#you know what Im going to assume that this is when everyone else hit their growth spurt while hes still 158cm

[rafesweetie]

౨ৎ in which you run into rafe’s arms whenever there’s trouble. not that he minds, of course.

being rafe’s girlfriend meant relying on him for everything. it made him feel wanted, and made you feel safe. so although it went against all your morals as a woman, it just felt right crawling into a cute boy’s muscular arms whenever you needed comfort or help. whether someone made your drink wrong, or a boy was hitting on you, or anything else really, rafe was there to help you out. you’d just grab his hand or pull him aside, and he’d mutter an “i gotcha, kid,” before going to handle it.

he’d assumed you’d be okay going to a friends birthday party. he wasn’t invited, it was a ‘no boys allowed’ kind of party. just gossiping pillow fights and giggles. and these were your friends, if you had any issues you’d sort them out yourself. but, spoiler alert — he was wrong.

rafe was at tannyhill, sitting on the couch on the balcony as he replied to his fathers email about the dumb cross that rafe wanted to sell. it was probably around two hours ago when you left, in your cute dress that he bought you, giving him a big kiss before leaving with a birthday gift in hand. the sun was setting, it wasn’t even that late. so he certainly wasn’t expecting a security alert that the front door was opening, nor your pouty face appearing at the balcony door as you opened it slowly.

your lips were red, matching the unnatural hue on your cheeks. little white lines stained from your eye down to your jaw. your eyelashes were droopy and had little wet drops on them. which leaves him to one conclusion; you were crying.

“..shit,” he mutters under his breath, drawling out the word with parted lips and sighing as you plop yourself down beside him. “what happened, baby?” an arm instantly wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. you instantly cuddle into him, like you always do. right back in your lover’s arms.

“..anna,” you sniffle, voice soft and shaky. “i don’t get it. i don’t get why she’s so nice to everyone except for me. hates me for no reason, rafe, she hates me—“ a quick interruption on his part, quickly shutting you up because you’re not answering the question properly.

he finds it hard to believe that anyone could hate his girl. “what did she do?” he asks, making sure you’re looking him in the eyes so you really understand what he’s asking for. specifics.

“she’s just so rude. said my highlights were way too grown out, said my dress did nothing for my figure and washed out my tan, said that my nail polish was chipping..” you trail off and sniffle. “anything to prove im not perfect, rafe. like duh, i know im not, but she likes to point it out. then she always giggles like it’s just a silly joke,”

“..uh huh,” he hums along. “‘n you know thats not true, right?” he checks, as if it’s obvious.

“well it is true. haven’t gotten my hair done in months, and my nails are chipping, so..”

he sighs. “not that part, kid. c’mon,”

“…that was the only part, rafe,”

“talking about the ‘perfect’ part,” he clarifies. “you know you’re perfect, c’mon, don’t start saying you aren’t,”

“no one’s perfect,” you counter.

“i beg to differ,” he shrugs. “now c’mon, whaddya want me to do about this bitch, huh?” he changes the topic before you argue and he has to assure you more.

“nothing, rafe,”

“nothing?”

“mhm.”

he huffs and leans back on the couch. he knows you. you don’t want him to do nothing about this. “why the hell are you here then, if you don’t want me to do anything?”

“to see my handsome boyfriend ‘n tell him what happened,”

“..right,” he says after a moment. “sure thing, kid. i won’t do anything. whatever you want,” you can tell he’s lying through his teeth.

you smile softly at his agreeable attitude, his voice and touch alone comforting you more than anyone else could. so you cuddle into him more, doe eyes looking out at the sunset overlooking tannyhill, at the american flag waving in the humid wind. you’re perfectly content letting him dry the leftover tears and spending the night with him instead of your little friends.

but you and him both know he’s gonna be making an angry phone call to a certain girl after you leave.

[midnite-c6]

Can you write Namgyu with a kink for humiliating you? I just know this man is a sadist with the way he’s so mean.

It can be making you cry, making you lick his shoes clean, suck his fingers, spitting in your mouth & making you swallow! All while cruelly insulting you calling you a cunt and a bitch.

He loves to embarrass you! You’re just his personal stress-toy in these stressful games <3

(Love your work btw!!!)🎀

holy fuckfbk nam-gyu will always be my fav , hes such a sadist HES SUCH A SADIST you'll be crying and everything literally making such a mess and he'd be staring at you like this: 🫤 guys i got a good twitter vid for this one (i made reader a bit a bimbo im sry💔)

sadist!nam-gyu x reader <3 warnings: 18+, DARK content, SMUT!!, humiliation kink, knifeplay, humping shoes ❤️‍🩹, twitter link, dubcon, orgasm denial, death threats (1), degradation, voyeurism, pwp

つ⁠｡⁠☆ when you'd meet at the games, he just immediately sees how fuckable you are. you were bickering him about the stupidest things, he was angry, how you almost lost them the six-legged race, of course you'd defend yourself. without any class, he'd spit on you, out of 'anger'. obviously he only wants to test how you'd respond, the games were getting boring, he needs to release some tension. "fucking swallow, bitch. you'll do that, right?" he says, like it's second nature, it was your first time literally getting spat on! it felt so weird! you'd swallow full of shame, looking him in the eye. "fucking-" his dick would twitch from the sight, like he was taking your virginity. "bitch, you tryna' tease me?" it's like he didn't expect you to do as he says. you were actually so submissive it makes him cry. it makes his dick cry, definitely.

he's probably the type of guy to jerk off right in front of you. he invited you to come and eat with him and his other allies, saying how it's much more safer with a team rather than being alone, but once you finished your lunch and everyone's going somewhere else, nam-gyu shamelessly moves his hands past the waistband of his pants, it makes you panic, scared, and clueless, -- you don't know what to do, the good person in you says to help him :( and you do, offering your hand, tilting your head and asking "do .. do you need me?" nam-gyu knew he is never gonna get enough of you. ever. he scoffs, he was about to bust a nut right there, "don't fucking assume, cunt." but you just wanted to help him :( he swears you knew what you were doing. "do you even have a brain?" you'd freeze, and he removes his hand under his pants to pull your hair to face his groin. "i'm sure you know how to suck. so suck." he doesn't give you any time to think before pushing your head to his clothed dick, making your squirms muffled against his hard-on. "mmph- m-mister-" your drool staining his pants, "take my pants off, duh. are you genuinely stupid?"

now you were forced to take on his dick, because of your 'volunteer' spirit. atleast he was a bit nice about it though.. i mean he did take it slow until the tip of his cock was hitting the back of your throat, after that, it's a different story. "you sick little freak. you offer your services to any person with a cock?" is what you'd hear, and the 'glug glug glug' sound of your throat. "no decent woman would offer herself when she sees a man jerking it." you were taking him in so well, and he was conversing like it was a normal day. "you. are. a. fucking. freak." he'd pull you away from his dick, "answer me, you're a whore aren't you?" he tugs, "what are you?" "a whore..." you whimper. he just laughs, shoving right back into your mouth.

everything was too fast D: you'd swear other men were looking. no they definitely were. probably even stroking their own dicks while watching. player 124 was so lucky.

even after that, your throat was sore, making you unable to speak, it wasn't like you were much of a talker in the first place. you'd stay by him though, even if you could hear nam-gyu tell his experience about you to thanos, saying how 'mediocre' you were. that hurts.. :(

つ⁠｡⁠☆ outside of the games ->

you were probably someone who absolutely loves the idea of 'making love', he'd just absolutely break that ideology in half. :/ you guys wouldn't have met in the club, he probably met you in a dating app. he made himself such a presentable person, deeming himself as a family man raised by his grandmother who loves owning pets, long walks on the beach, cooking for his girl, all that stuff. of course you'd fall in love. your second date was cooking with him, he finds it cute how clumsy you are with the knife, he chuckles, playfully teasing: "you're such a cute dummy." getting behind you, putting his arms on top of yours as he guides you on how to safely cut vegetables. he's such a sweetie.

but.. when he has that knife pressed right to your throat, thankfully not cutting you, his body caging yours on the counter, your back pressed against his chest. whispering, "you're such a dumb bitch, who the fuck believes shit from people who work at the club?" he did have a point, he said he was a club promoter right off the bat, but your view of him did a full 180⁰ real quick.

pushing your pants down, he presses the handle of the knife right in between your legs, making a soft moan escape your lips, how could he think you don't like this?

the knife goes back to your neck, as his other hand was deeply shoving his fingers against your leaking pussy, "you can't cum, alright? m'not afraid to slash your neck." he threatens, he curls his fingers at the same time, how were you gonna survive.??

now when you're trembling right infront of him, he'd stop all forms of physical touch, getting away from you, you'd fall to the ground, mostly because of your legs shaking, and how the knife infront of your throat blocked you from doing any movements. "please, let me cum, please, i've been good..!" you begged, looking up at him. his eyes darkened even more at the sight, you were so desperate, it was hot. "fine. spread your legs."

(this video) <- twt link ^o^

he presses the insides of your thighs to fully spread them wide open. nudging the tip of his shoes on your clit, the friction was good enough </3.

"you're an embarrassment to women, jeez, you're fucking gonna cum from this." he always seems so mad. you shake your head, you're better than this, you swear. he only chuckles from how you're trying to defend yourself, pressing your thighs together as if to close them, you still wanted that sweet release :( " pfft. stop trying to deny it, i'm not gonna let you cum unless you become a worthless whore for me," fuck it, you were desperate, you'd cum from anything at this point. erasing any self dignity, you spread your legs again. props to you, despite his mean nature, he was gonna cum from the sight.

-

lastly, in a group setting, you know he is the biggest boot-licker when it's with his friends at the club, always wanting to impress them and shit, showing how you're his prized possession! he'll make you hang out with his friends, the purple-haired one included, all doing lines and taking puffs of weed, as he "sweetly" guides you to grind on his thigh. saying how: "nobody's gonna notice, they're too high to notice you being so pathetic." and you whine, tears in your eyes because you feel so embarrassed and vulnerable :<, hearing his other friends laugh, you could only hide your face in the crook of nam-gyu's neck. he'd pull on your hair to get you to look at him eye to eye, "you wanted this didn't you? you're asking for it all the time, why not now?" his words are so condescending, it didn't help how your clit is sweetly nudging against the wrinkles of his pants, sometimes you'd even move a bit higher to feel the bulkiness of his belt. or even the tent in his pants in general, but he'll immediately lift you up, because he doesn't wanna give you the satisfaction that he's aroused too!

he's such a perfect guy, you love him. you do. if you actually do, sucks to suck, he thinks you're fucking pathetic.

subby nam-gyu soon? (and kim seowan) prolly will do a few asks, too busy for all this stuff i need sleep! also, guys i love the dark asks, keep them goinnnnnnnnn🥲

[lovebugism]

omggg im craving a halloween themed , rockstar!eddie x shy!reader at a halloween party , matching costumes and everything & he sees a ton of guys hitting on her & is like ???? my baby?

here you go lovie! hope you like it! — eddie takes his girl to a bar on halloween and gets jealous when guys hit on you like you're not already his (shy!reader, rockstar!eddie, established relationship, 1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The world didn’t know you before today.

You’ve been just Eddie Spaghetti’s girlfriend for so long — but now you’re Eddie Munson, up-and-coming rockstar and lead of Corroded Coffin’s girlfriend. The title carries a certain weight with it. You wear it with pride, but it weighs you down just the same. 

What’s weird about tonight, though, is you’re not sharing Eddie with the rest of the world like you thought you would. He’s having to share you, because everyone and their goddamn brother’s been all over you all night. 

Apparently, your coquettish rendition of The Bride of Frankenstein is making everyone else as crazy as it’s making him.

“God, go save your girlfriend, Munson,” Gareth jokes across the booth, laughing into his drink as he watches yet another guy stop you at the bar. “At least one of these assholes is gonna steal her from you.”

“She’s not property, dude. She can’t get stolen,” Jeff scolds from beside him, then flashes Eddie a sheepish glance. “But, yeah, the odds aren’t in your favor, Eds.”

Eddie pays no mind to his friends’ teasing — or the anger swirling like fire in the pit of his stomach. 

“Nah. She’s alright…” he mumbles into the rim of his glass. The whiskey burns his throat going down. It doesn’t match the flame rising in his chest at the sight of his precious girl talking to some douchebag dressed like Elvis Presley.

He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think you weren’t a hundred percent fine. These bozos aren’t trying anything with you — hell, they can barely make conversation with you. You’re just entertaining it because you’re the sweetest thing on the earth.

It’s laughable more than anything.

He’s humored by it all. Not jealous. Definitely not jealous.

“Yeah, who’s the famous one here, again?” Jeff’s girlfriend jokes. She’d left to go to the bathroom with you but came back alone when you got stuck with dollar-store Elvis. She points to the rest of them with a long, manicured finger. “It’s you guys, right? Because I can’t really tell.”

“Fuck off…” Eddie grouses, forcing a grin while the rest of them laugh.

You return then, with a drink in hand and a frown on your face at the sight of your suddenly grumpy boyfriend. “You okay?” you wonder quietly, smoothing down your skirt when you slide into the booth.

The boy moves over to make room for you. “‘M fine,” he answers with a mumble that makes you assume otherwise. 

You reach a hand to his face, smoothing fluffy curls behind his ear. His cheek is warm against your palm. His faded seafoam Frankenstein paint job smears on your wrist.

“‘M sorry for taking so long. Some guy stopped me on the way over. I didn’t wanna be rude.”

Eddie shakes his head. Not a single part of him blamed you.

“It’s okay, babe. Not your fault.” 

He’s full-on beaming now. Just because you called that asshole “some guy.” It feels good to hear you say that, to know that that’s all he is to you — just some fuckin’ guy. You won’t remember him later, if you still do even now.

Honestly, you’ll be lucky to remember your own name at the end of tonight.

“He get that drink for you?” Eddie asks, nodding to the frosted glass in your fist.

You shrug. “Yeah. He bought it, but I watched the bartender make it, so it’s fine.”

He nods, proud and sparkling with it. “Good.”

“What is it?” Gareth wonders, squinting across the table.

“An Old-Fashioned.”

“You hate whiskey,” Eddie laughs, licking the alcohol from the plush of his bottom lip.

“Well, yeah, but he asked what I liked, and I didn’t know what to say, so I just told him your favorite drink,” you ramble, all mousy, as you drag the falling sleeve of your corset back up your shoulder. 

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, still a bit overwhelmed by the attention.

Eddie’s grinning something fierce beside you. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks he might burst.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest fuckin’ thing?” he singsongs with a rosy grin, wrapping the ripped sleeve of his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. 

Then he kisses you. Like, really kisses you. 

It’s deep and intimate and sloppy. He opens your mouth with his and slithers his tongue inside. He tastes like bitter-sweet alcohol. You get drunk on him accordingly. 

The rest of the table gags.

Your lips click audibly when Eddie pulls away. His smile glistens with a mixture of your saliva, lips a deeper shade of pink and slightly swollen. You wipe your chin with the back of your mouth — some of Eddie’s face paint comes with it.

“Where’s he now?” the boy asks with a mischievous squint in his deep chocolate eyes.

You shrug, totally uncaring and just wanting to be kissed. “I dunno.”

“Still at the bar,” Gareth answers for you, snickering to himself. “Giving your girl the sex eyes.”

Your face screws up in disgust. “Sex eyes?” you repeat, nose scrunched.

The group laughs.

“Think you can get him to buy you a round? You know, for the table?” Eddie asks you. His fingers trace shapes on your bare shoulder. You have to fight back a shiver.

“You want me to go talk to him?” you gape, like you must’ve heard him wrong.

“I want you to go get us drinks, sweet thing. Work your magic, you know?”

He’s not in the most right headspace right now. You know this. He’s still high on the post-show adrenaline and mellow on the alcohol.  He’s jealous and in love with you and aflame with hatred for bootleg Elvis Presley. He gets rash when he’s raging, risky and unpredictable — a deadly concoction.

“Eds…” you hum quietly, brows scrunched like the idea pains you. “I don’t wanna make you mad…”

“You won’t make me mad, sweet thing,” Eddie assures, squeezing your shoulder. He presses a sanguine peck to your waiting mouth, then his voice gets all low. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll reward you after.”

He smacks one last kiss to your buzzing lips.

You blink at him until your senses return to you. You slide out from the booth and saunter back to Some Guy, who’s seemingly been waiting on your return this whole time. 

There’s a sudden sway to your hips now, but it’s not for him. 

It’s for Eddie.

The boy with the wild hair back at the booth, missing splotches of his face paint and wearing your lipstick knows this too.

[14dayswithyou]

no way you dropped the biggest river lore in the tags and moved on like it was nothing 😭 can i ask if this is still your intentions with him? bc it sounds like you changed your mind halfway 🤔

im ngl though i really enjoy how ren and river are similar and different to each other, but does that mean river would hurt his angel but leave our friends alone the same way ren would never hurt his angel but would unalive all of our friends? since they're suppose to be each other opposites. i really hope this makes sense 😬 my final question is what is ren doing on thursday? i want to go on a cute pier date again 🩷🌸

@secretkoa asked: and can i hear more about what unsent memory is suppose to be about or is that off limits? idk if i asked this in my previous question so ignore me if i did! thank yuo and remember to drink lots of water 🐸🌱

⌞♥⌝ For those who haven't seen the original post, I want to quickly clarify once more that while River was originally my OC, he's since been picked up and revamped by my friend Jesse/@unsentmemory!!

However, now that Jesse has stepped away from the yandere community, River's fate (and da fate of Unsent Memories) has kinda been put on the sidelines for the foreseeable future.

‼️ Massive Unsent Memories and River spoilers under the cut ‼️ CW for: mentions of gore, torture, mutilation, self-harm, etc.

With all of that being said, yes, Jesse's original intention for River was for him to be your standard "serial killer-turned-yandere once he accidentally catches feelings for his latest victim (Bunny)". The only main difference is that I originally planned for River to be a generic murderer first, whereas Jesse had him become a yandere right off the bat.

You also asked to know more about Unsent Memories, and I think giving a general synopsis(?) would be fine?? ^^ But basically... After getting involved in a car accident, Bunny wakes up with amnesia and gets tricked into thinking that this random guy — whom they've never met before — is their loving, supportive boyfriend named River. In turn, he convinces Bunny that staying in their shared home would be more beneficial than staying in the hospital as it might rekindle some old memories, he'd be able to take care of them, and it would be easier for them to recover at their own pace. But surprise!! River is actually a frequent patron at the Murderer Motel™ and now has trapped Bunny in his Torture Basement®!!! <3 He also maaaay or may not've been the one who hit them with Ren's car as well... ^^ Oopsie daisy hehe

And yeah!! Similar to what you've said, River was also supposed to share (somewhat of) a narrative foil with Ren!! I personally wanted them both to have similar, complimenting vibes with each other — all while having completely different/separate motives and incentives when it comes to the object of their affection. I'm glad to see it was conveyed well enough; even after Jesse's additions to River's characterisation :3 I know I already shared some examples in the previous tags, but I can share a few more:

Where Ren puts Angel's feelings and opinions above his own, River purposefully ignores Bunny's and does everything for his own personal benefit. Essentially, "I'm doing this for you" vs "I'm doing this for me".

