#was planning to try and do this in one post

[whytheylosttheirminds]

happy birthday, baby (part one: birthday girl)

(boyfriend!rafe x girlfriend!reader two-shot)

summary it's your first birthday as rafe's girlfriend, and he's desperate to show you just how special you are to him...

content fluff! smut! 18+ minors do not interact!

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“It’s too much, Rafe!”

The pile of presents in front of you is outrageous. Bows and bags and big, meticulously wrapped packages.

“Never too much for my girl,” he stands back, beaming as he watches you take in the display with your mouth agape.

“I don’t even know which one to open first,” you muse.

“Any of ‘em. Just not,” he steps forward and plucks one bag from the pile, “this one. This one’s for last.”

You eye him suspiciously as he sets the bag on the kitchen counter, out of reach. 

“What surprises do you have planned, Cameron?”

“If I told you,” he smiles, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso, “then they wouldn’t be surprises. Now pick a present or we’re gonna be here all day.”

“Excuse me, I will not be rushed on my birthday,” you say defiantly.

“Not rushing you,” he drops a kiss on your shoulder, “just got a lot of shit planned for ya, I don’t want to waste any time,” he clarifies.

“There’s more?” You turn in his grasp, eyes wide.

He’d already woken you up with breakfast in bed, and an adorably off-key, groggy voiced rendition of ‘Happy Birthday.’ His bedroom was full of flowers and balloons, including two big pink ones displaying your new age. After you ate the fluffiest pancakes you’d ever had in your life, he slipped a heavy diamond necklace around your neck, kissing your shoulders as he clasped it. Giving him a million thank you kisses, you told him you loved your present, and he chuckled, leading you to the kitchen to the mountain of additional presents you’re now ogling.

“So much more. I’ve got a whole day planned for you, so let’s get to it,” he said with a quick tap on your ass, making you giggle.

“Okay, okay! I want…that one,” you point to the largest package in the back of the pile, “‘cause it’s big.”

“Huh, where have I heard that before?” He pretends to think, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

You roll your eyes, shoving him back by his shoulder and scoffing, “you’re on another one today, I swear.”

“Just excited to celebrate you,” he grins, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before pulling the biggest present out of the pile.

You sit in one of his dining chairs, opening present after present, each one delighting you more than the last. Flashy and expensive; a new bag, two pairs of shoes that have been on your wishlist forever, jewelry until you’re dripping in diamonds and precious gems. Sweet and sentimental; a printed album of all your instagram posts since the two of you got together almost a year ago, a gold ring engraved with a handwritten message, a crystal picture frame with a shot of the two of you on his boat at sunset. 

You wonder if it’s possible for your heart to actually burst from affection.

When only one present remains, you eye the counter quizzically, waiting for him to bring you the little bag he had set aside. Rafe just makes himself busy picking up the discarded ribbons and wrapping paper, a little blush on his face as he focuses on the chore.

“Rafe…” you try to get his attention.

“Yeah?” He leans down to pick up a bow that had fallen under the table, when he stands, you step in front of him, grabbing the trash from his hands and setting it to the side. 

“I want my last present please,” you smile, hands cupped in front of you expectantly.

He scratches the top of his buzzed head, taking a deep breath, “why don’t we wait? I booked you a spa appointment so you should probably get ready…”

“Rafe,” you cross your arms over your chest, “why are you being all squirmy?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t know if you’ll like it, I don’t want you to think…anything.”

You had no idea what he meant by ‘think anything,’ but this whole you not liking something he took the time to pick out for you business was just nonsense. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stood up on your tiptoes to place a soft, steady kiss on his lips. 

“Well I do know. I’m gonna love it, because you got it for me, and I love you,” you ease his worry.

You had told each other you loved each other for the first time a little over a month ago, but it still feels like fireworks everytime one of you says it. Nothing in life is sweeter than the sound of his quick, reassuring “love ya” before hanging up the phone, or his whispered, emotional “I love you so much,” when he’s buried inside you late at night.

“I love you too,” he grins.

“Good,” you place one more kiss on his lips, “then I would like my last present now, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smirks, walking you toward the kitchen, kissing you all the way as he backs you up step by step.

By the time you reach the kitchen island, you’ve almost forgotten about the striped gift bag waiting for you there, distracted by his lips and the cute little smooches they’re making against your mouth with each step.

He reaches back for the bag without pulling away, holding it behind his back as he ducks down for one last peck before swinging it forward and presenting it to you.

“We can take it back if you don’t li-��� you silence him with a finger to his lips.

“Shhh, it’s my last present of the day, let me enjoy this,” you request.

He nods solemnly, waiting until you were looking away, too distracted by the tissue paper in the bag to see the smirk growing on his lips as he thought about his actual last present for you. A rush of nerves shoot through him as he pictures the little black velvet pouch sitting in his nightstand drawer. 

Obeying your request, he bites his tongue as you pull out the rest of the tissue paper. When you finally see what’s sitting in the bag, a slow, delighted smile spreads across your face. You don’t pull the gift out, just bite your lip as you blink up at him through your lashes. His cheeks are adorably pink. 

He’s never bought you lingerie before. He’s seen you in plenty of it, though. Hell, he cleared a whole drawer for you like a month after you started dating, telling you to take as much space as you needed as long as he was the only one who got to see you in it. But the thought of him actually going into the store and asking the sales lady for exactly what he wanted to see you in, surely pulling out his black card and telling her the price tag was not an issue, made your belly tighten with lust.

“Ah I see,” you smirk, “it’s a present for me and for you.”

He nods with a lick of his lips, “you gonna try it on for me?”

You lead him to the chair you were sitting in to open presents, guiding him to sit and placing one more kiss on his cheek before excitedly padding to the bedroom to get changed. He watches you go with his tongue pressed into his cheek, readying himself, wondering how the fuck someone like him got lucky enough to be with someone like you.

Rafe had picked out the cutest little set for you. Matching floral bra and panties, sheer and constructed with hardly any fabric at all, a matching garter belt and thigh high sheer stockings. You gasp when you see the price tag, understanding now why the fabric feels so nice and the stitching is so intricate. 

You take your time pulling it on, both to be gentle with the expensive pieces and to tease the man waiting for you in the other room. The thought of him squirming in that chair wondering what the hell was taking so long makes you giggle.

“The fuck are you laughing about in there?” He calls out impatiently from the other room. “You’re killin’ me!” 

You laugh hard at that, head falling back in delight as you clip the last strap of the garter into place. You add a pair of kitten heels to tie it all together and run your fingers through your hair, one quick look in the mirror to appreciate yourself before stepping slowly from the room.

“Sorry to make you wait, baby,” you tilt your head apologetically and step towards him tauntingly. 

Rafe just smiles and looks to the ceiling, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.

“What?” You ask as you approach, hands finding his and bringing them to rest on either side of your waist.

His thumbs trace circles into your skin, “just don’t know how I got so fuckin’ lucky. Must’ve done something right in a past life.”

Your skin goes hot at his words, and the way his eyes are skimming over your body like you’re the eighth wonder of the world.

“Nah, I think you just did a lot of things right in this life,” you pull his arms so he’ll rise to his feet.

Rafe lifts his arm with his hand still holding yours, spinning you with his pointer finger like a ballerina, memorizing every inch of you as you twirl for him.

“No man could possibly be good enough to deserve you, baby,” he responds, his large, rough hands running over your bare hips, guiding you to hop up and wrap your legs around his waist. “I’m just the luckiest guy in the world.”

You kiss him, too overwhelmed by the way he’s looking at you and holding you up to say anything in response. No one has ever made you feel so special, so wanted. He’d kneel down and kiss your feet if you asked him to. But that’s not what you want right now.

“Need you, Rafe,” you mumble against his lips, legs squeezing him tighter, hands splayed on the back of his head like you’re trying to permanently seal his mouth to yours, “please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, angel,” he coos, “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Cause it’s my birthday?” You tease.

“No. I’ll give you anything you want every day of your fucking life,” he swears, “you deserve the world.”

But you don’t want the world, you just want him.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you sigh, lowering your core over his growing hardness, playfulness gone and replaced by frenzied need.

In response, he shifts to hold you up with one arm, using the other to sweep aggressively at the counter and knock all its contents to the floor chaotically. You love him wild like this, complete disregard for the dishes and various items he’s just sent flying across the kitchen, too drunk on you to even attempt making it to the bedroom. 

He drops you onto the counter, not too hard to hurt, but just hard enough to make your tits bounce and a little “hmph!” to rise from your chest. You’re pulling him to you in seconds, nails clawing at his shoulders and the back of his head as his lips devour yours. He slots his hips between your knees, forcing your legs to fall open for him.

“Gonna make you feel so good, birthday girl,” he promises, chest hovering over you powerfully, lowering you slowly until you’re laying down on the counter, your legs dangling off the edge. 

He kisses down the column of your throat, nipping and nibbling all the way as he hooks his fingers to slip under the straps of the garter belt, pulling until the clasps break away from the top of your stockings with a snap!

You gasp, “you’re gonna break my present!”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he shakes his head, bent in half to lower his mouth down your body, sucking purple splotches into the sensitive skin of your stomach, claiming you with every mark.

When he’s satisfied with his artwork, he lifts himself up, piercing blue eyes consuming you with an adoration you’ve never experienced before. You writhe a little under his hungry gaze, and his eyes wander to the panties he gifted you, corners of his mouth perking in a grin. His hand snakes up your thigh and he sweeps his thumb over your covered slit without warning, making you gasp and arch off the cold counter.

“Looks like you already made a mess of your present anyway,” his eyes twinkle with mischief as he spreads your wetness through the fabric.

“Can’t help it,” you whine under the pressure, “you always make me so fucking wet.”

He’s desperate to taste you, lowering to his knees and dragging your panties down with him. Gripping your hips, he pulls you to the edge of the counter, closer to his mouth. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the sting outweighed by the pleasure. 

You arch toward him, desperate to feel his mouth on you, but his fingers find you first. He spreads you, groaning a strained ‘fuckkkk’ at the sight. He gathers your slick onto his fingers so slowly, so deliberately, it’s driving you insane. 

Finally, finally, he lowers his mouth and licks, ever so gently, up your center. You’re on fire, the cold marble counter below you doing little to cool your spiked body temperature. 

Between deliberate licks he whispers praises, his tongue and voice taking turns worshiping you.

“Do you know I belong to you?” He confesses, his other hand gripping the edge of the counter so hard it almost cracks. “Do you understand that you fucking own me?”

“You talk so pretty, baby,” you moan, losing your grasp on language as he sends lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through your body, “love that mouth.”

“It’s yours,” he promises, finally lapping at your clit with a pointed tongue, “it’s all yours, everything I’ve got.”

“Just want you!” you cry out when he pulls the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks hard.

“You have me, ‘m not going anywhere,” he says after releasing your clit with a pop. His middle finger, already soaked from you, dips into your entrance slowly. “You’re my everything, forever.”

Rafe continues to wrap you in soliloquies of praise as his other hand kneads the skin of your stomach reverently, like a potter molding his clay.

It’s these promises that make your head spin, drowning in the tapestry he weaves with his words until all you can think, all you know, is that you love him. When a second finger enters you and his mouth finds the spot he knows so well, everything in the world fades. The only thing that means anything is this man and the way he makes you feel.

His fingers twist and twirl inside you while his mouth works your clit. You’re beside yourself, feeling your release creep closer and closer with each flick of his tongue. You grab the edge of the counter top for purchase, but it’s not enough. Your hands paw at his head, wishing there was something more to ground you. 

You love his buzzcut, you had an appointment in your shared calendar each month for him to dutifully sit on a stool in the bathroom while you redid it with the electric clippers, but in this moment you wish for the first time that he’d grow it out. You tuck the thought away for later.

He loves the way you’re clawing at his scalp, and clenching around his fingers, knowing you’re close like he knows everything about you. He grabs one of your hands, offering his to you so you can squeeze as hard as you need to, loving the pain as he pushes you to the edge.

You cry out his name when you come, nearly breaking the bones in his fingers. He doesn’t stop until the very last wave of ecstasy rolls through you, his body hovering over yours as he soothes you through the cool down.

“You have no idea what you mean to me,” he whispers into your collarbone, following the vulnerable words with a shaky kiss.

“I think I have some idea,” your palm glides over his scalp, where you were just leaving scratches, inspecting to make sure you hadn’t done too much damage. “Because of how much you mean to me.”

He just shakes his head, his buzzed hair tickling your chin.

You both rise from the counter, Rafe straightening your lingerie set and taking in his gift to you one more time. He stands between your legs, fists on the counter as he leans forward on flexed arms.

“How am I supposed to top this?” You wonder aloud, hands smoothing over his shoulders and your head tilting in that adorable way he’s obsessed with.

