#I say judge endearingly

[witchlingcirce]

I judge someone based on whether they wanted Simon to stay a vampire, or liked him becoming a shadowhunter 👀👀👀👀

[passthroughtime]

today i’m thinking about “different first meeting” kuwagami scenario where kuwana is acquainted with kaito beforehand, BUT not as friends, but as fuckbuddies at most. maybe, even just as a one night stand.

yagami comes to kaito’s apartment because he couldn’t reach him or something, and sees another new guy coming out of his shower; this isn’t news for him that kaito occasionally hooked up with random women and men alike, with preference in the former. yagami pays kuwana no mind and actively deflects any advances from him, thinking that kuwana sees him as another fuckbuddy of kaito. yagami doesn’t fuck around that much, and definitely isn’t in the mood to find somebody to stay the night with: they have an urgent case, and there isn’t any other thing on his mind at the moment.

while kuwana falls in love with yagami at the first sight. sure it’s weird to fall for a business partner of the guy he just fucked and isn’t going to remember for long. but, yagami is perfect, in some stupid way. kuwana says something dumb, gets rejected, and his hurting heart tells him he can’t let yagami go. he hasn’t felt this way about anyone in years.

so, he starts to hang around kaito much more frequently, they may even be called friends at some point. yagami thinks they are dating; this is the last thing kuwana wants him to think.

although, they click with each other pretty quickly; with all the annoyance, it’s fun to bicker with him, rarely being serious, picking on him and being picked on in turn. but it also frustrates yagami, because he sees that kuwana doesn’t really care about kaito (the amount he'd expect of the guy kaito is together with). while kuwana sees that yagami worries for kaito, and thinks that it’s in that way. once, he, heartbroken and losing hope, asks what yagami sees in kaito (as a possible romantic partner), but words it badly and is understood even worse. yagami falls out with kuwana, and they stop talking altogether.

yagami sulks and is very upset, because he thought they had something special going there, even if it was just a mutual interest, which wouldn’t turn into anything else. kuwana stops talking to kaito, explaining to him that it was because he couldn’t bear to be with yagami in one room when he hates him so much. his words kind of insinuate of kuwana’s feelings for yagami, but kaito doesn’t catch the hint.

some time passes, and yagami and kaito talk about kuwana. yagami says that he regrets so much cutting kuwana off from his life. kaito remembers what kuwana said, tells it to yagami as word for word as he could remember, and though he doesn’t understand what’s wrong, yagami sees kuwana’s message clearly.

yagami can’t reach him by his number (it’s out of service), so he comes to his house in ijincho. he isn’t home, but yagami waits for him. approaching his house, kuwana sees him sitting on the steps and asks, “did you not cuss me enough?” and everything he says is openly antagonizing. yagami tries to talk to him calmly, but with time kuwana, unyielding, starts to piss him off. yagami says something along, “and here i thought you’d want me to apologize to you” and storms out the house with an intention to drink this anger away and come back.

kuwana isn’t able to stop him (when he tries, yagami punches him in the nose so hard kuwana sees stars, and it starts bleeding), but he finds him leaning on the railing in the nearby parking lot, with cheep beer in his hands. “you didn’t escape far. feeling guilty?”, kuwana asks, meaning his injury. “yes,” yagami answers, meaning the argument that lead them to stop talking with each other.

kuwana asks to share his beer with him, to which yagami complies, and jokes about them having an indirect kiss. “so childish,” yagami says, “we are long past the age of indirect kisses.” “do you want an ‘adult’ kiss?” kuwana jokingly asks, falling into their playful type of talking naturally. “yes,” yagami answers, and kuwana hears no ridicule in turn. he kisses him and tries to say that he wanted to kiss him for as long as they know each other.

“i knew that all this time,” yagami interrupts him, “but i didn’t want a kiss from somebody who isn’t serious about it.” after kuwana’s question of what has changed, yagami answers, “because now i also know you want more from me than this, or sex, or whatever. makes kissing you a lot less disgusting.” kuwana laughs, and yagami steals this sound with another kiss.

[talesofesther]

a touch of emotion

Connor x Reader

Summary: After the meeting with Kamski, Connor feels conflicted and lost, luckily you're there to hold his hand through it.

A/N: DBH is one of my main comfort games, and it was about time I wrote a little something for my favorite boy from it. If anyone would like to see more of Connor here, let me know. <3

Masterlist

"Why didn't you shoot?" Hank inquires, narrowing his eyes inquisitively.

"I just saw that girl's eyes… And I couldn't…" Connor answers back, his voice edging on desperate. "That's all."

A howling wind prickles your skin like tiny needles. It was such a cold day, no wonder you hadn't been keen on coming out here today. Leaning back on the hood of Hank's car and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, you watch from afar as Connor tries to justify his choice, even if it had been the right one to make.

He intrigues you. Because for someone who keeps saying he's just a machine trying to accomplish a task, he acts way more human than a lot of people you know. Even on the day you'd met him, he was already all curious and talkative, you couldn't recall meeting any android like him before.

Connor has changed ever since you started working together, you realize it now more than ever. He's becoming softer, personality starting to shine through the cracks as his decisions become increasingly emotionally driven.

"Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant."

Kamski's words echoed inside your mind, as did Connor's panicked and distressed expression when he promptly denied it. Ironic, you think to yourself; he shouldn't feel as troubled as he does if what Kamski said is not true.

And that same feeling now lingers. Once they were done talking, Hank took a few steps away to make a call, most likely to the precinct judging by the scowl on his face; and Connor can't stand still, he's pacing around, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blazer as the snow shifts under his feet. There's a permanent frown on his eyebrows, he looks almost… lost, his LED with an insistent yellow color and gaze unfocused on the distance.

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, torn between reaching out to him or keeping to yourself. The snow falls heavier now, and you can feel the tips of your fingers slowly going numb. You've always liked the cold, yet it seems the cold doesn't like you.

Between the snow, the frozen lake, and the white horizon of the frigid weather, Connor stands out. He's holding onto his own arms, hugging himself, and you find it endearingly human, as if he's subconsciously trying to find a way to comfort himself.

You lay your palms flat on the hood of the car and push yourself away, walking up to him before you can think things through. The snow crunching under your feet doesn't seem to call his attention. "Connor?" You say gently, reaching out to him with your hand but stopping short of actually touching him. You hesitate. When did he start making you nervous?

"You okay?"

Those warm and tender brown eyes of his regard you with curiosity, lips half parted as he struggles on what to say. The LED on his temple switched from blue to yellow and blue again. "I- yes. I think I'm fine." Snowflakes are clinging to his hair and falling softly onto the skin of his cheeks; they compliment his features, always so gentle.

You offer him a small, comforting smile. He's still figuring himself out. It was okay, you were patient.

"I'm… sorry," Connor begins again, avoiding looking you directly in the eyes. He purses his lips and closes his eyes for a moment longer, and you doubt you've ever seen any android be this expressive.

"I compromised our investigation," he pauses, "I should have been more efficient." And reprimands himself.

You're shaking your head before he's even done talking. "No, don't say that," you take a step closer to him as your heart holds your reasoning hostage, one hand wrapping around Connor's wrist to keep him with you. "Don't say that when you've made the right choice, Connor."

There was a beat, Connor's face does something complicated that you cannot read, and when he looks up at you again, his gaze is almost too much. The amount of emotion he looked at you with nearly made you choke on air.

"But… we didn't learn anything." His voice is quiet, barely there, as if he doesn't care for his own argument and is only looking for an excuse to hear more of your voice.

"I don't care," the words fall from your lips before you can debate if you should even be saying them out loud at all.

Connor seems surprised, caught off guard as his eyebrows raise just slightly at how fast and true you spoke. His eyes keep searching your face for… something. You couldn't be sure of what exactly he was looking for. Maybe even he doesn't know yet.

Your heart stumbles on your chest when you see Connor gulping and his eyes avoiding yours again. Only then do you realize that the hand you held his wrist with had drifted lower, your fingers now gently grazing his palm. His skin feels comfortingly warm and soft, a pleasant touch sending goosebumps down your spine.

It was all foreign territory to him, you knew it, felt it in the way he tried timidly closing his fingers around your own. His movements are slow, uncertain, and tentative, bordering on afraid.

How naive of you, to be having such feelings for an android. Yet when he's the most caring, honest, endearing, and gentle person you know, how could you not?

Hank told you once; "I think you're breaking our android huh." He'd said it right after Connor had gone through the trouble of finding an umbrella just so you didn't have to stand under the heavy rain, even if you tried telling him you didn't mind. And you'd taken it as a joke back then, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind your older partner's teasing look.

Yet as you hold onto Connor's hand now, feeling the way his thumb shyly brushes your skin, you wonder if he feels it too, if he's willing to feel the same as you do. If you could dare to hope.

"All I care about," you speak slow and careful, syllables heavy on your tongue. You clear your throat so your voice doesn't sound as tender as you feel. "is that… that you didn't let him manipulate you, that you followed your heart." You bring your free hand up to his chest, right on top of where you can faintly feel his thirium pump working overtime.

Connor looked to be about to speak, perhaps to try and correct you about your choice of words, yet all he does is open and close his mouth, eyes trained on yours and LED swirling with a permanent yellow color. For a moment you wonder if he's analyzing you, and worry about what he may find. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly; you don't think he realizes he's doing it.

"I'm glad you didn't pull the trigger, Connor. I'm proud of you."

It's barely a second, his LED flashing red before going back to yellow and eventually, slowly, blue; but you see it. He blinked a couple of times as if processing your words or how to feel about them.

"I-" Connor's eyes seem hazy, their tender brown only a thin ring around his blown pupils. His fingers now tangle with yours. "I feel-"

"Alright kids, let's go." Hank's voice sounds all too loudly as he unintentionally breaks the bubble that cocooned you and Connor. "Fowler wants us back in the precinct." The lieutenant speaks with an annoyed undertone as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket.

You're still caught up in the feeling of Connor's skin on yours, in how you're now so hyper-aware of just how close he's standing to you. Connor, it seems, isn't much different.

When there's no answer, Hank finally looks your way and gestures you over; "come on, get a move on, I don't wanna hear another lecture about arriving late," he insists, before plopping himself into the driver's seat, murmuring something about damn love-birds.

Despite the cold, you can feel a warmth coming up to your cheeks. Without mustering the courage to meet Connor's gaze, you focus on the way his hand fits so perfectly with yours. His fingers are awkwardly intertwined with yours, holding strong and gentle at the same time.

Connor seems reluctant to let go. It hits you that perhaps he won't. You could dwell on a thousand reasons of why, or not think at all and simply bask in the feeling. But right now time isn't on your side.

You take a deep breath, and risk a glance up at him.

Any words you were about to say suddenly feel clogged up in your throat. Oh, Connor tilts his head in that endearing way you're so fond of, yet the look in his eyes is one you've never caught before; you can't name it, it feels dangerous to try, but he looks as if he just realized something.

"Come on," you tug on his hand, just about managing the timid words, "we have to go."

Connor follows quietly, his hand steady on yours until you reach the car and are forced to part.

As Hank drives, you watch Connor through the rearview mirror; there's a newfound lightness to him, a warmth to his eyes that makes you feel fuzzy inside. And when he catches your gaze, and smiles, you know he feels it too.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Connor’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

[stars-eclipsing]

someone on twt said one of the variants had a slave kink, so I ran with it.

Tags: Use of restrictions, bdsm, sub and dom dynamics (not heavy), sub!mark obviously, stoplight system used, sounding, uhh i think thats it idk Word count: 4.5k (no comment)

I wanted to make something that was entertaining yet simultaneously sexy, so I hope that worked!

This work is inspired by this picture! Show some love, the artist is amazing!! (I wanted to include the thong but I didn't really know how to. Plus, it was already getting a lot and i got overwhelmed So, uh... *audience boos*)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The chain above Mark rattles when he pulls on it. The metal is thick and mounted to the ceiling far above. (courtesy of him) So it's pretty secure, he’d say; and nothing really feels wrong… so why was he just a tiny bit scared? 

From across the room, you fiddle with some objects in a smooth black box. You're broken out of your concentration when you hear him twist and squirm. 

You spare him a glance, raising a brow, “...‘You doing okay over there?” 

Mark pulls on the chain again, furrowing his brows at it in thought, “Shouldn’t it be stronger?” He lifts his head at an awkward angle to look at you, “I mean— you know I could break out of this easily, right?” 

You pick up the box and walk over to him, setting it on the bed for later. Then, you look down on him, trying to get a good look at his current state. At the inspection, he feels his face growing slightly pink. 

“That’s not the point.” You cross your arms, looking into his eyes, “You’re not my hostage, Mark. That’s the idea. You’re purposefully relinquishing control over to me, so you can feel good.” You tilt your head,

“Got it?” 

“Uh–” He looks at you with a blush across his face then nods slowly, swallowing, “Um, yeah. I think I got it.” 

You smile nicely, playing with the thin, silky belt of your robe,  “Good.” 

Mark’s eyes immediately land on the black silk, focused on the way your fingers teasinging go over it, “So…” He looks back at you with a smirk, “Am I the only one that’s gonna be undressed here, or…?” He teases, but you can tell he’s nervous. 

You do believe that a healthy dosage of nervousness and…fear is good. Even advisable. But, Mark seems to be far too on edge. And, well, we can’t have that, can we? 

And so, you decide that now’s a time as ever to show a little sweetness. You crouch down to his level, mustering the most disarming look you can and whisper, “Just be patient.” You use your fingers to gently trace the skin below his briefs, and you feel the strong muscle beneath flex. At the sight, you hum in approval. “You can do that, right? Be good and patient?” You splay your hand over his stomach, looking directly into his eyes, “So you can have nice things.” 

His eyes flit away nervously under your gaze, and he wants to run away, feeling overwhelmed already. But he stays put. “Yes.” 

“Hmm? Yes, what?” 

“Um…yes…ma’am?” 

You giggle, tapping his hip, “Good boy.” Then stand up to look through the box on the bed. 

He groans, trying to cover his face with his forearms, “This is so not okay.” His voice cracks endearingly in the middle of the sentence. Thank god Mark can’t see your face right now, because you’re trying to suppress a laugh. And if he sees you laughing at him, he may actually run. 

From the mysterious black box, you take out a thin wand. It’s silver and metallic, with a sizable ball at the end. On the rod itself are variously sized balls. It’s very pretty and dainty in your opinion. It suits Mark in that regard.

