#you didn't know you were going to be reading a book when you asked

[mariasont]

A Puddle in Running Shoes A.H.

summary: your boyfriend finds out you have a praise kink and is having way too much fun with that information

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: some suggestive content, hotch being a menace, reader having a praise kink, end suggests something may happen but nothing explicit in this one folks im getting my libido under control swear, also count how many times r refers to hotch's face as stupid im crying

wc: 1.9k

You hated running. No—loathed it. Detested it. Despised it with every fiber of your being. If there was a stronger word, one that captured the burning, irrational rage you felt whenever someone suggested going for a jog, Spencer might have known it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to ask. Simply put, running was not your thing.

But when Aaron—your boyfriend and somehow the most persistent man alive—asked you to join you on a run, you couldn't exactly say no. He didn't beg—Aaron Hotchner did not beg—but his version of asking, that soft it'd mean a lot to me paired with an encouraging smile, was close enough to begging in your book. Besides, you figured there'd be some sort of reward when you got back home. Aaron was good at those.

So here you were, contributing absolutely nothing to your marathon-obsessed, fitness-loving FBI boyfriend's training. Sweat coated every inch of your body, your legs felt like lead, and your lungs burned with every ragged breath you managed to suck in. The sun blazed overhead, making you feel more like a roasting chicken than a willing participant in this so-called fun activity.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness ad—shirt clinging to him in ways that felt outright scandalous. Even the sweat on his face somehow made him look even more attractive.

He was at least ten paces ahead of you and every few steps, he'd glance over his shoulder, probably checking to make sure you hadn't spontaneously combusted or snuck off to find an air-conditioned cafe. Honestly, both were real possibilities.

Aaron's pace slowed until he was running beside you, throwing you a smile so unfairly handsome it made your legs feel weaker than they already did.

"How are you feeling?" The question felt retorical—anyone, profiler or not, was sure to be able to read you like an open book right now. "Still alive, or do I need to start figuring out the best way to carry you home without breaking any traffic laws?"

"I think I'm alive," you managed between gasps, wiping sweat from your brow. "But if carrying me is on the table, I'm not above playing dead to make that happen."

"Not necessary—I'd carry you anyway, if only to reward you for keeping up this long. You're doing great."

You foot caught a crack in the pavement, nearly hurling yourself into it, but Aaron's hand was there quicker keeping you upright as you tried to ignore the terrifying way your body had reacted to his compliment.

"Okay you can't just say stuff like that while I'm trying to run," you blurted out, avoiding his gaze. "You're trying to kill me, I swear."

You planted your hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath, secretly relieved to have a break—even if it almost involved a face-first meeting with the sidewalk.

"Stuff like what?" He tugged at your ponytail and you swatted his hand.

"Nothing," you said way too quickly, shaking your head like you could physically toss what you said aside. "Forget I said anything. Let's just... keep running."

You quickly realized your mistake as soon as you started jogging again. You would never willingly suggest to keep running. Unfortunately, Aaron was actively aware of this, moving to come up beside you. You didn't need to look at him to know he had the stupidest smirk on his face.

He didn't say anything at first, to your immediate relief, just kept jogging beside you. The silence stretched on, his calm breathing only seeming to make your wheezing sound worse.

"You're breathing too shallow," he said after a moment, his tone completely casual like he wasn't even winded. "Try to take deeper breaths—match them to your strides. It'll make it easier."

You glanced towards him out of the corner of your eye before attempting his suggestion. You had no intention of letting him know that it worked. His ego was far too substantial for that.

"See? You're a natural," he said, shooting you a sidelong glance. "Atta girl."

Your brain flatlined and you almost tripped over your feet again, every rational thought replaced by static. What was wrong with you? You vaguely remembered reading somewhere that people with unresolved daddy issues were prone to developing praise kinks. Was that what this was? Whatever the reason, hearing Aaron talk like that shouldn't make you feel all gooey inside, but here you were, a puddle in running shoes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yup, fine!"

You stared at the ground so intensely, it was a miracle you didn't bore a hole into the pavement. Your voice had betrayed you, far too shaky and way too rushed, and you knew Aaron was probably filing away every bit of your reaction.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand brushing against the back of your neck as he spoke. "Stop staring at the ground. You'll run better if you keep your head up—it'll open your chest so you can breathe easier."

His hand lingered for a second too long than what your body could handle, leaving you completely flustered and fighting every urge to do exactly the opposite of what he said.

"There you go," he murmured, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. "That's good, honey. Just like that."

His voice—his god forsaken voice—was like a jolt to your system, and not in a good way. Or maybe it was a good way, which was the problem. It was bad enough to hearing it out here, on the jogging trail, but your brain decided to replay it in an entirely different inappropriate context: one that involved you, him, and a bed.

Your face burned, and you couldn't tell if it was from the exertion, or the very real possibility that your body was too receptive to those words. And now, not only were you fighting for every breath, but you were trying to figure out if the dampness between your legs was entirely from sweat. Surely it was sweat. Right? Gods, you hoped it was sweat.

You stopped so suddenly that Aaron jogged a few steps ahead before he realized you were not longer beside him.

"Okay, I'm calling it. I'm done. Can we please go home now?"

He jogged back to you, an easy smile on his face, and placed his hands on your shoulders as he reached you.

"Alright, we can be done," he teased, thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones. "You survived, and you did great. I'm proud of you."

He leaned down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips that made the ache in your body a little easier to ignore.

When he pulled away, you barely managed to keep standing.

Aaron let out a low laugh, his hands squeezing your shoulders. "Alright. What's going on? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said over your shoulder, practically power walking towards the car.

Aaron's laugh deepened and you ignored the funny feeling curling in your chest.

"Sweetheart," he said, gently tugging your elbow to slow you down. "Come on, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm fine!" You avoided his eyes as you tugged your elbow free. "I'm just tired, and, uh, need a shower."

A cold shower, your brain screamed, but you shoved the thought down.

"I know, I know you're tired," he said, lips curving into a smile, "but that's because you actually pushed yourself. I'm proud of you for sticking with it."

You were pretty convinced you were you were about to go up in flames. Your obituary would read death by too many unnecessary compliments. When your heart inevitably gave out, Aaron would have to explain to Rossi and the others how his dumb smile and sweet words had resulted in second degree manslaughter.

But then you saw it—the smirk. The one that said he absolutely knew what he was doing.

"Oh my gosh, you know!" You groaned and threw your hands in the air. "You know, and you're enjoying this!"

Spinning away from him, you stormed to the car, and slammed the door like it might shield you from his stupidly smug face.

You barely had time to exhale before the passenger door swung open, revealing Aaron, casually leaning against the car.

"You know," he said lightly, his tone far too casual for your liking, "slamming car doors isn't a great habit. You could hurt yourself."

"And you know," you snapped back, pointing at him, "torturing your girlfriend isn't a great habit either!"

He leaned in slowly, his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he grabbed your seatbelt. As he clicked it into place, his face lingered close to yours.

"I wasn't trying to torture you, baby. Just wanted to give you the chance to admit it—that you liked it."

Before you could muster a reply, Aaron's hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb moving along your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was so deep, leaving you no choice but to sink into it, even as the faint remnants of your annoyance tried to surface.

By the time he pulled back, you felt like you were under his spell. Then, without another word, he shut your door and headed to the driver's side.

"That's not fair," you muttered, crossing your arms and pouting as you stared out the window.

Aaron's hand found the back of your neck as he backed out of the parking spot, rubbing gently into smooth circles.

"I don't mean to be unfair," he said with a small smile. "I just needed to hear it, because sometimes people don't even realize what they need until they say it out loud. And I wanted to make sure I didn't misread anything—though I'm rarely wrong, as you know."

"Trust me, you remind me every chance you get." Your tone was dry, but you were well aware that the twitch in your lip was giving you away.

"Alright, smartass," he said, chuckling as his fingers pressed a little firmer into your neck. "Now tell me—how does it make you feel when I say those things to you?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I don't know, okay? I just... like it! Do I have to explain it?"

"You don't have to explain it if you don't want to," he said, "but I'd like to know what it is you like so much."

Aaron's hand moved from your neck to your hand, his fingers sliding between each of yours while his eyes stayed glued to the road, a thing that only came from months of familiar motions.

You let out a long breath. "I don't know. I just like hearing it. It makes me feel good. Special, I guess."

"You are special, sweetheart." His eyes flicked to you before returning to the road. "You're my best girl."

Your stomach flipped violently. You shifted again, trying to disguise the way your thighs pressed together tightly as your face burned hotter than ever. The debate earlier in your head was officially over—absolutely not just sweat, you thought miserably.

Aaron let out a soft chuckle, fingers brushing over your knuckles. "Something I said?"

You swatted his shoulder, your glare losing all its bite thanks to the flush all over your body. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"I can't help it," he murmured, voice dipping just enough to get you on edge. "But don't worry—I'll take care of my best girl once we're home."

You slumped in your seat, muttering something unintelligible that made Aaron chuckle again. And even though you wouldn't admit it, you found yourself smiling, already dreading and anticipating whatever he had planned when you got home.

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @pansexualhailstorm @averyhotchner @looking1016 @everythinglizzy @sky2nd @alexxavicry @spencerssatchel @candyd1es @storiesofsvu @pleasantgardenwitch @kodzukenmaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spennciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @jstcln @just-here-to-read13 @c-losur3 @wondergal2001 @oliver-1270 @ssahotchbabe @savagemickey03 @justanotherbimboslxt @imoonkiss @estragos @khxna @de-duchess @raysmayhem-72 @piinksdoll @justyourusualash @whimsicalpolitical @kcch-ns @cool-light32 @reidfile @sugarbutterbailey @ssamorganhotchner @persephonestears @moonyxstars @spookyysinsanity @proxxyshouse @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @imsonotweird @jungchloe @she-wont-miss @duchesz @may-machin99 @historicallyweirdandqueer @in-the-kosmos @lcvealwayss @p13rc3-th3-m4tt13 @babyhoneybyhs @reire11

join my taglist here!

[lightseoul]

a/n. once again, i have been inspired by a random instagram reel. i didn't even watch it, really—i just saw the keyword and was immediately spurred into writing this. enjoy <3 (0.9k)

you feel his gaze on you before you even think of meeting it.

“what,” you state more than ask when he doesn’t let up after a minute, not bothering to look up from the book you’re reading.

a scoff resounds from his direction. then: “too lazy to even move your shitty eyes?”

“don’t have to,” you retort as you finally close the paperback, shifting in your bed to regard him. “you’re boring holes into my face with all that staring.”

from where he’s seated at your dining table, bakugou grumbles, although he doesn’t deny the allegations. your face softens when you realize belatedly that he’s being awfully quiet—a jarring juxtaposition to his usual brashness.

something’s up.

but you know better than to pry it from him.

you mentally sigh. the roundabout way it is.

“what, am i extra pretty today?” you joke out of your ass, and that catches him off guard because he chokes on his own spit. that wasn’t part of the plan but you can’t help it—you laugh as he coughs his lungs out, somehow managing to throw in a curse or two in between rasps.

“shitty fucking—” he hacks some more, and when he finally recovers: “i don’t know why i fucking put up with you.”

you shrug, not at all hurt by the otherwise scathing statement. he’s said that to you too many times to count and yet, he’s still here. hanging out with you in your apartment on a friday night, no less.

you don’t point out any of that, though, confident that said knowledge is true enough for the both of you to leave it unspoken. so instead, you continue down the jesting route. “you wouldn’t know how to talk to girls without me, that’s why.”

“fuck off,” he tosses without missing a beat. “i can get the fuck by without your shitty ass guidance.”

that makes you grin, because no, he definitely can’t. how can he when he refuses to do the very first step? as in, choose a girl to talk to?

you know, someone who isn’t you.

his reluctant (best) friend.

and as if he read your mind, he shoots you a pointed look. “and i told you,” he hisses, “you use up all my fuckin’ tolerance. can’t have another girl around because you drive me crazy enough.”

“thanks, kats. i love you, too.”

“whatever,” he answers petulantly as he looks away, although you catch wind of the faint tinge of pink spreading across his cheeks like it always does when you shower him with affection—to his chagrin.

“so…” you start when neither of you says anything for a moment, “am i extra pretty today? or do you wanna share, i don’t know, something.”

“if i spit it out, will you fucking stop badgering me about how you look? you haven’t even showered today, for fuck’s sake.”

a pillow is flung across the room before you can think against it.

“wha—” he gets out instinctively before dodging it with ease. you roll your eyes as he flashes you a victorious smirk. of course. of all the jobs he could have in the world, he had to be a pro-hero and have the signature pro-hero reflexes.

his countenance then morphs as he stares at you expectantly, waiting for an answer, and you have to bite back the fuck you that’s dangling at the tip of your tongue. instead, you give him a curt nod, feigning nonchalance to further coax him into spilling whatever’s in his mind.

“go on,” you press when he doesn’t follow it up immediately after.

“i’m getting to it, alright? jesus.”

a pause.

then, another.

and when you’re finally convinced he’s just playing with you and won’t reveal whatever secret he’s got hidden behind the vault he calls his lips, he says it.

“i’m getting a vasectomy.”

you blink at him.

that was not what you were expecting.

“wh—what?”

you can only watch him in utter bewilderment as he flushes, covering up his fluster with a glare. “you heard me.”

