting him when otto scoffed at him for believing it? AMAZING stuff. I love s02xe02 to bits.

because [my father] didn't like me

theon's calling is to finally get his father's approval. balon, obviously, has no fatherly affection towards him and theon kind of knows it, he still betrays the only person he ever truly loved. and what happens to theon? he loses everything, absolutely everything; he is stripped of his pride, his dignity, of his entire identity. i've never seen a character go through something theon went through.

and i see parallels to aegon here! aegon is quite literally made and broken by the weight of a crown he never wanted. his story is more tragic than theon actually; the thing that destroyed him was quite literally forced on him. it actually kills me to think about it. he rushes into rook's rest because he feels powerless; because everybody around him shows him not even one ounce of empathy. his baby is dead and no one seems to care!

and he fails; of course he does. he is BETRAYED by his own brother, the brother he thought was loyal to him. this is just such good stuff my head hurts. his arc after the fall of KL is so amazing too, i'm desperate to see him go on his adventure to dragonstone and actually grow into the type of man that can turn rhaenyra's own people against her.

now, what could've been done to make his arc better in the show? well. let's start with not making him a rapist. i cannot stress this enough. the single worst choice was to introduce him as a rapist. it's actually crazy to me. it's so easy too... just make him like theon; make him promiscuous, make him vain, make him spoilt! they should've introduce his adult version with a drunk sex scene actually. set the tone for his character from the beginning.

he is not suited for the throne; he seeks pleasures, doesn't care for his valyrian lessons (based!), he drinks all day... like, what was the POINT of making him a rapist? what was it? -> the answer is obvious.... they didn't want us sympathizing with him. they were scared of people liking the villain. why is this hbo show scared you might have people sympathizing and pitying the "villain"? are you okay? YOU HAD ONE JOB. DEAR GOD.....

so with that said; make his motivations clearer. have him scream at aemond after jaehaerys dies, change up the godawful brothel scene to actually drive the point home; he is still grieving and his way of grieving is lashing out and drinking himself half to death! focus on his alcoholism and his rashness. I actually rewrote the brothel scene here

make us understand him bettter; there are moments like the "do you love me?" or all of ep 1 and 2 of season 2, but it's too little, too late. the writers in general have such a hard time with writing characters with actual qualities. all of them are so empty and act like robots. only aegon, criston, daemon and rhaenyra (in episodes 1 and 2 at least... then we went right back to robot mode lmao) show moments of actually being a character with rich inner workings. i hate it so much.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

"Pragma(tic) Love"

Pragmatic; meaning "dealing with things sensibly and realistically".

Pragma; one of the eight ancient Greek words for love, meaning "an enduring type of love". A passionate and committed form of love.

Paring(s); LADS Xavier x reader

Word count; 12,398 (GEEZ–)

Rating; 18+ for mature and sexual context; and swearing

Themes; childhood friends to lovers, unintentional flirting, reader isn't an idiot (sometimes), dumb humor, inspired by the webtoon "Childhood Friend complex"

Notes; some dumb humor, Xavier being out of character, kissing, poorly written sex (I haven't written smut in so long), vaginal penetration (finger and p), I could've done more but my Tumblr mobile app is lagging at 12k words–

Characters included; Tara, Jenna, Rafayel, Yvonne, Greyson (mentioned), Jeremiah, anyone else is just random names for other characters!

|| a part of the "tropes d'amour" mini-series ||

You are a rather naive and impulsive woman, no one would argue with that. You knew what you wanted and you were never embarrassed to admit that. Always head-strong and never thinking about the consequences of what comes afterward. You have, also, never been in a relationship, but you can remember the first time you really wanted to be in one.

It was a few years back when you were in middle school. Fifteen and highly impressionable. You were staying the night at a friend's house with a couple of other girls and they decided to have a group viewing of some x-rated videos. Even at fifteen, this was something you never thought of so as you watched with a mix of horror and intrigue, your friends eagerly laughed and made different comments about how hot the actions in the videos were. You, however, were more focused on the kissing scenes. You enjoyed how passionate they looked and you wondered if a kiss would be as nice as it looked. To this day, you barely remember the rest of the video. Only the kiss scene that left an impact on you and made you wish for a relationship, just to have a kiss like that.

Though, back in the present day at twenty-one, you had bigger things to worry about. Like college work and the new gossip your friends had every week.

For example, today, you and your group of three other women were all sitting down in a coffee shop, talking about the different guys at your college. “Oh my god, have you seen how hot Rafayel is? We have two of the hottest guys at our college and I don't see how neither of them are dating anyone,” Yvonne says with an over-dramatic sigh as she tilts her head back. “If I'm honest, their hands are what I'm more interested in,” Jenna murmurs under her breath with her chin resting on her hand. “Hands?” You take a look down at your own as you ask and Yvonne slaps her hands down on the table. “You don't know about hand sizes?! If they have big hands they have a big d–” “Yvonne, we'll be kicked out if you're too loud.” Tara puts a finger to her lips as she looks around anxiously.

“Alright, alright.” Yvonne pouts and sits back down. “Anyway, as I was saying, our college has two of the hottest guys I've ever seen. I'm surprised none of them are dating someone. I'd definitely volunteer in a heartbeat.” “So…I was going to ask this earlier, but who's the second guy?” You ask and tilt your head to the side. “Xavier, of course!” Yvonne looks at you as if you're crazy. “You know, the 6 foot something hunk who is in the engineering department?”

Tara covers her mouth with a hand to hide her laughter as your group leaves the café with your drinks in hand. “Xavier? Are you serious?” You scoff with a hand on your hip and your drink out to the side. “Doesn't he give off, like…delinquent vibes or something? You should really have higher standards.” “Y/n…” Yvonne trails off, pointing at something behind you and you raise a brow, “What's wrong? Can't I talk shi–” You feel pressure on the crown of your head and when you look to the side, you see someone dip their head down to take a sip from your straw. “Ugh, this tastes like shit. You're still drinking crap like this?” You spot the silvery-blonde sticking his tongue out in disgust before you groan and hit him on the head.

“Xavier, what have I told you about sneaking up on me!?”

As the two of you yell and pull at each other's hair, Yvonne takes a nervous glance toward Tara. “They…” “They've been friends since childhood,” Tara says with a small laugh, rubbing the back of her neck.

You don't exactly keep it a secret that you're friends with Xavier. The two of you are just from two completely different departments. His being engineering and yours in liberal arts. You did, however, want to start putting some distance between him since no guys approach you. They always assume you're dating Xavier, even if you correct them, so if you ever wanted a relationship you'd have to distance yourself from him…but that's easier said than done since your mothers were friends.

Your mothers were pregnant at the same time, having met during a pregnant yoga class and coincidentally moved in next to each other, so naturally you and Xavier were practically raised together. You’d even go as far as to say he's like a brother to you.

Back in class, you're utterly exhausted. You rake your hand through your hair with a sigh, holding your face in your hands until you feel someone tap your shoulder. You look up, confused, before you smile up at him, “Hey, Rafayel. What's up?” “You seemed a bit upset, so I was gonna ask if you needed help with something,” the purple haired upper-classman says, his head tilting to the side. “Actually…I need some research files for our essay and I don't have nearly enough time to get everything together.” You collect your things and stand up from your chair, “but I'll figure it–”

“You can borrow my USB,” Rafayel offers, slinging his back over his shoulder. “We'll just have to stop by my dorm.” “Really? Thank you so much. You're a life-saver!” you clasp your hands together. Your facial expression looks a lot brighter, compared to a few seconds ago. “Can we go now? I'm really excited to get started on this project.”

The two of you leave your classroom and head off to his dorm. You were done with your classes for today, but you were a little worried you'd be bothering Rafayel during his off time. Though, it doesn't seem that way since he offered to help you and you don't want to overthink anything.

“I'm sorry if it's a bit messy.” He unlocks his door before opening it. A…bit messy was an understatement. His floor is littered with paint tube lids, a few stray clothing items, a colour pencil or two, there's a spot on the rug from a charcoal pencil. It's extremely messy, but it's the room of an artist so you weren't really sure what to expect. As you step deeper into the room, you're unsure of where to sit until Rafayel points to a spot in front of his bed. “You can sit over there. I have a few USBs so it might take a little time to find it.” He chuckles, seemingly unfazed at how dirty his room really is.

You tentatively sit down and hug your knees to your chest as Rafayel sits next to you with a handful of USBs. As he looks through them, your eyes can't help but be drawn toward his hands. His…hands..That reminds you of something. What was Yvonne trying to say earlier?

“If they have big hands, it means they have a big di–” A big…oh.

Rafayel's hands were big…

You pause your train of thought with wide eyes. “Y/n?” The upper-classman asks, waving his hand in front of your face. You blink a few times, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you quickly stand up and grab a random USB. “Thank you so much, Rafayel, but I've got togonowbye!!”

You don't even give him a chance to respond as you run out of his room. You pull out your phone to quickly shoot a few texts to Xavier.

🩷: “HEY I HAVE A QUESTION”

: “ANSER ME”

: “WHAT DOES IT MEAN IF A GUY HAS BIG HANFS??”

:“XAVIER, I SWEAR TO GOS”

Your stupid, dumb, idiot friend isn't responding, so you decide the best thing to do is barge into his house. You take a few labored breaths, having run all the way through his house and to his bedroom door, before you enter without even bothering to knock. It's not like he could be doing something important, right? Nahhh.

The moment you step into his room, you notice two things. One, he had your messages with your profile picture up on his computer monitor…and two, he has his left hand wrapped around his dick.

“Why the hell is my picture on screen!?” You blurt out the first thing you can think of in your panic as you quickly look away with a red face.

“It's not–” Xavier quickly turns away from you before noticing that your picture was, indeed, on his screen. He scrambles to his feet to fix his pants before words spill from his lips, “It's not like that! I was just…getting off and you were getting on my nerves from all your messages and I noticed you had a new profile picture, and I wasn't even looking at your picture when I was doing it anyways!” His face and ears are a deep shade of scarlet, and you shoot him a scrutinizing look.

“Look, I'm not going to judge you but…” Your lip curls up as you can't decide whether you're disgusted or flattered, but the expression quickly leaves your face as you notice his eyes watering. Is he…crying?

“I already said it's not what you think…”

For the first time in forever, your mind was dead silent. You were a little too focused on the redness in his face and the desperation in his eyes. You needed to leave. Now.

“I'll talk to you later, but seriously don't forget to lock the door next time!” You say your words way too fast, almost unable to understand them yourself, and dart out the house as fast as you can. You only stop once you made it to the gate outside, holding a hand to your chest with reddened cheeks. What the hell just happened?

The next day in class, you're beyond zoned out. You're not sure what to think of the whole situation…but you clearly saw it. His…well yeah. You could faintly picture his hand, fingers that could just barely wrap around his girth-

You smack your hands against your cheeks, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “Jesus, Y/n! Are you okay?” Tara asks with a small laugh, putting a hand on your shoulder. You groan and tilt your head back before quickly turning to face her. “Okay, so I have a…story. Alright? This isn't about me. It's about a uh– a friend.” “Uh-huh…and what happened with this friend?” Tara raises one of her eyebrows as she looks around the classroom.

“Actually, let's have this conversation outside.” She stands up, picking up her bag before she takes your hand.

Once outside, you sit down on a bench and take a deep breath. “Okay so, this friend of mine…she has a friend she's known for a long time and she ended up seeing his..” you trail off, not wanting to say the word, but you have to say something to make any sense, “..his junk. She saw his stuff on accident and there was a photo of her on his screen-”

“Wouldn't it just make sense to apologize and act like nothing happened?” Tara questions, honestly a bit confused since it seems like it would be common sense to just apologize about it. “But my picture was on the screen. Wouldn't that mean he's into me or something?” You don't even notice your slip up and Tara doesn't care since she already knew this story was about you. “It could mean that, but how about you just hear him out and apologize?” The woman rubs her temples. She loves you to death, but sometimes you can be a little dumb.