Inside the box is another rod. Except, this one has a lithe tip that thickens as it goes down. It's painted a dull black, and looks far meaner. But you can’t judge a book by its cover, only by how good it’ll feel inside of Mark. You hold the silver one in your hand and look at the black one. 

Decisions, decisions…

However, your train of thought is cut off by a wobbly voice down below, “Babe!” Mark whines from the cushion on the floor, you look behind your shoulder to see a very pink and pouty Mark Grayson. He sighs when he sees your reasonably unimpressed face. A face that his ego does not take lightly. However, his hot head between his legs seems to trump the one between his shoulders. “Don't take too long, it's weird being here all by myself…” He looks away, “I want you here with me.” He mumbles that last part.

You’d chastise him for neglecting the first rule you’d told him only a mere minute ago, but you internally (and perhaps graciously) decide to forgive him because he does look like he’s going to melt… And a sad Mark does make you sad…

Alright then, lightwork. Just decide quickly, by using clever Jean-Paul Sarte’s decision-making philosophy. You believe it went something like…

Eenie… meenie… minie… moe…

There we go. Silver one it is. 

To avoid scaring the trembling kitty at your feet, you place it outside of his line of view when you sit back down between his legs. He doesn’t even notice, more attentive to the fact that you’re here with him.

As a reward for being so (im)patient with you, you lean down to place a kiss on Mark’s lips. However, you stop just a few centimeters away from his mouth to watch how he chases after your lips. It’s cruel, but can anyone blame you? It’s endearing.

You hold his warm face as you kiss him, and he kisses you back in earnest. Even though needy and fidgety, Mark takes his time to suck on the supple flesh of your lips before escalating, which you highly approve of. You make sure he knows that by running your right hand slowly down his body, landing just below his waist. Your index finger teasingly pulls on the waistband of his briefs, and Mark backs away from your mouth to huff. Above the both of you, you hear his chains clatter together as he instinctively tries to touch you too. He groans in your mouth when he realizes he’s restricted. How cute. 

His bottom lip juts out and you already hear the complaint on the tip of his tongue. So, you decide to distract him from his neediness by alleviating it. Your kiss-bitten lips lean down to his jaw to begin to place kisses along it. You make your way down his neck, making sure to suck a hickey at the base of it. 

He shivers at the hot, wet contact of your tongue with his sensitive neck. Instinctively, he groans and throws his head back, which is all the better for you. 

You lick, suck, kiss, bite along his neck. A pleasure for you as you feel butterflies burst in your stomach. You glance up to see his flushed face, biting his lip. You can’t help the smirk that grows on your face at the sight. You blink up at him through your lashes, enamoured by how genuinely beautiful he is. But that only embarasses him, making him flush and hide his face in his bicep. 

You can’t help but laugh at the sight, crawling just a little further so you’re face-to-face with him. 

“Maaark,” You say musically, nosing at his cheek. He ‘Hmm?’’s

This is the usual routine. But sweet Mark, bless him, can’t seem to put two and two together. 

Your hand slips beneath his briefs slowly, and he immediately jerks, pulling on the chain hard in a bout of nerves. Your eyes flit up instinctively to where it's mounted on the ceiling, but it hasn't budged. Your baby boy is so handy, it makes your heart swell. You kiss his hot cheek to try and soothe the overwhelming feeling. You feel his rapidly beating heart against yours. A wild BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, hammering against his ribs. His heart echoes its language to yours, and you try your best to cradle it safely in your arms. 

“Mark…” You whisper, kissing his cheek. You keep your face pressed to his, “I love you.” 

His breath is a little ragged, but he responds anyway. Like he always does. “I love you too–!” 

He ends the declaration in a groan as you gently stroke the base of his hard cock. You kiss the corner of his lips, keeping the soft, careful pace. He huffs loudly, his lungs shallowly trying to take in air as you wrap your arm around the base of him with two nimble fingers. 

He lets out an “Oh!”, and his breath doesn't calm down. You kiss his pretty, flushed lips a few times. “Okay?” You  ask, then correct yourself when he doesn’t respond, “Green?” 

Despite the fact that he looks like he’s in complete agony, he sniffs and nods, “G-Green. Don’t stop, okay? Please.” He shuts his eyes and bucks his hips into your touch, making you gasp softly, “I wanna cum so bad.” He whines. 

Oh, Viltrumites. Ever so sensitive you are. 

Your lucky pretty little Mark over here has stamina, or you would have never let him orgasm this fast in a million years. You can’t just have everything you want just because you have a pretty face, you know? 

You grip the base of his cock, and he throws his head back, moaning. You use your other hand to lower his briefs, then wrap around his length brutishly without a care. He whimpers at the harsh contact, the left side of his hips lifting. But you know he likes it that way. He’s so darling. 

“I hope the message is clear:” Your hot breath against his face makes him whimper, “You can cum, but I won’t be nice about it. Do we have a deal, bunny?” 

The pretty nickname makes him groan breathily, and he nods furiously. “Deal. Deal– oh, deal. Oh please, please, PLEASE–” 

You move at the animalistic pace you promised him. With every stroke upwards, your fingers pay a harsh visit to his head by squeezing, making him choke. You no longer concern yourself with his cries, his “please” ‘s, or the chains threatening to break from the ceiling that it is mounted to. All you care about is delivering his wish. 

However, his fidgeting is a problem. You bring your legs to hold back both his thighs. But his strength, of course, overwhelms you, no matter how delirious he may be. Your lower half ends up jostling around as you try to calm him like you would a wild steed. But if this one decides to become good, then maybe you won’t need a whip after all. 

You feel it in the way that his hip stutters that he’s close. In the way that he babbles, “Love you, love you, love you–”

He bucks his hips forward one last time and he cums hard, screaming. His release spills onto his stomach, his thighs, and tarnishes the perfect black silk of your robe. Not that you mind one bit. 

He breathes heavily into your neck, trying to come back to Earth. You stroke his soft black hair as he does, and kiss his forehead. 

You kiss the tip of his nose and decide to ask a silly question. “Mark,” “Hmm?” He says softly. “What are you?” 

His mouth is slightly open, and his eyes are glazed over. He squints his eyes, and his brows furrow as he tries to think about what you want him to say, “U-Um… your pet?” 

You laugh at the sweet answer, “Yes. But also something else.” 

Overwhelmed and overstimulated, his cock weeps for him as he tries to think, “Mmm- ah– Umm…” 

You sit up on your haunches and undo the fastens of your sultry robe, deciding it was time to reveal the mini-surprise, since the poor silk was already filthy. 

It slips from out of your arms and lands on the floor, revealing an even more seductive black lingerie. Lace lines the cup of the bra and where it ends thinly below your hips. It connects to a pair of garters on your thighs and ends at the long, sheer black thigh highs. 

Evil, but make it sexy. 

You smile down at him, “The answer is mine.” 

You move your hair out of your face to see Mark’s face, and it’s nothing short of awestruck. His mouth hangs open, and the glaze in his eyes clear as he tries to focus on the view in front of him. You think you see some drool escape his pink lips, but you’re more focused on the silver rod you hold in your hand, something Mark is not. 

His cock twitches, and he makes a small sound at the back of his throat. Then, he reels it in to form a sentence, “Was all that just-just foreplay or something?” He asks nervously, but with the way the corner of his lip twitches upwards, you suspect he can handle it. 

You smirk, “It can be anything you like.” You position your legs on either side of his abdomen, then lower to a kneel, right above your most beloved part of him, (other than his big, loving heart) his well-defined abs. Just looking at them makes you groan. 

Deciding you want his undivided attention, you blink pretty eyes at him as he looks up at you with an unsure, but needy expression. You already feel his dick come to life once again from behind you. It makes you shiver.

“Do you want a show, Mark?” You move the suit's crotch to the side, teasingly slow. His eyes are trained on the area between your thighs, focused and unblinking. 

“Yes–” His sentence cuts off awkwardly, and he looks up at you, “Please.” Noticing the way you slightly raise your eyebrows, he adds, “Ma’am.” 

You send an approving smile his way, and he shakily smiles back. 

“Well, you haven’t been on your best behavior…” His stomach tenses from underneath you, and his throat tightens up, “But…” You smile, “You did your best. But just know that won’t be enough next time. I expect perfect. Isn’t that right?” 

He immediately nods, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Though it stings, he’s thankful for your leniency. 

“Besides, you’re my good boy.” You hum, then move the thin fabric to the side, exposing your dripping core. He gasps instantly at the sight, then lets out a needy sound at the back of his throat. Your entrance pulses at the intense gaze it’s receiving, which just makes Mark swallow, “So, you’re allowed to be spoiled every once in a while, right?” 

He nods, licking his lips, “Yes.” He looks up at you with his pretty doe eyes, “Yes, please. Thank you.” 

At his blatant display of eagerness, you can’t help but drag your free hand between your folds, making you moan in satisfaction. Mark flexes beneath you at that. 

You circle your clit lithely, trying not to excite yourself too much too early. Not everyone can go on like a Viltrumite. “You know, Mark,” His eyes snap up to your own, hanging to your every word with obscenely rapt attention, “I may need some help.” He bites his bottom lip with a groan. You bite your own to stifle a giggle. 

You continue to circle leisurely at your clit. Seductively, you whisper, “Can you help me, Mark?” 

You hear the chains above you rattle and clatter from above you immediately. He seemed to have forgotten the constraints and wanted to lunge to you, but was only able to lift his upper body slightly. Once he realizes the cause of his failed attempt, he looks up at the chains with a deep frown and furrowed brows, suddenly wishing he could break it into a million tiny pieces. 

Then, he directs his unimpressed gaze to you, trying to garner sympathy by whining your name pathetically, “Please?” He pulls on them lightly, “Off?”

You snort, then slip a finger just between your folds, but not going further. Simply teasing your entrance. Mark is back to his entranced stare without needing to be told twice, mesmerized by the way the tip of your finger immediately slicks up from your wetness. 

Saliva pools in his mouth, and he swallows it before he speaks, “Please– I can help—” 

You both gasp when your finger slips in your entrance, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Your thumb comes forward to begin circling your clit. You struggle to time the thrusts with the way you tease your clit. But after a few seconds, you capture it perfectly, enunciated by the way you moan louder. 

“You like this, Mark?” You huff, looking down at his enraptured face, his jaw agape into an ‘o’ shape, “See what you do to me? This is all you. You make me so fucking horny, know that?” He whines at your filthy words, and pulls on the chains. His pretty pink face nods, wanting to close his eyes shut but not wanting to miss a second. 

“Y-You said I could help.” He begs with a flex of his hip, bucking up into the air. You bring your hand down to the side of your hip. 

“Control yourself,” You pull your finger out, it’s wet and covered in the scent of your essence. You lower yourself down on his abdomen, making him gasp. You moan softly, the feeling of his chiseled stomach against your sensitive clit making your pussy clench. You gently rock yourself on him, the movement making your sight heady with lust, and all you can see is Mark below you, panting like a dog. You bring your hand to his chest, “And you can help.” 

You grind yourself against his abdomen, with no intention of coming anytime soon. Only to arouse yourself further. You need to be as wet as possible for what you want to do. 

But Mark feels so good. Not to mention, his wanton whimpers and moans only boost your pleasure. His hip still jerks and flexes from beneath your hand, his dick wanting to be touched and played with desperately, but he doesn’t dare voice it. You don’t even think he notices with how hard he’s staring at your soaking wet entrance. 

You feel your head get lost in the momentary pleasure. The feeling of wanting to come suddenly bursting in your stomach, and you have to physically shake your head to clear it of its wanton haze. Aimlessly, your other hand scrambles to the sounding rod next to you. Mark swallows audibly and makes a dizzy ‘Huh?’ sound, but you pay it no mind. 

You will yourself to concentrate as you angle the silver wand to insert it between your folds, the ball of it to the front of your crotch, close to your clit where your fingers hold it in place. You look down to see a speechless Mark. You can practically see his empty brain try to form a cognizant thought as he tries to register what it is you’re doing. 

You move the handle of it forward slowly, the balls on the wand glide through your folds and your clit with slicked ease, making you gasp. It steadily comes out the other side, in plain view of Mark. He angles his head even further forward to take a good look at it. It’s already gleaming with the beautiful sight of your wetness. His mouth falls open further, his tongue threatening to loll out, and his cock throbs. 

He whines your name as he stares at the wand, suddenly painfully aware of how jealous he is of it. Mindlessly, he only lightly pulls on the chain, subconsciously realizing that his effort is futile, since he is not going anywhere anytime soon. Just a reflex.

“You like it?” You smile, turning it so the light catches on the slicked metal, “I picked it out for you. I thought you’d think it was pretty.” 

“U-Um— What?” He says intelligently, having not heard a word you said. 

In that case, you decide to go for a more physical approach, taking his jaw and angling it downwards to look at nothing but the silver wand and your cunt. You make it pass backwards again quickly, and you almost choke on the feeling. 

“I said– Do you like it?” You bear through the pleasure-pain to bring it back forwards in front of him, so he can take a decent look. You feel a glob of his spit drip down your thumb. 

He nods quickly, trying his best to get into your good graces, “I like it, like you.” He blabbers. 

“Do you know what it is?” 

He nods immediately again, his eyes glazed over and his expression drilled in on your wet core. Wet for him, wet ‘cause of him, love him, you love him, gonna fucking come— His dick twitches at his train of thought, and it bleeds precum insistently. He blinks and tries his very best to answer you, “Suh- So- Me?” He replies astutely.

You hold onto his shoulders, digging your nails into the firm, strong muscle, he groans, “Yea, you want it? You wanna use it after me?” 

His mouth falls open, the flush that encapsulates his face reaches down to his chest. His hip involuntarily bucks forward sharply. He whines when the motion does not reward him with any stimulation. 

Drool freely escapes his mouth as he watches the wand– the wand that’s going to be inside of him, drip with your wetness. Your slick coats the entire rod, and he shivers at the obscene sight of it– at the– at the future implications of, of–

You glide the wand through your folds and simultaneous reach behind to stroke the underside of his painfully hard dick. You both moan wantonly at the same time. 

His biceps strain desperately against the chains. He can’t do it, he can’t do it. He needs to touch– kiss, bite– 

He feels a wetness at the head of his cock, and he gasps, taken aback by its coolness. You move to sit on his strong, thick thighs, circling the head of the wand along the head of his dick gently. Occasionally, you ‘accidentally’ swipe it along the slit of his head. 

“Ah– mmm, Hah– B-Baby?” His firm thighs flex beneath you, but he’s thankful for the comforting weight as his face watches the wand move dangerously close to the hole of his urethra. 