“but, kats,” you begin, not knowing how to say the next bit, “…you’re a virgin. and you’ve never been with anyone romantically.”

the pink from earlier instantly deepens into a scarlet. “so what, hah? you’re the one to talk!”

“no, no,” you manage to respond, slowly shaking your head. you have no idea what’s happening. “that wasn’t meant to be a roast. like, at all. it’s just…why?”

bakugou doesn’t answer right away, instead choosing to press his lips into a thin line.

“you said it yourself, didn’t you?” he says after a while, voice uncharacteristically hushed, as if he doesn’t want you to hear him. you lean in ever so minutely, straining to listen from a few feet away.

“said wait?” you ask, matching the stillness of his tone.

“that birth control fucks you up.”

at that, you barely manage to school your shock into a neutral expression, although it’s definitely your heart that’s suddenly hammering wildly against your chest at his admission. you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. his gaze is dizzyingly penetrating as you struggle to get your words out, until you finally manage a warbled “y-yeah.”

he probably meant that birth control fucks you—women—up, and not you you.

yeah, that’s definitely it.

with this new strand of knowledge, you’re able to muster a genuine smile his way. “that’s very thoughtful of you, kats.”

and just because you like to be sure of things, you throw in the next thing for good measure.

“she’ll be very lucky to have you.”

silence.

“hah?!”

(the keyword was vasectomy lol) (petition for more birth control methods for men)

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra

[wolfjackle]

You know the story of mine, right? But it's fun regardless and I do love telling it. Your sister helped me (sorta) did you know that part?

So, your sister was trying to convince me to get on Gaia or Neopets or both back when we first met and I agreed. But I had zero clue what I wanted to make my username. I freeze up and go head-empty, no-thoughts when asked to name something. At least I do if it's "important." (Not that internet usernames are necessarily important, but it felt like it was.) I distinctly remember sitting in the cafeteria at lunch with her being like "what do I do???"

So I was reading these books from a series called The Magickers at that exact moment and there were these horrible nightmare creatures that kept attacking the main characters called wolfjackals. I decided "what the hell, why not?" and used it.

Only...I misspelled it. I didn't realize jackal was -al and not -le. Didn't realize the error for....far too long. And by that point? I was attached. Been using it ever since.

Do I remember much about the books? Nope. GoodReads rates them, like, 3 stars, so I'm not even gonna recommend them. It was one of those regular kids go off to an institute to learn magic stories that cropped up post Harry Potter, set at a summer camp if I remember right. I really enjoyed them at the time, though, and they gave me my username. So I'll always be grateful to them for that!

I'll tag...

@hailsatanacab @flipwizardstarlight @gremlin-bot @flowerparrish and anyone else who has a fun story they want to share!

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well

[redeemingvillains]

of magic & mayhem - mattheo riddle

summary: the strongest wizard of your age also happens to be hogwarts' playboy, and when he sets his sights on you, you realize neither of you have a choice in the matter.

word count: 3k

a/n: this is like nine of my concepts all mashed into one! heavily influenced by my re-read of fourth wing in preparation for onyx storm coming out, anyone who wants to scream about that in my inbox, please do <3

The Great Hall echoed with the excited chatter of friends and classmates and the general cacophony of breakfast; the sounds of scraping cutlery and the clink of dishes and goblets. You and Pansy sat in genial silence as you read your book and she eyed the gossip column of the Daily Prophet.

You were so totally transfixed on your book that you didn't see the looming figure in front of you until he placed his hands on the oak table and leaned casually across it into your airspace.

"Good morning" he drawled smoothly in a deep voice that caused you to glace up only to see Mattheo Riddle's large amber eyes twinkling at you, matched with a smirk that made you feel like you had pixies in your stomach.

You could smell his cologne from this distance, an undeniable mix of woodsmoke, evergreen and cinnamon that made you feel heady.

"Pansy" he acknowledged, nodding at her as she glanced up at him with a surprise that matched your own.

"Mrs. Riddle" he said, acknowledging you as his electric gaze found yours. You felt a deep blush on your cheeks, even as your face scrunched in confusion and your eyes searched his face for a hint of a joke, finding none.

"What did you just call me?" you asked, cocking your head. As much as you tried to supress it, a small smile graced your lips, which didn't go unnoticed.

"What?" he said in mock surprise. "You don't like it? I think it's perfect."

A pause.

"It suits you" he said confidently. He winked at you as your eyebrows shot up and he turned and walked away without another word.

You turned to look at Pansy who was open-mouthed gaping after him before turning to look at you.

"What was that!?" she exclaimed, excited, like you knew something she didn't.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes despite the hammering of your heart in your chest.

"He's a complete flirt, Pans, I'm not putting a lot of weight in whatever he's woken up and decided to say today."

But even as the words came out of your mouth, you couldn't help but feel excited that you'd caught his attention, even if you knew how delicately dangerous it could be.

"But Mrs. Riddle?! Please. I am dying oh my gods!" she said.

"No, we're not even thinking about this. Not unless you want to listen to me cry myself to sleep in three weeks when I've completely fallen for him and he's moved on to someone else. We all know how this goes and I'm not stupid enough to fall for it."

Pansy pursed her lips as she bounced in her seat with excitement, like she was going to explode.

"Okay, but maybe, just hear me out—" she started.

"—No" you said emphatically, as much to her as to yourself.

She stuck her tongue out at you and you returned the gesture.

It was no secret you were sought after; you had your fair share of dates and suitors. And it was no secret that Mattheo Riddle took the concept of incredibly hot fuckboy to another level, which is why, despite his comment and increasingly insistent stares you kept your distance.

Try as you might to forget what he said, or the way his dark eyes had twinkled mischievously as they drank you in, you found your thoughts drifting to him more times than you'd care to admit, and he had no intention of making it any easier for you, because now every time he saw you, he made a point of using your new nickname.

"Good morning, Mrs. Riddle" he said as he passed you in the Great Hall the next day.

"Have a good day, Mrs. Riddle!" he shouted from the opposite side of the common room, which garnered a significant amount of attention and whispers.

"Let me get the door for you, Mrs. Riddle" he said, pushing your classmates out of the way to do so.

"Mmm, gorgeous as ever, Mrs. Riddle" he whispered walking by you in the library in a way that felt like the words themselves danced over every inch of your body.

Pansy was nearly inconsolable over the situation, egging it on eagerly and even picking it up herself.

"Good night, Mrs. Riddle" she said to you as you crawled into bed in your shared dormitory.

"Lay off it, Pansy! Gods" you replied, even as you grinned like an idiot to yourself.

But then she wasn't the only one.

After less than a week of it, the rumor spread like fiendfyre and now Mattheo's friends were smirking at you in the corridor, waving teasingly to you in the common room and offering you every ounce of preferential treatment befitting of the name: knocking Potter off his chair when he took your seat in Potions, forcing a first-year to stand outside your dormitory holding your favorite latte every morning, and ensuring you had a coveted first row seat at their quidditch matches, including the House Cup, which you were excitedly getting ready for when Pansy burst into your room.

"You will never guess what I just heard" she said, grabbing you by the shoulders.

"What's that?" you asked, humoring her frenetic energy.

"Astoria Greengrass having a sob in the girls lav. You know how she and Mattheo have hooked up a few times?—"

You didn't, in fact, know that and couldn't help the pang of jealousy that gripped your chest.

"—Well I heard her telling Penelope Clearwater that he says he doesn't want to anymore and he told Harmony Norman and Maria Warner the same thing!"

Your face tangled in disgust.

"How many girls is he hooking up with? And why do you look so happy about it? What a mess…" you said, sighing as you turned to resume your makeup.

"Why, all of a sudden is he breaking all of them off, hmm?" she said, cocking an eyebrow at you in your mirror.

"I don't know" you said shiftily. "Maybe he's trying to be a better person?!—"

"—Or maybe he has his eyes set on someone else?!" she said insistently. "You know, someone he's given a special nickname to, his name to?"

You opened your mouth to argue with her but you couldn't deny the logic of her statement.

The boys pulled it off, sweeping Gryffindor in the House Cup for the first time in years and the ensuing celebration was electric.

The music in the common room was loud enough to sway the chandeliers in the ceiling, to feel the bass vibrating in your body.

Every Slytherin you knew and quite a few friends from other houses were there, the normally cavernous room filled in a way that made it feel like some sort of night club, bodies covering every inch of space, melding and weaving between each other and raising the temperature of the normally dank dungeon air.

You couldn't help but search the flashing lights and otherwise utter chaos for Mattheo and you didn't have to look for long the way he stood a head taller than almost everyone in the room, even surrounded by his large teammates; not to mention the way they were walking around like kings, taking turns chugging champagne out of their trophy, raucous, rowdy and loud as people cheered around them.

Mattheo himself was in rare form, his handsome curls were slightly askew and his cheeks were rosy from the alcohol and general liveliness of the night. He was dressed in a fitted black tshirt and dark pants and was exuding an energy that was magnetic, even from where you were standing; undeniably, your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of him.

Had you gotten a little dressed up? Of course. It was a celebration, an occasion, why wouldn't you? But as you wound through the sea of bodies, fingers twined in Pansy's, you garnered enough stares and double-takes that had you thinking you may have slightly overdone it.

"Oh, okay queen!" Pansy had said the minute she'd seen your outfit, the way you'd done your makeup and styled your hair, knowing, perhaps, exactly what or who had been on your mind.

You stopped to grab a drink and your cup had barely touched your lips before two guys came up to you that you recognized vaguely from the year below you. They were admittedly cute and you smiled as they compliment you and chatted with you. You leaned in closer to hear them over the music and the crowd and the one closest to you ducked his head toward you when you felt a tingle run from the base of your neck down your spine and a large, warm hand wound its way around your waist, pulling you firmly backwards into what felt like a pliable brick wall. You were startled for only a moment until you caught the undeniable scent of evergreen, of cinnamon.

"Brian is it? Blake? Blaire? Why don't you go get a drink, buddy?" his voice rumbled near your ear, more of a command than a suggestion as Bradley's eyes shot up over your shoulder to the shadow looming there and nodded quickly, retreating.

"Aww" you pouted sarcastically as you turned around. "He was nice, we were having fun!"

You met Mattheo's eyes which were so dark they looked nearly jet black as they glared at you. Had he been jealous?

And like he could read your mind his lip twitched and he rolled his eyes.

"Even if he had a chance with you, which, let's be very clear, he doesn't, he wouldn't know what to do with it."

"And, let me guess, you would?" you asked teasingly.

"Care to find out?" he asked matter-of-factly.

You felt a wave wash over you from your head to your toes, your body tingling with his proximity, with the way his eyes met yours directly, unfaltering despite the myriad distractions around him.

Gods yes you thought, even as you bit your bottom lip, teetering on the edge of a decision you knew you couldn't come back from.

His eyes shamelessly fell to your lips and you suddenly realized that his hands had never left you as they flexed at your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was holding onto you for purchase.

"C'mon" he said, not waiting for a coherent reply from you, which you may never have been able to form had he kept looking at you that way.

His hands left your body only long enough to tangle his fingers in yours and hold them tightly, pulling you behind him as he headed into the sea of bodies on the dance floor, weaving between some as others offered him a wide berth and a congratulations when they realized who he was.

Then, like he was moving in slow motion, he turned to face you, twining your fingers further in his as he pulled you into him, guiding your hand over his shoulder so you were flush to his chest, and his other hand found your waist again, his grip firm and unyielding as he held you to him as if you would argue or try to be anywhere but right here.

You could feel every dip and curve of his body against yours as you moved against each other in a way that felt perfect and also not nearly enough, even though you couldn't get any closer.

You let the hand on his shoulder wander to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling into the curls there and even though the music was loud enough that you could barely hear yourself think, you could feel as much as hear the growl that released in his chest as his hands tightened on you in a way you were certain would leave a bruise.

The lights flickered for just a second, and a few people stopped dancing and shouted but his eyes never left yours, the only acknowledgement he offered, a small grimace on his face, which made you want to kiss his lips back into his irritatingly perfect smirk.

He leaned in, pressing his cheek to yours as his lips hovered to your ear.

"You look stunning, Mrs. Riddle."

He leaned back and you could see his signature smirk gracing his lips again. You opened your mouth to reply as your eyes met his, but your head was swimming at this point. Everything was him all at once, his body against yours, taught and warm to your touch, his breath on you that smelled like cinnamon gum, his cologne, you felt yourself melting into him at his words, closing the only remaining inches between your hips as your hands came to his face and your noses brushed — and then the lights went out in earnest, drowning you in complete darkness.

"Fuck" you heard him mutter strongly before grasping your hand in his as he started to pull you through the imperceptible forms of people who were yelling and shouting, blazing a path through them, pushing people aside brusquely where necessary. He was on a war path and your feet moved quicky to follow him as he cleared most of the crowd and headed directly for the boys dormitory.

He pulled you into a maze of adjoining corridors before swiping his hand causing an approaching door to fly open as he pulled you in behind him. You were barely through it before he swiped his hand again and it slammed closed behind you, forcefully, the energy pouring off of him in a way that reminded you just how strong of a wizard he was, and exactly why absolutely nobody fucked with him.

He turned to you finally, his chest rising and falling as he gripped your waist and pushed you gently against the closed door with a thud. He let his other hand rest beside your head, caging you in. The look of lust on his face was still there, tangled with the same grimace from before, like he was angry, like he was holding something in.