While Ren would never dream about harming Angel in any capacity, he's perfectly happy to kidnap, extort, torture, and kill everyone else... In contrast to River, who's accustomed to torturing and brutalising others for his own twisted enjoyment and sees it as a way to show his interest in Bunny.

Kinda silly how Ren claims to be a freelance programmer (but is actually a hacker) and how River claims to work at a music shop (it's a coverup for his second torture chamber lmaoooo).

[CW: implications of SH] Ren is willing to go as far as mentally and physically hurting himself if Angel asks him to, whereas River is willing to physically mutilate Bunny if it means keeping them by his side. [end CW]

With that being said, you can assume that Ren is easily swayed by Angel's words, opinions, and emotions, whereas River can easily sway and manipulate Bunny due to his own feelings and emotions.

This is something I've actually mentioned before, but Ren always prefers things to be tidy, so he often cleans himself up after disposing of his victims. Compared to River, who casually wears the bloodstains with pride and blames it on getting a bit rough with someone else during a boxing match.

It's no secret that Ren is willing to change every aspect of himself to earn Angel's love, and River is willing to change his serial killer ways to return Bunny's love. Da power of friendship and repressed childhood memories gksdgjh T_T /silly

Ren pretends to be a Normal Guy© with tons of empathy to spare, whereas River pretends to be a Regular Person℗ with the heart of a himbo.

I could go on but you get da point lol

So, yeah!! This is essentially the vibes we had planned for River (and Unsent Memories) before Jesse stepped down /pos ^^ I feel like talking vaguely about UM is fine since River only has a small cameo in 14DWY — and I'm sure that if Jesse ever returns from war (/silly), they'll give River muuuuch more justice than I possibly can :3c

[reignpage]

yesss please tell us everyone’s major 😭 I’ve been trying to figure out tojis

Okie dokie, I'll pair it up with their readers too

Gojo

Economics 3rd year Hates it though Only does it cause his family made him So he can take over the business and shit

Reader

Philosophy 3rd year Really loves it Her favourite is Marxism

Geto

Philosophy dropped out Just ended up pushing him away tbh No one could explain the reality he saw

Reader

Classics 2nd year Loves to read Romantic She loves theatre and greek mythology and latin Always in the library when she's not at work That's how she met Sukuna's reader She was in her first year, all lost and trying to find a book, she ran into Sukuna's reader who was a second year and knew the library like the back of her hand They hit it off

Choso

Art 2nd year Doesn't like to go to lectures and classes though Thinks they're a waste of time lowkey Would rather be painting and sketching

Reader

Art 2nd year Loves it Lives and breathes it Always looks for Choso when they have a shared class/lecture Scolds him every time when he doesn't come in

Toji

Business lol 3rd year He chose it because he didn't know what else to do And it seemed simple enough

Reader

Journalism 3rd year She likes to write Always been a gossip But she's finding it hard to make a career out of it since her works are trivial and silly (that's what she thinks, truth is she suffers from confidence issues)

Nanami

Physics duh 3rd year Just likes how practical it is There are rules and laws It's all about making sense of the world Only science he likes tbh Hates chemistry with a passion

Reader

Also physics duh 3rd year It's surprising to people she meets when she says she studies physics Because they assume she's a bimbo And obviously her general unserious personality and need for tutoring might make you guys think she's not very smart But she is She just can't learn from the way physics is rigidly taught in lectures Hates that they read from the PowerPoints and talk slowly And hates the pretentious way researches write She's very smart guys She's just not focused

Sukuna

Politics and International Relations 3rd year Mostly because of his family But he enjoys it Top student too

Reader

Okay please don't accuse me of self-inserting cause I promise im not 😭 But she's a law student 3rd year IT MAKES SENSE She puts a lot of pressure on herself to be the very best She's rigid and strict and she likes the security of law She can't stand things like philosophy and sociology because she thinks they're pointless (so judgy fr) She likes things that are concrete

[nerdallwritey]

Awfully Fond of You

Request: i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a little something for act 1, during the tiefling party for an autistic tav who has a crush on astarion but also has body insecurities + SA trauma, maybe instead of the usual scene that goes down they request to bathe with astarion instead? a tav with poor interoception (sense of awareness with one’s body) who loves to help and touch others but doesn’t quite register others touching them or how they feel about it but still craving intimacy with astarion is something i’m obsessed with (*^^*)*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* i love your writing style and NEVER request so im super nervous!!  - 🪴 (Link to original request here).

Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Rating: 18+ - no smut, but mature themes Word Count: 7.7k CW: Very vague alludes to SA trauma, reader is a sweetie pie, Astarion is an idiot as always - No explicit smut this time; this one's mostly fluff! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3

a/n: Hello folks! I come bearing my very first request fulfillment! As you can tell from the ask, 🪴 anon wanted something very personal and sweet, and I'm incredibly honored that they chose me to see their vision come to life. I did my best to hit every beat they requested, while also staying true to my writing style, which, of course, means there's plenty of banter to be had. Yes, it is a bit similar to An Evening To Ourselves and Perfect Every Time (I swear I was in the middle of writing that one when I received this request), but I'm pleased with how this new remix of Astarion's Act 1 romance scene turned out! And yes, the title IS based on a lyric from everyone's favorite Sesame Street bath time song, "Rubber Duckie." HIT IT, BOYS! (Thank you, as always, to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) NOTE: This Tav is completely separate from bard!Tav and does not take place in the same universe as Beauty and the Bard. Part 5 of that coming soon! And my request box is open!

Without further ado, 🪴 anon, I hope you like it!

The air in camp was abuzz with laughter and cheer. Booze flowed into goblets and down throats, and smiles graced the faces of nearly every guest currently in attendance of the last minute celebration thrown together by you and your companions.

With the goblins and their leaders defeated in what turned out to be a rather difficult encounter, Halsin and Zevlor had insisted on celebrating with you and your party at your campsite before the tieflings made their way to Baldur’s Gate within the next few days. 

Alfira supplied the evening with a somewhat constant stream of joyful songs, only stopping every so often to enjoy a drink with Lakrissa, while other tieflings danced and mingled with each other, relief and excitement making their shoulders relax as they reached for more goblets of wine. 

You were in the process of making your rounds through the party; you’d shared a drink with Shadowheart, some jokes with Gale and Karlach, a quiet moment with Wyll, and a confusing conversation with Lae’zel about limbs being torn from a neogi? You weren’t entirely sure what those even were, but you had to assume they were a fearsome creature if Lae’zel was bringing it up. 

That only left Astarion.

To be honest, you’d been avoiding him all night. Try as he might to catch your eye whenever you passed by, whether it be with a pointed clearing of his throat or a blatant call of your name, you would zero in on something else, and focus all your attention on that. Even if it meant sitting through an extended conversation with Volo. 

But now, there was nowhere left to go. Unless you opted to avoid him completely. And that would only lead to questions from your companions that you wouldn’t know how to answer.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. No. In fact, it was the exact opposite. You liked him a lot. And you weren’t sure what to do about it. 

Astarion was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and you were… you. You’d been you, your whole life, and knew for a fact that the pair of you were an odd couple. Where he was crass, you were kind. Where he was violent, you opted to talk things through. 

And yet, you couldn’t help but enjoy spending time with him. His bloodlust was fascinating to watch, and you loved sparring both physically and verbally with him. More than once, you’d both saved the other’s ass in a sticky situation during battle. More than once, you’d allowed him to drink from you to ease his sanguine hunger. 

You were pretty sure that at the very least, he considered you a friend, though you weren’t sure he’d ever directly admit that to you. Unlike Gale and Wyll, who often reminded you how much they appreciated your friendship, Astarion was much tougher to read. Yet despite his somewhat malicious name calling and disapproval towards your actions, you couldn’t help but feel that he had a soft spot for you. Even when you were telling him he couldn’t kill a man in cold blood, it seemed like he legitimately enjoyed your company. The thought made you smile softly.

Taking in a deep breath and straightening your posture, you finally willed yourself to approach the vampire.

His eyes lit up in that way they often did when he was preparing to tease you.

“There you are, darling,” he said, dramatically. “I was worried I’d never see you again.”

“Worried I’d leave you, huh?” you teased with a smirk. 

Astarion tsked. “Perish the thought. But I recognize someone avoiding me when I see it.”

“Ah,” you clasped your hands in front of yourself, looking down at the ground, “you noticed that.”

“When I usually have to pry you away from me, yes, I noticed.” He took a swig of the wine he was holding.

You nodded and bobbed back and forth on your toes. “Best for last, I guess?” you shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him, hoping he’d drop the subject.

He hummed lamely. 

“So,” you perked up, “are you enjoying the party? I see you’ve been indulging in the spirits.”

“Watching me, were you?” Astarion smirked and you held up your hands, caught.

“Guilty.”

“You know,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You reached out to squeeze his arm. “Don’t say that.”

His eyes met yours, and he gently pulled his arm out of your grasp. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” He closed his eyes and took another swig of his wine. When he brought the bottle away and opened his eyes, he met you with a scowl. “I hate it. This is awful.”

You laughed. “Really? Saving lives is awful?” 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “We killed some goblins to save some tieflings. The tally of lives didn’t change much.”

“You’re awful,” you shook your head affectionately. 

He looked smug before puffing his chest. “And what do I get for all my hard work?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“Nothing but a pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.” 

You pursed your lips and reached for the bottle, brushing your fingers against his own. 

“Let me try,” you said, lifting the bottle to your lips and taking a sip. Your tongue was flooded with the bitter taste of fermented grapes and something else you couldn’t place. Your face scrunched at the flavor and Astarion snorted.

“See what I mean? Awful.”

You handed the bottle back to him, smacking your tongue to get rid of the aftertaste. He took the opportunity to continue speaking.

“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You let out an amused scoff. “Knowing you, it probably is.”

Astarion lifted a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Oh, don’t be so sour. I like a good time as much as anyone.”

“‘Sour,’” you repeated, pointing at his wine bottle. “Good one.”

He smirked. “You know, we could always make our own entertainment, darling.”

“Oh, really?” You lifted an eyebrow. “And what does that entail?”

“We could get a little closer, so to speak.”

You were suddenly very aware of how close you were standing to Astarion. You took a considerable step backwards and crossed your arms. 

“Sorry, I was really close to you just now, wasn’t I?” You rubbed up and down your bicep awkwardly.

Astarion blinked before his face settled into a seductive smirk. He reached his free hand out to rest on your hip. “On the contrary, my dear. I rather like it when you’re close.”

“Oh, good,” you sighed in relief. You brought your hand down to where Astarion’s rested on your hip. “Sometimes I can’t tell.”

He chuckled, squeezing your hip slightly. “So what do you say?”

“To us getting closer? I don’t mind!” To emphasize your point, you took a step forward and rested your other hand on his shoulder.

Astarion furrowed his brow. Then he chuckled again, gently removing both of your hands from his body. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.”

“Okay, now I’m really interested in what kind of entertainment you have planned.” You smirked at him, sensing a shift in his tone, but unsure of what it meant. “Don’t tell me you’re a master of shadow puppets or something.”

He smiled skeptically. “Very funny,” he said slowly. “But I trust you’ll meet me?”

You giggled. “Yes, I’ll see you later, Astarion.” 

“Indeed you will, my love. Indeed you will.” Rather than bid you a proper goodbye, Astarion brought the wine bottle to his lips once more and turned away from you. 

You spun on your heel and made your way back to the party. 

This was fine. Good, even! Spending time one-on-one with Astarion was probably exactly what you needed if you wanted to navigate this silly crush you’d developed. Sure, he’d just called you “my love,” and that was a new one, but it wasn’t that much different from the other pet names he threw at you and your companions. You didn’t need this foolish infatuation distracting you on your journey or, gods forbid, diverting your attention during battle. No, this would be the perfect time to remind yourself and your fluttering heart that Astarion was, first and foremost, your friend, and a person. It didn’t need to be anything more than that. 

Your feet carried you not too far from Astarion’s tent and landed you at Karlach’s tent, the tiefling in question currently lying on her back, looking up at the stars.

“Hey, Hot Stuff,” you said, standing over her. 

“Soldier!” she grinned, her eyes a bit fuzzy from the wine. 

“This seat taken?” You kicked your foot over some dirt to her left. 

“All yours,” she said, sitting up to join you. 

You settled down next to her and watched the party still taking place at the center of camp. It sounded like Gale and Lae’zel were having some sort of heated argument over which main courses were best to prepare for battle, while Halsin awkwardly weaved between them to gather a plate of food for himself.

“Saw you chatting up Fangs just now,” Karlach playfully air-elbowed you, careful not to accidentally touch and scorch you. “Did he have anything good to say?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you shrugged. “He was an ass to me, I was an ass to him, the usual.”

Karlach nodded. “Sounds about right.”

You both sat in pleasant silence for a moment before you laughed a little. “It’s funny, he actually asked me to spend time with him tonight, after the party.”

Karlach furrowed her brow. “After the party? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head, “he said we could ‘make our own entertainment.’” You made air quotes when you repeated his words. “I figure he wants to read together or something. It was just weird how he phrased it.”

She sat up a little straighter, her expression growing more serious. “Hang on, what were his words, exactly?”

You leaned back a little, confused by her sudden interest in your mundane conversation with the vampire. “Um… I don’t know. He said he didn’t like being a hero, I told him not to say that, he said he wanted more than a pat on the head and bad wine, I tried the wine and it was bad, he said he wanted a little fun, ‘is that so much to ask?’ and I said ‘knowing you, it probably is,’ and then he said we could make our own entertainment. Or something like that.”

“Huh.” Karlach thought for a moment. “I think he means to bone you, Soldier.”

You sputtered out a laugh. “What?! No he doesn’t!”

“He sooooo does!” Karlach barked out a laugh. “And good for you! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”

“He does not,” you said again, trying to convince yourself as much as you were trying to convince Karlach. 

But you faltered. 

“Does he?”

“Soldier,” Karlach lowered her head at you, giving you an incredulous look, “he was absolutely asking you to get nasty with him.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Yes!” she threw her hands up in the air. “We all see the way you look at each other! You practically undress one another with your eyes every time you see each other!”

“No we don’t!” you argued, but shrank back when Karlach raised an eyebrow at you. 

“You do. You know you do.” 

“Am I that obvious?” you asked, lifting your hands to your cheeks as you felt them heating up. 

Karlach started counting on her fingers. “He’s always the first one you check on after a battle, you’re always walking next to him when we’re traveling, AND you let him drink your blood. Weirdly often. Which is gross.”

“I like helping him,” you countered weakly. “And I always check on you guys, too!”

“Of course you do, Soldier, but we can all see how you two treat each other differently.”

You peered over at Astarion’s tent. He lounged comfortably amongst his pillows, a book propped open in his lap and his bottle of wine was not too far off. 

How could he be so casual and relaxed about all of this? The thought of talking to him later tonight made your stomach drop.

“What if I turn him down?” you asked softly, leaning forward to hug your knees.

Karlach’s expression softened. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She reached out a hand, but retracted it. “If I could, I’d rub your back like my mum used to do when I was a kid.”

You smiled over at her. “Thanks.”

She nodded. “If you don’t want to sleep with the leech, that’s your choice. Don’t let him talk you into it if it’s not what you want.”

“I’m not entirely sure what I want,” you admitted, looking up at the familiar stars above.

Karlach sighed. “Well, you don’t have to decide anything tonight.” She nodded her head towards his tent. “In fact, I could go beat the shit out of him, if you’d like.”

You laughed. “Not necessary. But I appreciate the offer.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I know you will,” you smiled and settled your cheek on top of your knee. “I do really like him,” you confessed.

Karlach thought for a moment. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the problem?” She cocked her head curiously.

You sighed. “Sex isn’t really something… I have a great relationship with.”

“Ah,” Karlach nodded. “Same,” she joked, flaring her flames a little for good measure.

You snickered quietly. “I won’t get into it, but… yeah. No thanks. For now, at least.”

“Say no more,” she held up her hand and turned to observe Astarion at his tent. “You could always just see what he has to say? Maybe he just wants to show you he’s a master at shadow puppets or something.”

“That’s what I said!” you laughed, and Karlach joined in.

When you’d both settled, she spoke again. “But seriously, Soldier. Astarion may be a freaky vampiric bastard, but I don’t think he’d hurt you.”

“I don’t think he would either.”

“He knows we’d kill him.”

“I’m sure you’d all take turns sending him to the hells.”

“You bet your sweet ass we would,” she brought her fist to her hand as if preparing to punch this hypothetical Astarion. 

After another quiet moment, she spoke again. “You don’t have to go with him tonight. Or, I could come with you, if you want. As backup.”

“Thanks,” you said, “but I think I need to have this conversation with him alone.”

“Of course.”

You looked back over at Astarion’s tent. He was now standing and stretching his arms over his head. When he caught you watching him, he smirked and threw a wink in your direction. You quickly snapped your head forward, back towards the center of the party. Groaning, you brought your hands up to cover your face.

