#im looking forward to how this will turn out

[motherismotheringggg]

please darlin’

summary: reader is walking home from the jukebox joint when a mysterious man lurking from the shadows offers to walk her home, what they both learn in due time is that the unlock something in other person that they didn’t know was even there

type: black southern fem! reader x remmick

warnings/tags: well he’s a vampire so there’s blood play but i don’t think it’s particularly graphic, biting, dry humping, p in v

author’s note: i used the gif in the images but this post is based on this gif set here and a tiktok i saw that pointed out how HUNGRY this man was during the movie 😭😭 i also asked this question separately and didn’t get a ton of pushback just to reiterate — being attracted to the “antagonist” of the film does not negate my understanding of the film or its cultural and historical importance — im just a criminally horny individual 😛

The juke joint was still humming behind you—low and rowdy, with bass rattling the floorboards and laughter spilling out the crooked windows like steam. You stepped into the thick Mississippi night, dress clinging to the sweat on your back, the heat pressing on your skin like it had weight. The cicadas sang in the trees, and somewhere far off, someone was still blowing blues on a trumpet like their life depended on it.

You didn’t notice the man at first.

He stood in the shadows just past the tree line, his form half-hidden under the crooked lean of a willow tree. A white man, alone, arms crossed over a chest that looked carved out of something strong and stubborn. Brown hair curling in thick tufts, jaw dusted with stubble, and a guitar case slung across his back like a weapon.

Every instinct in you went sharp.

A white man in the Delta after midnight didn’t mean anything good—not for a Black woman walking alone with liquor on her breath and music in her bones. You held your chin high, eyes fixed forward, feet steady on the gravel.

He didn’t speak until you passed him.

“Evenin’, darlin’,” he said, slow and honeyed.

That voice stopped you.

Thick with Southern drawl, like warm molasses. He didn’t quite sound like danger. He sounded like moonlight through lace curtains. Like the kind of man you know who’d smile sweet, touch gentle, and still be the end of you.

“I ain’t lookin’ for company,” you said over your shoulder, not stopping.

“I ain’t company,” he replied, stepping out into the moonlight with his palms up. “Just a fella walkin’. Thought maybe I’d keep you safe.”

You turned, slowly.

“From what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smiled. Slow. Crooked. Full of something too soft to be harmless. “World’s full of bad men, miss. Ain’t no tellin’ who might be out this time of night.”

You looked him up and down. Tall, broad-shouldered, tan from sun exposure, and dressed in linen. That guitar case over his shoulder looked worn, edges frayed like it’d seen more of the South than you ever had.

“And you?” you asked, tone sharp as a razor. “What kinda man are you?”

He didn’t flinch. Just tilted his head with a confident smirk and said, “The kind who calls a woman ‘darlin’ ‘cause she walks like she got secrets I’m dying to know.” His hands clasped in a praying motion, you snuck a quick glance at the veins in them.

“The kind who knows better than to let beauty like yours walk home alone.”

You should’ve walked away.

But instead, you let him follow you. Not close, not touching—but his presence, his footsteps in time with yours, felt… right. Familiar. Like a song you’d heard before but couldn’t name.

When you got to your door, your hand hovered over the knob.

“Well, you best get on home now,” you said.

He nodded.

“Or,” he said, voice softer as he pressed judy up against your back. Not enough for there to be contact but very little room for anything else, “you could let me come in. Just to talk.”

You could feel his eyes scanning your body, though his gaze stayed respectful—it burned. He wasn’t begging. He was waiting.

You opened the door.

The next memory was heat.

Your dress hiked up, his hands on your waist as you crashed on to the bed, his lips slanting over yours with an urgency that stole the breath from your lungs. His body was hard and hot above yours, the curve of his hip pressed into your inner thigh, his belt buckle cold against your stomach. His fingers dug into your hips like he was afraid you’d float away.

He pressed his weight onto you as he came down into your neck , both of you slick with sweat, tangled in cotton sheets and heavy breathing. His tongue worked over a sensitive part of your neck that made you melt to his touch

Then—

Blackness.

The kind of still, shuddering dark that comes after a storm you weathered.

You woke up soaked in your own blood.

Sticky, metallic, warm and wet along your clavicle and down your chest. The bedsheets were ruined. You blinked up at the ceiling, then turned your head.

Remmick was kneeling over you. Mouth stained red. Eyes wide, almost glowing.

His lips, slick with your blood, parted slowly as he looked down at you in wonder. His voice was low, reverent, almost tender.

“This is what you needed,” he said. “Don’t you feel it?”

You blinked up at him, still dazed, your breath shallow. Slight traces of fear in your eyes.

“No more pain, darlin’. No more aging, no more fear. Just you and me, able to roam this earth and the next as we please .”

He brought his palm to your sternum, pressing over your heart like he could feel it trying to outrun your ribs. “I gave you what the world never would,” he proclaimed, brandishing his fangs in his smile. “Freedom.”

Remmick reached for your hand and pressed it to his chest. His heart beat steady beneath your palm—slow, deliberate, like thunder rolling through deep earth.

Your body tensed and then something inside you snapped.

But It wasn’t panic.

And It wasn’t fear.

It was a deep animalistic and hungry need.

Your vision sharpened at the edges. The room around you dulled into haze. All you could focus on was him—his smell, all smoke and sweat and salt, the heat radiating from his skin, the way his breath hitched when your fingers traced down the length of his chest.

You rose—slow, deliberate—until you were on your knees as well. You could feel the new strength coiling in your limbs, the animal instinct buzzing like a fever beneath your skin. He talked on and on about the promises this new life would bring. You flashed him eyes that communicated a nondescript but intense hunger and you swore you could feel his pulse in your mouth.

You trailed your fingers along the line of his collarbone, across the swell of his shoulder, then up—sliding into the soft curls at the base of his neck. He stopped talking altogether, just quiet in anticipation.

You gripped.

His breath caught.

Your lips brushed the shell of his ear as your voice dropped to a dark, sultry whisper:

“Bite me again, baby… and make it hurt good.”

He shuddered.

And obeyed.

His mouth descended like a storm, lips finding your neck, tongue lapping once over the curve of your shoulder before his fangs sank in deep. The pain was immediate, but it rolled over into heat so sharp and consuming you arched your back pushing you further into him with a gasp.

Your thighs twitched, your fingers clenched in his hair, and a moan clawed its way up your throat—raw and low. You throbbed everywhere, each nerve ending lit up, humming like your body had been set on fire from the inside out.

He fed, and you held him there, needing every drop, every ripple of pleasure knotted up in that pain. You rocked against him, your core tightening, heartbeat pounding in your ears like a war drum.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were red and his eyes glassy.

Your voice was hoarse and full of smoke when you whispered, “Again.”

—————

Daylight became a stranger to you—an old, forgotten friend you’d grown to miss some days more than others. Some days you wished you could unboard your windows and sit on your porch. But your life was now lived on by moonlight and instinct.

It was the way of things now. You didn’t question it. You just waited.

Every evening brought the same rhythm. The soft knock—three gentle taps at the front door, just after dusk. Sometimes you’d feel it before you even heard it. Something in your chest would tighten, like the pull of tide on sand. And then you’d go, barefoot and breathless, to let him in.

Remmick always stood there like a complete gentleman. Leaning in the doorway with that easy grin, hair tousled from the flight over, chest rising and falling like he’d just run to get to you. Sometimes his guitar was slung over his back, sometimes he’d bring flowers, he carried nothing at all. But he always brought that voice.

“Evenin’, darlin’,” he’d say, like it was the first time you ever met him.

Then he’d kiss you. Or he’d bite. Or both.

He’d close the door behind him and walk you backward until the wall caught your spine. His hands would be warm, calloused, possessive in that way that made you weak in the knees. And his mouth — he used it like it was exactly what you needed. Suckling at the place behind your ear, then down the slope of your neck. Drawing blood like honey, always lapping it up before it hit your collarbone.

Sometimes, he got playful. Sometimes reverent. Sometimes both in the same night.

There were evenings he laid you out like a meal, biting slow circles behind your knees or dragging his fangs just barely over the soft of your belly. He’d hum songs from his time while he worked, deep and low, the sound buzzing in your skin.

And you’d laugh. You’d moan. You’d shake.

It didn’t take long before the pain didn’t even register anymore. Only the pleasure.

Each bite felt like being struck by lightning, and each mark bloomed like a secret flower on your skin.

But while you were losing yourself, you started seeing something else. Something new in Remmick

At first, it was just the look in his eye when you pressed your mouth to his neck. The way his lashes fluttered, like he was about to cry. Then there was another time when you opened the door before he knocked, pulled him inside by the collar of his shirt, and kissed him deep. He didn’t push back, didn’t even make a move. Just let you take it.

You shoved him against the wall, your palm flat against his chest, and stared up at him with hunger.

Then, with one hand, you undid his belt. Slipped inside. Wrapped your fingers around him like you owned him.

Remmick’s knees buckled.

He let out the softest whimper—high, shaky, damn near reverent.

You blinked at him. “Tell me you like it.”

His eyes were wide, glassy, mouth parted. “Y-yeah… I do…” he whispered.

The tremble in his voice lit a fire in your belly. It left you soaked and smug and stunned all at once.

A few nights later, you were straddling him on the couch, skirt pushed high, your hips working a slow, torturous grind against the bulge in his slacks. He was breathless beneath you, hands barely touchin’, like he didn’t know where to put them.

So you took his wrist and placed it on your waist.

Then you gripped the length of his neck, thumb draggin’ under his jaw, and squeezed just a little.

His head tipped back. His mouth opened in a gasp. And all he could say was your name—like he wanted to worship and repent in the same breath.

But the moment that settled it deep in your bones came just three nights ago.

Remmick had you laid back on the bed, his shirt open, your bodies tangled in heat. He hovered above you, ready to push inside, eyes locked on yours like he was asking permission.

And then he dropped his forehead to your neck, his voice gone raw and low.

“Please,” he said, and the word shook straight through you. “Please let me make you feel good. Lemme do it right, darlin’. I—I wanna be good for you.”

He didn’t want to dominate. He wanted direction. He wanted to be given, not to take. Wanted to be praised. Ruled. Owned.

And you?

You could do that.

You were already doin’ it.

You leaned in that night and whispered, “Show me how bad you want it.”

He did.

And now, every time you touched him—every time you claimed him—he’d melt into you like sugar on your tongue.

—————

Remmick was doing what he did best—buried between your thighs like a man starvin’ for grace, kissing and sucking like you were made of syrup and moonlight. The room smelled of sex and sweat and something wilder, something old. Your thighs trembled around his shoulders, damp with sheen, while his hands gripped your hips tight—thumbs digging into the softness like he was trying to carve himself a home inside you.

His tongue moved slowly and soulfully. You could feel him moaning against your clit, the vibrations rolled through you like thunder through tall grass.

Your breath hitched. Your back arched clean off the mattress, a cry ripped free of your throat as his mouth sealed tighter, tongue flattening and working you in slow, tight circles.

“Remmick…” you gasped, voice crackling like a lit match. “Shit—baby…”

But just as your body built to that fever pitch, that hot, dizzy place where the edge was near—

It hit you.

Not just the pleasure—but power.

That molten core deep in your belly didn’t just burn for release. It burned to command. You weren’t just his feast.

You reached down and tangled your fingers into that thick mess of brown curls. Then you yanked hard.

Remmick let out a strangled grunt, his mouth fallin’ open as you pulled him off your cunt with a wet, obscene sound. His face was slick with your shine, lips raw and glistening, jaw working like he didn’t know whether to cry or thank you.

He blinked up at you, dazed. Wrecked.

“Darlin’, please,” he rasped, voice sandpaper rough. He tried to lean forward again, his nose just barely brushin’ your thigh like he couldn’t stand the distance. “Let me back. I need—I need to finish you. Please, lemme taste all of you…”

“Ah ah,” you crooned, your grip tightening in his hair until he hissed, until his jaw clenched and his body tensed under your hands. You tilted his head back, just to watch his throat bob with the swallow. “Slow down, baby… we got all night.”