"Mattheo...?" you whispered and he ducked his head away from you, his eyes squeezing shut as the hand at your waist squeezed again, the touch sending an electric tingle up your side that made you gasp.

His gaze came back to you and then he was leaning in, his nose brushing yours again and your hands came to wind around his neck. You caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips as they hovered over yours, barely grazing them, and you could feel static electricity there between you, the air itself alight with energy, vibrating. The temptation was driving you mad, your chest visibly rising and falling against his own and then his lips fell to yours, warm, soft and urgent.

He took your face in his hands and pressed you into the door and you hummed against him. The lights in the room flickered once, then twice, and then rapidly like you were in a horror film before they went out completely, drenching you both in a velvet darkness that was somehow welcoming, like you could feel the shadows themselves dancing over your body, caressing you, enveloping you.

You felt his tongue against your bottom lip and you opened up to him. Your tongued flicked against his and a freezing gust of wind blew papers, books and quills off his desk, hurling them to the ground with a clatter and bang. Mattheo never stopped, his tongue continued to glide over yours and he kissed you like it was the last godsdamn thing he'd ever do.

He hoisted you up so your legs wrapped around his waist and he pressed you back into the door before releasing your lips just long enough to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck that he lavished in a way you were certain there would be a violet bruise in the morning.

Your eyes fluttered in pleasure, lost in him for a moment until you caught sight of the room around you and you froze.

It was midnight black but for the moonlight coming through the window which cast everything in a ghostly shade of white, but what caught your eye was that every object in the room was floating, adrift in the air, the bed, the desk, the bookshelf, all hovering feet off the ground. Lightweight objects like clothing, quills and his books floated higher and higher and then you realized that it was cold enough to see your breath in front of you.

"Mattheo" you breathed, trying to get his attention. Your hand carded through his curls and the chair in the corner took flight.

Wait. Was this him?

"Mrs. Riddle?" he murmured in your neck.

"Mattheo" you said again, a stronger urgency in your voice causing him to relent and look up at you with a puff of air of his own.

"Fuck" he said. "It's – yeah. That's me. Well, that's you actually."

"What?"

"S'no secret that my magic is ... strong. And I'm well practiced at controlling it. With... one exception."

He took your hand and placed it over his chest where you could feel his heart hammering.

You searched his eyes and his eyebrow quirked until he gestured to his room. As if to say 'see?'

This boy had quite literally lost his control at your touch.

"Wait, the lights? The music?" you asked, a small smile on your lips at the realization.

"When you touched me, I just—" he shook his head, exhaling another puff of cold air. "—See what you do to me, Mrs. Riddle?" he said.

"Gods, when are you going to stop calling me that?" you laughed, even as you looked at him and traced a finger over his lips.

"When it's true" he said simply.

You looked confused for a moment until he leaned into you again, his magic radiating off of him.

"What?" you breathed.

"When you're mine, and it's official and I won't have to spend all of my free time reminding everyone you're mine, they'll know. Until then, I'll hedge my bets."

He kissed you.

"Mmpf, but what if I didn't want you to stop?" you murmured against him.

He pulled back to look at you, scanning your face for any sign of a joke, and finding none as your eyes connected with his and his lip quirked in a smile.

"Well, princess,” he whispered against your lips, ghosting them with his, teasing you before biting your bottom lip gently in a way that sent a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the freezing air.

“Whatever Mrs. Riddle wants—” he murmured, kissing you fully, luxuriously, “—Mrs. Riddle gets.”

ˋ°•*⁀➷ I have the tiniest little epilogue that I'll post soon, let me know if you want to be tagged!

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites @loverliner

[creamecafe]

Fate by "Design" | Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader

Summary: While doing art in a subway, the Salesman offers you to play Ddakji, a chance to win money. But you wanted his number, when you win your acquaintance with the salesman becomes much more.

Pairing: Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, flirting, allusions to smut/sex, but not explicit

Word Count:

Author's Note: This was requested by Crazy4herluv on my Wattpad book Squid Game Imagines/One-Shots. This is also my first Salesman work, so I hope you enjoy!

*Icon used for this header above that I made in PicsArt is from Pinterest. Divider is from @cafekitsune in this post*

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

The sounds of the almost isolated subway and people walking is the highlight of your daily routine. You had moved to Korea to work for a art company and you do sketches by hand.

It paid very good money but in your free time you liked to be in the subway and do art for others like New York. People would walk and stop to see what you possibly could be doing.

A lot of the time, couples, parents with their kids or even old people would ask for a drawing each day and you get paid at least $130-200 at the end of the day.

Your art simply consisted of charcoal sketches of the person who requested for the art as semi-realistic as possible with a watercolor splash in the back if they ask.

Sometimes you notice while you're drawing or sketching away looking for people to draw, you would see a man in a black suit.

He had black hair and was always carrying a suitcase with him. He was also very handsome, you thought. When you took the time to actually analyze him or look at him, not in a creepy way you thought, you noticed that he would throw something on the ground and slap people.

This guy must be insane, you thought. Slapping people everyday, but it didn't stop you wondering who he really was. You thought of going up to him and asking if he would like his own portrai. But you were nervous of asking such a good looking guy and you are an artist in the subway, so he was way out of your league.

Today felt like any other day. Until one person, the guy in the black suit came up to you. You were going to pack up for the day when you accidentally dropped pencils and other supplies on the floor, then rolled around. As you were on the ground picking up the supplies, you saw polished black shoes stop and turn in front of you.

You look up and see him. The guy in the black suit looks down at you while you're trying to pick up your stuff.

"Good evening ma'am. I have a question for you."

You got up from the floor and brushed off the germs from yourself from the subway ground.

"Hello sir. I finished my hours for the day drawing so I can't accept any art requests right now I'm sorry. You could always come back tomorrow if you like."

"I'm not asking for a drawing. I'm asking if you would like to play a game."

A game? Is this guy Billy the puppet you thought?"

"What game?" You asked?

"It's called Ddakji. Have you heard of it before?"

Ddakji. It should sound familiar but you felt like you don't know it.

"I don't think so. What is it?"

"It's very simple. You fold two pieces of paper, usually of bright colors as it's a children's game like an envelope and the goal is to throw down the paper as hard as you can so the other person's paper flips over."

"What's the point of playing the game?"

"If you win, I'll give you money. A hundred thousand won."

Your eyes widened at what he said. A hundred thousand won? That amount of money to get while doing art in a subway could take a year or two. Yet here's this handsome well kept money offering to you.

"And if I lose?"

"Well usually I slap people until they win or just give up." That explains why you see this man in the subway grounds slapping people and throwing stuff down.

"But seeing how creative you are. How about a portrait of me? Use all your creativity and imagination you can and give me something."

"Ok. I'll play. But I can change something?"

"What is it?" He turns his head to express curiosity. It's rare that people would ask for a change of things while playing, conducting he's the one in charge.

"If I win, I get to have your number."

The salesman is surprised at your boldness to ask him out.

"My number? You could walk out with a hundred thousand won. What could my number offer to you?"

"Well I might see a better prize than money. I see a real piece of art right here." You raised your eyebrow smirking

He smirks at you. This was going to be interesting he thought.

"We have an agreement then?"

You nodded. "I lose, you get a portrait. But if I win..."

"You get my number." The salesman nods smiling. "Five in a row you have to win." He then pulls out two colored orgami tiles of red and blue from his suit jacket.

"What color would you like?"

"Red/blue" you said.

"Alright then. Ladies first."

You look at him and then the ground. 10 in a row you can do this. You took a deep breath and slammed the envelope on the ground. The guy then slams his envelope on the ground flipping yours around.

It created a loud slapping sound and echoed that it startled you. You look up scared he was lying to his word and might actually slap you. You close your eyes and prepare for it.

"What are you doing?" The salesman asks

"Aren't you going to slap me?"

"You don't have to worry. I wouldn't slap a pretty face like yours. I only want a drawing."

Opening your eyes you took a deep breath. At least you wouldn't be slapped.

"1-0" The guys says. You assumed that was his keeping score

You pick up your envelope and roll up your sleeve. You threw it down but it didn't flip the salesmans. He picked his up and slammed it down flipping yours again.

"2-0". Now the chances of getting this guys number seems low and you might look like a fool. You were weren't to give up just yet. You relied on your skills of carrying an easel and so many supplies per day to the game.

Taking a deep breath, you slam down the card and it flipped the guys. You were smiled wanting to jump for joy.

"2-1" You put up 2 fingers with one hand and 1 finger to the guys face.

He said nothing but smirked. Talking wasn't his thing, you noticed. Probably why you found him attractive.

The salesman picks up his card and slams it and your flips over. It was a continuous picking up and flipping cards. You were getting better as the points were getting higher.

Now the score was "7-8". You were becoming tired and kinda wish you were home right now, sleeping. But

The salesman threw down his card and flipped yours. Now it was 8-8. A tie. Just two more and you get his number. You threw yours down and it flipped over. 8-9. Another slam from the guy and it was 9-9.

This was it. You weren't sure you would have enough energy to draw that portrait of his that he wanted. But you needed enough energy to finish this game.

You slammed it down and saw it flipped over. I won, you thought to yourself. Did I actually win? You thought.

"Congratulations. You won ma'am." The salesman smiled.

Those words felt unreal. "Yes! Yes!" You jumped around happy.

"Now, you asked for my number. I suppose you wouldn't have a piece of paper to write down my number, would you?"

What kind of question was that? You were a artist. Blank papers is all you carry. You grab your sketchbook from your bag and a pen to give to him.

He took it from your hands and wrote down his number fast. He gave it back to you and you saw it.

"What do you plan to do with that number, Miss?"

"I was wondering maybe you want to go out?"

"We can do that. Can I pick the place?"

It was the least you could let him do as he offered you money and kept true to his word to give you his money.

"Sure. I'll text you when I'm available. I might see you here too. Who knows?"

He nodded your response smiling.

"You have a good day madam"

"You too" God how you loved how formal he was and calling you madam and ma'am, even though you weren't really that old.

When you went home, you were exhausted but still smiling and excited that you got the guy's number. You texted your name so he could have yours saved as well. You went to bed, wondering what it could lead to. Possibly just one date or even more.

The next day, was the same thing. Wake up, eat breakfast, pack your things and head to the subway. You kept fixing yourself up for the salesman, wondering if he would come by.

He always comes by, you thought. He just has to. You scanned around the subway to see where he is as you didn't want to move your spot. After an hour had passed, it looked like he hadn't been around.

Maybe asking for his number was a bad idea, that he was avoiding to talk to you, you thought. A man walked by and dropped something not that far from you. It looked like money. Seeing this you get up, pick up the bill and try to call out for the man. But it looked like he was already gone. It was

Written in a black permanent marker, it says “Look at your phone ma’am”. Without thinking you check your phone and see a message. Meet me at the park at 4:30 PM. No need to dress so fancy but wear something you feel pretty in.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you couldn’t believe what’s in front of you, more likely what’s on your phone. He’s actually texting you. The weird quiet but handsome black suit guy is texting you. You packed your things and went home and went to get ready to meet him in the park.

It was nothing special that you wore. Just a simple sundress/pantsuit but it was still one of the nicest outfits you had in your wardrobe. You kept wondering just what the man in plan for you. Walking around the park, you see the man still in his suit, hands in front looking around, possibly waiting for you, you thought.

Smiling, you walk up to him. When he sees you, he smiles with no teeth but still showing joy. He reaches out a hand. Looking at it hesitantly, you took his hand. The salesman then took your hand, bowed a little and kissed the back of your hand gently. You felt your heart skipped a beat when he did that.

“Hello ma’am. We meet again.”

“Hi. Were you the person that gave me the bill?”

“Maybe, a beautiful woman like you deserves more.”

Was this a dream? Were you dreaming or is this real. This man seemed to good to be true. You two walked to what would be your first date. The place he picked out for the first date was an art museum. It displayed the finest arts across the worlds and many different paintings. The salesman would ask about each piece and how did it make you feel. You responded to many of his questions but kept looking around. You guys kept talking and asking each other questions to get more acquainted with each other.

After the museum, he took you a some place to eat. Then you guys went to get ice cream. He paid for everything and asked if there’s anywhere else you would like to go. If you tried to pull out your card or even cash to pay for your own things, he would refuse so and said he got everything and that anything you wanted he’ll get for you. It had been late, so he dropped you off home and asked how was everything and if you enjoyed it.

You couldn’t thank him enough for the wonderful day you had comparison to just drawing in a subway for hours. Before you left his car, there was a slight tension between you guys that it could be cut with a knife. The man wanted to say something else but couldn’t stop looking at your lips. Looking at him, you see his hands reach towards your face and cup it as his lips softly touches yours.

His lips were so baby smooth and his cologne was so sharp from his neck, it felt like a gas hyptonixjg you. You cup his face, grazing it with your thumb. He pulls away, still looking at you with such yearning. Your thumb still on his face grazed his lips as you said goodbye and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Ever since that night, you two have been dating. He would take you on dates to other places. Mostly just walks in the park or art related stuff that you like. Your small kisses would turn into small makeouts into something more. He would sometimes, well mostly go over to your place and sleep over. In the mornings he would make breakfast in his underwear. You wish you could draw him right then and there.