“What do you mean?” He puzzles.

“When your birthday comes around,” you explain, “you’ve set the bar so high.”

Rafe smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. His gaze wanders from you as he pulls back slightly.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he shakes his head.

“Are you joking? And miss the chance to celebrate you?” 

“We- I don’t really do birthdays,” he says, and before you can pry any further he adds, “plus yours isn’t even close to over yet.”

Rafe lifts you effortlessly from the counter, making you yelp in surprise. You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you to the bedroom, thinking obsessively about the way he accidentally said ‘we.’

Your heart breaks picturing younger Rafe, no birthday candles to blow out on his big day, no crowd of friends and family singing to him, no one to make him understand how special and worth celebrating he is. 

No, that just wouldn’t do. You start planning the second he falls asleep that night, determined to make his next birthday the best he’s ever had.

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part 2: birthday boy coming soon!

for more boyfriend!rafe see my masterlist ♡

remember! writers live off replies and reblogs, don’t forget to feed your faves 😘

[pan-matsuri]

This post inspired me to try something new and to live in this beautiful, majestic, ever-changing, and ever-evolving world.

This is to say, I watched Skibidi Toilet.

I'm only up through episode 59 right now but intend to watch the rest.

First impression: I am a millenial. I was there to see early flash animators shape the world in their image¹. I've seen abridged series spark a fire and run out of steam². I've witnessed goofy shitposts by talented creators get popular, and those same creators can't resist a chance, even a moment, to try to realize their vision³.

Skibidi Toilet is a shitpost that is having its moment. I don't think it's been running very long, but having watched about a half or maybe two thirds of it (the episodes seem to be getting longer so I don't know), I do hope the creator has a plan for eventually bringing it to a close before it dies limping towards an unreachable finish line.

I think there may be a theme of ageism in the series. The series has a reputation for being "gen-z/gen-alpha brain rot" which I do disagree with. But look at some of the choices in the series. The use of UwU faces? The musical choice of Depeche Mode? Just creating animations in Garry's Mod in general? With the exception of the Fortnite dances, none of this strikes me as anything that would be terribly out of place for a generation building their own relevance 20 years ago. Also, the series seems vastly more popular on Youtube than on Tiktok.

I think the series so far suffers from its short episode length. Episodes switch perspective far too frequently so it's hard to know when a character begins to be relevant. Additionally, the characters escalate the conflict in an incredibly cartoonish way at a pace that is unsustainable. In summary, Skibidi Toilet has the same narrative issues present in A Song of Ice and Fire and children playing pretend.

idk it's fine I guess. I don't think I'd ever recommend it to anyone tho.

¹ There are so many iconic flash animations, but in this moment I am thinking specifically of two: Magical Trevor; and The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny.

² Here I am thinking of YuGiOh Abridged, which I predict will never finish, and even if LittleKuriboh does, no one remains who will notice.

³ I am referring here of course to Homestuck, which became more popular than I believe Andrew Hussie ever expected, even after Problem Sleuth.

[bluebeads-art]

2024 November 21st

INTO THE LAKE WITH YOU, MUD CHILD

My part of a retroactive art trade with @anxiousapplepie ! "Retroactive" because I was already drawing this before we agreed to make it part of a trade, heheh.

I read this post about their Role!Swap AU, and, like, multiverse shenanigans? Check. Characters goofing off and having fun? Check. Several opportunities for slapstick humor? Check. Conclusion: I really wanted to draw it. Physical comedy is my specialty. :p

This thing is kinda all over the place composition wise (looking at you, relative sizes of speech bubbles) because there is Too Much going on in these panels and I Did Not plan ahead of time, lmao. This was supposed to be doodlier than it ended up being, so as a growing pain it's a funny jumble of consistency. One of these days I'll be able to doodle without getting carried away. 😂

More rambling and close-ups under the cut

This interaction in particular is what nudged me over the edge to draw this whole thing. I don't know what Fighter Mirabelle's malfunction is when it comes to the Siffrins, but it lets me make Sif the butt of a joke again, so yeehaw! His hat being catapulted out of frame made me laugh when I was thinking of what to do with the composition-complicating hat in question.

Also my personal take is Siffrin is 100% having the time of their life here. Making new(?) friends? Being involved in a fun group activity? Well worth inhaling some puddle water and having to go jump in The Lake to wash the mud off later.

Bonnie being so furious they changed art styles wasn't in my original plan, but I'm so glad I thought of it on a whim because it made me laugh Every Time I looked at their face. 😂

Time taken on this whole thing was 42 hours and 50 minutes. AND. I KNOW THAT SOUNDS BAD. IF YOU KNOW I'M TRYING TO SPEED UP MY ART PROCESS. But this project gets a special pass. This was the farthest out of my art comfort zone I've been in a while! 13 (mostly) full-body characters at various complicated angles, 2 backgrounds, learning to use CSP's perspective rulers, effects I'm not used to like water splashes, etc etc. I made progress on speeding up sketching & line art as well! Some of the lines you see are just extremely cleaned up sketch. I was able to let myself fudge things more too. For example, Mira's dress is a very "dude just trust me" simplification because I don't know how the clothes folds would work at that angle. ^^;;

So while there's still a handful of things I'm not happy with, it's worth it for the learning experience and perfectionism-busting progress! Also for the sake of drawing silliness, of course.

Oh, lastly; the KO sprite is the one from in-game, so it was made by insertdisc5 and not me.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

Can I get a smau about them finding out you were a jujitsu sorcerer? Like you’ve been dating 4 years and you just casually drop it out of nowhere. Like a REALL strong one too (stronger than SUKUNA strong) ps. Let me be delusional pls😍

NOW PLAYING

SECRETS

them finding out you're actually a jujutsu sorcerer

Starring: choso kamo, kento nanami, kiyotaka ijichi, satoru gojo, suguru geto, takuma ino

Warnings! none

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ok, first of all: thank you for this phenomenal request!!!! I love fulfilling requests, regardless of what they are because I just love interacting with you guys & sharing my writing with y'all, but it's always so fun & amazing to get a request that I'm so genuinely excited to fulfill & that inspires me as a creator, so thank you!!!

secondly: I kind of took the request & ran with it. I had a hard time coming up with a solution to like, why would they not know about it if they were dating, like that's an odd secret to keep?? So I originally planned on making this a pre-relationship kind of situation, but I have such a hard time with that, I always feel like anytime I try to create something like that it's so cringey & forced, idk??? So I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you were asking for!

third: you'll notice the cast list for this smau is somewhat different than previous ones. I don't plan on keeping the same exact people or number of people in rotation for each post. When it comes to smau or writing in general, the last thing I want to do is force myself to create something. I typically don't add suguru to my smaus, but I felt like he really fit within this one & I had an idea for him. I didn't include any of the non-sorcerer characters because that made the most sense to me. In the future, if you'd like me to include a specific character (like suguru or sukuna, for example, who aren't in all of my smaus), just let me know; otherwise, it might be a mixed bag.

okay, fourth & final thing: this maybe only occurred to me, & if so, yay! but the whole time I was making this, I kept thinking that if this actually happened, they would probably never choose to have this conversation with you over text, & they'd probably have a much larger reaction. Those kinds of things are pretty difficult to capture in a 3-4 screenshot smau, if you know what I mean. Plus, angst is really not my bag at all; I wish it was & maybe I'll write more of it in the future, but not today.

xoxo, carlisle!

LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3

[morverenmaybewrites]

Lessons on Love | Jason Todd x Reader

What lesson about love are they still trying to learn?

Asked by @/citrussaurus

Literally everything. 

I think that Jason’s experiences have shaped him into someone who has quite an unhealthy view on love and relationships: the lack of a positive example of a healthy relationship during his childhood years, the confusing (but not entirely loveless) relationship he had with Bruce Wayne, and eventually his years of rage and isolation as the Arkham Knight. 

By the time post-Arkham Knight rolls around, Jason has a deeply unhealthy view on love and relationships.

And yet, despite this, I feel like he craves this. More than that he’s starved for it. 

I think a part of him hopelessly, desperately wants to be held dear. He wants a place to belong, someone to belong to. 

And it’s his great tragedy that he doesn’t know how to ask for it and more importantly, he doesn’t know how to receive it. Sometimes, Jason loves so quietly that it’s hard to see it as love –because God knows that no one in his life ever taught him to properly communicate. 

I picture the way Jason seeks affection like a starved street dog: there’s a hunger to it, a thirst.

(After all, if you have spent your whole life being starved of something, isn’t it only natural to seek it out, even if it’s just the bare scraps? And here you are, willing to give him your whole heart.)

But there’s also a sort of tension, then animal instinct to flee after being kicked more than several times for it.

I picture him as always perched at the edge of things: waiting, waiting for the inevitable moment where the rug is pulled out from under him, when the affection you had always so freely given will suddenly be withheld, and he will be left starving again, a hole at the center of him that he has no idea how to fill.

(But oh you are worth the fall.)

But I always think of him as physically perched on things, especially on the early days of your relationship: the edge of towering skyscrapers, hovering in your doorway just barely stepping into your threshold until you finally have to ask him to come in, your windowsill, just barely keeping himself out of the rain. He’ll try to act relaxed, but really, he’s tense as a bird about to take flight. Always, always prepared for the moment where he’ll be asked to leave.

(And yet, and yet, all he wants is that you ask him to stay.) 

He doesn’t know how to show you affection, doesn’t know how to ask for it. All he’s ever known is how to make himself useful. 

(After all, useful things don’t get thrown away. Useful things don’t get asked to leave.) 

He’ll keep you safe, which in Gotham City is no small feat, keep the villains away from your door: from the small-time crooks who target regular civilians for just that extra bit of cash to the supervillains whose plans would likely involve you (and the rest of Gotham City) as collateral.

And at first, it’s eerie: the sudden silence in your life, the feeling of peace, of being looked out for. You have never gone so long without encountering some sort of mugger or been involved in a bank robbery.

Then perhaps one day, you’ll get a text from an unknown number, asking you to stay away from Gotham Square that day. When you try to call to get more information, it comes up as Unavailable. And perhaps a week after that, you’ll get a similar text from a different, this time telling you to avoid Bleake Island.

Perhaps you solve it quickly or perhaps, not at all and it takes you a while to put together the pieces: Jason has been keeping you safe. 

And when you decide to talk to him about it, he’s cagey, almost embarrassed. He won’t deny it, but at the same time, when you try to thank him or show you appreciate him, he’ll react with confusion. 

After all, keeping his loved ones safe is second nature to him. In fact, I feel like it’s the one act of love that all of the Bats are comfortable with. 

He’ll do other things for you too. He’ll get up and make dinner after a long day, despite having just come back from a grueling mission, he does the dishes without being asked, hell, he’ll sometimes even throw in a load of laundry for you–taking a an unexpected pleasure from seeing the way your clothes are mixed in with his, the simple solid domesticity of it, at how your lives have become so intermingled that he now has to separate your socks from his. 

In short, he’ll do acts that, while on the outside seem nice, would sometimes border on servile. 

When you try to show him how much you appreciate what he does, he’ll be even more embarrassed: there’s an odd tension around his shoulders, the slightest dusting of pink on his cheeks. 

(And oh, Jason hates the way he blushes, knows the way it discolors around the brand on his cheek, the way it doesn’t redden along with the rest of his skin, but instead stands out, ghostly pale.) 

So he’ll shrug it off, barely being able to look at you. Acutely aware of how strange and monstrous he looks.

And even more so, he’s painfully aware of the reason he’s doing these things. Not only because he wants to take care of you (and he does), but because it’s the only way he knows how to be useful, how to be needed. 

How to be asked to stay.   

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Morning Routines

Kind of a part 2 to the Sleeping Habits Post??? While that one is about falling asleep with them, this one is about what its like to wake up with them. Same lineup; Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer. I... also might have accidentally started a Charlie one so I might be doing more parts to these (｡ŏ_ŏ)

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; NSFW in Vox's section; mostly just nuclear powered fluff; somebody PLEASE get Lucifer a doctor the man is so depressed (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

As gone over in my sleeping habits post, Alastor does not like sharing a bed normally. But if it does happen to be a blue moon and he actually stayed the whole night; it is a sight to behold in the morning.

Alastor's hair is naturally curly. Due to internalized racism (from you know, the 1920s), Alastor insists his hair must be straight and has a crazy hair routine to keep it that way. One of many reasons why his hair is so... gnarly looking.

Right after he wakes up in the mornings though, his bedhead breaks through the illusion. You get to see the glorious sight of Alastor's hair attempting to go back to its natural form. The edges of his locks are making small loops in all directions, and his face is framed in loose ringlets.

Unfortunately, this only lasts for about ten minutes at most before he goes to "fix" it.