He looked like he was fighting for breath. His chest rose and fell fast, his thighs flexing where they knelt on the bed—like it was taking everything he had not to fall apart.

“I can’t let you do that just yet,” you whispered, leaning down close, your lips just grazing his as your voice curled like smoke around the words. “Not ‘til I get a good look at you like this.”

You dragged your eyes over him—his blown pupils, the tremble in his jaw, the shine on his cheeks. His mouth was still parted, flushed and wet, and you felt the weight of his arousal pressing up against your thigh, stiff and aching beneath his pants.

You kissed him slow—deep and indulgent—relishing in the taste of yourself on his tongue, moaning low in your throat as his hands twitched at his sides, still clutchin’ the sheets like a man on the edge of salvation.

You shifted and now he was under you.

Remmick went willingly. His breath caught in his throat, body folding back onto the mattress like he’d been waiting all his life to be handled just like this. You climbed on top, slid your bare thighs around his hips, your slick heat grindin’ down against the thick ridge strainin’ under his waistband.

He shuddered.

Hands still not touching, he wanted to wait for instruction. They just flexed at his sides like he was praying for permission to reach.

“Look at you,” you murmured, your thumb ghostin’ along his bottom lip, feelin’ the soft tremble there. “You’re being so good for me, aren’t you?”

He moaned—real and helpless—his head fallin’ back against the pillow. “I am,” he panted, chest heaving. “I am, I swear it—all yours, darlin’. I’ll do anything you ask—just tell me what you need…”

What a whiny mess.

Your lips curled.

You leaned down and dragged your tongue slow up the column of his throat, feelin’ him pulse under your mouth. Then you bit—just enough to make him twitch. Just enough to make him need.

“I need you desperate,” you breathed against his skin. “Need you beggin’ for it.”

Remmick let out the softest, filthiest sound—a desperate mix of want and surrender—and your hips ground down harder as he whimpered beneath you.

And baby… he did.

Your lips hovered just above his throat, breath fanning warm over his skin as your hips rolled again—slow and molten, drawing out a ragged moan from deep in Remmick’s chest. The friction was maddening—slick and aching and just shy of too much. You felt his cock twitch under you, felt his whole body tense like a man about to break.

He arched beneath you, head thrown back, jaw slack and trembling. His hands hovered in the air—uncertain, unmoored—like he didn’t know whether to grab your hips or clutch at salvation.

“Please,” he rasped, voice hoarse, lips parted. “I—I c-can’t—”

You smiled, mouth grazing the stubble along his jaw, your voice like silk soaked in wine. “You can.”

You kissed your way down the side of his throat, slow and deliberate, until you felt his pulse jump under your mouth.

Then you moved—reached between you both and undid his belt with one fluid motion, your fingers deft, steady. The leather snapped open. The zipper whispered down. You dragged his pants low enough to free him, and he gasped as his cock sprang out—thick, flushed red, the head already slick and weeping.

His hips jerked into the air, but still—still—his hands fisted in the sheets like he’d been trained to wait for your word.

You licked your palm and then wrapped your hand around him, slow and sure, and gave him a few long, lazy strokes from root to tip.

Remmick’s whole body shuddered. His eyes fluttered. His voice cracked.

“God—”

You rose just enough to align him, his cock sliding through your folds, catching sweetly at your entrance. The head slipped in, and you sank down slow—inch by aching inch—until he was seated deep, your walls fluttering around him as your body adjusted.

And Remmick lost his damn mind.

His back bowed off the bed, a cry tearing from his throat, one hand finally snapping up to your waist like he was drowning and you were the only thing keeping him above water.

“F-fuck—darlin—please—”

You rolled your hips, slow and deep, your thighs clenched tight around him. You watched his face twist in pleasure, that strong jaw slackening, brows drawn like it hurt to feel this good.

He was trying to hold back—trying to let you lead—but his hands betrayed him. They clawed at your hips, gripped tighter, pulled you down harder, like his body had a will of its own and all it knew was need.

“You strugglin’?” you teased, raising your brows, breathless but smug.

He was unraveling. Stammerin’. Shakin’. That smooth southern charm dissolved into raw need. But he tried to mask with a smile the feigned even a shred of dignity.

You leaned forward, lips ghosting over the pulse point in his neck, tongue dragging slow up the sweat-damp skin.

You could feel his chest collapse under you the closer you got to his ear.

“I wanna taste flesh” you whispered against him, voice honey-slick and dangerous.

And then you did.

Your fangs sank in hard, right at the juncture where neck met shoulder, and he screamed—a sound torn from deep in his chest, feral and desperate. His cock jerked inside you, his whole body arching into your bite like he wanted to crawl into it, like the pain was just another kind of prayer.

His blood was hot and copper-sweet, rushing over your tongue in waves. It lit your nerves on fire—made you throb around him, made your hips snap harder, faster, riding him like you’d waited a lifetime to take this.

Remmick was gone.

A mess of sounds—moans and gasps and high, breathless cries—his body thrashing under yours as he gripped your ass like a man possessed. His voice was all broken pleas, all need and surrender.

“Please, darlin’, don’t stop—don’t stop, don’t stop—”

You pulled back from his throat, lips slick with red, grinning down at him with a mouth full of sin.

Your nails dragged slow down his chest, raising goosebumps in their wake.

You rode him hard and deep, taking what you wanted, making him feel it—all of it. His cries got louder. His body shook beneath you. You could feel him throbbing inside you, could tell how close he was from the way he gripped you like he’d fall apart without your body wrapped tight around him.

You bit again—softer this time—just above your first mark, and that was it.

He came undone.

Crying out your name—just your name—like it was the only word left in the world. His release hit in waves, hips bucking helplessly beneath you, cock pulsing deep inside as you fucked him through every twitch, every tremor.

And when it was over—when he was boneless and breathless and soaked in sweat—you kissed his jaw, slid off of him slow, and disappeared into the other room.

You came back with a damp towel, soft as cotton and still warm from the basin. Wiped the blood from his throat, the mess from his stomach, and then let him curl into your lap like a man reborn.

You lit a cigarette and played with his hair, slow strokes at the nape of his neck, offering him a drag every few times.

[viperify]

Im late but congrats on the 1k mar!!

If possible can i get the dating booth?

I'm a Gryffindor with some Slytherin tendencies, a Virgo. I enjoy DADA and Potions. My ideal date would probably be walking around Hogsmeade and checking out clothing/accessory stores. A few character traits of mine are being an extroverted introvert (veryyy talkative with the right people), artistic, in love with fashion, and painfully observant.

You deserve this, im happy you've reached this point and I can't wait to see everything you'll write in the future! ❤️

1k celebration | ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

౨ৎ Shopping Date.

A/N: hi baby!!! thank u sm for requesting and ur sweet sweet words. ilysm!!! <333 so sorry for the long wait, I am trying to catch up, I promise!!!

Weak sun rays tickle your skin when you pull aside the curtains of your window, letting light flood your dorm.

It’s a beautiful Saturday morning in late spring—deer grazing at the edge of the forest, fog slowly but surely lifting itself from the ground.

Especially beautiful because Mattheo invited you to a trip to Hogsmeade—one of your favourite places to spend a free afternoon. Strolling through narrow streets, checking out the shops’ displays.

Obviously also trying on various new outfits, accessories, dresses of the finest fabrics which you’d never be able to afford—not at the moment, at least.

After lunch, Mattheo picks you up at your dorm, a smile spreading on his lips as he takes your hand in his, leading you away from the busy corridors and towards Hogsmeade. 

As usual, you first end up in Madam Malkin’s shop. Walking through shelf after shelf of newly arrived summer clothes.

By the time you have seen everything, a pile of clothes has gathered on Mattheo’s arms—but he doesn’t complain, not once.

Not even when you take your time trying on everything—and ask for his opinion on every single piece.

“That skirt looks gorgeous on you,” he says, eyes scanning over your figure, stopping briefly at the ruffled hem against your skin.

“You say that every time.” You reply, rolling your eyes at him as he takes a step closer to run his fingers over the fabric, pulling you in for a kiss.

His eyes soften, tone gentle and genuine. “Because I mean it. You look stunning in everything you wear, sweetheart.”

“You’re no good help, Matty.” You tease playfully, disappearing behind the curtains again.

Mattheo proudly carries your bags around, just so you have free hands to feel and try on anything you want.

You stop at one particular window, displaying a short, red dress—your favourite shade of red, too. You’ve felt over it countless times, even tried it on—but never bought it.

It’s made of a soft, silky fabric, flowing nicely and not too thick—perfect for a little summer evening date.

“You should get it, you know.” He mutters, taking a step forward to stand beside you, looking at you—recognizing the spark in your eyes you always have whenever you want something.

“Maybe some day.” You reply, turning to head to your last stop for the day—the Three Broomsticks.

And when the night gets long, perhaps a little bit too long, your friends joining in for a few drinks—you don’t even notice Mattheo slipping away for a few minutes.

But what you do notice? The smirk on his face for the rest of the night.

And when you wake up the next morning, you realise why.

A white box, wrapped with a ribbon, waiting for you. You recognize the brand immediately—one of the finest dressmakers in England—specifically the designer of the dress you’ve wanted for months.

When you open the lid, your fingers brush over the material—soft, silky—familiar.

You don’t hesitate, immediately knocking on Mattheo’s door.

As soon as the door opens, he sees the impossibly happy look on your face as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him.

And that’s how he knows it was all worth it.

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3

—

masterlist. | 1k celebration. <- event masterlist.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[nattousan]

i don't know what aspect of autism this is or if it's just me being arrogant but the absolute blinding rage i feel over something this insignificant has Got to be a symptom idk

at work rn we're working on a very large foam sculpture for an event that has to do with a medusa head topping an entranceway, and i do mean it's Massive, like 8ft across or something. The client sent us a 3D rendering of the sculpt that they want us to follow and i seem to be the only one bothered by it.

The face itself is fine, the anatomy is a little wonky but it looks like what it's supposed to look like, but the snakes... dear lord the Snakes

there's no rhyme or reason to where they are placed or where they originate from the head, NO thought was given to how an actual snakes body moves or bends and they all ended up looking like squeezed out toothpaste or entrails, there's no flow to the design, there's WAY TOO MANY OF THEM for our small shop to sculpt by hand, NO thought was given as to how people were actually supposed to sculpt it so that it lines up with the wall/entryway it's being mounted to, they all look like sock puppets and overall the whole job is a mess from the beginning!!!!

I feel myself being paralyzed by all of these issues, unable to move forward without fixing them, esp since my questions of "how are we making this fit to it's frame without the frame itself" being met with a noncomittal "eh, we'll make it work, just do your best"

i have had my whole workflow disrupted by this and all of the other sculptors seem to not notice how WRONG it is!!! it's wrongggggg!!!!!!

im not trying to be a like... uh, art snob or something condescending about this but i find the whole design ugly and not worth making in its current form and that might be diagnosable idk, i guess i just need to learn how to turn off the part in my brain that cares about that and do it ugly i guess ???

[creolefatu]

Im Him Now pt 2

⭐️ After explosively mind blowing sex with your best friend Jon your on and off bf Carmelo is at the door. How will you get out of this one?⭐️

⚠️ NOT FOR MINORS! 18+ only ⚠️

“Jonathan! Why tf would you do that!” You exclaimed in shock and a bit of amusement while slapping his arm lightly.

“ Maaaan what he gone do? He ain’t go do shit, and even if he did he can’t beat me! I’m just having fun!” he said still laughing at the look on Melo’s face. You have to think quickly cause you knew this situation was not going to die down easily.

“ Come on you gotta leave out the back door” you tell Jon grabbing his hand and leading him to the back. Jon rolled his eyes and walked with you reluctantly. As you approached the door he stopped and grabbed your wrist to spin you back toward some him.

“You telling me I have to leave cause this chump that didn’t care about you until you wasn’t answering the phone showed up? You finna forget about the love we just made and take him back?!”

“What? Jon? NO! I don’t want any drama, what just happened between you and me was everything I’ve always wanted but I also don’t want yall to fight in my house. You think Melo is a chump but I know he’ll feel like he has a point to prove. So please let me get you outta here incident free, break it off with him for good and I’ll call you when I’m done. I just don’t want the drama.” You explained as you looked into those big deep pools of dark chocolate he had for eyes.