“What am I gonna do?”

~~~~~

Staring into the trees ahead of you, you remained frozen in place. 

The party had died down and dispersed about an hour ago, giving you and your companions plenty of time to perform a quick cleanup and head to bed. And just as Astarion had said, once a peaceful quiet had enveloped the camp, he’d come to your tent and wordlessly motioned for you to follow him. 

Now you were wringing your hands, trying to convince yourself to follow after him into the forest.

Karlach was right: you didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to do. And Astarion was a reasonable guy. 

To a degree.

Okay, no he wasn’t. 

He was always prepared to kill someone who wronged him in an instant. But surely he’d be reasonable in this department. Your gut told you that that was true. And if it wasn’t, you’d sicc Karlach and the others on him. 

You knew it wouldn’t come to that, though. You felt strongly that he was the type who wouldn’t react rashly to a rejection. 

Before you’d even made up your mind to do so, you found yourself walking into the trees, following the general direction you’d seen Astarion head off towards. The least you could do was hear him out. And who knew, maybe this would be a funny anecdote in your friendship later on down the line. Only time would tell.

It took a few minutes of mindless wandering before you reached a clearing. You kept going, prepared to keep walking until you eventually found Astarion, when you spotted him emerging from behind a tree in your peripheral. 

You screeched to a halt and turned to face him, growing stiff with nerves when you realized he was shirtless. 

“There you are,” he said, his hand lingering on the tree behind him. “I’ve been waiting.” 

He approached you slowly. 

Seductively. 

You stood completely still.

He continued, “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.”

You swallowed thickly.

He moved even closer. “Waiting to have you.”

“About that,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “what exactly do you mean?”

Astarion’s sensual expression morphed into one of confusion. Then he laughed a little. “Isn’t it obvious? Tonight is about pleasure.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” you muttered.

While you were pretty sure he heard you, Astarion pressed on anyway. 

“Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”

“Astarion,” you said quickly, surging forward to grab his hands in yours, “please.”

He looked surprised, but quickly recovered with an alluring smirk. “Please what, darling?”

“We don’t have to.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes skeptically. “Don’t have to what?”

You groaned and leaned your head forward to rest on his bare shoulder. After a second you lifted your face back up to look at him. “We don’t have to sleep together.”

This time, Astarion looked stunned. “Then… what are you doing here?” 

You shrugged. “I thought we could talk.”

Astarion pulled away from you and took a step back. “‘Talk?’ I thought we had an understanding?”

“See, that’s the thing,” you said, “I did not understand.”

“Hmm,” he hummed and tilted his head in disbelief.

“I’m serious,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “I thought you wanted to spend time together.”

“Oh, but I do,” his lips quirked up mischievously. “I mean to spend the entire night with you, my dear.”

“And while that sounds great, I think you and I are having different thoughts about how to spend that time.” You held his gaze, willing him to hear you.

He humphed. “So you don’t want to have sex with me?”

“Not right now, no.”

He sputtered his lips together and threw his arms up. “And what does that mean?”

“It means… It means I don’t want to have sex right now. At all.” You watched his face scrunch in incredulity. “It has nothing to do with you!” you clarified, grabbing one of his hands again. “Believe me, this is all me.”

Astarion looked you up and down, scanning your body language. You still held his hand and leaned into him ever so slightly. 

“What’s this then?” he asked, placing his free hand over the hand holding his.

You pulled away from him completely. “Sorry,” you said, “I end up touching the people I like. I don’t realize I’m doing it.”

He narrowed his eyes, putting the pieces together in his head. 

“You like me.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t want to sleep with me.”

“Yes.”

“So… what? You want to be friends or something?” He made a sour expression.

You laughed softly. “I’d like to think we’re already friends, actually.”

“And why would you think that?” Astarion asked, but you saw in his eyes that he was teasing.

You smiled lightly. “Maybe because you won’t stop following me around Faerûn?”

“Well, it’s not like I-”

“Or maybe because you’ve had a taste of my blood and now you can’t get enough?”

“Okay, that’s-”

“Or maybe because Karlach said you treat me differently than you treat everyone else.”

“She did not!” Astarion sounded genuinely scandalized and you laughed.

“Face it, pretty boy, you like me, too.”

Astarion groaned and rolled his eyes. “This is not at all going how I planned.”

You pursed your lips and wrapped your arms around yourself again. “Sorry.”

He glanced back at you and saw you staring at the ground. He sighed. 

“No, I’m sorry, darling.”

You met his eyes. He stepped closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch. 

“I assumed you wanted the same thing as me, and I was wrong.”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Still,” he said, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek, “I misread your touches as advances rather than…” He searched for the proper words. “One of your quirks.”

You exhaled, amused. “You didn’t entirely misread me.”

“Pardon?”

“I do like you. A lot. And if things were different, maybe I would sleep with you, but…”

Astarion pulled away from you and held up a hand. “No explanation needed, darling.” He smirked. “But it's good to know how you feel.”

You felt your cheeks go red. “Yeah,” you said, suddenly shy.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “You’re so adorable when you’re thinking of what to say.”

You shook your head and patted your cheeks. “I have another idea,” you said.

He nodded for you to continue and crossed his arms.

“Um… if it’s alright with you, I…” You paused, not exactly sure how he’d react. 

“What is it, darling?”

“I’d like to… bathe you.”

Astarion uncrossed his arms and looked rather dumbfounded.

“What?”

Your words came out clumsily and a little too fast: “Or not! I don’t know, I just like you so much, and I’d like to be closer to you but I don’t want to have sex with you so I thought maybe we could get closer another way, or maybe-”

“Okay,” Astarion interrupted.

“Huh?”

He moved closer to you and brushed some hair out of your face.

“Okay,” he repeated softly. “Let’s bathe together.”

“Oh,” you said, disbelief painting your features. 

Astarion laughed. “Did you assume I’d say no?”

You shrugged as a smile grew on your face. “I don’t know what I expected,” you reached for his hand, “but I’m really glad you said yes.”

~~~~~

The walk back to camp was pleasantly silent, save for the crickets singing their nightly aria. Astarion kept pace with you, the back of your hands brushing every so often, each time sending a tiny shock wave through your body. 

This was happening. You were going to have a private, intimate moment with Astarion. Even if it hadn’t been what he originally intended, you were happy to think of a compromise that still allowed you to get close to him in a way that you knew the others in camp hadn’t, and probably wouldn’t. It made you feel special.

Happy.

And nervous. 

Nervous as all hells, to be honest. You felt your heart speeding up with every step you took, bringing you closer to camp.

“Something wrong, darling?” Astarion asked, giving you a sideways glance.

You jumped a little when his voice broke the silence. “Huh?”

“Your heart, love. It’s pounding.” He waggled his eyebrows teasingly. “Nervous?”

“Oh, that.” You held a hand to your chest and focused on slowing your breathing. When you turned to look at him, you asked, “Is that weird?”

“Seeing as how this was your suggestion, maybe a little.” He smiled and nudged his shoulder into yours.

You groaned. “If this is too weird, let’s just not.”

Astarion halted and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He spun you to look into his eyes. “Whatever’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, darling, cut it out.”

“Oh, okay great. Done.”

“Really?”

“No, not really!” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He sighed. “Never is that easy, is it?”

It was a rhetorical question, but you shook your head anyway. 

“Well, whatever’s making you nervous, I’ll strive to steer clear of it.”

He looked at you expectantly, as if he wanted some sort of explanation. You avoided his eyes and moved to continue walking towards camp. He followed close behind.

“It’s just that…” you paused, trying to collect your thoughts. “I haven’t been… naked in front of someone. For a while.”

Astarion bit his lip, mirth in his eyes.

“Don’t laugh!” you exclaimed, mortified.

“No, no, darling!” His tone was gleeful. “Apologies. It’s just that that’s what’s making you nervous? I’ll have you know that you’re one of the more beautiful creatures who I’ve attempted to bed. You have nothing to fear. I’ve seen all manner of bodies and I can assure you, yours will be nothing short of exquisite. In fact, your shyness is rather endearing.” He smiled at you, looking like he might still be withholding a laugh.

You flattened your lips into a line. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” You began walking ahead of him but stopped when you heard him call your name.

“I may be a rake and a thief, but I’m no liar.”

You blinked at him. “Yes you are! You lie all the time!”

“Okay, yes, sure, but I don’t lie about things that matter! Things like this!” He motioned up and down, indicating your body.

Just as he did so, the two of you emerged from the trees and into camp. You held a finger to your lips and indicated for him to be quiet. He nodded and padded after you as you crept quietly towards the shore of the lake that lapped quietly next to your sleeping campsite. You bent to pick up towels, along with the bucket that held soap and other washing supplies that you and your companions shared in an effort to stay clean on the road. You held them up and motioned for Astarion to follow you again, away from where Withers stoically kept watch, and more towards where you’d spoken with Wyll earlier in the evening. When you turned to face Astarion, his eyes were full of questions.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” you asked.

He perked up and grinned. “My love, there is nothing I’d like more.”

You searched his eyes one more time to make sure he was serious. When you were satisfied with what you saw, you motioned for him to step into the lake. 

“Ladies first,” you teased, looking anywhere but at Astarion.

He, in turn, looked down his nose at you. “I know what this is,” he said, pointing a lazy finger at you.

“What’s what?”

“You’re stalling, darling.”

“I am not!”

Astarion crossed his arms and tilted his head towards you, unimpressed.

Your posture fell into a slouch. “Okay fine, maybe I am stalling.”

“Really?” Astarion said dramatically before dropping his arms to his sides again. He approached you, close enough to where you could feel his cool breath on your face. 

He placed both of his hands on your hips. You looked down to watch as his fingers drummed a calming rhythm into your sides. He whistled quietly, gaining your attention. 

“Let’s start here,” he suggested, now fingering the hem of your shirt. He refused to let you look away. 

You nodded.

“Good,” he purred as you raised your arms and helped him take off your shirt. 

The cool air of the evening immediately sent goosebumps down your arms, and you unconsciously crossed them over your chest for warmth.

Astarion tsked. “Come now,” he protested and placed two gentle hands on your wrists, guiding them to your sides. “Lovely,” he praised once he was able to look at you. 

You made an uncomfortable sound before placing your hands on your waistband. 

“These probably need to come off next, right?”

“Typically that’s how one bathes themself, yes.”

“Right,” you agreed, watching as Astarion mirrored you and reached for his own waistband. You looked down at your legs as you removed your pants, leaving you in only your underwear. 

“Goodness, love,” Astarion said quietly and you looked at him shyly. He himself was now only in his underwear. “You have nothing to be shy about. You’re magnificent.”

“Would you shush and get into the water please?” you half teased, half begged. Anything  to end this weird tension you were feeling. 

“Alright,” he laughed softly before reaching for the waistband of his underwear. He looked at you for approval. When you nodded, he removed them in one fluid motion as if he’d done this a million times. Maybe he had.

Regardless, you couldn’t help but stare at the space between his legs.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Eyes up here.”

“Sorry,” you said, immediately flicking your eyes up to his face. “I didn’t- It’s just-”

Astarion chuckled. “I understand.”

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Your turn,” he said, lifting his eyebrows.

You bit your lip and slowly reached for your underwear. When you pulled them off, Astarion watched you without a hint of judgment in his eyes. You ran a hand through your hair and shifted nervously on your feet. 

He held out a hand to you and you stared at it before looking up at his face. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going in this frigid water alone, are you mad?”

You laughed and took his hand. He instantly pulled your body to his, holding you so that you were chest to chest. He gave you a seductive smirk before leaning in. You leaned away, avoiding his advances. You shook your head ever so slightly before stepping into the gentle water. Astarion remained standing on the shore before following after you. 

Braving the cold of the water, you sunk down until you were sitting in neck deep water. You let the bucket you’d brought with you float next to you as Astarion crept through the water, clearly freezing. 

“Why did I let you convince me to bathe at night? There’s no sun out to warm this wretched lake.”

You ducked your mouth below the surface to blow some bubbles in his direction. “You should know by now that dunking your whole body helps you warm up faster.”

He gave you a dirty look before slowly sinking down in front of you, yelping and contorting his face the entire time. You couldn’t help but squawk out a laugh. 

When he was fully seated, he pulled you towards him, making you sit in his lap. He gave you a sensual look that had you frowning and pulling back. He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“When I said I wanted to bathe you, that’s all I meant.”

“Ah.” His tone was confused. Then he shook his head. “Right, sorry. This is - well… you know.” He smiled, looking like he was admitting defeat and that he wasn’t pleased about it. “I have no idea what to do with you.”

You swam behind him, pulling the bucket of soap towards you and laying your hands on both of his shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything.”

He spun to face you. “Nothing?”

You nodded and he huffed out a laugh. “No sex, no fooling around…I’m sorry, darling. It’s just - having to slow down, it’s… I’m just not used to it.” 

“That’s okay,” you rested your hands on his shoulders again. “We’re in no rush.”

He hummed. “Can you… I don’t know. Help? Show me what to do?”

Laughing, you took his hand. “I’ll try.”

You led your weightless bodies into shallower water and had Astarion sit facing away from you, towards the shore. Reaching for the bucket again, you pulled out a bar of soap and a sponge. 

“Relax,” you cooed, seeing how tensely he held his shoulders close to his ears. 

He let loose a breath and you watched as he relaxed his muscles. Your eyes traveled lower, suddenly catching a glimpse of a complicated and gruesome scar on his back. Your eyes widened, taking in how the water and moonlight reflected off of it. Calmly, you dipped the sponge in the water and added soap before gently rubbing his right shoulder. Astarion melted further, allowing his neck to tilt forward, which, in turn, gave you a better view of his scarred flesh.

“Um… Is it okay for me to wash your back?” you hesitated in bringing the sponge across his shoulder and over his back to his other shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t - oh. I suppose you’re talking about the poem.” He barely looked over his shoulder at you.

“I’ve never seen a poem like this,” you said quietly, a hint of anger in your voice.

He chuckled darkly in response. “It’s a gift from my old master, Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. Do you like it, darling?” He shimmied his shoulders, mockingly preening over the evidence of his own torment.

“Not at all,” you said evenly, continuing to wash his shoulders. 

“Ouch, love, you’d hurt his feelings if he heard that.” Not a hint of joy reached his eyes.

“I don’t much care about the feelings of this old master of yours.”

“Oh, be still, my undead heart,” he held a hand to his chest sarcastically. Then he sighed. “You’re allowed to wash it. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” His voice was quiet when he said, “Thank you for asking.”

Wordlessly, you moved the sponge from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades. 

“I’m not going to break,” he laughed softly, “you don’t have to be so gentle.”

You increased the pressure you were applying to his skin before adding more soap to the sponge. “Move up a little,” you instructed, tapping him to move closer to the shore. “Lean forward.”

Now you had a better angle to wash away the grime of the road from his back, and an even better view of the scar. You clicked your tongue and set to work. 

Perhaps uncomfortable by your silence, Astarion began to speak again. “He, Cazador, composed and carved that poem over the course of a night.” There was a venom to his words. Maybe a deep regret, or a weighing sadness. “He made a lot of revisions as he went.”

Your hand paused over a particularly brutal ridge. You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against the raised tissue. “You’re brave for enduring that.”

“What are you doing?” Astarion straightened, making you push your cheek further into his skin. 

You pulled back immediately. “Sorry, I wanted to hug you. I should have asked. I just… wanted you to know that I care.”

Astarion looked over his shoulder at you blankly. “You ‘care?’”

You nodded. “Turn back around, let me keep washing you.”

He gave you a slight nod before facing forward again and leaning over. 

After another silent moment of gliding the sponge across his back, you asked, “Any idea what it means? Or is it just some pattern?”

Astarion let out an unamused laugh. “Hells if I know. Not sure how much you know about vampires, darling, but typically, we can’t see our reflections.” He spoke as if talking to a child. 

You splashed his back with a small wave from your hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You’re lashing out at me when I was just asking a question.”

“I-” He paused. Then he fell silent.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped but… I’m not your enemy,” you said gently. “We don’t have to keep talking about this. We don’t have to talk at all.”

Astarion groaned. “Silence is dreadful, darling.”

“Is that why you never stop talking?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood again.

“Good one,” he said flatly, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “I only talk because you lot never have anything interesting to say.”

You scoffed with a smile. “I have plenty of interesting things to say!”

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Like-” you thought for a moment. “Like the other day! When I was talking with you about your embroidery!” By now you’d moved on to washing over Astarion’s arms. You spun him to face you so you could wash and massage his hands. 

Astarion clicked his tongue. “Unfortunately, darling, that’s not an entirely interesting topic, seeing as how I was in the middle of mending a shirt and you just wanted an excuse to talk to me.”

“I did not!” you denied, massaging between his fingers. Unconsciously, his fingers curled around yours before retracting and flexing. 

“Deny all you want, you still didn’t say anything interesting.”

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “If I’m so uninteresting, why did you want to spend the evening with me of all people?” You were massaging his other hand. 

“You-” He paused again.

“I?”

“You’re… I’m still trying to figure you out.” His voice grew softer when you pulled yourself closer to wash across his chest. You sensed the shift and looked up at his face to make sure he was okay with your actions. When he nodded minutely, you continued. 

“If you’re trying to figure me out… one might say that you’re interested in me.”

He groaned. “Say whatever you want to help you sleep better tonight, darling.”

“Uh huh,” you said pleasantly to yourself, feeling like you’d won. You looked away to add more soap to the sponge and when you looked back, you realized how close you were to his face. His pupils were blown wider than usual and you could see yourself reflected in his eyes against the moonlight. His breath tickled your face. 

He watched you with an intensity that had you hesitating. Why was he so-?

“Look up,” you said, looking up yourself to demonstrate what you wanted. “Please.”

He held your gaze for as long as he could before looking up at the sky. 

You carefully brushed the sponge along his throat, pausing briefly when you got to the twin wounds on his throat from the night he was turned. You circled them gently with the sponge before rinsing the suds with water cupped in your hand. A shiver ran through Astarion’s body.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said looking back down at you once you’d finished rinsing the suds away. “But I’d very much like to kiss you.”

You blinked a few times before resting your forehead against his. When you pulled back, you asked, “Is it okay for me to wash your hair?”

Astarion looked at you for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips for a second before meeting your eyes again. “I suppose so,” he said.

“I don’t have to. Your legs are still-”

“I can handle my own lower half, thank you.” He winked at you.

You smiled and handed him the sponge before bringing yourself to rest behind him again. You gathered the bucket that was still floating nearby and submerged it until it was filled about halfway with water.

“You can either dunk yourself, or I can pour this over your head,” you held the bucket for Astarion to see.

“I’m actually quite enjoying you taking care of me, darling. I trust you won’t drown me.”

“A mistake,” you said, pretending to dump the bucket over his head all at once. “Can vampires even drown? It’s not like you need to breathe.”

“I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you,” he smirked. 

Instead of dumping the entire bucket on his head like you threatened, you poured a gentle stream along the back of his skull before moving forward to evenly wet the rest of his hair. 

“Bloody hells, that is cold,” he pushed some flattened curls out of his face.

“For being a fearsome vampire, you sure are a wimp,” you teased. 

“I could rip your throat out.”

“And I might be able to drown you.” You placed firm hands on both his shoulders and pushed gently, as if you wanted to test your theory. 

“Terrifying,” he smirked, running the sponge along his legs underwater.

“You should see what I did to those goblins who were holding Halsin hostage.”

Astarion laughed. “I know, darling, I was there. Who knew you could be so hellbent on vengeance?”

You laughed softly, coating your hands in soap before running them through his curls. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Like?” he prompted.

“Astarion!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “You want to know more about me?”

“Well if I knew you’d make a fuss, I wouldn’t have said anything.” Despite his tone, his eyes were closed in pleasure as you continued to massage his scalp. 

You chuckled quietly, trying to think of something to share with him. 

“I’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate my whole life,” you started.

“A shame we never crossed paths.”

“I’m not entirely sure you’d spare me a passing glance.”

Astarion opened his eyes. “Don’t say that.”

You shrugged. “I read a lot, growing up, and liked being indoors. But I also liked the outdoors. I helped my dad tend our garden, and helped my mom cook dinner–”

“How quaint.”

“We’d visit my aunt in the Upper City every Midwinter, and I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.” 

“Pity, you have such a promising career as a spa keeper.”

You examined Astarion’s head to make sure you hadn’t missed a spot. When you were pleased with your own work, you continued: “This is the first big adventure I’ve ever been on.”

