#a whole bunch of other folks writes too

[fraugwinska]

Whoop - There it is! :> Glad to be back, folks! It's been too long, but I finished this behemoth of a Oneshot (7.1 k words FTW!) and I can't wait to see what you're thinking! Riding Alastor? ✅ Rut/Heat? ✅ NSFW? ✅ (Sorry minors!)

Thank you to @macabr3-barbi3 and also @ritualofcirice for encouraging me throughout the writing process - I'd still be rewriting and overthinking if it wasn't for you! <3 ILY

“Alastor, again?! Seriously, this has to stop. Look at the poor girl.”

“Oh Charlotte, don’t make an elephant out of a house fly – she knows it’s all in good fun, don’t you darling? No hard feelings, hm?”

You forced yourself to smile, although it must’ve looked strained, as you were still trying to get your tail to depuff.

“He’s right – no harm done, Charlie. It’s fine.”

Of course, it was anything but fine. Your whole system was still dialed in on the danger you had felt yourself in not two minutes ago. You should’ve been used to it by now. But you weren’t, and your feverish, nervous state you had been in lately didn’t help either.

Alastor had found sick pleasure in tormenting you since the moment you stepped foot in this cursed hotel.

You came after speaking to Cherri one night in the shady bar you worked at the time, not really believing that you could actually be redeemed but what she promised you’d find there: That the people there were weird but actually bearable to be around and lodging was free. The prospect of quitting your job, freeing yourself from that lewd, ambiguous boss of yours that also happened to be your landlord with a tendency to let his eyes linger too long on all the wrong places was too tempting to pass. Cherri’s latter statement was right, the room you were provided was almost as big as your flat, and the princess refused any compensation… even the meals were free. And for the first five minutes you thought her first one was, too. Charlotte Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer himself, welcomed you with open arms, and the other residents were a quirky, eccentric but still mostly friendly and fun bunch. But then it had begun – small at first, bolder by every passing day.

Alastor’s insistent, relentless, illogical bullying.

You knew about the radio demon, of course. You were neither naïve nor stupid - despite some acquaintances of yours would beg to differ - having heard and read too much about him not to be respectful yet distanced. Wary, but polite.

You were both woodland creatures, although he, despite being a deer demon, normally a prey animal, in a hilarious twist turned out far more powerful, dangerous and predatory than you. A fox demon, slender, clever and with an air of elegance and mystery around you – well, at least on the outside. The only thing you shared with your animalistic form was that you had a quick-witted, although very scattered, mind. You were a klutz, often speaking before thinking, getting yourself into trouble more often than being able to think or talk your way out of it. But you had been careful to tame that loose tongue of yours around him, not wanting to get on his bad side. And you weren’t, not in that literal sense.

You had barely introduced yourself, your new room key in hand and following the deer that enthusiastically offered to guide you to the right floor “as a good host would”, when you felt your foot being grabbed and twisted mid-step, making you tumble down a full flight of stairs. The grinning demon remained standing on the top, looking down on you with glowing eyes and a smug smile while you struggled to stand back up, your ankle sharply throbbing with pain. “Oh my, seems you are a flight risk, my dear.” He had said with a low chuckle, and if you’d usually reason that this incident had just been due to your general clumsiness, the deep satisfaction you could see in his eyes as you limped back up the stairs made it apparent that this wasn’t the case here.

From then on, stranger things just appeared to happen to you. They were slight nuisances at first, like getting locked in rooms that didn't even have keyholes or following stairs leading into nowhere, ending up in you getting exceedingly lost or terribly late to Charlies exercises, or furniture simply collapsing underneath you during dinners or get-togethers. Those incidents always were inconspicuously accompanied by the presence of Alastor, who appeared seemingly out of nowhere and with some kind of casual joke he cracked at your misfortunes, but there always was something about him that told you these so-called jokes were in a way maliciously aimed at you, more thinly-veiled accusations more than lighthearted antics.

As time went by his efforts became less discreet - he tried less and less to hide the fact that he was the cause of your various misfortunes. Things you carried with you disappeared, just to land into his hands... always personal, embarrassing stuff that he theatrically and loudly announced to anyone near before giving it back to you. "You surely didn't mean to drop this, darling, though I must say that sage green doesn't suit you at all." he had purred one time, twirling some lacy piece of underwear of yours in his hands when you had retrieved your laundry to carry it back to your room, holding it just long enough out of the reach of your panicked attempts to snatch it from him so that the whole lobby could stare in interest, pity or amusement before he finally let it fall into your hands. You were tripped even more, his shadow blatantly laughing at you from under the feet it was holding to make sure you'd fall, and his obviously faked tutting at it with that devious smile of his stung even more than the words that came with it.

"Now, now, don't look so affronted, my dear - what's a harmless prank between friends? No hard feelings, hm?"

That became a catchphrase of his - a question not so much directed towards the victim but an exclamation directed at everyone present to assure them that everything happening was harmless and perfectly okay. And you always played along.

Truth was - despite rhyme or reason – that you were infatuated with him. His witty sense of humor, that mischievous grin that set off so many alarm bells yet was oddly charming, the power and knowledge he was carrying inside him that showed on how effortlessly he handled any situation... maybe it was because he was almost everything you were lacking that you endured his relentless teasing. In addition to the respect you had for the older demon's dangerous side, the little flicker of hope in the corner of your mind that he might someday turn from 'funny but cruel' to just 'fun' if you'd prevail long enough was too strong and it became easier every day for you to try not to be bothered with each new stunt Alastor would pull, hoping that today would be the day where something in the impenetrable brick wall that seemed to be him would crack, allowing your real self to show through and find some acknowledgement in his eyes.

What had just occurred, however, had you question that hope tremendously. You had felt hot and feverish since yesterday, suspecting you'd maybe coming down with something. But as much as you tried to avoid the others as to not spread whatever disease you were cooking up, you seemed to keep running into them.

Not all of them, just the men, though.

New residents, delivery men, even Husk and Angel seemed to smell you from afar. They popped up everywhere, and you thought yourself delusional when they stood unusually close to you, were uncomfortably touchier and their eyes more intense and even hungry when they stared at you as you practically fled from them with the excuse of getting sick. The only one who kept his distance for once was Alastor, who you only saw once, with a twitching grin on his face and a dangerous aura of his shadows around him that seemed to flicker with dark energy when Julius, one of the newest hotel guests, had cornered you and put one of his bear paws much too low on your hips, suggesting to get a drink with him to cool you off. Though you had a feeling that the radio demons glowing eyes continued to stalk you, even without seeing him again. You had decided to skip dinner and just go to bed, hoping that whatever was happening to you, it'd be over by the morning.

But the night didn't bring any relief, you just woke up in more sweat and short-breathed exhaustion, filled with a dreading sense of anticipation for something unknown to you, as if your body was in constant alert mode. After checking the time, finding it close to breakfast and your stomach twisting with hunger, you made your way downstairs, hoping it was early enough for the others to still sleep and to catch Charlie alone and talk to her, not knowing how to describe the feelings you had felt but sure that somehow the hellborn princess could tell you what the hell was wrong with you. But as soon as you turned corner on the first landing base, you had felt it - electricity in the air.

In the blink of a moment, the floor became dark and gloomy, shadows creeping out from the growing void’s fraying edges, and instinctively you turned on your heels to practically fly down the hundreds of steps just in time before the deafening screech hit your ears. Every strand of your copper fur stood on its root as you panted, flaying yourself around another corner and watching a beast with familiar, yet obscurely twisted and long antlers crash into the wall behind you in frenzied pursuit. For one second too long you were frozen in place, realizing two things.

One: That it was Alastor that was chasing you.

And Two: That as soon as you knew it was him, your body reacted with a sudden wave of heat and ache, the thought of fleeing completely wiped from your mind but instead turning as if to throw itself into his waiting claws.

The momentum of the crash made him swipe at you, and without that one second too long that you would’ve needed to react, you didn't have time to dodge it. Instead, you had lost balance and fell backwards down the stairs, the impact on the tiled marble floor of the hotel lobby so loud it had Charlie and Vaggie rushing out of the kitchen and hurry towards your shocked and sprawled out, but miraculously unharmed form.

"Are you sure you're okay? You’re burning up…" Charlie asked, her hands gently rubbing the back of your neck as both women helped you back up.

"You look pretty rough..." Vaggie added, her brows furrowed. You were sure you looked like a complete mess - your hair sticking out in all directions, your tail bristled, your shirt damp and the fabric clinging to your flushed body, your pupils blown and your breath shallow.

"I-I'm fine, it's just a little fever. But, listen-"

A hand on your shoulder made you instantly mute, long, red tipped claws digging slightly into the thin fabric of your shirt, not breaking through but still stinging the flesh underneath. Its heat soaked like hot oil through the cloth down into your skin, burning its way deep into your core.

"How about I escort you back to your room, darling, as my way of apologizing for my little... shenanigans. We wouldn't want your current state to... affect the others. Does that sound reasonable?"

His voice was sickeningly sweet, almost too innocent, the smile on his face wide and his eyes twinkling in almost a warning that only you caught. From the corners of your eyes you saw Vaggie turning red with anger and ready to blow up at him, and Charlie, worriedly fidgeting with a conflicted face. If you'd stay silent, the girls surely would take you out of his grasp safely. You could escape him. Any logical mind would take that chance without second guessing, especially after what happened just mere minutes ago.

"That'd be nice, Alastor."

The walk back to your room was tense and quiet. His hand had left your shoulder, and the coldness it left behind made you want to wince. Your mind was still fuzzy and your body aflame, but as you climbed up the stairs, his tall figure close behind you, the space between the two of you suddenly felt much too large after the novelty of actual, physical contact. It just occurred to you that indeed, he had never touched you before - the pushing, shoving and teasing all done by the sentient extension of his shadow companion that followed him everywhere he went. But he had never directly touched you - until now. Innocently enough, and yet you couldn't seem to shake the weight of the ghostly hand still present on the dip of your neck. The thought alone made your tail shiver, and the sudden realization made your legs move faster, the tension in the air almost suffocating.

Reaching your door, you take a deep breath. The air around you smelled musky and thick, a scent that you could've sworn wasn't there before, and the feeling of his looming presence behind you almost makes you dizzy. You turn the key with slightly shaking hands and turn as you open it, expecting him to make a snide remark and say his goodbyes for now. Instead, you don't even get to move your head before his hand returns, this time on your lower back, to all but shove you into the room, followed by him, and the loud thud and click told you he'd closed it shut and locked it, the chiming of your key on the keychain shrill in your ears.

"You seem to be in quite the predicament, my dear."

He hummed, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, and as much as your instincts told you to back away, the fire inside you had flared up and you stood still, waiting, anticipating.

"Your little display yesterday was a nice touch. A little too theatrical, perhaps, but not everyone has the natural talent for drama like I do, hah!"

He chuckled, coming to a halt barely a foot in front of you, his eyes gleaming with something you had seen before, but couldn't name. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice level.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't play coy now, little vixen. You weren't really discreet in your search for a willing mate, but I thought you'd at least show some decorum not to flaunt your pheromones like this." You stared at him, a bit dumbfounded and the gears in your brain turning much too slow.

"...Mate? Wh-what pheromones? What are you talking about, Alastor?"

He blinked, tilting his head. His gaze was piercing, and yet you could've sworn he had a hard time keeping it on you, as if he wanted to look anywhere but at you. "Don't tell me you don't know?" he purred, a dark smirk pulling at his lips, a slight glimmer of the yellowish hue of his sharp teeth showing from behind them.

"How quaint. I'm afraid I didn't take into consideration that you are not the type to make yourself acquainted with the hellish form you took on. Why, you're in heat, darling. A very... desperate and needy one, at that."

You were unable to speak. You had known that something was off yesterday, when the men started crowding around you like vultures, their eyes hungry and their approaches over-eager, but not once had the word 'heat' come up in your mind. You had been in Hell for not even nine months, not exactly long enough to really explore all its nuances and differences. You had only heard the term 'heat' being used before in relation to animals – which, in hindsight, you technically were, in a way. Your ears and cheeks burned and your head was swimming, your tongue like a dry piece of sandpaper in your mouth.

"H-how did you... why did you..."

Alastor sighed, taking a few steps towards the windows. "As I said, darling, you weren't very subtle. And neither were the buffoons that stumbled over their own feet trying to make you choose them. The smell of a vixen in heat is hard to resist, after all." His head fell back, and the expression he wore when he looked at you was both frightening and intoxicating. "And the scent that clings to you is absolutely divine."

His words made you blush and shudder, the ache between your thighs growing so embarrassingly strong you quickly tore your eyes from him and looked at your hands that were fumbling with your damp shirt. He hadn't even touched you, but your body was already begging for him, as if it knew his presence would be the solution to all your suffering. Why were you reacting like this to him, and not the others that had swarmed you yesterday? It made no sense, none of it did.

"Why were you chasing me, then?"

The question escaped you before you could bite your tongue, and he turned around, a brow raised but his smile wider now and the smug amusement that was so habitual of him returning to his eyes .

"Well, my dear, you were running."

He laughed at your expression of shock and dismay, obviously proud of himself as you opened your mouth and closed it again and again, no words leaving it. You watched him raise his hand up as a means to silence your inevitable ramble, to stop you before you were even able to find something to say. "Although I have to admit that I quite lost myself a bit in the heat of the moment - pun intended. Which brings us back to topic."

He was closer now. Not fully in your personal space but in the almost invisible borders between friendly distance and invading closeness, arms behind his back and a mocking grin on his face.

"Now what will you do, little vixen in heat? Unlike our earthly counterparts, demons in heat stay in it unless they've bred sufficiently - Oh no, it'll only become worse the longer it’s avoided. Do you have one of the many low-rank rutting sacks that are roaming about the hotel just for a chance to fill you up in mind to sate your needs? Most of those unworthy imbeciles would happily spread their seed into you, but - Oh dear, where's the fun in settling?"

You couldn't think straight. You knew what he was insinuating but couldn't bring yourself to truly understand and accept the gravity of the situation. It felt too much like a dream, your mind foggy with fever and every nerve and muscle in your body aching. You knew by now that your mind had chosen the one you wanted long before your body forced a decision. But despite the painful want you were scared of saying it out loud, just to be rejected. Left wanting. The perfect and most cruel tease he could use against you yet, delivered by your own damned nature.

Alastor clicked his tongue, pacing from your one side to the other like a shark in the span of your thoughts that slowly began to settle, rubbing his chin in false contemplation. Your eyes followed him absent-mindedly, and when the whirlwind of your thoughts quieted for a moment, you saw with shock that pearly beads of sweat began to form under that fiery fringe of his hair and the fingers tapping on his chin twitched ever so slightly.