You move it daintily across the side of him, his muscular thigh jolts upwards but you can tell he’s trying his best to control himself for you, so you don’t get hurt. Aww. 

You move the thin tip directly on his dick’s slit, he whimpers. 

“Do you want it, pretty baby?” You insert a centimeter in, he moans, then back out, “Hm, what do you say? I got it all lubed up for you, you know.” 

He nods like he’s mad, “Please, please, I wan’ it.” 

He sniffs, confused on whether to watch the wand inch closer to his dick or the way your body looks in that skimpy lingerie. He whines, feeling agitated and overwhelmed. 

Luckily for him, you don’t think twice before you lower the rod into his welcoming hole. He gasps, his face lowering to the sight, barely an inch in. He squirms, suddenly hyper aware and very vigilant. 

You look up at him, when you find his eyes zeroed in on the sight of the textured wand slightly inside of him. You directly ask, “Green?” 

He blinks, drunk on the sight and the feeling, “Yea.” He fidgets, “So green.” 

You continue to lower the rod down slowly, and the first ball inserts inside of him, and he sighs, satisfied as it moves against his insides. Using the chains to help him, he sits up a little more and seeks your lips. 

You grant it to him, sucking on his bottom lip gingerly. You continued to push the rod down, and the feeling of the tiny spheres moving inside of him was starting to make him antsy, his thighs jutting and flexing insistently. But he still kisses you back, albeit sloppily. You keep going, inching the silver rod further into him. 

He breaks the kiss with the gasp when the entire thing is inside of him, the handle jutting out. 

He pants, trying to get accustomed to the feeling of something so…big inside somewhere as sensitive as his dick. He didn’t think it's that big, especially not when you were playing with it, but now, it feels huge. 

You hum at the sight, and don't bother to push it back when his hole slowly tries to push it out. You say the first thing that comes to mind, “You would look very pretty with a dick piercing.” 

He grows bashful, despite the fact that he’s fully naked in front of you with a rod you’ve shoved up his cock, “Uh, really?” He says hesitantly, “Well, uh maybe I’ll get one? If you like it, I mean…” 

You laugh at his nervousness, holding the handle between three fingers, “Yeah. Why not?” You say airily, throwing him off before pull at the handle quickly, leaving only one ball inside of his painfully hard cock. He gasps, letting out a shaky moan as he pants. 

“O-Ow! I'm– sensitive, you know.” He pouts at you. 

You chuckle deliriously, “You’re beautiful.” You push the wand completely back in, deep inside of his cock, then back out, letting the texture on the rod do its magic. 

Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out, in, out, in, Out In Out In Out In–

Mark screams, squeezing his eyes shut as the feeling waahes over him, eating him whole. He digs the heels of his feet onto the floorboards, and you hear a snap, snap, snap. 

You don't concern yourself with the chains that rattle above you wildly as Mark tries to control what, when, and why. His head rolls back and forth quickly, trying to alleviate the feeling, but it just makes it worse. 

“Hah— Cum.” He says haphazardly, bucking his hips forward to match your thrusts “‘m gonna, cu-ahm!” He feels himself scream so loud, he wonders if the entire neighborhood could hear. 

You grip his shoulder with one hand, digging your fingernails in, “Mhm, yeah, gonna cum?” You thrust the wand faster into his pretty cock, “Cum pretty baby, do it.” 

He pants and nods, obeying you. He meets the wand at the exact moment you shove it back inside of him, entering him excruciatingly deep, and he cries. He cries as he cums, he cries when you quickly pull out the wand to watch the way his release paints his stomach and thighs. 

A few more weak spurts come out of his twitchy cock, and he whimpers. 

You look at your sticky, dirty hands, and a dizzy chuckle comes over you. You instinctively put a finger into your mouth and suck, tasting his semen

At the sight, Mark moans, “Ah, shit.” You look up at him, and a loud clash is heard. He breaks free of his chains and lunges at you, toppling over you on the floor. You fall with an audible oomph. 

He kisses at your jaw, and you feel his hard dick against your thigh. In that moment, he plays cheeky and uses your own words against you, “Wanna cum?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: For those of you who are curious, the quote by Jean-Paul Satre is: "Man is nothing else but what he makes himself." i.e. that our decisions create our own essence. so thats a quick philosophy fact to impress your co workers ;)

Funnily enough, I spent an indecent amount of time trying to decide between Friedrich Nietzsche and Jean-Paul. Then, I realized that 1) Not everyone is a philosophy major, or into existentialism, so they wouldn't give a fuck who that even is. 2) Even if they were, they still wouldn't give a fuck because its literally bdsm smut. Talk about a reality check!

This took a while so I hope its up to par... ugh.

Hope you all enjoyed <3 mwah

[captain-huggy-bear]

i need kiefer being his confident and kinda cocky self but with his girl he melts so fast and is so soft and sweet to her

Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

"Hey, Kief! Fucking goal scorer!"

"Fuck, yeah I am!"

You hear him before you see him. He's loud and cocky, confidence riding his tone like it was made to be there. He's riding a high after scoring a natural hat trick, 3 consecutive goals that saw him helping the team to a solid 6 goal victory over the Sharks.

When you finally turn the corner to the locker room his back is to you, but you can already tell he's grinning, shoulders pressed back, chest puffed out, a level of cocky confidence that might well be hard to beat. He's bumping fists with his team mates, laughing and hollering back at them as they congratulate him on a hat trick.

The moment Petey points you out to him though? The moment he turns to see you stood there waiting for him, watching him while your fingers twist together anxiously? The moment that happens all that cockiness fades away, a soft smile replacing the overly exuberant grin that had been on his face. His voice lowers from the loud tenor it had been, softening at the sight of you.

"Hey, sweetheart." The way he talks to you is so much softer than before, any trace of that cockiness gone in favour of gentle, softness that surrounds you and cocoons you in warmth.

He bridges the distance between you in a few long strides, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you against his chest until your chin rests in the centre to look up at him. Kiefer is all soft smiles, eyes half-lidded and crinkled as he blinks down at you softly. No trace of the Kiefer from before left, just your Kiefer, the gentle one, the soft one, the one that holds your hair back when you're sick and rubs your belly when you have cramps.

"I'm so proud of you, Kief." You watch the way his brow furrows up, the way he chokes up at your words because fuck, he just wants you to be proud of him, that's really all that matters. He could care less what anyone else thought about him and his game, so long as his girl was proud of him.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm, you did amazing out there, baby."

If it had been one of the guys, anyone but you, his response would be cocky, 'of course I did'. But, not with you. With you the tips of his ears grow red and his eyes shift away from yours, a little bit shy, a little bit bashful, before he looks back at you.

"Thanks, sweetheart...means a lot." Kief's hands find your back pockets, pulling you tight against him as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, to your temple, your forehead, like you're the one whose scored 3 goals tonight, not the other way around.

"What do you want as a reward?" You expect him to say his favourite cheat meal or to watch a movie he loves but you hate. Instead he leans down to your ear, whispering like he's worried the guys will hear, maybe a little self-conscious, a little embarrassed about his request.

"If I say head scratches will you judge me, princess?" It's whispered so low that had his lips not been right by your ear you doubt you'd have heard it.

"You want me to play with your hair?" It's so endearingly simple of a request, to have your fingers in his hair, nails scratching his head and neck, something he loves but rarely asks for, always so focused on you and your needs first.

"...Yeah..."

"Okay." You don't dwell on it, sensing his discomfort, his embarrassment. You just kiss his chin and reassuring him in a simple way that yes, that's fine, yes, that's okay, yes, he's okay with you.

Because at the end of the day your Kief is soft and sweet and loves your hands in his hair and loves resting his cheek against your belly as you cuddle. Your Kief is the gentlest giant, a man who makes hit after hit on the ice but melts like a popsicle on a hot day when he's around you.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I'm treading water and so is BL

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2025 Week 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

Your Sky (Sun iQIYI) ep 12 end - I love this show so much.  So sweet. I adored it when Rak (FINALLY!) took the initiative! 

Conclusion

As pulps go this is right up there with my favorite if all time, My Ride, but for different less complex reasons. This is a relatively simple, old school, endearingly soft story of a fake relationship between a sunshine sweetie and an older reserved rich kid who slowly fall in love. Its soft gentle low-stakes leans into everything I personally love about Thai BL. It’s a warm fuzzy robe of a show. 9/10 

ThamePo (Fri YT) ep 9 of 12 - Thame is the poutyest of pouty babies. I love the ribbing that he got from his group the next morning (that wasn't). That said when we got a kiss it was a VERY GOOD kiss. This is a very me truly great show that I’m enjoying so much. 

The Boy Next World (Sun IQIYI) ep 5 of 10 - I really can’t fault the chemistry with this pair. From kissing to making out they're awesome at ALL OF it. I like the twist (that there is not parallel world jsut the edge of insanity). It's delusional and sus and obsessive and very "seme who missed his meet cute with his uke" and is being forced by a narrative to fast forward. So 90s yaoi. Can Mame push this edge in the right way? Doubtful. But BossNoeul will make it fun for us to watch no matter how questionably messy it gets.

(Yes, there IS a "right way.")

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - fun penultimate episode.

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT) ep 15 of 24 - It's fine. Even cute. I think I like PerthSanta better than ForceBook but I really want the next pair the most. 

Sangmin Dinneaw (Sun iQIYI) ep 6 of 10 - Enter my least favorite trope of all time, the amnesia trope. Also random doctor couple. This show is nothing if not erratic. 

Flirt Milk (Sat YT) ep 3 or 10 - ugh

Ossan‘s Love Thailand (Mon YouTube) ep 5 of 12 - Is this punishment for how good Cherry Magic Thailand was?

Gelboys (Weds iQIYI) ep 1 of 7 - it started but I didn't realize so I'll catch up next week.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

When it Rains it Pours (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - I adore them so much, these two sad desperate horny cheating boys. Lube! Argh. Please! The stark lack of affection in this show is about as dry and painful as the sex must have been. But, its all very tense and I kinda love it's minimalistic angst. 

Eternal Butler (Taiwan Fri Gaga) eps 8 of 12 - what a pity, just throwing away that cute color matched BDSM set. Ever 4 is SO CUTE when he smiles, but he would have been cuter smiling and holding that red bullwhip.

Heart Stain (Korea Weds IQIYI) eps 1-2 of 8 - I like it! It’s Korea doing its all-time favorite trope, the love triangle, but an interesting take. One boy is in love with his teacher but his best friend is in love with him. Let the drama commence.

Impression of Youth (Taiwan Weds Viki) eps 5 of 9 - Such a great brother relationship! My goodness the courage on that kid. Also, they jumped into the sack fast, even for Taiwan.

Fight for Love (Vietnam YT) ep 1 - A new VBL that is actually quite fluffy and charming. It is extremely lightweight but I’m enjoying that aspect. I like Vietnamese comedy more than Thai, I think.

Checkered Shirt (Korea YT) ep 1 of 8 - From the same people sho did Seoul Blues. I like it but this studio isn't vested in HEA so I'm wary. 

FC Soldout (Korea Thurs iQIYI) eps 1-4 of 8 - Huh. Interesting. The premise is kinda fun, even if (you know me) I never like obsessed fans. Creeps me out. That said, everyone is surprisingly gay for a KBL - like gay GAY. I know that’s a weird thing for me to say in a BL, but Korea is usually awfully het about their BL.

Anygay, of course I already like the side couple best. The gruff team captain and the pretty idol with a sad past win. WIN WIN. Give me an entire show about them please.

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 18 of 20 - (the end is in sight, but sheesh!) it was OK because mostly it was all the friends over at the house and doing stuff together. But still not a lot is happening.

It's airing but......

I Will Turn Back Time (China Gaga) 6 eps - It’s Chinese, no idea if it will end well or not. But it’s the stepbrothers trope. Still, I’m not gonna watch it until it’s done.

In Case You Missed it

End of year wraps are here!

2024 Trend Report

MY BEST & WORST BLs of 2024

Best Kisses (and sex scenes) of 2024

BL's 2024 Quirky Awards

2024 Awards - Quick Picks

Next Week Looks Like This:

Like last week we already in the middle, I promise I should be back on schedule soon. You'll get you calander image then.

2/14 Exclusive Love (Taiwan Gaga) trailer - Shy aspiring singer inherits funeral business.

2/14 The Last Time (Thailand WeTV) trailer - from 2024, not sure about this one, looks dark.

2/21 Bali Hai (Thailand ????) no MDL listing, only rumors, unsure on deets.

2/27 Secret Relationships (Korea iQIYI) - Stars Wei's Kim Jun Seo. Adapted by Cradle Studio (Kakao). About clever and resourceful Daon who has worked hard to overcome being poor. His cheap ways annoy his coworker, Sunghyeon but after “an incident” with his parents, Daon grows closer to him. But Daon also has feelings for his former tutor. This has the signs of a classic Kdrama all over it: Office setting, love triangle, lead suffering for his self-actualization. I’m optimistic about a longer treatment.

2025 Line Up

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 1

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 2

20 BLs Announced for 2025 That I'm Really Excited About

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

Such beautiful surrender (Your Sky).

Yeah all the build up for some great payout, thanks ThamePo.

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[allwaswell16]

A One Direction fic rec of long fics with bottom Harry as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

📖 Time Bomb by ThisSentimentalHeart

(M, 291k, famous/famous au) the one where Louis has everything: a lead role in a giant Hollywood franchise, a glittering new house with an entertaining Irish neighbor, and a steady, normal boyfriend who he probably loves.

📖 Light, Spark and Fire (series) by green_feelings / @greenfeelings

(E, 239k, omegaverse) Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

📖 Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by @angelichl

(E, 113k, omegaverse) Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

📖 Give Me Truths by iwillpaintasongforlou / @canonlarry

(E, 110k, punk Louis) the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

📖 apple pie baked just right by 28goldensfics / @28goldens

(E, 106k, farm) Louis has to get away. The news of his father’s terminal diagnosis, the loss of his job, and the breakup with his girlfriend leads Louis to leave for a life of slower things in the small town of Cedar Hills.

📖 Say Something by @kingsofeverything

(E, 105k, omegaverse) At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity.

📖 of the divine (series) by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 104k, guardian angel Harry) "I'm your-" The man shifts his weight, hesitantly bringing his hands together in front of him. It's an endearingly nervous habit. "I'm your guardian angel."