“First brain worm?” Astarion opened one eye and pointed to his temple.

You laughed and nodded. 

He smiled. “Mine, too.”

You filled the bucket with more water and held a hand over his forehead to keep soapy water from splashing into his eyes when you poured the fresh water over his foamy locks. 

Astarion sighed as the soap began to wash away. You filled the bucket again to repeat the process. 

“Did you ever foresee yourself bathing a beautiful vampire, when you were a child?”

You pursed your lips. “I mean, I had my hopes.” You smiled as he let out a laugh. 

“Tonight definitely didn’t go how I expected,” he admitted.

“You didn’t foresee yourself getting bathed by your incredibly interesting leader?”

He let out an amused breath from his nose. “No I did not.”

You finished rinsing out the last of the soap from his hair, but continued raking your fingers through it. “Are you disappointed?” Your voice was small.

He turned to face you, making your hands disconnect from his curls. “Not at all,” he said, sounding genuine. “Pleasantly surprised, actually.” He thought for a moment. “And cleaner than I’ve been in weeks. Probably.”

You laughed. “Happy to have provided my services.”

He smiled at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “This was nice.” He lifted his hand to swipe through his hair. “Let’s hope you didn’t ruin my hair.”

“With soap and water?”

“You might have done it wrong,” he teased.

“How? It’s soap and water!”

“Not so loud,” he chuckled, nodding his head towards camp. You could vaguely hear Gale snoring in the distance. 

“I’m leaving,” you joked, moving to get up, but Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into the water.

“Am I not to return the favor?”

You looked back at him and half smiled, patting his cheek. “I’m not convinced you’d do a thorough enough job.” With that, you pushed away from him and got up, gathering the bathing materials and walking back to shore where towels awaited. 

Astarion sputtered behind you. “How dare you! I could give you a massage, the likes of which you’ve never experienced before!”

“You know, sometimes, Astarion, people do things for other people, and don’t want anything in return.” You threw the towel over your head to start drying your hair before wrapping it around your body. 

Astarion did the same before bending to pick up your discarded clothes. “I- Well… You-” He sighed heavily. “You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?”

“I’m not trying to be,” you shrugged.

“And yet,” he sidled up next to you, offering you his arm, “you are.” 

You took his arm in one hand and the bucket of washing supplies in the other and followed him as he led you back into camp. You placed the materials back where you found them and brought your newly freed hand up to wrap around Astarion’s arm. You leaned your head onto his shoulder. 

When you arrived at your tent, he handed you your clothes. 

“I suppose this is where we end our evening,” he said quietly so as not to wake the others.

“I suppose so,” you agreed, your eyes shining as you looked at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Thank you for letting me do that,” you said, still holding his arm. “I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“I did,” he said. “Very much, actually.” When he saw the excited look on your face, he amended, “Don’t be weird.”

“I’m not weird,” you said, weirdly.

��Uh huh,” Astarion said, pulling his arm out of your grip, not unkindly.

“We can do it again,” you bobbed on your feet, “if you want.”

“I… could be persuaded,” he nodded.

“Good,” you said. Then you surged forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. Goodnight Astarion.” You turned and ducked down into your tent.

“Pleasant dreams, darling,” he said softly. 

You didn’t see how his hand lingered on his cheek where your lips had made contact, didn’t see the small smile that crept onto his face or the mask beginning to slip. 

Instead, you had pleasant dreams filled with laughs and curls and a flash of fangs accompanied by a smile of delight. 

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hii! Hope you’re having a great day :D

I was thinking about Law with a tall male reader who looks very intimidating. everyone thinks that he is the top in the relationship but Law is the one who actually tops/? Like his s/o looks like a top but is actually a pillow princess. ;)

You can take this as a request or not if you want :3

Trafalgar D. Water Law x Tall male reader

Headcanons

Guten Abend everyone, still getting dragged over the studying coals, but fuck it we ball.

No outright smut in this one, mainly just focusing on their relationship since im exhausted, but I hope its still enjoyable.

In the One Piece universe, being tall can mean a lot of things. Being taller than Law just means you have to be somewhere over 6 ft 5, or taller, if that’s what you prefer. Being intimidating isn’t too hard either, especially if you are a fellow pirate.

Seeing you two together can be a little off-putting to the people around you, at least the ones that aren’t part of your crew, who know you two on a more personal level.

No one would dare to make assumptions in the beginning of a meeting, since Law already has quite the reputation, and either your scary aura or your own dangerous reputation makes people shut up. They might have ideas to themselves, but they wouldn’t verbalize it.

It probably comes up during an afterparty of some kind, after you guys have defeated the baddie of the week and you’re all kicking back. Since Law isn’t a big fan of drinking, you would end up being the one getting tipsy out of the two of you.

At some point during the night, Kidd or others who are more comfortable with you two, would start making jabs or ask questions, as one does when you get wasted. It becomes clear pretty damn quick though, that everyone thinks that Law is the one who bottoms.

Law isn’t the type to out your guy’s bedroom life, but I could still imagine him asking, in a bit of a tense tone, why they think that. That’s when you guys get the explanation from your allies and friends. But it all boils down to you being taller, bigger, scarier and with a stronger presence. So, it just made sense to them.

It gets a bit of a laugh from you, and you can tell from the tension in Laws jaw that it gets on his nerves, maybe even hurting his ego a little. But you also know your lover wouldn’t verbalize those thoughts, not wanting to admit something like an assumption of his bedroom role would hit him in any way.

When you guys get back to the polar tang, one would assume Law would drag you off to the bedroom to show you and him that your friends and allies’ assumptions were wrong. But Law is also a doctor, so he wouldn’t want to do such a thing when you’re drunk.

Instead, he gets some water in you, gets you something to eat, helps you get washed down if that’s what you need, and then the two of you conk out in bed, Law the big spoon even if you are taller. Hes like your tattooed backpack, if the height difference is big enough.

Law doesn’t end up making a move on you in the morning either if you suffer from hangovers, instead your lover would make sure you were alright, and get you something for the hangover if its bad enough. His ego may have been wounded a little, but he’s a respectful guy, especially to you as his lover.

That evening, or the day after though, you’re all his, not that you mind though. Seeing as all your crewmates are most likely still out partying or suffering from hangovers, you two have the polar tang all to yourself.

As you enjoy laying back and receiving pleasure without doing much in return, Law gets to do most of the work. He doesn’t need the same in return, as giving you pleasure is satisfying for him. Being in charge would feel quite nice for him, as it allows him to have an eye on the entire situation and what’s going on.

Law would definitely also use his devil fruit power when you guys are together, since it would make it easier for the both of you, and with his devil fruit he’s able to reach parts of you no one else can.

In the end, people you meet, and probably most of your friends and allies, think you are the top still, but Law wouldn’t mind too much after you show him that you don’t think lesser of him or let other people’s assumptions bother you or your relationship.

[alexa-yukiyu]

Burning Protection ( Red haired pirates x Reader)

A/N YOOO ITS BEEN A LONG TIME, IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRYY, I came back but I dont think I came back cooking y’all, I swear im going to try to make a dent in the requests soon, I really miss writing but I just got the biggest block, but damn do I miss it.

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/drinkthesky and @/firefly-graphics

Dokucha Stills at the powerful presence, turning around to spot a red-haired man with a serious expression on his scarred face, similar expressions mirrored on the men behind him.

"Rays of sunshine, the lot of you, aren't you?" They questioned nervously

"Did you burn the Flag?" The man questioned, ignoring their joking statement

"Flag? Buddy, I'm not sure what you're on about."

"That's not what the villagers seemed to say when asked. Everyone said the same thing 'It was the carrying a staff, one that fits the description of the one you are carrying," Hongo piped in, glancing at them and said items

"It could have been someone else carrying a staff. Did you think of that?" They frowned when their jest was received by the first mate pointing his riffle their way

"Stop messing around."

"Alright, Alright, gee, all this over a flag, was it?"

"It might seem like just a flag to you, but that flag provides safety to not only this village but others as well. If I let them get desecrated like this, allies and friends would become targets."

Their eyes harden at his words as they begin to understand the severity of the situation

"I apologize; I was not aware how important this flag was; regardless, I was not lying; I have not burned any flags."

"Are you saying that the dozens of people that pointed us your way are lying?"

"I'm saying that they were wrong, and you are fools to assume the first person to closely meet that description is the person you're looking for; I mean, all you got is the description of a staff, for all you know, someone could have borrowed-" they stopped their rambling as they purse their lips a realization hitting them ,something that was not lost to Shanks

"I didn't burn your flag," they repeated

"But you know who did."

"..."

"You can either tell us now, or we can drag you with us as we find out who It was; we will find eventually," Benn spoke as he lowered his rifle

Dokucha sent a scowl their way, muttering curses under their breath, relaxing after a second and glancing at the men standing in front of them

"Just... a promise must be made that you will not harm them."

"I apologize, but given the circumstances, I cannot promise that; as I said, many people depend on that flag, and the act of burning it down is not only an act against me but of my allies."

"You will understand when you see them; you will also want to avoid violence."

"As I said, I cannot promise anything."

"Just follow me," they sighed, only to be stopped by the sniper as he extended his hands toward them

"We will hold onto that," he said, gesturing to their staff

"Absolutely not!" they growled, holding the staff away from him

"It wasn't a request," Shanks spoke as he approached the two

"We are giving you the benefit of the doubt and not treating you as the culprit of this, but we cannot leave you armed."

"There better not be a single splinter out of place when I get it back," they growl, shoving the staff on Yassop's awaiting hands, who just throws her a grin

"If you do get it back."

"Yo-

"Let's go." Shanks orders, grabbing them by the forearm and pulling them forward as they made their way farther from the village

"Why do you live so far from the village?" Hongo questioned after they had made their way closer to a cottage set apart from the rest of the village

"That's hardly any of your business," they mutter as they unlock the front door once Shanks released his grip on them

"Normally, I would say get comfortable, but I really don't ca-

Their words are promptly interrupted as crashing sounds echoe above them, a scowl growing on their face as the sounds continued

“What is that?” Questioned Limejuice

“That,” they began kicking a nearby bean chair forward

“Is the sound of me being wrong” they finished watching as a child fell seemingly out of nowhere and into the Bean chair

“Han,” they called with a frown on their face

“Hi…” she greeted, a nervous smile on her face

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything…”

“Don’t give me that,” they growled, pinching the child’s cheek

“Here I thought Holl was behind this, but it was you, wasn’t it?

“Ow! That hurts! Listen, I just wanted to practice. How was I supposed to know that it would fire like that?! Everyone started freaking out, so I started freaking out, and I ran!” She cried

They glare at her for a moment longer before they let out a sigh and ruffled her head

“Just tell me next time, yeah? I don’t mind teaching you a few spells; no need to steal my things and sneak out.”

She gives them a nod as she nervously glance at the pirates, who by now had stood and watched the exchange in silence

“Are they going to hurt me?” She whispers

“No, don’t worry about a thing. Your big sibling has this, okay? Can you go prepare Holl something to eat? I'm sure they are hungry.”

They watch the girl nod and scamper

“Well, looks like I am guilty after all,” they sigh

“Our problem is with the kid; she burned the flag; she is the one we have business with.”

“No, your business is with me. That child is under my care, so any kind of retaliation you have to make against the burning of a piece of cloth is done against me, not him.”

Shanks's eyes narrow at their words, the frown on his face growing deeper

“Oi, oi, piece of cloth?!” One of the officers growled

“Is that not what it is? Despite what it stands for, at the end of the day, it is a piece of cloth that just happened to be destroyed under the hands of a child.”

“Yo-

“Dokucha!!” The pirate’s response is quickly cut off as a new voice cuts in as they barge the way into the small cottage

“Dokucha! It’s Holl!”

“What happened?”

“They had another accident; we need your help; they are in a really bad state,” the young man pants out his breaths ragged due to what they could assume was a run all the way to the cottage

Dokucha’s eyes widen at the news

“Han! Come here! We need to go now!” They called As they make a move to follow the man out, only to be stopped by a scabbard; following it Dokucha finds the sheath to be from the Captain

“What the hell are you doing?! Move!” they cried, pushing against the weapon, surprised to find that they could not move it despite it being held by a single hand.

“This matter has not been resolved; the burning of the flag is not something I will take lightly.”

“We can resolve this once I ensure my siblings are alive and well!”

“Then we will go as well; I will not take the chance of you leaving without your comeuppance for what has happened here.”

“I can only transport myself and another person,” they said, gesturing to Little Han at their side

“Walking will take far too long. I‘m telling you, I just want to help my sibling. Once their safety is assured, then I will return. You have my word.”

“Your word hardly means anything to me.”

“Please,” they begged

Shanks watched as they lowered themselves to the ground in a kneel as they begged; the person who was making but a mockery of the flag and the meaning behind it mere seconds ago was now at his feet

“I am begging you, Red hair. My word might not mean anything, but it is all I have; allow me to save my sibling, and then I will return and receive any punishment you deem equal to the destruction of the flag. Just please let me go save them.”

Shanks remains quiet until he extends the staff to them

“She stays; one of my men will go with you instead,” he finally decides

“Tha-

“That is as far as I will go,” he said, interrupting what surely was an attempt to refuse

“Dokucha, it’s okay, I ‘ll stay,” Han speaks as she broke apart from them, taking a step back and closer to the Captain

“It’s my fault this is happening, so please let me do this.”

Dokucha stares at the girl with a frown on their face as they finally make a decision, turning toward her

“I‘ll be back okay? Everything will be okay,” they promise

“I know everything will be okay, because you are here.”

“Hongo, go with them,” Shanks calls

“Aye, Boss”

Shanks holds onto the staff tighter as they make a move to grab it

“Don’t do anything both of us will regret,” he warned as he released his grip, watching as they bowed their head and made their way out, watching as both them and his doctor disappeared before them

Sooo Hi guys 🙊

Yall its been so long I lowkey forgot I formatted these pieces

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[peachyfnaf]

sun and moon show tumblr dashboard simulator. because i find these hilarious and this fandom needs one. assume this takes place in a "bad shit happens, but everyone's still on speaking terms" au for it to make the most sense kfjhsfd

0 notes

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

when the nightmare goes so hard when you wake up you have to walk into the ocean just to make sure

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

Lunar, are you okay..?

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

guess

22 notes

👤 sunsthirdfingerjoint Follow

ok but the creator is kind of a dilf tho

🦙 TSAJSwillprevail Follow

he's killed hundreds

👤sunsthirdfingerjoint Follow

is a man not allowed to be a manic pixie dream girl in this day and age

🛸 moonenjoyer9315 Follow

guys are we just ignoring op's url

536 notes

☣️ mellorinefuega Follow

coming across montgomery gator in the wild is crazy. like i was just trying to make a deposit at the bank one time and he came up behind me and punched the teller in the face

🐩 hottodoggors Follow

op my girlfriend went thru a similar experience a few months ago. this dude sounds like a menace, fr. so happy hes not near me.

🐊 trustmewithyourinformation Follow

182.62.250.90

🐩 hottodoggors Follow

is that my fukcign ip address

1,102 notes

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

This is a gentle reminder that everything will be okay, you just have to give it time!!!

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

im seriously at my limit

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

Just give it time, everyone!!!

🔧 applejackenjoyer Follow

earth are you okay

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

guess

🌑 twilightsparkleno1fan Follow

🔧 applejackenjoyer Follow

nexus NO

179 notes

🪔 cloudandloud Follow

eclipse v2 and nexus are one in the same. hit post. and go to bed

🪔 cloudandloud Follow

i just woke up. ive never been this scared to look at notes in my life

979 notes

💡 ballogmore Follow

i love going to the pizzaplex with my little sister bc she's there for the glamrocks. i'm there to see if i can get my hands on that twinky little jester

🔋 buttonsandbatterypacks Follow

Which twinky little jester op

💡 ballogmore Follow

the daycare attendant model??? whomst the fuck else?????

🔋 buttonsandbatterypacks Follow

You'd be surprised how little that narrows it down, actually

34,343 notes

🧛🏿‍♀️ horseonabeach-man Follow

🗡️ leavethatlittleguyalone Follow

bro what did v2 do to you

🧛🏿‍♀️ horseonabeach-man Follow

exist

557 notes

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

every day i try to not let my brother rob a bank, and then every day he provides me good reasons as to why i should let him

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

sun do yuo know what you could do with the money

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

i dont want to know, moon

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

do you need a getaway diver

52 notes

🌊 themagicwawa Follow

"sun is so cute!! solar's such a dilf. nexus being insane is so ho-"

absolutely none of you can handle what i have to say about him

99 notes

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

god help me, hes so fine

🏝 chronicappleeater-deactiaved062324

yeah, him and all 5 pixels

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

i see god smited you for this one

😈 itsme-fromthebible

wrong deity, but appreciate it regardless

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

THE DEVIL FROM THE BIBLE??!?!

823,383 notes

🦌 dailydazzledeer Follow

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

if anything happens to this blog i genuinely hope taurus destroys the planet

55,932 notes

🦫 elchipichipichapachapa Follow

it's taken months, but i've finally finished it. the document explaining everything wrong with the sun and moon show

here's the link. enjoy

732 notes

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

every time one of us makes them mad, moon and nexus get closer to becoming the Hitachiin twins from ohshc to retaliate, and i fear the day they decide to just do it

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

even the thought of doing that is stupid

🌑 twilightsparkleno1fan Follow

even the thought of doing that is stupid

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

HOW DID YOU BOTH REBLOG AT THE EXACT SAME TIME THIS POST HAS BEEN UP FOR 4 MINUTES

18 notes

🟦 woobificationofthesillies Follow

"we need more evil women in the world!!!" you people cant even handle miku

932,382 notes

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

starting a conspiracy theory that we're all just puppets in a youtube show's script and that's why our lives are so miserable

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

hey guys why was i shadowbanned after posting this

8 notes

[crushmeeren]

Crowley/Fem Reader/Aziraphale

Warnings; Bottom! Crowley, Top! Aziraphale, my version of Soft Dom! Reader, Anal Sex, Rimming, Vaginal Sex, Female Anatomy/Pronouns, Reader does wear a strap on!

Note; I wrote this entire thing as a request and I FUCKING FORGOT TO MAKE THE READER A DEMON, IM SORRY REQUESTOR 😭 I hope you and everyone else still enjoy 🥲

AO3 Link; Escapades🪽

Word Count; 6.2k

It always starts the same way. Crowley stumbles upon a new sexual escapade he wants the three of you to experience in the bedroom. Then the sneaky bastard riles up you and Aziraphale, way too easily if you’re being honest, and then three of you end up tumbling into the bedroom. You’re learning, way too late into the evening, that Crowley had been made aware of what pegging is. The red headed demon absolutely got more than a little drunk with Nina and Maggie last night, and consequently ended up with more details of their sex life than he wanted.