“Aight I can respect that.” He said leaning in to give you a passionate kiss. His lips were warm against yours and soft. You reached for the door to open it.

“AND WHERE TF YALL THINK YALL GOIN?!” Melo said in an ominous tone. He leaned against the door frame shades on as if he’d been there a while. “ I heard your whole little goodbye speech! You in here giving that nigga my pussy?!” He removed the shades as he spoke. His eyes burned a hole through your soul. Jon stood his ground, calm as the sea after a storm.

“I Should fuck both yall up! But I expect something like this from Jon bitch ass. But you? You owe me everything!” He lunged forward grabbing you by the throat and picking you up against the wall.

The next thing you remember seeing as the room started to get dark and you struggled for air was a fist 👊🏽 hit Carmelo in the face. He let you go and you fell beside him as you both lay on the floor. 2 massive hands reached down and pulled Carmelo up by his shirt and drug him out the back door. For the next 2-5 mins you lay there just trying to catch your breath and wrap your mind around what just happened. The noises from what sounded like a fight happening in your backyard caught your attention and snapped you right out of it. You made your way to the back porch. 

There Jon was all 6’3 250 lbs of him, whooping Melo’s ass up and down the back yard.

“ If you was treating her right and eating her right she would never had to come crying to me anyway!” Jon said between breathes as he landed another blow to Carmelo’s face.

Melo was on his knees now, Jon had him by the collar. Nose bloodied, lip busted, and looking pitiful. “Jon thats enough make him leave! Please!” You cried out from the porch. “He had no business touching you like that and I’m just making sure he knows that, go back inside and wait for me!” Jon said with a reassuring tone. You know this isn’t the right time but seeing him put belt to ass like that made you wanna suck him off the bone! 👅 💦🍆

“Hold up before you go Melo wants to apologize.” Jon said “Tell her you sorry for being a bitch ass nigga” Jon told him. “I’m sorry I put my hands on you, I should have never did that” Melo said almost as if he was crying. And with that you turned and walked back in the house.

“I suggest you get in yo lil Beamer, drive home and forget all about Y/N! She’s mine now! See while you was in the streets last night doing whatever I was here holding her all night! Caressing her body, stroking all her worries away! In every meaning of the word. You never deserved a woman like that Melo! We both know it! Big Jim IS HIM!” 

Melo walked to his car, ego deflated. But this wasn’t over not by a long shot. He watched as Jon turned to head back into the house. Fuck that! He gotta see me again! He thought.

Back In the house Jon found you in a bubble bath soaking. He walked in sweaty. Hair wild. But still concerned about you. You aight? He asked.

Yeah I’m fine I was a little light headed. But this hot bath is helping. This was a wild night. I’m just glad the hard part is over. Also, thank you. You said softly looking at the man that just defended your honor. No need to thank me. You for me now and I’d be pussy not to stand up for what’s mine. Jon said taking a sit on the floor next to the tub. Get in here so I can show you how much I appreciated that. You tell him motioning for him to get in the tub.

Jon removed his clothes revealing his strong Samoan body. He sat at the opposite end of the tub and you motioned for him to turn around back facing you. You took a small hand full of shampoo and begin to rub it through his hair making sure to massage his scalp sensually. He let a moan escape his lips as he melted into you. We should have did this a long time ago. He told you. You begin to rinse his hair out. Jon turned to look at you and you locked lips with him. Please let me take care of you like you take care of me Jon. You plead with him.

Jon moved back against the tub, and allowed you room to move in on him. You follow his signal. You begin placing soft kisses on his lips, 👄 while he cupped your face to pull you in. You reached down beneath the bubbles and find his balls. You begin to touch them lightly and massage them in your hand. Jon let out a moan as he sucked your bottom lip.

Damn girl, you bout to have to show me somethin. He said breathily. His erection begin to bob atop the water. You pulled away and caught the lustful glance in his eyes. You took his erection in your mouth. FUUUUCK he said eyes rolling back in his head. You begin you put in your best show. Hand jacking him off as you slurped him up. Gawk GUCK GAWK SLURRRRP GAWK GAG Your eyes begin to water the harder his dick got but you aren’t a quitter.

Fuck bae keep sucking that dick like that. He put his hand on the back of your head and begin to pump into your throat. Fuck you gone make me nut! He said. That was your cue. You pulled back up and straddled his lap. He immediately took your right nipple into his mouth which made you moan as you slid onto his manhood. It’s was such a tight fit. He filled all of you. Ride that dick bae. He said slapping your ass. Mmmh ima ride Big Jim daddy! You moaned. You found your footing and begin to bounce on his length. Your pussy was so wet and gripped him like a closed fist. Nut in me daddy, give me that nut! With every movement you could feel your orgasm building. You slow down and begin to grind onto him. Mmmh ugh fuck keep doing that like that, ima bust in you. His head rolled back and his body begin to tense up. You could feel the huge vein in his dick begin to throb against your pussy wall as you continued to ride him. He grabbed your ass and begin to force you down a little harder. If feel you baby, come with me. You moaned. In an intense explosion of ecstasy filled screams and passion you both erupted. He pulled you close kissing you intensely. We not even 24 hrs in and we gone fuck around and make a baby. Jon told you laughingly. Would that be so bad? You asked partially entertaining the idea. Well if your down I’m down to. Jon said wrapping both arms around you and you melted into him. Smelling the curve of his neck as he cuddled you.

Just then Jon’s pants begin to ring, it was his phone. Then the message dings started flooding in. Ding ding ding ding ding. Damn who’s trynna reach you?! Well I know one thing it’s not Melo! He said jokingly leaning over to grab his phone out of his pants pocket. The smile on his face dropped. FUCK! Jon said. What? What happened? You asked seeing the look on his face.

TO BE CONTINUED

[wrappedinpinklace]

Out of Bounds, Chapter Twelve.

(author’s note!! hii everyone, i kinda have the ending of the fic planned out in my head, and i don’t think we are much further from it, dw it’s a happy ending im not that mean </3, xoxo angel!!)

Your dorm was quiet.

Your roommate had gone off with her boyfriend for the night, again. “Don’t wait up!” she’d said, followed by a wink that made you roll your eyes—and you were left alone with nothing but a Transfiguration textbook, a flickering candle, and your own traitorous thoughts.

You were doing great. Amazing, actually. Your grades were top of the year, Professor Nygma had even praised your last essay, and the whispers that once followed you like a second shadow had finally died down. You had healed.

…Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But still—still—you thought of him.

Jason Todd.

You hated how easily his name still formed in your mind. You hated how your body remembered him even when you were trying so hard to forget. The way his hands felt on your skin, the way his breath tickled your neck when he murmured things he’d never say in the daylight. The way his voice rasped when he said your name like it was the only word that mattered.

You hated how much you missed him.

And Merlin help you, you hated how much you wanted him.

It started with a thought. Just a thought. A flash of him shirtless at practice, sweat glistening on his chest. His hair tousled, his smirk dangerous.

Your hand slipped under the waistband of your shorts before you could even talk yourself out of it.

This is stupid, you thought. Don’t do this. You’re fine. You don’t need him. You don’t—

But then your fingers moved and your back arched, and for one wild moment you imagined it was his hand instead of yours. His voice whispering dirty praise into your ear. His body over yours.

And all thoughts of guilt drowned beneath the sound of your own ragged breath.

⸻

Meanwhile, Jason?

Jason hadn’t slept properly in days.

He was tired, pissed off, and obsessed—utterly, pathetically obsessed—with you. Everything reminded him of you. Your perfume in the hallway. Your handwriting in the margins of a shared textbook. The stupid way your laugh echoed in his mind like a curse.

He needed to see you.

He needed to try.

It wasn’t like you gave him the chance. You avoided him like he was cursed. Wouldn’t look at him in class, wouldn’t speak to him in passing, wouldn’t even so much as glance his way unless Dick or Steph was around to intercept.

But tonight? Tonight the castle was quiet. Your roommate was gone—he saw her himself—and Jason had always been good at breaking rules.

He slipped through the dark like it was second nature, silent, a shadow. He murmured the password Steph always used (he knew it, of course he did), climbed the staircase with practiced ease, and stopped in front of your dorm door.

His heart beat louder than it had in weeks. He knocked once—soft, hesitant. No answer. He turned the knob. Unlocked. Jason stepped inside.

And what he saw—

What he saw made the world stop spinning.

You. In bed. Skin flushed, eyes closed, legs spread, hand between your thighs, head tilted back, mouth parted in a breathy moan of his name you didn’t even realize you said.

“…Jason.”

He froze.

His brain said leave. Turn around. Pretend you never saw this.

But his body—his traitorous, desperate, aching body—stayed rooted in place, watching you fall apart under your own touch like a prayer whispered in the dark.

You gasped, sitting up, eyes flying open. And when you saw him—really saw him—you nearly screamed.

“W-What—Jason?! What the hell are you doing here?!”

He should have left. He really should’ve.

But instead, he stepped forward, closing the door behind him with a soft click, locking it this time. And even though you were still flushed and panting, your eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Get out.”

Jason didn’t move.

“You said my name,” he said, voice low, somewhere between awe and agony. “I didn’t mean to walk in on you but—you said my name.”

“Old habit,” you snapped, pulling your blanket up, heart thundering. “Don’t let it go to your overinflated head.”

But you couldn’t ignore how dark his eyes had gone. How his chest rose and fell as he tried to keep himself together. How the room suddenly felt much too small for the two of you.

He took a step closer.

And you didn’t stop him.

Not yet.

You didn’t remember climbing into his lap.

You didn’t remember pulling his shirt over his head or kissing your way down his chest, but there you were—thighs wrapped around his waist, back against the pillows, skin pressed against skin like you’d die if there was even an inch between you.

“Still mad at me?” he breathed, forehead pressed to yours, hips rolling slow against yours. Torturously slow.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Furious.”

“Good,” he said, voice a low growl as he thrust forward—deep, hard, and deliberate. “You always fuck me better when you’re angry.”

You moaned—loud, uninhibited—as your fingers clawed at his back, grounding yourself in the only thing that made sense anymore: him.

Jason didn’t stop.

Couldn’t.

Your name left his lips like a prayer, over and over again, half-muttered between kisses, between curses, between moans that escaped despite himself. You were everywhere—wrapped around him, clinging to him, seared into his skin like a spell he couldn’t shake.

You dragged your lips along his jaw, biting lightly at the corner of his mouth, “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Wasn’t trying to,” he rasped, hand sliding beneath your thigh, lifting you to meet each thrust, “Just need to feel you again. That’s all I’ve wanted.”

You were soaking—slick, warm, tight—and every movement drew a new sound from the both of you. The room was thick with it, the slap of skin, the creak of the bed, the stifled moans you tried and failed to bite back.

“Jason,” you gasped as he hit a spot inside you that made your vision blur.

His grip on your hips tightened.

“I know, baby. I know.” He leaned in and kissed your temple, something softer layered beneath the hunger. “I’ve got you.”

You came hard, fingers digging into his back, mouth falling open as you cried out his name like it was the only word you knew. He didn’t stop, not until he was right behind you, shuddering through his own climax with a broken groan against your neck.

And for a second—just a second—the world was quiet.

No heartbreak. No rumors. No betrayal.

Just two people in a messy bed, hearts still racing, bodies tangled together, unwilling to let go.

⸻

Jason stayed longer than he should have.

His breathing had finally evened out, and for a moment, he looked like he might say something—something real. But instead, he just sat there at the edge of your bed, head bowed, fingers twitching slightly like he was debating reaching for you again. You didn’t speak, and neither did he. It was quieter that way, safer.

Eventually, he stood.

You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching, hesitating. Like he was waiting for you to ask him to stay—or to scream at him to go. You did neither.

“G’night,” he murmured, voice hoarse and low as he pulled on his shirt.

You just nodded, your face unreadable, your body still bare beneath the sheets. And when he stepped out, closing the door behind him with a soft click, you stared at it for a long moment.

The second it latched shut, the silence hit.