Other then getting to see that beautiful sight, the mornings are the same regardless of if he stayed in the bed with you or not; You always get to wake up to his wonderful cooking.

Alastor has unfortunately had to take it upon himself to be the hotel chef. Charlie did try to do it for a little bit, but that resulted in more fires and ambiguous remains then anything. Vaggie and Husk can barely operate a microwave. Nifty is well... Nifty.

So Alastor pops into the hotel kitchen at around 7am to start cooking breakfast for the hotel. More 7:30 if his hair has been particularly unruly that day.

Alastor pokes fun at everyone over being their chef, but he really likes it actually. He will never admit that to anyone though. He finds the mornings relaxing because he gets to just cook, something that he enjoys and thats deeply nostalgic for him. It starts him off on the right foot for the day.

The only times it starts him on the wrong foot, is when Lucifer decides to get up at an ungodly hour (or straight up pull an all nighter), just so he can steal the kitchen and make the hotel breakfast instead.

Lucifer does this because he thinks he is a better chef then Alastor. Surely, Alastor's annoyance is proof of that! But Alastor is actually pissed off because his plans for the morning got set on fire by Lucifer's dumb ego.

Alastor really does go above and beyond as the chef by the way. For a cannibal, you would never expect how respectful he is of everyone's dietary preferences. If your a vegetarian, or even a vegan, Alastor won't blow you off. He will make something for everyone that still works for you, or just make you something special. He sees it less as you having a dietary restriction and more as a challenge of his skills.

Anyways, thanks to Alastor, mornings at the hotel are always extremely nice. Everyone comes down to eat together, hang out, and just be. Its a tranquil time and atmosphere that he has taken great care to cultivate. Sets him up perfectly mentally for his afternoon radio shows.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Vox always wakes up with a big sigh. He is very much that type of person whose first thought when waking up is, 'goddamn it, I woke up'. Hates leaving the bed but knows he has to.

At least Vox stops having those thoughts when you become apart of his life.

If your still in the bed when he wakes up, Vox is immediately comforted by your weight on his chest. He cant help but smile as his arms tighten around you. One of Vox's hands starts absentmindedly carding through your hair as he goes over everything he has to do that day in his head.

If your not in the bed when Vox wakes up, it completely fucks with his mind. His sleeping body does not register you moving or getting up at all. So from Vox's perspective, you were in his arms one second then... not. Vox will wake up to you not there and be super confused. He will legit start looking for you like a puppy.

Depending on your relationship status with him, Vox might even just assume that he dreamt/hallucinated the whole encounter with you. Only realizing that it actually happened upon outside evidence.

Operating on the assumption that you two are a thing; Vox now tries to keep his mornings flexible because of you. They used to be very regimented. Vox would wake up, get dressed, grab a coffee, then be right out the door to head to work. But now that your here, the mornings are much more relaxed.

When you first move in, Vox's first order of business is to hire a personal chef. Don't get me wrong, Vox loves it when you cook for him. The guy absolutely melts when you do. But the reality is he loves it a little... too much. Which often results in no breakfast actually being had because Vox ends up dragging you back to the bedroom. Of course, that's if he doesn't end up fucking you right on the counter or kitchen table.

Look. Seeing you by the stove in an apron just does something to him, alright?

If you ever even asked Vox if he knew how to cook, the guy would probably bluescreen. The only thing he knows how to ""cook"" is 'takeout'. (image included) If he tried to boil an egg, he would burn the water.

So yeah. Vox takes initiative to get you two a chef. He doesn't want you to have to cook for him anyway; he wants it to be an act of love rather then an obligation. If you push Vox and say you want to cook for him, he will making heart eyes and be ready to marry you on the spot.

Seriously. Make him cute, homemade lunches for work. Vox will brag about them to everyone. Put adorable love notes in there and everything. The guy will be on his knees.

Regardless of who actually made the breakfast, Vox always has it with you. He may be a busy man, but he makes sure this is a time you get him exclusively. Vox lets you know of his schedule for the day (assuming Valentino doesnt set it on fire ofc) and when he plans on being home.

When Vox leaves for work he actually has a genuine smile on his face. Don't get me wrong, he still hates it and cant wait to get back home to you. But Vox doesn't feel that same crushing dread that he did before.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

It used to be so hard to get up for him. It wasn't uncommon for Lucifer to just wallow in bed for an entire day. But now that your here, everything has changed. Lucifer actually has a reason to get up in the mornings again. He used to just go back to sleep and pretend the world doesn't exist.

He is a morningbird by nature, so he often wakes up before you. However, Lucifer hates leaving your arms and the cozy bed. So one of two things happens depending on how he is feeling.

If Lucifer is feeling good, or just particularly lovey that morning; he will pull you extra close to him and start kissing all over you. You'll wake up to the wonderful feeling of fleeting kisses and his smile on your skin. No better way to start the day.

As soon as he notices your awake, Lucifer moves to place quick, chaste kisses all over your face. All while asking, "How are you feeling, Ducky?", "Did you sleep okay?", "Have any fun dreams?".

Lucifer looks at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, desperate to snuggle and feel your skin on his. He wants to listen to you talk about anything and everything.

After awhile of cuddling and pillow talk, you have to be the one to convince Lucifer to get up. He will playfully whine and try to keep you in the bed, but he won't keep it up for long. Lucifer also cant wait to make you a wonderful breakfast and talk more while he cooks too~

Lucifer is a chatterbox when he wants to be. Especially with someone he loves. He basically wants to imbibe your entire being; that includes getting to know every random thought you have and every dark corner of your mind.

But if Lucifer feels the weight of depression weighing him down that morning, he simply snuggles deeper into you when he wakes. His grip on you tightens, and he pulls the sheets tighter around you two. Like he is building a cocoon or trying to shield you both from the outside.

Sometimes you can tell as soon as he wakes up that he is in a bad state. Instead of kisses, you are woken up by the trembling of his small form. Shaking with unshed tears and fresh pain from old wounds.

Lucifer clings to you desperately; the grip of his claws threatening to break your skin. You have to physically force him away from you just so you can look him in the eyes. Even then, Lucifer whimpers and tries to hug you tighter in protest.

He will begin to plead with you. Saying things like "Don't leave me" or "Please stay". You kiss him gently and bring him into your chest as he finally begins to sob. You two stay there for a long time. Lucifer is extra clingy that day. Attached to you at the hip and always holding your hand in his. His heart rate picks up and he starts to get frantic if your fingers slip out of his.

Mornings with Lucifer are overall just very slow. Meandering. Lucifer's safe place has become the bed since the heights of his depression, so he is reluctant to leave it. Some dark part of him feels that the longer he can keep you in bed, the longer he wont have to say an inevitable 'goodbye'.

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FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Its a super silly idea, but I love >>THIS POST<< by @antiheroalastor where you find out Alastor has a extensive skincare routine.

Cute imagine by @voxisdaddy where Vox has to cuddle you to fall asleep can be found >>HERE<<

Then something more spicy, >>HERE<< are some ADORABLE Lucifer aftercare headcanons by @redr0sewrites. Rose writes the rambling, dorky, disaster Lucifer that I have envisioned in my head PERFECTLY.

[reignpage]

Lil angst idea ........ how do you think jjk men would react if reader defected?? (If possible could we get both pre and post defection suguru 👉👈)

Gojo:

DEVASTATED words cannot even explain the crash out this man would experience (I have a fic on this actually, still writing it tho) I think he'd go off the rails Starts hollow purpling everything That isn't a joke btw, like that's how I see it play out He'd lose hope and faith

Pre-Geto:

He'd go catatonic for a while Thinking about what went wrong and trying to figure out where he stands But he'd end up joining reader

Post-Geto:

Happy Feels reassured about his masterplan Because he definitely had moments where he doubted himself

Choso:

Confused Would try to reach out to understand Would be very conflicted about where he stands It'll drive him wild trying to choose between reader or his brother Very similar crash out like when he realised Yuji was his brother after attacking him

Toji:

I don't think he'd care He's really the type to just go with the flow Always been apolitical and just focused on himself so he'll go wherever you go Won't really take an active part in your plans but if you asked him to do something e.g. kill someone, he'd do it

Nanami:

Woah You know in a zombie apocalypse, where the crazy weirdo has a tied up zombie of their loved one that they talk to and think is genuinely okay, like living in fantasy land That would be Nanami He'd be sent to kill you, but would capture and hold you captive instead Comes in multiple times a day to clean and feed you Talks to you about his day like nothing's wrong In hopes you'll return to him

Sukuna:

He'll pat himself on the back lol You know that scene in Barbie when Ken says SUBLIME Yeah that's our man

Yuji:

Poor boy wouldn't understand He'll be traumatised Forever changed Just like Gojo was It'll force him to reaffirm his belief and faith in jujutsu society but there'll be a darkness that follows him everywhere

Megumi:

Mad at you So so so mad Mad at himself too Feels a strong sense of responsibility and blame Thinks you're stupid and you were manipulated or something But doesn't try to seek you out He's too cowardly

Inumaki:

Suffer in silence Would stop speaking all together Might start chasing you down though Thinks he can use his technique to bring you back Spiritually demolished if he tries and fails

[prettyboykatsuki]

alkali. | m. bachira

✮  tags ; afab + gn!reader, established relationship, omegaverse, morning sex, unprotected sex, knotting, bachira being a lovesick mess, 18+

✮ wc ; 2k (guys....)

✮  a/n ; a comission for @cottoncalicoes. thank you for commissioning me!!!

✮  synopsis ; every moment of bachira's life has been painted by you.

or a soft post story from another word for homesick, from bachira's perspective.

tip jar | commission post (reopening on the 22nd) | ao3 link.

[ TWENTY-ONE ]

"Meguru," Your voices catches on a breath, just short of pleasant sigh as your hand lands on his chest, pushing him away from you. "Quit it already."

There's an edge to your exasperation - familiar and affectionate that makes Bachira purr deep from his chest. He's wrapped around you tight, morning sun filtering through the blinds and casting a soft yellow glow on your skin. He buries his face in your neck, nose brushing your scent glands.

Something rich and warm suffuses through him as he inhales it. Years and years of his life entangled in you.

He's giddy with it. It's been months now and he's still so restless with his love you for.

His voice comes out whiny, high pitched yowling as he hugs you tighter, still, somehow. Trying to squeeze you into his ribs like you'll fit there with enough effort - he slots his morning wood against the swell of your belly and inhales. Marks you with his own scent until it covers you completely.

(Bachira developed this habit forever ago. Back when you were kids and you were convinced that he was another innocent omega. It worked well enough to keep alphas off of you, omega's not so much.

He wishes it worked on both. On everyone so you could be his so obviously nothing could get between you. He wishes he could bond with you so many times over until he's engraved into your bones

It might be enough then. Probably not though.)

You laugh again, and it's beautiful and measured like always. "Meguru,"

"Don't wanna get up yet." He whines. He can already feel you concede. "Wanna do stuff. And have lots of sex."

"It's too early to have sex,"

"It's never too early to have sex, silly," He replies, all smiles. "I'm an alpha you know? With the worlds prettiest omega in my bed. This much is normal. It's fine already so come on."

"I had plans for today." You say, ignoring his words with an expertise of a life time. "Errands, chores."

"Ehh?? Boring—like super boring. Super duper boring. Don't wanna, wanna stay here with you."

"You're so difficult," You're smiling while you say it. "We spent most of this week together again, Meguru."

You skirt around the obvious. Most of the week making love. Bachira can't keep his hands off of you. He can't get enough of you and during the limited weeks of his off season - there's nothing to do but indulge his strongest emotions.

He lets his nose brush your jaw, placing a kiss a a fading mark on your neck and the permanent bond on your nape. "Mhm. And you look so full and perfect with my knot, I can't help it. It's in my instinct."

"Your instinct is to keep your knot in me 24/7?" You tease. Bachira nods.

"Duh. Right where it belongs." He says, then adds. "I want to be close to you all the time. Cuddling isn't enough, yknow? I'd eat you if I could."

Weak against him, you move to curl up into him. It makes Bachira so happy he feels like he could explode into a million pieces. It's there again, that feeling. That he's so happy he could burst at the very seams of him and there's no other way to express it other then loud enough for the world to hear.

A wave of affection and aggression and adoration come over in one go. And he's swift as he flips you onto your back. You turn over with a yelp, arms securing around neck. "Don't be so rowdy this early in the morning,"

He looks at you where you look up at him, soothingly pushing hair from his face when you say it. You're not even slightly upset. You look like you love him, like you always have. Kind and perfect and lovely and wholly like you understand. Like you know Bachira. Not once in his life do you look at him like he's too much for you.