📖 De amore ex tempore by @persephoneflouwers

(M, 101k, historical) the Time Travel AU where alternate versions of themselves live simultaneously in different realities and their paths collide every time, until somehow, they converge into one.

📖 Victorian Boy by audreyhheart

(E, 101k, historical) Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed.

📖 Ace of Spades (series) by @allwaswell16

(E, 90k, pirates) Living as a sheltered omega in a farming village has not prepared Harry for life aboard the most notorious pirate ship to sail the Atlantic. Or Louis is a pirate, Harry is his captive, and no one is who they say they are.

📖 The Pros and Cons of Breathing by @hellolovers13

(E, 81k, omegaverse) Omega Harry has always known he'd be married off someday, so when he's betrothed to Prince Louis, he's anxious about having to leave his life behind, but hopeful for a happy marriage. The hope doesn't last long

📖 Truth Be Told (I Never Was Yours) by JustForTommo

(E, 76k, wedding planner) the one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner

📖 Falling For Me Won't Be A Mistake by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(M, 74k, mpreg) Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work.

📖 And I'll judge the cover by the book by harrystylesandstuff

(M, 73k, uni) a Private University AU where Harry is a queer posh prince, Louis is a closeted troublemaker, and neither expect to understand each other the way they will.

📖 Bikestrike by thinlines / @thinlinez

(E, 68k, omegaverse) What would you do if you saw someone riding your bike, which had been stolen weeks before, across campus? Omega Harry chose to show no mercy. He didn't know it would all lead him to his own demise.

📖 More Than You Know by @brightlyharry

(E, 64k, miscommunication) the one where Louis is a doorman for a luxury apartment building and Harry is the newest resident of the penthouse

📖 Lend Me Your Hand by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(M, 63k, historical) Society has long since decided that the soulmarks everyone is born with are entirely unfashionable. They're just another way for people of a lower class to scam their way into marrying above their station.

📖 Bye Bye's Are Not For Legends (I'm Forever Young) by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo

(M, 51k, superheroes) A Superhero AU where Louis, Liam and Niall are immortal and have superpowers - Liam can clone himself, Niall can inflict pain at the drop of a hat and Louis can kill with the blink of an eye - and want fellow immortal Harry, who puts a twist on the term 'mind control,' to join their group in order to save the world.

📖 you're ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece by Valentia

(E, 50k, uni) The one where Harry is soft and pretty but doesn't see it and Louis just wants to love him the way he deserves.

- Rare Pairs -

📖 All I Want by gvitup4zh

(E, 149k, Zayn/Harry) Zayn, music producer and single father, meets Harry, server and aspiring singer-songwriter, by chance one night and before the evening is over, Zayn has offered him a job as a nanny for his two kids. 

[ihtherik]

When You Bare Your Teeth It Almost Looks like a Smile

Pairing: Astarion x Female!Tav (not described)

Astarion’s POV

SFW/Fluff/Angst (seriously there’s no s€x here)

Summary: Set in Act 2 when the group begins scouring Moonrise Towers and Astarion and Tav encounter Araj Oblodra, the Drow blood merchant. She won’t take no for an answer, and learns why that is a very very stupid thing to do.

~3.2 K words

Bit of a deviation from the canon interactions/dialogue and what the outcome is because ummm little guard dog with her love that most certainly does doesn’t need one is a trope I LOVE and needed to vomit out a lil flash fic at 1 AM last night to perform catharsis help I also kind of made myself sad

I may get this posted on my AO3?

I also will post the next part of Turn My Heart to a Spade soon!!!

“Oh, but I’d prefer if you did.”

The sneering Drow’s reply to his assurances that he would not bite anyone doesn’t quite register for Astarion before she lets slip another gut-reeling string of words, this time directed at you.

“I assume he belongs to you? Judging by the way he’s clung to your shadow since you walked up…” her laugh is mirthful, the metallic smear of red around the blue-grey skin of her eyelids crinkling and cracking in her amusement. “It’s a truly remarkable boon, to have had a spawn at your beck and call during your trek through the Shadow-cursed lands. I’d be remiss and dishonest to say I’m not jealous.”

His pale brows furrow as an unfamiliar emotion hits him. Maybe unfamiliar isn’t right, but he’s been so long separated from it that encountering it again feels like meeting a stranger he’s all too wary of.

Much like how he felt when he met you.

Kind, generous, trusting, infuriating you.

Oh, how he loathed being proven wrong. Having his tried and true skills of determining who people are and what they want sidestepped, his—sometimes hastily drawn—conclusions about things tipped on their heads like a cat swiping a cup off a table. Mostly by you. Endearingly and maddeningly.

For Gods’ sakes, he is supposed to be the unpredictable, unreadable, unflappable one. It’s his armour. His sodding lifeline. When one is in control of their faculties and has only themselves to rely on, their ability to save themselves is entirely up to their skills, or lack thereof.

But you, you whose only purpose was to take a fall or stab (sometimes literally) for him, has somehow managed to get him to willingly hand over the one thing that could kill him.

His trust.

It had kept him from trancing, some nights, gnawing the inside of his lip to shreds while going over every possible scenario in which his trust could be wielded against him.

Yet thus far, you’d not only permitted, but encouraged him to hold the other metaphorical end of it.

Both in battle, and in his bedroll.

He wonders most days if you know. If you’ve caught onto what he’s now realized was a very poorly conceived ploy. He has to tell you, at some point.

There’d been a humbling, blind fierceness in every fiber of your being when you last drew your weapon for him—looking up at the devil Yugir as if he didn’t have his crossbow bolt aimed right between your glaring brows. You swung and hacked and sliced like it was your soul you were fighting for, not his.

You’d done more than received his trust, you’d earned the right to hold it.

And here he is, silently watching, pleading, mentally tugging on the other end like a child grasping at their mother’s shirt—hoping you feel it.

“He has a name,” your voice appears as even as ever to the average onlooker, and certainly to this Drow; but there’s a strain, a warning that Astarion can detect that, to him, feels like the gentlest tug back from your end on the rope.

“Is that so? How quaint,” the Drow tilts her head. Turning her attention back to him, she appraises him from his boots up to his curls with a gaze that makes that strange, ugly feeling swell again. “Do indulge me then, what are you called, spawn?”

“Astarion—but-hold on—“

“Well, Astarion,” the way her tongue flicks over every syllable of his name puts a crinkle of disgust on the slope of his nose. So unlike how you say it. Usually uttered, quick and delicate, the ‘Ah’ nearly clipped off—shortening it to ‘Starion. Familiar and sweet and warm. “I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl.”

His disbelief manifests in the way he stutters over his words, managing to compose himself into a semblance of his normal character by the end of his reply. “You—What? I’m sorry, You—you want to be bitten?”

“To feel your life’s blood slipping away? To dance between the edge of life and death? Yes, I want it.”

Though he’s already decided that this woman is, in fact, a stem short of a brain, the arrangement she proposes catches his attention. And not in any way that’s enticing. A likely dangerous and potentially faulty potion in exchange for drinking her blood is a shoddy deal at best, and a revolting one at worst. Her blood smells foul. Acrid. He can’t pinpoint exactly what it is, which only worries him more. Not a sort of sickly sweet smell of decay like Gale’s. Nor is it twinged with something medicinal like Halsin’s, or like the pleasant muddle of Shadowheart’s half-elven and half-human blood. And certainly not like yours.

Putting on all the politeness he can muster, which is already more than the Drow deserves, he replies.

“I will have to…erm, decline.”

“Excuse me?” The Drow scoffs, displeasure creasing the space between her brows. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you’re squandering it.”

“I gave you my answer,” he shocks himself with the lack of grace he speaks with, voice lowered and snarling. He used to be so good at evading people like her. What the Hells has gotten into him?

Tutting, the Drow turns back to you. “Can you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?” Addressing you like he’s not in the room, with scant more respect for you than she had for him.

Proving the Drow’s earlier observation right—as loyal as a bloody mutt—he looks to you, anxiety tightening the muscles over his stomach. The scenarios begin to churn in his mind, the worst among them not even that of you asking him to bite her to get the potion—but instead acquiescing his wants in front of the Drow only to reprimand or even punish him in some way later.

They come to a hilt as both he and the Drow await your move, holding his breath.

Then, you do something that manages to stun, relieve, and thrill him all at once.

You smile.

Though a half of a head shorter than him, and barely a few inches taller than the Drow, your presence seems to swell to intimidating heights among the three of you.

“My, you are slow on the uptake, Ms. Araj,” you speak with a lowered, gentle voice, one which commands the both of them to listen carefully—maybe even get closer, though at this point the Drow would have to have a death wish to get within stabbing distance of you. How dreadful, and disappointing, to Astarion; that the ominous and certain threat in your voice still yet seems to fly over the Drow’s head.

And how entertaining it will surely be to watch her pomp crumble in a few moments.

“My dear companion deigned to give you his name and answer, twice. I would pity the other acolytes and pilgrims here—if I cared for their lives—for the mere cruelty it is to converse with you in any capacity.”

Dear companion? Now this is new. And not…entirely unpleasant.

“I’m—sorry, I—“ the Drow’s poise wavers, though outrage still lines the edges of her voice.

“You will be sorry, if you do not shut your Godsdamned mouth while I speak,” you let the full fury of your voice be felt, though you have yet to raise it past what can be heard within five paces of the Blood Merchant.

As a meager credit to the Drow’s intelligence, she does snap her jaw shut. Astarion’s lips curl all the higher with each passing second.

“As I was saying—though I do not pity the acolytes here for the ordeal it must be to give you some form of station here, I think I have reason enough to remove you from it. For how you have treated my—for how you have treated Astarion,” your smile beams brighter, not a crease beneath your eyes to suggest you’re anything but seething. He realizes, in a way, you’re baring your teeth for him. The near possessive slip seems to loosen the anxiety in his frame, slightly. But your self-correction helps more.

“You may be a True Soul, but you don’t have any authority to—“ the Drow’s lips suddenly quiver shut again, but clearly not of her own doing. Astarion glances at you and his own tadpole wriggles as he feels yours come to life.

“I should have been more specific,” you sigh, your tadpole holding the Drow rigid. Brushing past him, you beckon with your finger as you move towards the balcony’s doorway across the room. The Drow begins to follow, feet shuffling awkwardly as the fear wells in her eyes. He’s not used to feeling planted to the floor, but for a moment he can only watch in gleeful disbelief at what you’re doing. He picks up his feet at the Drow crosses the threshold and slips out to the balcony with the two of you.

“When I said I had reason enough to remove you from your station, I meant that in less of a bureaucratic sense—I mean literally remove you from it,” you continue to hold the conversation calmly, one-sidedly, as you turn back to look at the Drow from the stacked-stone guardrail. You point and snap your fingers, gesturing to the one spot on this balcony where the stones have broken off and fallen down to the inky, boulder filled shallows at the bottom of the tower. The Drow moves even more resistantly as the psionic force from your tadpole urges her to obey, but eventually she stands at its edge.

“Tell me, Araj, would you like the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to feel what it’s like to fly? All you have to do—“ you lay a hand upon her back, just between her shoulder blades, giving her the slightest nudge. “Is step off.”

Astarion hears a strange, strained sounding humming, and realizes it’s the Drow trying to plead behind sealed lips.

“Oh—but it’s a simple exchange, really! And I’m a woman of my word. You step off, and I cast ‘Fly’ upon you. The only risk is if you fall too quickly, well—then my spell won’t reach you in time…and I’ve only seen it happen once before, but to fall from this height? Your body would pop like a champagne bottle thrown to the floor. Skin and muscle and bone will split, and all your warm guts and blood will burst and spray everywhere. What do you say? In my mind, it’d be plain idiotic to squander an opportunity like this.”

You turn back, meeting Astarion’s eye. Within yours, he can see a volatile mix ready to explode. Wrath. Outrage. A cruel hunger for revenge.

But even with those powerful emotions threatening to overtake you, there’s a tenuous thread of patience still wavering. Patience, and a question: that which asks for his permission. To not merely act or speak on his behalf, but decide whether or not to take this woman’s life for the affronts to his dignity and autonomy.

Indignation. Righteous indignation.

That is the feeling that’s been gnawing at him, the words for which he couldn’t recall until now. And it’s all because of you. Because you’ve refused to let him think of himself, talk about himself, treat himself, like a loaner to his own body and mind. Stepping off the wall, he approaches the two of you with a swagger.

First taking hold of a strap on the Drow’s armor, he then plants a steady foot on a piece of the stone guardrail to hold himself upright. Looking to you with a reassuring smirk, you step back, and with a rough shove Astarion sends the Drow’s upper half forward, dangling her precariously over the edge of the balcony. He lets her moan and protest wildly behind her teeth for a moment longer before nodding to you, and you release her from the hold of the tadpole. She takes a ragged gasp, as if preparing to scream, and he leans in to her ear.

“Now now, Araj, let’s not arouse any undesirable attention from the guards, hm?”

Stifling a groan of fear, her arms unsteadily pinwheel in the air as her feet try to find solid stone, and not the edge which Astarion has forced her onto.

“I think I’m feeling generous, so close to the overwhelming splendor of the Absolute—“ he mocks the name of the so-called deity that had proven itself a thorn in their group’s side thus far. “Whom, need I mention, blessed and deemed me a True Soul, just like my dear companion.”

Throwing a conspiratorial smile your way, it deflates only slightly to see your face set so tightly, all but trembling in anger. Not at him, of course. With a sigh, he tuts and yanks the Drow from the edge, throwing her to the stone floor of the balcony further in. She scrambles back from the both of you. Following her towards the door with unhurried steps, he tilts his head in the same mocking way she had before addressing her once more. “The next time someone tells you ‘no’, Drow, I suggest you not argue. You might not be so lucky next time.”

—

The two of you eventually reconvene with the remainder of your group, and after determining your next move you all settle within an abandoned wing of the tower for the night.

Neither of you relay what happened to the rest of your companions—and in turn don’t find an easy opportunity to address it with each other, until the others have gone to bed.

He finds you hunched over your pack, inventorying your potions yet again—worrying and fidgeting his hands and fingers as he approaches.

“I think we’ll come across more, we’ve not unlocked every door in this bloody tower,” he offers—sounding uncharacteristically optimistic. It betrays just how uncertain and uncomfortable he feels about what he’s actually come over to say to you.

“Ah, I know. Just a bit paranoid since we got here. We had our asses kicked out in Reithwin, then again when we took care of Raphael’s dirty laundry—and to walk in to that whole spectacle with Thorm? Gods above—“ you huff, coaxing a genuine smile to Astarion’s face. Finally you turn, rising from your crouched position with a tired, lopsided grin. It falters as you take in his expression, and Astarion worries he’ll collapse in on himself if you look at him for a moment longer like you currently are.