You sank back into your pillows, limbs heavy and sated, every nerve still humming. Your body was still warm from him—your thighs sticky, your lips swollen, your skin littered with the ghost of his touch. He lingered in the air like cologne and trouble.

And god, it had been good. So good.

You hated how good it had been.

Your fingers grazed over your neck, over the little bruise blooming there from where he’d sucked too hard, and you couldn’t help the soft breath that left your lips—half frustration, half satisfaction. You hated him. You hated him for lying. For breaking you. For making you miss him. But mostly, you hated that your body still ached for him, even now.

There was no way this was a one-time thing.

You weren’t delusional enough to believe that. Not with the way you moved together like a match to a flame. There was something brewing now—something inevitable. Dangerous.

A situationship. That was the word for it, wasn’t it?

Not love. Not yet.

But not hate either. Not anymore.

And that? That was the most dangerous part of all.

⸻

You were doing so well at hiding it.

You’d avoided the common rooms, skipped breakfast in the Great Hall, even wore a scarf indoors like an idiot to cover your neck. But of course, Stephanie Brown was many things—and oblivious was not one of them.

It started with the scarf. “Okay, what is this? Fashion from the Ministry of Silly Walks?” she teased, tugging on the edge of the fabric.

You tried to deflect. “I was cold.”

“In ninety degree weather?” she deadpanned. And then she yanked the scarf down.

There was a pause.

Then, “Oh my god.”

Your heart dropped. “Stephanie, I swear—”

“You swore you were done with him.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but no words came out. What could you even say? It wasn’t supposed to happen? I was horny and lonely and he has really nice hands?

Stephanie’s eyes widened even more as it fully sank in. “Wait—was this last night? Oh my god. You had sex with Jason Todd. Again?!”

You dragged a hand down your face and sank onto the edge of your bed. “Please lower your voice.”

Stephanie slammed your door shut and leaned against it dramatically. “Girl. Why?”

You sighed. “I don’t know. It just… happened.”

She crossed her arms. “People don’t just accidentally fall onto Jason Todd’s—”

“Stephanie.”

“I’m just saying!” She threw her hands up. “I mean, part of me is mad at you because hello, heartbreak and betrayal, but also… I’m impressed. Proud, even. He’s hot. I get it. I do.”

You gave her a look, but your cheeks warmed anyway.

Stephanie softened a bit, dropping onto the bed beside you. “Okay, okay, real talk. Do you… still want him?”

You didn’t answer right away. You stared at the floor, fingers twisting in the hem of your jumper. “I don’t know. I mean—yes. But also no. I don’t trust him. I shouldn’t even like him. But my brain and my body are apparently no longer on speaking terms.”

Stephanie nodded slowly, tapping her fingers against her leg. “That’s fair. But… just promise me you’re not going to let this turn into a thing unless he earns it. Like, actually proves he’s not an emotionally constipated disaster.”

“I’m not planning anything,” you muttered. “It was just one night.”

Stephanie raised a brow.

You winced. “…Okay maybe not just one night.”

“Y/N.”

“I know! I know. I’m doomed.”

Stephanie sighed, bumping her shoulder into yours. “Maybe. But at least you’re doomed with good taste.”

You both laughed softly. The kind of laugh that came with too much history and not enough wisdom. But there was comfort in that.

And maybe, for now, that was enough.

⸻

You hadn’t even been in the library for five minutes before the peace was disturbed.

Of course it was him.

Nathan.

You were halfway through annotating a Defense essay, quill tucked behind your ear, head down, when his voice slid into your space like an oil spill.

“Well, well,” he drawled, casually leaning on the edge of your table, “I didn’t expect to find you here alone. No bodyguard boyfriend shadowing your every move today?”

You didn’t even look up. “I’m trying to study.”

“And I’m trying to have a conversation. I’d say we’re both failing.” He smirked, eyes trailing lazily over your parchment. “Didn’t expect you to bounce back so quickly. Maybe heartbreak’s just a phase for you.”

You clenched your jaw, fingers tightening around your quill. “Walk away, Nathan.”

He grinned. “You know, since you’re available again, I might—”

“Try finishing that sentence,” came a familiar voice from behind him, “and I’ll make sure you don’t have enough teeth left to say another one.

Nathan turned slowly. “Ah. Speak of the devil.”

Jason stood with his arms crossed, still damp from Quidditch practice, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes hard as stone. You hated how good he looked angry.

Jason stepped forward, crowding Nathan slightly. “Don’t you have some Ravenclaw strategy meeting to be at? Or is losing all the time finally catching up to you?”

Nathan scoffed, standing his ground. “We’ll see who’s losing after the match next week.”

Jason smirked darkly. “Right. Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw. Maybe you’ll win this time.” His tone was all sarcasm, sharp and lethal.

Nathan straightened his collar and gave you one last look before sauntering off. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

Jason watched him go with murder in his eyes before turning to you. “You okay?”

You sighed and closed your book. “Yes. I was fine. I am fine. I don’t need saving.”

Jason tilted his head. “Didn’t look like you were enjoying the conversation.”

“I wasn’t. But I could’ve handled it.”

“I know.” He said it gently. “But I still wasn’t gonna let him talk to you like that.”

You looked at him, trying not to soften. Trying not to be grateful.

But you were.

You turned back to your parchment, pretending not to notice the way your heart was still hammering.

You watched Nathan disappear between the tall shelves, and only then did you finally exhale.

Jason lingered nearby, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his uniform trousers, but you didn’t look at him. Not right away. You were still trying to catch your breath, still trying to ignore the stupid way your heart raced at the sight of him.

“Look,” you said after a moment, keeping your eyes on the parchment in front of you even though the words swam uselessly now, “you don’t have to do that.”

Jason tilted his head. “Do what?”

“Defend me. Show up. Intervene. We’re not…” You paused, tongue heavy with words you didn’t want to say. “I’m not your girlfriend anymore. So it’s none of your concern.”

There was a beat of silence before he finally said, “Right.”

You glanced up—and regretted it instantly.

He looked… disappointed. But not surprised.

You sighed. “But… thank you. For what you said. Even if you didn’t need to say it.”

That pulled the corner of his mouth into the beginnings of a smirk. “Yeah, well. He’s a prat.”

You huffed a soft laugh, eyes flicking back to your work, trying to pretend the tension wasn’t still thick between you.

Jason lingered a second longer, shifting his weight. Then, as if trying to change the subject—or maybe just change the moment—he cleared his throat.

“So… hypothetically, if someone was completely failing Arithmancy,” he started, scratching the back of his neck, “and maybe hypothetically had no idea how to interpret magical probability equations no matter how many times it was explained to him…”

You raised a brow. “Is this hypothetical person you?”

He gave a sheepish shrug. “Might be.”

“Didn’t you used to have a tutor?”

He gave you a look. “I did. She was brilliant, actually. Charming. Cute, too. Shame she quit.”

You stared at him flatly. “Jason.”

He grinned. “What? I’m just saying. I’ve been thinking maybe I need her back. You know, for academic purposes.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling despite yourself. “This is your idea of asking for help?”

“No,” he said, a little too quickly, “this is my idea of trying to spend time with you without pushing my luck.”

His voice had dipped lower now, the cocky edge softening just enough to leave you unsteady again. You hated that he still knew how to do that—how to knock the air out of you with a simple sentence.

You didn’t say yes. But you didn’t say no either.

And Jason… well, he took your silence as a maybe.

And maybe was enough.

[puppymort]

Fic about morty being suggestive to rick around their family?

ricks weird around everyone. he puts his hands on his daughters waist, kisses his granddaughter on the top of her lip, holds his grandson by the hip… it’s not out of the ordinary for him. what is out of the ordinary, however, is morty sitting suspiciously close to rick during family movie night. typically he sits at the end of the couch, and it’s not uncommon for the two to be seated next to each other—but morty is practically (almost literally) on his grandpas lap. summers watching awkwardly, not sure if she should say something… usually when they’re being freakishly emotionally incestous, she rips them a new one. but that’s because they aren’t /meaning/ to be that way. this looks intentional. rick’s got his arm around the couch, so it’s not directly on morty, that’s not weird, right? not at all. beth fights against her own instincts, tells herself that this is just how families bond, and who is she to tell her father he’s doing a bad job when he’s clearly doing better than he was with her.

morty creeps a little closer, finally, until he’s curled up against his side and his legs are overlapping rick’s. morty blinks innocent up at him, smiles a sweet little kid smile, opens his mouth and, “grandpa, can i have some popcorn?”

“what’re you asking me for? i dont care.” rick reaches over and pulls the popcorn bowl near morty. morty blinks, looks unsatisfied.

“no, feed it to me,” he says, so casual.

“sure, whatever. since your hands are nonexistent, it seems.” rick rolls his eyes and holds the popcorn in the palm of his hand. morty eats it, like a bunny eating lettuce. he makes sure to lick rick’s fingers clean, suck on them for a little too long. rick’s breath hitches. face grows red. he pulls away after morty’s sucked his third digit into his mouth. “that’s enough.” he coughs out.

the family ends the movie early, partially because it was boring, partially because they were tired of watching morty eye-fuck grandpa.

rick stands, stretches, makes an ugly noise as his joints pop. morty watches him, hungry.

beth says goodnight, jerry’s fully asleep on the arm-chair. no one wakes him. rick turns to pace his way back to his room and morty stops him, doesn’t care that his mom is raising an eyebrow, or that summer stops in her tracks up the stairs to take a peek at them. “im tired, grandpa.” he yawns, stretches and then lunges himself forward, wraps his arms around rick’s middle.

“then go to sleep,” rick groans, trying to pull morty off of him.

morty lights up. “here?” he pokes rick’s ribs, which in turn gets him a not-so-playful shove.

“no, dumbass. go to your room. quit bothering me.”

“but i want to sleep with you.” morty pouts, now rubbing his crotch against rick’s leg. rick feels his boner. eyes grow wide. he instantly pushes morty behind himself, trying to cover it up.

“okay, morty, whatever, come on.”

that wakes jerry. “uh..honey?” beth looks mortified. but even she knows that she doesn’t have the parental skills to handle whatever it is that’s happening right now. “okay. you two have fun.” she doesn’t speak another word. she knows the look of her father when he’s going to make a bad decision. even more, she knows the look of her stupid, aroused son. whatever they were doing, she wanted no part…

[sirxaibs]

Do you know that scene in 'Regular Show" when Rigby tells Mordecai that his dating someone? You know, this one.

https://youtu.be/mTj87DvP0zE?si=dHh1sLPRuU5AA7RU

Right, so this is the exact same way I Imagine Sal telling his gang about him and his S/O. Right so you can just do whatever with it, you can turn it into a fic, use it in one of your other request, or just don't do anything with it. I just wanted to rant ig💀

OK GUYS PRETEND IM READING MY REQUESTS AND NOT BUSY!!!

this is a short one and is a heavily silly one!! I guess this can go with for popular reader AU! (modern au? idk i make a zoom reference)

masterlist

synopsis: gang minus ashley (supposed to be a dude hang out until the reader crashes it) finds out youre dating sal. Larry is as dramatic as fucking always.

“Dude,” Larry groaned, voice raspy like he’d just woken up which he had, two hours ago. “I think I’ve hit a new low.”

Todd didn’t even look up. “You say that so often bro.”

“No, no, this one’s different,” Larry muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “I stayed up late watching compilations of goth girls with nose rings reading poetry last night. I don’t even know why. My brain’s starving, bro.”

Sal snorted softly, while drawing. “You’re unwell.”

“I’m deprived, man,” Larry said, dragging himself into a slouched sit up. “I haven’t been touched in, like, months. Not even accidentally. I brushed hands with some chick at 7 Eleven and popped a big one.”

Todd grimaced and finally looked over. “You need help.”

“I need a miracle,” Larry said, pointing between them like he was conducting a funeral. “I’m surrounded. Whores to the left of me ” he gestured to Todd, “virgins to the right ” he tossed a finger toward Sal, “and here I am, balls dry and brain fried.”

Todd pushed up his glasses. “Being in a committed relationship with Neil does not make me a whore.”