“Well, your scent certainly tells me what you seem to be unable to. But good things only come for the ones that ask for it, darling.”

Again, the tingling that started to become oh so familiar shot down to your belly with the heavy pull that the glint in his eyes had on you. Maybe it was the primal need you felt playing a trick on you but something in his composure, normally so perfectly put and stoic, struck you as hastier and more unrefined. The barely hidden jerk of his ears, the slightly glossy sheen in his eyes, and that intensifying smell of musk and moss and spices oozing from him all were subtle but noticeable telltale signs, just small imperfections in his person, tiny cracks of his façade that grew larger and louder the longer he was alone with you. And finally, they began to speak a language you knew.

Without knowing the details, you became aware, sensing that he, too, wasn't nearly as collected as he liked to present himself. As if the fact that he was here, alone in the room with you was enough to allow him to slip up, ever so subtly and most certainly not intentional. You had noticed from day one that it was nearly impossible to truly get a read of his emotions, an impressive trait you envied to some degree. Yet, the most rational part of his brain appeared to have shut off when his pupils widened ever so slightly as you closed the distance between your bodies, finally throwing caution and fear and hesitancy to the wind. It was a leap of faith.

"I… want you. If..." Your voice was shaky and breathy, and everything in you wanted to pounce him, touch him, bite and scratch and bind him to you, but you resisted, both scared and excited for his reply, the space between your trembling bodies paper thin. "... if you'll have me."

Before your brain could really register what's happening, his smile became predatory, his red irises swallowed almost completely by his dilated pupils, making the blackness appear brighter than his naturally glowing eyes, the shadows around him writhe and grow.

"Oh, I indeed intend to have you, little fox." he cooed, an echo-like echo mixing in with the static of his usual voice. It sounded wrong, demonic, but it lit a flame of pure want within you. It made you frantic in the need to touch him, and the first and only thing your trembling fingers could grasp was his red coat, the instinct you acted on so intense you ripped the fabric from his shoulders and sent buttons flying as your hands sprouted black claws.

For a second, you were blind with panic but his dark, rumbling laugh eased the fear, your head tilting up as he lifted his taloned hands, moving over your head and dragging the tie and the suit jacket along. He held your stare as the two items landed next to you on the floor and his head tilted, a silent, cocky, knowing approval of the first piece of your real, raw self he had gotten to see, and the gesture made you almost break from under his hands as they went back into motion, hungrily peeling the sweat-damp shirt off your back. He was quick yet careful, but when you felt those sharp claws of his scraping over the curve of your back you couldn’t stifle the wanton whimper they drew from you.

He shrugged the remaining pieces of shredded, crimson fabric off his shoulders and pulled on the sleeves of his ripped dress shirt, seemingly not as affected or distraught as you by having lost almost all of its buttons in your careless undressing of him, and it had you lick over your fangs that poked through when your senses became clouded with desire.

His skin faded seamlessly into soft, thin fur right under his clavicles, spreading over his lean chest and arms and towards his flat, toned belly and his hips, where it began to look like it continued on his legs but was covered by the high waisted pants of his immaculate dress outfit. Hypnotized by his alluring form, you barely noticed how quickly he took piece after piece of your clothing off of your sweaty body, the fire in you fanned by the mere feeling of his sharp fingertips dancing over your hot skin, until there was no fabric left to take off. You only realized you were completely nude once he pulled your head up to face him by your chin, his grin glistening as if he was salivating at the view of you - and it drove you mad. His other hand reached around you, finding the base of your bristled tail, long fingers raking through the fur and pulling teasingly on it.

"What a fine specimen of a vixen you are, darling..."

You don't give him time to crack any more jokes as you wrapped yourself around him, rubbing your head against his neck with a growl in a primal need to rub your own scent into him, marking him, wanting him - no - needing him and him only to ease the infernal heat bubbling inside you. The only one worthy, your instincts were telling you, and the thought was taking a hold of you, dragging you down whether you wanted or not. The sheer feeling of his exposed chest brushing against yours was almost overwhelming and your hips instinctively rutted against his, begging and silently pleading for him to fulfill his duty as your chosen mate. A chuckle, resonating deep in his chest, roused from him as he gripped your shoulder with eager force, throwing his weight into you and pushing the two of you the last couple of steps you've still had left onto your bed. Your hands found their way into the soft, maroon fur of his ears, his silky scarlet locks and down his lean, muscular back, clawing and pulling and kneading as the urge to ruin him just as he was ruining you became overwhelmingly powerful and undeniable.

"Aren't we eager now? So desperate to be bred."

A tight tug on your copper fur, which drew an unexpectedly lewd and desperate sound from you, tore your eyes away from the straining, bulging fabric of his pants, where they had previously been staring for a moment too long, your wide blown pupils reflecting his. With your cheeks, chest and shoulders flushed, you saw that a faint pink colored his features, which darkened more the longer he was looking you up and down, the large hand on your side flexing, scratching and kneading every inch it could reach, as if he was still trying to collect himself.

"Y-You don't look too u-uninterested as well." you stutter as his warm lips trailed over your collarbone and down to your nipples, softly sucking one while his other hand twirled the other between his talented fingers, the pinch deliciously painful. When he flicked his tongue out and you yelped at the intense, electrifying and unbelievable feeling he shot into you with that single, simple move, his laughter vibrated against the sensitive flesh between his lips and you swear it's the first time you ever heard him really, genuinely laughing - a deep and powerful and sincere sound. You can feel it throughout your whole body and soul and something within your mind flickers to life - as if his laugh had recharged a part that had been turned off and numb during all of your times in Hell so far, only now to feel truly alive, you and Alastor’s souls intertwining and connecting in a way you had never believed possible before.

"Finally growing into your fangs, I see. Well, if that's the case then..."

He moved swiftly, shifting his weight and pulling you with him, until your places were reversed and you sat on top of him with his hands on your waist pressing you down, down, down - the clothed bulge pressed against the junction of your thighs. A heady moan was ripped from the depth of your throat as your sex ground down against the coarse cloth of his pants, the delicious friction all the more tantalizing for the simple fact that it wasn't nearly enough.

His pupils were huge, black circles with ticking dials in them, nearly completely swallowing the rich crimson, and his normally discreetly hidden antlers sprouted with loud cracks, growing exponentially with each new sound that broke the seal of your lips, each buck of your hips or twitch of your thighs.

"... prove to me how you deserve to receive my seed."

As the words fully hit you, all blood rushes downwards and your body responds on its own. Your mouth latches on his, not sweetly, not gently - wetly, harshly, the clash of tongues and fangs drawing blood, iron and spice spilling in both of your mouths as a new wave of hot arousal wets your center, seeping into his pants.

With both clawed hands planted on his chest you could feel every single tremor, twitch and move of his - the furious pulse of his blood running under your fingertips, the shudder as you breathed his name against the heat of his jugular - you wanted to memorize, tattoo each second into your mind because despite the hazy frenzy you found yourself in it didn't elude you that this might be a once in an afterlife time thing. The thought pained you, and you felt tears prick in the corners of your eyes, which went completely disregarded by both you and the one so voluntarily trapped beneath you.

His claws raked up and down the smooth, soft skin of your sides, tracing every inch and curve and divet and painting them with red streaks, before he finally - FINALLY - moved them to his belt, the clinking sound of his buckle opened music to your ears. The buck of his hips in an attempt to get his slacks to slide lower, his soft grunt as his cock sprang up when he freed it from its clothed confines, it all drove you even madder, his powerful aura and the heaviness of his swirling shadows tipping and bending your senses as you desperately sought to draw out more of these delicious sounds, more of that want that was so obvious now in his eyes and staggered breath.

You lean forward as your tail whipped and shivered as it stood up bristled in arousal, almost losing your balance for a second, bracing yourself on his bared chest as your tongues, teeth and lips crashed together again. Jolts of white-hot electricity shot straight down to your core at the feeling of the damp tip of his cock catching on the wet and slick opening of your folds. A slow drag upwards and your nails clawed over his pectorals and ribs, his throat answering to your touch with a deep, feral growl, almost beast-like as he slid effortlessly up between your lower lips, the combined juices that leaked from his and your loins slicking the hard length. He didn't let you sheath himself into your throbbing heat though, as if to test you, and you whined as you lowered yourself onto the length of his shaft, rutting slowly on it to satiate the hunger that seemed to only grow.

It was merciful torture, a tease you didn't mind for once as the tip of his cock hit your clit every other slide and the vibration of his taunting purrs traveled throughout your spine, leaving behind a tingling burn. It had you toss back your head, the drool hanging from your lips, completely involuntary but curiously not ashamed of it.

"Al-Alastor, please...I need..." You whined, half out of breath and delirious as the sensation of his tip pushing up against your entrance just didn't seem to be enough, the emptiness inside you demanding to be filled. The very corners of his mouth twitched as he stared up at you, your hips rolling helplessly against his, panting and moaning and begging.

"Need what, darling?"

Your brain was foggy with lust, your fingers twitching as you leaned backwards, your claws digging so deep into the soft fur of his chest that they drew blood, and the fire raging inside you wild and untamable. You wanted to speak and plead, to make your tongue cooperate and to say all the right things, to seduce and coax his shaft to fill you the way you knew only his would, but his sultry yet rough voice seemed to have put a stop to whatever reasonable and rational thought that had somehow still remained. Eloquence eluded you in this desperate state, and the only words leaving your gaped mouth were broken and hoarse.

"Mate me. Fill me. Breed me."

"There's a good girl..." he rasped, one clawed hand firmly squeezing the side of your waist, while the other brushed the thin line of tears, sweat and drool hanging from the corner of your agape lips before holding his swollen cock straight for you to impale yourself on it with a moan.

"Take all of me in, little vixen, show me you are worth it. There you go..."

The stretch was blissful, but not as much as the euphoric waves crashing down on you once your greedy core had swallowed up the entirety of his length, your velvety insides clamping down on the girth the way a vise would. His sly coaxing sent another surge of raw, primal and animalistic passion rippling throughout your body, and with strange triumph you felt him experiencing the same kind of exhilaration, making you mindlessly jump forward and down to fully grind yourself down on his member with all the leverage your thighs provided, while simultaneously his strong grip on your waist and him bucking up into you in that sinfully precise way allowed for him to immediately slam right into your most intimate spot, burying his entire shaft into your dripping, welcoming heat.

Falling in sync was shockingly easy, his muscles as responsive as yours and your bodies molding together like two pieces of a perfect puzzle. He thrusted upwards with a force that took your breath away, forcing the air of your lungs to flow out with the repeated bounce and pressure, your ears ringing with the rhythmical slap of skin against skin. Relentlessly, minute after minute passed, and he cruelly ripped you away from tipping over the edge multiple times, your sanity tearing at the seams whenever he slowed you down on his throbbing cock.

In and out, up and down, faster and faster your two bodies worked together and his thick tip and tantalizing ridges brushed all too perfectly against every right spot as his pace quickened once again, making your eyes roll back and the need to cry out his name through desperate sobs over and over and over again became unstoppable, each time a little less distinct and a little more wild than the last.

"You are quite the noisy little one, aren't you? ǤØØĐ. I do love the way you scream my name." he so much as growled as you did exactly that when his fingers gripped on your hips even tighter, his hold more firm as he forced your trembling, exhausted frame up and down, each new hit a bit harder and deeper than the previous one, his entire body tensing as he picked up the speed to a feverish and merciless intensity that had you cry out with pain and pleasure alike.

"β€Ǥ for your release darling, tell me who you want to be filled by once again."

"A-Alas...tor! I'm- fuck... please, let- I w-want only y-ou..."

It was all too much - too hot and too big and too deep, too close and too far away - thick, hot tears joined the sweat and drool that ran down your face. You wished it was over and yet that it would never end, that you could stay frozen like this for the rest of eternity - filled and aching, burning and melting on him, giving and taken from. You were broken, yet pieced together at his hands, and all of a sudden, just like that, he moved you up and his cock felt so much thicker than before this time. With one last violent push he pressed you deep into his lap - You screamed as you felt something swelling inside you, interlocking the both of you as he came right when your own vision turned first white, then black while you mercifully collapsed on top of him, finally being allowed your long-craved release. Hot seed painted your insides and made your toes curl, his cock twitching deep inside you as he gasped through the last ropes of thick and warm release. It lasted and lasted, his hand frantically stroking over your spine and down your whipping tail while he shushed you and purred praise after praise into your folded ears.

It took a few long moments for the fog to clear from your mind before you realized you had buried your nose and mouth into the crook of his neck, teeth sunken in his taupe flesh and fur unconsciously. You dared to turn your head enough to watch his face - his eyes had returned to their usual shades of red, and the engorged branches of his antlers were slowly retracting back to the small, hook shaped ones nestling at the crown of his head. He was still smiling, wide and satisfied and superior almost. You gingerly retracted your fangs from his neck, but when you attempted to unmount him – rationality, and with it shame, creeping back into your consciousness - Alastor's arms locked firmly around your bare frame, rendering you unable to move.

"So eager to get rid of me, already?" he cooed, a chuckle rising from his chest. "I wouldn't advise to move yet, my little vixen - Not while we're knotted."

"We're... knotted...?!"

He nods, and you follow his intense stare down to where you and him were still connected. Sure enough, you couldn't make out his shaft itself but a noticeable bump stretching the flushed lips of your sex impossibly wide, the sight causing you to gasp and tear your eyes away in shameful realization. A tidal wave of blood flushed your cheeks - partly due to arousal, but mostly because of embarrassment and confusion, and you willed yourself to stay calm and not to freak out. When you looked back to him you found him grinning, his expression the picture of amusement but there was something tender in the glimmering ruby eyes that looked up to you. It felt strange that even though you were sitting on top of Alastor, you still felt small and submissive to him, how much dominance and assertiveness he could hold even in a position like this.

"How long...?" you managed to ask, avoiding to look at him by turning your head aside, staring at the mess of ripped and torn cloths on the carpet.

"How long?" he echoes, but there's a pause until he hums a dark and pleased sound, "Well, darling, your guess is as good as mine. Despite what you may think, I've never knotted with anyone before."

You thought your heart would jump from your chest and flutter through the room when his hand softly petted the base of your fluffy tail before his knuckles ever so lightly traced the line of your back. His other arm still held you tightly, and his fingertips danced over the heated skin of your side, the soft caresses a sharp contrast to the way he'd handled you only a few minutes prior. You were overwhelmed by the sheer gentleness and intimacy, the vulnerability it made you feel, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.

"Relax, my little vixen. You've been so good for me, so now let me service you while we wait."