The only part he couldn’t shake off, was when they mentioned the pegging, and how mind blowing the experience can be. They talked about how ridiculously hot it can be, not to mention how good it feels, having your female partner, who doesn’t naturally have a dick, fuck you with more or less a cock of their own.

As soon as the the images flashed behind his eyes, he felt his cheeks burn. He took a sip of his scotch and he felt warmth spread through his belly pleasurably. He knows it’s not from the alcohol and for fucks sake, he just couldn’t resist being interested, the idea stuck to his brain like glue. It stayed with him the entire night. He, with extreme difficulty, was able to keep himself from getting rock hard that night. The thought of your smaller frame underneath him threatening to send blood rushing south.

That would’ve been too embarrassing if he spontaneously had to leave his impromptu drinking session with the girls because he couldn’t get his boner to go away. Truthfully, he had thought about being fucked by you often. Thinking about getting railed by you made his dick throb involuntarily. He knows the Angel wants it as well. He and Aziraphale had spoken about it, in great detail, before. He’d even had the Angel wrap a hand around his cock, whisper sweet nothings into his ear about you fucking him until he’d cum so hard his sticky release had hit him in the face.

Surprisingly enough, the two of them had never heard of or come across pegging before, leading them to believe it was never going to be an option. The fact that it was, is the reason Crowley showed up eagerly late the next day at the bookshop with a fucking strap on in his hands. You attempt to burn holes in his skull as your gaze flickers between the item in his hand and his smug looking face. Your eye twitches.

“Pegging?” you ask in disbelief, eyebrow raised as you cross your arms and push out one of your hips. Warmth pools in your belly at the mention of it, it’s not like you haven’t thought about it before. They had never brought it up so you just assumed they weren’t interested in that. You can see you were clearly wrong.

The three of you are in the bookshop, Aziraphale at his desk, reading glasses on the bridge of his nose as he looks over one of his books about “the art of prestidigitation”, as he likes to call it. Once he saw what the demon was holding he immediately turned back to his desk and started to try extremely hard to pointedly not listen to the conversation that you and Crowley began having. He ignored the way his cheeks burned, and the butterflies that filled his belly when Crowley started talking.

“Yes love, ever heard of it?” Crowley replies in a teasing tone of voice, smirking as he takes his black glasses off, setting them down on a nearby surface. He turns to face you again, stretching out his arm to wiggle the strap on at you, fake dick and all bobbing about in the wind. You roll your eyes at him, before narrowing your gaze. Sometimes you can’t believe the blunt audacity Crowley has, but when he gets these ideas it usually works out in the end so you haven’t turned him down yet. Laughing incredulously, you tilt your head and you reply with just as much attitude.

“Yes, I’ve heard of it, I’m just surprised you haven’t, I didn’t realize you had that little experience Crowley.” Uncrossing your arms you place them on your hips. You smile with fake innocence and make eye contact with him. You see his smirk grow even wider as he tilts his head back in amused laughter. Eyes coming to rest on your face, Crowley steps closer to you, getting into your space and looking down at you.

You can feel some of the heat radiating from him and you resist the urge to blush. You stare up at him, not backing down. The demon wraps his warm, slim fingers around your hip, slipping his thumb under your shirt, softly rubbing the skin over the bone there. You bite your lip to hold back a soft moan and the air between the two of you starts to thicken like warm honey. Crowley trails a finger softly down your neck. A shiver runs down your spine as he leans closer, lips softly brushing your cheek before he whispers in your ear. The bastard knows what he’s doing and you fall for it every time.

“Well then, I suppose I’m gonna need you to show me what it means to get fucked hmm? My pretty goddess,” he coos, voice smooth and low as he kisses your earlobe, then he moves to press a kiss into the sensitive skin of your neck. The feeling of his breath tickling your skin as he mouths at your throat makes your body flush, warm arousal instantly shooting to your belly. You almost forgot the Angel was here when you and Crowley hear the sound of a page ripping and Aziraphale cursing softly in the background.

——————————————————

As you expected, Crowley is the most eager to get pegged first. The idea has been rolling around in his brain the most lately and he’s aching for it. Furthermore he’s a little shit who always gets what he wants. So Aziraphale, living up to his title as Angel once again, caves easily to the demons request. He really can’t say no to his pretty face. Crowley promises him he’ll reward him in return, whispering sweetly to him and kissing his cheeks as the two climb onto the bed.

You had decided to leave that decision up to the two of them, knowing nobody is going to get left out either way. Aziraphale really doesn’t mind, he knows no matter what he’s going to feel good. Whether it’s watching you and Crowley put on a show for him or he’s actively participating, he’s just so happy to be a part of it.

After you’ve flipped off the overhead light, you turn on a lamp in corner of the room. It glows a comforting soft yellow and makes the space feel much more intimate. Despite the soothing light, you unfortunately spent about 10 irritating minutes cursing and figuring out how to get the damn strap on hooked to your hips and under your thighs correctly. You walk over to stand at the end of the bed, near the edge as you finish securing it in place.

Aziraphale and Crowley are on the bed, completely bare as they kiss eagerly in front of you. You hum softly in approval as you listen to the slick sound of their lips meeting over and over. They are both raised up on their knees, facing each other, giving you a pretty picture of their side profiles as they make out. Aziraphale is holding Crowleys waist and in turn Crowley wraps his arms around the Angels neck. He plays with the soft white curls at the nape of Aziraphales neck and the Angel tugs Crowley closer into his chest by his hips.

You feel your pussy getting slick and it throbs beneath the strap on. Your teeth dig into the sensitive skin of your bottom lip. Gods, they just look so fucking hot together. They are your wet dream and you let your eyes trail up and down their bodies, noticing both of their flushed, hard cocks rubbing together with every tiny movement they make. The tips of their cocks shiny with precum as they continue to lightly thrust against each other. You have the urge to reach out and wrap one hand around both of them, feeling the warm, silky skin and jerking them off together. You file that thought away and save it for later.

You hear a soft groan, which you recognize comes from the demon and your eyes snap upwards to see he’s already looking at you. His yellow eyes watching you intensely. You realize he was trying to get your attention and you raise an eyebrow at him. He keeps eye contact with you and he smiles into the kiss with Aziraphale. Crowley makes sure you can see his forked tongue as he slips it into the Angels mouth, making Aziraphale gasp softly and open up easily for him.

Your pussy clenches around air and your fingers dig into your palm as you see their tongues roll together. Crowley turns his attention back to his heated kiss with the Angel, closing his eyes again. You notice Aziraphales cheeks are a pretty pink as they start to really get into it, Aziraphale digging his nails into the demons skin. They lean into each other and you see Crowleys hand start to trail down Aziraphales chest. He drags his nails over the Angels stomach, making a move to reach for the Angels cock.

“No,” you order him, quite casually, and his hand stops in its place. Crowley whines into Aziraphales mouth and breaks away from the kiss. The Angel pants and leans forward as if he’s chasing the demons lips. Turning his head to look at you, bottom lip sticking out, Crowley keeps his other hand perched on the Angels shoulder as his chest heaves. They both have a pretty flush and Aziraphale decides to rest his forehead against Crowleys shoulder.

“You’re no fun darling,” Crowley pouts, trying to give you wide, puppy eyes.

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” you say sarcastically, fake gasping and bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. Crowley narrows his eyes playfully and sticks his tongue out at you. He pushes back from the Angels grip and Aziraphale sits back on his calves, hands continuing to rest gently on Crowleys lean waist. You get a sense that the demon is actively trying to push you as Crowleys cock twitches when he makes a show of running his hand down his chest, inching closer to his own dick. You know he’s definitely testing your patience on purpose, but you keep your face neutral when you speak. He knows you’re the one in charge here and you won’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see the flash of agitation that courses through you.

“Crowley,” you say warningly, voice low as you keep your eyes on his face. He freezes the movement of his hand and reluctantly rests both hands on Aziraphales shoulders. Crowleys behavior isn’t unusual though, as he usually tries to see how much he can tip toe the line before you punish him and it’s clear he just wants to act like a brat tonight. You sniff once and decide to ignore him, knowing it’ll piss him off. You look at Aziraphale, who gives you a sweet smile, letting his palms rest on the tops of his thighs now. You return the smile, feeling your love for the Angel blossom warmly in your chest. He’s such a good boy for you.

“Angel, you’ve been so good, you can relax for a moment, why don’t you come here and sit next to me,” you purr, praising him. He blushes and you see his pretty pink cock kick at your sweet praise. He eagerly nods his head and starts to move away from Crowley, who makes a noise of protest in response.

“Yes my love,” he replies obediently, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, close to you, with his feet on the floor. He leans his weight back on his hands as he angles his body slightly toward you. His cock leans against his lower belly, drooling slightly and he obeys the unspoken rule of not touching himself.

You reach over to run your fingers through the Angels soft hair once affectionately. You get a soft hum in return. Focusing back on Crowley you move your fingers in a come hither motion, waiting for Crowley to obey you. Surprisingly he does so without protest, crawling forward on his knees and then sitting on his haunches in front of you. You glance at Aziraphale, making sure he’s watching. You know it turns the Angel on, he loves to witness you be more dominant, especially when it’s directed at the demon. Your eyes meet his pretty blue ones and you wink at him, smiling cheekily. The Angel feels a thrill tingle down his spine.

You turn your gaze back to Crowley, who seems to be annoyed he didn’t have your undivided attention. You giggle at his expression, which makes his cheeks turn red. His pretty lips tug into a scowl. You smile, not kindly, and bring your hand up, wrapping your fingers around his jaw tightly, forcing his head straight to look into your eyes. Your fingers press into his warm skin and his snake like eyes widen a bit, tracking back and forth. You make a tsk sound and shake your head softly in disappointment. He watches you, his eyes half lidded. You bend closer, getting into his face and you whisper menacingly, eyes sharp.

“If you try to break my rules again Crowley, I’m gonna have our Angel finger you open and then I’m gonna fuck him instead and make you watch from the side. I’ll tie your hands behind your back if I have too,” you growl, squeezing his jaw tightly as you lean back. Crowley stares at you, unblinking, unable to let his mouth fall open due to your tight grip. Your words sent heat blazing down his spine and straight to his cock. You hear Aziraphales soft groan from your left and you look over at him, admiring the way his hands clench the sheets beneath his fingers, knuckles white. His chest is pink now as well and you can see his dick jump occasionally as he watches you and Crowley. You smirk and look back at Crowley when he whines in his throat.

“Do you hear me?” you ask firmly, raising an eyebrow. Crowley nods the best he can. “Say it,” you demand, dropping your grip on his jaw.

“Y-yes I understand my love,” he chokes out, chewing on his bottom lip. You nod once in approval. Moving away from them both, you slip around to the side of the bed, getting up and crawling to lay down near the headboard. The two of them have turned to watch you, eyes lustful as they watch you lay your head on one of the pillows. You bend your legs and plant your feet, digging your toes into the soft sheets below. Raising up on your elbows, you give the others a pointed look, seeing as they both have remained silent.

“Well? Come here my pretty little demon, sit in my lap,” you purr, fingers coming up to motion him forward. Crowley wastes no time and crawls up the bed toward you, looking excited at what’s to come. He gets between your legs and slips through, a leg on each side of your hips as he sits down. The movement causes his hard, overly heated cock to make contact with the cool material of the strap on and he jolts a little, rubbing his cock further against yours and he cries out. Your hands shoot out to grip his waist, keeping him still and he shifts his weight, getting used to the feeling. Once you’ve got him steady you decide it’s time to get your Angel involved.

“Angel,” you call out, “do you mind coming up here and stretching open our bratty demon please? I’ll give you a treat afterwards,” Smirking, you run your thumbs over Crowleys hip bones and he moans lowly. You hear Aziraphale giggle happily.

“Of course dear, you know I love getting him ready,” he teases. You hear the sheets rustle as he comes up behind Crowley, hearing the sharp cracking sound of skin on skin as the demon yelps and you giggle. Crowley scowls at you as Aziraphale bends him over, forcing the demon to place a hand on either side of your head to balance his weight and expose his pretty arse. You frame his face with your hands, thumbs running over his cheeks.

“What’s wrong you naughty little demon? I thought you liked getting spanked,” you tease, grinning cheekily. His frown deepens and he pokes your cheek.

“Don’t be mean doll,” he says, letting his head hang between his shoulders as he lets out a low groan. You can’t see what’s going on but you know Azirphale must’ve started fingering him. You remember the feel of having your fingers sucked into Crowleys tight, slick heat and your pussy aches to be filled. You try to ignore the sensation and your lips pull into an amused smile as you hear the little choked moans Crowley lets out as his arse is stretched open by the Angels thick fingers. You’re no stranger to the feeling and you know Crowleys on cloud 9.

“How many fingers has he taken Angel?” you ask curiously after a moment, letting go of the demons face and running your fingers through Crowleys soft red hair as he lets his weight relax onto your chest, forehead on the mattress right next to your head, arse propped up into the air. The slick tip of Crowleys cock leaves a sticky kiss on your lower belly when he shifts his weight. You shiver lightly as you feel what must be Aziraphales free hand, smoothly tickling his fingers up your inner thigh, wanting to touch you too. You moan gently at his touch.

“He’s already taken two, seems as if our dearest was eager for this,” he teases, with a sweet laugh as he presses his fingers inside of Crowley again, making the demon jolt forward. His arms instantly snake under your head and around your neck as he buries his face into your neck.

“Ah!” he cries out, thrusting his hips forward, accidentally rubbing the tip of his flushed cock against yours again, which makes him curse loudly. You grit your teeth because by this point, listening to them both, feeling Crowley writhe around as he’s finger fucked, you’re so unbelievably turned on, so wet you can feel it trail from your pussy down to your arse. The ache for one of them to fill you is so strong. Your cheeks burn, but you have enough self control and a plan to get through this. You know one of them is going to be fucking you at the end. So, trying to shove your own arousal down your throat, you continue to shower Crowley with filthy, sweet nothings as he gets stretched open.

“Oh my you cheeky little pup, is the Angel making your sweet arse feel so good? Hmm pretty baby?” you coo to Crowley, wrapping your arms around his upper back to keep him in place with his arse in the air. Crowley always loves any sort of dirty talk that flows from your mouth.

“Oh fuck! Yes, yes so good, shit, please love, want you inside of me, I want to ride you,” he pants, moaning against your neck, his breath heating your skin. He writhes in your hold and tightens his arms around your neck, letting out a whimper. You hum in acknowledgment, deciding to check in with Aziraphale, if nothing else but to annoy the demon further.

“Is he ready Angel?” you ask casually, running your hand up and down Crowleys upper back. You see Aziraphales adoring smile as you look over Crowleys shoulder and the Angel nods quickly.

“Yes dear, our old boy is definitely ready, he’s being such a good boy and taking all of what I give him,” Aziraphale praises, running his free hand soothingly over Crowleys lower back. The demon just moans in response, teeth digging in slightly at the base of your neck. You feel another heady pulse of arousal in your pussy at the sharp sting of his teeth and you bite your lower lip hard enough you think it might split. Letting out a breath of air steadily through your nose you reply, letting him know just what you had in mind for him.

“Good job Angel, I told you I wouldn’t leave you out yeah? I want you to sit on my face and let me eat your sweet arse while Crowley rides me okay?” you say, voice gentle but with no room for argument. You know Aziraphale gets shy admitting it but he loves sitting on your face and letting you lick at his hole until he cums hard, hips moving wildly. You fucking love it and you usually save it for times like this. Getting crushed under the Angels soft, thick thighs, you’d die happily. You hear the choked out moan that leaves lips as he slips his fingers free from Crowley and crawls out from behind the demon, who did let out a groan at the feeling of loss.

“Yes love, whatever you say,” he says easily, trying to keep his voice casual as he maneuvers himself until he’s sitting next your head on his haunches. You laugh, amused.

“Shit, that’s gonna make me cum so fast if I’m watching you eat his arse and riding you,” Crowley whimpers, complaining into your skin. You grin wickedly and unwind your arms from his shoulders. You push at his chest, getting him unstick himself from you and sit up in your lap.

“Well that’s good because I’m not letting you touch your cock this time, you wanted this so bad? Well you’re gonna work for it,” you tell him, running your hands over his slender thighs. His lips turn downward into a pout but he doesn’t argue, not so secretly loving being bossed around by you. You hear Aziraphale chuckle gently from beside you.

“Okay my little love, can we please get on with it?” Crowley says, wiggling his hips impatiently. He’s still hard and his cock bobs with his movements. Your pink tongue darts out to run it over you lips and you pat the sides of his hips, urging him to raise up. He raises to his knees but you think this would probably start out better if he got onto his feet.

“Crowley, love, I want you to get into a squatting position to ride me, it’ll be better that way,” you say, watching his eyebrows raise.

“Are you bloody serious? That’s gonna be so much harder!” he whines. You just stare at him, letting him know it’s an order not a suggestion. He purses his lips and dramatically moves into position. Planting his feet and leaning forward to brace his hands gently on your chest, squeezing your breasts.

“Don’t be such a brat, you know I’ll help you if you need it sweet thing,” you coo, smirking up at him. You bring your hand down to grip the base of your cock, wrapping your fingers around it and bracing it upwards, running the tip of it over Crowleys still very slick hole and you watch his eyes flutter as he moans and starts to sink downwards.

“Fine, fine, just don’t tease,” he pants, tilting his head down to watch you start to stretch his arse and disappear inside of him. You bring your free hand to his hip and tilt them towards you by an inch and just like that the head pops in, past his rim. He lets out a choked out sound, hands gripping your breasts tightly. You bite the tip of your tongue and let go of your cock while he seats himself fully, letting your cock stretch his sensitive rim completely. You let your hands rest on the sheets as you study him.

You’re letting Crowley adjust to your cock filling his arse for a second when you hear a soft whine come from your right side. You turn your head to see Aziraphale still sitting on his calves, clenching his hands into fists where they rest on his thighs, face bright red. You see his cock twitch a couple times, coming back to slap softly against his belly. You can tell how worked up he is by now. You know it won’t take too much to push him over the edge. He must be on the edge of bursting from not touching himself all this time. He’s such a good Angel for listening and you definitely didn’t forget about him.

“Oh don’t worry my sweet, I didn’t forget about you, I’m gonna let you sit on my face soon okay? I’m just letting our princess here get adjusted, you’re being such a good Angel for me,” you say soothingly, reaching a hand out rub his thigh.

“I know my love, it’s just so enchanting watching the way Crowley rides you,” he says, brushing hair off your forehead. You smile smugly.

“Well enjoy the show then Angel,” you tease and turn back to face Crowley, who seems to have his bearings about him again. You slip your hands under his arse, gripping his flesh, and press upwards, biceps flexing as he raises up. He uses his thighs and feet to balance as he starts to ride you with your help. He lets go of your breasts and braces his hands on his knees, using them as leverage as he starts to bounce. As you help him get into a rhythm you feel your own arousal hit you like a freight train again. You watch where your cock slides into Crowley, filling him over and over while his mouth hangs open. His eyes are shut and he looks so fucking sexy bouncing on your cock.