He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he—

He kisses you. Hard and desperate. A kiss to your lips, then the corner of your mouth, to all over your face as his fingers deftly pull away at your PJ shorts. You're a mess of giggles— sweet between gasping breathes. Bachira thinks it might be his favorite sound. He kisses you while you laugh, between breathless sharp bouts of it until you're content with sighing.

His brain loops the same thought, simple and constant like a stream. Or maybe more like a tidal wave. More like a tsunami, more like an Earthquake. Maybe there's no disaster grand enough to put the feeling into words - maybe a love so pure and full exceeds language entirely.

Bachira thinks so. His head is so filled with you it feels like you're what makes up the gray matter of his body and what words could there be for something so physical ? He feels it in his chest when he breathes. When his shoulders tremble with laughter, when he cries or sleeps or eats, when he lives at all and every cell in his body are screaming at him that he loves you more than anyone else in the world.

He's unceremonious and desperate when he takes your shorts off. He wants you. He needs you. You're all he's ever needed.

When you spread your legs, he's greeted by the perfect view of your pussy - hairs slicked back from arousal. He should get to take his time with you. He thinks about it. How to treat you gently, properly. He's never been good at it though.

He's never been desired you in a way that's gentle and you've never asked him too. His feelings are overbearing and possessive. Even smothering you isn't enough.

You've been dating again for a few months now, together again after years. Drops of affection piling up inside of him leaving an ocean of longing in it's wake.

You're the first person Bachira has ever known. You were the one to approach him, to trust him, to be honest with him, to accept him wholly.

He doesn't think there'll ever be a time where he can tell you what it meant to him.

He can't bring it in himself to be patient when it's so heavy in him all the time—when you've got yourself spread open like this. Pretty and perfect and dripping - aching for his knot early in the sunlight, familiar flush on your face. A wetness to your eyes, color to your lips.

"It's soft enough," You tug at his wrist. "C'mon. If you're gonna do it. Hurry."

This is how Bachira has spent every day of this week. Listening to the pleasant melody of your voice when he goads you again - loving the way you break down for him. He sits up slightly on his knees and draws his thumb against your slick folds.

Your body is so inviting. Throbbing with need as you whimper in response to his touch, his thumb settling on the swollen nerves of your clit. Drawing circles too slow on purpose and watching you get wetter. You keen.

"Meguru, don't be mean."

God. He grins a little, pulling his hand away as he shoves his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock stands, fat and heavy as he taps it against your sex. You look down in anticipation, look up again for him at mercy. How could he fuck you gently when your expression reads as so desperate to be pounded?

He leans down to kiss you hard as the tip slides into your entrance. He captures the gasp you let out, a hand on your waist to anchor his grip - another at your jaw to hold it and kiss you deep. His tongue slides against yours sloppy and you make a noise of protest - probably concerned about your breath or something silly.

Bachira doesn't care. He can't think of anything other than how much he utterly adores you. How it wires him. Makes the parts of himself he's always been disconnected from—the alpha he's always felt separate to, pant with desire. He can feel every nerve in his body, every fiber of his muscles—all the ways they want you to be between his teeth. Devour you, makes a mess. An apex predator who so adores his perfect prey. Born to hunt you. Born to love you.

He slides his cock into the soft, wet, sticky warmth of your cunt with ease. Your slick makes it easy for him - built to take his cock in smooth motion. A soft sound comes from your throat as he thrusts in easily.

"It's so full, Meguru," You mumble, a hand on your belly. "I love you."

"So cute," He kisses your jaw, waiting for you to adjust only long enough to breathe. "You're so cute."

He rocks his hips slowly building to hard thrusts, feeling you clench down around him whenever he slides out - cunt gripping down like it needs him always.

Bachira lets the temptation of that thought guide his hips. He's always learning new things about himself with you, or maybe just the old parts of him always evolve to fit you better.

He can feel how easily his body wants to succumb to the pleasure of you around him. You wrap your legs around his waist as he fucks into you again and again, arms around his shoulders. The way you moan his name is sweet, makes Bachira feel even wilder.

Your hands card through his hair even while he fucks you hard and reckless. Gesture sweet and domestic, it makes him laugh against your mouth.

Bachira thinks of your life together as he buries his dick deep inside you. Thinks of the years you were apart and feels his chest get tight. Thinks of all the time he wants to make up for it by spending the rest of his life with you now and forever.

He was made for you. That's the only way he can make sense of it. Why else would Bachira be made to be too much if not to be softened and nurtured by you? The only omega in his life. only one he'll ever miss.

Here is the only place he'll ever feel at home.

The thought drives him over the edge. He feels his chest well up with emotion as he thrusts - gripping onto your hips as he lets it all go. He cums hard, his knot swelling at the base of his cock. You whine loudly as it stretches and stretched and stretches you, the air punched out of your lungs.

He holds it in until he can give you the same. His hand slides against between your bodies, clumsy and desperate, as his fingers find your clit. You're sensitive to the touch, throbbing endlessly as he rubs the bundle of nerves, fast and hard.

It just doesn't feel good if he doesn't cum together with you.

"Meguru—c-cumming,"

He cums right alongside you. You pulse and spasm, legs clasped around his waist and holding onto him desperately as your cunt milks cock. He follows, filling you with his cum almost instantly before the base of his cock begins to swell with a familiar euphoria.

The pleasure is intense. It never seems to settle down, sensitivity spiked as he plugs his knot inside of. The way your body accommodates him makes his stomach tie in knots, cunt clinging to him possessively in the same way his knot anchors inside of you. He shivers.

The intense feeling of longing doesn't dull even after you both catch your breath. Instead it shifts, changes to something heavier as he sniffles.

He always cries during sex lately. You comfort him the same way you did when you were kids.

"You're crying again," You whisper, all warm.

"I love you," He sniffles. He doesn't know how else to say it. "I love you so much. You're never allowed to go anywhere ever."

You laugh loudly at that and he smiles even through tears.

"I don't have any plans to do that anyhow," You hum holding him. "We're made to be a pair, you know? Makes more sense that way,"

An ocean of longing and you—the hopeful sky above it. The moon to his sun. A corrosive acid and his great equalizer. A perfect pair.

Yes, Bachira knows exactly what you mean.

[livingsurreal]

Thoughts and theories in regards to my favorite senior necromancer

This man swept me of my feet so completely that I am still reeling. He is my new Solavellan and the amount of feels I have about him, its ungodly.

So I present to you my way to long essay about why Emmrich is the saddest and greatest man Bioware ever created, right next to Solas.

Please be aware of spoilers if you have not completed the game yet.

Also, shutout to @jaal-ama-daravv - you were looking for others peoples thoughts and theories. Also, thank you for all your posts and love for Emmrich.

(Edit for typos)

Their whole romance starts with dear Rook trying to flirt with him. And Rook being Rook their flirts are… questionable. I image Rook always doing a facepalm “Oh god, what did I just say?” afterwards. They… are not really that good at flirting. Half the time he doesn’t even seem to get that Rook was flirty with him.

But, oh, he did get it. He just couldn’t really comprehend it. This pretty, young and exciting person, flirting with him?!? Rook can be anything up to their mid-40s according to canon. That is not that much younger than him. But to him, they do SEEM young. Despite them being somewhat younger than Emmrich, I do think though, in quite a few ways, they are more experienced and knowledgeable than him. Emmrich led a pretty sheltered life. His childhood seems to be a happy one, despite them being poor. The loss of his parents had a huge impact on his life. To a degree where it still impacts him in a major way, even now, a lifetime later. But outside of that, I don’t think there was much strife or adventure in his life.

He is a quiet man who loves his books, and his time and work in the necropolis. He rarely even left the Necropolis. He never saw much of the world outside of it. But he always wanted to. Always dreamed of some kind of adventure. I think this is one of the reasons he so readily agreed to help Rook. A chance for adventure (and to help the world).

So here he finds himself in the company of a vibrant adventurous Rook who has seen and experienced so much. I think no matter their age difference, they would seem younger, “fresh faced” and vibrant to him. They are so full of life compared to him, who has not done that much living in recent years. They are less stuck in their ways, are out in the world and not sequestered in a life of routine.

In some ways he seems to be older than he is. That man is in his 50s. That is NOT old. But he seems to have lacked the courage to take life by its horns and just ride it. He is cautious, a coward in many ways. But somehow this dear Rook seems to bring out a different side of him. An almost forgotten yearning for more.

So, Rook awkwardly flirts with him. Bumbles and stumbles over words to flatter him. And he is exhilarated, touched and most of all confused. Why would this beautiful, vibrant person be interested in HIM of all people. There are other people around who should be so much more interesting to them than him. And how could he not be interested in them himself? They are, in a way, what he wants to be. Adventurous. Full of life. Indomitable. No matter what life throws at them, they refuse to yield. They have a courage the lacks, or thinks he lacks.

But that man is so much braver than he thinks. The fact that he is so open with Rook about his thanatophobia, even with a Rook that is not romantically interested in him is so touching. He tells them his most inner fears and all he wishes for it in return is some respect and kindness.

So, after some light and awkward flirting he tells them. If they DO mean it, he is interested. Emmrich is a deeply romantic man. In the dept of his heart he does not want a short-term affair. He wants someone to spend his life with. He wants something real. He wants everything.  It’s what he always wanted, but never found and had completely given up upon.  So he opens up a bit more.

But around that time, he also realizes that he absolutely has to tell them about his plans for lichdom. He tells the Rook on the friendship path why he hopes for their help in regard of Johanna. He explains why it is so important to him to find and stop Johanna.

Same goes for Rook on the romance path. But here comes the other side of the coin. Lichdom puts a possible halt on their fledging romance. He cannot know if Rook would be willing to continue what they’ve barely started.

They may either continue under the understanding that they have just temporary affair. What he never wanted. He always wanted that eternal flame – but by the Maker he wants to be with them, even if it is just a short time. He is still all feely at this point and the whole scope of his emotions have not yet hit him.

Or even, can he dare to dream, beyond that point of no return and stay with him after he becomes a Lich.

But he must put it out there. He cannot go further into their romance pretending his plans do not exist. He thinks Rook has a right to know what they are getting in to, and he is correct (and much respected) for that.

At the end, Rook commits to being with him with the full knowledge that Lichdom will come, sooner or later. If they stay with him from that point on is still undecided, but for now they are his. And how can he say no to that. He certainly did not expect this. I believe he fully expected this to be their end. But his confession ended truly in a night of unexpected splendor.

So, we know he always wanted “enduring affection”, love and commitment. And he had his fair share of lovers, paramours and affairs. I would think that he is someone who, when he does fall in love, loves so deeply and completely that it often scared his lovers away.

Not necessarily in an unhealthy way, but he is, underneath all that poise and manners, a deeply romantic man with strong emotions. I don’t think that Rook is special b/c he loves them more than he could love someone else, but b/c they not only accept all his love, more so, they welcome and return it in equal measure. They accept him and want him, even with all the baggage he comes with.

I think he was burned quite a few times in the past. So, he is trying to hold back, “be normal about it”. It’s just hard when this person he loves so much looks at him like he is their moon and stars and flame eternal. It’s hard when he feels finally and completely seen. He told them about his deepest fears, his plans about lichdom, and they are still here, willing to be on his side all the way. And while they seem to act like teenagers being all over each other, all want and need and stolen kisses, I think what they feel goes way deeper from the start.

At the same time, I also think that is partly at fault for not being able to find a lasting relationship. He had people in his live who did not want to fully commit to him. But I also think, the he never truly committed to anyone. He did, surely, on a more surface level. But a part of him always stayed closed off. He never gave himself completely. His fears made sure of that. What happens with Rook, the wonderful, oh so romantic start of their relationship? Only to end in this uncomfortable limbo because he lacks “the guts to say how he feels”? I think that was not the first time a relationship ended sour this way for him.

Take the amount of his feelings, add to that his thanatophobia, and that poor man becomes more and more a complete mess. What starts out as exciting and new and OMG THEY LIKE ME, becomes soon a new target for his fears. All those feelings inside him warring with each other. He wants to pin them against a wall and declare his undying love and run and hide at the same time.

Then comes Manfreds sacrifice and his big decision. Will he restore Manfred? Will he give up his friend to achieve his dreams?

Since I went with Manfred, I will mainly describe my feelings regarding mortal Emmrich. Though I believe Lich Emmrich suffers from the same base fears, they just find a different target.

Tbh, what Lace says to him certainly would not have helped. Her words feed into his doubts and fears and give them credibility. See, even Lace says this might not be right. Rook is younger. They move too fast. He will die earlier. Rook will be devastated. A whirlwind of emotions and half formed thoughts fueled by fear.

All he ever sees and what is constantly on his mind is not the time they can spend together, but the end of their time together. His death, their death, it does not matter. One of them will be gone and the other will be left with the pain he felt after his parents died. A pain that might even be worse than what he felt back then.