Too stunned and overstimulated to respond you feel his mouth licking and kissing along the various bruises and cuts scattered over your chest and torso, his hands soothingly stroked every inch of your sweat-damp body, tracing the lines of the scratches and welts he had left on your hips and waist while he still managed to somehow hold you still. Every touch and kiss had your tail bristle and quiver, a whimper leaving your throat, but he didn't stop until his lips were pressed to the pulse on your neck, the steady and heavy heartbeat drumming against his nose and chin.

"You know, I knew you'd come to your senses and give in to my advances eventually, darling. Although I didn't think it'd take you to get into a heat to finally admit it."

"Your wh-..."

He latched onto your breast, sucking a little too harshly on the sensitive nipple as if that’d answer your unfinished question, and the yelp that tore from your throat turned into a moan when his teeth raked over the nub before his tongue flicked out, soothing the pain he had caused while your head swirled in confusion.

Advances?

What did he mean, advances?

All he had done since you two met had been taunting and teasing and chasing and ridiculing you... right? Another sharp bite on your sore bud had you gasp, partly by pain but also by epiphany.

Like a boy on the playground, pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes, Alastor had tormented you, chased you, tripped and caught you, waiting for you to get the hint - No hard feelings, hm?

All this time, every day and any second, in his own weird, twisted way, he had been showing a perverted version of affection and pursued you.

You weren't sure how to react, what to feel - there was too much to wrap your head around and no way in hell you'd be able to sort through it all right now, with his cock still locked inside you and his lips wrapped around your breast, still teasing, still taunting. Although now, with the context you were given, you welcomed it, wanted it even. The more you thought about it the more it all fell into place, and his actions towards you suddenly felt less and less like harassment and more like a tremendously badly executed attempt at wooing. But it was oh-so in character for him, the enigma that was the Radio Demon, and you would've laughed if his ministrations on your chest and his gently swaying hips wouldn't have coaxed your body slowly but surely steer into yet another, but softer - almost lazy - orgasm.

"You are... o-oh god... the biggest p-pain in the ass, Alastor…"

He laughed, another genuine and carefree one, the vibration of his voice tickling your flesh as you came again with a pitiful moan and he let go of the rosy, pert nipple to lift his head, the soft and tender smile and the glint of his sharp teeth a sight you knew you'd never be able to forget.

"That's what they all say, dear."

Tag, you're it! - @diffidentphantom @sirens-and-moonflowers @tayraedoll @catticora @valerie-is-in-the-cupboard as well as my fab four (whose fics carried me through my unavioidable vertigo pause)

LOVE YOU @hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes and @synamartia <3

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Hi! First let me just say I love all of your writing, it’s so amazing and you capture the characters perfectly! I was wondering if I could rq a little headcanon/story/whatever about pre portal (and pre Bill) Ford and Reader who are exploring the mysteries of Gravity falls together. They come back after a rough encounter with a monster, cue patching up each others wounds that leads into love confession and first kiss! 🤭 Totally up to you whether to end it there or go further. Thank you!

A/n: 👏👏Ford is such a cutie and this would have been a whole lot better if tumblr didn't delete half of it.

It wasn't supposed to get this out of hand, some town's folk mentioned of seeing something in the woods. Curious you and Ford decided to look for said creature. You never in your life would have thought was a bunch of gnomes trying to find someone to marry, though it became worse when the leader picked you to be his bride.

Something that Ford wasn't to keen about, then one messy battle later you and the man limped back towards his little house.

Wincing, Ford gritted his teeth as you applied alcohol to his cheek to clean the cuts as he held one hand holding his side. "I am sorry for dragging you in on this...I should have realized it was a bunch of nomes harassing people."

Biting back a snort, you shook your head as you gave him a teasing grin. "It's fine Ford...I mean at least someone find's me desirable."

Parting his lips, Ford grasped your hand as he gave it a squeeze. A hiss escaping his lips, his extra finger giving you some comfort in this situation. "Don't say that!"

He did his best to not sutter out a protest, cheeks now a deep red. "Y-You're wonderful, smart." He paused giving you a shy smile. "And I like you." His voice weak as his free hand fixed his glasses.

Eye's going wide after Ford's confession, your body relaxed as you gave his hand a squeeze resting your head against his. You felt warmth creep up your neck as you tried to ignore your heart pounding in your chest. "I...I like you too Ford."

"You do?! I."

You never got the chance to answer Ford as his lips pressed against yours. It was far from perfect, nothing like in the book's you read about but you still enjoyed it because it was with Ford.

It was with the one you cared most about.

Breaking the kiss, Ford took a deep breath in as he rested his head against your own. "I would like to do more...once I recover because I think one of those Gnomes broke my ribs." He hissed in pain as you helped him stand.

Letting out a soft laugh, you placed a kiss to his sleep as you helped him to the couch. "I would like that, get some rest okay." Leaning in you placed a kiss to his then another one against his lips. "And thank you for saving me Ford."

"Anything for you."

[dailyadventureprompts]

Monsters Reimagined: Yeenoghu, Demon Lord of Insatiable Hunger

It's been some years since I did my overhaul on the lore of the gnolls and how they embody the weird de/humanization that goes on with various monsters over d&d's history. Ever since I've had more than a few folks write in asking about how I would handle the default Gnoll God Yeenoghu, who exists in a similar state of "Kill everything that ever existed" to Orcus and a good portion of the game's other late game threats, thematically flat and not really useful for building stories around.

For a while I've avoided doing this post because I thought it might skew a little too close to my personal philosophy, and risk going from simply being influenced by my views to an outright soapbox. I personally hold that despite being part of our nature hunger is the source of the majority of human cruelty, and if society and cooperation are the tools we developed to best fight against the threat of famine, it is fear of that famine that allows the powerful to control society and secure their positions of privilege.

I've also dealt with disordered eating in a prior period of my life, alternating between neglecting my body's needs and punishing myself for needing in the first place. I'm well acquainted with hunger and the hollowing effect it can have, though I'd never claim to know it so well as someone who went hungry by anything other than choice and self hatred.

Learning to love food again saved saved my life. The joy of eating, of feeling whole and nourished, yes, but there was also the joy of making: of experimenting, improving, providing, being connected to a great tradition of cultivation which has guided our entire species.

If I was going to talk about an evil god of hunger, I was going to have to touch on all of that, and now that it's out in the open I can continue with a more thematic and narrative discussion on the beast of butchery below the cut.

What's wrong: Going by the default lore, there's not much that really separates Yeenoghu from any other chaotic evil mega-boss. He wants to kill everything in vicious ways, and encourages his followers to do the same. He's there so that the evil clerics can have someone to pray to because the objectively good gods are on the party's side and wouldn't help a bunch of cannibalistic slavers.

This is boring, we've done this song and dance before, and the only reason that there are so many demon lords/evil gods/archdevils like this is because the bioessentialism baked into the older editions of the game's lore was also a theological essentialism, and that every group had to have their own gods which perfectly embodied their ethos and there was no crossover whatsoever, themes be damned.

Normally I'd do a whole section about "what can be salvaged" from an old concept, but we're scraping the bottom of the barrel right from the inset. Likewise my trick of combining multiple bits of underwritten d&d mythology to make a sturdier concept isn't going to work as most of d&d's other gods of hunger or famine are similar levels of paper thin.

How do we fix it: I want Yeenoghu to be the opposite of the path I found myself on, a hunger so great and so painful that it percludes happiness, cooperation, or even rational thought. Hunger not as a sumptuous hedonistic gluttony but a hollowing emptiness that compels violence and desperation. More than just psychopathic slaughter and gore, it is becalmed sailors drinking seawater to quench their thirst, the urban poor mixing sawdust and plaster into their food because their wages are not enough to afford grain.

This is where we get the idea of Yeenoghu as an enemy of society, not because violence is antithical to society ( I think we've learned by now how structured violence can really be) but because society fundamentally breaks down when it can't take care of the people who provide its foundations. Contrast the Beast of Butchery with one of my other favourite villainous famine spirits: Caracalla the grim trader, who embodies scarcity as a form of profit and control in to Yeenoghu's scarcity as suffering.

Into this we can also add the idea of the hungry dead, ghouls yes but also vampires, anything cursed with an eternal existence and appetites it no longer has the ability to sate. A large number of cultures across the world share the idea that the dead cannot rest while they are starving, which is why we leave offerings of food by their graves or pour out a glass to the ones we lost along the way.

On that topic, there's also a scrap of lore involving Doresain god of ghouls, who has been depicted as an on and off servant of Yeenoghu. Since I'm already remaking the mythology, I'd have Doresain act as a sort of saint or herald for the demon lord, the wicked but still partially reasonable entity who can villain monolog before the feral and all consuming demon god shows up.

Summing it all up: Yeenoghu isn't a demon you wittingly worship, it's a demon that claims you, marks you as its mouthpiece and through you seeks to consume more of the world. It gives you just enough strength to keep on living, keep on suffering, keep on filling that hole in your belly and feed it in turn.

The greatest of these mouthpieces is Doresain, an elf of ancient times who's unearthly hungers elevated him to demigod status. Known as the knawbone king, he dwells within a dread domain of the shadowfell, and is sought out only for his ability to intercede with the maw-fiend's rampages.

Signs: Unnaturally persistent hunger pangs, excessive drool and gurgling stomach noises, the growth of extra teeth in the mouth, stomachs splitting open into mouths.

Symbols: An animal with three jaws, a three tailed flail or spiked whip. A crown of knawed bones (Doresain)

Titles: Beast of butchery, the maw fiend, the knawing god

Artist

[rootedinrevisions]

Texas Orange

SUMMARY: Heavily based on the song "Tennesse Orange" by Megan Moroney. You're in the early stages of your relationship with Glen and he takes you to a Texas football game with him.

**This was my first time writing about Glen himself and not one of his characters. I really loved the idea and the song that inspired this fic, however think I may stick to writing his characters instead of him as a person in the future. **

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

The Texas sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape as you and Glen drive through the winding roads of Austin. The truck hums steadily beneath you, the air conditioning a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside.

You glance over at Glen, dressed in a black t-shirt with the orange Texas Longhorns symbol emblazoned on the chest, and a white Longhorns baseball cap turned backward on his head. His sunglasses shield his eyes from the bright light, and with one hand on the wheel, he holds your hand gently in the other. You glance over at him, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile when he catches you looking at him.

"This is amazing," you say, taking in the sprawling hills and the way the cityscape rises in the distance. "I can't believe I've never been here before."

Glen chuckles, his voice low and smooth, the kind of sound that makes you feel instantly at ease. "I still can't believe that. Austin's pretty great. But, I mean, you grew up on the coast, right? Plenty of beauty there too."

You nod, your mind flashing back to memories of ocean breezes and sandy beaches, a world away from the vast, open skies of Texas. "Yeah, but it's different. I've never seen anything quite like this."

He grins, squeezing your hand gently. "You're gonna love it here. Plus, this is only the start. Wait till you see the stadium-it's a whole other world."

You laugh, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves bubble up inside you. "Speaking of the stadium, I've got to admit something. I've never actually been to a football game before. My family wasn't really into sports growing up."

Glen's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he quickly recovers with a teasing grin. "You've never been to a game? Well, that changes today. Texas football is like a religion around here. It's something you just have to experience.

"Hopefully I'll fit in okay," you say, half-joking. The thought of stepping into the massive stadium, surrounded by thousands of passionate fans, is both thrilling and a little daunting.

He chuckles, his voice warm with affection. "Don't worry, I'll be right there with you. We'll ease you into it. Plus, my folks are going to be so excited to meet you they're gonna forget about the game, at least for a minute."

The mention of his family makes your stomach flip. This is a big step, meeting his family, even if you've both been keeping things casual. There's a part of you that wonders if this trip is more than just a casual one for Glen.

"What are they like? Your family, I mean," you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

Glen's expression softens, a fond smile playing on his lips. "They're great. They'll love you, I promise. My mom might be a little overwhelming at first, but that's just because she cares so much. And my dad, well he's the quiet type, but once you get him talking about anything Texas-related, you won't be able to get him to stop."

You smile at the thought, feeling a bit more at ease. "They sound like a good bunch."

"They are," Glen says, his voice sincere. "And they're going to love you. How could they not?"

His words bring warmth to your chest, and you squeeze his hand in return. "I hope so."

As the two of you continue to drive further into Austin, Glen gives you a mini tour. He points out a few landmarks - his favorite taco place, the park where he used to hang out with friends, and a music venue where he once saw an incredible show. You listen, soaking in every detail, feeling a sense of connection to this place that Glen clearly loves so much.

"Here we are," Glen says as he pulls into a parking spot near the stadium. The massive structure looms ahead, a sea of burnt orange and white, alive with energy even from a distance.

You take a deep breath, a mixture of anticipation and nerves swirling inside you. "This is it, huh?"

"This is it," Glen confirms, turning to you with a smile that melts away any lingering doubts. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," you say, smiling back at him.

As you step out of Glen's truck, you notice that nearly everyone around you is decked out in burnt orange and white. Texas Longhorns hats, jerseys, and t-shirts, all show their pride. The sea of matching colors makes you acutely aware that you're the only one not wearing any team gear.

Glen steps around the truck to join you, noticing the way your eyes scan the crowd. He gives you a playful nudge with his elbow. "Feeling a little out of place?"

You laugh, shrugging slightly. "Just a bit. I think I missed the memo on the dress code."

Without missing a beat, Glen reaches up to the back of his head and pulls off the white Longhorns cap he's been wearing. He turns it around in his hands before stepping closer to you. "Here, you can wear this. Can't have you being the odd one out."

Before you can respond, he's already placing the cap on your head. His fingers brush against your hair as he adjusts the fit, making sure it sits just right. You tilt your head up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "How do I look?"

Glen takes a step back to admire his work, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You look great in Orange. Might even say you wear it better than I do."

You roll your eyes playfully, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "You might be biased."

"Maybe," he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. "But I'm also right."

As you walk towards the section of the parking lot reserved for tailgating, Glen drapes an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close. "Tell you what, we'll hit up the merch stand once we're inside. Gotta get you a t-shirt to complete the look."

"You don't have to do that," you start to protest, but Glen shakes his head.

"I want to," he insists, squeezing your shoulder lightly. "Consider it part of the full Texas football experience."

You smile up at him, feeling more at ease with every step. "Alright, but only if you help me pick it out."

"Deal," Glen says, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple before leading you into the sea of orange and white.

The aroma of sizzling barbecue fills the air as you and Glen approach the tailgating area. Rows of trucks and RVs are lined up in the parking lot, each decked out in burnt orange. Flags bearing the Texas Longhorns logo flutter in the breeze, and the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles create a festive atmosphere.

Glen leads you through the crowd with a confident stride, his hand securely holding yours. As you near a large, lively group gathered around a grill, Glen spots his family and friends.