“tell that to neil, i think he would say otherwise” Larry replied, picking up a cold chicken nugget from the coffee table and eating it without hesitation.

“That’s private.”

Sal blinked. “youre actually so gross man”

“Don’t act surprised,” Larry said, pointing a chicken finger at him. “You’ve got that hopeful little ‘I believe in true love’ look in your eye. It’s disgusting.”

Sal gave a noncommittal shrug. “I just think you find the right person when the time’s right. Someone who sees you. Who, like, actually wants to sit in your mess and love you anyway.”

“Okay, Plato,” Larry scoffed. “You say that like someone’s gonna come knocking on the door and say, ‘Wow, Larry, I love how you smell like weed and sweat. Let me fix you.’”

Sal offered a small smile. “Maybe they will. You never know.”

Larry stared at him, deadpan. “Dude. No offense, but I’m not taking dating advice from the other virgin in the room.”

Sal opened his mouth like he might respond, then just shrugged again. “Fair enough.”

“Like, I’m dying out here,” Larry groaned, tossing his head back. “I’m the whole package! like you both think I am!”

Todd was trying not to laugh now. “You are… impressive.”

“Don’t parronize me, Todd. You’re out here getting laid between being a smart fuck and fucking smart and I’m just trying to remember what it feels like to make eye contact with someone who isn’t in a Zoom lecture.”

“You haven’t been in a Zoom lecture for months,” Sal said helpfully.

“Exactly!” Larry snapped. “I’m practically a ghost!”

Todd sighed, rubbing his temple. “You do realize that you could… I dont know, go outside and meet someone, right?”

Larry leaned forward with a dark grin. “thats not in the cards mate”

Sal let out a laugh that made Larry smirk. “dude then that's fully on you”

“Thank you,” Larry said proudly. “I may be dying inside, but I’m still funny. That’s all I’ve got.”

“Maybe you should try actually dating instead of just flirting with sad bookstore cashiers and girls who sell crystals on Instagram,” Todd muttered, standing to stretch.

“I like sad girls!” Larry defended. “They’re mysterious. not to manic pixie dream girl these girls but fortunately for them, it makes them on my radar, they've seen things”

“They’ve seen you,” Sal muttered under his breath, grinning.

“Exactly. And they ran,” Todd added.

Larry flopped over. “You’re both cruel. I open my heart and you throw shade.”

“much needed shade,” Todd muttered.

“literally shut the fuck up” Larry said with a shrug. “Anyway, if either of you know anyone hot, weird, emotionally damaged, and preferably into aliens or tarot, please send them my number.”

Sal gave him a look. “You say that like you’re a good investment.”

“I could be,” Larry corrected.

Todd rolled his eyes. “dinner could come faster if you shut up.”

“mmmm sure,” Larry said, suddenly perking up. “And if it’s pizza, I’m sitting next to you and giving you a personal special gift.”

“God, please don’t,” Todd muttered

Sal stretching. “We’re getting you a hobby.”

“Sex was supposed to be my hobby!” Larry called after them.

Sal blinked slowly, coming back from his stretch. “Dude, calm down.”

“I won’t!” Larry flailed his arms dramatically.

Todd shifted just enough to rest his chin on his hand. “You have issues.”

“I have needs, Todd. Human ones. I’m touch starved and mentally unstable. It’s a great combo if you’re into damaged goods, but apparently no one is!”

Sal sighed, still sketching. “Maybe you need to stop going after people who are guaranteed emotional disasters.”

“Oh, and what would you two know about my kind of dating?” Larry snapped, voice getting sharper. “Todd, you skipped the trauma part and jumped straight into cozy domestic bliss with Neil like it’s some damn romcom. And you ” He jabbed a finger at Sal. “You’ve got the dating experience of a damp napkin. Don’t lecture me on romance when your only action comes from drawing mysterious girls in your sketchbook like it’s 2005.”

Sal’s pencil froze for half a second. Larry leaned back, huffing, muttering under his breath. “God, even my insults are sad now.”

But Sal didn’t respond. He slowly set the pencil down and looked up. The room was quiet.

Larry glanced up. “What?”

Sal gave Larry a long, tired look. His voice was low and calm. “Actually, smart guy, I have been dating someone.”

Larry froze. “What?”

Sal shrugged once. “Yeah.”

“…Bullshit.”

“I’m serious.”

“No. No, you don’t just drop that like it’s nothing. Who? Who the hell would date you?” Larry excitedly looked at him. “No offense, but if i were into you, I would but that’s because we match each others freaks, who else would?”

Sal leaned forward slightly. “It’s Y/N.”

Larry blinked. Todd looked like he was trying not to visibly flinch. Larry sat up a little straighter. “I’m sorry what?”

Sal nodded, a little awkwardly but without backing down. “Yeah. It’s been a little while now.”

“You’re telling me… Y/N. Our Y/N. The only normal person who tolerates our lame asses. That Y/N.”

“hey im normal”

“youre literally not todd”

“Yes.”

“And you’re dating her?”

Sal just nodded again.

Larry slumped back into the couch like he’d just been slapped across the face with a cold fish. “Unbelievable. I am literally in hell.”

“It wasn’t a secret,” Sal added quickly. “We were just… taking it slow. Didn’t want to make it weird.”

“Didn’t want to ” Larry laughed, raspy little noise. “Bro. Everything is weird. You should’ve led with that like, weeks ago! That changes the entire dynamic! I’m out here crying about not being loved while you’re sneaking off to make googly eyes at the one decent human being left in our orbit!”

“It’s not like I did it to spite you,” Sal muttered.

Todd held up a hand. “Okay, let’s not turn this into a thing ”

Larry ignored him. “You didn’t even tell me! ME. im highkey offended.”

Sal actually looked a little guilty. “I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“’Hey Larry, stop crying into your ramen, I’m dating the coolest person we know!’ That’s how you bring it up!” Larry exclaimed.

Todd muttered under his breath, “You’re being a little dramatic.”

“I earn my drama,” Larry hissed. “You guys are all out here winning at love, and I’m over here making up scenarios in my head.”

Sal’s voice was quieter now. “I get it. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

Larry let out a long, exhausted sigh. “Nah. Nah, it’s fine. I’m happy for you, man. Seriously.” He looked off to the side and added, “I’ll just go sacrifice a lock of my hair to the moon goddess or whatever the hell it takes to not die single.”

Sal chuckled. “Want help with that?”

“Not from you, traitor.. You don’t belong in my trenches anymore.”

Sal offered a faint, slightly guilty smile. “youll find someone ”

“I know,” Larry mumbled. “its just so rough”

The three of them fell into silence again Larry sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Whatever. At least I still have pizza.”

“I actually thought we would warm up some leftovers” Todd pointed out.

Larry stared blankly into the void. “I have nothing.”

then the front door creaked open.

“Hey, losers!” came Y/N’s familiar voice. The warmth in her tone was immediate, She kicked off her shoes in the hallway with a thunk, holding a tote bag full of snacks and energy drinks. “I brought sugar and caffeine. Prepare to worship me.”

Larry didn’t even look up. “Oh, look what the cat dragged in.”

Y/N paused, eyebrows knitting in confusion. “What’s with the tone?” She walked in further, holding out the snacks proudly. “I got those weird sour gummies you like, Larry.”

“Oh, wow,” Larry said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sour worms. Truly, you do care.”

Sal was now refusing to make eye contact with her, suddenly very invested in the corner of his page. Todd, meanwhile, was watching the scene unfold like it was a sitcom. Y/N squinted at all three of them. “…Did someone die?”

“Not someone,” Larry muttered, resting his chin on his knees. “Just my faith in friendship. And honesty. And romantic transparency. But whatever.”

Y/N blinked. “Okay. Definitely weird vibes going on here.”

“Is it?” Larry asked, dramatically pulling the blanket tighter around his body like he was the heartbroken lead in an indie film. “Or is it just the smell of secrets festering in the air?”

“What is going on?” Y/N laughed nervously, looking between the three of them. “Why are you all acting like you just got caught burying a body?”

Todd hummed. “Could say something was buried.”

Sal cleared his throat and didn’t look up. “Larry’s being dramatic.”

“Oh, I’m being dramatic?” Larry whipped around to glare at Sal. “You kept your little romance saga under wraps like it was state security, and I’m the problem?”

Y/N’s smile faltered. “…Romance saga?” Silence. Too long. “Sal?” she asked slowly, eyebrows raised.

“Hmm?”

“Wanna fill me in?”

He shrugged. “Not really.”

Todd let out the tiniest chuckle. Y/N looked back to Larry, confused. “Okay, am I missing something? Why are you glaring at me like I just kicked you in the face?”

“Oh, don’t play coy, Juliet,” Larry hissed. “You think you’re slick. Romeo told me everything”

“did he now?” Y/N laughed, exasperated now.

“i would argue not everything” sal peeps in

Y/N’s mouth opened, then closed. She looked at all three of them, eyebrows furrowed in panic. “Wait. Wait. What do you think you know?”

Larry stood, pointing dramatically. “Don’t play dumb! I know about you and Sal!”

“Oh my god,” Y/N finally muttered. “He told you?!”

“Damn right he told me,” Larry snapped. “Dropped it right in my lap like it was no big deal.”

Y/N flushed. “It wasn’t supposed to come out like this ”

“Oh, you think?”

“I didn’t mean ”

Larry threw up his hands. “Do you know how long I’ve been bitching about being single to both of you?! You could’ve at least let me know you were off the market so I could suffer in targeted isolation!”

“I was going to tell you eventually!” she said, defensive now.

“When? At your wedding?” Larry barked.

Todd: “Oof.”

Y/N rubbed her temples. “Okay. Okay, fine. It’s true. We’re dating. Happy?”

Larry crossed his arms. “Not really. I was hoping one of you was secretly wanting to date me.”

Sal smirked faintly, still not looking up. “Sorry.”

Y/N looked over at Todd. “you're such a bitch”

“Oh, I wasn’t going to help,” Todd said casually. “Watching it click was the highlight of my week.”

Larry exhaled through his nose. “Yeah. So congrats, lovebirds. I hope you’re very happy. I’ll just be in my room. Alone. Googling shit for special time that looks like one of you.”

He stomped toward the hallway like a man defeated. Y/N looked to Sal. “…Should we talk to him?”

Sal shrugged. “Give him fifteen minutes. He’ll come back for snacks.”

Todd held up the sour gummies while opening them. “I’m hiding these until he calms down.”

Y/N sighed and flopped down onto the couch with an audible groan. “dawg i’m so confused, i feel like i just cheated in him.”

Sal finally looked up, his voice quiet and honest. “Ew me too, but at least its out in the open.”

Y/N gave him a small smile. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Todd smirked to himself. “About time.”

[thewardenisonthecase]

Bloody Meeting

Fenris x Elizabeth Hawke

Summary: Elizabeth Hawke and Fenris haven't spoken much since she became the Champion. That is, until one night, he shows up on her doorstep with a stab wound. A/N: I'll be honest, I didn't like this how this one turn out that much but I need this fic to leave my WIPs. like, even if i dont love it, i need it to be AWAY from my sight whenever i open my documents so i'm posting it. i got stuck on this fic for months and now im finishing it while im sick as hell, i need it to GO. Link to ao3 on the title word count: 1,404

It was a quiet night. 

Elizabeth was awake, writing in her journal about the events of the past day - a meeting with the Knight-Commander, helping Anders with some mage troubles, drinking with Varric, wondering where Isabela was, the usual . Barkspawn lay at her feet, and she could hear his soft snoring. Everyone else had gone to sleep, and for once, things were peaceful. 

A year had gone by since she had become Champion, turning her life upside down. Where once she was just another Ferelden refugee who made something of herself, she was now known by the whole city. Everyday, someone needed something from her and she was happy to oblige, but Maker did she wish things were easier. She wished people didn’t need her as much as they did. 

She looked at her bed. Her cold and empty bed. So many people that looked up to her and yet not one to share a lonely night with. She sighed. There was only one person who-

A loud knocking on her door interrupted her thoughts. 

Barkspawn immediately awoke, standing tall, his ears perked up. At first, she tried to ignore it, but as the banging grew louder and louder, Elizabeth quickly stood up and headed towards the door. 