“I guess I could do that– hold on, I'll be right back!” You spot Xavier in the distance, quickly putting on your bag before you chase after him. “Xavier!” You shout and the silvery-blonde turns to look at you for a moment. Then, he takes off running as well. “Hey, I need to talk to you!” You yell after him, continuing the chase but you were honestly tired at this point. He clearly wasn't slowing down anytime soon. “Why are you running?” You feel sweat dripping down your temple and he shoots the same question back at you, “Why are you running??”

“Because I need to talk to you!” Your breath was coming out in heavy pants and wheezing, so you probably look a bit crazy at this point. “Well I don't!” “Dude, stop–” As you chase after him you bump into another student. His cold brew coffee spilling all over the front of your white t-shirt. You notice Xavier immediately stops in his tracks.

“Damn it–” You curse under your breath before you turn toward the male student, “Hey, I'm sorry about your coffee!” “It's fine, what about your shirt? You could just give me your number and I could get it washed..” His eyes were clearly trained onto the front of your shirt and you made the horrifying realization that your black bra is visible. Suddenly, a bag is pressed against your chest and you feel a hand grab your wrist. Xavier sighs and begins tugging you behind him as he walks, “Let's go.”

“Go where?” You ask, clearly confused and he shakes his head, squeezing his hand around your wrist, “To the sport's center.” “Dude, you're hurting my hand!”

Xavier takes you to the sports center's locker room and is looking through his locker. “So..what're we doing here?” You stand in the corner with his bag still clutched to your chest. You can hear him let out an audible sigh, “Do you want to walk back to your dorm with your shirt like that?” “You could've just let me borrow your bag..” you murmur with a pout, but Xavier runs a hand through his hair, “You can see everything through the back too, idiot.”

“Thanks..” You finally say after a moment of silence before you set his bag on the floor to look at your shirt. You tug at the soaked fabric with a finger, your nose wrinkling up at the cold feeling. You should probably take it off before it gets your bra and skin all sticky..You pull your shirt half over your body, but then pause because you realized you almost took your shirt off with Xavier in the room–

The two of you have been together practically since the womb, so you couldn't even count how many times you bathed together when you were younger. Key word: younger. But now??

“Hey– don't turn around, Xavier. I already took my shirt off.” You sheepishly laugh, keeping your soiled shirt over your chest as you notice his ear tips turning red. “I– why–” But he can't finish his sentence because someone comes into the room. You backpedal into a locker to hide and listen to Xavier tell the other student that he'll put the guy's stuff away. Once he shoos the guy out, you assume he locks the door behind him.

“Y/n, where'd you go?” Xavier calls out as he walks back to where you are and you kick open the locker with an embarrassed smile, “I'm…stuck.” You hold your hands out for help while keeping your legs against your chest. Your so-called friend laughs at your predicament, about to make fun of you, but then his gaze flits from your face to the swell of your breasts. He quickly shakes his head and clears his throat. “Geez, you really are something,” he sighs before grabbing your hand to pull back with all his strength.

“Ouch, Xavier, that shit hurts– woah–!” You're suddenly flying out of the locker and you land on top of Xavier with your hands on either side of his head. Just as you're about to get up, you hear the door knob jiggling and you jerk your body down as if trying to hide. “Oh shit– you locked the door, right, Xavier?” You ask in a panicked whisper, before realizing you could feel heavy breaths against your bare skin. You turn your gaze down and your eyes widen as you see Xavier's face buried in-between your breasts.

You quickly scoot backwards with your hand over your mouth. “I am so sorry, Xavier…”

Your best friend runs a hand down his red face with a long, drawn out sigh. “It's fine! No, really, it's fine.” He waves his hands before he tosses a shirt at your head. “Now, put that shit on.” The shirt smacks you upside the head and a hiss slips from between your teeth. “Well, I take back my apology now.” You murmur under your breath as you pull his shirt over your head. Though your gaze is drawn to his toned stomach. His shirt must've rode up during the fall and he never pulled it back down. That reminds you of something…

When you and Xavier were in middle school, you remember an old classmate joking about the two of you dating. While you both reacted in disgust, you clearly remember Xavier saying he'd never see you as a woman and then when the friend asked, “You never know. What if one day, you start feeling like she is?” Xavier replied with, “If that happens, I'm going to take my balls off. Both of them.” You were clearly disgusted by this and, albeit, a little offended so you spit back a jab of your own, “I’ll shave my head.” “Dude, I put my balls on the line!” He laughs, “You gotta match me. Or else…are you afraid you'd fall for me?” “You son of a bitch!” You grab Xavier by his hair, “You really think I'd fall for you when you find so many ways to piss me off?? The only emotion I feel for you is rage. You hear me!?”

“Y/n?? Yo, earth to Y/n.” Xavier waves a hand in your face and you shake your head before a book, from the shelf you're leaning against, falls to smack you atop the head. You rub your head as you stand up, then you clear your throat and hold your hands behind your back. “Hey Xavier?” “Yeah?” He glances toward you with one brow raised and you sigh, “I wanted to apologize for leaving like that yesterday. It wasn't fair to not hear you out and to make assumptions on my own like that. That’s what I came to tell you.”

After a few moments of silence and a shocked expression from Xavier, you can't take it any more and you start hitting him on the back, “Seriously, what's gotten into us? All this awkwardness between us just doesn't feel right! Let's forget the whole thing and go back to being normal again, yeah?” With each hit, Xavier says an “ouch” but you keep at it with a nervous laugh. “Anyway, bye!! I gotta go work on a project.” You leave him behind with a dumb expression on his face.

Once back in class, you have no time to dwell on everything that happened because you're busy with an animation project. You're working together with Tara, Yvonne, and Jeremiah. You and Tara are animation majors while Yvonne and Jeremiah are in design. “Do you think we can finish this in time?” You groan, tiredly running a hand through your hair before you get back to sketching. The four of you talk amongst yourselves before Yvonne points out, “You're so good with drawings, Y/n…I can only do stick figures. I didn't know we'd be drawing people.”

“Well, I prefer using a pencil.” You yawn, holding a hand up to your mouth. “I'm awful with 3D software.” Your eyes are a bit blurry from all of your yawning and you squint at your drawing. “What did the muscle look like on this arm?” You murmur. Your pencil completely stops its movements as you were suddenly reminded of Xavier's arm trying to push you away and the bright blush on his face from before.

You really need to do something to stop thinking of your best friend like this…but his abs– No, just because he's got chiseled abs and a nice face…and a pretty voice…Stop– He's just your friend. Your childhood, wombhood best friend Xavier.

Maybe…you could go on a group date? No, that probably wouldn't help much, but you could go just to meet new people!

You shoot Yvonne a text from the bathroom saying that you're going back to your dorm and that you want to be included in that group date tomorrow. You try to emphasize that you just want to go as a potential friend, but she's clearly not listening after that.

You weren't really too thrilled when Yvonne had asked you about the group date, when you guys were out shopping for lingerie– she was going on a trip with her boyfriend, Greyson, and knew it was time. Whatever that meant. You had also bought a lingerie set, just a basic dark red set since you thought it was pretty.

Though, you really hope none of the guys would actually see you as a potential romantic partner, because while you wanted to get those images of Xavier out of your head– you really didn't want to lead some poor guy on.

Tomorrow comes sooner than you expected and it's Saturday now. You're sitting in front of a mirror while Tara applies some light makeup to your face. She's only curling your lashes, adding a shade of lip gloss that matches your skin, and maybe some eyeliner. Nothing too dressy since you're just going to meet new people– even if Yvonne doesn’t seem to understand that.

“So, what made you decide to go on this group date? When Yvonne brought it up at the lingerie store, you didn't seem interested.” Tara points out as she styles your hair. “Well…I wanted to expand my social circle–” “Look up, I'm applying mascara,” Tara cuts you off and you pause before looking up. “Like this?” “I take it back– do what you were normally doing!” Tara holds back her laughter and gets back to your makeup.

“But yeah, like I was saying, my life pretty much revolves around my classes and the dorm.” Once Tara is done, you quickly stand up. “Alright, now let's see if I have anything I can wear..” You muse, popping into your closet before stepping out a few minutes later. “Look, am I overdressed?”

Tara's back is to you as she speaks, “Just dress in something casual. It's a group date, afterall–” Though, she goes silent as soon as she notices what you're wearing. “That's…not what you're actually wearing, right?”

You look down at your red flannel button-up and your blue jeans with a frown. “Is it…too dressy?”

“Too dressy? I–...You're right, it is too dressy. Let me make a few changes.” Tara runs a hand down her face before hyping herself up to create a bombshell of an outfit for you.

“Oh my– look at you, girlie!” Irina, a fellow classmate, exclaims as you step down from the bus at your meeting spot. She nudges her friend, Winona, with an elbow as you look down at your scuffed white sneakers, a bit embarrassed by all of the attention. Tara got you all prettied up, having chosen one of your white turtlenecks, one of her black velvet camisoles, her black sling purse, and a checked skirt that Tara had gotten you a few years back as a gift. Your fingers nervously tugging at the hem of your skirt, worrying that it might be too short.

“You look gorgeous! You should wear that skirt more often,” Winona smiles at you, before grabbing your wrist as Irina continues, “The boys are here already, let's go.”

“Oh, right, I don't think Yvonne told you guys, but I'm only here for–” But you can't finish your sentence as you're pulled into the restaurant. Your phone buzzes in your hand and you notice that ‘Jerk’ is calling you– Jerk being Xavier. You hesitate, wanting to answer, but instead you put your phone in your pocket. Any other time, you would’ve answered, but right now it seems a bit rude towards the others.

“Hey guys!” Irina holds up a hand to wave once you walk up to the table that was seating three other people. You didn't recognize any of them, but maybe it would be easier to make friends that way.

“Hey you!” One of the guys says to Irina and she laughs, “What's up? You should know it's an honor to be set up with design students!” “Hey, PE majors are more popular, okay?” “Ah..Hello!” Winona tries to speak up, not wanting to be drowned out of the conversation, while you didn’t really mind it. You, honestly, almost wanted to just back out and leave, but you decide to stick it out because you could make some friends today. “Come, sit. It's nice to meet you!” The second guy motions toward the table with a nice enough smile. While the other two girls go to sit down, you awkwardly lean over with a small wave, “Hi everyone..”

“Woa–” “H-hello!” Two of the guys speak while the last stays silent, but a smile does tug at the corners of his lips. “What're you still standing there for? Come on, sit!” The first guy laughs and that's when you finally sit down.

You learnt that their names were Damian, Mateo, and Caelus. Damian was the PE major who was talking to Irina. Mateo was the second guy and Caelus was the third one.

“So, now that we all know who we are…let's toast!” Damian holds out his shot glass of soju while you stare down at the cup. You've…never had soju before. You sniff the cup before looking up in surprise as someone asks what you were doing. “Come on, let's toast!” Irina laughs, nudging you with her elbow and, honestly, you felt so drained already. You wondered if you could last the rest of this 'date’. You clink your shot glasses together and, while everyone else downs their drink, you sip on yours. But you get a bit nervous when everyone looks at you expectantly, so you toss your head back to finish it off. Hmm…this is actually really good for getting your mind off of certain things.

A few shots and an hour later, you were drunk– having the time of your life, but drunk. Maybe you shouldn't have drank on an empty stomach.

“Here, Y/n, have some water.” Caelus places a glass of water in front of you before saying, “You're in for a terrible hangover otherwise.” “Oh, You're Caelus, right? Thanks!” You grin at him before taking a sip from the cup. After another thirty minutes of playing around and chatting, Caelus was also a little buzzed.

“Can I ask you something? I hope this doesn't sound weird or anything.” Caelus rubs the back of his neck, nervously, with a small laugh. “What is it?” You were, also, still buzzed and excited about having a new friend. “Um..You don't have a boyfriend, do you?”

You blink in surprise. Oh, right. That was the purpose of a blind date, afterall, but you weren't here for that.

“Ah, me? No, why?” You ask, hoping he wasn't going to ask you out because then that would get awkward really quick. “Well…do you know that seriously good looking guy? He's famous on campus.” “uh..you mean Xavier?” Your eyebrows furrow. You weren't sure where this conversation was going. “Yeah, him! I don't know if you know, but you're sort of famous too. You two are always together and frankly, I was shocked because I had always thought you two were a couple.” Caelus admits and you tilt your head to the side.