Like you’re concerned about him. Which you are. Like you care for him. Which you do.

Like you love him.

“Everything alright, ‘Starion?”

“Oh—yes, of course I’m fine-“ he stumbles over every word, his charming, easy, impervious shell cracking. “It’s just that…I feel—awful.”

You push aside your own exhaustion, giving him your full attention—of course you do. You ask him why. He’d almost rather pull his own fangs out than confess what he’s about to. But as you listen, as you take in everything he hurries and tries to explain or make excuses for, your expression does not change. Not for the worse, anyway. Those same shining, gentle eyes hold his, and make his undead heart swell. He makes sure to express his gratitude, for how you stood up to the Drow—but even more so for letting him decide.

“Well—yeah,” you sheepishly look down at your feet, scrubbing at the back of your hair. He almost can’t take it, how wonderful you are. “I wasn’t going to rob you of that satisfaction,” you joke. Sighing, you meet his eye again. “I was ready to kill her, Astarion. You know I was. But then… I wouldn’t have done anything for you. Not really. Who’d’ve been empowered if I’d done it? Definitely not you. So, sorry for almost doing that. I was…well, I was fucking pissed.”

He’s not sure if he can recall how to breathe. How could you be apologetic right now, when you were ready to defend him like some knight in shining armor? He came here to apologize to you, not the other way around.

“Hells, darling, I might find an opportunity to make you a villain yet,” he offers you a small smile, voice soft.

You reciprocate, your cheeks dusted with a blush illuminated by the few candles lit outside your tent.

“So, um…what you said—about forcing yourself through-does that mean our—erm,” you try to be so cordial, so empathetic, even though pain seeps from every pore at the implication of what he said.

“No—no, darling,” he rushes out, taking a breath. “Being…close to someone, it just…it was always something I did, had to do, to lure people back—for him. I—want us to be different. I know we are. But intimacy feels…” he struggles to articulate it, feeling your eyes on him even as his own flit around the shadows of the room. “…tainted. I just…don’t know how else to be with someone, no matter how much I’d like to.”

“I care about you, Astarion,” you murmur after a heavy pause, and he manages to find your eyes again.

“Really?” He asks, throat filled with a bubble of emotion that threatens to burst.

And where words failing him and the inability to wield his body would normally make him feel completely hollow—a useless husk of a man—the embrace your arms suddenly surround him in makes him seem…whole. Solid.

And unfortunately, capable of dragging him down to the depths of sadness and pain with how heavy he now feels.

However, your arms around him remind him that you’re there with him. That you will be there with him no matter what, Gods and Devils and Mindflayers be damned.

Astarion remembers how to use his own as realizes they’ve been merely hovering, outstretched, and hugs you back. You tighten around him, sighing into his shirt.

He closes his eyes, nuzzling his face into your hair, into the crook of your neck—looking for those places he’d be happily cradled in for the rest of his thus-far miserable life.

When you eventually pull back—Astarion’s hands linger at your waist, his fingers almost curling around your shirt to tug you back in.

“You’re—um-full of surprises,” he musters a shaky smile, which you reciprocate, warmly.

“I am yours until you tire of me, Astarion,” you offer half-jokingly, the gravity of which does not go amiss in his mind.

“Well, unfortunately for you, I don’t sleep—so don’t get your hopes up for being rid of me, darling.”

Your eyes crease, nearly obscuring your irises as you smile.

“I love you, Astarion,” the words are carried from your lips on a breath as it slips out—falling tenderly as a kiss to his ears and piercing as true as an arrow through his heart.

You can tell as much, stepping forward into his arms once more to squeeze his hand and reassure him. “You—you don’t have to say it back. I just want—need you to know that. In the event we die tomorrow or something. Very real possibility, given our dwindling potions.”

“Oh. Well. If we’re telling each other things we need to know, I suppose I should tell you how I’ve been building a stash of potions I’ve erm…borrowed from you, then. You know, clearing guilty consciences and all,” he counters, squeezing your hand back. “I’ll share them with you—as a last resort—of course.” You snort, and then fall into a fit of giggles that he’s dragged into all too easily.

After a considerable effort and a number of failed attempts to stop laughing, a sharp ‘Tsk’va’ uttered from Lae’zel’s tent nearby finally manages to silence you both as you slip into his tent, you staying awake only long enough for him to clear the bedroll of clutter and shake the blankets out.

As you settle your cheek on his chest, snuggled up to his side, his lips press idle kisses to your forehead and hair, desiring to commit your smell, warmth, and weight in his arms to memory.

He eventually slips into a trance—for once, one not filled with crimson eyes and shadows and death—but your sweet smile, laugh, and the way those three words he once longed to forget sound in your voice.

[names-boops-gabriel-boops]

Which Stormlight archive characters can say the bad word for gay… (this will follow the formula bc I love it)

Dalinar: No

- Probably is allowed a pass because of his probably gay past…

Gavilar: No

- This man is straight but will probably say it

Elhokar: No

- Gets a pass though, because I said so

Taravangian/ Odium: No

- Will call you it anyway because what are you gonna do, stop him???

Navani: Yes

- She and Raboniel were cooking up smth and it wasn’t just Anti light 👀👀

Adolin: Yes

- brother, just let him say it, he probably won’t ever but he can if he wanted

Shallan: Yes

- Do I need to give an explanation

Kaladin: Yes

- won’t ever say it

Moash: Maybe?

- Probably can say it but will use it derogatorily

Rlain: Yes

- It’s cannon. Won’t use it though, he with probably make a Rythm version of it

Renarin: Yes

- But won’t ever say it unless you lwk piss him off

Lopen: Maybe? (I MEAN IF I CAN TAKE HIM TO DINNER)

- I mean, I wouldn’t be mad if he could 👀 (💍)

Skar: Maybe

- Probably would get the pass from Drehy. Or….hes gay. Both work

Rock: No

- will call you it endearingly, lowlander is following after it every time

Lyn: Maybe

- Kal gives the vibe that all the woman he’s dated may have turned out to be lesbians

Drehy: Yes

- Dawg. He literally has a husband

Zahel/Vasher: No

- probably can’t (BUT YES IF I CAN TAKE HIM TO DINNER💍💍💍)

Hoid: Yes

- He gives the vibe that he would. Bro also totally dresses like Howl from howls moving castle

Szeth: No

- can’t and won’t say it, he will stab someone who calls you that in a rude way though

Sigzil: Maybe?

- Won’t say it, may write you a whole paper on how you shouldn’t (YES IF IT MEANS I CAN TAKE HIM TO DINNER💍💍💍)

Dabbid: Maybe?

- won’t say it (YES IF IT MEANS I CAN TAKE HIM TO DINNER💍💍💍)

Teft: No

- bro won’t and bro don’t care, will probably clap you on the back and call you a Pansy

Raboniel: Yes

- She invented the demographic of Mommy lesbians

Leshwei: No

- will say it only if you give her the pass

Venli: No

- if she says it she will be overwhelmed with the guilt

Eshonai: Yes

- is a muscle lesbian…also I would Marry her…don’t judge me

Taln: No

- doesn’t say it or want to

Nale: Yes

- I think he invented Mean gays and may or may not be the father of Rupaul??? (LET ME TAKE HIM TO DINNERRRR💍💍💍💍💍💍)

Ash: Maybe

- I don’t think she says it, probably has kissed a few women though

[rivertinghaze]

hi there! hope you’re doing well <3

could i get Jotaro (part 4), Rohan and Josuke with a Ranpo Edogawa type reader? preferably headcannons but if you want to write a piece than just Rohan. thank you <3

the greatest detective! | jotaro/reader, rohan/reader, josuke/reader

rating: teens and up; content: gn reader, slightly suggestive in Jotaro's part, silly deductions; genre: headcanons; word count: ~500 for each

masterlist ☆ requests open

⋆ Jotaro is very weary at first, of course. he likes to keep his cards close to his chest, watch and see where the wind will blow before he makes a decision. he's not that rash teenager anymore – he's a man with a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders, and he can't afford to make mistakes

⋆ especially when it comes to judging people. it makes the difference between friend and foe, between life and death  

⋆ so, that's why, when you step into his life, in quiet and mysterious Morioh, he's watching you like a hawk. you claim to be so great – the greatest detective in the world – and yet, he doesn't believe a word you say. he believes it to be all a bunch of nonsense, or lucky coincidences, or broad remarks about general truths (like the way fortunetellers do.)

⋆ he expects your predictions to fail. expects it all just to be one big joke. yet, on every single occurrence, he's proven wrong. or, better yet, you prove him wrong. 

⋆ Jotaro doesn't understand how you do it. you say it's your super special, super cool Stand power that allows you to solve any mystery, see through any lie straight to the truth. but he doesn't see anything – just your easy-going smile as you put on your special deduction glasses, and then the wide-eye look you give him. (it doesn't mesmerize him at all. doesn't make him stay up at night thinking about the confidence written over your face, the steadiness of your presence).

⋆ until it does. until a crucial moment in a fight when all odds seem stacked against him, and Jotaro grows genuinely worried innocent people will get hurt. you're there at the exact perfect moment (of course you are, you've been pestering him for weeks already, always on his tail), and every single part of your carefully-crafted plan falls in place as they should. 

⋆ maybe you don't appear to take things seriously, not like he does. but he's learned he can rely on you to be there, to have his back and take care of all the details he can't see. and while it's something to get accustomed to, this new, chaotic presence in his life, he feels safer after finally understanding that part of you – the one that protects quietly, just like he does (although, obviously, you do ask for the praise and recognition you deserve for your incredible plans and deductions, after the fact).

⋆ endearingly annoyed when you're casually using your deduction to help him with things before he mentions them. he's always been a man of few words, and to have someone next to him that knows what he needs without him saying it – well, it does help him actually open up. he wants to say things when it's just you and him.

⋆ when you're both tangled in soft sheets, tired but content, bodies warm in the places they touch – your hand over his chest, like a shield, his arm around you, holding you to his side, like armor – he breathes in and out, slowly, relaxed and protective. until you begin to tease him about just how much he seemed to enjoy that thing you did, and how you already knew it would turn out like this. he just huffs and pulls you closer, telling you to shut up and go to sleep.

⋆ this man is completely fascinated with you right from the start. your energy, the unique way you shift the atmosphere in a room and nudge things along in the exact direct you want, without anyone else noticing until it's already too late

⋆ Rohan wants to understand you, see what makes you tick, understand the full extent of your so-called 'special deduction power'. he tries, he really does, following you around town, accidentally bumping into you when you're getting snacks and pulling you into long conversations. he needs to know more about it

⋆ to his defense, he is better at it than most people – paying attention to you, the particular way you do things, trying to predict your decisions before you vocalize them – but at the end of the day, try as he might, he will never be able to fully grasp the extent of your way of thinking

⋆ he's not fully sold on the whole show you make whenever you do use your deduction ability in public (over the top? just a bit, but within reason. he's aware he's like that too, sometimes). he will admit he thinks the glasses look cute, and the smug look on your face when you explain the exact way something transpired near made his brain stop the first time he witnessed it

⋆ never overbearing, but just slightly overprotecting when it comes to reminding you to take care of yourself whenever it slips your mind – honestly, with all of those mysteries you're solving in there, he's not surprised you forget sometimes. still, he learns how to cook the meals you enjoy, buys an extra toothbrush to keep in his bathroom when you oh so inconveniently decide to fall asleep on his couch.

⋆ he does however, fuss over your safety and lack of self-awareness. the first time you got lost (honest to god, lost) on the way back to his house from the store, well… he might have called a few of his close high-school-aged acquaintances to search the whole of Morioh for you. you greeted him like nothing was wrong after they found hours later, making friends with some sketchy-looking guys and acting like it was completely normal for you

⋆ later on, he gets super smug on your behalf, and hypes you up to the moon and back. in the 'you tell them babe!' sort of way, just – so proud that you're always the smartest person in the room, and no one can even dare challenge that (he's proud he gets to witness all that, at your side).

⋆�� while the creative process when it comes to his work is his and his alone, he grows to ask you for advice on clever twists and turns to add in his stories. he accepts that he will never be able to surprise you, but it's not so bad, especially since it gets him a lot of kisses when he pouts and pretends to be mad at you for spoiling the ending for yourself

⋆ he's not expecting much that day, maybe a surprise test or two, maybe some bizarre video game Okuyatsu wants to try out after school. he's certainly not expecting a new classmate in the middle of the year, and not one as interesting as you

⋆ you're not subtle, or nonchalant, or any other synonym he could bother to look up in the dictionary that describes your openness. but he can tell right away that you are earnest, maybe a bit peculiar, but the sparkle in your eyes as you scan across the entire classroom is unmistakable.

⋆ Josuke doesn't know when it happens exactly, but one day he looks over and you're already looking back, like you're already waiting for him. some days, being around you is kind of like playing a game he doesn't know the rules to, but he finds it fun, nonetheless. 

⋆ after school, you drag him to convenience stores just to rate every brand of chocolate bars they have (and get more snacks for your secret stash, of course). he dares you to eat an entire bag of marshmallows, and he feels so smart, thinking he's finally got you at something you can't accomplish perfectly – until you near inhale the whole bag and look at him with those innocent, puppy eyes, and he laughs at how silly the situation really is.

⋆ he starts to notice that whenever you say hey, trust me, it's followed by a completely crazy, completely brilliant deduction. even if sometimes he can't wrap his head around them, he follows you anyway, because even if it would turn into a disaster, he needs to stay by your side and keep you out of harm's way

⋆ it happens in the park, when the sun is over the Morioh's skyline, painting the houses in softer colors. you stand on top of a bench, finishing a difficult level on his gameboy for him with one hand, the other playing with your deduction glasses, and declare the final piece of the puzzle with an easy-going grin, and it's the answer that ties everything together in a way no one else saw coming. Josuke stares, a little stunned, as you get all smug about it (but not unkind), that you figured it out, obviously, how could he ever doubt you?

⋆ it'll take some time until he admits it, but you kind of take his breath away. especially the first time you surprise him with a full-bodied hug, tender yet firm, saying everything that you can't quite put into words just yet (suppose he's just special in that way, being the first person to make you stumble over your words in his wonderful, protective presence).

author's notes: whooo, first time doing multiple characters hcs! this was super fun to figure out (since i am, predictably, a casual ranpo enjoyer) so i hope y'all enjoy (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) happy weekend!