Rook being younger just becomes the vehicle by which he tries to convince himself that this might not be such a good idea after all. But its all his fears speaking.

And fear can be so strong, so overwhelming.

When they had this fight, my read on his words was that he wanted to break up with Rook. His words at that moment are condescending, bordering on mean.  He is lashing out. We know he can be vindictive when he feels wronged, but he is nothing but kind and gentle to those he likes and who treat him with respect. I think, in a way, that it was not necessarily a conscious decision, but more of an instinct to hurt Rook. To make them angry and not love him anymore. To make it easier to end it, spare them the pain of breaking up now and of loosing him to death one day. By protecting himself from the pain of their death should he outlive them.

As if that would work and make any difference to Rook, or him. They are already so madly in love with each other.

And I think, what makes Rook different from his previous partners is that they realized, if they let him finish this sentence, he might break something beyond repair. Even if it was his fear speaking at that moment, not his love. Running away from his feelings is a recurring theme for him. And he does not WANT to break up with them. But his fear tells him its better this way. Fear is a liar, though.

So they speak a harsh truth. It’s his fear, insecurities and cowardice speaking. They do not let him get away with it. It is harsh, yes. But I think it was also necessary. It spells out a truth he did not want to admit to himself. He is afraid, insecure and a coward. And the big question, is that what he wants to be? They are, in sadly not the nicest way, telling him to get hid goddamn shit together. And sometimes that’s needed. Especially for an academic man like Emmrich. No Emmrich, that is not logical. It is pure emotion and fear is running your life, not you.

In a perfect world they would have told him so in a calm and collected manner. Less harsh words and more kindness. But would that have had the same impact on Emmrich? Rook is a person too, with their own fears and hopes and dreams. And Emmrich right now is breaking their heart. I think he needed that. To see the pain and hurt he inflicted on them.

Can you imagine the regret he would feel in the end? If he left Rook? It would leave him a broken shell of a man. His final defeat. Fear had won. Nothing would be better, and no one would have been spared any pain. I would just be a lifetime of regret and what ifs. The one person who accepted him fully, loved him so deeply, and HE threw everything away.

I think, the time Rook was trapped inside the fade prison might have been the best thing that could happen in the long run. It’s all his fears come to reality. Rook is gone. He lost them. And he just wants to curl up and hide. But he can’t. He needs to find them. If he lets fear win now, Rook might be lost forever. He cannot allow himself to be coward now. I think this time was a come-to-Jesus moment for him. It forced him to look at his fears and what they’ve cost him. It’s a moment where he needs to stop letting fear control his life.

The last real private moment they had was a fight, filled with fear and anger. (That short apology in the middle of a battlefield was hardly private and could in no way make up for the words that were said.)

That last evening should have been a time filled with love. A memory to cherish. But now it’s a memory one would want to forget. And that was his own doing. It was not something out of his control, like “death”. It was his words and actions that tainted their time together. And what if that was the last time they’d seen each other, been with each other? What if that is his last real memory of them? The look of anger and pain and hurt on Rooks face, caused by HIM, by what he had actively said and done? I think this might be the first time he realizes that his fears take more from him, than death ever could.

Phobias and anxieties are not cured that easily, of course. I think in a way, they will always stay with him, to a degree. But I do think he had some important realizations that will put him on a path of growing. At least in regards of how he deals with his fears.

And then he found them. He found his Rook. They are back and they are alive. He can hold them in his arms again and how could he ever even think about turning away from them? They are a gift, a miracle, the deepest wish fulfilled. A wish he’d given up upon. Something he thought he would never have.

And then the last scene with the coffin. Okay here I go the Astarion route and I am absolutely convinced that that coffin is his. Of course he had planned all things in regards to his death. He had chosen the crypt he wanted to be buried in. And at that moment he took them there. The place that had been the mark of the final end, now the mark of the rest of his life. And Rook? Rook still wants him, after everything. They still love him.

When they pull him into a kiss? He doesn’t see the end of their time, but the start of the rest of their life together. That look on his face when Rook leads him to that coffin? This look of absolute vulnerability? I think, in a way, this is a first time for him. All open and vulnerable. All he is and feels no longer hidden away but cherished and loved. He will always fear loosing them, them loosing him, how could he not. But they are here and HE is finally able to truly commit. He is finally giving everything. He will always fear, but now love wins. Rook holds his heart in their hands, and he trusts them completely. He gives himself to them. He is theirs, forever.

Hell, that man breaks my heart in so many ways.

So what’s in store for them in the future? Sadly we do not get epilogue sliders for our LIs.

But those two I truly think are in it for the long haul. There will be many good days, filled with happiness and laughter and kisses. They will go on adventures, see the world, experience life together in its fullest.

There will also be bad days, when fear rears its head, and his chest hurts from the sheer pain it inflicts on him. But I hope he comes to a point where he is able to turn to Rook in those times, instead of pushing them away. Where he lets them comfort him, hold him, until this feeling loses its grip on him.

Those bad days will never diminish those wonderful days they have together, though. Just a rain cloud, hiding the sun for a day or two. And it can’t rain forever.

Then, when one of them finally goes on to their last journey, they will wait for their love. And when they are united again, they walk eternity hand in hand.

[oneluckydumbass]

Sabotage || chapter one

pairing: Charles x reader x Max (based on votes, but I might post another poll to confirm after a few chapters)

summary: You have a new boyfriend, and after it becomes clear attending race weekends isn’t so important to you anymore, your best friend and your “it’s complicated” person join forces to sabotage your relationship.

…

Rolling your eyes, you pick up a pillow and try to playfully hit your friend with it, but your effort is futile, because he catches it with ease, then tosses it on the floor next to the bed. He’s shamelessly laughing at you, but then he turns on his stomach and buries his face into the space between your shoulder and his pillow.

You’ve been stuck together like glue for over a decade, spending an unhealthy amount of time together, so the fact you’re lying in bed next to each other doesn’t mean much to either of you. He’s your best friend and nothing more, no matter what the press and fans say.

Just when you think he drifted back to sleep, a muffled voice cuts through the silence of the room. “Did you say something?” you ask with a laugh as you tussle his already messy hair.

A groan follows your words, and he lifts his head a little. “I said, I’m starving,” he repeats, this time letting you hear him loud and clear.

A small smile creeps on your lips as you watch him, taking a good look at those green eyes that are blinking drowsily at you. He’s hungover, so this means he needs his usual breakfast to get through the morning, and you’re more than happy to make it for him as usual. When the roles are reversed and it’s you who needs it, he does the same for you, so you don’t hesitate to push the blanket to the side and slip out of bed.

Well, you try to get out of bed, because Charles quickly wraps an arm around you to keep you in place. He digs his thumb into the plush flesh of your hips as his hand moves a little lower on your body. The look he gives you makes it clear he’s not gonna let you get away from him anytime soon despite the hunger that makes his stomach growl.

As soon as you cover yourself again with the blanket, he lets his head fall back on the pillow, being close enough to place a kiss on your shoulder before letting out a soft sigh of relief. Winning his home grand prix must have been one hell of a high, coming down from that and trying to sober up after the party the night before must be quite a challenge for today.

His breathing soon changes, it becomes slower, more even, and you think it might be time to go back to sleep yourself to recharge your batteries enough to function today. Just when you reach the edge of sleep, though, you hear your friend mutter something again, and he only repeats it a little louder when you let out a questioning hum.

“I’m gonna ask Arthur to bring us breakfast. He has nothing better to do today and he has a key,” he tells you the plan, earning a disapproving sigh from you. “What? He’s my little brother, this is the least he can do.”

There’s an edge to his rough, raspy voice that gives the statement the kind of finality you just can’t fight against. So you nod and close your eyes again, focusing on the sounds of him moving to get his phone and type a message to his brother. Once he’s done, he lies on his back and lets out a long sigh.

“I asked him to go to that little bistro where we eat and told him to ask for our usual, if that’s okay,” he says.

You open your eyes a little to look at him, a smile already playing on your lips as you turn on your side. “That’s quite a detour for him,” you note.

Charles lets out a huff. “I told him to bring himself something too so we can eat together,” he tells you, then he turns to you with that usual, boyish smile of his. “I transferred more than enough money, so yeah, he gets a little extra for the delivery and a hefty tip.”

After a nod, you prop on your elbow and watch him without saying a word. He hums to urge you to speak up, but before you could talk, your phone on the nightstand starts to ring. When you look at the screen, you can’t fight back the wide grin that wants to creep on your face, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your friend.

“I need to take this,” you tell him, sort of as an apology for crawling out of bed to leave the room.

To be honest, you didn’t expect him to call. The whole time you thought the buzzing environment of the paddock made him say those things, but here you are, seeing his name flash on the screen so soon after race day. Shane is handsome, and nice, and he’s as far from the world of motorsports as possible.

A breath of fresh air, really.

He’s a fashion photographer, and he only attended the grand prix because he had to take some photos of Lewis and George, so the team thought it would be nice to give him a pass for the weekend. There he bumped into you, started a conversation, sat down for lunch with you, then asked for your number before going home. And now he wants a date, much to your surprise.

When he suggests meeting in New Zealand, you begin to talk about his new gig there, and you get so lost in the conversation that you only notice Arthur when he puts the boxes next to you in the kitchen with a wide grin on his face. It doesn’t seem to bother him that you’re on the phone with someone, because he kisses you on the cheek, then waits for you to tell him where his brother can be found.

Several minutes later you hear Charles ask “what” in the other room, which is followed by the sound of someone running towards you. You watch as he skids into the kitchen, then he takes the phone from your hand and holds up a finger to stop you from talking. Arthur massages the bridge of his nose in the background, while you’re trying to process what just happened.

“Are you really ditching her for some model? Come on, dude, I thought we—” Suddenly he stops talking and his eyes widen from surprise. “Oh, who am I speaking to?”

You watch as he tries to explain himself, looking embarrassed as he should be, and you occasionally glance over at Arthur who can barely hold back his emotions. Once your friend hands you the phone with a guilty expression on his face, you can’t help but feel sorry for him, especially after his little brother starts to point a finger at him as he erupts in laughter.

After saying goodbye to Shane, you end the call and watch as Charles gives his brother a disapproving look before playfully slapping his arm. “That’s not funny, I thought she was talking to Max again,” he says.

Here you go again. “Even if I was talking to him, it would be none of your business,” you warn him with an angry look in your eyes.

You’ve been over this so many times during your entire friendship, but he still feels like he has to protect you from him, as if Max is some vicious predator that wants to eat you alive. The two of you occasionally try to make this work between you, but more often than not it remains a friends with benefits setup. It seems like neither of you is ready to be in a committed relationship.

Your brother once hinted at the Dutchman’s annoyance whenever it came to your close friendship with his rival. For some reason he sees Charles as a threat, not only on the track, but in your relationship too. And given his friendship with your brother, you get these comments about your friend from two people, which makes it even more annoying.

And now you have to deal with the Monegasque’s overprotective personality too, which tells you this breakfast won’t be accompanied by carefree conversations between the three of you. You know you have to tell him that there is someone new in your life, and can only hope he will be a little relieved that it’s not who he thought it was.

While Arthur sits on a barstool next to the kitchen island, you and Charles bring some plates and silverware for the food, and you three dig in without hesitation. Even though your focus is on Arthur who’s talking about the party the night before, you can still feel your best friend’s eyes on you, burning a hole into your skull as he watches you.

“So who’s the guy?” he suddenly asks. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “You never told me you’re seeing someone.”

Letting out a sigh, you put down the fork and lean back a little. “I only met him on Saturday. This was the first time he called, there’s nothing to tell yet,” you reply, giving him a look that says enough of the questions.

“Yet? You mean you’ll meet him?” he wonders, completely ignoring your silent request.

“And what if I will?”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see the way Arthur winces and slips off the chair with his orange juice in hand, then moves to the living room to give you some space to talk. You and Charles only stare at each other for a while, both of you waiting for the other to say something, but deep down you know it’s him who has some explaining to do.

Since he doesn’t speak up, you return your attention to your breakfast and take a bite with your eyes still fixed on your friend. In the end, he lets out a sigh and reaches out to put a hand on your wrist. “Look, I’m just worried, okay? You barely know the guy,” he tells you.

Rolling your eyes at him, you end up shaking your head. “Meeting him will help me get to know him. In case you’ve forgotten, this is how dating works.” He licks his lips, a nervous expression visible on his face as he picks at his own food with the fork. You have no idea what could possibly be wrong with him, but you feel like telling him the facts and nothing more could be helpful. “We’ll have a few days for that next weekend in New Zealand.”

This catches his attention, because he looks back up at you. “But that’s the next race weekend,” he says, sounding surprised that you dared to plan something for the same time. When you give him a questioning look, he takes a deep breath. “You’ve never missed a race, I just… I don’t know. It would be weird to be there without you,” he replies.