Seriously? You weren't aware of that, at all. You and Xavier…together? Half of you wants to vehemently deny it, but there's another part that kind of–

“Don't be silly! They've been friends since they were kids.” Irina laughs, slapping her thigh. Her face was so red, she was probably drunk off her ass. “So…you two aren't together?” Caelus turns back to you, an almost hopeful look in his eyes. “We used to hang out since we were practically babies, that's all. We know and have seen everything about each other.” You shake your head before you pass at your last statement.

Seen everything…

Oh.

You slap your hands against your cheeks to pull yourself out of your inappropriate thoughts while Irina and Caelus are both surprised at your sudden actions. You're now hyper aware of other patrons at the restaurant and how they're shaking condiment bottles, and decide that maybe it’s best to pass out drunk. You grab the soju bottle and tilt your head back to finish it off. The bottle clinks against the table and your forehead on the cool wooden smacks down to join the bottle shortly after.

The table felt so nice, compared to how hot your face felt. You could almost fall asleep. Almost, but the phone buzzing in your back skirt-pocket has you drowsily blinking your eyes and you reach back to grab it. Your blurry eyes scan across the contents of your messages;

💛: “pick up the phone”

: “im @ work”

: "lets get some desert after"

Oh right, Xavier did mention to you last week that he was picking up a part time job…Hmph. Guess he's perfectly fine, even after everything that happened. All while you're trying to make new friends and keep your mind off of it. Maybe you're the problem? That's right! You've got to snap out of it and just act normal like he's doing, but…why can't you do that? Ugh, this is annoying.

A sigh escapes your lips and you feel a hand on your head. “Are you alright?” You hear Caelus ask and you glance over at him. “Doesn't your head hurt?” Now that you think about it…yeah, your head does hurt. Inside and out.

“Everyone else went to get some hangover drinks. How is your head? You hit it pretty hard.” Caelus was clearly concerned for you and that would be sweet– if he were the right guy. “I'm not sure..It does sting,” you murmur, body tensing up as you felt Caelus's hand on your shoulder. Huh?

“Still? Let me see.”

Through your blurry eyes, you can see the man moving closer toward you. Or maybe not. You couldn't tell. Once he got close enough to where you could feel his breath on your nose, the loud clank of a bottle slamming against the table causes Caelus to jerk back. You curiously turn your head to the side, eyes widening because you've got to be seeing things. Right?

“Here are the two beers you ordered.” Xavier and he seems…angry? Upset? Hmm, so this is where he's working.

“Pretty…” You don't even realize you spoke out loud as you drunkenly meet his pretty blue eyes.

“Ah,” Irina exclaims as she stretches her arms up in the air, “That was such a good stroll. I feel so much better…I wonder if Y/n is okay, she had a lot to drink.” “Huh–” Winona quickly taps Irina on the shoulder, “Isn't that Xavier?”

You were still in a daze with your head on the table, but you snapped out of it and sat up so quickly that you felt dizzy. Did you just call Xavier pretty? You really hope you're hallucinating right now. It seems like you still have to get your act together. You look down at the table, contemplating hitting it again to knock some sense into yourself. You close your eyes, ready to slam your head down on the table, but instead of the table, you feel a warm hand on your forehead.

“What the..” You turn your head to the side, resting your cheek on the palm of whoever's hand this is before realizing that it's Xavier's hand.

“Are you drunk?” Xavier asks with a raised brow, “Is that why you're banging your head against the table?” He sighs, turning his head toward the four students, who were waiting to sit down. “How much did she drink?” He points at you as he rummages around in his apron with his other hand. “A-about a bottle and a half? She had soju..” Winona breaks the silence while the others are too stunned to speak.

“Soju!?” Xavier groans before quickly turning to look back at you, “A bottle and a half? Isn't this your first time? Are you out of your mind?” Your friend continues his rant, “Did you forget how you threw up after your first beer? Soju is even worse! Did you brain up and leave you before you drank that shit?? Why can't you learn?” He runs a hand through his silvery blonde hair.

“What're you doing, huh!? You're not my mom! Stop nagging me, I'm having a good time with my frie–” Your whining is cut off by Xavier tapping a cold can against your forehead. “–nds..what's this?”

“Drink this. No more soju for you.” Is all he says and you sigh, grabbing the can as you rub your forehead, “Did you just go out and buy this?” “Of course not, we sell that here.” His head turns toward the door as a bell chimes, signifying that another customer has walked in. “I gotta get back to work.”

After Xavier walks away, you hold the can to your chest. Heartbeat roaring in your ears. “Oh my god, how cute is he?!” Irina whispers to Winona and the other girl shakes her fists, “Even his apron is sexy..”

“Uh…I'm all buzzed out. I'm gonna go get some fresh air, okay?” You stand up, holding the can still, and do your best not to run your fingers through your hair. You didn't want to mess up all the hard work Tara did to fix it.

Once outside, you spot Xavier, who was taking out some garbage. “Hey!” You go to yell at him, but your words fall flat when you notice something sticking out of his mouth. “Are…you smoking?”

“...It's a lollipop.” “Oh..Anyway, why didn’t you tell me you worked here?”

“I did.” He says, dusting off his hands. “Did not!” You puff your cheeks out, trying to remember if he did tell you.

“Why? Are you embarrassed because I caught you acting all girly with some guys?” Xavier lets out a small laugh as he pulls the lollipop from his lips. “Well…Tomboys like you need to play coy to get a date, so I'll let it slide.”

So he somehow got the wrong idea too?

You'd love to tell him he's wrong, but you honestly didn't care at the moment. Instead, you change the subject. “Hey, take this back.” You hold the blue can he gave you back out to him, “You can't just give me this.” “I paid for it, so you take it,” he says as he pushes the can back against your chest.

At your silence, he raises a brow, “You know what? Give it back.” He holds his hand out toward you. “You got me all upset now, so I'll be taking it back.” “What?” You hold the can tighter to your chest, “No way! You said it was mine.” “Come to think of it…Why should I bother? You're too busy partying with guys to even answer my texts.” Oh, now Xavier is definitely pouting.

You quickly open the can and take a few swigs like a dog eating some table-food that hit the floor. “Oh–” Xavier pauses before his gaze squints and he leans forward. “Are you wearing makeup?” “So what? Tara did it for me. What's the problem with it?” You glare at him, immediately getting defensive. “Hmm…you can put makeup on a donkey, but it's still a donkey at the end of the day.” He shrugs as he moves away from you and you punch him in the shoulder, “You wear makeup too, you dick!”

“But I'm clearly not a donkey.” Xavier smiles.

You and Xavier continue to talk for a while, leaning against a green metal fence behind the restaurant. He pulls his phone out from his apron and sighs, “Ah, I'd better get back.” “Woah, how long has it been?” You turn your head to look at him as he puts his phone away once more, “It's been like fifteen minutes? Damn, I lost track of time talking about the beer vomit story.” He chuckles as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Say…Do you like any of those guys?” He asks, thumbs hooked through his belt loop. “Mmh…why?” You could easily tell him now, but you wondered why he asked that. “Just asking.” He shrugs, tapping the toe of his shoe against the pavement. “Anyway, we still on for dessert after my shift?” Xavier reaches down to ruffle your hair and says, “Let me know, but I seriously gotta go back in now.”

After he says what he needs to, Xavier goes back inside and you sigh, putting a hand in your skirt-pocket as you walk back around to the front of the building. “Huh–” you pause as you notice Caelus standing outside as well.

“I thought I'd check up on you since you've been outside for a while,” He easily answers you as if knowing what you were going to ask. “But I was wondering…if we could talk.” He smiles and boy, do you know what was coming. How were you going to let this poor guy down easy?

“So…you and Xavier look really close.” Oh…that's not what you expected. Or was he saying this to lead into something else? “Uh, yeah. We, kind of, grew up together,” You say, slowly, trying to gauge what his next sentence would be. “So you don't have feelings for him?”

Uh. Is this even an appropriate question to ask someone you just met? Sure, it's a good question if you were looking to date someone, but…it still feels weird.

“What?” “I know it's a silly question, but you two seem really close. That's why I asked.” Caelus laughs it off, rubbing the back of his neck. “So that means you're not seeing anyone?” “Well…not exactly, but I'm not here for–” “I'm interested in you.” He blurts out, cutting you off entirely, and you give him a deadpan stare.

“That's…very flattering, but–” “At the risk of sounding too forward, let me ask. Do you want to go out with me?” Your eyebrow twitches in annoyance and you take a deep breath. “Caelus, right?” You plaster the sweetest smile you can muster on your face and tighten your grip on the empty soda can in your hand. “If you'd allow me to finish my god da–” You pause, taking another deep breath before continuing, “–if I could finish my sentence for once, I'm not here to date. I’m not looking for a relationship. I told Yvonne this, but it seems like she didn't give everyone else the memo. I just came here to get out of my dorm room, for once, and make some new friends.”

“Anyway, I'm going back inside.” You clear your throat, after a tense moment of silence and walk past him to go back inside. But you feel a hand catch your wrist. “Y/n–” You jerk your arm out of his grip and turn your head to raise a brow at him, “Hey, did anybody ever tell you that shit only works in k-dramas and romance novels? Don't touch me without my permission. But, now that you've got my attention, what is it?” You cross your arms over your chest and he frowns, putting his hands in his pockets as he murmurs under his breath, “Geez, they always say the worst she can say no.”

“Annnnd that's all the patience I have left to spend on you. Nice seeing you never!” You wave to him as you re-enter the restaurant and go back to your table.

Sure, Caelus didn't seem like a bad person, but the vibes just didn't feel right to you. At all. Honestly, you’d feel a lot better once you got dessert with Xavier.

A few days later, you're chilling at Xavier’s house and eating some leftover cake from that time you went to a dessert café. Your laptop sits open on his coffee table as you're on the floor, in front of it, while Xavier is sitting on the couch behind you. He always liked to watch your work, for some reason. Maybe to make sure you did it right?

You had an empty word document in front of you and you tilt your head back to look at your friend. “Hey, are you gonna work on your assignments too or are you going to watch me like that vampire weirdo from Twilight?” Xavier was mid-bite when he started coughing, hitting his chest because he must've been laughing but choked on his food. “I'll work on it later. What's your assignment on?” He asks, once he's finally caught his breath, and wipes a few stray tears from his eyes. “Ah…it's a report on any classic film. I got a USB of the film from Rafayel, so I'll probably watch that first.” You move to grab the USB from your bag before plugging it in.

“Do you want me to watch with you? I could try and help.” He leans forward, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Uh–” you were startled at how close he had gotten, but you nod your head, “Sure…Huh, it seems like there's a lot to choose from…”

The titles were pretty weird too, but these could just be some indie films. “Animal addiction?” You murmur with a raised brow, glancing over at Xavier out of the corner of your eye and he shrugs, moving his finger to the touchpad to click on it. “Maybe it’s something like the Tiger man documentary?” He questions before both of you go silent.

The film was pretty grainy, appearing like amateur work. This didn't seem like a ‘classic’ film…Then, the camera pans to a woman laying down on a bed. Was she naked?? What the hell is this– a man joins her on the bed and–

“Ooh!” a moan erupts from your laptop. “Ah, yes! Right there!” Wet squelches are audible from your speakers, the sound of skin slapping against skin. “Harder!”

You quickly slam your laptop shut with your face in your hands. “What the fuck did Rafayel give me?” You murmur, face bright red and your heartbeat thundering. “Maybe…it's a risqué classical film?” Xavier offers, trying to hold back his laughter, even if his face was red as well.

You definitely knew it wasn’t a classical film, you recognized it. It was the same one you had seen in middle school!

“He could've accidentally added that to this USB.” You let out a panicked laugh, opening your laptop back up to scroll through the file. “Okay, so maybe…okay, these have numbers and symbols as the name so maybe these are okay?” You quickly click on it and silently take the USB out from your computer before the moans can even start. “...nevermind.”

You run a hand through your hair and rest your head on the couch. “I'm sorry, Xavi..I guess I grabbed the wrong USB.” You sigh, looking up at the ceiling until the light is covered up by Xavier's big head coming into view. No, not that head.

“Xavier?” You question, but he doesn't respond. He leans over you, dipping his head down lower…and lower. Though, you panic and put your hand over his mouth.