“Fuck Crowley,” you breathe, “you look absolutely unbelievable. Does it feel good sweet thing?” you purr, voice soft as your arms start to ache a bit from helping him move. He opens his eyes to look at you, letting out a whine. He feels his legs start to burn a little bit, but the angle is fucking amazing and he’s able to hit that spot that makes his entire body shake, pleasure shooting through his limbs like electricity every time. It easily makes him feel like he’s gonna cum in no time at all.

“Shit! Ah, fuck, yes it feels so so good darling,” he babbles as he jolts harshly. You think he must’ve been hitting his sweet spot. Thinking you can probably let him keep up the pace on his own now, you take your hands out from under him. Looking over to Aziraphale he seems to be entranced watching the demon ride you.

“Aziraphale, sit on my face lovely,” you say softly, snapping him out of it. He looks down at you and nods eagerly. “Kiss me first though Angel,” you request, smiling coyly.

“Yes, okay, I’m so ready dear,” he says, voice bright as he bends down, pressing his soft lips to yours firmly. You moan into his mouth as he rolls his lips firmly against yours a few times. You bite his bottom lip sharply and turn your head, breaking the kiss. You wink at him in approval and he takes that as his cue to raise to his knees, shuffling closer and throwing a leg over your head. He’s facing Crowley as he hovers over your mouth, making heated eye contact with the demon, noticing Crowley was watching the two of you kiss as he kept a steady rhythm bouncing on your cock.

You see the Angels thick arse above you and your tongue runs over your bottom lip. For now you resist the urge to bite roughly into his fleshy arse. Wanting to move on you shift your weight and raise your head up to press a soft kiss on Aziraphales arse cheek. You hear the Angel moan lowly. Before you pull the Angel down to devour him, you speak to Crowley once more.

“Crowley my love, you can ride me however you like, but don’t touch yourself, you’re cumming untouched, is that clear?” you say, voice steady and strong. You hear him whine, but he must agree because you feel him sit down fully. He maneuvers his legs until he’s on his knees again. Crowely starts to roll his hips back and forth in your lap, groaning when your cock presses firmly against his sweet spot. You think that’s good enough, not having the patience to make the demon speak. You snake one arm under the Angel and wrap it around Aziraphales thigh. You use the other hand to spank his arse sharply, digging your nails in there and spreading him open. It allows you to see his pretty pink hole. You hear a soft gasp from the Angel as you blow cool air over his heated flesh, feeling goosebumps erupt under the fingers on his thigh.

“Oh- doll, please,” Aziraphale whines. You take mercy on him and pull on his thigh, forcing him to sit and make contact with your mouth. He cries out loudly when he feels your wet, warm tongue swipe over his hole, he digs his fingers into his thighs. You let go of his arse cheek and wrap both arms around his thighs, holding him close as you start to run your tongue up and down over his warm hole, massaging the swirl of skin with your tongue, getting him wet. You feel his thighs tense next to your head.

You start a steady pace with your mouth, licking firmly and dipping the tip of your tongue shallowly in his hole a few times. When you take a moment to suck on the soft skin with your lips it sounds like someone ripped the sounds from the Angels chest. Aziraphales letting out sharp ah sounds with every movement of your tongue, panting hard. You feel Crowley start to bounce again, he must’ve been watching before but he’s moving quickly now. The way his thighs smack against your pelvis has your insides twisting with want. You hear the little whines spilling from his mouth. Aziraphale starts to wail when you press your tongue deeper into his hole, wiggling the warm muscle in as much as you can. You moan against him and he feels the vibrations in his cock.

“Oh! Hah, love-ah! Your mouth, it feels so amazing, I may not last much longer,” Aziraphale whines, rocking his hips. You feel a bit surprised he’s already this close to cumming but you do think about how he hasn’t been able to touch himself this entire time. Fingering Crowley open and then watching him ride you. He must’ve been really close to the edge already. You pull him tighter and really get to work, jaw aching from the effort.

“Already Angel?” Crowley pants, teasing him slightly. Crowley leans forward to brace his hands on the bed by your chest. Aziraphale laughs breathlessly as he rolls his hips back and forth over your mouth, holding onto his thighs for balance.

“You’re one to talk dear, you already look like you’re going to combust,” he cuts off with a groan. Aziraphale can feel the tightening sensation in his belly, cock drooling and jumping as your pretty mouth licks firm stripes against his hole again and again. Crowley isn’t any better, his thighs ache but he won’t have to do much more to make himself cum. Riding you, watching you eat the Angels arse, it’s all too much. Crowley burns, skin sticky with sweat and his limbs tingle pleasurably as the demon climbs the sweet peak of his orgasm.

You take the chance to move a hand from the Angels thigh to wrap around the middle of his shaft. You start to pump your hand quickly, sucking harshly on the soft skin of his hole. The Angels eyes widen, breath catching his chest as his heart hammers, so close to cumming. The next soft lick of your tongue makes Aziraphale still, he throws his head back, his voice loud enough to reach the heavens as he wails, thighs clenching around your head. He’s cumming hard, limbs filling with molten lava as his cock throbs in your hand and he covers it with his sticky release.

“Angel! Oh for fucks sake, that’s not fucking fair,” Crowley gasps, unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. The demons eyes trained on the way Aziraphales face twists in pleasure, his cheeks flushed and his cum all over your hand. He fucks himself back on your cock, two, three more times before he’s sitting down fully, eyes squeezing shut as he rolls his hips. His dick kicks, cum spurting out all over your belly.

“That’s it Crowley, good job dear boy,” Aziraphale purrs, letting you slowly pump his shaft as he gets over sensitive. Feeling your tongue flick slowly over his hole, he groans in his throat. You let go of his cock, patting his thigh twice and the Angel slips off your face to lay on the bed beside you, trying to recover. The Angel must’ve miracled the mess away because you no longer find yourself covered in their releases.

You wipe your saliva covered mouth with the back of your hand, tilting your head up to look at Crowley, who’s still sitting fully in your lap. Hands still braced on either side of you. He’s breathing heavily, chest flushed. You hum happily, seeing both of your boys have been satisfied.

“Look at you Crowley, you were so good, making yourself cum on my cock,” you praise him. He laughs softly, but winces as he raises himself off of your cock, flopping down on your right side. You start to feel where the material of the straps has been digging into your skin and you undo them, pulling them out from under you and taking the strap on off. You sigh in relief and lean up to toss it off to the side, before laying flat.

“Feeling okay my loves?” you ask lovingly, resting a hand on each of their chests. Twin sounds of agreement reach you ears. You’re feeling very content with the evening. Of course, you had hoped one of them would have enough energy to slip inside of you afterwards and make you cum so hard you saw stars, but you knew it didn’t always happen when you wore them out. Really you don’t mind having to take care of yourself sometimes. You let them rest, listening to the sounds of their breathing and take your hand off of the Angels chest to trail it down your belly aiming to touch your clit.

It shocks you when a hand grips your wrist stopping you, it was Aziraphales. You turn to look at him, eyes slightly wide. He raises an eyebrow and smiles shyly.

“I don’t think so my love, let me return the favor,” he says sweetly, letting go of your wrist and sitting up to move around and get in between your thighs. You hear Crowley chuckle from your other side and you look at him as you feel Aziraphale scoot even closer, rubbing his once again hard cock through your slick folds. You shiver and let out a groan.

“We wouldn’t leave you unsatisfied love, especially not after taking care of us so well,” he purrs, smirking and propping himself up on an elbow to watch. You feel Aziraphale guide his cock into your aching pussy, stretching you deliciously as he bottoms out in one thrust. It sends warm waves of pleasure through all your limbs. This feeling is what you’ve been waiting for all night and your back arches into the movement. You wail, letting your eyes flutter shut. The pleasure is unbelievable after waiting for so long, tingles dancing up your spine and warmth pooling quickly in your belly.

You pull the Angel down swiftly and dig your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his hips as he fucks into you fast and rough. He snakes his arms under your back and you let him pound you into the mattress. He makes you cum so hard your vision gets blurry. In the end he makes you cum at least three times. The other two finishing at least once more. Crowley jerking himself off from the side as he watches the Angel fuck you. The three of you end up in a pile under the covers on your shared bed, sleeping soundly. The next morning you wake up thinking that sly demon does have some truly great ideas.

[em-harlsnow]

the ages of shameless characters does nothing but drive me crazy, so I'm activating some detective skills to figure them out throughout the seasons. also - im ignoring the years or times that the seasons came out, just going by what the show says.

First off: Mickey - bday is 10 August 1994

Season 1: 16, because...

he's not in it much, he doesn't speak much, but we know two things - he's a teenager and he's under 18 since he goes to juvie. He's in juvie for some part of three seasons, so I think it's safe to put him at 16.

Season 2: 16 for a bit, then 17, because....

it's now summer, and Mickey comes out of juvie. I think he turns 17 that summer, because when he goes back in, people are wearing coats more so I assume it's getting colder, so it's past august.

Season 3: 17 for half, 18 for the other half, because...

it's summer at the start, so Mickey's been in juvie for like 6/7 months. he's still 17, because he didn't go to prison at any point. by the time he marries Svetlana, I think he's 18. I don't know how old you have to be to get married in Illinois, but I'll say 18 because American laws confuse me more than anything else. either way, again, people are wearing warmer clothes around the time he marries her, so he must be 18.

Season 4: 18, because...

it's winter, the whole way through. There's no way it's the next year, since Ian is still underage according to Mickey (altho there's a possibility he meant under the drinking age of 21, but I don't think so). So Ian's been gone for a few months, maybe like 5 since it could be Jan/Feb and he must have left Autumn time. Therefore, Mickey's 18. The whole time. Summer hasn't come, so his birthday hasn't passed.

Season 5: 19, because....

it's summer for the first part. Late summer, since the last half is in wintery time based on everyone's coats. We can assume that Mickey has his birthday either between season 4 and 5 or right at the beginning of season 5. So maybe he's 18 for like 5 seconds. But for the majority and the end, he must be 19.

Season 6: 19/20, because...

he's only in it for one scene (diabolical). I can't tell what the season is really, because there aren't many coats being worn at the start, and then loads at the end. It seems unreasonable that a whole spring and summer have been skipped, doesn't it? although, maybe it's possible. There are also some days when it seems really hot and some where it looks cold, so I have no idea. I don't know what the weather's like in Chicago, sorry. So he's either 19 or 20 when we see him. Most likely 20. Either way, he went into prison when he was 19, unless the trial was really long and lasted from winter to august, which I doubt.

Season 7: 21 (when he appears), because...

we have two episodes (again, very sad). it starts in the summer based on the t-shirts without jackets everyone wears. by the time ep 10 and 11 hit, it's colder. it's hard to tell at the end, since they're at the border or approaching the border and the further south you go the hotter it gets, and it's very sunny when mickey goes across. If season 6 really is that winter and they skipped the summer (which now makes more sense), it's the following summer, going into autumn. so, august has probably passed by the time we see mickey. so he's 21 now.

Season 8: 21, 22 by the end (even tho we don't see him), because...

no mickey (rude). we can still assume his age based on the seasons and other characters. it's summer again! I'm guessing it's the year after?? since it looked like season 7 was approaching autumn? that also means Ian and Trevor were dating for around a year, and I didn't realise it was so long to be honest. anyway, if it's summer again, at some point throughout mickey turns 22 (alone, in Mexico).

Season 9: 23, because...

one scene with mickey! it's still summer, the same summer as before I think, because there's no way the Gay Jesus thing lasted a full year. it looks like it's a direct continuation from season 8. by the last ep, Ian is wearing a hat and an undershirt under the prison uniform, so it's autumn-y time. so, mickey's either already 23 when we see him, or about to turn 23. by the end, he's definitely 23.

Season 10: 23 at the start, 24 by the end, because...

it's summer when Ian comes out of prison. I'd put it at early summer, since Ian says it's been less than a year of being in prison. so at the start, mickey's still 23. by the wedding, it's 'supposed to snow', so I guess it's full on winter. so august is passed, mickey is 24, and finally had his bday when he's with Ian.

Season 11: 24 at the start, 25 at the end, because...

summer again at the start based on all the t-shirts. early summer, because by ep 10, mickey goes swimming or does something in the pool, because I'm not convinced he can swim, which you aren't gonna do in the autumn/winter, right? by the last ep, there are more coats, and it's their anniversary so it's 'supposed to snow', so it must be winter time. so he's 24 at the start, 25 at the end.

In conclusion, Mickey is way younger than he seems (im not talking about Noel, he looks the age he's meant to be, he just seems older). Also, Gallavich has been together for 9 years.

Let me know if you disagree with any of this, I think I'll do Ian next! I don't know if this was obvious to everyone else and I'm just slow, but this is gonna help me loads when I'm figuring out weather seasons and ages for fics lol.

Shameless needs to deal with its shitty timelines. It was much better at consistency in the earlier seasons.

[dizgreen]

HEY

HERE’S A FUN THEORY ABOUT METAPHOR THAT IM BASING ON ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BUT MY OWN OBSERVATIONS

I have no proof of this at all, but this is just something I think is fun

Warning spoilers for Metaphor: ReFantazio

I love this game don’t get me wrong, but I think we’re looking at a vastly different game than was originally written in concept. I also believe that a lot of what was cut was due to wanting to avoid any kind of LGBT theming from making it to the final product, in a fairly last minute kind of way that would indicate like two guys in the higher ups that didn’t want it and stood in front of everyone else to remove it.

First off, I think Junah and Rella were not originally adopted sisters. I believe they were lovers.

Now what we know about these two characters is that they’re adopted sisters who both went to the Magic Academy and refer to it as “the place of their fondest memories” with absolutely no elaboration on that. However them being adopted sisters makes no sense. Junah was a slave as a child and Rella was born into an VERY prominent noble family who are established to exclusively value political power over everything else, particularly through the church.

There’s no reason Rella’s family would adopt some random Nidia slave and then allow her to live her life however she wanted, it doesn’t benefit them in any way. Even as a performative act it wouldn’t make that much sense, since the church does not explicitly condemn slavery as a practice. If anything, it would make the church look bad if you did anything to publicly denounce it.

However, we DO know that the Mage Academy was founded by the King during his Utopia days, and that means it’s ENTIRELY reasonable to assume that entrance into the academy was free of any racial or class bias. Meaning that it’s WAY more likely these two met DURING their Academy days.

In fact, I personally like to think that what happened was the King came across Junah while she was singing in the field she was abandoned in and freed her, then brought her to the Academy himself. After all, as everyone in the game keeps telling us over and over, Music was the first form of Magic.

The king was also heavily involved in Archetype research, and it’s likely that it was through him that she learned about them. Heck, she might’ve even met Grius while she was there and that’s how she joined the resistance, since he’s also HEAVILY implied to have studied Archetype magic at the Mage Academy.

So, we have a timeline of them knowing each other when Rella was 12 years old and she attempted the assassination of The Prince. An act which she committed for Junah’s sake. However, Will is explicitly stated to be the youngest party member of the team at 18 years old. So assuming The Prince was about 10 or 11 at the time of being cursed, it’s much more likely that she was closer to 14 at the time, considering their age difference now. Then we have at least a few more years before Forden presumably raids the place and shuts it all down. So, assuming she WAS aged down for the sake of them being siblings, that has them having pretty much spent all their teen years together at the academy, from like 12 to 18 at least. That’s…roughly around the time puberty hits and people start realizing that their feelings might be more complex than a close friendship…

Most people tend to believe that The Mage Academy was a dungeon that was flat out cut from the game, and I’m wont to believe that, as well. In fact, I think that The Mage Academy dungeon was going to reveal all of this, and have Junah delving back into her history there, living alongside Rella and learning about Musical Magic. As well as what likely happened that forced them to split up. I think it was cut, partially for time, and partially because that aspect was so baked into the story of the dungeon that there was just no way to cut it out without leaving an unsatisfying half of a story dungeon.

We don’t have any canon homophobia coming from the church, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility that they were forced to break up due to it being a massive scandal for someone in Rella’s family.

I mean even without homophobic church doctrine (which is entirely likely considering how unabashedly evil the church is portrayed) we still have the prevailing hatred of interracial couples, which could have easily been just as much of a scandal.

Either way, again, I’m not really basing this on anything but wild speculation and fun headcanon. Still, just to see, go ahead and play through the game again, but this time remove the word “sister” from their dialogue and view their interactions as two girls that dated back in summer camp and were forced to break up due to one of them having a strict Christian family.

It weirdly works.

I mean Rella states that Junah is someone more important to her than even her own life, and Junah flat out says “I loved you” after Rella sacrifices herself.

Like siblings can be close, but…that’s not quite “very close adopted siblings” dialogue, to me.

But hey, that’s just a theory.

A GAAAAAME THEORYYYYY

A gay theory?

A gayme theory.

A GAAAAAAAAYYYYME THEEEEORYYYYYYYYYYYYY

[zirobitches]

One Piece: Soulmate AU

Always in this twilight - Crocodile x GN!Reader

Summary: Soulmates are incapable of hurting each other. As a pirate, this leads to some tragic moments midst battles. You thought you were prepared for when it might happen to you, but damn you were wrong.

Gn! Reader, Angst no comfort, no beta we die like Roger, Reader is Croc's First Mate and a former Roger pirate (Shanks/Buggy's age) but it doesnt really matter, also former slave background, congrats you are now in the place of my self insert OC, no promises on not being cringe this is literally a /reader fic, also had to make a fake crew bc we dont know enough crocs backstory HAND IT OVER ODA

Word count: 4500+

Also first fic on tumblr, idk what im doing here, lmk ur opinions. It is now 2:03am and i have class at 10:30. Might have to skip lmao

EDITS: grammar check lol. also cross posted it on ao3 - same name as my blog

-----------

Soulmates weren't as common as you'd might assume when you first hear about it. There's an easy way to prove someone is your soulmate, but when that method is to harm them, well, it doesn't make it easy to find that person. And society gets a bit weird when you know your soulmate is out there.

you've known that some people carry around little needles to poke into strangers hoping to find the one. But that was in decent society; among pirates you more often heard tales of bullets suddenly dropping to the ground after they hit their target, or swords stopping on someone's skin as though it just hit steel. A battlefield is a hell of a place to meet the person fate had decided for you, but for pirates it had become a norm.

Not that long ago, some genius named Vegapunk did a study on how many people meet their soulmate - 1 in a 100. And that's just how many people find them. It never accounts for how many actually happily end up together. You had chosen to live your life as a pirate, so a happy ending with your supposed soulmate wasn't something you foresaw in your future.

You were always grateful most of your current crew felt the same. There was a small group among pirates that were always on the lookout to find their soulmate and then immediately retire. Your crew however like to joke that if they found them in battle, they would move out of the way so someone else could finish them off. It was a grim reality, but it was your reality.