“You can’t expect me to put my life on hold because you want me to be there at every race weekend. I gave up enough already, I’m not gonna waste more chances. I like this guy.”

“Does he have a name?”

Your eyes narrow because you know exactly what this is about. “You want to do some research,” you state with an annoyed sigh.

Charles shrugs, and you can’t help but roll your eyes before giving him the guy’s name, although he doesn’t seem to recognize it, so you explain what he does for a living. Those mesmerizing green eyes of his are mirroring the concentration he needs to remember every detail, and you can’t help but wonder why he finds this so interesting.

After all, you never say a word about his girlfriends, you never pry for more information, you just go with the flow and let him have his fun. It’s usually Max who’s more interested in who you’re dating, but even he restrains himself before he would interfere. At least the two of you have history, there’s a logical explanation for his reaction.

But this? Now, this you can’t put a finger on.

“Guys, we have a problem,” you hear Arthur’s voice before he appears in the kitchen, his phone held up. You exchange a confused look with Charles, then your eyes move to his little brother. “Mom wants me to have dinner with her.”

“Why’s that a problem?” Charles asks.

After a gulp, Arthur clears his throat and sits back on the barstool he previously occupied. “Um, well, she might have found out about my girlfriend, and now she wants to meet her,” he replies with an awkward smile.

His brother flashes a wide grin at him. “Why didn’t you tell me about her? What is she like? And what’s her name? Where did you even meet her?”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you reach out to take his hand and squeeze it gently. “I guess this is exactly why he didn’t say a word. No one needs the Spanish Inquisition.” When Charles opens his mouth to protest, you give him a warning look. “This is exactly what you did with me just a few minutes ago. Give him the chance to decide when he’s ready to talk about her.”

Arthur flashes a thankful smile at you, then takes a deep breath and begins to tell you about the girl. He really likes her, and this big, stupid smile on his face tells you that he really just wanted to protect her from this madness. When you look over at Charles, you notice how his expression softened, and in the end he assures his brother that he will talk to their mother and ask her to be patient.

Maybe there’s still hope for him after all.

[mapiforpresident]

Together Always

Patri x reader x Pina

The press conference was over, but the sting from one question lingered in the back of your mind. You had been doing your best to keep your composure, answering the usual questions about the match and upcoming plans. But then, out of nowhere, the reporter had thrown in something personal, something cutting: "So, how does it feel to be in a relationship with two teammates? Do you think the pressure affects your performance on the field, or is it more of a distraction?"

The entire room had gone silent, a few journalists exchanging glances, waiting for your reaction. Your throat had tightened for a second, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You couldn't give them what they wanted, couldn't let them see how much it hurt to be reduced to a headline instead of being seen for who you truly were.

You had given a polite, vague answer about how your relationship had nothing to do with your professional life, that your focus was always on the game. But inside, it felt like the walls were closing in, and all you wanted was to escape.

After the game Patri and Claudia had stayed on the field, still interacting with fans, while you had gone to do a post match interview. You slipped out of the press conference room as soon as the interview was over. You didn’t want to make a scene, not here, not in front of everyone. You just needed a moment. Just a moment to breathe.

The locker room was empty when you walked in, the sounds of from the stadium fading behind you. You quickly dressed into your sweats and shoved your kit into your bag, trying to stay focused. But the question from the press conference echoed in your mind, mocking you, prodding at the insecurities you had spent so long trying to bury.

How does it feel to be in a relationship with two teammates? Is it a distraction? Are you some kind of problem?

You sat down on the bench, your hands trembling slightly as you tried to tie your shoes. Your chest tightened, and before you could stop it, the tears started to fall—silent, hot, and too much to ignore.

You hadn’t expected it to hit this hard, not after everything. You had always known that being in a relationship with Patri and Pina would come with judgment, with people questioning the validity of what you shared. But hearing it so openly in front of the press, with everyone listening— it made it real in a way it hadn’t been before. The sting was sharper than you expected.

You barely even heard the locker room door open, too lost in your thoughts, until you heard a familiar voice.

"Hey, are you okay?" Mapi's voice broke through the fog in your mind.

You hadn’t even realized you’d been crying until Mapi’s sharp gaze softened. She stood in front of you now, her eyes narrowing with concern as she took in your red-rimmed eyes and the way your shoulders were hunched, like you were trying to make yourself smaller.

Ingrid appeared behind her, glancing between you and Mapi. She was usually the more pragmatic one, but even she couldn’t hide the worry that crept onto her face.

“Why are you upset?” Ingrid asked softly, stepping closer.

You tried to wipe your face quickly, but it was futile. Your composure had cracked, and there was no fixing it now. “It’s nothing,” you said weakly, shaking your head. “It’s just… the press. They asked something stupid. I’m fine.”

Mapi sat down next to you, her hand finding your shoulder. It wasn’t the usual playful, sarcastic Mapi. It was the one who took care of people, who always noticed when something wasn’t right. "It’s not nothing," she said gently. "We’ve seen you after press conferences. You’re not fine. What happened?"

The tears came faster now, the pressure of everything—of the game, the media, the expectations—crushing you. “They… they just asked about us. About the three of us. If it’s a distraction. Like… like we’re some kind of problem. And I just—” You choked on your words, frustration pooling in your chest. “I’m so tired of it. I’m so tired of having to defend us.”

Ingrid’s gaze flickered to Mapi, who nodded quietly before speaking again. “I’m sorry. That’s messed up. You don’t deserve that. You’re not a problem, and neither are Claudia and Patri.” Her voice was firm, but her hand on your back was gentle. “But I think you know that. You just need to talk to them. You need to tell them how you feel, not keep it inside.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes quickly. "I don't want to make it worse, though."

Mapi gave you a small, sad smile. "You’re not making it worse. It’s not just about you anymore. It’s about the three of you. You’re allowed to feel upset about this. You shouldn’t have to hold all of this in alone."

Ingrid stepped back, her hand on your shoulder for a moment before she turned to head toward the door. “I’m going to let them know you’re upset. I’ll tell Patri and Pina that they need to check in with you, alright? Just stay here for a bit.”

You nodded, trying to find a way to calm down. Mapi stayed by your side, rubbing your back softly. “Hey,” she said quietly. “You’re stronger than this. You know that, right?”

You didn’t feel strong. You felt fragile, like a piece of glass that might shatter if you didn’t hold it together. “I just want it to stop. I want to be with them, just be normal. I hate feeling like we're being watched, like we’re some kind of show for everyone to judge.”

“I know,” Mapi whispered, her voice low. “But you’re not alone in this. We’re all here for you. The team loves you, loves all three of you. And they know it’s not easy, but they’ve got your back.”

Ingrid returned moments later, nodding to Mapi as she opened the locker room door just a crack to let in Patri and Claudia.

When they stepped inside, they didn’t immediately speak. They just looked at you, the worry and concern obvious in their eyes.

“Baby,” Claudia said softly, kneeling in front of you and cupping your face. “Mapi told us. We’re sorry. I’m sorry.”

Patri stood next to her, her hand resting on your shoulder. “I should’ve been there. Should’ve gone with you, should’ve protected you from it.”

You shook your head, feeling the tightness in your chest again. “It’s not your fault. It’s just… everything. The media, the questions, the expectations. I don’t want to have to explain us every time.”

Claudia nodded, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “You don’t have to explain anything. We’re not a problem. You’re not a problem. The only people who matter in all of this are us, the three of us.” Her voice cracked slightly, her own emotions evident as she spoke. “We love each other. Nothing and no one can change that.”

Patri leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re allowed to be upset, love. We’re not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out, together. Always together.”

You took a shaky breath and nodded, trying to regain some semblance of calm. The warmth from them, the safety of their words, began to ease the weight in your chest.

Patri's voice pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. “Hey,” she said softly, her thumb brushing across your knuckles, “Do you want to go home? We can leave right now, just the three of us.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the day, the pressure, the tears—everything—shifting slightly at the thought of being with them. It wasn’t perfect, but with them, you always felt like you could breathe again. You stood up, and without another word, the three of you left the locker room together, walking through the corridor in silence before stepping out into the cool air.

The drive back to your shared apartment was quiet at first. Patri drove, her fingers lightly tapping the steering wheel as she kept a steady focus on the road. Claudia sat beside her, one hand resting on Patri's thigh, the other awkwardly reaching back to hold your hand. You leaned your head back against the seat, letting the hum of the car and the beat of the music fill the space.

Then, after a few moments, something shifted. The familiar sound of an upbeat song came through the speakers, and suddenly, Patri cranked the volume up.

“Alright,” she grinned, her voice light despite the emotions still lingering. “This is the best song. You better sing with me, amiga.”

Claudia shot you a look before dramatically singing the first few lines of the song off-key. Patri was laughing too hard to hold a note, but that didn’t stop her from belting out the lyrics. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up despite everything. It was messy, and it was ridiculous, but it was exactly what you needed.

You joined in too, eventually. All three of you sang together, loudly and badly, at the top of your lungs. The tension you had carried around for the last few hours melted away with every note. It was cathartic, almost like the music was pulling out the last of the stress, leaving only the warmth of their company.

When you finally pulled into the parking spot of your apartment, you were all a little out of breath from laughing so hard. Patri parked the car, and you all got out, taking your time as you walked inside.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Claudia grinned. “I’m starving. Let’s order your favorite takeout, yeah?”

You nodded, appreciating the thought. “Sounds perfect. You two don’t even know how much I need comfort food right now.”

Patri playfully threw her arms around you from behind, her cheek resting against yours. “Anything you want, amor.”

Claudia chimed in, “I'll order it on my phone” She leaned in for a quick kiss on your cheek, before pecking Patri on the lips as she pulled her phone out.

It didn’t take long before the three of you had placed the order—your favorite comfort food that never failed to make you feel better. The delivery came soon after, and you all dug in, sitting at the kitchen island, eating together in comfortable silence.

After the meal, you all migrated to the couch, a blanket draped over the three of you. Claudia nestled into your side, resting her head on your shoulder. Patri sat beside you, her hand resting on your thigh. For a long moment, the three of you were quiet, content, just holding each other close.

A few minutes later, Claudia let out a little sigh and pulled out her phone. She glanced between you and Patri before turning her gaze to you, her voice soft but hopeful. “What do you think... maybe we should post something? Just to show everyone how we really feel. You know... not just for them, but for us too.”

You blinked, unsure at first, but when you looked at both of their faces—soft, serious, and filled with understanding—your heart warmed.

"Are you sure?" you asked quietly. "I don’t want to make it worse."

“Not if we do it right,” Claudia said, her tone gentle but insistent. “We don’t have to explain anything to anyone. Just a picture, a message. We’ve got each other. That’s what matters.”

Patri nodded, her fingers brushing your arm as she leaned in closer. “I’m with Clau. We don’t need to hide. We’ll do this together. It’s not about the world—it’s about us. And we’ll be okay.”

You took a deep breath, letting the weight of their words sink in. You could feel the love between the three of you, so strong, and maybe it was time to let others see it too, to stop hiding in the shadows of judgment.

You looked at them, nodding. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Claudia opened her phone and found a picture from one of your favorite dates—a candid shot of the three of you that Mapi had taken, laughing at something silly, leaning into each other in a cozy corner of a café. Your arms were wrapped around each other, and it captured everything about your relationship—soft, real, and full of joy.

She tapped a few buttons and added a simple message to the post: "My Loves"

Patri and Claudia leaned in, their heads resting against yours as you looked at the picture together.

“That feels good,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady.

“We’re stronger than anything they throw at us,” Claudia added, kissing you gently.

Patri wrapped her arm around both of you, pulling you both close. “Together,” she whispered, her voice steady and warm.

You kissed her lightly, and then Claudia again, each kiss soft and full of affection, grounding you in the moment. It was real. No matter what anyone said, this was real.

And later, when your teammates started showing their support in the comments—likes and messages of love and encouragement—it felt like everything you had just done, everything you had just fought for, was worth it. You weren’t just fighting for your relationship. You were fighting for the right to love freely and without fear.

As you snuggled deeper into the couch, wrapped in the warmth of your girlfriends, you felt more at peace than you had in days. This, right here, was where you were meant to be. Together. Always.

[hees-mine]

Say goodbye - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: mature content.

Genre: 18+, ex’s.

Word count: 3k+

-

Ten at night, you found yourself standing outside your ex’s apartment, an apartment you used to frequent on days off or when he planned dates for the two of you at his place, that used to be your second home, but you messed all of that up when you broke up with him seven months ago.

Thinking back now, you realize just how much of a mistake you made, but you were not in a good head space at the time. That being said, it still wasn’t a valid reason for you to dump him. He was the only person who kept all your little pieces together. Even when you were in tough times, he was able to make everything better. Heeseung was the most devoted boyfriend to you. He was your rock. He was literally your everything.