“Oh! Uh– sorry,” you quickly say as you move your hands back, holding them to your chest with a nervous laugh as you stand up with your laptop. “Actually, uh Tara– yeah, Tara told me earlier today that she needed her clothes back. You know, the ones that I borrowed! So…I should probably leave and go get those for her!” You clap your hands together, face probably even more red than when that porno appeared on your laptop.

“Y/n–” Xavier goes to grab your wrist, but hesitates. He drops his hand into his lap before he shakes his head. “I understand. Go ahead.”

Huh, why did he do that? He could've just grabbed your hand–oh, could he have heard your conversation with Caelus?

“Thanks, Xavi. I’m really sorry about that! I'll definitely see you later though.”

A week goes by and you finally submit your correct classical film report. You had to sneak the USB back to Rafayel and explain to him that you never even looked at it since you already finished the report. You’d rather not open that can of worms with him, afterall.

While you're leaving your college, you get a text message;

💛: “hey”

: “i got u some food from my mom”

: “come get it or”

: “dont i could eat it”

Oh hell no! If it's his mom's cooking, you definitely want it.

“Hey! I'm here for my food!!” You waste not a single second, having gotten on a bus and ran the rest of the way to Xavier's apartment. It wasn't too far from the school, so you were more than ready to sit down and ea…–

“Holy shit!” You slap your hands over your eyes as you were blessed with the sight of a shirtless Xavier with water dripping down his chest. He was drying his hair off with a towel as he curiously looked over at you. “Hey, you were the one who barged into my house.”

“Why're you naked, though!? My eyes–” You whine and you hear Xavier audibly scoff, “What? So, are you telling me that I can't even shower? In my own home?” Then, after a few moments of silence, you move your hands away from your eyes. Honestly, you loved being over-dramatic. It was like second nature to you. Anything to keep from blushing over your shirtless best friend.

“Forget it. You wanted the food, right?” Xavier points toward his couch. “Wait there, I'll go get my shirt.”

You didn't even realize how quickly you complied to what he said, already finding yourself sitting down not even a few moments later.

He comes back with a white shirt on, grabbing the reusable orange bags and sets them on the coffee table. “So, what's in it?” You ask, standing up excitedly. “Well, you know, only your favourites.” He takes the plastic containers out of the first bag and you rummage through the second one before pulling out a heavy glass bottle. “Huh, what's this?” Once glance was all it took to realize this was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

“Hey, it's hard liquor!” You show it off to Xavier with a grin and he runs a hand down his face, “Oh…great.” As if he knows where you're going with this.

“Put it back. It's probably your mom's. I must've grabbed it by mistake.” He goes to take it from you, but you look at him with a mischievous smile, “Do yoouuu want to try it?” “I– seriously, Y/n, it's your mom's. We can't just–” “I just looked it up and apparently it tastes good,” you tease, shaking the bottle in front of him before you sigh, “but I guess we can put it back…”

“Well,” Xavier perks up at it tasting good and clears his throat, “I mean we could give it a taste.”

The two of you each fill a cup with the amber liquid and sit around the coffee table with your food-filled tupperware. A nice alcoholic beverage and food always go good together.

“Blegh!” You stick your tongue out, nose wrinkling in disgust, “Why is it so bitter? What's the percentage on this shit?” “Hmm, maybe twenty?” Xavier grabs the bottle to see before he pauses, “oh…forty.”

“This shit is way too strong. You got any soda we can mix with it?” Even though you asked, you’re going straight toward his kitchen as if you live here. “Yup.” He leans back on his hands until you come back, mixing some soda into both of your drinks. You take another sip and nod your head, “Do you wanna try mixing it with other stuff?” “Hmm, I heard orange juice is good with it.” Xavier looks up from his phone. He must've googled it. “Yeah! Let's try out a ton of combos and find the best one!” you cheer, holding a fist up in the air.

Then, you pause. “Wait.” You hold your hand out. “First, let me borrow some of your clothes.” “Why?” “Because my clothes are too snug and I'm gonna eat some of my food– annnd I'll probably stay the night,” you say with a shrug and Xavier points in the direction of his room. “Go find something.” He nurses his drink while you change into the smallest clothes he owns.

Even if they're the smallest, they still practically engulf you. His shirt was loose around your body and his shorts were barely holding up around your waist.

“You look like a hobbit.” Xavier giggles to himself before he motions toward the plates on the coffee table. “Anyway, I unloaded some of your food. You’re sharing, by the way. You don't get a choice.”

As you shamble back toward the coffee table, you have to hold up your borrowed shorts. When did Xavier get so big..? Wasn't this shirt supposed to be a short sleeve? It's almost to your wrists…Hmm…

Where's this tingling sensation in your stomach coming from? Parasites, maybe? Maybe they'll go away if you drink.

“You know,” You slur, holding up an empty glass, “This is supposed to be hard liquor, right? Wouldn't it…be better to call it easy liquor since it goes down so easy?” Your body sways and you set your glass down next to the empty bottle of alcohol. “Here we go again. Do you realize how many times you’ve said that?” Xavier hiccups as he points at a plant in his room. Did he think that plant was you? Laughter bubbles in your chest before it erupts from your mouth and you lay onto the floor as you try to catch your breath.

“Hey..” Xavier brushes his hand across your heated forehead, “Aren't you gonna call your boyfriend?” “Eh? What boyfriend?” Your eyes were closed, relaxing as he played with your hair. “Didn't..well, that guy asked you out, right?” “Mmh…yeah, but I said no,” you say with a small shrug.

You raise a brow after you open your eyes and notice Xavier was smiling. “Why're you smiling? You look stupid.” You reach your hand up to poke your index finger against his cheek. “That checks out. Who would ask you out anyways.”

“Huh, are you trying to fight with me?!” You quickly sit up, body swaying from the slight feeling of vertigo as you glare over at him. “What? You know I'm right. Don't you remember, in elementary school, all the kids in our class thought you were a boy.” “And? All of the girls liked to dress you up in princess costumes because you were ‘pretty as a princess’ or did you forget about that?” You jab a finger against his chest.

“What about your last crush? He only realized you were a girl when you had to wear the girl's uniform.” Xavier leans closer, his face flushed from all the alcohol you both had drank. “Look who's talking Mister ‘I won an all girl's beauty pageant even though I was in the audience’.” Your face equally as red as you kept moving closer until your foreheads touched. “Tomboy!” “Delinquent!”

A silence fills the room as your breath washes over each other's face until Xavier closes the gap. You felt his soft lips against yours before he pulled back. “Huh–” You lazily blink a few times, gaze flitting between his lips and his eyes. You both stare at each other for a few more seconds, and then Xavier leans back in.

This time, he doesn't pull away.

Xavier kisses you softly, your body slowly leaning backwards until you're flat against the floor. You felt his tongue lick at your lips and you hesitate for a moment to let him in.

What…were you doing? With Xavier, of all people?

With another swipe of his tongue, you give up on thinking and open your mouth. Your head tilts to the side as the kiss deepens, his tongue dragging against yours. “Mmh–” a noise escapes your lips as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, tugging on it before he goes back to languidly kissing you. His tongue lazily fighting against yours for dominance, but neither side ever wins.

Your hand moves up to tangle in his hair, nails lightly scratching at his scalp. You shift in his hold, your chest lightly brushing against his and that's when Xavier tenses up. He pulls back, hands gripping your shoulders. “Hey…have your boobs always felt this nice?” He asks, looking down at them to see their stiffened peaks through the thin fabric of his shirt. “Hmm…I dunno since you've never felt them before.” You drunkenly tug at the neck of your borrowed shirt to look down at your breasts.

“Wait–” you squint your eyes as you notice something red coming out of Xavier's nose. “Is your nose…seriously bleeding from seeing my boobs?” You laugh. “What are you, a teenager?”

“Seriously, put your head back. It's getting everywhere.” You wipe at it until Xavier scoots back, “Hey stop–” He falls back against the couch, wiping his nose with a thumb. His legs are spread out with his shirt riding up his chest. His firm thighs…

You move a bit closer, your hand trailing up his shirt. “What're you doing?” He asks, stomach tensing up as your fingers brush against his abs. “I always wanted to feel them,” you murmur under your breath. “They're soft…I really thought they'd be firm.”

You poke at his stomach and Xavier groggily looks down at you, “It's because ‘m not flexing.” “ohh, what happens when you flex?” You already forgot what you were talking about. “My abs get hard.” “Hmm..flex it right now. I wanna see what happens.” Your fingers continue to prod and poke at his stomach. “Yo, you listening?” Your nails lightly scratch against his skin and he catches your wrist, “I heard you, so stop touching me…and this time, let me touch you.” His thumb rubs back and forth against your pulse.

“But…no.” You look away from him and Xavier raises an eyebrow, confused, “Why?” “Then…someone would be touching my body..and that's embarrassing.” You pout, cheeks somehow getting even more warm, as you squeeze your thighs together. “Then…it would be fine if I touch you in a way that doesn't make you shy, right?” He grabs your wrist once more, gently squeezing it before his hands dart to your waist. His fingers dance across your body as he tickles you.

A loud laugh slips from your lips and your body jerks around in his hold. “Xavi– wait!” Your body goes backward and you're back on the floor. Your hands push at his chest as your laughter causes tears to prick your eyes. He catches your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head, as his free hand continues to tickle your body. “Hold on–! Let me catch my breath you, fucking–” More giggles come from your throat as you try to finish your sentence, “–you fucking psycho!”

Xavier finally stops, your shirt up to your neck as your chest heaved from your breathing. “Are..you okay?” He asks, slowly, and you look up at him with (happy) tears in your eyes, “After everything you did, do I look okay to you?” You were out of breath, sides still somehow feeling like they were being tickled. “Well…in any case, it doesn't seem like you're embarrassed anymore.” Xavier trails off, his gaze on your bra-clad breasts. His finger slides under the cups to grab your right breast.

“Ah..” you let out a small noise in surprise, back automatically arching to push more into his palm.

“Fuck..” he breathily laughs before he leans his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple. His tongue flicks across the stiffened peak before he nips it between his teeth. “Ouch, Xav..” you wince before a moan slips through your puffy, parted lips as he swipes his tongue against it to soothe the pain.

“Xavi..” your chest felt wet from more than just Xavier's saliva.

“Hey, lift your head for a sec.” You tug him up by his silvery blonde hair and notice his nose was bleeding again. “Again? Are you exhausted today or do you just go wild for breasts?” You sit up to panic over the poor guy, trying to find something to wipe his nose with.

“No..” but his gaze is drawn to your bare breasts once more and you could swear you saw more blood drip from his nose.

Fuck. You needed to find a tissue for him. Why isn't he helping? You glance over at him and can't help but think that he looks kind of cute in a daze like that. Then, you notice he's getting blood on his white shirt. Ugh. Blood stains are a bitch to get off. Uh…

“Ah, seriously…this is so gross but–” you murmur under your breath before you cup his cheek and lean forward. You drag your tongue up his chin and move along the trail of blood. Moving across his lips…but you stop before getting to his nose because that's…just nasty. You weren't licking his nose. You move back and stick your tongue out. “Blegh. I can't believe I did that. You know blood stains– Mmph” Xavier cuts you off with another kiss. This one was more intense than the last. His tongue sliding against yours as one of his hands holds your face by the chin. This kiss was passionate and wet. Saliva drips down your chin and you greedily swallow any that makes it into your mouth.

You turn your head to the side for air and lightly hit him on the back. “You’re getting more blood in my mouth.” You meet Xavier’s eyes but he's clearly gone, out of it. He dips his head back down to kiss you again, gently guiding your body back to the floor for the third time tonight. Your hand grips the back of his shirt as he kisses you harder, lips sloppily colliding and gliding against one another. You feel his hands make their way up your thighs until he's slipping his fingers under your shorts. One hand squeezes your ass, his fingers pressing into the skin.

Your body jerks in surprise as his fingers slowly move toward your center. Legs trying to close on reflex as you felt his middle finger press against your entrance. “X-Xavier?” You manage to choke out, your breath coming out in small pants. “You're so wet…is this all just from kissing?” He asks, seemingly in a daze as his middle finger penetrates you.