[marshedmallowes]

earbuds — megumi x reader

song choice: cologne by beabadoobee

a/n: i wrote this in an airplane and i have NOT proofread it at ALL; i just have been needing to put something out lol this is highkey half-assed so please bare with me.

you lean into megumi, eyelids only getting heavier and heavier from the sleep taking you over. as you perch your head on his shoulder, gritty, grungy music emanated from his earphones, peaking your interest. 

“you know, i don’t really know what kind of music you’re into, but now that i’m hearing it, it makes complete sense…” 

at your remark, he seems to take a little offense, judging by the way the shoulder you were currently leaning on stiffened and his eyebrows furrowed. “is that an insult?” 

“no, not really,” you grin endearingly.

...you don’t know if it was the drowsiness that caused your random surge of courage, but you reach into his (increasingly reddening) ear, taking an earbud away to place into yours. megumi’s cheeks flare up, but you can tell he’s trying to keep it cool from the way he awkwardly poker faces and avoids eye contact. funny guy, huh. you think as you can’t help but feel your muscles tugging into a smile. 

you insert the earbud in your ear, sleep taking over once again as you— wait, isn’t this…

“isn’t this beabadoobee?”

“…no.”

“but it’s literally her vo–“

“shut up. don’t you dare say a word.”

and so you do, snuggling up to his shoulder once again as you pretend not to notice his very pink face. 

a/n 2: ik megumi listens to weezer and stuff but i feel like he secretly enjoys beabadoobee and never says anything abt it bc HIM? THEE MEGUMI? A BEABADOOBEE LISTENER? esp since some of bea’s music is quite gritty, such as the song choice right here🤗

[2000sangel]

Can I request Husk with someone who doesn't drink alcohol but loves going to the bar just to talk with him? Maybe even try to learn card tricks since the poor one can't even shuffle cards. Pretty please

Of course! You didn't specify what you wanted, so I hope HCs are fine :3

dividers : horangipilled

Husk x Reader Headcanons

✦ Husk doesn’t really think that it’s a problem if you don’t drink alcohol; in fact, he might even be proud of you for it, as he wants you to be as healthy as possible. As he himself said, you won’t find the solution to a problem at the bottom of a bottle, so the last thing he wants is for you to get addicted to drinking like he unfortunately is.

✦ With that being said, he’ll happily mix up non-alcoholic drinks for you; from a fresh Mojito to a tasty Virgin Bloody Mary, he can make any cocktail of your liking without adding the alcohol. This way, you’ll fully be able to savor the flavour of the drink.

✦ If you’re not looking for a drink however, and you’d rather just sit down at the counter and talk to him, he’ll be pretty surprised at first. He’s so used to seeing all the other residents of the Hotel drunk and overly emotional that he barely considered the possibility that you might be there just for him.

✦ He really appreciates it though, and won’t deny you of any kind of conversation with him. He doesn’t usually reveal much about himself, but during your conversations the topic of your past lives will probably come up and he’ll tell you a bit about what his was like. Travelling, playing the saxophone at lounge bars and magic, this was what his life was really about, and as he recounts events that happened to him with a distant nostalgia in his eyes, you do nothing but listen, somewhat wishing you could have been able to meet when you were alive.

✦ He asks about yourself too, of course, and he’s a pretty good listener too. He leans on the counter slightly, ears perked up, genuinely interested in what you have to say. He asks questions and chuckles at your jokes and at your funny stories, his laugh spontaneous and gusty.

✦ One day he casually mentions card tricks, and when you ask him to show you some and how to perform them he’s eager to teach you. it’s not really because he wants to show off or because he likes being in the centre of attention, it’s mostly because it’s you who’s asking and he could never deny you of something as he’s grown fond of you. And also because yes, maybe he enjoys showing off a bit to you too...

✦ He shows you the simplest things first, like how to shuffle cards properly. Then comes the more difficult stuff: the mind reading card trick, the four Aces card trick, eights end up together...you find everything quite fun, and his explanations are easy to follow.

✦ Eventually, you learn how to perform these, even though with a bit of a struggle at first, and you ask him to watch you as you show your friends what you’ve learned. He observes proudly, shaking his head and chuckling endearingly when you perform the first card trick wrong, overcome with emotion. He nudges you with his tail, and reminds you to take a deep breath and stay concentrated next time you try this – you eventually succeed, and he flashes you the first smile showing his sharp teeth.

✦ You two end up playing cards together, since he knows many ways of playing too. He’s eager to show you those as well if you don’t really know how to play, and the best part is that he’s pretty patient and doesn’t really judge you for not knowing every rule.

[twignotstick]

Mud Dogz - Our Own Dragons 🐉 : Chapter 2

<- Chapter 1

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): Brief mention of injuries, mention of cannibalism

Words: 3,513

Summary: The plan to save Heinous Green is underway.

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

The first part of the plan went over smoothly. As they had suspected, most of the Nexus’ security was focused on keeping the gala in order. The Mud Dogs were able to get into the lobby unseen, and made it into the elevator with the help of a nice dog lady.

The stairs were an unforeseen issue.

Really, it should have been predicted. When only two of your three group members have legs, you try to think ahead for these sorts of things. And, in Danny and Mickey’s defense, usually their heists were in buildings with three floors, max.

The Grand Nexus Hotel had thirty.

Mickey tried to slink up as many floors as he could, he really did. But, unfortunately, that nice dog lady had only been going to the fifth floor. The employee floors started on floor twenty-five. Mickey was a tough kid, but in the end, he was still a sixteen year old with a minimal workout routine. And that routine did not involve stairs. Danny started carrying him mystically by floor twelve, but levitating a 120 pound eel drains a person. Leonard had to carry him for the last five floors.

By floor twenty-five, all three of the boys were exhausted in one way or another. Leonard dropped Mickey to the carpeted floor unceremoniously, then clapped his hands together. “Okay. So we don’t have to go through any more of that, here’s what we’re gonna do. Mickey, you stay on this floor.”

Mickey held a fin up in a thumbs up (or, as close as one could get with no fingers).

“I’ll go up to the next floor. Danny’ll go up to the floor above that. We have our mirrors, so we’ll just message if we find anything.”

Danny gave a short salute, then ran back to the stairwell to get upstairs. Leonard walked over to Mickey and helped him get upright.

“You'll be alright alone on this floor, right?” Leonard murmured as he held Mickey by the shoulders. “If you need help, you have to message me.”

“I'll be fine, bro!” Mickey gently lifted Leonard's hands off him. “This whole place is gonna be electric cause of me!” A short zap went through the ogre's arms, making his hairs stand on end.

Leonard sighed. “Don't try and be tough, Mick.”

“Right, right.” Mickey backed away, slinking down the hall a bit. “I don't even have to try.” He winked, then slunk away.

Endearingly, Leonard rolled his eyes, then turned around to head up the stairs.

It wasn't that he doubted Mickey's ability to defend himself. Well, maybe a little. But he had known Mickey for twelve years, through all the formative periods of his life, so far. And Leonard knew that Mickey was quick to trust. Not to say that Mickey was a poor judge of character; on many occasions, he was able to sniff out shady people without even speaking to them. He was just so passionate about those claims of good and bad. He would stand for people he didn't even know. Sometimes, to a reckless degree.

Leonard wasn't worried. You couldn't get him to admit that even if you held a knife to his neck.

The next floor looked mostly the same as the previous: a long hallway, with branching off directions further down. Gaudy carpeting acted as a runway to whatever domiciles Big Mama's employees might occupy. The doors to the rooms were noticeably bigger than average- no doubt a way of accommodating the more menacing employees. The rooms were also more spaced apart and less numerous, implying more space on the inside.

Leonard walked down the hall with caution, flinching at every little sound from within the walls. Most other floors had a consistent murmur of conversation floating through it. But here, it was clear that this was a place of business. And most of the employees were off at work.

Reaching a corner, he glanced around to check no one was waiting for him. In the distance, multiple doors down, was a spot on the carpet which looked out of place. The gaudy, eye-vomit patterns were slightly disturbed. Almost as if they were poorly repaired, stitched together imperfectly. Noticeably, the disturbance laid right in front of the door to a room.

Such curiosity couldn't be fought.

With excessive caution, Leonard walked down the hall on his toes, attempting to make no noise at all. The carpet aided him in that regard. As he approached, he leaned near the wall to try and glean anything that could help him prepare for the other side of that door.

Deep, heavy breathing.

Undeterred, Leonard stood in front of the door. None of the rooms on this floor had peepholes, so he couldn't try and see who was inside. The plain color of the door was a breath of fresh air compared to-...

The door was open.

…the door was open?

Just barely, almost unnoticeable, the door was open. Not even enough to leave an opening into the room- just enough so the latch wouldn't hold the door closed, and it couldn't lock.

Almost… intentionally.

Mustering all the courage in his body, Leonard reached forward and grabbed the cold, metal doorknob. The slightly ajar state of the door made turning it even quieter. Only a small click when the latch was pulled fully in. He leaned to the side, peering in.

Leonard didn't believe in fate. There were so many things that he knew had gone wrong in his life, that if fate did exist, it surely must despise him. And Leonard didn't allow anyone like that around him. Even moderate distaste he could tolerate. But hatred? It wasn't good for him.

And yet there, laying on top of the sheets of a king size hotel bed, was that kaiju.

He was wearing the same clothes from before, with that lock still hanging around his neck. His tail swayed lazily, the tip of it scraping across the floor. He seemed to be asleep, though not resting. His face was molded in an eternal scowl, twitching every now and then, each time his breath caught. His breathing was more like growling, every exhale a rumble that shook the flooring. Flooring much like the carpet outside; shabbily repaired, and still broken in places.

He had more bandages than last time. The ones that appeared decorative didn't seem that way anymore.

Despite the numerous objections filtering through his head, (you're going to get caught, there is no net positive to doing this, that is a thief/kidnapper/MURDERER-), Leonard stepped inside and slowly shut the door behind him. He left it just barely ajar, like it was when he arrived, just enough to not be investigated by the less observant. It'd be easier to get out that way.

It was a nice room, other than the mild disarray of the bed and the floor. There was no desk, or bedside tables, as one would expect from a hotel room. Only the king size bed to the right and two lamps extending from the wall. It was bigger, as Leonard had suspected, but it felt suffocatingly empty.

Off to the left, there was a small coffee table. The floor beneath looked more battered and beaten than any other spot, surely signifying something. Yet, the table above looked untouched.

Even the bloody, raw steak on the plate atop it.

Leonard breathed deeply. He slowly glanced back over at the kaiju on the bed. Okay. So he's more than likely hungry. Easy problem to avoid, there's a giant steak there. Redirect the aggression. Use that diversion to escape.

Keeping his eyes on the lizard, Leonard slipped his mirror out of his pocket. It was cracked, and bound to die for good one of these days, but it still worked. He pulled up the group chat (fittingly titled “Sludge Mongrels”) and sent a quick, concise message.

“Found him. Room 2612.”

Leonard scoped out the room. Taking everything into account, he decided that the safest place to be was on the other side of the coffee table, as far away from Heinous Green as possible. He began slowly walking over, turning to check if the kaiju had stirred with every step.

The more he looked at Heinous Green, the more Leonard started to believe Danny and Mickey might be right. The room was in no way comfortable, or even accommodating to him. While the bed was big enough, the sheets looked cheap, and just as ripped and messed up as the floors. Surely Big Mama treated her employees with the slightest respect, at least. This was squalor.

The nicest thing in the room, by a long shot, was the platter with the steak on it. The metal was carved with intricate filigree, with fanciful handles on either side. Even the steak, while uncooked, looked professional and positively expensive. There was even a small garnish on the top.

Untouched.

Just as Leonard was starting to settle in this new position, the door to the room was shoved open with minimal care. Danny glanced around as the door slammed behind him. Leonard cringed, hissing through his teeth and looking at the kaiju.

He snorted and began to wake.

Danny gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. Both the criminals shared frantic glances, and Leonard stage whispered through his teeth, “Get over here, idiot!”

As he scampered over, Danny tripped over his own tail. Heinous Green's head began to rise. “You didn't say he was asleep, dude!”

“I didn't think I had to, since we're trying to be quiet!”

“Well, maybe you should've.”

A loud huff came from the opposite side of the room as Heinous Green pushed himself upright. His piercing, yellowed eyes scanned the room, locking onto the intruders. He growled through his unbrushed teeth and dug his ragged claws into the bed sheets beneath him.

“...hi.” Leonard spoke quietly. “We… friends! No hurt you. You have food, we no take!”

As Heinous Green squinted at them, Danny swatted Leonard's arm. “Stop talking to him like that!”

“What? Big Mama said he was stupid!”

“Stupid doesn't mean he doesn't understand language, look at you!”

The kaiju huffed and took a step closer, which promptly cut the argument short. His glance drifted to the food on the table. He stared for an uncomfortable moment, then turned his head to the side and gagged.

Danny's tail slowly began to wrap around Leonard's wrist. “I think he finally got a whiff of you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Leonard scoffed. “And get your stupid tail off me-” He pried Danny's tail off with force. “Listen, Heinous Green. We aren't here to hurt you. We came because my delusional compatriot over here-”

“Hey-”

“-thought you might need some help. Him, and my other delusional compatriot. But, it's pretty clear that you don't want us here, so we can just leeeave-”

In a cruel moment of perfect timing, a knock came from the door. On the other side, Mickey's muffled voice. “Uh, guys? I think it's locked…”

All eyes went wide as Heinous Green started trampling toward the door. “Why did you shut the door?!”

“Because it was shut when I got here!”

“No, it-” Leonard buried his face in his hands. “We're dead.”

He flung the door open so hard, Leonard worried for a moment it might fly off its hinges. Mickey was standing there with his fin still up to keep knocking, and a goofy grin crept across his face when he saw who had answered. “Hey! We were looking for you!”

Heinous Green's arm shot out like a bullet, grasping around Mickey's neck (?) and lifting him up. Mickey squeaked as he was flung across the room, sent rolling across the floor. Both Danny and Leonard winced in sympathy.

As Heinous Green began stomping over to him, Mickey pulled himself off the floor. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare you!” He dusted himself off quickly. The kaiju's head tilted curiously. “I'm Mickey, or Malicious Mickey, if we're talking professionally. Over there are my partners in crime, Loathsome Leonard and Dastardly Danny. We're gonna break you out of Big Mama's control and set you free!”