But at some point, you decided to hide your worries from him and keep them to yourself. You knew he’d always be there for you to help you through everything, but you didn’t want to burden him all the time with your issues.

Clearly, you weren’t thinking straight.

As time went on, it only got tougher on you, and hiding things just became the norm. There was a lot going on, and at that time, it was all just too much for you to handle, and you didn’t want to waste his time while you were still figuring things out.

He deserved someone who knew what they wanted and how to communicate what they wanted, not someone who easily changed with the wind and carried too much baggage. So you decided to call it quits with him so that he could find someone who was good for him because you were far from that.

But after these long seven months, you were regretting your decision to leave him. Hell, you didn’t even want to do it in the first place, but you thought it’d be best for you and him.

And that’s all you ever wanted, was the best for him.

He was clearly hurt and shocked when you told him those heartbreaking words, and the look of sadness and confusion on his face made your heart break into pieces.

And it broke into even tinier pieces when he tried everything to get you to change your mind.

“We can spend some time apart, but I’ll always be here for you.”

“I can give you some space.”

“Maybe a little break is all we need.”

He really didn’t want to lose you, but you had other plans, ones you thought would make his life and yours easier. If anything, it only made it worse. It took you too long to realize it months had already passed, and for all you know, he could have someone new by now.

You’d text him weekly, and he’d never respond. You’re surprised he hadn’t blocked you yet, but a tiny little piece of you was grateful that he didn’t cause just seeing that he left your messages on seen was enough for you to hold out an ounce of hope.

You saw him three times since the breakup to pick up all your things. You quietly entered his apartment, never sharing information about how you were feeling, nor did he, but he didn’t have to cause you could clearly see the animosity he held for you.

But who are you kidding? You broke up with him with no explanation other than you needing to sort things out. You’d be upset if someone left you like that, too. You realize how much of a shitty thing that was to do, and you’re so sorry for it.

All that being said you hoped he wouldn’t be too upset when he saw you standing outside his door this late at night.

You inhaled a deep breath and knocked on his door. Not even a minute later, you heard the latch click, and the door creaked open soon later, revealing your ex, the most handsome, sweet man you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

His eyes widened for a moment, surprised to see you there, but the shock quickly died down. The look of annoyance taking over his features was quite evident. “What are you doing here?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest and trying his best not to roll his eyes at that half-assed smile you gave him.

Read full story on patreon!

Posting more soon! Sorry for the inactivity🩵

[riddlerosehearts]

sorry in advance for the lengthy comment but this post gave me some thoughts that i hope you don't mind me sharing! i'll be honest, i did still have disney plus until recently and was holding off on cancelling it because i was sharing my account with several of my friends. but then bob iger's greedy ass decided to start charging a fee for sharing your password AND hiked up the price of the subscription so i finally cancelled because my friends and i can all easily pirate stuff and i do not plan on resubbing just for the twst anime!! bob iger also recently admitted that they raised the price of the regular disney plus subscription specifically because advertisers have been getting more interested in streaming so they wanted to try and push people to move to the cheaper ad-supported plan. there's a bunch of old shows they don't even bother to put on there. it's not worth it and if anyone wanted to learn how to torrent i'd be happy to try and show them how easy it is.

however the main thing i wanted to say is that this post reminded me of how when tangled the series was still coming out, it released on the disneyNOW site and if you had disney channel through a TV provider you could watch it on there as soon as it came out. so there were people in the fandom who would screen record it and then upload it on google drive or mega and post the link to it in the tags every time an episode came out so people who didn't have a way to legally watch it could still see it and discuss the new episode with everyone else ASAP. of course the situation here is a bit different since we're asking people to NOT watch the twst anime legally if they can help it, but this has me thinking maybe it'd be good if the twst fandom could make a similar effort to share pirated episodes of the anime for people who might not know how to get them or might not be able to do so on their own for whatever reason. or, if someone still had disney plus because for example their parents are paying for it and they aren't able to make the choice to cancel it, then they could screen record it and share it if they knew how. personally whenever i need to download anime torrents i get them from nyaa.si and i already know i will be checking there as early as possible for the twst anime episodes, so there's a chance that i could upload them and share them--but google drive and mega both have such small storage limits for free users, i probably wouldn't be able to keep every episode uploaded in one place.

Ok but NO MATTER WHAT

I NEED YALL to pirate this

idc if Disney is on the pressure list

DO NOT PAY MONEY TO DISNEY JUST BC YOU WANNA SEE THESE ANIME BOYS

PALESTINIANS ARE STILL SUFFERING AND BEING KILLED

[bucketbueckers]

accounting - azzi fudd

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader (no use of y/n) wc: 2.8k synopsis: you're watching kk and the rest of the team fool around on live when azzi fudd walks in asking for an accounting tutor. deciding to humor it, you're surprised to find that azzi was completely serious, and even more surprised when your offer leads to something more between the two of you. notes: in honor of azzi fudd hoops last night - i was supposed to have this up before the game but i forgot i had a three hour lab and unfortunately i will not write fanfiction in the middle of the university food court. first tumblr post, lmk if we're rockin w it 🙂‍↕️

You’re settling into bed to unwind for the night when you get the TikTok notification.

KK Arnold has gone live!

For the better part of your day, you’ve had your nose in the books, trying to get ahead of your weekly homework. You have a terrible habit of letting most of it pile up during the week and finishing it all over the weekend. As an accounting major, you didn’t really have fun weekend plans, anyway, but it would be nice to lay in bed all day and not worry about something that was due at 11:59. You only had three classes today: managerial accounting, intro to auditing, and intermediate accounting. It wasn’t a rigorous schedule by any means; you were done and out of classes by lunchtime, but after two and a half hours of listening to your professors drone on, you were ready for the nap you couldn’t afford to take due to your piles of homework. 

Seeing the live notification is enough to remind you that you aren’t really that tired, so you click on it. KK’s face fills the screen and she’s unboxing Crumbl cookies. You say a silent prayer for the girls – Crumbl tasted terrible and that was a hill you were willing to die on. Paige sat behind KK, with Ayanna, Jana, Kayla, and a few other players milling about off-camera. For a painful few minutes, KK tries her best to get everyone’s attention so she can narrate about whatever monstrosity of a cookie they’re eating, but everyone’s laughing too hard to fully lock in.

Ayanna leaves to get a knife so KK can cut the cookies evenly. KK entertains the live while Ayanna is away, singing, chatting, and interacting with commenters. When Ayanna finally returns, she has the knife, but Azzi also trails behind her - a fact that the live is definitely appreciative of. “Oh, my God, look who it is!” KK intones in a shrill voice, much to Azzi’s clear bewilderment. You’ve never seen an expression of such confusion on someone’s face before. “It’s Azzi Fudd!”

Azzi buries her face in her hands and moves off-camera as everyone laughs. KK’s voice softens as she asks, “Azzi, wanna try a cookie?”

“No,” Azzi whines.

KK’s entire expression shifts, and admittedly, yours does, too. It’s no secret that Azzi was almost nationally known as the people’s princess. Perhaps you’d have to fight someone. You hope that no one’s actually done something wrong to her – first of all, you can’t even fathom the idea. It’d be like kicking a puppy. Second of all, you were just someone, along with 13,000 other viewers, watching the team interact behind a screen. You were sure that Azzi’s team would handle business, although you were willing to step in if needed, too, even if you stood a solid six inches shorter than Azzi herself. “What happened?” KK asks. Paige echoes her question.

“Ask the live if anyone can tutor me in accounting,” Azzi says forlornly.

You don’t think she’s serious until KK turns back just in time for the cowboy hat to return. “Hey, y’all! Is there anybody who’s really good at accounting for Azzi Fudd? Please send help. If you do have someone who’s really good at accounting, please DM me at k2times TikTok or at kamoreaarnold Instagram or at azzifudd Instagram! Thank yew.” The room dissolves into giggles as KK continues, “And if you DM me with edits or anything else but accounting help, I will block! Thank yew.”

You have the time today, so you switch over to Instagram as the live continues in the background, and you go to Azzi’s page and hit the Message option. You doubt she’ll see it, let alone respond, but as an accounting major, it’s basically your civic duty to help those in need, especially since you know these classes are hell.

hey do u actually need accounting help? i major in it!

Satisfied, you click back over to the live just in time for Azzi to comment, “KK, I might actually have a tutor,” she says in near disbelief. You think nothing of it as KK turns her head, humming at Azzi. “Wait, I think she’s in my class.”

That manages to catch your attention. Sure, you’re watching a live with a couple thousand people on it, but how many of those people are accounting students at UConn who happen to share a class with Azzi Fudd?

An Instagram notification pops up on your screen as Paige leaves the camera frame to most likely peer over Azzi’s shoulder. You’re shocked again to see Azzi has DM’ed you back.

Yes please this homework is killing me Are you in ACCT3201 with Cansler??? I recognize you

Discovering just how unobservant you are should not come as a great surprise. Apparently, you’ve been sharing a class with Azzi Fudd this entire semester and you didn’t even realize it. This is easily the most embarrassing moment of your entire life.

i am i can’t believe i didn’t know u were in it i’m a lot better at accounting than i am at paying attention, i promise

This draws a giggle from Azzi that you can hear over the live. It makes a flush rise on your cheeks. The fact that Azzi Fudd knows who you are combined with the fact she’s laughing at your jokes is enough for a feeling of anticipation to twist in your chest. This is your life now, apparently.

“Azzi is cheesing so bad,” KK teases. You can’t help but feel a little pride at that. “Who’s chatting her up right now? Lemme invite you. Accounting rizz is insane work.”

“Don’t scare away my tutor,” Azzi grumbles, coming back into view of the camera. True to KK’s words, a faint blush has settled on her cheeks. Feeling far too smug, you comment on the live, ‘calling it rizz is crazy, i’m just helping the people.’ Azzi’s eyes scan the screen before rolling slightly. “Look at what you did, KK.”

“Is that her?” KK shrieks. She leans in closer to the screen, blocking out much of the background. “Oh, she fine. Lock in, Azzi; she can help you with more than accounting.”

At that, you and Azzi both blush a deep scarlet red and Azzi turns on her heel. “Goodbye, KK!” The room dissolves into rambunctious laughter as Azzi walks out, calling, “I’m going to finish my homework!”

A moment passes before Azzi messages you again.

I’m so sorry about KK, she’s feral

You swipe away from the live again, grinning slightly. In your DMs, the typing bubbles appear for a few short moment. You heart her most recent message in the meantime.

Will you please help me? I genuinely don’t understand what I’m doing wrong

Yes, you’ve spent most of the day in classes and doing homework. Yes, you’re tired. Yes, you really only joined the live to unwind. But when Azzi asks for help, you can’t really say no to her.

of course, are u working on this week’s homework set?

Her affirmative response is swift, telling you what she’s having trouble with. Your fingers hesitate on your screen, trying to figure out how to put your thoughts into words before settling.

i know this is incredibly forward but would u want to ft? i can explain better verbally

Azzi sends you her number. After tonight’s events, you really shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but you can’t help it. Azzi is a nationally (and internationally) recognized college basketball player and, until now, you were just a girl who watched her team’s TikTok lives and cheered in the student section. Azzi had seemed so untouchable, by virtue of her celebrity and your lack thereof; it’s hard to believe you’re this close to her now, even if it’s just to help her with accounting homework.

The two of you talk well into the night, even hours after Azzi submits her problem sets successfully and she understands the material. You feel like you get to see a side of her so rarely seen by other people who aren’t her teammates. She’s softer, with a beaming smile on her face when she finally understands a difficult concept. There’s something so alluring about the way she speaks that you can’t help but listen to every single thing that comes out of her mouth, ranging from her frustrated rants to the smoothness of her giggle. The lamplight reflects off of the lenses of the glasses perched on her nose and you think she’s so incredibly beautiful – bare-faced and slightly delirious from staying up so late.

When the two of you finally hang up half past three, you can’t wipe the smile off your face, and somehow, you just know that this is the start of something new.

From then on, your friendship with Azzi all but flourishes. She’s incredibly sweet, soft-spoken, and so deliberate in the way she moves and speaks to you. When your next accounting class rolls around, she finds the seat next to yours, asking to sit there with an almost shy expression. When there’s lulls in the lecture, you entertain her with jokes, drawing red-cheeked giggles that she has to stifle. You’re almost like her personal TA, sitting next to her and clarifying concepts that she doesn’t understand. It helps you, too; the best study advice you’d ever received was to teach it to someone else. 