Groaning, she opened it. “What is t- Fenris?” She said, and gasped as she took a good look at him. He stood there, covered in blood, a hand on his side while he breathed heavily.  “Maker’s breath, what happened to you?” 

Fenris opened his mouth and took a tentative step forwards before collapsing, knees giving in. He would have hit the floor, if Elizabeth hadn’t caught him. “Shit. Bodahn! Orana! I need help.” She called out to the other members of her household as she began to drag Fenris inside her home. She didn’t make it very far - Fenris was heavier than he looked and Elizabeth was not strong enough to carry him up the stairs - opting to sit on the floor in front of the fireplace. 

She moved Fenris’s hand, and saw a deep gash cutting through his armor and his skin. Blood oozed from the wound, and she quickly covered it with her hands. 

“My Lady, what’s happened?” The dwarf asked as he approached them. 

“I need you to go into my room and grab some healing potions. And Orana, go bring me some towels and water.” 

She heard them scurry away and she turned her attention back to Fenris, who had fallen unconscious. Elizabeth had never been a good healer, and since meeting Anders she put less and less care into improving those skills, but she took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she focused, letting her magic flow through her. 

“C’mon, Fenris, wake up.” She said, opening her eyes and looking at him, hoping and praying it would be enough. Elizabeth gulped, her heart beating loudly the longer it took for him to show any sign he was alright. 

“Fenris, please.” She touched his arm, trying to stir him, as a panic settled within her. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him like this. The two of them had been injured in battle and taken a bad fall a lot of times. 

But it was different now, she thought. With all that had happened between the two, there was much she wanted to say. This was the first time in months that they had actually seen each other and if he was about to die here then-

Fenris groaned, and stirred and Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief. She removed her hand and noticed the wound had stopped bleeding though the flesh was still open. When Bodahn arrived with a potion in hand, Elizabeth was quick to give it to Fenris. She held this head up as she pressed the vial to his mouth and after a few sips, his skin mended itself back together. 

He was still asleep but there were no other signs of major injury. She breathed a sigh of relief. Maker, if something worse had happened, something beyond her skills…

She looked at her carpet, which was now stained with Fenris’s blood, but it didn’t matter. She and Orana could clean it later. She looked at the dwarf and said “Help me bring him upstairs. I’m not gonna leave him on the floor.” 

. 

Fenris woke up with a groan and a headache, as he sat up on a bed far more comfortable than his own. 

He put a hand on his forehead as he looked around and quickly realized he was in Hawke’s room. 

A fact made more obvious when he saw her standing at the foot of the bed - her bed - with her arms on her hips and a frown on her face. 

“Hawke-”

“How are you feeling?” They both spoke at the same time. 

“My head hurts but it will pass.” He meant to say more but he wasn’t sure what to say. The frown lifted from Elizabeth’s face as she nodded. 

“Good.” She crossed her arms. “Now, care to explain what in the Maker’s name was all that?” 

“Uh…what do you mean?” He scratched the back of his head, as he thought about what to say. 

“Fenris.” She began to walk closer to him. “You show up in my house in the middle of the night, bleeding, and then pass out in front of me without another word.” Elizabeth spoke in a worried tone. “What in the Maker’s name were you doing?” 

Fenris took a deep breath. “I was on a job. I got ambushed and I…came here for help.” 

“Where did this happen?” 

“Lowtown.” 

“Why didn’t you go to Anders, then?” 

He scoffed. “I wasn’t going to go to Anders.” 

“He’s a better healer.”

“Well, I didn’t want to go to him.” 

“Maker.” She said under her breath, rolling her eyes. “Stop being so stubborn!” 

“I don’t understand what your issue is.” 

“Don’t understand-” Elizabeth threw her hands in the air. “My issue is that you and I both know I’m not the person you should come to for healing. What if you had a grave injury? Something that wasn’t fixable with a healing potion? What if I couldn’t stop the bleeding? What if you had-” She stopped herself, but it didn’t take much for Fenris to understand what she meant to say. 

“I apologize.” He said, looking at her. “For upsetting you.” 

“I’m not upset, I’m just…” She rubbed her eyes. “Don’t do this again.” 

“I won’t. I promise.” 

“Good.” 

An awkward silence stood between them. She was right. Fenris should have gone to the other mage, in fact, he had thought about it. Despite their differences, even he could admit Anders was the better healer of their little group. 

But his feet had dragged him to her house almost on instinct. 

A year had passed, and things were still…weird between them. Fenris didn’t blame her. There was much he wanted to say but the words seemed always stuck on his throat. He wanted to apologize for that night and say he wished he never left. He wanted to say Hawke rarely left his thoughts.

He looked at her left arm, uncovered and heavily scarred from her fight with the Arishok and he wanted to say that that night he had been more worried than ever, when he thought she might die. 

Fenris wanted to say that the real reason he had walked over to her house, bleeding, was because he wanted to see her. Because ever since she became Champion, they barely had time to talk and she became more and more reclusive and he missed his friend. 

Elizabeth was not a good healer, but Fenris knew she wouldn’t let him die. 

Instead, Fenris stood up as she took a step back. 

“I should be on my way.” He said and she nodded.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” 

He moved past her, grabbing his things which she had placed next to her desk. The two walked in silence down the stairs. Barkspawn looked at him with big eyes but stayed put. Fenris chuckled and shook his head, as Elizabeth opened the door for him to leave. 

“Be careful out there, will you?” She said. “And go see Anders in the morning.” 

“I’ll do my best. Thank you, once again.” 

“Of course. Good night.” 

He gave her a stiff nod, and walked back home.

.

Thanks for reading! If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging it and leaving a comment, they're extremely appreciated!

[mc-tums-fog]

Under The Desert Sky

Fic Summary: Upon arriving in Australia from America and taking up the job as a ranch hand for the Marston Ranch for the sake of your family, the only thing you could find worthwhile of your attention was the night sky that was endless of stars. But that might start to change when you find that the particularly precise ranch owner sees you as someone worthwhile of his attention.

Pairing: Elliott Marston x GN! Reader

Chapter I: To Catch a Glimpse of the Stars

Content Warnings For This Chapter: Period-Typical Racism (Mentions against the Aboriginal people and Native Americans), Ableist Language/Ableism, Canon-Typical Violence

Notes:

Right now the plan for this is to be 5 parts long with each part uploaded on Tuesdays so hopefully at least one of those two stick.

TL;DR: Your Honor, his ass is down so bad to fix him and his racism he made a canon divergence fic

Also shout out to @smilingformoney cause I like how she formats fics on Tumblr so got major inspiration for how I'll share this fic here and for also jumpstarting my infatuation with Elliott Marston because I was only looking at Hans Gruber gifs on her blog while she was posting Elliott Marston gifs and once I saw Alan Rickman in an all black cowboy outfit I knew it was over for me.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

You already knew that from the moment you had first set foot into Australia that you hated it. The journey of crossing a vast amount of ocean with your family cramped into a ship containing at least fifty other passengers, one third of which were seasick, was not pleasant to begin with. Arriving in a climate you had rarely experienced before made it worse. The month you arrived in the city of Sydney; it was a warm welcome that was very much unwelcome. The air was hot, stifling, and every sense of the word cramping. You weren’t used to this kind of temperature, having lived in mostly cool city regions, and at times traveling to mountain regions that offered year snow. Did Australia even have snow?

Regardless, this would not have been your first place to move to. Or second. Or third. You didn’t even realize Australia existed if you were completely honest. You honestly thought your cousin, or uncle-honestly, you couldn’t remember your relation to the guy anyway- was making it up when he said he lived down here just so he didn’t have to attend family get-togethers. So when you had learned that there was a smaller continent that was right in the middle of the ocean, you were surprised. And scared at the prospect of moving. But you really had no other choice. Your father had come down with a sickness that left him with a coughing fit every single day. You caught the signs early, and the doctor recommended that you all move to a hotter climate as soon as you could, as it would ease the sickness progression, and hopefully, stop it all together. So, whoever your relative meant to you, offered the opportunity for you all to come down here. You found that it worked better, as no other family member lived in a hotter state, and you didn’t want to move to somewhere new where you didn’t know at least one other person. Especially since without the physical illness, your father, admittedly, was not all “there” mentally.

He hardly spoke to others and when he did, he was a man of few words, often which people couldn’t completely understand. He didn’t like being in certain areas and was really only comfortable with a small handful of people. He couldn’t do certain tasks but the ones he could do, he excelled at. But not many people found his skills useful. So, often, your mom would have to take care of him beforehand. Now the time and care she put in helping him went double time once he got ill. It would give her extra comfort to know that she had a relative she could reach by in time while being in the optimal location for his health.

So, whatever your personal feelings were the moment you stepped onto Australia, being far away from a place of familiarity, you had to hold it down for your family’s sake. You could adjust to a strange land.

And to Sydney’s credit, you were surprised, but comforted to see that there were building structures resembling the ones you grew up in, with there even being forests that were distant but visible to the naked eye. From what other passengers had been describing, the picture painted in your head about Australia was mostly a desert region, territory with which you were unfamiliar. So, at the very least, it seemed like you could make this work. So long as you found a job or two that allowed you to be indoors most of the time, you’d be fine.

And that’s how it was going, fine. You got a decent place to stay, worked jobs that allowed you to be away from the heat and come back home before nightfall to help your mom prep dinner and take care of your dad, and let the darkness from outside make your already cool room even cooler. As far as work went, it was much like the other times you worked, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. You could get used to this routine.

But it hadn’t even been six months since your arrival and you, and your family were already starting to have financial troubles again. It was like this before, with the family struggling to make ends meet. But at the very least, sometimes the different workforces you worked at would be charitable and allow your dad to work to some capacity, so long as you or your mom were around to help keep an eye on him. That was before he got physically ill. Sure, you could see improvements now that you were all here, but he still wasn’t well enough to work. So, it was just you to be the one to provide for the family. But the jobs that you did have were not enough.

As luck had it, that extended uncle-cousin had the opportunity to help you and your family out again. He knew someone who owned a ranch, who needed both a ranch hand and a way to repay back your family member. So, he brought you up, as you had prior experience of working at ranches and on farms. Both of those jobs were short periods in your life, but you excelled in them well. It was a deal that would work out for them both in the long run.

The catch was that it was in the Northern Territory of Australia, within what they called the “outback” region. That would mean you needed to move up nearby or live within the ranch for convenience’s sake. With your dad still only just barely getting better, and your mom still needing to take care of him, all of you couldn’t move up there easily. But it was a higher paying job that would have benefited you. Even if you hated how hot it was here now, you’d do the work in order to make sure your family was comfortable. You told your extended relative that you would take the job, so long as the ranch owner would accommodate by sending the majority of the money down to your parents. It would allow them time to build up the funds, and for your dad to get better, to move up there safely and in their own time. Once he got it squared away, you made the journey.

Traveling through the desert region made you realize how you took Sydney for granted. The colder months had just started to wear off, and the farther you went up north, the hotter it got. You did your best by staying inside the wagon whenever possible, as it had a covering over it. But that still wouldn’t stop the dirt and sand getting inside of the wagon. The sounds of wild animals would bother you more than it did your relative, he was used to it as he carried a gun around like it was an extension of himself. It was a bit unnerving for you, with not having much experience in weaponry.

Every night before you went to bed you had to remind yourself who you were doing this for, and just hoped the ranch owner was charitable in allowing time for you to take breaks when needed.

He was anything but.

After traveling for a few days and arriving at the ranch, the owner, named Elliott Marston, wasted no time in putting you to work shortly after your introductions. This initial interaction already set you off on the wrong foot with him. You could already tell this man was someone to not go against in any capacity. Your general tasks ranged from actual ranch hand work, such as taking care of the livestock, fixing the fences, emptying out the wagons when they made their supply runs, things like that.

But then Marston and his other men would have you perform menial tasks that would make you think they could easily do it themselves. It was particularly annoying when the men would criticize you or when Marston would watch you from his house, which he did from time to time. You didn’t know why. Perhaps the city look was still that much apparent on you, or Australians and Americans had distinct mannerisms that you had no idea about. Especially as some moments when you tried to take a break by dunking your head into a barrel of water, and if Marston and his men were nearby, his men would make a joke about how you weren’t accustomed to the heat.