Despite Leonard and Danny's frantic looks, Mickey was handling this better than they had. Heinous Green even seemed to be calming down a bit, looking more intrigued than frustrated. And despite getting thrown across the room like a ragdoll, Mickey still had that goofy smile on his face.

Heinous Green leaned down, his fierce eyes locked onto Mickey's. He sniffed loudly, and Leonard could swear he saw Mickey's dorsal fin get pulled with the force. Behind him, his tail leisurely swayed, dragging across the ground. Slowly, his lip pulled back, revealing his sharp teeth.

Mickey was undeterred. “Do you need anything right now? It's gonna take a little bit for us to get that lock off, but the least we can do is help you out with what's going on now.”

“Mickey,” Leonard hissed, wide eyed. “Get over here before he EATS you.”

“Huh?” As Mickey looked over in confusion, the kaiju growled, and his snarl grew. “Oh! You're hungry? I've got snacks!” Without a care in the world, Mickey shuffled over to Danny. “Gimme your bag.”

Danny's face screwed up in confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Gimme your bag. I brought snacks.”

“Wha- what???” Danny started rifling through his bag, growing ever more anxious as Heinous Green stepped closer.

“Are you serious?” Leonard grabbed Mickey by the shoulders. “That guy has eaten some very unmentionable things, Mick.”

“How did you get these in my bag?!?” Danny asked incredulously.

Mickey swiped the bag of chips from Danny's hand without looking, instead keeping eye contact with Leonard. “Okay? So he's got a weird appetite. I eat cookies with ketchup! Doesn't mean I don't appreciate good snacks.”

“Cannibalism isn't a fad diet, Mickey.”

“You agreed to this, man.” In a flash, Mickey's sweet disposition grew more determined, with youthful, overconfident puppy dog eyes. “Both of you did. If we're gonna help this guy, we gotta treat him with respect. So get your tail out from between your legs-” he side eyed Danny, who had done just that- “literally, and stop acting like he's gonna bite your face off.”

Gritting his teeth, Leonard sighed and relented. He grabbed Danny's wrist (“You signed us up for this, Whiskers,”) and walked back over to Heinous Green at Mickey's side.

“These chips are my favorite.” Mickey pulled open the bag and held it out toward Heinous Green, who stared at it in confusion. “They're crabapple-cider vinegar flavored. Sourced straight from crustorchards, too.” Mickey swiped a chip from the bag quickly, then held it out again.

With a bizarre delicacy, Heinous Green reached into the bag and took a chip out, held between his chipped nails. After watching Mickey eat his, he exploratorily ate his own. His hard glare softened a bit after he swallowed.

“Good, right?”

Heinous Green snorted in response, then slowly took the bag from Mickey's fins. He ate the chips with a tentativeness that didn't match his outward appearance at all. He settled down into a criss cross on the floor, and his tail curled around him. Even sitting down fully, he was still a head taller than Mickey.

Mickey turned around and tilted his head to Danny. The rat's tail stood straight beside him. “Uh, o-okay Mister… Green?” He moved closer, his steps uneven. “Could I look at that lock around your neck? I have some knowledge in regards to enchanted objects- assuming that it is an enchanted object, of course.”

The kaiju snarled quietly, but lowered the snacks into his lap nonetheless to reveal the lock. At first glance, it was nothing special. It almost looked flimsy, like you could tug it a little harshly and make it come loose. But, upon further inspection, it had minuscule arcane carvings on its surface, almost invisible to the naked eye. Even the rope holding it was unnatural up close, with the fibers bending and twisting in impossible ways.

“Fascinating…” Hesitantly, Danny took the lock in his hands, holding it a bit away from Heinous Green's chest. “This is some excellent craftsmanship. And can you take it off?”

Heinous Green huffed and shook his head slightly.

“Not surprising. This thing is a powerhouse. It's even carved on the inside…”

Leonard leaned around to see the lock in Danny's hands. “And what does that mean?”

“It's practically unpickable. And, it'd be very difficult to remove the enchantment without the other component of the spell: the key. It's got a binding enchantment wound in there, too, so it can't be taken off until the initial enchantment is deactivated or removed. And these etchings are so beautifully symmetrical-’

“Okay, we get it, it's a strong enchantment. Can we get it off him or not?”

“Not without the key.” Danny leaned back, putting his hand on his chin. “I mean, I could try to brute force it, but that could take hours, maybe days. I don't think we can risk leaving and coming back.”

“Hey, Big Man.” Mickey plopped himself down in front of Heinous Green, with his tail folded up beneath himself. “Do you have any idea where the key to that lock is?”

Heinous Green growled and nodded his head slowly.

“Okay. Does somebody have it?”

Another nod.

“Okay! So-”

“Big Mama has it,” Leonard assumed bluntly.

“You don't know that,” Mickey sassed. He leaned closer to Heinous Green to whisper, “Does Big Mama have it?”

The growl grew louder, and Heinous Green nodded again.

“Alright. So we just have to steal the key from Big Mama!”

“Mickey.” Leonard leaned forward. “Those two things don't go in the same sentence. Nobody steals from Big Mama without getting put on at least fifty hit lists. Plus, we don't know where it is. It could be in her office, or, for all we know, it could be in her pockets. This is a death wish.”

“Well, actually…”

“Daniel. I will cut your whiskers.”

“I'm just saying, there is a way we could do this!” Danny sat down as well, leaving Leonard as the only one standing. “If we bring Heinous Green with us, then we can unlock it as soon as we get the key. That gives us a quick way out. We can check the office, and if it isn't already there, then we can try a different approach.”

Leonard glanced around at the others like they had gone crazy. Heinous Green actually looked indifferent to the wild proposition, despite it being potentially pivotal to the scope of his future. The ogre grit his teeth and took a deep breath.

“Fine. But I get veto power.”

“Why just you?” Mickey asked, knowingly.

“Because I'm the leader.”

Both Danny and Mickey collectively groaned and threw their heads back, confusing Heinous Green. “Blue guy is the leader,” Mickey mocked.

“Hey, stop it.”

“If you get veto power, so do we Len,” Danny asserted sternly.

“Fine. We all get veto power. If things start going wrong, we call it off and ditch ASAP.” Finally, Leonard sat down as well. “No offense, Big Guy, but Big Mama doesn't like us at all. I don't feel like dying today.”

“We wouldn't die,” Danny said, then mumbled through his teeth, “More than likely, we'd get put in the Battle Nexus.”

“And then die. Way better.”

“Oh, come on, guys!” Mickey patted his lap. “We can take the Battle Nexus!”

As Mickey and Danny started to debate whether or not they could “defeat” the Battle Nexus, Leonard began to scan over Heinous Green again. When he had first seen him in Big Mama's office, he seemed so imposing. He had a much different, and much less approachable energy compared to the fake Heinous Green. But now, watching him sit on the ground, his scales littered with new injuries, as he slowly ate from a bag of chips, he looked so… small. Not literally, but in a figurative way. Like he was just a face. He didn't have any actual power here.

Like he was a pawn.

Leonard shook his head slowly. He really gave into these sorts of antics far too easily.

“We'll go to her office, and we'll bring Heinous Green. But, if the key isn't there, we're done. We can consider coming back, but we make no promises.”

Mickey brightened by a thousand measures. “Sweet!” He hopped up and moved closer to Heinous Green. “Come on, Big Dude!” He extended a fin, awaiting the kaiju's response.

Heinous Green stared at it for a long moment, seemingly unsure of how to react. He rose his hand shakily, and gently pinched Mickey's fin between two fingers. The eel grinned, lighting up the room. (Figuratively, thank goodness.) He backed away towards the door, and Heinous Green slowly stood and followed, holding Mickey's fin as delicately as he could.

As he and Danny began to follow as well, something warm glowed in Leonard's chest. Maybe it was warm, or maybe it was heated. He couldn't tell.

He discounted it as indigestion.

●○●○●○●○●

The big man is in the building!!!

More Mud Dogz: Masterpost

Next Chapter ->

[tumbleweed-run]

The Reluctant Bride pt 2

(18+, explicit) Kinktober 2023 Day 6: Dub Con

Part One

Part Two

Astarion stood straighter, offense etched into his face. “I understand I don’t have the appeal of Tav but I thought-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Gale interrupted shaking his head. He had to pause and lean against the wall as the movement brought on a wave of dizziness. 

“I’m so sorry,” Tav sounded stricken. 

“It’s not your doing, darling,” Astarion threw over his shoulder but his eyes were still pinned to Gale. 

Gale sighed, heavily, the reality of the moment and its consequences crashed down on him. ��I meant,” he began again, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that this isn’t how I wanted… this.”

And that was that. 

It wasn’t some statement of desperation, a lie pulled from his lips in a moment of panic. No, he wanted Astarion. He’d thought numerous times, especially in the last month, of how they’d bring their odd dynamic full circle. He’d never been sure of just how truthful Astarion’s flirtations were and wanted to be sure the vampire wouldn’t agree to it just to please Tav. Gale needed to be sure, for both their sakes, that they both wanted this. 

Truthfully, his odd attraction to Astarion had begun long before they culled the goblin camp. 

When Gale was finally brave enough to reopen his eyes, he found Astarion staring at him. His face was closed, mask that had been endearingly absent the last few weeks, back in place. Gale felt his stomach sink, perhaps he’d misread the situation all along. 

His eyes dropped to the floor because it didn’t matter. Astarion was right, if this was the only answer to their predicament, they would have to go through with it. The curse didn’t care whether either of them was a willing participant. In fact, judging by the name, that was the exact point. 

Astarion reached out and grabbed Gale’s arm. Gale stared at the point of contact. Without the fabric between the touch was both a balm and a stimulant. It felt almost as if his fever had begun breaking instantly. 

“It’s not,” Astarion began, drawing Gale’s eyes up to his face, “how I’d wanted things to happen either.”

Gale’s eyes roved over Astarion’s face, searching for an indication as to what he meant. He realized quickly that he was just going to have to ask. “I need you to be more specific.”

Astarion clicked his tongue and sighed. “I mean I would have been willing to try this,” he waved his hand wildly, “long ago. But seeing as you near exploded Halsin just for suggestion something similar, what hope did I have? But now that seems a bit out of our hands.”

Gale attempted to process this new information, his fever sluggish brain making it difficult. “So this, if we do this-”

“We are.”

“If we do this,” Gale repeated, “I’m not… you won’t be hurt?”

For a brief second Astarion’s eyes sparkled, remnants of his flirtatious nature clawing its way to the surface. But just as quickly as it was there, Gale watched it transform into something more earnest. 

“I can’t say I’m entirely thrilled given the ‘do it or die’ nature but,” Astarion said, “I guess this is certainly one way to get passed the awkward stage.”

Gale nodded, finally accepting their situation. When he glanced passed Astarion’s should he saw Tav watching them both, eyes wide. She was chewing on her lip. When her eye caught his, she smiled. It was a tired but hopeful thing and went a long way to buoy Gale’s spirits. 

He turned his attention back to Astarion. “How should we… continue?” He asked not liking how unsure he still sounded.

“Well, first things, I think we should lose this,” with that Astarion plucked the towel from around Gale’s waist, letting it crumple to the floor. 

It was truly a sign of how badly this curse was affecting him that Gale didn’t protest his sudden nakedness. 

“Then,” Astarion continued, “I think perhaps you should go and sit back on the bed and allow me to help with that.” He looked down very pointedly at Gale’s erection which hadn’t flagged in the least despite having had no attention paid to it for some time. 

He looked hungry in a way that had Gale briefly wondering if he would leave this night with all his blood intact. 

He cleared his throat. “Are you sure? I mean we don’t know if that will work and beside how will you… I mean I can also, I have, but…” Gale allowed himself to trail off as he realized he had no real end to his ramblings. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow at that revelation. “Are you saying you wish to just get to fucking me?” He challenged. 

Gale sagged against the wall again and dropped his head. “Actually it might be best the other way,” he admitted. 

“And why is that?” Astarion sounded unnervingly interested. 

Gale cleared his throat raising his head to risk a glance at Astarion before looking away again. “We tried…” he trailed off unable to finish. He wasn’t ashamed or really bother, but it was an odd thing to talk about with someone who hadn’t been involved. 

“Oh,” Astarion’s voiced pitched up and he was beginning to sound delighted. “Your fingers or a toy?” That question was thrown backward at Tav. 

“My fingers,” she answered quickly. 

“Aren’t you full of surprises,” Astarion drawled before grasping Gale’s chin, forcing him to look at him, “but my fingers and my cock are larger than anything she’s stuck in you. So while I’m not opposed, I need to make sure we won’t cause you any undue harm.”

Gale attempted to nod. 

“The easiest way to do that, and allow us to build an allusion that this is at all consensual, is if I do that while you are distracted,” the last word positively dripped from the vampire’s mouth. 

Gale swallowed harshly at the visuals being provided for him. He was beginning to realize the effects of Astarion’s words were not entirely to blame on the curse. 

“Gale,” Tav called. She’d shifted so she was sitting in the center of the bed, gesturing for him to come join her. 

Gale slid away from Astarion and went to the bed. Before sitting, he leaned over and kissed Tav who returned it enthusiastically despite how swollen her lips were. When he did sit he found that Astarion had pulled off his shirt and had made his way back across the room. 

“Lay back in her lap,” Astarion directed him. 

It’d been less than a minutes since they’d touched and Gale was already feeling the consequences. His head had begun spinning again, just enough that he was willing to follow Astarion’s demands without argument. As he laid back the top of his head brushed against something cool and wet. The guilt reared its head again when he realized it was the rag he’d given Tav in the hopes of calming some of the pain she’d surely been feeling. 

“I’m sorry,” he told her shifting until he was comfortable. 

Tav shook her head, hair falling loose about her shoulders. “Don’t be,” she insisted, “this is my fault.”

Gale reached up and took her chin in his hand, making sure she was looking at him. “This isn’t your fault,” he told her, “I was wrong to try and blame you.”

Tav’s eyes searched his and then she nodded, Gale could tell though, that her burden hadn’t lifted entirely. 

“We can assign blame later,” Astarion spoke up now, standing between Gale’s legs.

Gale looked up at him but whatever he meant to say died on his lips as Astarion gently rested one hand on his leg. The wave of relief was almost instant and Gale found he was irritated at it. 

With an alarming amount of grace given the predicament they were in, Astarion sunk to his knees. Gale tried to follow him down but the position became to awkward to track. Instead he rested his head back again into Tav’s lap, one of her hands coming up automatically to stroke his hair back from his face. 