Your friendship progresses outside of the lecture room and outside of your texts. You both spend a lot of time in the library, studying in peace together or enjoying lunch in each other's company. You always thought Azzi was gorgeous, but now that you know her on a far more personal level, falling for her was a near guarantee. The far-away admiration transformed into something pure, genuine. You couldn’t imagine Azzi returning those feelings — she’s far too busy, too committed to ball — so you keep your rapidly growing crush close to your chest. 

You’ve always showed up to the UConn games, though there’s something distinctly different about them now. Azzi was never one for grand celebrations or trash talk in the way Paige was. She was intentional and lowkey, which is why you feel like you could float when she makes direct eye contact with you in the student section, throwing up three fingers to celebrate a particularly deep three. It’s why you cheese when she finds you after the game, after she’s showered and changed, and asks if you want to get ice cream with her. The better question was how could you refuse?

Azzi deliberates between vanilla and cookie dough for a long while before settling on the latter. Even as the clerk fills her bowl, she stares at the the vanilla and your choice of ice cream becomes obvious. Azzi stares at you as the clerk fills your bowl with vanilla. “What? It’s my favorite flavor,” you lie, and her lips quirk up as she studies you. 

“Said literally no one ever,” she says wryly. The clerk hands you the bowl and Azzi swipes her card before you have the chance to even contemplate otherwise. When you stare at her in disbelief, her smile widens and all fight leaves your body. What were you supposed to do about that? You were a puddle for pretty women — a puddle for Azzi, honestly — and your resolve should be commended for maintaining months of friendship with Azzi. 

The two of you find a secluded booth towards the back of the ice cream shop. Azzi shares her midterm grade — a solid 100, and you whistle lowly. “I got an 89,” you say, not hurt by it at all. As long as it was above an 80, you could care less. “You sure you still need me?”

Azzi swirls her ice cream around her bowl, suddenly quiet. The realization dawns on you immediately. Your words were meant to be a joke, but the truth to them stuns you. You really hoped Azzi would say, ‘of course not, it’s not like that!’ but her silence keeps you guessing. 

“I have a confession to make,” she says after a beat, finally glancing up at you. The vulnerability and nervousness makes your heart fall out of your ass. “Promise it won’t make anything weird?”

You open your mouth just to close it again. You clear your throat. “Promise, Az,” you say finally. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she says quickly. “Um, so here’s the thing. I struggled a lot with the first problem set. You know, the one I needed the tutor for?” You nod, confused by her words. “You helped a lot. And, like, I haven’t really needed actual tutoring in weeks. I just really liked spending time with you.” You blink at her. She stares at you right back, brows furrowed with guilt and her doe eyes wide. “I’m sorry. You must feel like I wasted your time.”

At that, you can’t help but laugh, and Azzi pouts. “Az. I thought you were about to dump me,” you explain. “Plus, I kinda figured after a while we were just like, studying together, and not me actually tutoring.”

She sighs, burying her face in her hands. You laugh again, pushing your leftover ice cream towards her. Azzi glances up again, her eyes soft and fond. “I guess I just wanted an excuse for you to stick around.”

“You never needed one,” you tell her honestly, and a blush creeps up her neck. 

“You’re not really picking up what I’m putting down, are you?”

Her words almost make you recoil. It’s no secret at this point that you can be a little oblivious, but her words make your heart skip a beat. “Az, I have no idea what you’re putting down,” you admit.

“So, I just admitted to you that I liked spending time with you and lied about needing study help just so I’d have an excuse to hang out with you,” Azzi confirms. “We are sitting here, alone, after a game while my teammates celebrate at Ted’s. All of that, and you have no idea what I’m putting down?”

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” you say smartly. 

“Yeah.”

“So, you like me?” you ask just to be one hundred percent sure. 

She smiles at you. You’re certain your heart almost stops beating. “How could I not?” she asks like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You make me laugh. You’re always so patient with me, you make me feel seen — like I can just be myself. It’s… hard to find something genuine like this. You don’t expect anything from me.”

“I just want you to be happy,” you say simply. 

Her eyes confirm everything for you. You’re not observant, sure, but your main priority has always been what was directly in front of you. And right now, it’s hard to focus on anything that’s not Azzi. Azzi’s eyes are so soft, kinder than anything you’ve ever seen before. They hold so much understanding but there’s also a silent plea of let this be mutual that you’re too happy to give into. 

“I’ve been falling for you for a while,” you admit, and her face brightens. Your shoulders feel lighter; carrying around your feelings has burdened you, but if it’s the price you had to pay to make sure Azzi felt comfortable and that she could have friendships without people taking advantage of her celebrity, then so be it. You’d bear a lot more for her if it ever came down to it. “I kept it to myself for a while,” you continued. “You deserve normal. A friendship without expectations. But, God, Az, how could anyone not fall for you?”

Azzi’s cheeks flush a pretty red. You can’t help but smile at her, growing a little braver, and you slide your hand across the table. She wastes no time before intertwining your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

She walks you home that night, refusing to let go of you until you’re halfway through your doorstep. She stops you; her height would be intimidating if you didn’t know she was the sweetest person to ever walk the earth. “Can I…” She trails off, her hands gentle on your waist. 

You don’t need much more convincing — you loop your arms around her neck and tug her down to your height, planting your lips on hers with a softness that she eagerly reciprocates. You can taste the vanilla on her lips, the sweetness of the cookie dough, and the promise of something distinctly reminiscent of Azzi Fudd. You’re suddenly thankful for KK’s stupid live, for Crumbl cookie, for the accounting class you shared together. It’s all led you to where you are now, in Azzi’s arms outside of your apartment, overcome with the knowledge that all of this is so new, but you have everything you could have possibly wanted.

(You ask her to officially be your girlfriend two weeks after that, having been on three dates since — it’s only after you pop the question and the two of you are settling in to watch a movie that she admits to you the real reason she was struggling so bad with the problem sets was because she’d spend entire lecture periods staring at you. You roll your eyes, feeling inexplicably cared for in a way you haven’t experienced before Azzi, and your only true response to her confession is the lingering kiss you place on her lips.)

[s-rosie]

AVERY HCSSSSS

i thought our leading lady needed more appreciation so i made these hcs. a lot of these are with avery and another character so lmk if you still like these. enjoyyyyy 🤌✨

avery got braces after she got the money bc she couldn’t afford them before and she was a little insecure about them but jameson thought they were really cute

she used to hate the scars from the times when people tried to kill her but as time went on she learned to love them

i hc hawthorne house had a trampoline park and her and xander had a sleepover in there where they played taylor swift and jumped until xander broke his arm trying to do a triple backflip

her and max always scream when they hop on a call that’s on speaker so they don’t spill the tea when everyone can here

avery is chronically addicted to block blast and she has the highest score you can possibly get on the game (me fr 😭💀)

when she was hooked up to the life support machines after the plane bombing she made a bunch of pictures and videos that she never posted but just bc she thought they were funny (they really weren’t she was just high from the meds)

oren had to teach her how to pick locks and she told him it was just because she needed to open a door but wouldn’t let him do it himself (she lost the keys to jameson’s handcuffs and needed to get him out)

she always has at least one airpod in at all times and always looses them around hawthorne house

she once had a “dream” (😏😏😏) about jameson but she was having a sleepover with libby and max and libby was like “why were you moving around and making noise last night” and ave was like “i was probably just sleep talking” but max knew what was really going on and never let it go

avery switches her aesthetic like every month and switches her room decor/wardrobe with that aesthetic

she has like 50000 pillows on her bed and jameson gets so confused about which he’s allowed to sleep on bc she doesn’t want him to ruin the decorative pillows

ave is an amazing actress and can fake cry on the spot so when she needs to win something she fake cries and jameson knows her fake cry and he doesn’t go over to her to comfort her so her plan will work

she’s allergic to shellfish and she learned that when she ate some at a gala and she started having a reaction and she broke out in hives and was struggling to breath but thankfully oren had an epi pen with him so she didn’t die

she enforces a rule around hawthorne house about no shoes bc she thinks it’s nasty so everyone just slides around in socks like an ice skating rink (they actually think it’s really fun so no one complains)

she loves water bottles and has a whole cabinet dedicated to her water bottles

she has tumblr and a03 accounts that she stayed anonymous on that she kept when she got the inheritance bc no one knew it was her and she needed to rant about her books and write fics and stuff and they said stuff like “omg jameson is such a book boyfriend” and “i want to date him” she was just like yeah so do i… (she was keeping it a secret from the hawthorne s but they eventually found it and made fun of her spicy fics and xander ended up being one of her moots under an anonymous account bc they read the same books)

her and grayson watch shows like the golden girls and i love lucy together bc they love the old style

one time her nash found her✨spicy✨texts with jameson and never let her let them go

sry this is kinda short but i’m sick rn so i’m trying to get my rest but i hope you like theseeee

[dani-ya-dig]

Something that I really love about Sam, and have always loved since I listened to his first video, is how he entirely subverts the expectations for vampires. Not just modern day ones but the expectations that have always been there for vampires.

(And his southern accent but that’s not what this post is about)

When vampires first rose to popularity, what they represented was a fear of sexuality. They were inherently sexual creatures of the night who lured innocent people into the shadows with their powers of seduction only to drink their blood.

We even see this in most of the redacted vampires. Vincent was literally introduced as “the flirty vampire”. While later he was given some depth and we learn that he just picked up that act from Porter, it was still an integral part of him in the beginning. Even Alexis, as little from her as we have heard, she speaks in a very low, sultry tone. Even when she isn’t trying to be flirtatious.

This is a very inherent part of vampires some lore even describes it as a power that they have. (I believe this is addressed within Castle Audios lore as “the lure”)

But Sam doesn’t have that. He isn’t flirty. He isn’t seductive. Not in the traditional way anyways. (Because HOO BOY AM I SEDUCED)

Sam doesn’t try to lure Darlin in when they first meet. He doesn’t really try to lure darlin at all, really. They just naturally grew close. It was active flirtation, it was just chemistry and care.

Even when they do admit their feelings for each other Sam still doesn’t want to have sex. He hadn’t for over a decade, and the last person he had sex with stole his life away from him. Of course he didn’t feel comfortable.

And I think this all helps to portray the most important part of Sam’s backstory.

He wasn’t supposed to be a vampire.

He never planned on being turned. He didn’t want Alexis to turn him. He never wanted to be that.

The same could be said for Vincent, he didn’t wanted to be turned either. He wasn’t given a choice. However, Vincent still took on that flirty vampire persona.

I think this illustrates the difference in how Vincent and Sam grew into their turning over time. Vincent, while extremely depressed in the beginning of his turning, grew into it. He eventually learned to accept himself as a vampire, and even embrace it. I think him taking on that traditional, flirty vampire act, was his way of embracing what he now was.

Lovely’s part in Vincent’s character growth, rather than teaching him to accept himself as a vampire, was helping him to learn that he didn’t have to be someone new just because his mortal self is dead.

Sam, while he accepted the fact that he was a vampire passively, he never really embraced it as part of himself. I think this is really well illustrated by how he handled feeding before he fed from Darlin. “I’ve never been one to savor the taste. I just chug it like a supplement and pour a cup of something I actually like the taste of”. (That was paraphrased pls don’t hurt me if I got something wrong). He accepts that he needs blood to survive but he is going to incorporate it into his life passively, and focus on the things he actually likes. He accepts that he is a vampire, but he won’t take it as a part of himself.

I think this is even shown well in Sam choice to “chose morality” (as it was put in the trigger warnings of that one video, still hung up on that btw) rather than live forever. He accepts that he is immortal, but he isn’t going to embrace it.

To Sam vampirism isn’t a part of himself, it’s just something that was done to him. Like a giant scar that covers his body, his face, his eyes, even his core. It still isn’t him.

The way that Darlin plays into Sam’s character growth, I think has potential to change this and I think it’s something interesting to explore.

So far Darlin already has played a pretty big part in Sam’s character growth. Before meeting them he was closed off. Isolating himself from pretty much everyone but a few people in his clan. Darlin has brought him out of that. He now has people, he has the pack. While he does love Vincent and Lovely (and possibly Fred and Bright but we will never know what happened with them), it’s important to have people outside of the ones that you are forced to interact with by circumstance. Especially if said circumstances are horribly traumatic for you.

Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and all that.

However, I think Darlin inadvertently helping Sam to embrace the vampiric aspects of himself is interesting concept. Especially now that Sam has fed from Darlin, and enjoyed it, and saw how much his mate enjoyed. I think Sam slowly accepting vampirism is absolutely a possibility in the future.

If it ever happens or not I will still adore Sam’s character all the same.

Anyways this was a really long winded way of explaining that I like how Sam subverts the typical tropes with vampires, and I appreciate how it ties into his turning being non-consensual. I like to rant if people haven’t picked up on that already lmao.

Also I miss my girlfriend. Erik bring Sam back home immediately.