Xavier rests his forehead against yours as he presses his finger inside at a slow pace. The digit curling and pressing at odd intervals as if trying to find something. “A-ah..” you can't help the tiny moans that spill from your lips, your hips jerking with every movement from his finger.

“W-wait a second,” you panic as you feel something warm and thick against your inner thigh, and Xavier pulls back for a moment. Your gaze immediately drops to the front of his sweatpants and your eyes widen. “Oh..” “What're you thinking about?” His pretty blue eyes were filled with a hint of darkness, a bit of lust.

You…wanna try it.

“Xavi…do you have any condoms?” You ask, your hands cupping his cheeks to make him look at you. That's when he frowns. “No…shit, do I need to get some?”

Damn it.

“No, it's…fine. We can uh– ah–!” You cut yourself off mid-sentence as Xavier pushes his finger back inside your pussy, a second finger teasing your entrance. “We can still get each other off though, yeah?” He licks his lips before adding a second finger. His hips pressed closer to you so you felt the warmth of his length against your thigh once more. “S-sure,” you hiccup your sentence out as he begins to move both fingers, curling them to press into that spot. You let out a loud moan and roll your hips upward.

A similar moan slips from Xavier's lips as you unintentionally grinded up against him and he grabs your hand, placing it over his clothed dick. “Please?” he asks with a tilt of his head, curling his fingers against your g-spot for good measure. You quickly nod your head, squeezing your head against his length before you begin to rub it.

The silvery blonde haired man continues to fuck you with his fingers, his thumb swiping back and forth over your clit. “Fuck, Xavier!” You arch your hips up with a small whine as you feel something building up in your stomach. Your hand moves against his warm dick, trying your best to jerk him off without going under his clothes, and it seems to be working because he dips his head down to kiss you once more.

“Come for me,” he murmurs against your lips. “Please? Wanna feel your pussy tremble around my fingers.” You felt the thread in your stomach winding tighter and tighter until…

Your body jolts you awake and you sit up in the bed with wide eyes. A dream? No…your sticky, cold panties were telling you otherwise. You slowly turn your gaze to the warm body next to you. How did you both get up to bed?

Whatever. That doesn't matter. You check your phone, quickly silencing your alarm so it doesn't wake Xavier up and you jump up to get dressed.

Yeah, leaving. That sounds great. Especially when assignments can be used as an excuse! You put your pants up before cringing at your wet panties. You sigh, taking them off. Guess you're going commando today…you put the clothes in his laundry hamper and hurry out the door.

Almost a whole day went by and you didn't get a single thing done. You were sitting in a daze for the most part, but now you were reading a mature romance novel. Tara had left a few behind in the dorm so you were distracting yourself with them. Though…they weren't helping much. You were imagining all of the sex scenes in the novel with you and Xavier instead…

You slap yourself and quickly stand up. Snacks. Yeah, snacks could help.

You throw on a jacket and leave the house with your book in hand. You read a few pages as you step into the store, walking straight toward the snacks aisle but stop in front of the adult section. Your eyes scan over a few condom boxes.

If…Xavier had a condom yesterday, you would've had sex, right?

Your cheeks heat up and you shake your head. Were you always this obsessed with sex?

You pick up one of the boxes, looking at it and murmuring, “Ribbed…for her pleasure?” You tilt your head to the side. Would that feel good..? You kind of wanted to know, but you probably wouldn't ever find out. Who would you even do it with? Well…isn't Xavier a viable option? Do you like him? You, honestly, are starting to wonder at this point. You might.

“He might be interested in it…considering what happened yesterday,” you murmur under your breath. Your head curiously turns toward the door as you hear a ding come from someone else entering the small store.

“Oh–”

You really hope he didn't see the condoms in your hand.

You speed walk to the checkout counter, buying the condoms in your momentary panic and drag him outside.

The two of you sit down on a bench in silence.

Maybe…you could ask him now? Or should you say you like him? Would it be rude to ask for sex without even dating?

“So…about yesterday..” Xavier begins and you excitedly look at him, pretending to play it cool when he looks at you. “We both made a mistake because we were drunk…maybe it's best to just forget about it all together–” Though he pauses once he notices the frown on your face. Your head was spinning and your cheeks felt hot. Did you drink today? It definitely felt like you had some alcohol.

Gosh, you're so embarrassed. Why were you thinking he'd ask to do it again?

“Ah…yeah, of course! We'll forget it ever happened. Yup! Just return everything back to normal, okay? Don't act all awkward when you see me again, you hear!” You awkwardly laugh as you hit his back. “It’s nothing special, am I right?”

“Stop that.” Xavier sighs, body barely moving from your hits. “Oh? Your back muscles are really prominent. Have you been working out again?” Your palm presses against his back and he shakes his head, “You know, it would do you some good to pick up some muscle too. I mean seriously, you–” he pauses as he realizes he has his arm wrapped over your shoulders, fingers touching your waist. Your hand was on his chest with your head resting on his shoulder and…This definitely didn't seem like ‘going back to normal’.

“Anyway, I'm gonna go! It's almost time for the dorm curfew so yeah!” Your ankles twist over one another as you try to quickly escape and you're falling toward the ground. “Hey, be careful–!!”

Xavier's arm wraps under your breasts to hold you up from falling and your hand rests on his elbow.

You both stood there for a moment with red faces until you cleared the silence with a nervous question, “Hey, I…Can I come over to your place..?”

Xavier kicks the door closed behind him, already closing in on you. You trip and fall back, the two of you landing on the floor with his hand cushioning your head. He looks over at the stairs before grabbing your arms. “Wrap your arms around my neck.” He tells you and you do it without question.

Suddenly, you're in the air with his hands gripping your ass as he hurries to his room. You can feel something hard– probably his dick– pressing hard between your thighs before he practically tosses you on his bed. Your body bouncing against the mattress as Xavier puts his hands on either side of your waist. You lean back on your elbows as you look up at him, nervously.

“Should I…take this off?” You tilt your head to the side, unzipping your hoodie to reveal your tank top underneath. “Should we?” Xavier lifts his shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere in the room. Then, he's back on top of you.

He pulls down your shorts and panties in one swipe, then your tank top follows so you're only in your sports bra while he's still wearing his sweatpants. His hand moves down to your pussy, tapping his fingertips against your clit before his middle finger dips past your entrance.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, finger gliding in easily with how wet you were. “N-no,” you choke out, doing your best to hold back any noises as he begins to thrust his finger. “I'm ah okay.” Your hips jerk and he holds them down with his other hand. “You're so…wet. Is that normal?” He asks as he adds a second finger. “How would I know!?” Your nails dig into his shoulder and Xavier lets out a hiss between his teeth, “Honestly…I've been hard since we were outside my door.”

“I know, I felt it.” A moan leaves your lips as he moves his fingers faster. Wet squelching sounds come from between your legs as his palm smacks against your clit with every thrust. “X-Xavier!” “I can feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers, are you close?” He questions as he curls your fingers and your body squirms underneath his grip as you cry out and come undone underneath him. “Ah…you didn't even answer me.” He tsks with a small pout.

“I'm…sorry.” An apology slurs from your lips as you try to catch your breath and Xavier pulls his finger out, bringing them up to his lips. He gives them a curious sniff before licking up his fingers, taking in your taste with a small hum.

“Fuck…are you gonna whip it out?” You sit up on your elbows, eyeing the wet spot on the front of his sweatpants and he chuckles, “Alright, greedy girl. I’m getting it out.”

He moves to take off both his sweatpants and boxers before he gets back onto the bed, stroking his dick with one hand. “Hey, grab the condoms.” He jerks his head toward your bag and you roll over to grab it from the floor. You feel a hard slap against your ass as soon as you grab the square packet and jerk your head toward Xavier. “What the hell?” The culprit holds his hands up in defeat and you hand him the condom as you lay on your back.

Xavier rips open the packet with his teeth, one hand still rubbing his cock before he rolls the condom along his length. His pretty pink tip was already leaking precum. He rubs his cock against your clit, coating the condom in your juices and then lightly presses the tip against your hole. “Ah–” you grab Xavier's shoulders to get his attention, “please be gentle?”

He smiles down at you, nodding his head as he slowly pushes inside. He waits a few moments, allowing your pussy to suck more of his length in as you adjust to his size. “It..hurts..” you bite down on your bottom lip. This was nothing like what the romance novel said. What the fuck. “Breathe,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. His hand moving down to roll his thumb against your clit. His other hand moves to arch your back, fingers pressing against your spine and a loud moan slips from your lips. Your hands smacking against your mouth in surprise.

“What's this, Y/n?” Xavier scoffs, a grin tugging at his lips. “Does it feel good when I touch your back?” He licks his lips as he lightly scratches his nails against your back. “A-ah, stop–” Another moan leaves you as he begins to move. His hips snapping forward and his balls slap against your ass. “Xav– fuck, please–” You weren’t sure what you were asking for, at this point. He changes the angle of his hips and you gasp out, legs wrapping around his waist as your back arches. “Hnngh!” You roll your hips up to match his thrusts, your gaze on his face to watch as it contorts with pleasure.

“Ahhh..fuck!” Xavier's hips still and you look up at him with a raised brow, “Did you just…” “Fuck, it's my first time too..I'll do better.” He pulls out to tie off the condom and tosses it in his trash can. He leans over to grab another one, rolling it onto his cock as he lines it back up with your pussy.

The pace is as harsh as ever. Skin slapping on skin, wet sounds and moans filling up the otherwise quiet room.

You can't even remember how many times you've came at this point, tied up condoms littering the floor since Xavier missed the trash multiple times. Your hands press against his sweaty chest as your equally sweaty body feels weak. “You said that was the last time!” You gasp out, legs shaky. “You've gotta cum one more time and then we're done, yeah? You can do it for me, right?” He throws one of your legs over his shoulder as he slowly thrusts into you. His thumb rubbing your clit to match his pace. “We'll cum together and then sleep, hmm?” He murmurs, dipping his head down for a soft kiss as he languidly thrusts into you.

You're not even sure if you can cum again, but you can't say no to that pretty face so you tiredly nod your head. Your fingers lightly running through his hair as you felt that stomach heat up. A soft moan slipping into his mouth as you came for the nth time.

Xavier's head turns to the side to break the kiss as he bites his lip and cums at the feeling of your warm pussy spasming around his dick. He pulls out, throwing the condom away once more and collapses next to you, one arm across your stomach. “Night…Xavi.” You yawn, eyes slowly drifting closed.

The next time you wake up, everything comes crashing back to you but you're not as shocked. If anything, you're content with it. You've come to terms with your feelings rather quickly and decided you would run away this time. But when you turn to see Xavier, he’s not there. You frown. Huh…was this how he felt when you weren't next to him before?

You get out of bed, pulling on one of Xavier's shirts as you wobbly walk into the kitchen. He must've cleaned you up since you didn't feel sweaty or sticky. Maybe he's still home..

You pause as you smell something and run to the kitchen like a newborn deer. Xavier can’t cook to save his life so you wanted to salvage the food somehow. You skid to a halt once you notice he's just heating up leftovers in the microwave.

“Oh, so you didn't try to sneak out on me today.” Xavier comments once he spots you behind him, his gaze raking up your bare legs. You snap your fingers and pout, “Hey! Eyes up here, idiot. We're not going at it again yet, I can barely feel my legs.”

“Yet?” He raises an eyebrow, setting a plate down on the counter. “Who says we'll do it again?”

“Mmh..” You pretend to think for a moment before you sheepishly smile, “Your…girlfriend?”

Xavier blinks at you owlishly in surprise before he shakes his head with a small laugh. “Girlfriend…yeah, that sounds nice. Great way to ask someone out, dumb ass.” He carries the plates toward his kitchen table. “Now let's eat before my dumb girlfriend passes away from starvation.”

I'm gonna post this now, before I update TOF since I've got it done! I'm sorry for the abrupt ending, but I'm glad I finished it because apparently Tumblr doesn't like things over 12k. I gotta take note of that for the future..