He loves to pose for your art or whatever reference you need for your assignment in class. Once a month, he'll take you out to the art store to get whatever supplies you need. Your messy clothing consisted of paint or oil pastel stains is opposite of his clean, ironed and steamed suit. But he loves it either way.

The only time that he was out of the suit was when he was in bed with you. But other than that, you wanted him to be a bit more fun. You wanted to him have more color. Seeing those videos of online of couples doing painting of each others to see both of your art skills.

You begged the salesman to do wit you and he finally agrees. Squealing you get everything ready, canvas, paints, brushes, water and paper towels. You had 10 minutes to try to get each other’s features as accurate as possible

Time passes and both of you guys are done. You show your art of him and it’s him in his suit, pretty accurate and semi realistic but some details were missing. He nods and says it’s impressive of how much you can get done in less than hour.

You ask for his painting and he turns his Canva around and you see you in an almost renaissance like painting. Your mouth dropped and all felt like years of your art skills go away to just 10 minutes.

“What! How’s that even possible? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at art?”

“Well two people can’t be the artists in a relationship. One has to be a muse, to inspire the other.”

You scoffed at his bullshit. He just didn’t want to brag. An idea came in your mind. You grab a paintbrush and leave a stroke of red paint on his face.

“If you want to be a muse, why don’t you have some color on you?”

Smirking, the salesman takes this as a challenge and grabs his paint brush and paints across your face too.

Now you guys were having a paint battle. You tried to paint him more but he lightly grabs your arm and stops you. He leads you the floor, where he’s now on top of you. Seeing this as an opportunity, you grab a bottle of paint that’s open and smeared on his white shirt. He laughs at this and rolls you over where you’re now on top of him, straddling him.

Nothing was said between you both as you kept looking at each other. Like that night of your first date when you guys first kissed. Putting your head down you kiss him and he put his arms around on your back. The paint on your guys’ face mixed with each other. Breath was running out so you decided to stop. Your heart was beating so much just as he was trying to catch his breath too.

Now you’re forever grateful you asked for his number then taking the money. It’s a better reward than what the salesman had to offer you, as you got him, yourself. It felt like a dream come true. Even if it was, you didn’t want to wake up. Everything of being with him was like straight art. Maybe it was meant to be. That day you accidentally dropped your pencils and he came up to you. It could be called fate by others. Fate by design you like to call it.

He was right, one has to be the muse in a relationship and the other an artist. But to him, it was the thing he was missing the most. An new reason to be in the subway that fateful day.

Taglist:

@deffreal, @cocofia143, @sorry-meme, @elizabeth-hatake, @nini-0808, @hobinistaworld, @ineedsmootching, @alittlebitofeverything , @happyfrog7681 , @tiuhiatus, @goofiestgoober27, @jayyyourbabe, @ninahorikoshifr, @ikeithy , @vampiregirlxoxo, @ouwioworuuu, @cloudysxkura, @l4venderia, @anthea1239, @iidontwannadiealone,

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[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Could you do a one-shot where alastor is super nervous when meeting reader, not really on his face but more his body language where when she shakes his hand he continues shaking it or doesn't let go immediately. nervous smile too lol, thanks love your stuff!!

Heeey I wrote it hope you don't mind some interpretation on my part! You didn't mention why Alastor was nervous so I just did whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tags: Oblivious Alastor, Cartoonist Writer, Humor, awkward affection, Alastor is either oblivious or in-denial, Nifty is Nifty and you should all love her

-----------------------

Alastor’s introduction to you was not a willing one. Charlie had started a bit of a bookclub at the Hotel as some odd attempt at bonding. Alastor wanted no part of it, but after the 532nd time Charlie asked him he said something particularly scathing and the princess was cruel and told Vaggie, and the ex-exorcist would NOT stop stabbing his door until he finally relented.

Of course, his choice of book was one called ‘Blank’. It was a notebook with nothing written in it. Very easy to discuss at a bookclub.

Charlotte was not impressed and Vagatha once again starting throwing vague threats in his direction. How tempted he was to just kill both of them, but alas this hotel has been the greatest form of entertainment he’s had in years (is what he tells himself.)

Darling Nifty came to his rescue, offering up a variety of different light-reading to be discussed in the future. Most of which were….not to his taste. Nifty’s interests highlighted most definitely, but Alastor quickly chucked the books out the window when the story turned to ….that.

As the number of books dwindled, he was just about prepared to give up on this stack entirely and fetch something meaningless to pretend to read (who’d check, anyway?).

He picked up one, a flimsy comic-book like thing and rolled his eyes once before giving it a go. The story wasn’t anything particularly interesting. The plot was just two bunnies going to get some ice cream. But the wordplay, the exaggeration of all the smallest obstacles, how self-aware and absurd it was gave him a good laugh. The Radio Demon’s first introduction to your work.

Although the bookclub idea ended up going nowhere, Alastor found himself seeking out more of your works. Another about a man just making a taco, one about a woman folding her laundry. So many little, day-to-day situations amplified to a ridiculous amount. Clever one-liners and humorous puns sprinkled throughout kept it intelligent enough for him to maintain interest despite the absurdity of it all.

Eventually he got a cartoon you drew that seemed just the same as the rest. Some random cute cartoon raccoon drawing some random little cartoon things. There was a scene in it though that stuck to Alastor’s mind (and dare he say, heart) like glue.

In it, the raccoon was confronted by a shark. “Why do you bother making these?” the shark sneered “No one reads these but you, no one looks at them but you, there’s no point.”

“Why does there need to be a point?” The raccoon said. Alastor’s ears straightened up on their own accord as he read “Even if no one sees it, it’s something I made and it’s some I enjoyed making.”

“Even if you put it out there, no one will care about it.”

“Someone will. They might not say anything but there’ll always be at least one.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound? No one gives a crap about your ‘passions’!”

“I do.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound-“

And then the raccoon pressed a button and an anvil fell onto the shark, comedically turning it into a pancake. “Your argument doesn’t have any depth.” The raccoon said. The story moved on from there.

It struck a bit of a chord with Alastor, he could admit that much to himself. And the raccoon’s way of dealing it was something he’d keep in mind for his next encounter with an annoyance. He didn’t put much stock in it, as storytellers and their stories don’t always agree on all things.

Your comics were a little joyful distraction when he needed them, that was all. Nothing deep and profound.

“BOSS!”

Alastor slammed shut the book he was reading, his grin never faltering though his twitching ears indicated a slight nervousness. He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Hello, Nifty! Did you need something?”

Nifty scamped up his chair and onto his lap, settling down andstaring up at him with her one big eye. “BOSS BOSS BOSS BOSS I MET THE DEMONESS WHO DRAWS THOSE CARTOONS YOU LIKE”

Alastor’s eye twitched “Oh? Well, that’s neat.”

She stood up, squishing his face between her hands and stared more as her grin grew wider and more manic “Did you want to meet her?”

Yes

“Now, now, Nifty.” Alastor said as he removed her hands from his face “There’s better ways to waste one’s time.”

Nifty tilted her head, staring at him as though it would allow her to see into his mind. Her expression shifted into….One he hadn’t seen on Nifty, admittedly. The best way he could describe it was ‘smug’. But what would she have to be smug about?”

“If you say so, Boss!” She chirped, hopping off his lap and trotting off “But yeah I was at the Evermore Book-Store and she was there working ‘cause I guess that’s what she does for a livng….” Nifty’s voice faded away as the little maid walked off, not caring her rambling were being said to no one.

After Alastor had finished his errands for the day, he happened by that very store…for…Reasons. Upon entering it, he realized he had no idea who- what- he was looking for. The store itself wasn’t large. A couple patrons, one large hulking demon with tiny spectacles at the desk and a much smaller one organizing shelves.

One of the workers, then?

Not that he cared.

“Pardon me!” Alastor chirped to the desk demon. Their big eyes seemed to move in slow motion to him, a low grunt accompanying the acknowledgement. “I’m looking for someone, yes? The author of some silly comics?”

The demon slowly narrowed their eyes, lips curling up into a snarl as a growl emanated from them.

“Ah, so she is here?”

The demon planted their very large hands on the desk, pushing themselves up to stand at their full height. They were taller than Alastor by a good three feet, and much more muscular as well. Their nostrils flared, blowing hot air into his face.

Alastor wasn’t the slightest bit phased. (He found it funny, actually). “So may I speak to her?”

The large demon opened up their gaping jaw-

“That’s me, hi! How can I help you?” The shelf-stacking demon interrupted, getting between Alastor and the clerk demon. A nervous little lady with a wobbly unsure smile and bags under her eyes that looked like they could carry the entirety of Hell in them.

Alastor held up one of your comics- a book that has been very obviously well-read “You’re the creator of these splendid little things?”

“Splendid…?” You repeated him, trailing off into an amused snort “Er. Yeah, I wrote and drew those.” The Clerk behind you closed their mouth, setting back down on their chair and adjusting their spectacles. The glare didn’t leave Alastor.

“Well, my dear, I find I quite enjoy them! It’s quite a pleasure to meet you.” Alastor said, not paying the larger (glowering) demon any mind. He found himself wondering why you were so tired and so timid. A woman like you should be so much more cheerful! Alastor was a tad offended….Because you weren’t smiling like he did. That’s it. Really.

“Well. I’m glad you like them.” You said. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You offered your hand for him to shake.

One of his ears twitched. You must be fairly new to Hell, to offer a handshake so easily. Or perhaps a bit sheltered or on the naïve side. Alastor briefly considered making a sly deal to take your soul, but… Well, there was no need for that.

He took your hand and gave it a firm shake. Your hand was so much smaller than his own, but it felt as though it warmed his entire body. This was strange. Perhaps you were casting some spells on him? Why was he finding it so hard to focus- why did he feel like he didn’t know what to say next- why-

The Clerk gripped Alastor’s arm in between two fingers, gently but assertively pulling it away from you. You took half a step back, cradling your arm to your chest as if he burned you. Alastor glared up at the Clerk “Is there a problem?”

The large demon growled. You intervened again “Er….You were just. Holding my hand for a while. It was……kind of weird.”

“Ah.” Alastor cleared his throat, straightening his posture with a flourish “My apologies! Mind was elsewhere, you know how it is with us creative types.”

You blinked. Then your timid smile turned a bit more confident. A bit more…like a smirk. “Er. Yeah, I guess so. Well. See you around, I guess?”

“If I have the time, I suppose!” Alastor grinned “Well then, I must be off! Ta-ta!”

You watched as the strange demon disappeared into shadows and slivered off. As soon as all trace of him was gone, you laughed quietly into your hand “Well, I can certainly say for certain I know someone ‘awkward as hell’ now.”

Your friend groaned, gently pushing you over as they continued their own work.

[x-aefx]

i neeeeeed more jim and pam inspired blurbs for billie

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At Your Side - Billie x fem!reader

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Summary: you and Billie attend a meeting together, however you had a long night last night but luckily Billie has a shoulder for you to lay on.

A/N: sorry this took so long but ask and you shall receive 🤍🌚

No warnings

Based on this scene from the office⬇️

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Billie stared down at her hands, moving and twisting the rings on her fingers absentmindedly as her team talked, mostly between themselves about details that weren't particularly important for Billie to know.

She was going on tour for her new album, 'Hit Me Hard and Soft', which meant a lot of meetings. However it was different, this entire tour would be different then her previous ones, because you were going to be with her.

Billie knew immediately she wanted you to be the opening act for her tour, she went straight to you before any member of her team.

Her knee bounced up and down as she tried to stay awake, which was hard but she knew she had to.

Billie hummed a tune in her mind, thinking about future plans in her head as she fiddled with her rings.

She was completely lost in her thoughts, slapped by reality when she felt a weight on her shoulder. She looked down slightly, trying her best not to move too much, and then she realised.

By accident, you had managed to fall asleep, your head falling against Billie's shoulder who sat beside you in the meeting room.

Billie looked down at you, slightly surprised.

You were at the meeting with her since you were going to be the opening act on the tour, and there were a few details Billie's team had to talk you through.

The meeting was nearing its end though, all the important things said and explained, and Billie would answer any questions you had anyway.

She knew you were up all night reading some book you had bought, or finishing a painting you had begun, it was a habit of yours she knew all too well.

She couldn't help but smile down at you, having the feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She took the time to admire your peaceful expression, how you smiled even in your sleep, how clear and soft your skin looked and the pretty rose colour of your lips and cheeks.

Billie soon realised she enjoyed the feeling of you laying your head on her shoulder, the closeness it brought. It felt as if a butterfly had landed on her shoulder, delicate and gentle. Billie could smell your vanilla perfume and she could feel your hair prickle against her neck, leaving a slight ticklish feeling she managed to ignore.

Her manager and team droned on in murmurs, she found herself not paying attention, her attention solely on you.

Billie found herself smiling without releasing, but once she did she couldn't hide it. She allowed herself to relish in your presence and under your touch.

She looked away from you shyly even if you were asleep and couldn't see. She felt giddy and completely happy, almost like all her other desires had vanished.

Billie bit her bottom lip as she looked down at her lap. She was sure she was blushing. It was a simple act and yet it had completely taken a hold over her.

As she stared down at the floor Billie realised how fast her heart was thumping in her chest, and how she had the urge to stay in this position and not wake you, bask in the feeling of your head on her shoulder.