These things, you could hold your tongue for. Menial tasks, the mockery, you could withstand that if it meant you got good pay. Which you did. But the longer you stayed there the quicker you realized how much his men were more focused on practicing their shooting, hooting and hollering with the ladies they brought back, and going after and attacking the Aboriginal people, you realized how much harder this was going to be. You didn’t care for any of that, especially towards the disrespect to the Aboriginals. In America, the tribes you encountered were the only group to show more respect for your fathers’ mental issues, unlike those in the big cities. You could see similarities as you learned more about them and who they were on the land. Seeing them treated like that, it would make your skin boil more than when the sun boiled your skin.

Still, it wasn’t something that you could just say that you went directly against without putting your job at risk. It killed you, knowing that you were trading your morals for money. But you just had to rationalize to yourself that it wouldn’t be much longer. Writing to your mom as often as you could, you just hoped that they could save enough that they could just downgrade somewhere in Australia, or maybe you could convince your relative to take you all into his house. So long as you could find a way where you didn’t have to work at the Marston Ranch while leaving amicably for the sake of your relatives’ connection, you would hold your tongue.

And you tried. You really tried. But as the hotter months progressed with barely any break time, besides sleeping in the lodge provided to the workers, and with the right set of words thrown at you to get you going, you couldn’t do that anymore.

Despite it still being within springtime, Australia never got any cooler for you. It was getting late in the afternoon one day as you were moving hay bales for the horses to eat when you overheard one of the men talking. You did your best to tune them out whenever they weren’t directly talking to you or giving you orders. But this topic of discussion revolved around the two Aboriginal women that they had on the ranch. Both of whom were still very much within earshot of what the men were saying. They threw various insults about them like they weren’t there, but knowing full well that they were.

It brought you back to the times that you brought your father to work with you at your jobs, and how the rest of the workers would say hurtful things about him, right to his face, and laugh. They did it under the assumption that he wouldn’t know what they were saying. But you could tell, in a way that he did. And even if he didn’t, you did. And that was enough to send words, and if necessary, fists right to them.

So, with the added heat from the sun to fuel your decision to finally shut them up, you looked over to them and called out as you were setting down the last haybale.

“Would you quit going on about them? They’ve done nothing to you.”

The men, and the two women perked up at you. The women’s faces were unreadable; however, the men made their feelings very clear.

“Keep workin’, this conversation’s got nothing to do with you.” One of the men, Coogan if you recalled correctly, tried to wave you off.

“With how loud and obnoxious your voice is I’m forced to be part of the conversation.” Your rebuttal back to him was, as you looked back to the hay bales.

He stood up more properly, as if to try to seem more imposing, despite still being a good amount of feet away from you.

“You think being from the big city gives you the right to talk to me like that?”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from the stables. “No, but it’s given me the displeasure of knowing that no matter what country I’m in, there’s still the same kind of stupidity that’ll set us back to the stone age. And I’m not going to be silent about it.”

The other men started to clamor as they could sense it was starting to get heated, at least from Coogan’s side. You were just planning to rest up in the lodge, thinking that he was just going to wave you off again, when his next words set off the simmering coals that were in you into a roaring fire.

“Well, it’s clear your mom didn’t teach you some manners. Because she would’ve been busy takin’ care of your dad. And we know he’s too slow to teach you anything!”

The clamoring among the men grew louder, but all you could hear was the ringing in your ears as you stopped in your tracks and looked him dead in the eye. You had heard them whisper among each other about your reasoning for being here when you first started working. But this was the first time they had directly made fun of your family.

It was going to be the last.

One fistfight later, that ended up with a set of stitches and a black eye for a Coogan, and a badly bruised rib cage and bruised cheek to you, you already began to pack your things from the lodge. You figured that you might as well wait beside the trees that were closer to the ranch entrance. Elliott Marston hadn’t been there due to some sort of business he needed to attend to with Major Ashley-Pitt a few days prior. If he had you would’ve likely experienced the consequences sooner. However, he was expected to come back later that evening. And you were expecting that once he did, the men would pull a primary school move and tell on you, and at best, you would be fired and either have to leave right then or in the morning. At worst… Well, you didn’t think about that or how Elliott Marston always had his pistol on his hip and how quickly he drew his gun on deserters.

Sure enough, he came back riding on his horse when the sun was just starting to set. He took note of you sitting by the tree, with your arms crossed as you looked ahead, only to give him the briefest acknowledgement by turning to face him slightly. Surely, he saw your bruised up face, but he didn’t comment on it, his expression unreadable. Which, that’s how it always was when he stared at you for no good reason. You continued back with staring ahead. As he got off his horse and went into his home, you could already hear the few footsteps of his men, with Coogan calling out to him.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you huffed in annoyance anyway. More so at yourself at this point.

You wanted to be a provider for your family. But this was taking a toll on you. You knew on a deeper level, if you explained the situation to your family, they’d be happy that you stood on your morals and got out of there when things weren’t going well. However, your mom particularly didn’t want you to get taken over by your pride for yourself and your family. Especially when it could have easily gotten you killed. It’s clear those men weren’t didn’t have to use guns to protect themselves. Though you were sure if she saw the state of your face now, she’d do everything she could to make sure those men weren’t standing either.

You laughed a bit. If she got her hands on them the men would get a glimpse on what your mom did teach you and that you went easy on Coogan.

Then there was the issue of money. You had initially figured that it would be quite easy to find another job if you left this one. But that was on the assumption you left on good terms. With how influential Elliott Marston seemed to be, especially with his connections to the army, it was possible that word of mouth would spread. And the influence would decrease your chances of getting hired by others within the area.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes, which caused you to flinch at the pressure of the bruised side of your face. You flopped your hands down and bumped your head back against the tree. Which unsurprisingly also didn’t help with the apparent pain in your head that was growing all together. You were about to close your eyes and wait for the inevitability of being let go either tonight or first thing in the morning when you stopped yourself. Through the leaves of the tree, you could still see the night sky, and the brilliant number of stars that were beginning to show.

You got up, wincing as you maneuvered to pick up your bag, and walked further out over to a crate that was close by the fence. You positioned it so that you were sitting on the crate but resting your arms on one of the wooden planks. As you looked up, a few things suddenly dawned on you.

First, you have rarely ever looked up at the night sky here in Australia. Second, you have rarely been outside at night during your whole time here in Australia, besides the occasional bathroom break. And third…

The Australian night sky was breathtakingly beautiful.

You didn’t think you'd ever seen this many stars in your life. Back home, the city night sky, when you looked up at it, hardly showed any indication of stars. It was always dark, looming and glooming over you. It felt miserable to look at, so you never did. But tonight, here in the desert, the amount of stars and the big bright moon casting the area in a calming deep blue hue that made it bright enough to still see everything was nothing like you had seen before. You didn’t feel dread when looking up at it like you had in the city before. There was something to it that made you feel a sense of calmness that you hadn’t experienced in a long while.

It was peaceful.

The serenity of the scattered stars shining over you was short-lived. You could hear precise footsteps from behind walking over to you. You exhaled through your nose in annoyance, already preparing yourself mentally for the chewing out you were likely going to get. You still stared ahead, but in your peripheral vision you saw Elliott Marston come up to your left and lean his own arms against the fence, still dressed in that all black attire that he typically wore.

You don’t even know how he was able to do that with how intensely hot it got during the day. At night you could see how the outfit could work for him, blending into the shadows. But during the day he stuck out like a sore thumb amongst his men.

“Seems you and Coogan had a quarrel.” He said in a strangely calm voice, looking down at you.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his tone. He always had this sense of superiority that was more than just being someone’s boss when he talked to others. It was like he viewed himself as better than everyone else in the room. You hated it. You figured that’s why he wore all black, just so he could stand out among the rest. He could surely hear you scoff at him, with how quiet it was, and could surely see you roll your eyes at him, given that he was standing above you while you were still sitting down and could see your face clearly. But once again, he didn’t comment on your reaction directly and continued.

“I don’t appreciate fighting among my workers, nothing gets done once they do.”

“And I don’t appreciate the disrespect he showed to my parents,” A quick brief pause, before you decided to add the last part, “And to the Aboriginals.” You figured that since you were already in the shit, you might as well go further into it.

You could tell he cocked his head at you as you still stared straight ahead.

“I could understand defending your parents honor, but to defend such an uncivilized kind of-”

You cut him off, finally looking up at him. “You think you’re any better than them?”

For a split moment, the unreadable stare he normally had finally had an expression to tie it down to, that being shock. He really must’ve not been expecting you to say something to him. Maybe he figured that you would turn yellow and try to smooth the situation out for your sake. He was wrong. The emotion was there for only a moment as he composed himself to get back into his usual stare. But you could tell that the gears in his head were turning much like a clock. As if he was trying to convince himself that you didn’t say what you just said to him.

“They’ve come and ruined our crops and livestock, something that keeps us fed and workers a job, which includes you mind you.” He said in an even calmer tone of voice. Like he was restraining himself. Like he was giving you another out to take back what you said and learn to respect what he was saying.

But it didn’t. And you had no problem in not restraining yourself.

“And you don’t think for a second that maybe it’s because of what you’re doing to them? They’ll easily make trades with those in the other towns as I’ve heard, with no issues whatsoever. No bloodshed from either group. Meanwhile, you and your men hold hunting parties when they travel through the desert, to get away from you, mind you.”

He seemed like he was going to rebuttal that statement, but you weren’t done.

“I hear you talk about how you’re a student for other countries like America. Wearing your intelligence like it’s a badge. But if you can’t see how your ruthless acts are on par to what you claim the Aboriginals are doing to you, then you mustn’t be a good one.”

You looked back up to the stars.

“You’re no better than any of them.”

You were certain that your chances of getting fired were increased by the max right now. And if there was initially no chance of him taking more drastic measures, such as leaving you to die in Australia, the chances were increased now. But you couldn’t keep your opinions to yourself any longer. You respected yourself too much for that. Even now, when you could feel his intense gaze burning into you, you weren’t going to beg for his mercy.

The few moments of silence were so heavy and filled with tension, only being broken by the night sounds and distant barking of a dingo, or coyote, you still couldn’t tell the difference. You were just waiting for the moment that he would break it by whatever reaction he saw fit.

But the reaction you got wasn’t what you expected.

“You don’t know me well enough to make that judgement.”

You were about to counter that statement when what he said right after stopped you.

“But I suppose the same could be said about me to you.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that. And why he said it in a much softer and more thoughtful tone than how he was originally speaking. But you didn’t have time to ponder that as he added more to your confusion.

“I’m a man of my word. I intended to uphold the deal between your cousin and I.”

Well at least your relatives’ identity got squared away, though you were certain he was old enough to be your uncle.

But that wasn’t important right now. You were still trying to figure out how he was even allowing you to breathe at this point.

You waited to hear if he would then explain the consequence for speaking and acting like that towards his men and especially to him. But a moment passed, and he still didn’t say anything. He kept staring out to where you were looking at, which was right at the stars. Getting lost into them just as much as you had been a moment prior.

You were about to bite the bullet and ask him what the catch was to still being employed to him, but he got up from where he was standing and began to walk back. As he walked, he spoke in that calm yet full of that superiority tone of voice he normally had.

“That fence is not stable. Unless you plan on working with a lantern, I expect you to be working on it early in the morning.”

You just looked at him as he continued walking away, dumbfounded. That task was like the other tasks he had given you before. So, it wasn’t like he was going to work you to death. Unless he had that planned for later. But if he was truly a man of his word then he was still going to keep the deal going. You could only assume that this meant he wasn’t going to decrease the pay. Surely if he did, he would know that you would write to your cousin about it, leading to more complications between the two.

So, what was it. What was the catch that he had planned.

You weren’t sure, and you knew it would be best to keep your guard up for the coming days. But for now… you looked back up to the stars one more time. You could tell that the calmness that they brought will be helpful to get you through whatever was going to happen within the next, however long you were employed here.