I hope you guys don't mind that I couldn't go through and use italics and bold. I would have but my Tumblr is being so laggy from the word count that I honestly can't bring myself to do it. Anyways, I'm not sure when I'll write the next ones in this mini-series, but I hope you enjoyed reading through this! It's a lot longer compared to my usual updates. But yeah! ToF updates later on today so I hope you're ready for that!! <3

[chefkids]

Sydney fell in love with Carmy in a train station

The made up restaurant, Empire, where Carmy worked under Chef David Fields and where Sydney had the best meal of her life was filmed in the Railway Exchange Building in Chicago.

So much of this story is connected to trains, and although in universe this building is not the railway exchange, this season showed to us that the lines between our reality and the shows reality is blurred.

Between Richie breaking the fourth wall, Chris Storer making a cameo in Tina's flashback, Chris and Courtney Storer appearing in the Ever funeral photo collage, and Martin Scorsese giving us and Marcus a film lesson telling us about Magic while showing movies that illustrate the complexities of Syd/Carmy/Claire's storyline, the show is trying to show that it is somewhat self aware of what is going on. We know they had the budget to go to New York and film there, and they could've picked any location to film in, but they choose a building in Chicago that was built to run the trains. Trains are definitely going to continue to play a role in the story and I'm curious to see where exactly it will take them. Maybe Memphis?

[sweetandspicy]

Sorry this is a long post, I had to rant a bit.

The thing that bothers me the most about the ACOTAR series is the fae. I love fae, I love stories with fae in them, there are so many interesting things you can do with them. So many ways you can make them unique and yet still retain the basis of what fae are. And yet Sarah J Maas just... doesn't.

SJM really just took everything interesting about the fae and threw it in the bin. The fae to me have always been fantastical, "other", they just don't feel human, they feel different, they feel strange. But ACOTAR's fae are just so bland and boring. They don't feel different to the humans. In fact they feel like humans but with magic and pointy ears. It genuinely pains me how SJM threw everything interesting about the fae away.

I personally love the concept of the fae not being able to lie. There is so much fun and interest in that concept. It is something that is challenging to navigate. Every fae character cannot directly tell a lie therefore you have to get creative with what they say, you have to twist words around so that they can lie without actually lying.

That idea is initially presented to us but Feyre learns pretty early on that that isn't true. That the fae in ACOTAR can lie. Even if SJM wanted to take away the concept that fae can't lie, she didn't even play around with Feyre's misconception about them. Feyre could've gone through part of the first book believing everything that the fae said to her to be true. To me, that sounds like an interesting concept and i would've loved to read about it. I can't remember exactly how quickly Feyre is told the fae can lie but it's not even slightly an issue.

Another thing about the fae is that they're mischievous. They love playing tricks, whether it's something mild or completely cruel. But ACOTAR's characters lack that mischievousness, the cunning. They aren't tricksters like fae usually are. Correct me if I'm wrong but I can't seem to remember a time when someone attempted to trick Feyre. Amarantha made a deal with Feyre, but it was straightforward, there was no trick to it. Rhysand didn't trick her into the bargain either. It would've been interesting to see the fae attempting to trick Feyre, to get her to enter into a bargain that seems good but they worded it in a way that it is actually bad.

Instead the ACOTAR characters, specifically the males, are all presented as your typical "alpha male". Rhysand is presented to us as cunning but to me he doesn't feel like that of a cunning fae but a cunning human. Tamlin can literally shapeshift and yet SJM doesn't do anything of interest with that. Luicen was slightly mischievous in Book 1 but even then it is how you expect any normal character to be, he does not play tricks like that of the fae. I might be nitpicking with these but i truly wish we had gotten more trickster like characters.

As much as everyone likes to hate on Book 1, there were interesting fae in that book. The Bogge, the Naga, the Puca (I suppose this one did trick Feyre), the Suriel. Alis was interesting, she was described as having bark like skin. I want more diversity in the characters looks. Our main cast and most of the major side characters all look normal, human but with pointy ears or wings.

Their appearance isn't necessarily the issue. It's the fact that the fae are meant to be seen as difderent to the humans and yet they barely are.

So many interesting things about the Fae, from their behaviour to their culture and magic and rituals, all the funky little things humans do to ward off or stop the fae, down the drain. And if I'm being completely honest, I believe SJM isn't a competent enough writer to pull off the complexities that make the fae, fae. It feels almost disrespectful to call these characters fae.

(I am no expert in fae mythology. But from all that I've seen and read, these characters just aren't it.)

[creedslove]

KEEPING YOUR PICTURE 💋

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javi sees you going a little crazy over your ex and he tries to make you feel better

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of bad relationships, mentions of cheating, javier peña (because he is a trigger warning himself)

A/N: besties, this is just a short silly drabble that came to me because I actually dreamed of that, lol!

0.8k words

"I hope you know I can have you arrested for that, cariño" Javi's voice startled you as he took a step closer and lit up a cigarette.

He was the last person you expected to see at that hour, but there he was, having a smoke and wondering what the hell you were doing.

You couldn't sleep that night, not after the news you got, and you tried several times to get rid of the annoying pang that grew in your chest, however, the more you tried not thinking of it, the more you thought of it and that was bothering you to no end so you thought of the most illogical idea that could possibly cross someone's mind: you went out in the street in the middle of the night, grabbed one of the trash cans outside, dragged it to the patio of your apartment complex, started a small fire inside the can and threw it into the flames all of the painful memories that troubled your sleep and disturbed your heart.

And of course that working with Javier wasn't enough, you had to be his neighbor too, door to door, and not only that, he had to be up in the middle of the night to watch your mentally unstable horror show.

He could've made fun of it, he could've made a cheeky comment, but instead, he just stood there, curiously watching what you were doing as he took some puffs of his cigarette.

"You can try to arrest me, I may not be an agent but I have my DEA privileges" you winked at him with a sad smile and watched as Javi took a step closer and finally watched what was in your hands. He saw the photographs you held and looked at you

"That's the bastard who broke your heart?" You nodded and he hummed, taking the pictures into his own hands and watched them carefully "I'm guessing you are burning them down? Lorraine did the same when I left her at the altar" he smiled sadly and earned a chuckle from you

"Well, maybe you and my ex could have a drink together and exchange life experiences…"

Javi gave you a stinky eye and shook his head "I was a dick, but I was also immature as fuck, barely had left highschool and thought I was adult enough to get married. Your ex, on the other hand, was just a dick, because he couldn't see how lucky he was to have a wonderful woman like yourself and decided to change you for some whore" he shrugged and a blush spread through your cheeks. Javier Peña considered you a wonderful woman? You hadn't really thought that was possible, well, Javier had flirted with you and hinted at taking you back to his apartment, but he did this to every woman he saw, so you figured it wasn't a big deal.

"Cariño, you told me what he did, he cheated and deceived and he got the other girl pregnant, didn't he?" His thumb stroked your cheek gently as you nodded, looking into his eyes

"And after he said he would never marry me because he just didn't do marriages, he married his bitch" you groaned "and that's not it, guess where they're coming on their honeymoon?"

"Colombia?" He raised his eyebrow and you nodded

"Let me guess… they aren't going to Cartagena or any other beautiful place, they're coming here?" You nodded again and Javi licked his lips

"That's cruel" he said "tell you what, you let me know when they're coming and they will get a cop visit" he suggested it and made you scoff "would you really harass innocent civilians in order to protect me?"

Javi took another step closer, this time placing his hand on your waist and pulling you closer

"For you, I would yeah… now, instead of burning these pics, why don't you give me them? I will cut out your shitty ex boyfriend from them and keep the rest to myself…"

"The rest as in… my pictures? Why would you keep them?"

"Because you are too pretty to just burn it down, I'd take better care of the pics, cariño, just like I would take better care of you" he winked and you laughed again, Javi was a true womanizer, he just had whoever he wanted, and yet, it never seemed to work on you.

"Why didn't you accept when I asked you out, cariño? Were you afraid I'd play with your feelings?"

"You didn't ask me out, Javi, you invited me over for drinks and cigarettes which translates into sex…"

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't take good care of you, hermosa…"

Your hands rested over Javi's and you smiled big "yeah? Prove it"

And Javi pulled you for a kiss, a deep, intense one, where your lips wouldn't leave his even if someone forced you to.

Your whole body shook and it just felt right to be in his arms, it was a warm, soothing and intoxicating embrace. In his arms nothing else matter but you and him and you moaned disappointed the moment he broke the kiss, his fingers gently placing a strand of hair behind your ear, as he smirked

"See? Told you I could take care of you, cariño"

____

A/N: Besties, I know it wasn't great, but I had a dream about that lol, and I thought I should put it into paper. Also, I'm working on the epilogue of Deserve It, it's just going slower than I thought... 🌹❤️

[dont-offend-the-bees]

’Cause You Cut Through All the Noise

Happy Painland Week! Day one is LOVE LANGUAGES! I could've picked touch or gifts or quality time or whatever as my love language but you know what? No. Life-affirming therapeutic domination. Edwin's love language is ordering Charles around. Fight me. Anyway, no smut here, but some steaminess/flirtation/allusions to sex. Some light angst bc Charles starts off in a bit of a spiral, bless his heart. Don't worry, Edwin'll put him right <3 (Quick translation note for any Americans reading: I'm referring to Charles' suspenders in British English, i.e. as braces rather than suspenders. Suspenders for us are generally the little sexy straps for stockings and would instantly up the kinkiness of the scene at least 70% (which I am in favour of, it's just not the fic I'm writing right now lmao)) 5.3k, M-rated, also available on Ao3. Thank you @painlandweek for putting this all together! Enjoy! 💛

Sometimes it seemed that the more Edwin learned, the less he knew. Or rather the more he thought he knew, the more he had left to learn.

Acquiring knowledge on any particular topic, it seemed, was only building the groundwork to question it further. Perhaps that's what an expert was, in the end: not a vast repository of facts, but one skilled in the art of digging for more. Not a pursuer of answers, but a pursuer of more interesting questions. Edwin had found it to be much the same across fields, across all his broad areas of interest and study.

Charles Rowland was one such area of interest.

It was quite astonishing; but thirty years into their partnership, Charles still managed to elude Edwin's understanding. Frequently. He was a lively, complex butterfly who simply would not be pinned (metaphorically, that is. In the more literal sense, he was most certainly not opposed to being pinned by Edwin. But he digressed.) They must have exhausted every conversational avenue two dead boys could traverse by now. How, then, could they persist in finding new things to say to one another? How, despite a mere sixteen years apiece of life before death, could they still find anecdotes unshared, secrets unspoken? Despite knowing Charles better than Edwin knew himself there was always, always more to learn.

And a great deal of learning had been done over the last eighteen months or so, indeed. Since the chaotic inciting incident: the now infamous milestone Case of Crystal Palace. Crystal, in all her messy human glory, had taken a battering ram to their comfortable routine. She'd rather shaken things up in the process — and thus, shaken a fresh slew of secrets from Charles and Edwin both.

Edwin's biggest secret was no longer a secret, of course. It was now common knowledge — though Charles, loyal to the last, hadn't shared it with another soul. He hadn't told anyone of Edwin's confession, nor had any official announcements been made by either of them as the 'situation' developed. But develop it had, in ways difficult to overlook. In touches, in kisses, in soft words and flagrant flirtations. Edwin imagined their friends and colleagues must have put two and two together by now, vis-a-vis Edwin and his feelings for Charles. And if they hadn't... well, it would certainly raise some concerns about the quality of their detective work.

Charles, likewise, had revealed a secret or two. Far less pleasant ones. Secrets that, in his more cynical moments, Edwin wondered if Charles would ever have told him without external pressure. Without Crystal's well-meaning badgering, or the Night Nurse's former villainy. Secrets about his family, his father, himself — or at least his own perception of himself. Harrowing they may be, but Edwin had filed each secret away carefully. Each bitter truth was a new supporting fact, a new data point. A fresh insight that peeled away Charles' brave face, and shone an interrogating light upon decades of behaviour.

Edwin had always known, of course, that Charles was not merely the plucky optimist he purported himself to be. Glimpses under the mask were rare, but inevitable. He'd have been foolish not to notice. But Edwin was not inclined to go picking at scabs. So what if Charles wished to maintain an image of himself? Image was everything; or so Edwin had been raised to believe. How a man chose to present himself to the world spoke volumes. Charles wished to be seen as a positive force, and Edwin had always respected him for that. Loved him, even, though he hadn't known it at the time. Charles' insistence on being a stubborn idealist had awed, amused and frustrated Edwin in almost equal measure. He wouldn't have changed it for the world.