You weren't big on physical touch, just offering a short and quick hug here and there, or slightly leaning against her when you two walked side by side, but in this moment you were completely still and relaxed against her. She could really cherish the moment, you didn't pull away and you weren't going anywhere.

Billie wasn't one to get nervous easily or often, she was usually quite a confident person. That never changed much when it came to people she previously had feelings for, but with you that all changed.

As she sat there in the meeting room, Billie was nothing but nerves, scared she would move by accident and wake you, scared that you would pull away and scared she that you may never get this close with her again.

She didn't realise the meeting had ended until people began walking out of the room, one by one, some stopping to talk with others.

Billie frowned as she remained seated, unsure of what to do. She watched people leave the room one by one as she contemplated if she should wake you or not.

Twelve became six and six became three and suddenly it was just Billie and you, alone together with you remaining asleep.

She looked down at you one last time, her smile returning as she noticed how peaceful you looked. She didn't want to wake you but knew you had plans of your own that you had to get to.

Billie hid her smile as she leaned slightly closer to you. "Ahem." She cleared her throat, "hey." She called softly towards you ear. Billie watched you stir awake slowly, your features turning confused as you adjusted yourself in the seat. "Hey." Billie said again, this time with you awake.

She hid her disappointment when you lifted your head from her shoulder rather quickly.

You looked around at the now empty room, which had been full when you arrived, and then to Billie, quickly putting the pieces together as to what had happened.

You cringed, feeling embarrassed, causing your face to flush as you stood up. "Im so sorry." You said, your voice slightly hoarse from sleep. "I don't remember falling asleep, you should have pushed me away or something." You joked, feeling awkward.

Billie looked up at you with a shake of her head. "I didn't mind." She had a small smile on her face that made you believe her words.

You smiled back. You were relieved that you didn't annoy her. "I'll see you around?" You asked shyly.

Billie nodded her head, slightly laughing as she watched you be all cute and shy. "For sure." She said confidently.

With one last smile to her you left the room, you face a rosy hue.

When the room was empty and it was just her, Billie laughed quietly to herself, beginning to play with her rings once again. She smiled at the memory of you asleep on her shoulder, noticing immediately how she longed for you to do it again.

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[hkthatgffan]

What's actually your opinion on Stanford Pines?

Oh, that's an interesting question. Short answer; I like Ford and think he's a great, flawed but lovable character who has endured a lot and come out of it a better man than he was before. Now, if you want my long answer...keep reading beyond this for why I feel that way.

Back when I first saw Gravity Falls, I thought Ford was okay. He wasn't so much a favourite of mine (that title then and still belongs to Dipper and Mabel for me), nor was I as interested in him. I did love reading up everything in Journal 3 about him and all his antics.

During the Mabel hate era in 2018, I did somewhat sour in my opinion on Ford as I felt fans were being too harsh on Mabel and not realizing some of the negatives about him and how Dipper and Mabel were drifting into the same direction Ford and Stan had become. I felt angry that fans were hating on Mabel and calling out her mistakes but downplaying other characters', Ford included.

But then, if you were around in 2018 and remember the Mabel debates that raged on then...you know how messy it was no matter what side you were on, lmao. Be it anti or pro Mabel or Ford, people really debated long and hard during that time and it's an era I'm glad we're more or less past.

In the years since and having heard more takes from fans who like Ford and get him in ways I didn't, I do find myself appreciating and liking Ford a lot more than I did back then. I'm still always gonna be defensive of Mabel and firm on my stance that Dipper staying behind in Gravity Falls with Ford was the worst outcome that could've happened in that scenario, but I see Ford in a lens less of hatred and more realization that...the whole situation was a learning experience for everyone in that situation. Ford learned something from it, Mabel did, Dipper did...all of them did.

To me, Ford is a character that is good at heart. Like every member of the Pines family, he's flawed and has made mistakes that he's overcome and improved from. And as we see again in The Book of Bill...there is one major new thing we really see that makes him all the better in my eyes now than he used to be!

I've spoken about this before when someone asked what my stance on Billford is, but I think as someone who has survived being in toxic situations with people who made my life worse the same way Bill was a toxic person to Ford, I understand him more so now than I used to.

What we see is Ford and Bill having a partnership (or friendship or relationship depending on how you see it) that was toxic. Bill was manipulative, took Ford and tried to mold him into what he wanted him to be. And Ford eventually realized that but Bill made his life hell for trying to escape. Ford eventually being able to and learn to find happiness in his family and friends was an incredible thing to see and that single thing, having been through such shit myself as others probably can relate too, changed Ford in a huge way for me for the better.

Ford to me is a guy who managed to overcome the worst thrown at him and be able to let go of that whole situation and escape it to become better. And we all deserve that. We all deserve to escape the Bill Ciphers in our life, find our Pines family and grow and become better and happier from that.

That is what I think of Stanford Pines. He's a character who is flawed. He's a character who has his ups and downs. But at his core, he is a guy who overcame adversities thrown at him and found a way to live a better and more fulfilling life with those who appreciate and love him for who he is. For a character I once felt no real connection or understanding for and more so hatred...he sure has come a long way for the better and I couldn't be more proud of him.

I know for others this may not be how they see Ford or you may even look at what I said and think I missed the whole point. But that's okay. Because these characters are for us as fans to relate and find aspects in them we can understand. Headcanons exist for a reason. To me, that's how I see Ford. To you, he may be something else.

That's the beauty of this show. Headcanon these character the way you please, without fear or worry of being told you're wrong. Alex has said no headcanon to him will ever be confirmed or denied...so headcanon and perceive these characters the way you feel. Because we all are Gravity Falls fans...and love them the way we do.

But FR, we need more Mabel and Ford bonding. That's all I want from this show now...these two just having fun and being awesome, lol!!

[sinnabarmoth]

Picture this scenario: (insert LI) is chilling against the arm of the couch, doing whatever. We come right up to him, no explanation, and lean down towards him, getting so close… then reaches past him and grabs the TV remote or something. What then? (For all if possible)

Zayne: Zayne is sitting on the couch reading a book, his legs outstretched and you are sitting tucked into a little ball on the other side with your own book. He felt the cushions of the couch shift as you moved. You climb towards him, getting between his legs as you get closer and closer. He's thinking you're just looking for attention, maybe to lay on him and cuddle or perhaps a kiss. You're getting closer and closer to his face and he automatically closes his eyes to lean in and kiss you but then you're just gone and he hits air. You're back on your side of the couch but this time with the cup of tea he had on the side table. You just give him this big innocent smile when he looks over at you confused.

"Something wrong, darling?"

"I thought you were..." Deep sigh. "If you wanted a sip of my tea you could have just asked."

"You looked busy reading. I didn't want to bother you."

"I don't believe that for a second." Changes position so he's tucked in right against you, kisses your cheek. "Just ask next time you want attention."

Xavier: Xavier was sitting on the couch with a handheld game trying to beat this level that was giving him trouble when you walked in. He was focused on the game and didn't really notice what you were doing until you were right on top of him. Looks up and sees you just getting really close. He pauses the game and reaches to hold you but then you lean past him and grab the TV remote.

"Do you mind if I watch TV while you game?"

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"If you wanted the remote you could have just walked over to it. Why did you tease me?"

"I wasn't teasing, I was just grabbing the remote, Xav."

"Uh huh. Sure." grabs you and pulls you onto his lap, hands going under your shirt. "Then this isn't me teasing you either."

Rafayel: Rafayel is on the couch sketching an idea for a new painting when you come by with a mischievous little smile. You kneel on the couch between his outstretched legs and start to get closer. You're so close to his face when he notices that you are reaching for something behind him. He immediately grabs you and pulls you down so you are lying on top of him.

"Ah! Raf! What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"What do you mean nothing? Why'd you yank me down?"

"Oh, so you do know what I'm doing. Why'd you ask then?"

"Rafayel! I was just trying to get the remote behind you."

"And I'm just laying here, I have no ulterior motives whatsoever, just like you."

You concede, relaxing on top of him. "You win this round."

Sylus: You and Sylus are sitting on opposite sides of the couch. You start shuffling your way over until you are practically on his lap. You're reaching for the cocktail he made himself and hadn't touched. Sylus continues to lounge, not even looking up from his phone as you get closer and closer. You're practically pressed right against him and your fingers almost touch the glass before his evol swirls around it and moves it further out of reach.

"Sylus! What gives?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, kitten."

"Fine. I was trying to fluster you by getting real close while trying to get your drink. Happy?"

"You can still grab it, you just have to stretch farther."

"Stretch? More like climb. Do you want me to have to climb over you or something?"

"I'll give you your drink when you're in position to give me mine. Now keep going until I tell you to stop."

[dorabellingham]

Boyfriend material

headcanon

characters: jobe x fem!reader

request: yes!

may contain spelling and translation errors

1. King of well-planned surprises

Jobe loves to surprise you, but he doesn't do it in an obvious or cliché way. Instead of flowers at the door of the house, he books a private cooking class because he knows you casually commented on learning how to make typical food from somewhere. He listens to the small details and transforms them into big gestures. And the best? He gets a shy smile, a little embarrassed, waiting for your reaction, as if he didn't know he got it right.

2. He memorises your favourite playlist

Jobe knows all the songs you love. He has a playlist on Spotify called "For Y/n" and whenever he hears a song that reminds you, he adds it. The cutest thing is that sometimes he plays when you're in the car, just to see you sing. And of course, when they are separated, he sends a song from the list with a "I remembered you."

3. He's a great cook (but only for you)

Despite being a disaster in the kitchen when he's alone, Jobe makes a real effort when it's for you. He learns basic recipes and ventures with more elaborate dishes just because he knows you like them. It's always an event: he puts on music, tries to follow recipes on YouTube, and in the end, the kitchen is a mess. But he compensates by putting the food on the table with a proud smile, waiting for your compliment.

4. He is the best listener in the world

Jobe has a special talent for hearing you talk about absolutely anything. If you're talking about a book, about the new series you watched, or even about something you read in an academic article, he pays attention with genuine interest. He asks questions, gives opinions, and you feel like the most important person in the world.

5. He's absurdly affectionate in public

He's not afraid to show how much he loves you in public. Whenever you are walking together, he holds your hand, gives quick kisses on tour forehead or wraps you with his big arm when it's cold. He doesn't care if there are paparazzi around or if someone is watching - he just wants you to know that he is there, on your side, always.

6. He's the type who solves fights calmly (and hugs)

Jobe hates fights and discord, especially with you. He is the one who tries to solve everything calmly and by talking. Even when he is angry, he takes a deep breath, tries to listen to his side and speaks carefully. If he feels that the discussion is too heavy, he interrupts and says: "Let's breathe and talk about it later, I don't want to hurt you." And, of course, he never lets you sleep upset - he always ends the night with an apology or a tight hug.

7. He is super protective, but not in a possessive way

He is the kind of boyfriend who ensures that you feel safe all the time. It is protective in a subtle way - like being careful when they are in crowded places, holding your hand so they don't get lost, or checking the car before a trip. He is never possessive, but everyone knows that you are the love of his life.

8. He encourages your dreams (and remembers the details)

Jobe not only believes in your dreams, but also makes a point of being the greatest supporter. If you have a new project, he is the first to ask how he can help. He also remembers the smallest details, like when you mentioned that you wanted to go back to practising something, and sent cute messages before the first day saying how proud you were.

9. He is very organised, except when he is in love

Most of the time, Jove is super organised: the closet is tidy, the schedules are in place and he follows an impeccable routine. But when he's with you, it all falls apart. He forgets his socks on the couch because they were watching a movie together or leaves the bed untidy because he preferred to sleep a little more to the solo. He always says that you are the only thing that messes up his life - in a good way.

10. He's unbearably cute when he's jealous

Jobe is mature and confident, but even he can't resist a little jealousy from time to time. If someone flirts with you, he doesn't make a scene, but the closed look and the hand on your waist deliver everything. Then, he jokes: "Just for you to remember, you already have a very good english by your side." And of course, you love to provoke him just to see this reaction - which only makes him even more cute and in love.

[secret-moonstruck]

STUCK ON ME | Y.JW | PART 2

— Pairing: Jungwon x fem!reader | Part 01 | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: When Y/N was with her friend, Jungwon became jealous and possessive. He decided to show who Y/N belonged to. .

— Genre: smut, Horror, bloody

— Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, praising, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, cum eating, overstimulation, gore, death, blood, torture, kidnapping, more. .

Warning: The content may be dangerous. Read at your own discretion.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

A few weeks have passed since Y/N met Jungwon, at first it was a bit difficult, but now she was getting used to the situation.

She had gone out for drinks with some people from the publishing house to celebrate the sales of her book, among them was Hyun, he was the cute guy who worked there and he always showed interest in Y/N, whenever she went to the publishing house he tried to please her.

When they left the bar, they decided to walk a bit. He was a little drunk and started confessing to Y/N again.

- Why don't you go out with me? - He said, stopping suddenly and turning her towards him.

Before Y/N could say anything, he disappeared. She saw him a short distance away in the alley next door, pinned against the wall with a furious Jungwon choking him.

- What the hell is this? What the hell are you doing? - She ran towards them. - Let him go now, Jungwon.

She ordered, she knew he couldn't disobey an order from her, she had already witnessed how it caused some kind of horrible pain.