"There they are," he says, nodding towards the group. "Ready to meet everyone?"

You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Glen gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you approach the group. His mom, Cyndy, is the first to spot the two of you, and her face lights up with a welcoming smile. She's a petite woman with a warm demeanor, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she waves you over.

"There you are!" Cyndy calls out, pulling Glen into a quick hug before turning her attention to you. "And you must be the one we've been hearing so much about. I'm Cyndy, it's so nice to finally meet you!"

You return her smile, instantly feeling at ease with her friendly nature. "It's great to meet you too. Glen's told me a lot about you."

"Oh, I'm sure he has," Cyndy says with a wink before pulling you into a hug. "Welcome, sweetheart."

Next, Glen's dad, Glen Sr., steps forward with a firm handshake and a nod. He's tall and broad-shouldered, with a quiet strength about him. "Good to have you here," he says simply, but the warmth in his tone is unmistakable.

Then, Glen's sisters Lauren and Leslie, each take their turn to greet you. Lauren gives you a friendly smile. "You're braver than I would be, meeting the whole crew at once like this. They can be a handful, but you'll be fine."

Leslie nudges Glen playfully. "You didn't warn her about us, did you?"

Glen laughs, shaking his head. "I figured I'd let you all speak for yourselves."

As you exchange pleasantries, more of Glen's friends and extended family members join in, introducing themselves and welcoming you with open arms. Someone hands you a cold drink, and before you know it, you're standing around a grill piled high with burgers, sausages, and all the fixings, soaking in the pre-game atmosphere.

The conversation quickly turns to stories about Glen's past. A few of his college buddies, each with a beer in hand, are eager to share some of their favorite memories.

"Remember that time Glen tried to impress a girl by riding a mechanical bull at that honky-tonk?" One of them starts, a grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, I remember!" Another chimes in. "He was so confident, strutted right up there like he was gonna show everyone how it's done. Lasted about five seconds before he got thrown off and landed flat on his back."

The group erupts in laughter, and even Glen can't help but chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he says shaking his head. "At least I gave it a shot."

Cyndy leans in closer to you, a glint in her eye. "That's nothing compared to the time he and his sister decided to 'borrow' my car when they were kids. Thought they'd take a little joyride around the neighborhood...until they crashed it into a mailbox."

"Oh no!" You gasp, unable to suppress a laugh.

Lauren grins, shaking her head at the memory. "We were grounded for months. Glen thought he was so slick, but he didn't realize the mailbox he hit belonged to one of Dad's friends."

"Yep," Glen Sr adds with a rare smile, "and that's how they learned not to mess with my car."

The easy banter and lighthearted stories quickly dissolve any lingering nerves you have. Glen's family and friends are down-to-earth, welcoming you into their inner circle as if you've always been a part of it. The more they share, the more you see the depth of their bond and the way they care for each other.

As you take another bite of your burger, you look over at Glen, who's been watching you with a soft smile. "You doing okay?" he asks quietly, leaning in so only you can hear.

You nod, feeling completely at ease now. "Yeah, I'm doing great. Your family's wonderful."

His smile widens as he places a hand gently on your back. "I'm glad you think so. They're a little crazy, but they're mine."

"And now I guess I'm part of them too," you say with a playful grin.

Glen's eyes light up at your words, and he leans in to press a quick, affectionate kiss to your lips. "Yeah, I guess you are."

Just then, one of Glen's friends raises his drink and shouts "Hook 'em, Horns!" The entire group responds in unison, raising their hands in the iconic "Hook 'em Horns" gesture, with pinkies and index figures extended with the thumb tucked grasping the second and third fingers.

You try to mimic the gesture, but you don't quite cooperate. Glen catches your struggle and chuckles softly. "Here, let me help," he says, gently taking your hand in his.

With his warm fingers guiding yours, Glen carefully adjusts your hand, making sure your pinky and index fingers are extended and your thumb tucks the other fingers. His touch is gentle and precise, and you can't help but feel a little flutter in your chest as he concentrates on getting it just right.

"How's that?" you ask, looking up at him with a smile.

He gives your hand a final tweak before stepping back to admire his work. "Perfect," he says, his voice soft and affectionate. "Now you're officially part of the team."

You laugh, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Guess I really am one of you now."

The group continues to laugh and share stories as the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the gathering. The pre-game atmosphere, filled with the sounds of sizzling food, clinking bottles, and cheerful banter, is everything you imagined - and more. With Glen's arm draped comfortably around your shoulders and the "Hook 'em Horns" gesture nailed down, you feel a sense of belonging that surprises you in the best possible way.

As the tailgate winds down and the anticipation for the game grows, Glen wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you through the throng of excited fans heading towards the stadium. The air is filled with the sounds of chanting, music, and the collective buzz of thousands of supporters, all eager for the big game.

"Ready for the full game day experience?" Glen asks, glancing over at you with a grin.

You nod, feeling a mixture of excitement and curiosity. "Definitely. Lead the way."

As you approach the entrance, Glen veers off towards a merchandise stand just inside the gate, keeping his promise to get you your very own Texas Longhorns shirt. The stand is awash with burnt orange and white, offering everything from t-shirts to hoodies, foam fingers, and even Longhorns-themed sunglasses.

"Okay, let's find you something," Glen says, scanning the racks of shirts. He picks out a simple, yet classic burnt orange t-shirt with the Texas Longhorns logo emblazoned across the front. Holding it up to you, he grins "How about this one?"

You take the shirt from him, feeling the soft fabric between your fingers. "It's perfect," you say, already imagining yourself fitting right in with the sea of orange in the stadium.

Glen pays for the shirt and then hands it back to you. "Go ahead and try it on. Let's see how it looks."

You pull the t-shirt over your white tank top, the bright orange contrasting perfectly with your outfit. As you smooth the fabric down, Glen steps back to admire the look.

"Hold on," he says, reaching for the white Texas Longhorns baseball cap he had been wearing earlier. With a playful grin, he gently places it back on your head, adjusting the brim so it sits just right. His fingers linger for a moment, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You look up at him, a smile playing on your lips. "How do I look?"

Glen's gaze softens as he takes you in, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You look great," he says, his voice filled with genuine affection. "I think orange might be your color."

You laugh softly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Guess I'm officially part of the team now."

"Absolutely," Glen replies, leaning in to brush a quick kiss against your forehead. "Now, let's get to our seats."

With his arm comfortably draped around your shoulders, Glen guides you through the bustling concourse and up towards the exclusive box seats he reserved for you, his family, and close friends. As you walk, you can't help but notice a few heads turning, whispers following in your wake. It's clear that Glen's presence isn't going unnoticed.

But Glen seems unfazed by the attention, focused entirely on making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. "Don't worry," he says, sensing your unease as you pass by a group of fans who seem to be debating whether or not to approach. "The suite will give us a bit of privacy. It's just us and the people we want to be with."

You give him a grateful smile, relieved at the thought of a more private space. "That sounds perfect."

When you reach the suite, a staff member opens the door, revealing a spacious, comfortable area with large windows offering an unobstructed view of the field. The room is decked out with cozy seating, a fully stocked fridge, and even a table spread with game day snacks.

Glen's family is already there, mingling and settling in, and they greet you warmly as you enter. You quickly realize that this box isn't just a place to watch the game - it's a space where you can relax, enjoy the company, and soak in the experience without any interruptions.

Glen guides you to a seat near the window, right next to him. As you take in the view of the field below, and the energy of the crowd that's starting to pile into the stadium, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling up.

"So, what do you think?" Glen asks, settling in beside you, his hand casually resting on your knee.

You turn to him, your smile reflecting the excitement you feel. "It's incredible."

Glen grins, clearly pleased. "I'm glad you're here," he says giving your knee a gentle squeeze. "Now, get ready for some real Texas football."

Suddenly, the lights dim, and the giant screen at the far end of the stadium flickers to life. The Texas Longhorns logo appears, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You glance over at Glen, who is grinning ear to ear, clearly caught up in the excitement.

"Here they come," he says, nodding towards the tunnel at the edge of the field.

The sound of drums fills the air as the Texas Longhorns marching band begins playing. The brass instruments gleam under the stadium lights and the rhythm of the drums pulses through the stands, making your heart beat a little faster.

As the band starts playing the school fight song, the crowd rises to their feet, the familiar tune echoing throughout the stadium. Glen stands up, pulling you to your feet with him. The sight is breathtaking - the sea of burnt orange, the flags waving proudly, and the booming voices of thousands of fans all joining together in the song.

Glen leans in close, his voice just above a whisper in your ear. "You've got to sing along, it's tradition."

You smile nervously, not sure what the words are, but Glen's enthusiasm is contagious. As the band reaches the chorus, Glen starts singing, his voice blending with the roar of the crowd. "Texas Fight! Texas Fight! And it's goodbye to A&M..."

You start to hum along to the words, your soft voice, almost drowned out by the thousands of others. But Glen's infection energy pulls you in. His eyes spark with excitement. "Louder!" he urges, his grin widening.

You laugh, feeling the last of your hesitation melt away as you throw yourself into the chant, clapping along with the beat and shouting the words with enthusiasm. Glen's pride is evident, and he can't hide his delight at seeing you get into the spirit of the game.

As the team bursts onto the field, the stadium erupts into a thunderous roar. The players, clad in their iconic burnt orange and white uniforms, charge out of the tunnel, the sight of them stirring a fresh wave of excitement into the crowd. The band crescendos into the final notes of the fight song, and the noise level reaches a fever pitch.

Glen wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as the team lines up on the field. "What do you think?" he asks, his voice barely audible over the noise.

You look up at him, your heart racing with the excitement of the moment. "It's amazing," you reply, your smile wide and genuine. "I can see why you love this so much."

As the players take their positions on the field, the atmosphere in the stadium becomes electric. The roar of the crowd swells, and you can feel the anticipation vibrating through the stands. You're fully immersed in the excitement, your earlier nerves replaced with growing enthusiasm as Glen points out different players and explains the significance of the game.

Just as you start to relax, the opening kickoff is moments away. You're leaning forward in your seat, eyes glued to the field when suddenly - BOOM!

The deafening sound of Smokey the Cannon firing catches you completely off guard. You jump in your seat, your heart racing as the shock of the blast reverberates through your chest.

Glen, noticing your startled reaction, can't help but chuckle. "Sorry, I should've warned you about that," he says, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. His laugh is warm and affectionate, and he pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder. "That's Smokey the Cannon. It fires off at every kickoff. Just part of the tradition."

You lean into his embrace, your initial fright quickly fading as you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. "I think I just aged a few years," you say with a laugh, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline. "I wasn't expecting that at all."

Glen's grip tightens slightly, his way of reassuring you. "It's loud, but you'll get used to it," he says, his voice gentle and comforting in your ear. "Trust me, by the end of the game, you'll be waiting for it."

You turn your head to catch his eye, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. "I'll take your word for it," you reply, your nerves settling as you take comfort in his closeness.

The game kicks off, and the action on the field immediately draws you back in. As the players clash, the crowd erupts into cheers and groans, their energy contagious. Glen keeps you close, his arm draped over your shoulders, and you find yourself getting more and more caught up in the excitement of it all.

Throughout the game, Glen is right there, guiding you through the experience. He explains the rules as plays unfold, pointing out the strategy behind each move. "See how the quarterback is scanning the field?" he says at one point. "He's looking for an open receiver, someone who can catch the ball and make a run for it."

You nod, trying to absorb the information. "It's a lot more complicated than I thought," you admit, appreciating his patience.

Glen grins, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. "That's what makes it fun," he says. "Once you start to understand the strategy, it's like watching a chess match...only with a lot more action."

As the game progresses, you find yourself cheering along with the crowd, your earlier nerves completely forgotten. Glen's explanations help you feel more connected to the game, and his excitement is infectious. Each time something exciting happens on the field - a touchdown, a particularly good tackle - he turns to you with a grin, eager to share the moment.

"Did you see that?" he asks after a particularly impressive play, his eyes alight with excitement. "That's what they call a 'Hail Mary' - a long pass to try and score a touchdown when time's running out."

You nod, caught up in the moment. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of this," you say, feeling a sense of pride as you follow the flow of the game.

Glen leans in, his voice low and full of affection. "You're doing great," he says, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad you're here with me."

You smile up at him, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. "Me too," you reply, feeling more at home in the stadium with each passing moment.

As the game continues, the two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm - Glen explaining plays, you cheering along with the crowd, and both of you enjoying the shared experience. It's a day filled with excitement, but also with moments of quiet connection, each one deepening the bond between you.

And by the time Smokey the Cannon fires off again, you barely flinch - too caught up in the thrill of the game and the warmth of Glen's presence beside you.

The final whistle blows and the stadium erupts in a sea of burnt orange and white. Texas has won, and the energy in the air is electric. Fans are cheering, hugging, and celebrating as the Longhorns players wave to the crowd before making their way off the field. You can't help but get caught up in the excitement, clapping along as the band strikes up the fight song one last time.

As the crowd begins to thin out, Glen helps you gather your things, and the two of you make your way out of the suite. The halls of the stadium are still buzzing with excitement, fans streaming toward the exits, chatting excitedly about the game. You notice a few people casting glances your way - recognition flickering in their eyes as they realize who Glen is.

You feel a flutter of nervousness in your chest as the looks become more frequent. The idea of being recognized, of suddenly being in the spotlight, is overwhelming. But before the anxiety can take hold, Glen reaches for your hand. His grip is firm, and reassuring, and he gives you a comforting smile.

"Don't worry," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I'm right here."

His words and his touch soothe you, and you take a deep breath, focusing on the warmth of his hand in yours rather than the curious glances around you. Together, you navigate through the crowd, Glen's presence beside you acting as an anchor, keeping you steady.

As you step out into the cool evening air, the noise of the stadium fades behind you, replaced by the more distant sounds of fans celebrating in the parking lot. The crowd is thinning out, and the atmosphere feels less intense, allowing you to finally relax.

Glen leads you to his truck, and as you approach it, he glances over at you, his expression softening. "So...your first Texas game," he says as he opens the passenger door for you. "What did you think? Did it live up to the hype?"

Your smile, climbing into the truck and settling into the seat. "It really did," you reply, your tone reflecting the surprise in your voice. "I didn't think I'd get so caught up in it, but I did. The energy, the crowd, the way everyone was so passionate...it was contagious."

Glen closes the door and walks around to the driver's side, sliding into the seat beside you. He doesn't start the truck right away, instead turning slightly to face you, his gaze soft and warm.

"I'm really glad you came," he says, his voice sincere. "It means a lot to me to share this with you."