But it was one thing to know that the chipper, animated, relentlessly positive Charles he'd come to know was a crafted image. Finding what lay behind the mask was another. It was a new level of understanding, of intimacy, to finally know the bedrock that lay beneath every too-bright word or action.

Charles Rowland was an inveterate people-pleaser.

In retrospect, of course, it made perfect sense. Edwin had sat with it, applied his new knowledge to a thousand interactions, and found it fitting. It had been a relatively easy fact to accept into his broader understanding of Charles.

The bitterer pill to swallow had been in realising just how often Edwin was, himself, a person Charles felt the need to please at all costs.

Edwin liked to think that their relationship had improved since those various revelations. It had certainly changed in notable ways. Especially since last November. Bonfire night. The night Charles had kissed him under the fireworks and thanked him, sheepishly, for 'waiting for him to get his head out of his arse'.

But the kissing and... other activities weren't the only new additions to their relationship. Moreso than ever before, there were repeat and regular attempts to open the lines of communication. They did not always succeed in those attempts. Charles' fear of rocking the boat and Edwin's discomfort with emotional outpourings were at odds with one another, and often left them at an impasse.

Nevertheless, Edwin was determined to try. Charles deserved nothing less; there had never been a person, alive or dead, more deserving of Edwin's trust. And it was the dearest wish of Edwin's afterlife that he could be the same for Charles. That he could be a person Charles need not perform for, or hide from. That he could be allowed to know Charles, to learn him, inside and out.

And while there was still, undeniably, work to be done, Edwin truly believed progress had been made. Through trial and a considerable amount of error, they had come to... understand certain things about one another. About what they each wanted, what they needed. Edwin was making leaps and bounds in the highly specialised field of Charles Studies.

So when Crystal stormed out of the office after another of her and Edwin's (admittedly rather petty) spats, he knew Charles needed attention before her footsteps had even faded.

"Charles?" Edwin prompted, with caution. He was not always an expert at 'reading the room', but in reading Charles he was growing more fluent by the day.

His dear friend's eyes snapped to him with a hunted look. Just as Edwin had thought they might.

Edwin cleared his throat. "Are you... alright?" he asked.

Charles, in that practised manner of his, plastered on a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, mate." He couldn't seem to look Edwin in the eye. "I'm brills."

Hm. A likely story.

He should have suspected this might happen, in the wake of such a heated disagreement. The very air in the office still seemed to ring with the reverberating slam of the door. An overreaction, really. Even mere minutes later, the whole altercation seemed rather silly. But such things were bound to happen on occasion. Edwin had certain opinions, and no qualms about arguing in their favour — and in Crystal Palace, he'd met his match. The two of them often wound up in the unfortunate scenario of a minor dispute devolving into a full-blown tiff. Such squabbles generally didn't end until someone (Charles) laughed and broke the tension, or someone else stormed off.

Edwin didn't doubt that all would be well shortly enough. If their pattern held, Crystal would come slinking back in a few hours. She and Edwin would exchange either sincere regrets or stilted half-apologies (depending on the severity of the argument). Then they would smooth over any remaining awkwardness by finding something minor to agree on (usually something Charles-related), and go swiftly back to normal.

But that resolution was some time away, yet. And in the meantime the air hung heavy; saturated with ire and discontent. Charles, emotional sponge that he was, was clearly bearing the brunt of it — and, as usual, trying his utmost to 'laugh it off'.

Edwin responded to the blatant fib with a single raised, questioning eyebrow.

Charles flinched as if struck.

Oh, dear. The situation was more dire than Edwin had thought.

“Charles,” said Edwin again, softer this time. It was important not to go on the offensive; in his current condition, Charles was liable to take any careless word as keenly as a knife in the back. “Please tell me what’s on your mind.” After a moment’s consideration, he added: “I promise I won’t be angry.”

It felt like utter nonsense to say out loud, a patronising placation as one might give to a child. But Charles, in Edwin’s experience, responded well to directness. His panic thrived in the mires of ambiguity.

Releasing a ragged breath, Charles rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “Just… dunno what to do sometimes. When you two go off at each other.” He peered at Edwin with his uncovered eye, and tried for a smirk. It fell short of the carefree, playful expression it was aiming for. “Dunno what side to pick, do I?”

He voiced it like a joke; but Edwin was listening well, and he knew an incomplete sentence when he heard it. He stepped closer and, slowly, giving him time to retreat, took Charles’ free hand and squeezed it.

Charles closed his eyes, dragging his hand down his face. “Can’t keep you both happy,” he admitted on a low mumble, like it was a shameful secret.

Guilt curdled sour and heavy in Edwin’s stomach, but he kept it from his face. Any indication that Charles had made him feel bad was bound to make him shut down further. “It should not be your duty to keep the peace,” he said, choosing his words with care. “I will speak to Crystal later, clear the air.”

Charles nodded, but remained hunched unhappily in on himself. Propped against the edge of the desk as if he needed the support. Edwin could see his brain turning itself over and over in miserable little spirals; wondering if he should have stepped in earlier, said something else. Wondering what he could have done differently to make everything better. To make everyone happy.

Edwin swallowed tightly, and placed his hand upon Charles’ shoulder. “Charles. Look at me, please.”

He did so, without question or hesitation. Responding with ease to the polite command as if it had come from his own subconscious. Quick, and keen. Already Edwin had a strong suspicion of what was needed to calm him; but it was always important to test the waters, first.

Edwin, with great care, hooked a finger through the gold chain around Charles’ neck, and tugged.

The effect was instantaneous. Charles’ wide, fraught eyes softened, slackened, his lined eyelids drooping. His lips parted around a quiet sigh, smoother than his last ragged exhalation. His shoulders slumped as if a great weight had been released from them.

Charles may be an ever-unfolding and expanding area of study. But to Edwin’s expert eye, on occasion, his needs were remarkably simple to interpret.

Meeting his now somewhat unfocused gaze, Edwin leaned in. “Put Crystal out of your mind for now,” he said, a quiet command. “In fact, put everything out of your mind.”

“She’s upset,” Charles mumbled in half-hearted protest.

“Yes — and she will continue to be so for a while longer, regardless of what you or I might say.” Edwin smoothed the collar of Charles’ polo shirt. “When the dust has settled, I will find her and smooth things over. I promise. For the time being, you’ll do none of us any good with your overthinking.”

Charles snorted. “Overthinking? Me?” he joked.

With another gentle, but recriminating tug of the chain, Charles gasped and quieted. Already, his bright eyes were taking on a dreamlike haze.

Edwin sighed and leaned close, ‘til his nose grazed across Charles’ cheekbone. “Granted, your tendency to underthink before making dangerous choices borders on the pathological,” he teased. “But I suspect you’re thinking a lot of very unkind thoughts about yourself right now, and I’d like for you to stop. Please.”

Breath shuddering, Charles’ hands lifted, fisting in the front of Edwin’s waistcoat.

“That what you want?” He asked, his voice a small and broken thing. For all his strength of body and character, he felt as vulnerable in Edwin’s hands as a baby bird.

“How about I tell you exactly what I want for a while,” Edwin offered. “And then all you have to do is listen.“

He delivered a swift, dry kiss to Charles’ cheekbone. "No detective work required.”

It was a very simple solution, albeit one Edwin tried not to employ too often. He and Crystal had a sort of pact in place to discourage Charles' need to please others, rather than lean into it. Within reason, of course — Edwin had no wish to change Charles fundamentally as a person (or to discourage him from doing what felt good to him in intimate settings. If it made Charles feel good to make others feel good, who was Edwin to begrudge him the pleasure?). But they'd agreed that it was probably the healthier option, in the long term. To steer Charles away from hingeing his self-worth on what he could do for others.

But sometimes, the damage was already done. Sometimes Charles was simply too vulnerable to rejection, too stuck in his own head. And on those occasions, Edwin had learned the kindest thing to do was to take him by the hand, and take the guesswork out of the equation.

Charles sniffed. His soft curls tickled Edwin's forehead as he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, alright."

"Good." Edwin gave him another kiss, pressing this one to his temple. Charles melted under his touch, leaning into him, his hands tight and hot on Edwin's chest. "Thank you, dearheart," said Edwin.

Charles shivered. "Fuck me..." he swore, a dazed mumble.

"Hmmm... No, not tonight, I don't think," Edwin quipped — gratified when Charles managed a snort of mirth. Edwin thumbed up under Charles' jaw, finding where the tension still lingered and soothing it out with firm strokes. "I have something better in mind," he said. He released his hold on Charles to roll up in his own shirtsleeves in brisk, meticulous folds.

Charles watched his every motion with a hungry gaze. "Yeah?" he breathed, somewhat stunned; eyes devouring each newly exposed inch of Edwin's skin up to the elbow. He did have a fascination with Edwin's arms; it was a tried and true method of holding his attention.

"Yes." Edwin glanced over Charles' shoulder with a hum, and settled his hands upon Charles' slender waist. "First things first; let's get you sitting comfortably, shall we?"

He braced himself and, with careful exertion, lifted Charles to deposit him in his usual spot on the desk. Charles went without struggle, and with a gasp that morphed swiftly into a groan. His legs flopped open at once, one ankle hooking around Edwin's thigh in invitation. He tugged on Edwin's waistcoat with a soft whine of his name.

Edwin, maintaining his composure admirably, shushed him. He removed Charles' hands from his own chest — though he pressed quick, apologetic kisses to the heels of each. "Later, my love. Now. Where did I put it..."

He patted down his trouser pockets. When that yielded nothing, he sifted through the stationary cup on the desk. He suspected the object he desired might still be in his coat pocket, but he was loathe to step too far from Charles. Luck, however, was on his side. He recovered the coil of string from a box of spellcasting odds and ends with a small sound of triumph.

Charles watched Edwin's hands unwind the string; rapt despite the slight glaze of his eyes. "You gonna tie me up, then?"

Edwin tsk'd. "What a one-track mind you have this evening," he teased. It wasn't a scold. Having Charles focused and fixated on trying to get Edwin into bed was vastly preferable to the jumble of insecurity. "Hold out your hands."

"Sure you're not tying me up?" said Charles, brow furrowing as he lifted his hands — palms up, beautifully willing.

"I suppose that depends on your definition," said Edwin, as he tied the ends of the string together to form a wide loop. He nudged Charles' hands into place, about a foot apart with palms turned inwards, and draped the loop over them.

Charles, through the haze, finally twigged. "Cat's cradle?" he said, with a slight chuckle.

"Do you object?" asked Edwin.

"Why'd you wanna do this?"

"Because I like playing games with you." Edwin directed Charles to rotate his wrists, winding the string into loops around his hands. He indulged in a gentle touch as he did so, tracing his thumbs along the creases of Charles' skin. The smooth stretch where once a 'life line' would have resided. Edwin had not set much stock by the art of palmistry, until he'd discovered that little commonality between he and Charles. "Again, please. One more loop."

Charles didn't argue — of course he didn't. Edwin doubted he currently had the capacity to argue; so deep had he already descended into that quiet space in his head. The one he occupied only in their moments of deepest intimacy, when Edwin took charge, took him in hand. His eyes, such quick and clever things, now gazed down at Edwin hooded and glassy. Perfect, still pools of pleasantly addled warmth. He'd sunk so readily, so splendidly, all but curled up in the palm of Edwin's hand.

Edwin watched him a moment before proceeding, soothing the ragged edges of his own Hell-torn soul. Whatever he'd done in life to earn the trust Charles placed in him, it must have be something very good indeed.

In next to no time, they had the string pulled taut between Charles' hands, forming the neat double cross of the eponymous Cat's Cradle. Edwin hummed in approval. "Well done," he praised, as he pinched the crossed strands and pulled them outwards. "And now to me. Soldier's Bed, please."