However, he didn't let him go; he suffocated him until his body fell to the ground unconscious.

Y/N thought he had killed him, and out of fear, she ended up fainting.

Upon waking up, she still felt a bit dazed, looked around, and saw that she was in some kind of abandoned warehouse. She saw Jungwon sitting on a table reading a book calmly, but when he lowered the book and smiled at her, his face and clothes were covered in blood.

She looked around desperately and saw Hyun unconscious, bloodied, and tied up in a corner of the room.

- Did you kill him? - She asked in despair.

Jungwon rolled his eyes before putting down the book and getting off the table.

- Not yet, my dear. Maybe, if you are very nice, I'll let him live.

He approached Hyun and kicked him to wake him up.

- Where is Y/N? Please, let us go. - Hyun said as soon as he woke up, further irritating Jungwon.

- Who or what do you think you are to try to steal something that is mine? - He lifted him up before throwing him back to the ground.

- Please stop. He is innocent, he didn't do anything. I am yours, okay, you know, you always remind me of that. He has nothing to do with us, let him go. - Y/N pleaded.

A horrible pain coursed through Jungwon's entire body for disobeying her, but it only enraged him even more; she was causing him pain to protect that worm.

Jungwon approached her, lowering himself to her level with a smile that frightened her.

- I know you are mine, but it seems he doesn't know yet, and you seem to have forgotten. - He squeezed her neck, making her stand up. - Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, and show this nothing that you only have one owner.

Still with his hands on her neck, he pulled her face for a kiss full of anger.

- Now, how about you being a good girl? - He pushed her away, and as if it were nothing, dragged the table to where she was.

- Don't touch her, or I'll kill you. - Hyun shouted.

Jungwon went up to him and gagged him, he wanted to kill him, but not before displaying her, not before showing who she belongs to.

Leaning against the table, he ordered her to come closer, she obeyed out of fear.

- Suck me, like the good slut you are, show him what he'll never have.

Trembling, Y/N did as he commanded, kneeling in front of him. She tried to open his pants, but she was trembling too much. He got irritated and took off his clothes by himself, his cock already hard, waiting to be sucked.

Y/N looked at Hyun, who was struggling to break free, before turning their attention back to Jungwon.

With tears in her eyes, she touched him, pumping it before running her tongue over the tip covered with pre-cum, eliciting a moan from him. She licked his length a few times before putting it in her mouth, starting to suck it, but he needed more, he pushed everything in, making her gag.

Jungwon held her by the hair while pushing deep into her throat. The sight of her crying, choking on his cock, excited him even more; he pulled out of her lips and came all over her face.

- Come here dear. - He said, helping her to stand up and bringing her closer to Hyun. He pushed her in front of him, holding her face firmly to confront Hyun.

- Isn't she beautiful covered in my cum? - He smiled frighteningly as he said that.

- Do you know how she becomes more beautiful? When she's moaning desperately for me to fuck her. - Upon saying this, he bit Y/N's neck.

Y/N shuddered at the initial pain of the bite, but soon it was exactly as he wanted, moans escaping her lips mixed with her heavy breathing. Her legs tightening as she began to feel aroused.

Hyun looked horrified as Jungwon drank Y/N's blood. Jungwon easily tore her dress, and did the same with her underwear, before running his fingers over Y/N's pussy.

- You really are a slut, how can you already be so wet? You really get turned on by having your blood sucked, don't you?

Desperate moans escaped Y/N's lips as Jungwon's fingers worked on her pussy. She no longer cared about anything else, she just wanted more.

- Yes, yes, please, Jungwon, I love this, more, please.

Despite being scared, Hyun was starting to get excited seeing Y/N in that state. It was wrong, everything there was wrong, but he couldn't help it.

- Look Y/N, he likes what he sees. - Jungwon continued his movements while rubbing her clitoris with his other hand. - Come on, darling, cum for me already, let's go.

She shuddered, Jungwon's voice both sweet and venomous pushing her to orgasm, she came on his fingers, just as he wanted.

He raised his hand, displaying it with a smile before licking his fingers, while moaning in pleasure.

Y/N knew it wasn't over yet, Jungwon picked her up, she was still trembling when he set her down on the table.

He saw her tired face, her eyes red from crying. He wiped her face, which was still covered in his cum.

- You don't know how beautiful you look like this, all messed up. - He said, caressing her face. His fingers running over her face and neck. - It just makes me want you even more.

He said before biting her again, while pushing his painful cock into her wet pussy.

Y/N gasped in surprise when she felt him enter her so suddenly. If it weren't for him holding her, she would have already collapsed on the table while he mercilessly pounded inside her, the sound echoing through the room.

- J... Jungwon, please! I want, I need. - Y/N was begging for their liberation.

Hearing Y/N's pleas, Jungwon couldn't hold back and came, painting the inside of Y/N, who not long after also reached their orgasm.

Jungwon pulled away from Y/N, watched for a few seconds as her pussy leaked before starting to lick it, holding her thighs firmly. While sucking every drop, his claws tore into Y/N's thighs, who screamed with a mix of pain and pleasure, still very sensitive from the previous orgasm. She buckled, trembling, when she came again, this time more intensely than the others, covering Jungwon's face, who savored every drop before releasing her with an arrogant smile, while Y/N collapsed on the table, her breath still uneven.

She had already forgotten about Hyun, but when she remembered and looked in his direction, her eyes widened in panic.

Jungwon, already dressed, was holding Hyun by the neck with his hand inside his chest.

- No! - Y/N shouted, a desperate scream, a scream that caused an unbearable pain in Jungwon, he had already endured too much pain disobeying her that night.

With a quick movement, Jungwon pulled his hand back, covered in blood, with Hyun's heart in it. Blood splattering across his face, while the most terrifying smile Y/N could imagine was on his face.

He threw Hyun's body to the ground and went to Y/N. The pain of disobedience was torturous, but the anger was greater.

- This is so you never forget that you belong solely to me. - He held her by the shoulders. - And remember that I will never allow you to get close to any man again. I am the only one for whom you should exist. You are mine, and you must never forget that.

The panic that was etched on Y/N's face was replaced by a dark smile, which left Jungwon confused.

- What? Why are you smiling? - He said, releasing her.

Y/N pulled Jungwon close, tilting their head while still smiling.

- You look so sexy like this. - She pushed him away while assessing how he was covered in blood, eyes shining, his expression full of rage. She loved it.

- Y/N said while getting dressed. - Just thinking about having to put up with him every time I entered that building. Aaaah, so annoying.

Jungwon was confused, why was she acting like this when just a moment ago she was crying for him to spare Hyun?

- You know, Jungwon, I was kind of missing the feeling from when we first met, how you seemed so cruel that night. I wanted to see that side of you again, so I decided to combine two useful things. I could have fun and also get rid of something annoying.

- You are a psychopath. - Jungwon didn't know if he found her scary or amazing.

- Oh, no, of course not. I'm just a defenseless woman trapped by a sadistic vampire. - She said with a false fear on her face before approaching him with a smile and kissing him.

— Note2: Sorry if it's not good, I'll try to improve it.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

come high water

tw- referenced domestic abuse

There was something on Darry’s mind, Pony could see it. He had a little frown on his face and Pony could practically see the thoughts spinning behind his eyes. All throughout dinner, Ponyboy’s eyes kept flickering to his big brother. Anxiety was growing in his chest. Was there something he forgot? Was it his turn to cook? 

But Darry didn’t say anything. And while Soda surely noticed his demeanor, he said nothing. Soda just went on and on about his day as usual. Soda volunteered to wash dishes. Ponyboy stood up, intending to go read his book, but Darry called, "Hey, Pone, I wanna talk to you for a sec."

Pony’s heart started thundering in his chest. What did he do? But there wasn’t anger on Darry’s face as he put a hand on Pony’s shoulder and guided him onto the front steps. This was where they used to have important talks with their dad. 

As they sat on the steps, Pony's leg was jogging as he waited for the yelling to start. But Darry didn't say anything for a long moment. Ponyboy looked up at his older brother and saw the furrow of his brow and the melancholy look in his eyes. Something was wrong.

Darry sighed and then looked over at him, "You and I need to have a serious conversation." Pony's heart started to race. Darry's hand squeezed Ponyboy's shoulder, "And before you start panicking, you're not in trouble."

Pony exhaled in relief. "Coulda started with that," he muttered. Darry chuckled. He leaned forward on his knees for a moment, saying nothing. Ponyboy nudged him a little, "What's so serious?"

Darry turned to face Pony and met his eyes. "I fucked up when I hit you that night." Pony started to look away, but Darry caught his chin gently. "Honey, I need you to look at me for this, okay?" Pony fought the urge to look away. He always struggled to meet people's eyes, but for Darry, he would. When their eyes met, Darry smiled sadly. "I love you so much, Ponykid, and I am so fucking sorry that I ever raised a hand to you."

Ponyboy shrugged, "I know you didn't mean it, not really." They’d talked about it a bit when Ponyboy got out of the hospital. Ponyboy knew Darry was still beating himself up for it.

Darry shook his head. "That don't mean anything. You ain't ever supposed to hurt the people you love. Even if it was an accident or I didn't mean it, I still hurt you." Darry took a deep breath. "The point I'm trying to make is that...that's not how you show that you love people."

"I know," Pony said softly. Darry's face was emotional in a way that was unusual. He was earnest in his need to get this point across. "I know that, Dar."

He wrapped his arms around Darry and hugged him. He didn’t know what else to do when there was such clear distress on his brother’s face. Darry returned the embrace, laying one hand on the back of Pony's head and sighing into his hair. They sat like that for a long moment before Darry started to talk again.

"I know you ain't interested in girls yet, but-"

"I wouldn't ever hit someone like that," Pony said quickly, intuiting where Darry was headed.

Darry kissed his head and held him a little firmer, "I know that. You're a good kid. I don’t think you got a mean bone in your body. But if anyone hits you, a girlfriend, a soc, a friend, I need to know, okay? And if you don’t feel comfortable talking to me about it, you talk to someone you do."

Pony pulled out of their embrace to look at Darry's face. There was such an intense look on his face and suddenly Pony understood why they were having this conversation. Darry wasn't concerned that Pony would be an abuser. He was terrified that Pony would be hurt again.

"Why are you so worried about that?" Pony asked with a confused frown. "Boys don’t get hit like that."

Darry sighed sadly, "They do, baby, more than you would think. It ain’t about bein’ tough what you can take in a fight. Being hurt by someone in your family, by a partner, it’s different." Ponyboy thought of Johnny and Steve, how bruised they’d been and their pain in their eyes when they talked about their folks. But he’d never heard of a boy being beat on by their girl. "So if you got a girlfriend and she hurts ya, I need to know."

"Why?"

Darry opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, "It’s because of me." The turned around to see Soda standing by the door with his arms wrapped around himself. His hands were still a little wet from the dishes. Soda shuffled over and sat down between the two of them. Immediately, Darry wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his head.

Pony’s heart began to pound, "What are you talking about?"

Soda looked over at Pony with sad eyes, heavy with emotion. "When I…When I was with Sandy, she would hit me sometimes." 

Pony’s eyes widened and he reached out to take Soda’s hand. "I didn’t know."

Soda smiled sadly, "I know, baby. I didn’t want you to. Darry saw her do it one night and he stepped in and stopped her. I made him swear not to tell you what happened." Pony whined and threw his arms around Soda’s waist and squeezed him as hard as he could. He didn’t like the thought of his brother being hurt one bit.

Soda brought a hand up to Pony’s head and ran his fingers through his hair. "I’m so sorry, Soda."

Soda took a deep breath, "That’s why Darry’s so worried, he doesn’t want either of us to get hurt like that again."

"Which is why," Darry continued, touching Pony’s face, "if something like that ever happens, I need you to tell me, savvy?"

Pony nodded quickly, "I will." 

He looked at Soda. There was a question on his mind. Soda never talked about Sandy so Ponyboy never really asked about her. But now he couldn’t help himself, "Did you love Sandy even though she hurt you?"

Soda swallowed thickly, giving himself time to think. Darry reached over and squeezed the back of Soda’s neck in comfort. "Yeah, I did. Part of me still loves her now. It’s complicated, honey. Things aren’t so black and white."

"But she hurt you."

"I know." Soda looked down at his hands, almost in shame. "I know. But that ain’t how you show someone you love them and I…I didn’t realize until ." Ponyboy embraced his older brother again, hearing Soda sniff softly as tears filled his eyes. 

Soda pulled back, "Only if you ask her, should a girl ever hit you."

"Which is a different topic," Darry cut in sharply, giving Soda a look that made him laugh, "that we will discuss when you’re older." Pony was sure his face was the color of a beet. But his brother was laughing so he didn’t mind the embarrassment. "I know I seem overbearing," Darry said softly, "but I’m just trying to keep you boys safe."

Soda leaned into Darry, taking Pony along with him. The three brothers sat embraced on the front steps. Darry wished he could protected his brothers from anyone that wished them harm, but he’d have to make due with just holding them whenever he could and drying their tears.