You feel your heart swell at his words, and you take a moment to let them sink in. "I'm glad I came too," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. "It's not something I ever imagined myself doing, but I'm really happy I did."

Glen reaches out and takes your hand again, his fingers intertwining with yours. "You were a great sport about everything," he says, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Even when Smokey scared the life out of you."

You laugh, shaking your head at the memory. "I'll admit, that was a bit much," you say with a grin. "But honestly, the whole experience was incredible. I see now why it's such a big deal for you."

Glen's smile widens, and for a moment, the two of you simply sit there, hands clasped, sharing a quiet, meaningful silence. The excitement of the day is still buzzing in your veins, but there's also a deeper feeling - a sense of connection, of understanding, that goes beyond just the game.

"I'm really happy you're here with me," Glen says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of emotion. "This...it all means a lot more with you by my side."

His words hit you in a way you didn't expect, and you realize just how much this day, and this man, have come to mean to you. You squeeze his hand, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the game or the crowd, but everything to do with him.

"I'm happy to be here," you reply, your voice just as soft. "With you."

For a moment, the world outside the truck seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the parking lot. It's a moment of quiet reflection, of mutual appreciation, and as you sit there, you realize that this experience has brought you closer to Glen in a way you hadn't anticipated.

Glen starts the engine, but before he shifts into gear, he leans over and presses a tender kiss to your lips. It's soft, sweet, and filled with unspoken emotion, a perfect ending to a day you'll never forget.

As he pulls away, you both smile at each other, the bond between you stronger than ever. As the truck rolls out of the parking lot, leaving the stadium behind, you feel a sense of contentment, knowing that this is just the beginning of something truly special.

The next morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your bedroom. You sit on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, absently twisting the brim of Glen's baseball cap between your fingers. The events of the previous day play on a loop in your mind - Glen's infectious enthusiasm, the electrifying atmosphere of the game, and the way he held your hand, guiding you through it all. A smile tugs at your lips as you remember the look in his eyes when he told you how much it meant to him to have you there.

But now, in the quiet of your room, the excitement of the game has given way to do something deeper - an unmistakable warmth in your chest, a feeling that's both exhilarating and a little terrifying. You realize that what started as casual dating has slowly grown into something more. And for the first time, you feel the need to talk to someone about it.

You take a deep breath and scroll through your contacts, landing on your mom's number. The familiar sound of the ringtone fills the room as you hold the phone to your ear, your heart beating a little faster with each passing second. Finally, you hear her voice on the other end, warm and welcoming as always.

"Hi, sweetie! How are you?" Your mom greets you, the sound of her voice instantly soothing some of your nerves.

"Hey, Mom," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'm good. Just...thinking about a lot of things."

Your mom chuckles softly. "Well, it sounds like you've got something on your mind. What's going on?"

You pause for a moment, gathering your thoughts before you begin. "I met somebody, and...he's really great, Mom. he's got these green eyes that I could just get lost in, and he's so sweet. He opens doors for me, he makes me laugh, and he...he doesn't make me cry." Your voice softens as you say the last part, a small admission of how different this feels from anything you've experienced before.

There's a brief silence on the other end, and then your mom speaks, her voice gentle. "He sounds wonderful, honey. Tell me more about him."

A smile spreads across your face as you think about Glen. "He's from Texas, not exactly where we're from, but...when I'm with him, he feels like home. He's got me doing things I never thought I'd do, like going to a football game." You laugh, still a little surprised at how much you enjoyed the experience.

Your mom laughs too, a mix of surprise and amusement in her tone. "A football game? You? Never thought I'd see the day."

"I know, right?" you reply, shaking your head at the memory. "He even gave me his hat to wear because I didn't have any Texas gear. And, Mom...I liked it. I really liked it."

There's a pause, and you can almost hear your mom's smile through the phone. "It sounds like you're really falling for this guy."

You bite your lip, the truth of her words sinking in. "I think I am," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Mama...I like him a lot. I even learned the words to the Texas Fight Song."

Your mom's laughter rings through the phone, full of warmth and understanding. "It sounds like he's got you wrapped around his finger," she teases, but there's no judgment in her voice, only happiness for you.

"Maybe he does," you say, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought. "But...it feels right, Mom. He feels right."

Your mom's voice softens, a hint of emotion creeping in. "I'm happy for you, sweetheart. Just take things one step at a time, and follow your heart."

You nod, even though she can't see you. "Thanks, Mom. I will."

As you end the call, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. Talking to your mom has helped you put things into perspective, and you realize that you're ready to see where things go with Glen, no matter where that may lead. The thought of him brings a smile to your face, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at what the future might hold.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am i the asshole for denying a dnd character request?

Info:

I'm a dm but im pretty new to the dming side of things. Up until recently i had been a player exclusively. One of my friends (who I'll call K) mentioned wanting to get into dnd and I said I could dm. A few other of our friends also joined the campaign and I set to work helping everyone develop characters and began writing the story

Im a pretty chill person when it comes to dnd rules, I'm not exactly free for all, but not book rigid either. Im fine with homebrew or critical role content if it can be adapted to be playable and not unfair. I don't want the other players to be left behind and I don't want monsters and the other PCs to look like chumps.

K came up to me and said they wanted their character to be an angel. I was like "sick, I'll help you write up an aasimar". But she showed me the picture she wanted, and it was one of those biblical angels that's just a ring of eyes with wings everywhere. And that was going to be a solid no.

I had a few reasons. One was backstory wise, why would an angel like that be traveling with a bunch of mortals, one of which, another PC, was a tiefling? Another was practicality, how would a creature with no arms and who flies around be able to reasonably adapt to the rules around carrying weight, one vs two handed weapons, and movement? And the third was the biggie, and it was that the big baddie at the end of the of the campaign was a beholder, for folks who don't know dnd, a beholder is a giant flying eyeball monster with a giant mouth and tentacles. And that was going to be an issue because I thought that K's angel drawing looked too similar to a beholder. And since that thing is the big baddie of the whole fuggin story, it would mean both NPCs and monsters would be like "oh fuck, a beholder," and it would mess up the intermediate battles and quests I had already written.

I told K no and she replied, paraphrased, "if you wrote and made up this whole story why can't you make up a reason why my character is here?"

I just told her I couldn't because her character would look too much like a beholder and it would scare off low level monsters and npcs and she got very huffy with me.

Another of the friends who was also playing said that maybe we should let the rules slide and just let K play as her drawing. I still said no, and that I was fine with her playing an aasimar, but if she wanted to play one, she'd have to be more reasonable to the game.

K said she was fine with it but still seems pissed off at me.

Am i the asshole for denying her request to play as her angel drawing?

[oneatlatime]

Lake Laogai

This Lake had better have Appa in it. With little water wings on.

Skipping the commentary as usual.

The Previously On section suggests that a whole lot of plot threads are about to crash into each other. Strap in folks.

Lefty Sokka!

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by his sister's critique of his art skills. It's not like he had paper to practice with at the South Pole.

Sometimes I forget that Aang is 12, then he does something like attempt to rescue his pet from a nefarious city-wide conspiracy of silence with lost cat posters.

"Good tea is its own reward." That means no, he isn't paid enough.

Remember what I said in my last post about Iroh bringing too much attention to himself?

"senior executive assistant manager" someone on the writing team has worked retail I see. Nothing like meaningless promotions with no raise attached! It's right up there with employee pizza party.

I have to pause here and point something out. This whole scene with Iroh? This is an adult fantasy. I don't mean dirty, I mean this whole scene was put in specifically to appeal to the adults who got roped in to watching this kids' show by their children. A rich man walks through the door of your shitty retail job, immediately spots your natural greatness, and offers you a much better paying job with unlimited creative freedom and a better house to go with it? Find me a burnt out retail worker who hasn't conjured up this fantasy five times a shift.

And so the plots come crashing back together. This won't end badly.

"patience really pays off" I checked. He waited literally three seconds.

Shout out to Toph in the background playing catch with a ball she can't see. Casual flex of epic proportions.

Remind me never to go to Lake Laogai. Sounds like it's lousy with Ju Dees.

So the Ju Dees don't know about each other? Because she seems honestly confused. Does Ju Dee think she's the only Ju Dee? What happens if two Ju Dees run into each other in the street?

Posters are illegal but I haven't heard a peep about recarving a bunch of fields into a zoo.

This is maybe the second time Aang's blown up over Appa. Frankly he deserves more blow ups about the whole situation.

I don't think knocking down walls will help find Appa, but I applaud Toph's spirit.

They took out a whole wall and then exit by the door anyways. That's funny.

I really hate this guy, but I have to admit that he may be the first truly competent villain of the series.

'The Jasmine Dragon' also lets anyone with half a brain know that you're Fire Nation. Try the Jasmine Badgermole instead.

Zuko really can't catch a break, huh? He wasn't happy being a tea server, but at least he was resting. But every time he gets five minutes to himself, the main plot reappears to drag him back into the action, whether he wants to or not. Although he hasn't figured out that he doesn't want to be dragged back yet.

Every line of dialogue in this scene is a good point. Zuko's right, Iroh's right. The Zuko's right again, then Iroh's right again.

YES YES YES GET HIS ASS

That was satisfying!

I'm not understanding why Sokka is the voice of reason here. Is he incapable of holding a grudge? He's the one that had all the animosity with Jet to begin with. Shouldn't it be Aang who wants to hear him out?

Toph is a living lie detector now? I can't think of an example off the top of my head, but I'm sure that could have come in handy previously. Any other incredibly useful skills we should know about?

Jet is oddly defensive for someone who claims to know he did wrong.

Ever get so excited that your spine malfunctions?

Sokka just has a metre long map in his pocket. Good friend to have in a pinch.

Avatar first! Katara is rude to an old person!

I'm going to have fun with Toph's new ability.

Toph, you have never been more right. It is the worst city ever. You are really shining this episode.

I know this is a serious scene, but I need to point out that Jet's guyliner is on point.

This shot is jarringly out of place. I think it's because it both black and white, and live action. Those have to be real clouds.

So the Blue Spirit can talk after all. Careful, your Zuko is showing.

Wow Zuko is good at sewing. And fast too.

Sokka is having far too much fun with this whole 'prompt Jet's memory' thing. Maybe he does have a bit of a grudge after all.

Katara can reverse brainwashing now too? Everyone's levelling up this episode.

This scene with the planks is a very cool and disorienting visual.

Didn't have 'the gaang breaks into a brainwashing facility' on my ATLA bingo card.

Pretty.

OMIGOD IT'S AP- did Zuko just break the fourth wall?

Everyone always forgets to look up.

So this fight is going to be Toph v. all of the Dai Li while everyone else tries not to get in Toph's way.

That's a boat.

Toph could probably take all these guys out faster if she wasn't having to constantly break off to save everyone else from them.

The Dai Li prancing up walls is a really cool visual. It's very Ty Lee of them.

I love watching her work.

Why don't you let Long Feng escape? He's no longer threatening you, and you're down there to rescue Appa. Just let him go.

The security on Lake Laogai is a joke.

Big words from someone who also had no plan whatsoever at the North Pole.

Zuko knows that Iroh's right. He knows, and that's important. I don't think Iroh is saying anything that Zuko hasn't thought and then hurriedly pretended to have never thought about before. It's why he says 'stop it' rather than being completely confused as to what Iroh is referring to.

Poor Appa's like 'can you have a crisis of self after you free me please?'

'You've chosen your own demise." No. You chose it for him. That's some top tier deflection/victim blaming right there.

Longshot can talk!

That's one hell of a set up and pay off re: Toph's lie detecting abilities.

Poor Jet. A double tragedy: to be likeable only when you're brainwashed, and to dedicate your life to wiping out the Fire Nation yet being killed by the Earth Kingdom.

Hi Appa. It's about time buddy.

Shockingly in character for Appa's first actions to be to single handedly save the Gaang from a threat.

You skip that bastard like a stone.

Everyone go and listen to the sound Appa makes when he spits out Long Feng's shoe. It's delightful.

I am framing this.

And this too.

I can tell there's some shmymbolism here, but it's gone right over my head.

Final Thoughts

Appa is back. The Gaang has Appa back. I have Appa back. Ok. I can relax now. With any luck, this means we can leave Ba Sing Se.

This episode felt like City of Walls and Secrets, Part 2. I think it was a good decision to have a couple of episodes between the two, but I think there would be some tonal whiplash if you binged this section of season 2. Which wouldn't have been a problem for a show designed to air once a week, so it's a moot point.

So Zuko freed Appa from his chains, and presumably pointed him in the direction of a door or something. Or maybe not; Appa has a ridiculously hard head, he could have busted his way out. Either way, Zuko broke the chains. Thanks Zuko!

In season 1, Zuko finds the Avatar the world had lost. In season 2, Zuko finds the Sky Bison the Avatar had lost. So in season 3, Zuko will find something Appa has lost. I wonder what that will be?

Jet being killed by the Earth Kingdom is so deliciously ironic, and tragic, yet very in character for the Earth Kingdom's approach to this war. It's also literally this:

Smellerbee and Longshot have really gotten the short end of the stick over and over this season. They were the only ones to decide to stick with Jet. Presumably they were the only ones who believed that he had had a legitimate change of heart. And they were kind of wrong. They get to Ba Sing Se only for Jet to immediately backslide way past even where he was at his worst in Season 1. He completely discounts and dismisses their legitimate concerns for his methods and his overall health. Then Jet gets arrested and disappears for two (?) weeks. So what do they do now? Get jobs? Steal so they don't starve? Then suddenly Jet's back but he doesn't even remember them. Then suddenly Jet's dead. The whole point of coming to Ba Sing Se just died, in a way that shows very clearly that their desire to help with the war is not welcome at all in the city. So what now? Do they leave and try to fight in the war from outside the walls? Do they settle down and try to forget about the war? Things did spiral completely out of Jet's control once the Dai Li got involved, but you have to admit that he's left his only remaining friends up a creek.

Sokka had some good jokes but was oddly ok with this episode's events. Toph had some great lines and got to shine with a new skill that any writer with half a brain will bring back in future episodes. She felt like the audience substitute this episode, which is usually Sokka's role. Toph was episode MVP for sure. Poor Aang took a bit of a back seat this episode. Zuko finally hit the crisis point, and may well have made his first indisputably correct decision of the series. But, as previous episodes have gone out of their way to show me that Zuko being good always goes badly for Zuko, I'm sure freeing Appa will somehow come back to bite him.