Though Charles appeared to be away with the fairies, he was attuned to Edwin's voice and acquiesced to his command with ease. This was a game they had played many times, on long and quiet nights. When they'd had nothing to hand but an old bootlace, and nothing they wished to do but keep each other's company. Charles didn't need to strain to recall how to release the strings into Edwin's hold. Or how to begin forming the next shape after that, his confident fingers pinching and tugging the relevant strands.

Peaceful and methodical, they worked together, shape by shape, hand to hand. When Charles was pulling the strings for Edwin he was focused, intent, a little wrinkle in his brow. Once or twice his tongue darted out, bitten between his teeth in concentration, and Edwin resisted the impulse to distract him with a kiss. When Charles was merely holding the strings he subsided into utter relaxation. Breathing slow, eyes closed or halfway there, watching Edwin's face and hands with hazy satisfaction. Occasionally he dropped a thread, but it was never a serious blunder, and Edwin got them back on track with a polite command to pick it up. In a customary game they'd have to restart, but this was no customary game. Now was not the time to dwell upon harmless mistakes.

The game served as Edwin had hoped it would. After a few rounds of he and Charles working in perfect tandem, he could feel the air had settled and Charles with it. The grounding touches of their fingers and the face-to-face contact couldn't have hurt. Edwin had fallen into a rhythm, politely requesting each new shape by name and praising the end result. Charles had likewise fallen into a rhythm of mellow compliance. As the rounds wore on he even offered the odd cheeky verbal acknowledgement of Edwin's commands. A 'comin' right up' here, an 'on it, boss' there. His voice was thick and sweet, his tongue succumbing to the same submissive, slumberous spell as his mind. But a little of his bright, energetic spark was creeping back beneath the haze.

By the time they'd worked through the established shapes, and exhausted their own catalogue of invented ones, Edwin was satisfied. He felt they'd left the storm behind and sailed into calmer waters.

"Good game, Charles," he said, as he took their last custom shape — the aptly named Nail in the Coffin — into his own hands, and unraveled it. "Thank you."

Charles hummed, drowsy, swaying a little where he sat. "What'chu wanna do now?" he asked, dark, glassy eyes intent on Edwin's face. Like it was the most important question in the world.

He looked so lovely like this. Of course he always looked lovely, as handsome a boy as Edwin had ever seen. But like this especially, so far gone in his peace and pleasure, there was nothing to compare. Warm and golden, soft and tousled; his eyes black and bottomless and only for Edwin. Gazing at him as if he'd hung the moon and the stars.

Edwin faltered, a small gasp catching in his throat. He remained adamant that he wouldn't take more than Charles should give, at this moment. But... perhaps a small indulgence.

"Kiss me," he said, tucking a finger beneath Charles' chin. "Please."

Charles nodded — a hasty gesture compared to his otherwise lethargic motions — and swayed forward. He crashed his lips against Edwin's in an artless kiss, his hands finding Edwin's waist and gripping tight. Like he couldn't get him close enough.

Edwin sighed into it, stepping into Charles. Into the comfortable vee of his sprawled legs, where he'd come to spend many a peaceful night of late. He tilted his head, guiding Charles into a gentler kiss. Leading him as he would in a dance and letting him fall, gratefully, into step. Edwin explored the curve of Charles' jaw with his fingers, the charmingly pointed shell of his ear. He thumbed across his sparkly earring, and Charles huffed a little laugh into his mouth.

"Magpie," he mumbled.

Edwin chuckled as well, a natural release of the warmth suffusing him. He broke the kiss to dust smaller, feather-light ones across Charles' cheeks. "Well," he said, a thumb pressed to Charles' plush lower lip. "I do seem to collect the most beautiful things..."

Breath hitching, Charles wrapped his arms around Edwin's shoulders and squeezed. Edwin returned the embrace without hesitation. Never before Charles had he felt at ease with this sort of thing — this effusive, uncurbed physical affection. With anyone else it was still a struggle. He had little desire to touch, or be touched. But inviting Charles into his embrace was never a hardship; it was simply his proper place. It was a fact of the universe: Charles belonged with Edwin. In his arms, on his desk, in his bed, on his nerves.

Charles belonged with Edwin, as Edwin belonged with Charles; holding his hand, steering him true. And, where necessary, using a firm word and a firmer hold to put those wretched doubts in his head to rest.

Edwin pulled away with a parting kiss to Charles' temple. Charles felt warm, in that strange, prickly way. Ghostly body heat wasn't so much a thrum of blood as an excitation of atoms. To Edwin's mind, he felt warmer than usual at present. "Are you hot?" he asked.

"Dunno," said Charles with a lax, flirtatious smile. "Am I?"

Edwin rolled his eyes. "In the non-figurative sense, please, Charles."

"Mm. Yeah, bit hot." The smile widened into an impish grin. "Or maybe that's just you."

"You're incorrigible," Edwin muttered — but there was a smile in his voice and likely on his face, as well. His own cheeks were beginning to feel rather warm. He cleared his throat and tugged, meaningfully, on one of Charles' braces. There was a tantalising give and take to the elastic as his fingers slipped behind it. He was half tempted to release it, let it ping back, see what sound Charles made at the slight shock. But now wasn't the time for that sort of play.

"You may remove a layer, if you like," Edwin offered magnanimously — no ulterior motive whatsoever. "I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."

Charles didn't need telling twice. He slid the braces off his shoulders and grabbed his polo shirt at the back of the neck, dragging it off over his head. It was altogether a clumsier attempt than his usual so-called 'strip teases', but his hooded eyes burned on Edwin's face throughout. Afterwards he was left in just his sinfully tight white vest — and, of course, the enticing glimmer of his golden chain on top. But he remained pleasantly flushed and glowing, with not a hint of cold or discomfort. Charles was prone to chills in times of stress; a morbid sense memory of his last night alive. But he always seemed to warm in Edwin's presence.

Edwin, with an exhale that was just a tad on the ragged side, bowed his head and grazed a kiss across Charles' exposed collarbone. "Better?"

He could feel Charles' soft groan ruffling his hair. "Yeah. Yeah, feels good." He pulled on the hem of Edwin's waistcoat. "Bet you're hot too, yeah?"

Increasingly so, yes. Edwin was clinging to his composure by a thread. "It is a touch close in here," he agreed. He could feel Charles' restless fingers tugging, so he took them in his own hands, and guided them to the top button of the waistcoat. It was only fair he restore the balance. "Would you be so kind?"

Charles groaned again, this time so close to Edwin's ear it sent a ripple down his spine, and obeyed. His hands, as was often the case when disrobing Edwin, tripped over the buttons, rendered all fingers and thumbs in his eagerness. But they were in no hurry. Edwin closed his eyes and waited, tucked into the crook of Charles' neck and perfectly satisfied to be so.

When the final button surrendered the fight, Charles made haste to shove the garment off Edwin's shoulders. Edwin corrected him with a polite "Gently, please," and Charles took it in more careful hands, mindful of causing wrinkles. It made no difference, of course — Edwin could will his clothes to look as pristine or rumpled as he pleased. But Charles shuddered sweetly at the direction, and Edwin so enjoyed directing him. Besides, there was never any harm in promoting good habits.

"Fold it, please," said Edwin — stepping back to give Charles space. He watched Charles take the waistcoat in hand and, inexpertly, fold it in half twice. Lengthwise first, then the opposite. Hardly proper protocol, but Edwin didn't much care. He just took the haphazardly folded garment with gratitude and set it aside on the desk. "Thank you."

"Anything else?" Charles mumbled — his fingers teasing Edwin's shirt, itching to tug it free of his waistband.

Edwin sighed, and stilled Charles' hands. Perhaps he was letting the situation get away from them a bit. Charles was quite the difficult temptation to resist. "Perhaps later," he said. At Charles' disappointed pout, he made an amendment. "Definitely later."

Charles snorted, and let his head flop against Edwin's chest. "Alright," he mumbled. He sounded tired. Overwhelmed. It was a lot for him, this complete surrender, and Edwin well knew it. "Whatever you say, love."

"I say it's time for a rest." Edwin took Charles' face in both his hands, holding him still as he bestowed one more kiss upon his forehead. "Go and sit down, please. Comfortably, on the sofa. I'll join you momentarily."

Charles grumbled, but nevertheless did as he was told. He hopped off the desk, hand trailing across Edwin's chest as he passed him by. Edwin caught it for the barest second, just to give his fingers a parting squeeze. An altogether impossible urge to resist; and the loving way Charles' eyes found him over his shoulder affirmed his decision.

Tearing his attention from Charles and his smiles and his soft, trusting eyes, he turned it to the bookcase instead. He knew exactly what he wished to do with Charles, now. Something they'd had neither the space nor quiet for in quite some time. He scanned the shelves, deep in thought.

"Charles," he called out, careful not to cut too sharply through the peace of the room. "Douglas Adams, or Sir Arthur?"

It was a gentle prompt, and a simple choice. The stakes couldn't be lower. He waited to see if Charles would hand it back to him, anyway — still unwilling and unable to bear the thought of making an incorrect decision.

"Mmm... Doug," Charles mumbled.

Edwin smiled to himself. On the mend, then. "Excellent choice," he said; sliding their well-loved second edition of Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency from the shelf.

He turned on his heel to find Charles, folded onto the sofa in a loose tangle of limbs, chin on his fist. He bore sleepy, squinting eyes and a dopey smile, both directed at Edwin and warming him through like late afternoon sunlight.

"Like how it sounds in your voice," said Charles, nestling in further. The very picture of contentment. Seemed he could scarcely keep his eyes open; but he must not have wanted to look away from Edwin just yet.

Edwin could sympathise entirely; he rarely wished to look away from Charles, either.

Edwin smiled as he stepped in close, a hand on Charles' knee; a smiling kiss dropped to his head of rampant curls. "Quiet, now, darling boy," he softly commanded, tugging on Charles' knee to make room. "And enjoy yourself."

~

“How long did the Monk believe these things? Well, as far as the Monk was concerned, forever,” Edwin read, his thumb tracing circles on Charles’ wrist. “The faith which moves mountains, or at least believes them against all the available evidence to be pink, was a solid and abiding faith, a great rock against which the world could hurl whatever it would, yet it would not be shaken. In practice, the horse knew, twenty-four hours was usually about its lot.”

They were a scant few pages into the book, and yet Edwin suspected that Charles had drifted into a doze. It was hard to tell without facing him. They'd settled on the sofa with Charles tucked up against the arm and back, and Edwin reclining between his sprawled legs. Edwin's back pillowed on Charles' torso; Charles' arms wrapped around Edwin, like a large teddy bear. Edwin could feel Charles' chin propped atop his head. On occasion, he nuzzled into Edwin's hair with soft hums as he listened to the story. But the hums and nuzzles both had grown less frequent already, subsiding to near silence.

Edwin read on regardless. Charles, like all ghosts, rarely if ever actually slept, and was likely still listening. Even if his mind was wondering elsewhere for the time being, he'd find his way back. He always did. And Edwin would be waiting for him.

A few chapters later, as Edwin recounted the thrilling mystery of the horse in the water closet, he felt Charles stirring. Soon, Charles' wrist was slipping free from Edwin's grasp, the hand coming to rest instead atop Edwin's hand in a gentle hold.

"Thank you," Charles mumbled, nuzzling into Edwin's hair.

Edwin smiled. "There's no need to thank me for reading to you," he said. "I enjoy it."

"I meant, like..." Charles sighed, squeezing Edwin's hand. "Thanks for, y'know. Bossing me around a bit," he said, sincerity threaded through the lighthearted tease. "Seriously. It proper helps."

Edwin laced their fingers, and brought Charles' hand to his lips. "Charles," he said, simple and serious. He kissed him on the knuckles. "I shall always be here to boss you around when needed."

Charles laughed. Quiet, unobtrusive. It seemed neither one of them was quite ready to break the spell just yet. "Love you," he murmured.

Marking his page with a finger, Edwin leaned back onto Charles' shoulder. He tilted his head back, all the better to look his beloved in the eye. "I love you, too."

He only had to lift his lips, a silent prompt.

Charles needed no further instructions.

~~

Thanks for reading! Consider dropping us a comment/reblog, they do so make my day/week/month 💛 Might not manage every day of this week but I will defo see you tomorrow for a fic/collab I'm SUPER excited about!!! Painland Week Prompt List