[the-inkwell-variable]

author ask tag

thank you so much for the tag, @the-golden-comet! ooh this is gonna be fun!

i'm going to focus on my current wip, Why Should I Be Careful? I'm Going To Die Anyway! because it's still very much in the planning stages (despite how much I'm writing for it) and I have Thoughts

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I'll be honest, I haven't really thought that far ahead. I suppose, if there is a lesson to take from WSIBC?IGTDA!, it might be that you should always chase your goals and desires, and screw what other people think. Maybe put a little more thought and planning into yours than Aura does hers, though. I mean, she almost dies due to her recklessness. Don't be like Aura.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Well, it's a zombie book - I love zombies, in case you can't tell - so the world is an amalgamation of zombie stuff I love. The zombies are based off of the Train to Busan zombies. This is a self-insert mess, so I'm using the town and people I know in the town as location and characters. Little tropes here and there that I love in movies and books alike. It's just a big chimera of stuff that I grab from stuff I remember and shove into it. It definitely needs polish when it's done, but I'm having a blast so far, so I'm'a keep doing it :3

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Uhhhhhh this is a tough question. Right now, Aura is trying to make it to Roger's Grocery Mart to save her girlfriend, but most of the time, she's just trying to have a good time in the zombie apocalypse and hopefully not die. She does eventually grow into a character that (mostly) thinks things through and takes other people's situations into account, so I suppose the lesson is "the world doesn't revolve around you - be kind and helpful to others"?

As for what I'm trying to achieve... mostly, to be honest, I just want people to pick up my book and have a good time reading it. I want to write a zombie book because it's my passion and because there aren't enough zombie books out there. I guess I'm trying to inspire others? To show them that you can survive an impossible situation if you work hard and think things through?

How many chapters is your story going to have?

The only time I've written a full-length book (sorry, the only two times, forgot about Zero: ALPHA), it had about twenty-odd chapters. Z:A had...uh...thirty? That was a long time ago and I sadly no longer have that draft. This one is going to go until it's done. Hopefully more than thirty though!

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! I have no idea where I'm going to post it. I'm torn between Draft2Digital (originally Smashwords) or Substack. Thing is, I'm really bad at marketing and keywords and all that technical stuff that goes into publicizing, so I'm really hesitant to share it at all. I'm the type of person that gets absolutely morally devastated if my own self-inflicted goals aren't met, and I'm not sure if I can handle that kind of crushing heartbreak with this one lol

So yeah. Might publish, might not. Unsure right now.

When did you start writing?

My dad set up a Windows 95 computer for me in his office, his old one, and taught me the basics of using it. I was five, about to turn six. I immediately sat down and wrote a story about unicorns. I've been writing ever since.

I didn't start writing fanfiction until I was thirteen and had just binge-watched Lord of the Rings for the first time. We don't talk about those works. They were awful.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

Write it. Oh it's cringe? Who cares? Write it. Oh, it's a rare pair? Write it. You're worried people will hate it? Fuck the haters. Write it. Writing is about having fun. Writing is about pouring your soul onto the page. Writing is about getting those ideas out of your head so they don't drive you insane. It's about reaching that one person that finds your work and loves it. Even if no one reads it - you still accomplished something. You still wrote it. And no one can take that from you.

I have so many writers in my follow list. Uhh. I have no idea how many are still active, so I'm just going to tag who I know and hope for the best lol

@idyllicocean, @keeping-writing-frosty, @bloodtiesnovel, @asher-writes, @kitswrite, @theink-stainedfolk, @karkkidoeswriting, @lavender-gloom, @orphanheirs, @aquixoticwrites, @alinacapellabooks, @marlowethelibrarian, @flock-from-the-void, @dyrewrites, @storycraftcafe, @writer-imagination, @toragay-writing, @inseasofgreen, @stephtuckerauthor, @thatndginger, @finickyfelix, @eternalwritingstudent, @drchenquill, @paeliae-occasionally, @the-golden-comet, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @watermeezer, @goldfinchwrites, @winterandwords, @badscientist, @clairelsonao3, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @leahpardo-pa-potato, @mjparkerwriting, @rowanwriting, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @emelkae, @rita-rae-siller, @rebelxwriter, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @stesierra, @francineiswriting, @sunset-a-story, @chauceryfairytales, @hollyannewrites, @jaydenswaywrites, @captain-kraken, @violets-in-her-arms-writes, @romy-thewriter, @pure-solomon, @writingmaidenwarrior, @koiwrites

go, go follow them. they're all so good and make my timeline glow.

[bansept]

Until I see you again

I... didn't mean to write this??? I was about to rant about Ichigo leaving to the UK and leaving Orihime sad behind, but then it started to look like a small writing thing. So, have at it, hahahahaha

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She's not supposed to cry. She promised him.

Orihime sniffs back the wave of fresh tears ready to breach her resolve, the hand holding onto the plastic bag - which contains the only gift Ichigo agrees to take with him, namely some fresh bread from her bakery - clenching valiantly. Her gloved hands hold on tight, a small lifeline that keeps her from gathering him in her arms and anchoring herself on the ground. Maybe if she turned into a solid bloc of pure metal, she'd be able to keep him well-settled on the ground, and he wouldn't have to take that stupid plane.

She doesn't want to be selfish, and oh well, she knows she won't be. He discreetly rubs her back, the touch reassuring, and somehow that barely helps her greed win the fight.

Ichigo, mostly free of his Hollow-hunting duties, will leave for the UK, right in London, in 4 hours, as a continuation of his studies to become a translator.

It's not really a surprise to anyone who's known him: in classes, he was among the best in English, discussing Shakespeare and his influence and overall works. He'd help her with tests, training her with the spelling, although it flew right at the top of her head at the time ; it took a lot out of her to not blush to death.

And now, here he is, all handsome and adult, right on his way to graduate in a couple of months, but leaving for a foreign land she knows scrap about (except they drink tea and have a monarchy), and he will be gone forever.

She sighs, pouting to herself. Not... forever forever. But 4 months feels like an eternity already.

Ichigo looks from left to right, checking for his luggage while Yuzu fusses about the importance of being early at the boarding gate. Karin elbows Isshin, whose expression is a mix of pride and terrible doom. Orihime heard him mumble things to Ichigo while on the way here, which of course only left Ichigo pissed at his father.

The young man already said goodbye to their friends earlier, back in Karakura. Chad is busy at the Gonzalez gym, his boss not giving him much regard when it comes to breaks, while Uryu is buried under thick layers of medical books and studies. He might not become a surgeon like his father, but he's definitely not lacking work while studying the pediatric field.

Renji and Rukia came earlier in the week. With the recent announcement of Rukia's pregnancy, which was a whole event on itself and brought EVERYONE to tears (no matter what Uryu and Ichigo say) and the incessant work the Soul Society keeps throwing at them, it was very kind of them to travel back to the World of the Living to bid their goodbye.

Which leaves her. Sure she could come by as just the friend who's available to come and see him off, a smile on her face as he waves, flying away like a bird to foreign lands.

Except she's no longer just a friend.

After the war, they spent time with each other. Just them, just the simple reading sessions in his room or at her place. Just the bickering about the bread he supposedly dislikes but engulfs greedily. She was invited plenty of time, gradually, to their home, the warmth of the Kurosaki smiles around her, cautiously tasting her meals before genuinely digging into them. Spending time with the twins, as both of them stared at her with wonder, some kind of urge to be understood as young women. Orihime remembers fondly the moment Karin, quiet, distant and cranky, asked her for help. Nothing overly major, but in that single moment, she wasn't just a friend anymore.

She wasn't simply a buddy either when Ichigo asked for more of her time, which she willingly gave.

Were they dates? Going to a coffee place, or the cinema, or on missions just the two of them? A part of her rapidly thinks it's the way for Ichigo to enjoy some peace and quiet without being alone, while the confident and hopelessly in love part of her rebukes the idea of convenience: it's to spend time with her. And only her.

And so they did, they hung out, discussed, laughed, visited places together. He confided in her, some of his fear, and she leaned against him while muttering about her past, what her brother had told her, very long ago.

Ichigo had shown nothing but tenderness towards her, and the cherry on top was his first hug, the day they'd visited his mother's grave.

She flushes at the memory. Oh, no, they weren't dating... Were they?

Ichigo turns to her after hugging his little sisters, a small smile on his face. He's wearing a thick gray coat lined with fur, the only protection he has against the frigid cold from England he's supposed to have once arrived. His hair has been trimmed one last time by a tearful Yuzu, the short strand on top of his head still somehow foreign after a few months. But who is she kidding, Ichigo looks even more handsome that way.

"Are you alright, Orihime?" His voice is smooth, laced with held-back worry.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." She sniffs again, and she swears she means it. Her heart is aching for him to stay and never ever leave without her for so long, but she can't be that kind of horrible person. Suggesting he misses this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity out of selfishness is out of the question. "You sure you have everything?"

It's one of those phrases everyone asks. He's packed his 2 suitcases over the last month, he's pondered over it for longer than that, his sisters helped him out, his father checked with him and Orihime helped retrieve one last tube of toothpaste, because he has a specific brand he likes and that's one of the many things she's discovered about him that make her melt.

"Yeah, I think I got what's necessary." He grins nonetheless, pulling at the grip of the dark blue suitcase by his feet.

Orihime nods at him, hiding her reddening nose in her coat. It rained a lot this morning. Ichigo comes closer to her, his wide frame hiding her from the rest of his family, some kind of intimacy for them both. He has a small blush on his face when he picks up one of her hands.

"Hey... You promised not to cry."

"I'm not... just the blue men tickling at my eyes." She pouts, letting her hand rest in his bigger, safe and warm one.

Ichigo only raises his eyebrows with a knowing smile, her antics gliding over him naturally now.

"I'll send messages." He speaks, and his tone is breaking a little, because she knows it hurts him too.

Orihime can only nod, although her eyes waver with the silent "please do" plea. She gently holds him tighter, and with a tight smile, Ichigo decides to lean closer, hugging her against him. The warmth invades her, both her body and mind, turning all residual sadness and anxiousness into a mushy pile of love for this man, like pillows of marshmallows. He smells of home, of courage. Of the books he studied, of the iron of his sword, of the gentle dandelion in the wind. His arms, although completely engulfed by the coat, are molted steel bars, circling her while remaining strong. His head is leaning against hers, resting atop her scalp, and in the small instance it took for him to embrace her, Orihime's doubts and fear all but flush away.

A part of her wonders how his family reacts to this evident display of affection, one she herself is almost foreign to. But it doesn't matter.

He pulls away, gently, face red mirroring hers.

Hours later, his plane flies away, and Orihime clenches her phone, the small pastry charm attached to her phone case, a small gift from him, rocks gently against her palm.

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

ONYX STORM SPOILERS (for your readers)

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If you feel like it, will you expand on how you think they are still involved romantically in the end of onyx storm? Like I get that they are married but that seems to more to secure Violet’s future without him. It doesn’t seem to be because he has any hopes of any kind of future for the two of them together. Romantically or otherwise. He doesn’t want her to look for him. Aren’t they as broken up as they can be at this point? I’d love to hear your thoughts (and love another/different perspective because these thoughts I’m currently having are honestly making me feel ill).

Also thank you for your contributions to the fandom!! Honestly I think fanfic is the only thing that’s gonna get me through this. Hope we get an upsurge of riorgail fluff from everyone 🙏🏼

I have never felt like doing anything more, anon!!! I get what you're saying, and I think that's the way Rebecca/Red Tower WANT us to see it, because they want us to be anxious about where it's going so that we buy the next book. However, I refuse to subscribe to that! Here's why:

(I wrote an actual essay, so it's below the cut:)

"Together romantically" My answer to the other ask was me visiting the Xaden Liarson school of verbal gymnastics so that I didn't spoil the ending for that anon. However, judging by Xaden's behavior throughout ALL of Onyx Storm (and frankly, books 1 and 2 as well) he wouldn't marry her just to dip overall. Like, even not being meta here, he wouldn't do that. He's selfish when it comes to her, for one thing, and he says this repeatedly. For another, he CLEARLY wants to marry her just to marry her. I don't want to get sucked in to another re-read (and someone else asked for my thoughts on the ending in general, so I'll reply to that ask once I'm done with my second re-read in the next few days with more page numbers and quotes and things) but in the scene with his mother, Xaden's reaction seems to illustrate that marriage is NOT a tool for him like it was for his father. He wants to marry Violet because he loves her. Now, obviously the shotgun (crossbow?) wedding was ALSO a move to protect her and solidify her place without him as you said, but with how he talked about marriage throughout the book, and how he talked about HER, he's not marrying her just to dip. He's just not! It means something to him, as she does, and he's not going to forsake that.

Violet Violet isn't letting him marry her just to dip either. Her thoughts throughout the entire book are that she isn't scared of him and she isn't running, and she isn't letting him run from her, either. The way the scene is set up with Sgaeyl, we see:

(Sgaeyl) glances over her shoulder. "And you think she'll help?" "She loves me." "Tairn does not, and you haven't looked in the mirror yet. The red veins branching from your eyes look like her lightning." "She'll help." It comes out with a hell of a lot more certainty than I feel. "She promised."

I am slightly worried about pronoun fuckery in this bit, but we know Violet loves him more than anything, and this portion of Xaden's chapter makes it clear Violet has to agree to whatever the plan is (murdering dragons, stealing eggs, etc) and that Tairn does as well. I think Tairn would actually support them breaking up, to a certain degree, and whatever the plan is, Sgaeyl does NOT think Tairn will be down.

And then, for more confirmation:

"We will ask," Sgaeyl finally says, flexing her claws in the rocky soil "And her decision will determine our fate."