Iroh's question of "who are you? And what do you want?" was Zuko's entire character arc this season. He took a shot at answering the "who are you?" portion in Zuko Alone, and sort of halfway got there before messing up at the end of the episode. As for the "what do you want?" Zuko will tell you (often and repeatedly) that he wants his honour back. But I think he just wants to go home. The thing is, I strongly suspect that the home Zuko wants to return to hasn't existed since his mother left, if it ever existed at all. Which means that while "who are you?" has an answer Zuko can work towards, "what do you want?" has an answer that is kind of impossible. So Zuko is going to have to learn to want something new.

RIP Jet. Your life was fucked to Hell long before you were old enough to try and salvage it. You'll probably be missed by more people than you strictly deserve. War sucks, amirite?

[radioisntdead]

Can I ask for (platonic) Lute & Emily, with a generally chaotic s/o? They’ll do harmless little pranks, mess around with them (staring at Lutes forehead while she’s talking just to make her paranoid and annoyed), and being sassy to anyone

Good evening my dear! I HAVE YET TO WRITE FOR EMILY SO I'M EXCITED!

Warnings!

None other than Reader being a little menace, and a decapitated head gets thrown, oh also this is in headcanon format!

I imagine it's way too early for your shenanigans, Lute's trying to make herself a cup of coffee and you're sitting on the counter swinging your legs and staring at her forehead, saying nothing just staring like this

She just glancing at you from the side of her eye, like does she have something? Did she have leftover blood on her?

She looks away for one minute to put cream or something into her coffee and when she looks back, WHAM you're there just staring into her soul.

I'm imagining you're a fellow exorcist, So extermination day you just have some poor sinners decapitated head and you just yell "Hey Lulu! Catch!" And Lute gets a head thrown at her,

I imagine you and Adam get along well, like partners in annoying Lute, and team up with pranking Lute, Adam yells that the bathroom has water coming out of it and there's just a bunch of water filled cups coming out of the restrooms.

You and Adam legitimately tried to convince her that the each of you were the other person, you wearing Adams oversized robes and Adam's wearing an extra exorcist uniform because you don't trust him to not accidentally get something like rib sauce on yours and it's just a whole bit.

"[Name] why are you wearing Adam's robes?? And Adam why are you in our uniform??"

"No idea what you're talking about Lulu! I'm totally Adam the first man the great dickmaster sixtynine, tits, dicks, ribs!"

"And I'm obviously [name] the super badass, hatchet welding menace!"

Lute needs a drink after that.

Lute's scolding your fellow exorcists and you're just two feet behind her mimicking her movements and mannerisms, your fellow exorcists struggling not to laugh and Lute looks back at you only to see you stone faced and still, then when she goes back to scolding them your back mocking her.

After she loses her arm you get her a couple of these thingys

Yeah she's using that middle one to punch you, she's sticking a knife or something on it and using it.

Adam would've thought it was hilarious.

Okay so I'm imagining you're heaven's version of Pinkie pie! [I'm watching a Pinkie pie comp on YouTube while writing]

You go to Emily with ideas on how to welcome newbies, how to make the citizens happy,

She has an idea you ADORE? You throw up confetti in the air, it was in your pockets.

She's feeling down? You're there with balloons, one of those cakes that you can set on fire and whatever else you think can make her smile.

You're very toon-like, like running in place before falling to the ground, hopping around in place of walking! Maybe you're a bunny themed winner! Or something that hops!

Emily enjoys your presence! You both like hopping around heaven helping out and cheering up the folks around! I imagine heaven has welcome parties for the new folks weekly so you, the resident party planner get a good feel for what the newbies like and implement it into the parties!

Prank wise you THRIVE on whoopee cushions, you know those plastic babies? You break into wherever Emily and Sera reside and you hide them EVERYWHERE.

Same with rubber duckies.

For some reason though Sera gets a little antsy when she sees them, so you stick with the plastic babies!

You get VERY excited VERY EASILY and it just spreads over to Emily, you're a bundle of contagious sunshine, I imagine the two of you have like the coziest sleepovers ever, like a bunch of snacks, blankets, cuddles etc etc.

Good evening folks! I hope you enjoyed this, I'm sleepy and so I'm gonna schedule this and pass out, as always thank you for tuning in have a wonderful evening folks!

also we have a discord if you'd like to join!

[nikoruistyping]

Our Love Language || Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader​

Summary: It’s your first time spending Valentines day with your boyfriend, Spencer and just when you thought all was lost he surprises you in more way than one...

TW:  Small bit of Fluff, Lots of Smut, Adult Language/Swearing, Dirty Talk, Kissing/Making Out, Fingering (Kinda), Vanilla Vaginal/Office/Desk Sex, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Praise Kink, Nudity, Playful Banter/Jokes, Established Relationship, Aftercare, Mention of Valentines Day, Gushy “I love you’s” 

Word Count: 4,805

A/N: HAPPY BELATED VALENTINES DAY FOLKS! I hope you enjoy and this little one shot is especially dedicated to my bestie who is obsessed with our boy Spencer Reid so I hope you enjoy babes and that everyone else does as well! Also this took me almost 3 days to write and proof and Im sure there is a bunch of mistakes still so I will go in and fix later since work and personal life has been crazy recently.

Physical touch, Quality time, Receiving gifts, Acts of service, Words of affirmation

It was the one day of the year you actually hated with a passion because the thought of it made your blood boil. Another holiday for people to make money off of and take advantage of all the loving couples who wanted to do many something a little extra special for their significant other. It was annoying having to see so many happy couples going around doing all the stuff you wanted to do but at the end of the day, you would go retreat to your fuzzy blanket and turn on Netflix with a bowl of ice cream in hand. Well at least that's how you used to spend Valentine's day but this year would be different from the rest because it was your first time actually being able to celebrate not alone but with your boyfriend Spencer.

You had an extra pep in your step the whole day and as you got off the subway from a long day at work you were looking forward to whatever surprise or possibly more than one surprise he would have for you waiting at home. It was eating you alive trying to guess or more so make up little scenarios in your mind about how just exactly what would the night entail. Would he go the more romantic route? Dozens of roses and a home-cooked meal? Would he get down and dirty from the get-go? Doing tons of explicit things to you the minute you stepped into the doorway? Just the sheer thought of it made you bite your lip, your steps getting faster in anticipation.

Before you could even pull your keys out of your pocket you get a phone call from Spencer and you quickly smile at the picture you had set as his contact photo, clearly something so silly and embarrassing but it reminded you of how much of a goofball he could be sometimes. You pick up raising the phone to your ear to listen to his voice.

"Hey babe,"

"Hey Y/N, so I have some bad news..." His voice seemed to echo so loudly into the phone your heart seemed to drop.

"Bad news...what the hell do you mean?" Your brow was furrowed in confusion as you had stopped in your tracks just minutes before you could enter into your apartment building.

"I-I don't think I'm going to make it home on time," You could hear the shakiness in his voice and that he was nervous.

"You have got to be kidding me! Spencer, you know how important today is for me. It's our first time as a couple celebrating Valentine's day, are you sure there isn't anything you can do?" Your Valentine's day plans were starting to disappear before your eyes and you hated how much importance this stupid holiday had on you but you at least wanted to enjoy it once while being in a serious relationship with someone you truly loved. You tried your best to seem tame over the phone because at the end of the day, it wasn't exactly his fault.

"Don't you think I know that Y/N?! Trust me I want to be with you too right now but this case is really beating up the whole team and there are piles of paperwork to do." He deeply sighed into the phone out of exhaustion, you hated seeing him so overworked like this and you know he hasn't been sleeping well recently.

"Fine how about this...have you eaten at all today?" You ask into the phone raising an eyebrow, you were sure Spencer could already imagine the look on your face.

"Does two cups of coffee count?" He asks with a small chuckle.

"Well, that tells me all that I need to know. It's decided I'm coming over to the BAU and I'm bringing dinner for us. If you can't come to me I'll just come to you." You quickly decided after sacrificing all the perfect little plans you were imagining in your head and you started to accept the reality that you would be spending your most romantic night ever in the dim lights of the FBI's office, how exciting.

"Y/N are you sure?! You really don't have to and plus do you really want to be here bored out of your mind watching me do paperwork?"

"I've already decided and as long as I'm spending time with you that's what I really care about." You say with a small smile on your face and turn yourself around to start walking in the other direction.

"You're right, I'll see ya soon then yeah?" He asked with a grin across his face on the other side of the phone.

"I'll let you know when I get there. See you soon my love." You quickly hung up the phone blushing to yourself before he could comment on the new pet name you called him. For some reason, it felt natural to say, what other day is better fitting than today right?

1 Hour later...

Take-out bags in hand you made your way over to the front doors of the BAU office. The office from the outside seemed darker than usual and there weren't many cars in the parking lot so something was definitely off. You reluctantly swiped your visitor's badge at the front door, pushing the glass door open with your hip to hold it as you seemed to juggle the bags of food around from one hand to the next. When you turned around to look at the front desk there was a candlelit walkway leading you in exactly the direction you were supposed to follow. Immediately a smile came about your face and you eagerly followed the pathway made for you, rose petals decorated the floor leading you right to were you needed to be.

"Spencer?!" You questioned calling out to him hoping he would respond back. The darkness seemed to fill the air and you couldn't see anything in front of you other than a few office desks being dimly lit by candlelight. You cautiously took a few steps forward, footsteps echoing into space.

To no avail, you didn't get any response back so you tried your best to navigate where you knew his desk was. You could already tell it must have been his because it was the one that had fairy lights surrounding it, more rose petals decorating the small space, and a little folded-up notecard addressed to you.

You gently put down the bags of take-out food and picked up the notecard while reading it to yourself.

Y/N, I know you're probably a bit upset at me that I lied to you so you could come here. I wanted to celebrate this special day in the one place where it all started, here in the BAU office. I hope that this doesn't come off as lame or corny, it's my way of showing you how much you mean to me. Happy Valentines Day S.R You couldn't help but have the biggest grin on your face, you couldn't believe that he really went through all this trouble to make everything look so pretty for you. You really were the luckiest girl in the world at that moment.

Before you could even say another word, you felt a familiar presence standing right behind you, and hands quickly covering your vision so you couldn't see.

"Spencer is that you?" You knew it was him but hey no harm in asking.

"Hmm... the name doesn't ring a bell. Can you describe what he looks like?" His breath was hot as his lips were close to your ear.

"Oh I see-" You quickly caught on to the drift of his little game so you decided to play along.

"Well let me think and see if I can remember," You paused trying to build up the suspense.

"He has these handsome brown hazelnut-colored eyes, he's about 6'1, his hair is light brown extra fluffy sometimes curly and his lips are very and I mean very kissable. Is that a good enough description?" You answer back smirking to yourself that you were sure it made him smile hearing you say that last bit of info.

"I might have seen him around, looks like he happens to be a criminal though so I'd be careful if I were you." He almost broke his serious tone of voice with a small but audible chuckle.

"A criminal, what is he guilty of?" You ask pretending to be shocked with a fake gasp escaping your lips knowing exactly where this little joke is going but you decided to indulge him since you found it cute and endearing.

"Looks like he stole someone's heart," He states as you decide to turn around, his hands lifting up to uncover your eyes so you could finally look at him. All the feelings from when you first met flooded back, the all too familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach and cheeks flushed pink while your eyes made contact with his.

"He definitely stole mine for sure." You declare quickly pulling him closer to you, your hands immediately finding their home on the back of his neck where your fingers played with small loose strands of hair.

You smiled and leaned forward, kissing his lips softly, after such a long stressful day his lips felt like home. You let yourself become so relaxed that without even realizing you started to draw him closer, a queue for Spencer to put his hands on your waist. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss him this passionately and you pressed into it, your fingers curling in his hair and lightly tugging. Your head turned to the side, your tongue sliding against his as the kiss became more intense. You let a quiet moan slip out and before you could get too carried away you pulled your lips away. Your hands reached back to his face and soothingly stroked the patchy stubble on his cheeks.

"You know you're a pretty good actor, I would have never guessed." You commented with a small giggle he just smiled right back at you.

"Let's just say it was a little white lie, it's an exception. Plus it was so worth it to see you like this right in front of me." He leaned in closer nuzzling his nose against yours as you just enjoyed the faint smell of his cologne.

"I have to say I'm impressed you were able to do all of this and with Hotch's permission?! You must have had to beg." You said with a small snicker.

"Well, what can I say, some people are worth going through a little bit of hell," He says with a smile as one of his hands goes up to cup your cheek, his hand a bit shaky and you could tell he seemed a bit nervous despite the very confidant façade he was putting on for you.

"Is everything ok Spence? You're shaking," You ask concerned as you put your hand on top of his.

"I-I-um well ok- there is something important I wanted to tell you and I thought it's finally the right time to do so," He took a deep breath and you could even hear how hard he swallowed due to the deafening silence around you two.

"Y/N...I love you-" The minute he uttered those three words you couldn't help but giggle at his confession. He furrowed his brows in confusion almost a bit offended at your reaction.

"What's so funny?! You know I’m trying to confess my undying love for you and this is the thanks I get-" He was ready to protest.

"Spencer I'm not laughing at your confession. I'm laughing at the fact that you got all nervous just to tell me that? I already know that you love me but it does feel nice to hear it out loud." You say nonchalantly and you could have sworn his jaw dropped at your words.

"How did you know? I mean this makes no sense at all I made sure to keep it a secret-" He was seriously in awe at how you could have figured out something so simple it even made him scratch his head.

"Spencer it's very simple to explain, this is our love language," Your hands slid down to hold both of his and intertwine your fingers with his as you pause a moment to savor every bit of how he was so focused on listening to you.

"I'm sure you have already heard of the five types of love languages. All the things we do for each other every day are all acts of love and even though we might not say it out loud in words actions speak louder," Your fingers traced small patterns on the back of his hand as he gave you a small smile.

"Every time you tell me how beautiful I am, when you clean the whole house for me, when we cuddle watching movies together, when you come home with my favorite dessert because you know I've had a bad day and cheesecake is the only way to cure my sadness and when you hold my hand or kiss me, those are all things that reassure me that you love me. You don't have to be some big-shot FBI Behavior Analyst to see we are in love Spencer."

"Wow...you literally just blew my mind-" He utters under his breath impressed by you but mostly surprised how you really do love him and that everything he does for you and you for him, that the little things don't go unnoticed.

"I don't want to toot my own horn but I tend to do that." You flash him a little smirk.

"Then how about you show me other ways you can blow my mind some more, hmm?" Spencer hummed as he leaned in closer to whisper into your ear, his fingers reaching to push a strand of hair behind it. The look in his eyes shifted from a soft brown to now a deep ocean of brown that was filled with lust.

"I see how it is, you want to jump right to dessert?" You question in a playful tone as your hands pressed themselves against his chest, playing with the ends of his tie between your fingers.