He moaned when Astarion gripped his cock. The other man stroked him a few times and then without much prelude pulled Gale into his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Gale moaned as his cock almost immediately butted against the back of Astarion’s throat. 

Astarion was unlawfully skilled as he sucked Gale down. The lack of need for oxygen translated to no breaks or moments for Gale to catch his breath. He truly had to focus to keep his hips from bucking up into the vampire’s mouth. He wanted to, so badly it was bordering on delirium.

As if sensing this Astarion pulled off and stood again. Leaning over him Astarion maintained a grip on his thigh in order to keep the contact. 

“Before you forget how to speak,” he waved his fingers in front of Gale’s face. 

Gale muttered the spell to coat Astarion’s fingers in oil. Well it had been intended to be just in fingers but he was too tired, too done to truly focus and enough appeared that some of it dripped onto his chest. 

Gale did not miss the glance Astarion snuck up at Tav, something passing between them that he was also too tired to try and decipher. 

“There’s oil in the dresser,” Tav said softly, fingers carding through Gale’s hair even though she was speaking to Astarion, “if you need more.”

Astarion gave a short nod before disappearing from Gale’s vision once more. 

No warning this time when Astarion’s mouth found him. Gale’s hips bucked upwards, unable to maintain his composure any longer. 

Astarion’s forearm braced across his hips then and all but pinned him down to the bed. 

Gale almost didn’t notice the finger as it pressed into him, mind preoccupied with the pleasure he was receiving. Dimly though he realized Astarion was right, Tav’s fingers were decidedly smaller. 

As Astarion worked his finger inside, expertly finding the spot that left Gale shouting, he continued drawing his cock into his mouth. He was drinking Gale down as if trying to swallow all of it. Gale was certain he was down the other man’s throat and the thought left him moaning, feet desperately trying to find purchase. Astarion held him fast, not allowing Gale to get any leverage. 

Above Gale, Tav was hushing him, or perhaps that was the sound of his blood swiftly vacating his brain. He couldn’t be sure any longer. 

Astarion had breeched him with two fingers now, pistoning them in and out of Gale. Each time making contact until Gael’s vision was devolving into spots of stars. 

He desperately hoped he’d come like this. If he did, he would be more than willing to get on his knees for Astarion. His hopes seemed to be for naught though. It didn’t matter how close he felt he was, there seemed to be just something out of reach keeping him from tipping over. 

In the last coherent vestiges of his brain Gale began to panic, wondering if this wasn’t the solution. Worried that even if they fucked there would be no release and he would die this way. 

“Gale,” Astarion snapped pulling his mouth off of him, “you’ve got to relax.”

“Shhh,” Tav urged him leading Gale to realize he was near hyperventilating. “It’ll be okay,” she soothed running a hand down the side of his face, “we’ve got you.”

Astarion’s fingers pulled out of him and Gale would later deny the whimper that was ripped from him. 

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Astarion announced, once more leaning over him, eyes desperately trying to catch on to his. “I worry if we let this go any longer you might have a stroke,” Gale could no longer tell if that was hyperbole or the truth. 

Both Astarion and Tav shifted him backward just a little until he was able to brace his feet at the edge of the bed. Then there was a brief loss of contact as Astarion worked his trousers off and Gale burned so hot Tav’s hand felt like ice on his skin. 

Astarion crawled up onto the bed between Gale’s planted feet. With little warning, he began pressing into Gale. If it hurt he couldn’t tell, the wave of relief, of calm overrode any other sensation he might have been feeling. 

“Shit,” Astarion panted above him, clearly just as affected by the sensation as Gale. 

Astarion doubled over as he began thrusting in and out of him. His hands coming to rest on either side of Gale’s arms, head hanging down so his face was lost to him. When one particular thrust slammed into that spot again Gale’s back bowed up off the bed and he gripped Astarion’s arms trying to pull him impossibly closer. 

A few more thrusts and Astarion all but dropped onto Gale’s chest. One hand hooked around behind Gale’s thigh, attempting to find leverage again. His cock was now trapped between them, rutting against Astarion’s stomach with each thrust. 

There were teeth at his throat, specifically fangs. Gale arched his neck on instinct rather than some desire to be bitten, but Astarion took the motion as permission and bit. 

The pain was sharp as it pushed him over the edge.

Gale cried out, back once again arching, as he came coating both of their chests in his spend. His arms shifted their hold, body moving again on instinct, and all but trapped Astarion against him. The vampire groaned, a wet sound, as he drank and Gale could feel his cock pulsing inside of him. Astarion’s hips were still save for small shudders as he spilled inside of Gale. Still drinking all the while. 

Gale was only vaguely aware of Tav’s voice and then Astarion’s mouth leaving his neck. The removal of his fangs worse than the insertion.

The next time he blinked he realized Astarion had slipped out of him, but hadn’t managed to go far. Gale allowed his arms to drop, effectively freeing him, but Astarion stayed laying against his chest. It was then that he became vaguely aware that room seemed to be returning to a normal temperature and his heart was slowly working down to a more livable rhythm.

They remained that way, Tav’s hands gently carding through both of their hair, until the sticky feeling on Gale’s chest became uncomfortable. Only then did Astarion push off of Gale complete, dropping onto the bed next to him. When Gale was finally able to shift he saw a strange dazed look on the vampire’s face. 

He reached out a hand and gently touched Astarion’s cheek. Astarion started, eyes darting immediately up to his. 

“I’m sorry,” was what fell out of Gale’s mouth instead of any of the number of things that he had considered saying.

Astarion shook his head, not managing to dislodge Gale’s hand entirely. “You no longer taste like bile,” he said, deflecting. 

For now, Gale was left with nothing to do but allow it. 

[ripjeff]

Minds Collide - Logicality Ch 2

Chapter 2

Word count: 1246

Patton sat resting his chin on his hand, staring off into a state of blissful daydreaming. He let out a wistful sigh. 

“You’re not listening, are you? Patton. Pat!” 

Patton blinked, focusing his eyes on his friend, “Huh? Oh, sorry Roman, what were you saying?” 

Roman rolled his eyes dramatically, “I was talking about my newest performance which you were supposed to help me run lines for but CLEARLY you have other things on your mind. What’s going on in that brain of yours Padre?” Roman eyed him curiously; a tall man of 20 years with light brown, flowy hair, and hazel eyes. He is undeniably handsome and a natural gentleman. He is the full package, and he knows it. Above all else, he is a sucker for romance.

Patton smiled sheepishly, “I’ve just been thinking… about a boy…” 

Roman gasped, his eyes widening in intrigue, “A boy?! Pat, you must tell me EVERYTHING!” 

Patton giggled, lying on his stomach in Roman’s bed. “It’s nothing he just… I met him in the library where I read to my kiddos. He’s so- he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

Roman smiled encouragingly, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this infatuated with someone. What’s he like? What’s his name?”

Patton fidgeted with Roman’s bedspread, smiling to himself as he thought about the boy in the library who he was becoming so fond of. “His name is Logan. He’s tall and so smart. Like so smart. Like smarter than anybody I’ve ever met, he’s like a computer.” He giggled, “But he’s like cute smart, y’know?” Roman laughed softly, Patton continuing. 

“He wears these glasses and he like always wears a tie? I don’t know if that’s just his quirk or what but he is always wearing a tie and he just… makes it work? I don’t know but he’s cute…”

Roman smiled, “What do y’all talk about?” 

Patton giggled, shaking his head, “Lots of stuff I don’t even understand. Like he loves space so he talks about space and I don’t understand any bit of it but I’m just like sure whatever you say cutie.”

Patton and Roman burst into a fit of laughter, Roman shaking his head endearingly at his sweet, homosexual friend. “You sure seem to like him a lot Patton but you’ve only known him what? A week? Two tops?” 

Patton shrugged with a slight smile, his cheeks turning pink. “I- I know it’s early but-” 

Roman cut him off, “I’m not judging you Padre, I get it, I’m just saying y’know, be careful. I don’t want my buddy to get his heart broken, okay?” 

Patton nodded, “I know! I don’t expect him to like be my boyfriend or anything. I know I don’t know him well yet but it doesn’t hurt anything to have a crush! It’s fun!”

Roman smiled, “That it is, my friend!” He accepted a hug from his fatherly friend, rubbing his back. Roman and Patton had a special bond and as much as Roman loved romance and, well, love; he worried about Patton. Patton rarely fell in love romantically, so he was excited for his friend. Despite his excitement, however, part of him was still worried. Nobody deserved to have a broken heart, much less sweet Patton. 

 Later the next day, Patton was back in the library to read to the kiddos. He showed up much earlier than necessary to have a chance to talk to Logan. Unsurprisingly, the glasses-wearing boy was sitting in his usual spot, reading his novel and drinking something from his Yeti. 

Patton smiled, holding a tray of cupcakes as he slid into the seat in front of Logan. “Hiiii Logan!” He exclaimed happily. 

Logan looked at him, placing his bookmark in his book before setting it aside, “Hello, Patton.” 

Patton watched him, his blue-green eyes bright and piercing. “How ya doing today?” 

Logan thought for a moment before giving a courteous nod. “I have been well, how are you?” 

Patton giggled at his formality, still not quite used to it. “I’m great! I have a surprise for you.” Logan raised a questioning eyebrow as Patton worked on taking the cover off of the tray of cupcakes he had placed in front of them on the table. He uncovered the tray to reveal several cupcakes decorated to look like cats, aside from one cupcake which didn’t quite look like the others. “We’re reading cat books this week instead of puppy books so I made cat cupcakes! I, uhm… I know you’re not so much of a fan of cats or puppy designs though so I made this one special for you!” He blushed as he pulled the unique-looking cupcake out of the tray, handing it to Logan with a napkin. The cupcake had dark blue frosting flattened on the top as the background with a planet drawn neatly on top, surrounded by stars. The cupcake looked professionally decorated and Patton smiled proudly at his work. 

Logan took the cupcake from his hands, staring at it for a moment before blinking and looking up at Patton. “This was very thoughtful Patton… thank you.” Patton giggled, his blush only growing darker. He watched as Logan took a bite from the expertly decorated cupcake. “Do you like it?”

Logan nodded contentedly, “That is quite delicious Patton, although your baked treats always taste satisfactory.” 

Patton nodded, giggling happily, “Thank you, Logan!” 

They spoke about Logan’s novel for a bit before falling into a comfortable silence, scrolling through their phones. Patton was scrolling through the internet, but he wasn’t very focused. He wanted to ask Logan out. Maybe not even on a date, but perhaps just to hang out and do something fun! He just had to find the courage to ask. He really liked talking to Logan and spending time with him, but he had no idea what Logan thought of him. He took in a nervous, shaky breath, setting his phone face-down on the table and smiling at Logan. “Hey, Logan…” 

Logan looked up from his phone at Patton, humming curiously, “Hm?”

Patton fidgeted nervously with his hands, “Would you like to hang out outside the library sometime? I was thinking we could see my friend Roman’s play together.”

Logan stared at him, studying his face as he thought over what Patton had said. He wasn’t used to someone asking him to go out and do anything, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Maybe it could be fun to go out and do something with a new friend? He shrugged slightly, “Okay… I can appreciate a theatrical performance.” 

Patton’s smile widened, “Really??! YAY!” he clapped his hands, and moved to hug Logan out of habit, backing out as Logan tensed up uncomfortably. Patton giggled quietly from embarrassment. “Sorry… A-Anyway! Can I give you my number? So that we can plan to go to the play?” 

Logan cleared his throat, nodding and opening his phone to his contacts, allowing Patton to add himself in as a contact and message himself so that he’d have Logan’s number. 

The rest of the day went as smoothly as it could, with the two falling into comfortable conversation until Patton had to go to the children’s section to begin his reading hour. Logan read his novel while Patton read to the children, sending glances over at Patton now and then. Although he didn’t quite know why or how to put it into words, he was looking forward to his plans with Patton.

[lex-feldz]

New York

Annabeth picked at the flowers on the table, waiting for someone who probably won’t show. She was at a coffee shop, waiting for her date she met online. It’s not even worth remembering which app it was from, whoever was going to show, would show. (Or not)

Eventually a ruggedly handsome man ushered in, going up to every woman in the place and talking to them. 

“Are you Anna Elizabeth?” He asked, hopelessly. 

“Yes, but I prefer to go by Annabeth.” She said. 

“Awesome. I’m Percy.” He smiled wide. 

“Oh.” Was all she managed, trying not to judge him. 

“I’m sorry I was late. I’m from New York originally and San Francisco has a very different layout than the city.” He chuckled, sitting down across from her. 

“I lived in New York for some time, it’s not too different.” She held her head high, maybe a little peeved at him for blaming his own incompetence on something that has no real ability to change. 

“Oh, cool, where did you live? I grew up in Brooklyn but bounced around Manhattan and the Bronx for the past couple of years. My Ma lives on the upper east side now.” He smiled genuinely, which might have warmed her insides a bit more than she’d like to admit. 

“I grew up in a town just out of the city, Scarsdale? Maybe you’ve heard of it?” 

“Oh damn, that’s, like, close to Yonkers and Mamo? Right?” He smiled.

“Yeah.” 

“That’s awesome, when did you leave?” 

“Before I moved out here for school. I went to Berkeley for architecture.” She gripped her cup. 

“Nice, I never went to college, too expensive.” He flushed. 

“It’s never too late, you know.” 

“Yeah, which is why I’m not worried. Like, my buddy, Jason, he’s been a Yale man since he was born. Guess where he ended up?” 

“Yale?” 

“SUNY Oneonta.” 

“Oh, that’s—” 

“Nothing like Yale, yeah, that’s what I said when he told me.” Percy’s eyes crinkled endearingly as he spoke about his friend, and joked with her. 

“So, what brought you to San Fran, then, Percy?” Annabeth asked, genuine curiosity flooding her. He seemed like such a New Yorker, born and raised, that it didn’t make sense as to why he would leave. 

“I still think of it as where I live, but for now, I’m out here to help my buddy Grover move into his internship. I don’t know, really.” 

“You just go on random dates?” 

“For fun, yeah.” 

“That’s….” She wasn’t really sure. 

“Weird?” 

“Yeah.” She giggled, relieved he said it. 

“What can I say? Some might say I’m a masochist.” 

“Some.” She took a sip of her drink. 

“Some might say that the ones that don’t immediately get up, are as well.” He whispered.

“Oh, well, I— I just like coffee.” 

“If you ever find yourself in New York you should give me a call.” “I will.”