They need Violet on board for whatever they're doing. Violet isn't going to be on board with him dumping her post wedding. I know some of these lines can point in other directions, but I don't think they do, for the reasons I'll go on to spell out below!

3. Memories I know some people were confused about what, precisely, Imogen made Violet forget, and it seems like she's missing 12 hours (which, insane signet growth, Im). I could not get over Violet forgetting her wedding. Hours after I finished the book, I was like, oh my God. She can't remember her wedding, and I burst into tears. Repeatedly. At length. Which is insane, because these books NEVER make me cry. All this to say, (again, given Xaden's tone specifically surrounding marriage) they aren't going to take having her forget their wedding lightly. They just aren't. She has to forget everything in those twelve hours, because she helps Xaden concoct/finalize whatever the hell he's planning on doing (I'll probably share what I think he's planning on doing in my response to the ask I mentioned above, but the gist of it for now is that mans is going on a quest of his own), but Violet ASKS Imogen to make her forget. In the marriage aspect, Xaden's protecting Violet, but in forgetting, Violet's protecting Xaden. This is why I say romantically together as well. I think the love is more important than anything else. I think the point of this book was to make it clear they'd both do absolutely anything for the other, and the ending is a culmination of that. I know some people suggested that they have her forget so that she can't be interrogated and used against him, and I think that's definitely true (although I think making her duchess also protects her from this, but Violet has always doubted her own ability to lie). Personally, my gut instinct interpretation was that deal she made with Ridoc that she'd let Ridoc kill him if Xaden took being venin too far (which, side note, do we all just forget about them being interconnected when it suits us??? He can't die because then Violet will die. We've been over this. I digress). Clearly everyone seems to think his little "display" at the end of the book is "too far." I don't know if he killed anyone important in that scene (again, I actually thought Bodhi dies? At first? And THAT was why she had to marry Xaden to secure the duchy while he was gone? but Red Tower seems to be very in tune to fandom priorities, and with how many people love Bodhi, killing him off page would certainly be a choice) but he's still at least an Asim, if not a Sage (given the veins, I'm 99% sure he's a Sage, but again, we don't get anything concrete in that ending. side eye, Red Tower. side eye.) and therefore everyone thinks he betrayed them, and he needs to get out of there before everyone else kills him! By forgetting, Violet is saving his life. That's romantically together to me.

4. Quest! Xaden doesn't leave Violet to pull an Edward and frolic around Europe for a few months or whatever it is. He has a plan. This what he shows Sgaeyl, I believe, and what Vi and Tairn have to agree on. It involves stealing the dragon eggs, killing the elders and/or the other dragons (save me third re-read of this damn scene, save me) and getting the hell out. @maethologies told me privately that the very act of going on the Quest means Xaden has hope for a "cure", just like Violet said he still had hope if he was trying to get Brennan to mend him. I think this is the Second Krovlan Uprising tie in: trade the dragon eggs (side note: why are there 7? did Andarna steal an egg and bring it back ????) and get allies against the venin (and eventually Navarre) (and perhaps do other cure-related tasks, idk). I also personally think Xaden's going to find more answers for Violet about her connection with Dunne. A huge theme of this book was that (explicitly) Xaden and Andarna don't know who they are, but Violet doesn't really know either. She spends book 3 helping them, and in book 4, I think they help her. Basically, he returns to the isles for quest part 2! Also, I think bringing 3 riders with him is a clear sign he's not just dipping. I'm hoping my second re-read helps me finalize who the hell he brought with him besides Garrick, but if they go to the isles like I'm thinking, my moneys on Dain or Aaric for the language translation (both of whom love Violet). I have a variety of other quest nonsense to share in the other ask, but the gist of it is that he is moving with a purpose! And his purpose is Violet! Because he's in love with her!

5. Meta This is where I get a LITTLE messy. I don't know if everyone reading this saw my 2024 reading wrap up, but I have read the vast majority of RY's catalog, and I consider myself to be very familiar with the themes she likes to write, and the situations she likes to return to, over and over again. A HUGE focus for her is the war in Afghanistan. She's been obsessed with that for ten years, which makes complete sense given who she is and her lived experiences. If you happen to not be super familiar with Rebecca as a person, her husband was in the military for a very long time, and her primary sub-genre is military romance. I don't know if this carries over internationally, but in the United States, marrying your partner early on in your military career is incredibly common, because it protects them in the event of your death and while you're deployed. I was really upset about him marrying her and then immediately leaving at first, but when I thought about it, it makes complete sense for who Rebecca is and what she's gone through. I'm not trying to accuse her of self inserting or anything like that, but she clearly likes to write situations that are important to her (as do I! As do we all!) and so it makes sense to me that she'd call upon something like this for X and V. It does NOT make sense to me that she'd call upon something she went through with her husband she's still married to and then make it a break up. Will it cause tension? Obviously! But to quote Mr. Riorson himself, they're past the break up stage. (Rebecca does some silly things with foreshadowing in her books, and sometimes she says things like this to prove them wrong, and other times, she says things like this prove them right. I really think this is a "prove them right" scenario, but I'm basing that off vibes, frankly, and my knowledge of her body of work. My Rebeccca-dar, if you will.)

6. Xaden Liarson I see your point about the note, and maybe I'm deranged, but I do actually just think he's lying. I don't think he's stupid enough to think she won't come looking for him at this point. He knows her too well for that. I think the "don't come looking for me" or whatever it is is a cover up for everyone else who thinks he betrayed Tyrrendor. Also, it slows her down! I am certain she'll look for him eventually (peep her broken compass from the god of luck, anyone?), but the note + the memory wiping make it so she can't immediately go looking for him. I think that's the point of it, not that she never looks for him again.

To conclude this literal essay, I think they're still together romantically because of Riorgail's most up-to-date characterization on their own and dynamic together, as well as who Rebecca is as a writer. I actually could probably write another essay on this, and I probably will in the other ask, but if there's anything else, let me know!! I need to bleed this book out of me so I can be normal again. But even if they are "broken up", it doesn't matter long term. The five book series WILL end with them together. That's how romantasy works. Xaden isn't dying. Violet isn't dying. Everyone else is fair game, but those two are fine, LOL.

Also, you are SO welcome for fic, always. I am not a fluff girly, unfortunately. I don't really write it in general, but we'll see if I get possessed. I do have a girl dad Xaden fic in the works (in which I have to re-work their wedding....) and I have some new smut ideas I want to write sometime soon! I think that will scratch the itch for me, anyway! As I've mentioned throughout this post, my hangover cure of choice has been to dive right back into Onyx Storm again, and I honestly think that was the best idea for me. I didn't do that after Iron Flame because I thought it was somehow "bad" to do so, and then I just longed for these characters for months. But, you do you! I wanted to make a masterpost of my hangover cure recs, but we'll see if I ever get to it. If you've read this far I am personally giving you a virtual gold star.

[endiness]

"Epic fantasy has responded poorly to too much oversight from above. I think that was The Witcher’s problem. You had that visionary: It was Henry Cavill. And they didn’t want to listen to him. So, well, there you go." — Brandon Sanderson

Yeah, anyway, just a friendly reminder that Henry Cavill massively over-exaggerated how much of a fan he was of the franchise and how much he knew about it as he hadn't even read the books when he first sought out the role because he thought that the books were based off the games (and for some reason despite proclaiming himself to be such a lorebuff, he ~curiously never bothered to check them out; he can't have ever googled or wiki'd the series, either, despite finding out that Netflix was making the show from the internet, because if he had, then surely he would've learned that the games were actually based on the books and would've read them; and somehow he also ~curiously never noticed that the first thing credited in the games is Sapkowski and the books.) He only read the books after Lauren told him about them and even then, he only read the series once right before he was cast in 2018. He also only ever really played the third game and even then, he never played the DLC for it.

By his own admission, he also didn't actually do any research or preparation for the role because, as established above, he hadn't read the books when he first sought out the role, he only read the series once after Lauren told him about the books, and he's really only played the third game.

"I asked my agent to put me on the spot and wanted to meet Lauren as soon as possible. I didn’t even need to prepare specially for the role. Because I breathe, I experience this universe every day. I’ve already had many opportunities to think about this character when I was playing the game. My preparation was already done before the casting even began!"

Henry Cavill was also directly responsible for a lot of the show's deviations from the books, or he at least had a hand in them, and the idea the he was such an advocate for the source material is actually just a massive pr campaign he ran against Lauren, the writers, and the show to deflect from his own responsibility for those changes and because he was mad about how he was co-lead with two women and the general prominence of women on the show.

He fucked up Geralt's characterization in S1 and made it inaccurate to the books by cutting his lines and either saying nothing or just grunting instead — often leaving his scene partners in the position of not knowing what was going on and if he was going to say his lines and even having to take his lines just in order to move the plot along. (Half of Geralt's dialogue was cut in the S1 finale, btw.)

"Henry tends to cut his lines, say less, which means I have to say more. So I had to improvise quite often." — Joey

Then in the press for S2, Henry Cavill started heavily pushing the narrative about how important adhering to the source material is to him and how much he advocated for a more book accurate, verbose Geralt — and not only did he virtually never take any responsibility for how it was due to his acting choices that happened in the first place, but he also lied about the whole thing and tried to act like Geralt was never originally written as being verbose and blamed Geralt's lack of dialogue on Yennefer and Cir's prominence — which can't be true as confirmed by Lauren. (Yennefer and Ciri's scenes were actually the ones cut in S1, btw.)

He tried to act like he was inspired by Doug Cockle's performance to make up for the lack of Geralt's dialogue — which can't be true because he only decided to use his "Geralt" voice in January 2019 but filming for the show started late October/early November 2018 and meanwhile he started cutting Geralt's lines from the pilot episode.

And he tried to act like the lines he was cutting weren't even really that important anyway so it didn't really matter that he was cutting them — which can't be true as confirmed by Joey.

Whenever Henry Cavill went on about how important adhering to the source material is to him in the press for S2 as if Lauren's vision of the show was somehow contradictory to that and the books, he was actually just mad about the prominence of women on the show. (Ciri is the main character of the main book series, btw, and women move the plot forward in the books in massive ways and are absolutely integral to the story.)

(In the press for S2, he also went on about how important men being three dimensional characters is to him as if women being three dimensional characters on the show somehow came at the expense of the male characters.) (Also, here's a quote from him during the press for S2: "I believe that real men are very sensitive. They are very capable of doing things which can be violent, if possible, or necessary. But at the same time, they are incredibly capable of love and caring amongst men and towards children and family and all sorts." Weird that he doesn't specifically list women as people that real sensitive, violent men can be loving and caring towards and reduces them to just being part of "all sorts." 🤔)

Henry Cavill also fucked up Geralt and Jaskier's friendship — beyond, y'know, just cutting Geralt's dialogue in scenes with Jaskier. (Imo given everything he's said, I think it's likely a lot of the dialogue he was cutting in their scenes was any, all, or most affirmation on Geralt's side of things that he cares about Jaskier and that they're friends and, in general, just any positivity toward Jaskier and their friendship .)

"In the books, they are very, very close friends. That is so obvious. They speak to each other fondly. The opportunity is different in this story because Jaskier turns up and he’s not an immediate player straight away. We sort of had to show that essence of Geralt and Joey playing the complete opposite, which creates a wonderful dynamic. If I were to play it more directly like the books, it wouldn’t quite have the same sense of two fated friends. They’d just be like, “Hey, buddy!” Instead, Geralt cares deeply for Jaskier, whether he wants to admit it or not."

He cut a sex scene between Geralt and Yennefer in S2 because he didn't understand Geralt and Yennefer's characters and their relationship dynamic as it absolutely would've been in character of them to have sex after reuniting.

"We wanted it to be emotional rather than sexual. It was really, really important and we had to lean away from what was originally on the page. […] That's not how they behave. How they behave is they just want to be with the person and emotionally recognize their existence again in that shared space."

He nixed even the idea of Geralt and Triss just platonically finding comfort with each other — which is what happens in the books.

"The thing that was important to me, which we took directly from the books, is that Triss asks Geralt to spend the night with her and, in the books, he actually says yes once she says just basically lay with me, nothing is going to happen. Henry felt very, very strongly that when we were playing this scene he still believed that his one true love, Yennefer of Vengerberg, was dead. He was still mourning her. So he didn't actually want to go that extra step and have them have any intimacy whatsoever." — Lauren

He didn't want to play Geralt struggling with fatherhood in any way in S2 nor with any character flaws and only positive character traits (because he was overcompensating for how he fucked up Geralt's characterization in S1 and was embarrassed that redditors were dunking on him for it and that even the show was completely harmlessly making fun of Geralt's "grumpy snowman" characterization) — all of which resulted in the domino effect of Yennefer's betrayal, Eskel's death (which in itself led to Vesemir trying to create new witchers and Lambert's harsher attitude toward Ciri), and Voleth Meir being the big bad of the season.

So yeah, anyway, a friendly reminder that the conspiracy theory that Henry Cavill ragequit the show because he just cares about the source material oh so much and he's the only one in the cast and crew to know anything about it and he's the only reason why the show followed the books in any way whatsoever is, actually, just a conspiracy theory based off nothing more than Henry Cavill saying that he cares about the source material while all of his actions and everything else he's said, as established above, proves otherwise. 👍