"You know I have a sweet tooth and I want to put one of those love languages to use," He says as his hands travel to touch the sides of your neck, grazing against your skin and sliding their way down to your waist slowly twisting your hips to his will while taking a few steps forward until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

"And which love language would that be exactly Spence?" Your fingers entangled in his tie and pulled him closer while you jumped up to sit on top of his desk.

"I think you already know which one I'm talking about." He took the opportunity to nudge himself into the open space you had made by parting your legs so he could fit and be even closer.

"Then why don't you just show me already, hmm?" You hummed back as if challenging him to take action and he sure didn't waste any time.

Before you knew it Spencer was crashing his lips into yours. His kiss is a bit more aggressive than normal, the force of it tilting your body to bend back. You feel your legs go weak but his arm quickly flexes to catch you from falling completely back onto the desk. His lips coax yours open with little effort as you're hardly putting up any resistance at this point. The flavor of bitter coffee is rich on his tongue as it swipes against yours. His teeth catch your lips in bites, groans, and moans caught in one another's mouth. You could feel his hair tickling your forehead and cheeks while you adjust the tilt of your head changing the angle of the kiss to be even deeper.

A few seconds more and you both pull away from one another's lips, gasping for air. Your lips feel swollen, breathing rapid, face tinted pink. You're pleased to find Spencer was left in equally the same state, taking deep breaths, lips slick and tinted with your favorite shade of lipstick.

You decided to heat things up even more by taking action and wrapping his tie around your small nimble fingers, yanking him forward. His eyes widen in surprise briefly as his smirk falls from his face just as your lips crash into his. This time you work your tongue into his mouth. Your kisses prove to be more teasing and playful than before.

Spencer responds by wrapping his arms around you. Your free hand travels down his body, appreciating and pressing against the taut muscles and harsh lines beneath his button-down shirt. He pulls away for a moment to show attention to your neck which was in dire need of being marked by his lips and teeth. You were ashamed to admit how much you loved when he left his little mark on you, showing to everyone you were his and only his. You tilted your head back enjoying the way he softly bit into your skin and would lick over the small bruises he created. He groans into the crook of your neck as your hands travel down his body, his hips pressing into you and you could already feel his growing erection through his slacks, brushing your inner thigh through the material of your skirt which you had already taken the liberty of hiking up.

His hands coursed over your body, running along your back, grasping your shoulders, weaving into your hair, gripping your hips and tilting them towards him, his body causing yours to twist and turn in ways that only his touch could do to you. You feel a rush of adrenaline run through your veins and for some reason even though sex with Spencer was always an exhilarating experience for some reason becoming all undone on top of his desk seemed so scandalous. Dare you say it might have even been a forbidden fantasy of yours with him.

Your fingers rake through his curls cradling his head close to your neck as he slowly travels downwards, his hands pushing the lacey fabric of your blouse to the side giving him more access to your neck and collarbone. His fingers fumbled with the buttons until he lost his patience and ripped it entirely off your body until you were left in only your bra. A loud gasp left your lips at his mere strength.

"What? I hate buttons." He quickly comments pausing the assault he is currently doing to your neck.

"T-That was my favorite blouse, Spencer." You try to say in defense but who are you kidding you didn't give a damn you wanted him to keep on kissing down your body till he reached the one place you needed him most.

"I'll just buy you a new one." His voice was already raspy while continuing to place kisses on your skin, one by one the more he seemed to travel and you leaned back giving him more access.

"You're lucky that I love you enough not to care too much-" Your sentence interrupted when his fingers quickly unzipped your skirt and he flung it behind him. His lips made their way downwards kissing your thigh and down your leg, his hands delicately lifted your leg up into the air, taking off your high heels and letting them drop with a loud clack onto the floor.

He runs fingers caressing your skin as he fluttered peppered kisses back up to your inner thigh. He kneeled down on his knees to be face to face with your heat. His hands crept their way to the edges of your panties and slowly pulled them down your legs, painfully slow might you add. It made you even hotter seeing him like this, worshiping you like a goddess.

"S-Spence I really need you-" A loud moan escaped your lips when he finally touched you, he knew all the spots that drove you crazy.

"Someone sure is eager, huh?" He quipped right back while looking up at you through hooded eyelids, loving the undone expression on your face and he wasn't even working his magic yet.

"Spencer, please." You begged through heavy breaths.

He started off with long laps of his tongue, fully tasting you, all of you. He'd break away every so often showing love to your inner thighs with peppered kisses. He'd build up your pleasure and pull away before you could be fully pushed over the edge. His skillful tongue circled your clit as your moans became high-pitched. You squeezed your eyes closed and rutted your hips up against his tongue hungry for more. Your hands found his curly brown locks, guiding him to continue pleasuring you and he groaned as you pulled at the roots.

You let a slew of curse words mixed with the way you kept saying his name over and over again fly from your mouth. He liked the sounds that came from you so he thrusted his tongue inside of you.

“Have I ever told you…” another broad lick, this one faster than the last, “… that I love the way you taste?” You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat hearing the way those words come from his lips.

You’re incapable of forming words let alone a whole sentence, your body strained from the rise and fall of almost coming undone. You bite your lip and give what you hope is a nod, knowing he’s watching you from down below. He lets out a moan as he sucks on your clit and your head falls back while tugging on his hair, your legs resting on top of his shoulders as you clutch him closer locking him in that position.

"I'm so close-" You barely were able to get out as he just relentlessly continued to pleasure you with his tongue.

You came, crying out his name, you were pretty sure your moans and screams were echoing all across the office, thank god nobody was there to see or else you would have been embarrassed beyond belief. He kept licking stripes up and down your slit, lapping up your cum as your legs squeezed around his shoulders. He pulled away for a moment to take a breath, cleaning the glistening liquid from his lips with the back of his hand.

"You definitely blew more than just my mind right now." You struggled to say between heavy labored breaths while you watched Spencer get up off his knees and hastily pulling at the knot in his tie to yank it off while he somehow patiently unbuttoned his own shirt, shimming it off his shoulders.

"You better get ready to have it be blown again." His fingers quickly went to his belt buckle and undoing it just enough for his erection to pop out.

He aligned his hips with yours as you just watched him slowly bring himself closer. His cock laid flat up against the small bit of lower abs that Spencer had been working on building up, he bit his lip seeing you so unraveled and needy for him. His lips found their way back to yours, his tongue pressing up against yours making sure you could taste remnants of yourself on his lips. The way he kissed you was passionate yet rough it was like nothing you had ever experienced, maybe it was the fact that it was Valentine's day who knows but Spencer had dialed up his tactics and you weren't complaining either.  Your hands had found a place to rest on his shoulders, giving you the right position to keep him close. He pressed just a bit harder into kissing you, his teeth grazing your lower lip catching it and biting it in response as he started to get desperate.

"Fuck Spencer, I need you...please..." You said practically begging at this point as you craved to have his cock inside you.

"Shit...I love you so much Y/N." He declared almost with a smug look on his face knowing exactly what he was going to do next. Your legs were already feeling like jelly but you had found enough strength to pull his hips closer.

"Then show me how much," You whispered into the close space between your bodies.

Without warning his cock filled you completely in one stroke, the head brushing against your wet slit as it entered you. You squeezed your eyes shut as his length stretched your walls. He drew his hips back and then thrust back into you. Gasps and whines fell from your lips as he fucked you. You drew arbitrary patterns on his biceps with the pads of your fingers. Your toes curled as he slammed into you over and over again. His hands gripped the desk underneath you as he struggled to steady himself with each and every thrust the faster he went in and out of you. His nose nuzzled into your neck as he struggled to hold back his groans of pleasure.

For a moment his thrusts slowed but went deeper into you as you were being fucking into oblivion on top of his desk. His hands went from having a grip on your hips trailing slowly up to holding your hand, entwining your fingers with his as he took his sweet time bringing you to your climax at a slower pace. Everything felt like it was in slow-mo as his cock stroked along your g-spot, coaxing your orgasm to come faster. You could feel your core coiling up and about to burst. You squeezed his hand even harder while your moans filled the air and his head buried into your neck littering your neck once again with lovebites dark enough to leave marks the next morning.

"Cum for me...Y/N..." He had whispered into your ear, it flushing red with each and every word he had said.

You had cursed his name under your breath as your whole core had tensed up for just a moment while you came. His hips were still thrusting into yours as you rode out your high and you could feel him release inside of you, your fingers relaxed against his as you released his hand from yours. Both of your breaths were heavy and panting. His head leaned against your shoulder while your back was arched against the desk holding the both of you up. Your legs had tightened around his waist keeping him close to you while your bodies seemed to entangle with each other, his arms quickly embracing you.

Your hands went to cradle his head close to your chest as you played with his curly locks loving how soft his hair was.

"I love you, Spencer, so so much." That was all you had the strength to say while your breathing started to even out.

"Me too-" His voice cracked still trying to catch his breath.

"The best Valentine's day I could ever ask for." Your comment seemed to echo followed by an exhausted chuckle.

"I'm really glad you enjoyed it but you know I'm not done with you yet." He lifted his head to finally look you in the eyes as he disconnected your bodies letting you have a minute to fix yourself as he picked up the discarded clothing on the floor.

Your eyes still wandered while observing him get dressed as you swung your legs back and forth sitting on his desk, patiently waiting but also coming up with how you could keep the energy of tonight going for as long as possible.

"How about we eat some food first since by now I'm sure it's cold and then I can show you some more ways I can blow your mind...physically that is." You raised your eyebrows at him and he snickered to himself slowly walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

"Sounds like a plan my love." He quickly kissed your lips with a grin on his face.

For the rest of the night, you two sat at his desk enjoying each other's company while you chow down on your favorite foods. Spencer went on through explaining how he really set up this whole elaborate plan to surprise you and you smiled along knowing that you were going to keep falling more and more in love with the man right in front of you. As he rambled on and on his voice started to fade into the background as you started to reflect that if every Valentine's day was going to be like this you wouldn't have it any other way and you could proudly say that your first Valentine's day was a success. You realized that didn't need a day dedicated to show how much you loved Spencer because in reality you had been doing so every day and you hoped to keep doing so for many more years to come.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

orchid

a/n: thought about splitting this one up into multiple parts, but no, you're just getting one big fic. yet again, just a daydream I had that I scribbled down, just vibes, nothing fancy. also the tiny apartment she lives in, that's just where I lived a year ago. like a ghost in the attic (also also also, I almost exclusively worked on this in the middle of the night, so if it’s not up to par with the rest of my works, I do sincerely apologise)

update: i will not write a part 2 for this story so please stop asking me! you are giving me a stomach ache 

summary: “Alright, so even though I’m not, why is it that it would be such a bad thing if I theoretically had a thing for him?”

warnings: Sirius Black x reader, modern!au, college!au, starving artist!reader, posh boy Sirius, very light enemies to lovers energy, probably extremely inaccurate country club, reader works at the country club, playing 20 questions, kissing, sexual comments and references but no actual smut in this one, alcohol consumption, a little bit of light B & E as a cute date, small tolkien reference, open ending (kinda)

word count: 6023

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“All right, listen up folks,” bellowed the short snappy figure of your boss, “it’s gonna get a lot busier starting today since a lot of the member's kids are coming home on break from boarding school and university and whatnot, so that means not only will there be more people to keep happy but also a lot of stressed-out parents who await the luxury that they are paying for. I expect you all to be on you’re A-game, is that clear?” 

“Yes, Mr Barrett,” echoed throughout the room like a choir.

“Good. Now get back to work everyone!” 

Just as the herd started to thin, Mr Barrett waved you over before you had a chance to slip out, “Y/l/n!”

Watching your work friends duck out before he could call upon them as well, you gave in to the newly formed reflex and said, “yes sir?”

Not lifting his eyes as you stepped closer, he kept them glued to the clipboard in his hand and ordered, “go restock all the bars.”

“Um, why? Didn’t Tim just do it last Monday?” 

“He did,” Mr Barrett finally glance up at you and explained sternly, clearly already being over this conversation, “and now I’m telling you to go do it again. Look, these folks' kids are coming home. So, trust me when I tell you that it needs to be fully stocked.” 

“Alright,” you exhaled and scurried out at the irked wave of his hand. 

You hadn’t been working here at the Millington club for that long, but even when you consider the fact that you had to mosey up to a bunch of insufferable rich folk, the paycheck was still a lot better than any other place you’d ever worked at, consequently making it tolerable.

Now balancing a heavy cardboard box jam-packed with various clanking liquor bottles, you made your way through the glamorous halls of the club, first making your way down towards the east side lounge. Glancing down at the clinking flasks, you couldn’t even begin to calculate how many months of rent you would have to give for even just one of these lavish drinks. 

As you entered the posh sitting room and made your way over towards the bar, a collection of rowdy voices caught your ear.

“No way, I don’t believe it.” 

“No, I’m telling you, mate,” you sat the box down on the marble countertop and glanced over to spot the young raven-haired man answering his friends, “it’s true, right there in the library.”

“What genre was it in?” one of the two young men asked. They were all three spread out on a few small queen Anne couches, clustered in the corner, as if they owned the whole establishment, “biography? That corner’s pretty private…”

“Um, I was a little too preoccupied to notice,” the cocky boy scoffed, “you know, with my head being all the way under her skirt and all.”

Kicking his feet up onto the mahogany coffee table in the middle, the bespeckled one in the group chuckled, “only you mister I lost my virginity in a threesome could just casually have that happen to him on a Tuesday afternoon.”

“Who was it with anyway?” the other one asked. 

Furrowing his brows, the man in the centre of the story genuinely didn’t seem to remember, “I think her name was Emma? Something like that.”

“Didn't your mother tell you it’s creepy to stare?” you flinched at the sudden and sneaky arrival of your co-worker’s familiar voice, uttering directly into your ear.

“Jesus fuck, Lucy! Don’t scare a girl like that! I could have dropped one of these,” you held up the expensive bottles in hand, then swiftly went back to putting them away. 

“Please don’t tell me you have a thing for him,” she ignored your annoyance, crossing her arms. 

“What?” was she referring to the brash handsome man you couldn’t rip your eyes away from just a second ago? “No! I don’t even know who he is.”

“Wait, you don’t know who that is? 

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Nope.”

“That’s Sirius Black,” she told you as if the name alone was common knowledge, but then continued as the lightbulb over your head clearly didn’t turn on, “Orion Black’s oldest son?” still nothing, she tried one last time, “as in the Black automobile company? That super old posh one?”

“…the one that the royal family drives around in?”

“Ding, ding, ding!” she threw up her arms and continued to look at you as if you were an idiot. 

“Alright, so even though I’m not, why is it that it would be such a bad thing if I theoretically had a thing for him?”