However, on nights like these where you drank the night away, some romantic always had to bring it up.

"C'mon, did old Roger really make you so cold hearted that you don't believe in true love?"

"Pfft, you're fucking joking right?" You scoffed back. You always argued with Tink about this, but you understood your young navigator still had hope. Too bad you were the pessimist of the crew.

"It's not that I don't believe in true love," you continued. "Soulmates are real, I don't really see another explanation for not being able to harm only one other person in the world. But why limit yourself to waiting for a person you might never meet? So many are denying themselves to fall in love with someone else and then end up dying alone because they never found their soulmate."

Tink pouted in front of you. This was a tired conversation, one that was repeated every few weeks much to the chagrin of your other crewmates. But a controversial topic was always a great topic for a group such as yourselves.

"I'm not denying myself the chance to fall in love! I'm denying ever feeling heartbroken over someone who doesn't matter!" Tink tried to argue back, but you just groaned in response.

"And if you never meet the one? You'll just live and die without ever letting yourself even get a taste of what it is you're chasing." Tink glared, knowing it was futile to keep going, but the pink of her cheeks told you that the grog in her system was trying to get her to keep fighting.

It was then that a familiar tall figure caught your eye. There was your beloved captain Crocodile, trying to sneak behind everyone's back to grab another bottle for himself.

Crocodile was never much one for festivities, at least not one 'undeserved' as he might put it. While there was no battle won to celebrate, the night sky was clear and the waters calm; in the Grand Line, shouldn't that be enough to be happy about?

However tonight you weren't going to let him sneak booze and hide from the crew.

"Cap'n!" Apparently the grog was getting to you as well. "Come over here and help me crush Tink's dream of a soulmate!" You laughed as Tink gasped at your audacity. The rest of your company seemed more or less happy with how the night was going, but your captain was still less than enthused to join.

"If this is the same soulmate debate you've been going on about for the past 3 years, I will pass again. You already know my feelings on the matter." Crocodile's deep voice reverberated across the deck of the ship. Even if he wasn't giving orders, he still commanded the attention of everyone within earshot.

He gave a long drag of the bottle in his hand, and then turned to walk away. However you felt it was your duty as first mate to pester your captain into spending casual time with his crew.

"I may know your opinion, but would you be so kind and gracious to remind the rest of the crew? Perhaps?" You called out to the dark coat trying to run from the party, and saw him pause, then turn to walk back.

You could see some of the newer additions to the crew cower. You didn't blame them, Crocodile was an imposing figure, and was developing a infamous reputation as a pirate on the Grand Line. But he was your captain, and he would never hurt his crew, this you knew.

"If I ever met my soulmate," Crocodile began, "I assume it would be when I attempt to kill them." He took another sip from his bottle. This was one of the rare moments he was not puffing a cigar you suddenly realize. It made his face look younger, as though he was actually a man in his 20s as he claimed he was.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Crocodile made eye contact with you. "When I realize I can't kill them, I'll call out for you." You felt your heart skip a beat. "Then you can finish them for me."

It was purely the grog's fault for making your face warm. The lack of a sea breeze was also suddenly apparent. But you couldn't be flustered, not when you were the one who asked for this answer.

You smiled, doing your best to brush off the tension. You were still maintaining eye contact with him after all. "Well there you have it. Not exactly the opinion I remember, but I hope I can live up to your expectations, Cap'n."

Crocodile nodded, then told you all to start to sober up or get to bed. "I don't need a crew of drunks on the Grand Line, or else we will never make it to the New World."

Your crew began to disperse and you went below deck to your cabin. You really hadn't had much to drink that night, yet your chest felt tight.

You thought you had learned your lesson, but no. Even after promising yourself you wouldn't, you became attached to your crew. Even after your last one fell apart. Even after you watched your first captain, your savior, be executed, you fucked up and dove straight into a different crew expecting it to be different.

You laid down in your bed, staring at the ceiling, the world slightly spinning. Suddenly all you can think about is when you met Croc.

-

It was little more than 3 years ago now, wasn't it? A whole 3 years since Roger died. The weight is still heavy in your chest, but not nearly as devastating as it was in Logue Town that day. You were a wreck, physically and emotionally.

After watching the execution, you were too heartbroken to join the others in pursuit of the One Piece. Your world has just officially ended, the crew was technically already disbanded, but now there was no hope of getting it back.

You ended up in some local bar. No one recognized you, and in the haze of all the excitement following Roger's death, why would they? You had just been some nobody apprentice who happened to stick on his ship after Roger saved your life.

But your sorrow did catch someone's eye.

You sat at the counter of this dive bar in Logue Town, mindlessly stirring whatever number drink sat in front of you now. You had run out of tears, and sat stuck in some frozen state of grief.

However, this sad portrait of yourself did not seem to deter someone from sitting next to you.

You paid them no mind, just staring into empty space, not enough energy to even remember you were still alive.

"You were a member of the Pirate King's crew weren't you?"

A deep voice rattled from the stranger, but it was his words that really caught your attention.

"How'd you figure?" You had paused your stirring at first, but now focused on your drink to avoid eye contact. You were a mess, you could feel your puffy eyes, and were still sniffling every so often.

"There's no reason anyone in this town should be sad that someone like him died. So, you must have known him, right?" The deep voice continued, and you could feel their eyes staring, but didn't have the strength to meet them.

"Well, you caught me. Going to take me in and see if you can get a reward? I'm afraid you won't find any posters of me though. I tended to get lost in the crowd, you could say." After that statement you finally grasped the glass in front of you and decided to knock back what was left. If this was the end of your little pirating career, so be it. It can die with Roger.

"Will you join my crew?"

Your head snapped up at that, and you finally looked up at the stranger.

Long black hair was slicked back to show all the sharp features of the man's face. A strong square jaw, a prominent, perfect nose, and pale, piercing eyes, hooded by thin black eyebrows. Undoubtedly, even in your drunken haze, you were sure sober you would agree the man was handsome.

After a moment to take in this stranger all you could manage was a "Excuse me?"

He smiled - no, smirked - and pulled a cigar out from his coat. "I could use someone with your experience on my crew." He carried on, as if you were discussing the weather outside. He lit the cigar with a lighter you hadn't noticed him pull out. Perhaps it was the booze, but looking at this guy, he almost seemed… fuzzy, around the edges.

"Having someone who once worked for the Pirate King should help me become the next Pirate King."

The stranger took a long drag from his cigar, then exhaled over the counter. You didn't know where the barkeep was now, but at the moment, it felt like you and him were the only people in the building.

You should be mad. Enraged at the audacity of someone to come up to you on the worst day of your life, and to ask you to work for them. But you felt nothing.

No. That wasn't right. You did feel something.

You chuckled. Giggled even. A small laugh that built up till you were laughing, nearly hysterically. You hadn't felt like this sort of light headed elation in a long time, and it was nice.

After taking a moment to catch your breath you finally looked back at the stranger. He didn't look upset at your reaction. He just kept smoking his cigar, waiting for an answer.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"I am Sir Crocodile, captain of the Neverland Pirates."

"Hmmm. Well, Sir Crocodile, I can tell you now that you have no chance of being Pirate King." You smirked back at him, propping your head up on your hand as you leaned against the counter.

This response still didn't bother the man. If anything, you swore he almost seemed… satisfied by your answer. Perhaps he knows what's coming next.

"I can help you out on the Grand Line and maybe help you get to the New World, but I promise," you leaned in towards this captain, staring him down. "You will never be the man Roger was. No one will."

Yet Crocodile was unperturbed.

"So you'll join my crew?"

You leaned back and reassessed your empty glass. You cast a quick glance at the bar and then back at the other pirate.

"Sure. I don't have anything better to do anyways."

-

You thought back in Logue Town you could never feel the same way about Crocodile's crew that you felt with Roger's, but you were always the fool. Now you are attached.

Now you need a reason to leave.

You couldn't waste your time or your heart with them. You had already died once with Roger, and if you stayed any longer you know you could never leave alive. You got up from bed - still plenty tipsy you swayed over - to your dresser.

Middle drawer, back left, underneath some no longer worn t-shirts was a small box. You opened it.

There were several small scraps of paper. Vivre cards.

As a child on Roger's boat, you were ecstatic to learn about vivre cards. A simple way to know the people you loved were alive and safe, and be able to find their exact location? It was too good to be true.

When you remember the feeling of Roger's paper burning in your hands at his execution, you knew the reality of vivre cards.

Your fingertips gently sorted through the papers you had made for some of Roger's crew. Each had a tiny name written in a corner. Shanks, Buggy, Ray, Gaban, Oden, and a few others of people who had been most important to you.

Maybe you could leave this crew and seek out the others. Rayleigh had always said he would retire at Sabaody, and your crew was bound to get there soon, hopefully in a couple months. The ache in your chest; you missed your old family. This could be the excuse you needed.

With a heavy sigh you closed the box and hid it away again. Sleeping on it would be good. Sleeping away the booze would also be nice.

Maybe then the tears would stop silently slipping down your face.

-

It turns out the excuse of seeing your old crew was unneeded. The news coo was kind enough to drop a reason to leave directly in your lap.

You stared at the newspaper for a long moment. The sinking feeling in your gut still did not go away.

You walked up to the bow where Crocodile was standing. He stared at the horizon as you approached the next island, Water 7.

"Captain."

Crocodile turned to look at you, face neutral, signature cigar in his mouth.

"Morning. The news any good?"

"They want to make you a Warlord."

Your own feelings were swept under the rug as your crewmates overheard. Instantly the deck was buzzing, the news spreading and making the once sleepy, slightly hungover crew come back to life.

"This is perfect!" The helmsman Diat yelled, a grin wide on his face. "Not only do we get the Marines off our back, it's recognition that we are some of the strongest pirates on the Grand Line!"

You would have laughed at him if not for the ice in your chest. Similar celebratory remarks were made all around you, but you didn't have the strength to pretend this was good news to you.

All you could feel was an icy feeling on your back, right where you had a large scar that tore up a long faded tattoo. But time could not get rid of the mark you could never forget about, no matter how much you wanted to.

Amid the spontaneous party you finally turned back to Crocodile. Amidst it all, he was still only looking at you.

Your words were quiet compared to the raucous around you, but your captain heard you just fine.

"If you become a Warlord I'm leaving the crew."

A couple of nearby crew gasped, heads whipped in your direction and murmurs quickly took place of all the yells.

Instantly protests, people yelling your name, yelling their arguments, but it all fell on deaf ears as you stared down your captain.

Tink of all people knew it was futile to argue with you, and turned to the man of the hour. "Captain! You can't just let your first mate leave!"

Before she could continue, Crocodile interjected. "You never planned on making me King of the Pirates, right? So you never planned on staying on this ship anyways."

This evoked even more protests from the crowd. Many of them weren't sure what you two were talking about, and some had begun to yell again.

The sounds were starting to be overwhelming, and this was not a conversation that required the whole crew anyways.

"That's enough from everyone!" You yelled over the cacophony. The crew went quiet. "This is a conversation for me and the captain, the rest of you need to beat it! Do something useful, we will make a port soon."

The crowd was not placated in the least, but it was true the ship would be docked soon, and there were things that needed to be prepared beforehand.

"You heard them. Get back to work." Crocodile finished your command, and the crowd dispersed. You knew they would still be listening, but it didn't stop you.

"I refuse to be part of a crew that works alongside the Marines. If you become a Warlord you automatically become their dog - then you may as well be a dog of the celestial dragons." Your tongue burned even at the mention of the world nobles.

Crocodile took a long drag of his cigar. He looked away from you and sighed an exhale of smoke, then dragged his line of sight back to you.

"I haven't decided yet."

You bristled at this. "Are you suggesting they already offered this to you? And I had to find out through a newspaper?"

Crocodile took yet another drag, and you lost your patience with his nicotine addiction. "Answer me Crocodile."

Your captain sighed through his nose this time, some of the smoke reaching you, a familiar smell after all these years. It once may have been a nice fragrance, knowing your captain was near, but now it blinded you and stoked your anger.

"We are almost to Water 7. Let's save it for there."

-

Tensions were high, especially between you and Crocodile, when your mood worsened when he disappeared while you oversaw the docking. But you docked. You got the crew into a hotel. During this time the crew began splitting into sides, which was not something you had anticipated. But you ignored it all until finally, Crocodile returned and you cornered him into in a room alone with you.

He had no cigar, and you had no drink in hand. It was a painfully sober room.

Crocodile sighed and slumped into an armchair. He dragged his eyes across the room till they met yours. You refused to look away this time, jaw set with determination to stand your ground.

"I don't want to be the Marine's dog," Croc began. "But they offered me a deal."

"The deal that our crimes are excused? Big whoop, as long as we don't get caught it's almost the same."

"No," he sighed, a large ring covered hand dragging down his face in exasperation. "A deal to help take down Whitebeard."

That got you silent. For a moment, as you recalled every time you saw Roger and Whitebeard exchange blows and fight for days on end.

"You? Take down Whitebeard?" You laughed, but it was a dry and bitter thing. "Your bounty is $81 million berries. Your devil fruit is great and all, but it is by no means fight and beat Whitebeard good. Even if Newgate was without his crew, our entire crew would be wiped off the map. You've lost it if you truly believe that this is achieveable."

Crocodile glared from across the room. Not his usual, perpetual glare, but a genuine, freeze you in your tracks ice cold glare.

He stood up, all 8 feet imposing over you as he stalked across the room. "I have let you say plenty of cruel things to me, but this may cross the line."

But you were his first mate and you couldn't fear him if you were supposed to talk sense into him. "Cross the line? I'm not the one who is making deals with the Navy so I can sail us to our deaths at the hands of Whitebeard!" You were yelling now, no, roaring at your foolish headstrong captain.

"If you take that ship and that crew as it is now to the New World to fight Whitebeard and his sons, no one will come back alive!" Your heart was on fire with rage and frozen in fear. Rage at your captain, who is very much overestimating his abilities. Fear for your crewmates who have no idea what sort of danger their captain was going to put them in.

Crocodile was now truly enraged on the same level as you. He sneered down at you as he suddenly grabbed you by the neck - much to your shock. "I wanted you there to see me become the next Pirate King. But if you can't support me for this, one of the biggest moments in my life since I've been a pirate, then I have no need for you anymore."

With his free hand he opened the door that was behind you. A group of Marines walked in with cuffs ready. "To sweeten the deal, what better than to give a former Roger pirate to the Navy?"

You felt all the blood drain from your face, as fear for your own well being finally pierced your heart. You looked up at Crocodile, and you could feel tears begin to creep at the corner of your eyes. "You never fail to surprise me, Captain."

"Well done Sir Crocodile." One of the Marines spoke, and you could tell from their uniform it was a Vice Admiral, though you didn't recognize them.

"A public execution of a Roger's pirate should be a grand way to ring in your instatement as Warlord."

You felt the world slow down around you and felt Crocodile's grip on your neck slip at the Marine's sentencing.

Crocodile began to speak, "That was not what we agreed on," But your ears had begun to ring.

Growing up on the Oro Jackson, you had picked up some neat tricks. You found out you were hopeless with the color of observation haki, but had a special knack for color of arms. Perfect against those darn logia fruit users.

In a blink of an eye you ripped Crocodile's arm away from your neck and you made a mad dash past him. And jumped straight through a window, glass and all.

You could vaguely hear a commotion behind you as Marines ran after you, but it was lost with the ringing in your ears.

You could hear and feel your heartbeat, pounding throughout your body as you ran through the endless alleys and canals of Water 7. You could feel tears pierce through the wind rushing past your face as you ran, desperately with no objective.

All you could think about was the way the heat of Crocodile's hand felt on your neck, the cold metal of the rings that had pressed against your pulse.

Have you ever really touched Crocodile before?

…

You missed him. You didn't understand why. He had just betrayed you - fucking hell, he was just handing you over to the Navy as part of his deal to become a warlord, but god. You wanted to be with him anyways. You're not sure how long you've been in love with him; his sharp eyes, the smell of his cigars, the rings on his hands, but gods above.

You had fallen in love with Crocodile.

In your realization you slowed down. Your legs and lungs burned, you were gasping for air and not just because you had been running.

Has it always been this dark? When did the day leave you behind?

You now stood in some nondescript alley, dimly lit a golden hue by windows that lined it. It was a long alley, each end blocked by canals. How you arrived there you weren't certain. But you weren't alone.

At one end sand had appeared. And from it stepped your dear, awful captain Crocodile. You both stared at each other, both of you panting for breath.

"I didn't want it to be like this." Crocodile's voice cuts through the air to you. You knew you should run. But for some reason you couldn't find the strength.

"I didn't know they would execute you. I imagined they would send you to Impel Down." Crocodile continued to speak. You just stood there and listened as he walked towards you.

As you watched him, there was a strange look on his face. You've seen it before but still didn't know what it meant.

He stopped walking ten feet in front of you. The light was still too dim to see him clearly, but it was fine. You knew his face well enough.

"I won't let the Navy kill you. Not after what the nobles did to you, it feels wrong." You had never told Crocodile what the scar on your back was. It didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

"I think I'll feel better about this if I'm the one who kills you."

You knew this was coming. The second you saw him at the end of the alley. But you agreed with him. If you had to die at someone's hands, you would pick Crocodile over anyone else. Even if it meant he didn't feel the same about you, it didn't matter anymore. You were so tired.

It would be nice to see Roger again.

But then Rayleigh's face flashed in your mind. You still had to pay him a visit. You still had to visit Wano to see Oden. You wanted to see Shanks and Buggy find the One Piece.

You couldn't see Roger just yet.

So, in a sudden scramble, you turned around and ran.

The ground where you had been standing suddenly crumbled. You felt a gasp finally escape your lungs as you realized you almost gave up. But not yet. You had to save your crew too.

Then you finally ran out of luck. The dim light hid a hole in the cobblestones and you fell to the alley ground. You quickly twisted your body just in time to see Crocodile's scythe of sand arc straight towards you.

It hits you right in the chest, and crumbles to dust.

Confused, you run your hands through the sand that has landed on your lap. You're not cut in half - instead you just have sand all over you.

Crocodile change his mind? He was letting you go? Thoughts and heart still racing, you looked up at him.

Oh.

Oh no.

The horror on his face was plain to see - that was supposed to be a killing blow.

But he didn't hurt you.

Your hand jumped to your neck from when he grabbed you earlier. But in retrospect, you had just been shocked by the action, he hadn't harmed you.

Crocodile didn't hurt you.

No.

Crocodile couldn't hurt you.

Because he was your soulmate.

It was the look on his face that hurt you the most. The disgust, anger, horror - this man did not want a soulmate. He did not want you. So why bother sticking around?

You scrambled back to your feet. Even if he couldn't hurt you, the Marines still could.

So, with blurry eyes and a heavy heart, you ran away.