You took comfort in knowing that the stars would be there when the catch came.

[boneysoda]

i was banking on both of them having heart poses in their trained but. heh. guess not.

its okay guys he just got too excited and forgot to match his boyfriend's pose 🙂‍↕️🥹

[just-null]

YO, SUPER LATE SUPER LONG SUPER MESSY OCTOBER POST THAT I JUST SHOVED EVERYTHING INTO BC I DIDN'T WANT TO DO MULTIPLE. FUCK IT.

I forgot halfway that these were supposed to be costumes and not mini aus... SO REMEMBER IN MY PLACE, EVERYTHING IS HYPOTHETICAL. also. some have a bit of yandere elements to them bc its SO FITTING FOR NORITOSHI.

Happy late October, everyone. it's winter now. Let's get it, baby.

[Long rambles and doodles under the cut!]

Vampire!

I kept asking myself, "How sexy is too sexy.." and "How the fuck does a sexy vampire even look like without it being a shirtless guy w fangs or Edward Cullen....." I think I figured it out

Sure, sure, vampires are superhumans with sun allergies that can drink blood really hotly. They can also easily overpower you to feast and blah blah blah, but what if said vampire (Noritoshi) was too weak to do any of that? Not literally, but he craves your say. He wants not only your blood but your affection. He wants to get praised as he drinks you in. Are you comfortable? How much will you allow him to take? Do you want to get him back in return? Guidance with this makes him feel more at ease. It's still Noritoshi at the end of the day. He's going to find a way to be a little awkward about you because of his crush. He refuses to drink from anyone other than you, even if it causes his death. Therefore, he has to keep you healthy! For the rest of your lives..! Besides, he can't really go outside or else he'd.. y'know. So if you think about it, this is a very beneficial relationship for both of you!!

The only downside is that you're losing blood on the regular, and for some reason, more people are moving away... Probably nothing, right? Noritoshi is always there to keep you company and help you recover anyways.

Witch!

my attempts also bled into the witch design.... you got greedy with requesting two in one ask, but I'll spoil you this time bc I also wanted to see Noritoshi as a (sexy) vampire and witch. heh. AND I DIDNT REALIZE HED BE SO CUTE AS A WITCH..... WHAT THE FUCK?? rip momo, fight for your title of cute witch...

Noritoshi strikes me as one of those witches who'd rather be left to their own devices because they're running some important magic whatever in the background. though, he'll take some breaks and indulge you if you insist on having him around. Insist meaning you pass by and strike conversation, leaving him to neglect anything and everything to prioritize his time with you. He doesn't want to use magic on you unless it's beneficial for either you or both. Noritoshi likes a natural progression with you that he knows for a fact is true and not some product of some spell. Though it doesn't mean he wouldn't use charms and such to get you to interact with him more often to speed up the process!

Can't sleep? He has a remedy perfect for that! Bad luck? Oh no, take a charm. Nerves? A potion he perfected will help you ease your jitters. Annoying peers? With a snap of Noritoshi's fingers, they're gone! Just don't ask what happened. Enjoy yourself instead and come to him with any new issue. He's quick to resolve it.

Definitely has some sort of doll that looks suspiciously like you.. Noritoshi would probably talk to it and practice one liners that give you the strongest sense of nostalgia once he uses them. He's simultaneously giddy that the charm he put in the doll works but also a little annoyed that his hard work isn't surprising you, but leaving you with deja vu.

Idol!

i was crying the entire time bc what does an idol look like.... noritoshi is handsome enough to be an idol without actually being an idol... now i can confirm that idols are very well dressed though. thumbs up 100% but i had some thoughts...

[Idol]

Noritoshi would be the type to cherish his fans, but hold clear favoritism over you. he'd be those idols that look cold, but they talk, and they sound smug in a charming way. i don't know much about idols, but i know he'd be so fucking good.... he'd be the type of guy to sing to you amongst the hundreds in the crowd.... ahhh the interviews w these famous aus. they're just talking and acting like themselves. can you imagine Noritoshi getting asked the question if he has a lover or not? he can lie, im sure you're alright with that, but he doesn't want to!! he does have someone!!! someone he loves more than all his fans love for him combined!!! he just can't say it for the sake of your privacy and his career. so Noritoshi does what any charming guy who's good with their words does. he deflects the question. answering the question, but not really, that'd be something he's known for. fans online are split on why Noritoshi does this. some think he's trying to keep that side of his life private, others think he's trying to mess around, and others think he's hiding a secret lover!!! though the last one is usually seen as the outlandish one, sometimes it makes Noritoshi's heart drop bc they get some things right. "Having a lover is a complicated question hidden behind a simple disguise. If I had to answer, I'd say my lovers are my audience. they make sure i'm well cared for, some more than others." AND HIS FUCKING LITTLE SMIRK I CANT COUGHS UP BLOOD. IM A THEORIST TOO. SECRET LOVER. 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

ON THE FLIP SIDE....

[Not an Idol]

An amusing thought where Noritoshi goes out in his casual clothes, and he's mistaken for an idol. No one knows who he is, but he just looks like he'd be one. bro's just trying to buy groceries, and now he has a fan group asking him to take pictures with them.. He'd tell them that he's just a guy, not an idol, but the group would still want a picture with him. it'd be a waste to pass by someone who's so naturally gorgeous, so with a sigh of defeat, he relents. It's just a photo, right? No harm done. Noritoshi'd go home and feel overwhelmed/embarrassed by the whole ordeal. later, he gets a call from someone in the kyoto group or you to inform him how he's all over social media, known as that handsome guy in the supermarket. HED BE COMPLETELY UNREACHABLE TO MEDIA OUTLETS BC NORITOSHI IS THAT GUY WHO DOESNT HAVE SOCIAL MEDIA.... he'd have to make one to make sure no one pretends to be him online. "Hello, I don't use social media, but I've been informed I've been getting attention online. To prevent anyone from being fooled by an impersonator, this is my official and only account. thank you." P.R. STATEMENT WRITING ASS.. his single post gets flooded with likes, comments, and DMs. it almost blows up his phone..... he was just buying bread, dude...... people try to dig up and find him through the other Kyoto group's social media.

[bonus] my second in command requested to put him in a fem idol outfit bc he thought it was funny. after frothing at the mouth and coughing out blood, I complied.

Doctor!

THIS IS SUCH A STRAIGHT FORWARD ASK BUT IT HAS SO MANY IMPLICATIONS. MY BELOVED CULT MEMBER.. THOSE EMOJIS GIVE ME A DIFFERENT IMPRESSION BUT IM NOT SURE.

Noritoshi as a doctor...... apple sales would plummet. his little clinic's business would skyrocket. sick cases would peak in his area. getting your heart checked by his stethoscope would be so fucking embarrassing bc all he'd hear is THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP

LIKE IMAGINE IF THAT WAS YOUR DOCTOR? BRO.

COUGH COUGH HACK WHEEZE COUGH COUGH.

Noritoshi would probably own a small clinic that he wants to expand. That or he opened one after working for a hospital for a while. He's a great doctor who's most likely respected but a pain in the ass to work with. Among patients, he's gotten the hot doctor reputation. Most want to be treated by him, but he's so professional, any chance of trying to flirt goes down the drain. Yeah, he puts his hair up to avoid it in his face even though his eyes are closed classic lab safety procedures. He seems like the type to have a soothing but authoritative voice during examination, so he gets his message across. it's a bit difficult when dealing with patients for Noritoshi. If he sees them too often, he firstly scolds you for not taking care of yourself, then feels guilty for not giving you the proper care. Keep yourself safe and healthy, or else Noritoshi will clearly :( Putting him in a yandere setting would be dangerous. He'd have a lot of control over you, considering he can prescribe medication, shots, visits, and other things.... he'd have a ball.... nothing that would cause you any harm, of course. he's only looking out for you and doing what's best for you..!

Pirate!

my second in command wanted a pirate. pirates are so fucking cool and i know damn well if this guy were a pirate he'd have a bunch of battle scars under that fancy coat.

Noritoshi as a pirate would be more than a little odd, but also fitting. He looks like the type of guy who'd be well put together, yet he's willing to get his hands dirty. Like the guy who got into the pirate life because of some personal issue that couldn't be solved fast enough through conventional means. Even as a pirate, i imagine he holds everyone to high standards. They're still pirates though.. so his expected standards aren't even that high. He has more freedom here, so even he himself lets loose once or twice. Especially with you. He's even able to get away with more violent actions for you, the seas are unpredictable, after all. While taking some treasure, Noritoshi'd toss you a gem or golden coin, just so you can say you were the first to claim it. Just so he can see that happy glint in your eyes when getting your hands on treasure. God forbid anyone try to get their hands on your hard earned goods. They'd be met with a bullet to the foot or a sword at their neck. Everyone and their mother knows how you're his favorite, but Noritoshi downplays it. Its not a crime to help out someone from his crew is it? Not in the seven seas. He leans more into his cold ruthless killer side here. He has goals and people to help keep in line whether hes captain or not. Yet when around you, he's almost adorable in how he shows you a pearl so entrancing that it reminded him of you.

Corpse Bride!

my submission to my Noritoshi Halloween costume closet.. CORPSE BRIDE, THIS MOVIE FUCKS. esp w the yandere elements.

Noritoshi 100% made you recite the wedding vows to him before accepting the ring. If you fumbled up, he'd correct you with SO much attitude and expect you to start from the top until you got it perfectly.

Hypothetically, in the chalice scene towards the end..

Noritoshi is the type to never be fully relaxed unless he knows for sure you'll be eternally his. In this scenario, YOU proposed to HIM but have to die to continue being together. Not only that, but someone in the living world is also after your heart. Someone who bleeds. Someone who's the obvious choice. Someone who can give you the life that you deserve. Someone who will succeed in their pursuits if you. remain. alive. Noritoshi's life was cut short, yet he still managed to lose so much and be abandoned a considerable amount of times. When he meets you and finds out about the possibility of having to go through that again even in death, it finally clicks in his rotting mind. He realizes he's been doing something wrong to keep constantly failing. Noritoshi revises his methods to a more.. selfish course. Why should he care about anyone else's wants or how his actions hurt them? You were the only one who made him truly fulfilled, to make him feel alive. The only one who deserves anything and everything good that comes from this world. Destiny is never done toying with him when he realizes your marriage is invalid because of your pulse and his lack thereof no matter how hard he'd try, but the opportunity arises. of course, he's ecstatic to give you an afterlife worth much more than what a silly beating heart can achieve. "All people die eventually. If you miss your living family or friends, all it takes is patience, darling. I'll wait by your side in the meantime." He weighs the pros and cons of everything, but when it comes to swaying manipulating your thoughts he only highlights the ones that'll get you on his side. in this case, the pros of dying to be with him! Honestly, the answer was so obvious that Noritoshi didn't know why he was stressing about it before. It hurts him to see you in any type of pain, but he reassures both himself and you that it'll only be for a moment. Afterward, he'll have the rest of your afterlives to make it up to you!! What happened to Till Death Do Us Part? Noritoshi thinks it's insulting that something as shallow as that could be so widely accepted. If your love were true, it wouldn't stop just because the world decided to take them away. "Till death do us part? Darling, don't be silly. 'Not even death will do us part' feels much better, doesn't it?" 

[lucien-aventine]

Light Party

Ep 1 | Anxious Beginnings

The first step is always the hardest...unless you're thrown into it.

Thank you for reading! The first episode of the adventure is officially out and I couldn't be more excited to share it!

It's also on Webtoon if you prefer the format on there.

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There's just something to be said about seeing your own characters in-action vs drawing them static with a plain, white background.

Speaking of, I made Lucien's house in-game you can check out here.

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Index || 1 || Next

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · Patreon | Ko-fi | Webtoon

[clumsypuppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[likesdoodling]

I made an animatic guys! :D

[dizzybizz]

finally got around to finishing a sketch from last year 🎉🎉🎉

aug '22 -> mar '23 -> oct '23

[saturngalore]

see, you’re telling me i’m pretty but it’s obvious! 🗣️

necklaces by the amazing @yuyulie + hair by me! <3