Faintly, you heard a painfully familiar voice call your name, but then all that was left was the wind as you ran.

pt. 2 (if you want, but this might be better as a one shot)

[a-big-apple]

pls can we get your most niche tlt headcanons/ canon points you think are too overlooked or unappreciated/ fanon you see too often mistaken for canon/ juicy background bits on the babytrap or skater AU or otherwise.. the ppl are starving

omg this is exactly the treat i deserve after doing so many chores today, im gonna hit all these categories just for funsies

niche tlt headcanon: this is maybe more a theory than a pure headcanon but i think someone in Camilla's direct family line, either a parent or a grandparent, was from outside the Houses. Hect is an arithmonym, but it's not Sixth, it's a prefix meaning 100. as there's no 10th (or 100th) House, i like to think this is meant to indicate that someone in her recent family tree was an outsider! also she's hot enough for the Alexandrites, which suggests at least one of her bio parents or grandparents was hot enough for the Nireids and perhaps scored some out-of-House genetic material to spice up the Sixth's diversity. also Silas questions her eligibility to be cav primary, and since she's brilliant and badass and the Sixth don't base these things on bloodline/inheritance, there's no reason for even a prig like Silas to disqualify her other than some kind of citizenship issue. anybody with at least one Sixth parent is considered Sixth, that's their whole deal, but maybe the Eighth take a dimmer view?

smaller but purer headcanon that has no basis in anything except my gut: i think the "very silly" description of herself that Dulcie sent to Pal and Cam, and the drawing Cam sent back (mentioned in TUG), is a reference to this classic of ancient tumblr

overlooked/underappreciated canon moment: at this point i dont think there's anything i have noticed that i haven't seen at least one person blog about, but one of the tiny little things that gives me shrimp emotions is Gideon in the pool scene, after she's had this intense thing with Harrow, and then Harrow starts waxing about her beloved in the Tomb: "[Harrow's] voice had the quality of someone in a long dream. She stared through Gideon without looking at her, and Gideon gently took her hands away from Harrow's jaw. Instead she sat back in the water, buoyed by the salt, her eyes starting to sting from it." she's suddenly being told that Harrow is into someone else, she assumes these feelings she's been slowly catching are doomed before she can even really examine them, she pulls back from the very intimate position they've just been in, and she has a quiet lil cry about it that she won't even acknowledge in the narration. BUT I KNOW WHAT THAT SALT STINGING YOUR EYES IS GIDEON NAV

fanon you see too often mistaken for canon: GIDEON ISN'T STUPID T^T she's not a himbo jock, she's just a jock who doesn't care about necromancy! she also can't sense it, so she naturally has less information than Harrow about what's going on in GtN. she has a baller vocabulary, she's strategic, she's observant, she's super good at what she does, and she adapts to a completely novel situation VERY quickly.

also? i understand why it's visually more appealing to draw Kiriona with her chussy out, or modern au Gideon showing a lot of skin, i dig it, im hot for her too. but Gideon is canonically shy. she doesn't even take off her robes to duel in GtN, and is so constantly hooded that nobody even knows she's a redhead until halfway through the book. Kiriona is buttoned up to the point of wearing a goddamn ascot to cover her neck hole. i definitely understand au situations where her upbringing was different and so she's a little different, that's part of a good au for me, but it still always crosses my mind when i see her with her shirt wide open or her tummy out or in booty shorts or something. she's hot and she wants everyone to think she knows it, but deep down she does not know it and doesn't really flaunt it, except those guns

juicy background bits on babytrap or skater au: hmmmmm. Kiriona would deny it's the reason she hasn't named the baby, but she IS waiting for Harrow. she doesn't feel like she has the right, and she has complex feelings about both the names her own parents gave her. she has a deep-seated sense that Harrow, who is smart and cares a lot about doing things the right way, will be better suited to this responsibility.

in the figure skating au...a minor character from early in the story is going to be very important in the sequel fic, i think.

[itneverendshere]

hii! just wanted to drop by this message to say I’m currently obsessed with the series of ‘loved you at your worst’. It has dragged me to pull out all folklore songs again 🥲 I just loooove your writing style and it amazes me how you can redact so amazingly <3 can’t wait for more chapters to see what’s next. Quick curious question: can you give us some more context on how invested was Rafe in the relationship with y/n? I’m curious how their dynamic was when both were stable lol. (I’m sorry if there’s misspelling, English is not my first language hehe).

your english is perfect don't worry, it's not my first language either!

im gonna try to summarize their relationship pre-big break up: rafe was SO obsessed with her, like genuinely all-in on this relationship. when things were good, they were perfect, they just clicked in this undeniable way—emotionally, physically, spiritually, they were just meant to fit. he wasn’t just invested; he was borderline consumed.

but it wasn’t just love, it was also their shared trauma. both of them had been through so much, and that’s partly why they felt so seen by each other. she got him in a way no one else did, and he craved that understanding (that's why shit hit the fan when she didn't coddle him when ward died). when they were stable, he actually put in effort to be open with her (his version of it), and she was his safe place and vise-versa. you’d look at them and think, “they're meant to be" yk??

but when things went wrong...it was a shitshow.

neither of them knew how to communicate their needs properly, so they’d just explode instead.

they’d go on those “breaks,” but they were still obsessing over each other, stalking socials, making each other jealous with a little flirting, just overall trying to be mean and hurtful but also checking in, very much toxic.

if they want any chance at real happiness together, they’re both gonna have to do some serious inner work, “heal your childhood traumas” level of work.

therapy? mandatory.

individual and couples counseling. they’d both need to face all that baggage, which is a LOT, honestly, given their history. 

i know everyone’s mad at rafe for dumping her just because she called out his father—even if she wasn’t wrong—but remember, he was not in his right mind. he was drowning in grief, numbing himself with alcohol, desperate for any sense of validation, so yeah, he filled her space with someone else just to feel needed. it's messy as fuck and desrespectful, but it wasn't a calculated choice.

and here’s the thing: it’s been from reader's POV so far, so we haven’t seen everything. yes, she’s hurting, but she’s not entirely blameless either. there were so many situations she could’ve handled better, and you’ll get to see those moments from a different angle soon.

honestly, both of them need to grow up. while i love my baby reader to pieces, part of why she feels so isolated now is because she put all her energy into rafe and rafe alone. she never took the time to build friendships or let others in, assuming he’d always be there and she’d never need anyone else. so yeah, she’s alone while he still has people around him, but that’s not entirely his fault, either. they both need to work on themselves if they want to heal.

[wexhappyxfew]

IM HERE !! give the people (me) ❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜ for… Margie and Benny! :)

HI POET!!!!!! thank you *so* much for sending in this!!! it is highly appreciated in my lil corner of the world and terribly sorry it has taken me quite some time to get to as well!!! my summer has been so chaotic and busy - but! we are here now!!! THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD PROMPT!! I ATE IT UP!!! and plus benny and margie are both just being absolute sweethearts here! set in the time period where margie takes a nasty hit in Silver Bullets and it basically sends everyone spiraling. here's a look at the first night she's awake :) enjoy!!!

it was a wonder

(a/n): margie and benny being the sweetest peaches out there around each other, despite margie's clear and evident pain and benny's want to take all that pain away from her. absolutely. sobbing. them them them. anyway......im surviving the end of an internship so please enjoy my rare appearances here and there lmao. AND -- please enjoy for the margie x benny enjoyers!! <3

Despite being so far from the States, she almost felt like a small child again. In the way of, when she was sick, her mother and father doted on her life incessantly in a way that had made her for more loved than ever.

Caring for someone at their worst. Despite anything else.

Margie hadn't moved in over a day after coming out of the coma - at least they had said it was a coma. The nurses and the Doc hadn't been entirely sure what had been going on but assumed her body had been defeated after the prop blast that had exploded on top of the turret.

Everything hurt, her vision felt a little fuzzy still, and there was a persistent, deep ache in her shoulder and hip area that made her entire right side feel like it was entirely detached from her body.

"Here we are." Margie looked up and found one of the nurses - Charlotte or Charlie, one of the sweetest nurses there was on base - coming towards her with a plate, piled with eggs and toast, despite the fact it was nearly 2100. Margie couldn't fathom anything more than simplistic food on her churning stomach and was grateful for the sight.

"Plain scrambled eggs, some toast with some butter, should settle your stomach," Charlie said, settling on the edge of her bed with a smile, "how are you feeling?" Margie gratefully shifted her head with a weak smile and nodded.

"Thanks, Charlie," Margie managed out in a hushed whisper, voice hoarse, "I'm doing okay." Charlie gave her a knowing look and Margie dropped the facade.

"Do you have any more pain meds I can take?"

"I'd eat something first," Charlie said with a gentle smile, her face glowing even when she'd clearly been working all day, "we can give you a stronger dosage without you feeling queasy. Eat up, and then I can give you some more. That stuff from earlier should be wearing off soon anyway." Margie looked to her and nodded, shifting a bit uncomfortably and evidently with twinging pain. Everything hurt. That's just what it was at this point. All over.

"Sir, visiting hours are over." a loud voice called from the edge of the Med Bay - it was Virginia Stellhorn - one of the older and more experienced nurses on the ward, who clearly was not enjoying someone trying to disrupt her rules at this time of hour. Margie turned her head a bit to see a figure entering through the doorway and an angry looking Virginia Stellhorn behind him.

That being Captain Benny DeMarco.

"It's 2100, sir! Our patients need their rest, not all this ruckus-"

"I understand." Benny said turning to her as Charlie curiously peaked at Margie with a raised brow. Margie instead couldn't turn her eyes away from the sight of Benny there. "I just need to speak with a Sergeant M. Harlowe."

"Harlowe's in an immense amount of pain and would evidently not enjoy the likes of someone bothering her at this hour, now, would you please, sir-"

"Just for a minute." Benny said, quickly, "I….I visited and she wasn't awake yet, so-"

"Ginny!" Charlie called standing to her feet with Margie's plate of food, "I think Sergeant Harlowe wouldn't mind a guest, even though it's pretty late. It'd probably help her feel better, too." Margie watched as Benny turned to Charlie and then looked behind her. In an instance, Benny's face lit up with a smile and he raised a hand as if to wave.

If Margie's arms weren't wrapped, with one in a sling, she would've waved back. Instead, she attempted the weakest attempt of a smile that there was and watched as worry dawned his features.

"Charlotte Tarvers, we have rules and regulations to follow around here-"

"I know that, but-"

"Margie!" Benny was calling, moving past the two nurses, eyes set on Margie specifically as he hurried over, slowing down as he got to her cot in the lantern-lit darkness.

As he came to a pause there by the side of her cot, his eyes caught on her legs. Her one leg was covered with the blanket - completely fine - her other leg was wrapped in a makeshift cast, piled with ice along the sides, wrapped tightly and firmly. His eyes slowly crawled past her chest where she wore a loose button up, exposing the wraps around her stomach, slightly bloodied and stiff as she had shifted, before they traveled to her wrapped wrists and arms and shoulders. Her one arm slung in a sling, hands bruised and cut and covered in bandages.

It was a wonder that by the time his eyes had risen to her face, she was smiling - trying to convey the message that she was alright, she was fine, she was alive. She had a nasty cut along her chin, but Charlie had rewrapped it in the morning and she had said it was already healing nicely.

Margie was trying to stay positive. She was determined to get back out as her crew's flight engineer - she wanted to get back to Silver Bullets. Benny slowly took to crouching by her bedside, watching her with those big brown eyes, focusing solely on her face.

"Hey." he said quietly, a smile perking up on his lips.

"Hi." Margie said quietly with a smile, "Someone's quite the eager-beaver." Benny stared at her, the corner of his mouth poking up, eyes filled with a tinge of relief - as if to say, she was okay, okay enough to still make light-hearted jokes. Benny let out a chuckle and shook his head before leaning up against the side of her bed, looking at her with soft eyes.

"Kennedy told me you woke up today, wanted to at least visit before I bedded out," he said quietly, "sorry about the surprise and me, well, barging in back there." Margie grinned at him.

"Don't be sorry," she said with a wider smile, pained slightly as she shifted, "I'm glad you're here. You're quite the sight for sore eyes anyway." Benny tilted his head with a small smile and nodded to her.

"That bad, huh?" he asked her, his voice dripping into a suddenly slightly worried and serious tone, "A face like this?" Margie let out a laugh, before wincing and cringing slightly at her side, her one arm that wasn't as battered going to her ribcage.

Clasping a hand over the bandages, she uncomfortably shifted, before looking at Benny who sheepishly looked at her before looking to where her hand was covering.

"You okay?" he asked her, a tinge of nervousness to his voice, "Beside the….." Besides the obvious, she thought. She nodded.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, "I'm fine. Honestly. I'll heal up in no time. Get back out to Silver Bullets. I'll be flying soon - I know it." Benny gave her a look - he wasn't convinced.

"You'll heal up first before any of that." he said, giving her a smile, "And make sure you can both walk and have full function of your shoulder, too, alright?" Margie smirked at him.

"Since when did you become so worried about me, Doctor DeMarco?" she asked with a chuckle, wincing again at her side twinging, noticing a tender look cross his face as she took to staring at him.

"Hearing that you were knocked unconscious thousands of feet in the air because of a Kraut prop blast isn't the most comforting thing." Benny said to her, catching her gaze. Margie let out a small breath and then attempted a small smile. If she didn't know better, she could see the tension releasing a bit from his shoulders and the stress lines on his face, loosening up a bit when he was finally sitting there with her.

"What have you been up to since you woke up?" he asked, eyeing the plate of eggs and toast, along with the small bucket beside her, "Eating I hope?" Margie shrugged and then glanced at the plate of food, stomach turning.

"Trying," she said, "stomach's a bit funny-feeling, but it's probably a bit of the pain-meds, too, so….and Charlie's been great. So. Yeah. Afraid not much." Benny watched her warmly before slowly reaching up a hand and trailing her rather poor-looking blonde hair behind her ear, her sweat-lined forehead hot to the touch as he gave her a smile. He did that again, the touch so welcoming to her body that she was sure if he continued doing that, she'd fall asleep.

"I'll visit everyday, you know," he said quietly, and she stared up at him with a smile and shook her head, "you know I will, silly."

"You don't have to. You have other things going on."

"And this is one of those things." Margie smirked at him. He grinned.

"C'mon, let's get a bit of this in you," Benny said, retracting his hand and moving to the plate, sitting on the edge of the bed before facing her, "we'll go slow. I know your stomach isn't doing the best so, better we take it bit by bit."

"You sound like my mom." Margie said with a wincing chuckle, noticing his face brightening, "Listen, I was home sick a lot. Too many times I took the chance of going out without a coat, ya know? Lake Michigan was cold in those winters - all that wind and snow. Shoulda listened."

"Honored to be in place of a woman like that then." he said and picked up the toast, "Here." Margie looked between the toast and Benny's eyes and then took a small bite. The butter actually tasted really nice.

"Good?"

"Really good, thank you." she said, taking another rather eager bite and then looking up at him as she swallowed the piece down, "I've never loved bread more, I'll be honest." Benny got a laugh out of that as she took another bite.

"Remind me of that again when Christmas rolls around."

"Huh?"

"That you like bread. I'll buy you a loaf."

"Really?" Benny chuckled.

"I'm only kidding," he said with a smile, before meeting her gaze, "but I'd get you a bread loaf if that's what you really wanted." Margie let out a laugh, going to grab at her side again as she looked to him and smiled again, smaller this time.

"The way to my heart, Benny, truly." she said and she noticed Benny looking at her more fondly than he ever had, but took to taking another bite of the toast instead, relishing the feeling the felt good inside her. Actual food inside her stomach that didn't leave her feeling crappy.

The eggs were slightly less appetizing, as they made her stomach turn a bit, but she took down her fill and washed it down with water, all with the dutiful help from Benny who sat by her side and spoon-fed her bit by bit with that quiet smile on his face.

By the time Benny had returned the plate to Charlie and had come back over, Margie could feel herself fading. She felt bad - Benny had come to visit and all she had done was say she was okay (she clearly wasn't), eaten (in which he had spoon-fed her), and now half-fallen asleep (she was telling herself it was fine). Benny came and crouched by the side of her cot again and slowly leaned forward to pull her blanket further up over her body.

"Thanks, Benny." she said quietly, eyes half open as she looked over at him, tucking in the sides and grinning at her.

"I'm your……friend. Margie, it's what you do." he said with a smile, a bit of hesitancy, "Now, you focus on healing up. With food in you, get some rest and focus on taking it easy."

"I fear I'm not one to take it easy." she said with a joking tone. Benny watched her and quirked up a grin.

"Would you for me?" Margie let out a quiet laugh.

"Maybe for Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Bradshaw ain't here right now." Margie laughed softly again, wincing at her side.

"Then that's a no." she said and Benny grinned at her with a quiet look. Margie watched him and then felt the smile on her face drop.

"Can I tell you something, Benny?" she asked him quietly. Benny's concern was never one he masked well and within an instance he was nodding and coming to sit on her bedside again.

"Hit me."

"I don't remember it happening. The hit I took." she said quietly, "I remember one minute I was there. The next, waking up today. I….Kennedy said I was talking a bit when she pulled me from the turret, but I don't…." Margie's eyes welled with tears and that was all it took Benny to lean forward and gently wipe the few strays tears away.

"Don't worry yourself thin on it, Margie," he said quietly, "just focus on getting some rest. You just need some time to heal up. Don't think on that too much, okay?" Margie looked at him, his warm hand pressed there on her cheek and she nodded.

"I'm tired." she whispered and he nodded with a smile.

"Focus on getting some rest." he whispered back to her, "I'm right here. Nothing bad's gonna happen." Margie watched him.

"Promise me you'll still be here when I wake up?" she whispered back to him, "Please?"

"I ain't leaving, Margie." he said quietly. Margie slowly nodded at his words, his hand there on her cheek and drifted off, fading into a black abyss of slumber.

And when she came out of it next, her eyes focused on what was at the foot of her bed - the outlined figures of Judy, Kennedy and Bessie and then looked towards what was next to her. There, curled rather uncomfortably on a chair, was an unconscious Benny DeMarco.

If there was anything Benny DeMarco did, he kept his promises.

And he was there when she woke up.

Right there.

"What's he doing curled up like one of those Renaissance statues?" Kennedy said with a chuckle, coming over to Margie's other side and wiping at the hair awkwardly splayed against her face, "How you feeling?"

"Good, good," Margie said with a small smile, "Benny just….kept me company last night. Came to visit. Almost got in trouble."

"He's a sweetie, isn't he." Bessie said with a grin, looking to Judy who watched Margie with shining eyes.

"A real sweetheart, for sure." Judy said, "That chair isn't doing him any favors though." The four girls chuckled, Margie wincing again. It told her a lot about a guy who would sit in a chair for the night, next to her as she lay in a cot, half-alive, looking like she'd just been pulled it felt, from six feet under. And in Margie's mind, someone's actions were always louder than words.

Always.