“Because that man right there, gorgeous as he might be, is the biggest playboy on the planet. He doesn’t even know what the definition of a relationship is, let alone love. Y/n, I know you. You, my wonderful friend, is a relationship type of girl, not a casual sleep-around like it’s nothing type of girl. So, trust me when I say, don’t go there.”

“I wasn’t gonna!” you said defensively as she finally turned around and left you to your work. 

Bending down to open up a small cabinet, you kneeled on the polished hardwood floor and scurried to finish your work of restocking the bar.  

“Hey love,” you heard after only a minute had passed. Glancing up, you saw the very same man you had been so fixated upon earlier, casually leaning his forearm against the counter. He looked like he could have just stepped out of a ralph lauren ad with how impeccable his clothes were. 

Shooting up, nearly bumping your head on the way, you felt your heartbeat pick up as his dark eyes bored into you, “hi! Can I help you with anything?”

“Me and my mates over there were just about to go do something a little more fun than what this snooze fest has to offer,” he gesticulated, then added rather smoothly, “you look like you could use some fun, you should join us.”

“Sir, I can’t just leave,” you cocked your head, “I’m in the middle of my shift.”

“So, when do you get off?” he asked, but then as you simply averted your gaze, scrambling for a polite way to untangle yourself from this mess, he pushed, “oh, come on, I know you want to.”

Keeping your eyes low, you shook your head, “I’m not really supposed to socialise with members.”

“Ah,” he leaned in a little closer, lowering himself to your eye level, “you’re a real good girl, aren’t you?”

Eyes growing wide at his suggestive word choice, you blushed, “e-excuse me, sir?”

“I noticed the way you were looking at me,” his studying gaze didn’t waver for a second. 

“Oh, that wasn’t-“

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell if you won’t.” He then leaned in even closer, “hey,” nearly whispering into your ear and effectively sending shivers down your spine, “if it fits your schedule better, we could just go into the billiard room right now…”

“Why would we-“

“My friends can stand by the door if you’re nervous,” he interrupted once more, reaching up to push a lock of your hair behind your ear, “no one will bother us, promise.”

Completely stunned by his bold proposal, it took you a few seconds to decline, “sir. I-… I’m gonna go back to work now…” then slowly picked up the now empty cardboard box and exited the room, leaving Sirius alone to pick up the pieces. 

“She’s new… I want her.” 

That was all Sirius had uttered to his friends before making his way over to hit on the new girl, occupied restocking the bar. 

Now standing there, alone and blinking hard, not understanding why his usual charm hadn’t worked on you, he heard his friends come up behind him.

“How did it go? You meeting her in the bathroom or what?” 

“She turned me down…” he was still frozen, staring out the door you’d disappeared through, with a stunned smile on his lips and a determent glint in his eyes. His words didn’t sound unhappy, simply surprised and even a little amused. 

“That’s nice, good for your health to be turned down by a pretty face such as hers. Also means you are in fact human after all,” Remus pulled out his box of cigarettes and swiftly tugged one into the corner of his lips to lite it, “so, that’s nice to know…” noticing the look in Sirius’s eye, “come on,” he wrapped an arm around his neck, “we’ll just go out tonight. Get you nice and pussy drunk. That’ll make you forget her in no time, promise.” 

“Funny seeing you here,” you didn’t even bother to look up as the slightly familiar voice found your ears. 

“Yeah,” you kept your eyes on the list in your hand just a little longer, “it’s almost like I work here or something.”

Finally glancing up, you met the intoxicatingly dark eyes of none other than Sirius Black, “you’re funny…”

“So,” you started moving along, not letting his bugging hold you back from executing your work, “is there anything I can do for you, sir?”

His long legs made it a piece of cake for him to follow along with you, “go out with me.”

Stopping your stride, you sighed, “Mr Black-”

“Please, call me Sirius,” he interrupted you with all the charm in the world.

“Mr Black, excuse me for being blunt but when will you get the hint?”

“Y/n, hey!”

This dude really doesn’t quit. 

“You know my name now,” you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling even if you wanted to. 

“Yeah, well I asked around a bit about you. That was just one of the many tantalising facts I learned about you,” he winked, and you tried your best to ignore the butterflies that cheap trick had successfully sent fluttering throughout your stomach. 

Moving to leave the room, he swiftly blocked the door, making you see nothing but his annoying smirk, “seriously dude, what will it take for you to just leave me alone?”

“Go out with me,” he shrugged lightly and crossed his arms. 

“No.”

“Why not?”

Feeling like you might explode if he didn’t get out of the way, you exclaimed, “because I’m not I’m not gonna sleep with you!” your eyes grew a bit wider at the proclamation you’d let slip out.

“Oh really?” he simply smiled, clearly just taking it as another challenge. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you hoped that the conversation would get less uncomfortable if you couldn’t see his jaw-dropping visage anymore, “yeah, I’ve heard what people say about you.”

Completely loving it, he clearly took that as a good thing, “really?”

“Yeah, well it’s like a fucking ghost story around here, so I didn’t have much of a choice. You’re just that kind of guy and that’s fine! But you just need to know, all that charm, it won’t work on me, so you might as well just turn around now. I am not just gonna be another notch in your belt, another hot new little thing for you to pass the time with, okay?”

Eyes still shut, you thought for a second he had left with how long he took to answer you, “okay, fine.” 

“Fine?” you finally blinked your eyes open.

“Fine,” he smiled, “I won’t sleep with you.” 

“Great!” you threw up your arms and moved to exit the room, though he stepped in front of you again, leaning down to be at your height.  

“I mean, it’s probably gonna be really hard for you to resist after the date I’ve got planned out, but sure, if you don’t want to.” 

Gnawing the corner of your bottom lip for but a moment, you gave out, “if I say yes to go on a date with you, one date, will you leave me alone?” 

Face only inches from your own, his smile grew wider as he agreed, “deal.”

“Mr Black! Welcome back, sir,” not only the security guard but also an older gentleman in a crisp suit had greeted you both at the entrance of the unusually vacated museum, “enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Henderson,” Sirius politely shook his hand before planting it on the small of your back, guiding you further inside. 

Glaring up at him as if he was an alien, he finally questioned your gaze, “what?”

“What are we doing in here?” you spoke in a near whisper, “the museum closed like 2 hours ago.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, climbing the big stone steps that lead up towards the first exhibit, “my family’s a big donator to this place, so I just pulled a few strings.”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you simply followed him into the first breathtaking room and breathed out, “okay…”

Even if the company was somewhat challenging, you couldn’t deny how the beauty hung up all around you made the evening at least tolerable. Your little art heart was too weak not to swoon at the sight of all the impressionistic pieces that were on display in this season's unique exhibit. Iconic pieces you could have only dreamed about studying this close. 

After a surprisingly long while where Sirius miraculously shut up and simply let you roam and relish in the paintings, you took a deep breath and decided to actually make the smallest of efforts to test if your companion did in fact have any more depth than a teaspoon. 

“So,” you started as he settled in beside you, his dark eyes washing over the landscape in front of you, “you’re home from uni for a bit?”

“Yep,” he buried his hands in the pockets of his black trousers, “oxford.”

You felt so strong for not just bolting in the opposite direction. “You’re an oxford man?” you scoffed, “should have figured…”

“Like my father was and his father before him,” he added rather coldly, sounding like this was a rehearsed reply that pained him to recite. 

“What do you study?”

“Business,” he kept his answer short. 

“Oh yeah?” you glanced over, trying to break through and see if his outsides matched his insides, “is it fun?” 

Brows furrowing, he turned to meet your gaze, “what does that have to do with it?”

“You don’t enjoy your major?”

“It’s just,” he inhaled deeply, uncomfortably trying to end this specific chat, “school, you know?”

“No, I actually don’t,” you informed him, slowly moving towards the next painting. 

“No?” he followed. 

“I don’t go to school,” you informed. 

“You don’t?” 

“No.”

“Oh, okay…” he averted his gaze, but still felt the need to explain his confusion, “I knew you liked art, so I just kinda assumed that you went to school for that or something…”

“Why bother paying a ridiculous amount of money in order to learn about something that I’m already really good at? No one is gonna deny me the right to create art just because I don’t have some fancy degree in it. If it’s a masterpiece, then it’s a masterpiece.”

“Yeah, I guess so…” you could tell how foreign your words were to him, “so that’s what you do for a living? You paint?” 

“It doesn’t pay the bills, but that’s not really the point now is it?” you reflected with a small smile, “just because it’s what I do doesn’t mean I earn a large profit from it, if any at all.”

For a moment, he just went quiet, staring at the many paintings with a slightly glossed-over look in his eyes. You were trying to catch his glances, read what it was that was going on inside that head of his, but your timid attempt at finding a new topic to blossom suddenly became the most effortless task in the world the second that he casually rolled his sleeves all the way up to his elbows.

“Wait, you have tattoos?” tumbled out of you as soon as you spotted the ink. 

“Yeah,” he gave a small shrug. 

“How did I not know that?” you asked, sounding genuinely interested. 

“Guess my pretty face was just a bit too distracting for you to notice,” he winked, regaining a bit of his usual confidence, “do you have any?”

“Yeah, a few. Though they’re just some stick-and-poke ones one of my friends gave me.”

“Aw, my first tattoo was a stick-and-poke one! I was 15 and it was at boarding school in the bathroom,” he remembered fondly. 

“Oh yeah? Your parents must have loved that,” you chuckled. 

“Oh, they don’t know.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, well, clothing can hide a lot and they only really see me a handful of days out of the year anyways, so… what they don’t know won’t hurt them.” 

Maybe he wasn’t so terrible after all… After finding a sliver of common ground, the rest of the conversation just flowed after that, making the remainder of the evening not just tolerable, but even enjoyable. 

Nearing the end of the tour, you felt his shoulder lightly bump yours, “you like it?” ripping you out of the trance the art piece in front of you had induced. 

“I mean, it’s a Monet,” you gestured towards it, finding his question a bit silly, “I think it’s physically impossible not to like it.”

“Darling, I wasn’t talking about the painting,” he clarified, smiling warmly down at you.

“Oh,” you looked up at him and couldn’t help but be blatantly honest, even if it meant that you had been wrong, “yeah, I guess it wasn’t half bad…” then cast your vision back on the painted pond and added as casually as you could muster, “but we are so not doing anything like this next time.”

“Next time?” 

“I swear to god,” you sighed, shutting your eyes, “if you don’t shut up in less than two seconds, I won’t hesitate to change my mind. You were just starting to grow on me.”

“Yes, ma’am, wouldn’t dream of it, I’m just standing here, looking at the art,” you heard him smile and peeped your eyes open to find him boldly still staring at you. 

“You sure we’re allowed to be up here?” Sirius asked, following you up the last bit of the clinking metal staircase in the seemingly abandoned factory you’d without context dragged him into. 

“Oh, don’t tell me that you're scared,” you playfully glanced over your shoulder at him, “doesn’t your daddy’s lawyer always bail you out of all the shady fun you and your friends get into?”

“Who exactly do you think we are?” he scoffed lightly, though didn’t deny your claim.  

“So, you’ve never committed a petty crime before? A party animal like you?”

“I have never done anything wrong in my entire life,” he shot back sarcastically. 

“Right you haven’t,” you chuckled, trying without success to bust open the rusty door, putting all your weight into it, “give me a hand, would you?” you requested breathlessly, his frame quickly following your command, stepping right up beside you, readying his shoulder and waiting for your go, “okay, one, two, three!” you both gave it a big shove, making it fly open and reveal not only the factory’s small, flat rooftop but also the most breathtaking view of the city’s skyline and the rabidly disappearing sun. 

Seemingly not impressed by the dingy surroundings, Sirius grumbled, “now do I get to know what we are doing tonight?”

“No sense of adventure…” you sighed teasingly, “I’m not telling you, you’ll have to find out yourself,” you sauntered over towards the small ledge by the section of the roof that sunk down a bit and had a bunch of vents and things. Taking a seat, you gestured to the cold concrete beside you and said, “now, sit.”

“You want me to sit?” he eyed the dirty surface mistrustingly. 

“Yeah,” you smiled, patting the spot with your fingers, “come on, you can sit on my jacket if you’re such a wuss.”

“Oh my god, fine, I’ll sit down,” he moved towards you, “just keep your jacket. Don’t want you to freeze to death.”

“You don’t? That’s reassuring to know,” you jested as he carefully took a seat beside you, dangling his long legs over the edge. 

“So… this is your big plan?” he asked, completely unimpressed, “sit on a filthy rooftop together?”

“Don’t mock when you don’t even know what it is yet,” you raised a defensive hand and then proposed confidently, “now, ask me a question.”

Furrowing his dark brows, he bit his lip in order not to stifle a laugh, “a question?”

“Yeah, you’ve got 20, so use them wisely,” you explained the childish game. 

“Oh my god…” he groaned as he caught on, although still played along, “okay, is it a thing?”

“Yes.”

His pristine hair blew in the wind as his eyes scanned the city below for clues, “is it big?”

“No.”

“Am I physically close to it?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see it?”

“No.”

“Okay, so it’s small and close by, but I can’t see it…” he recited underneath his breath, “is it, fuck, I don’t know,” he grumbled, both completely over the game yet also way too invested to just quit immediately, “your phone in your pocket?”

“Good one, but no!”

“Fuck, I don’t know! Am I even close?”

“You are closer than you might think.”

“Can I just get a little bit more of a hint?” he pouted in your direction. 

“Fine, it is within a meter of you.”

Head whipping around confused, “um, that’s literally just you. Is it you? Are you really calling yourself a thing right now?”

“No!” you snapped, slightly offended that he’d even think that, “just use your imagination for fuck sake. Don’t they teach you that at boarding school and fancy universities?”

Letting out a long exhale, he just kinda zones out a moment, genially scrambling for the answer and scanning every visible inch of you. “…I truly don’t know,” he then squinted his eyes at you, “was this some sort of test? Did I fail it?”

“No, calm down,” you pulled your backpack around to the front, ripping the biggest compartment open and fishing out a bottle of bargain beer for the both of you, “here,” you handed him one.

“What is this, a price for losing?” 

“No, that was the thing,” you placed the corner of the bottle’s cap up against the hard edge below you and gave it a swift tap, effectively popping it off and sending a lava flow of bubbles soaring down the dark glass and soaking your hand. 

“This was it?” he hesitated, but eventually mimicked your manoeuvre to open the lacklustre beverage. 

“Yep,” making the last letter pop as you raised the bottle up towards your lips. 

“You’re terrible at twenty questions,” he chuckled, taking a small sip. 

“You’re the one who couldn’t figure the answer out!”

“Yeah, because there was no way I was ever going to be able to figure that out! You can’t just be like Bilbo and ask for a person to guess what’s in your pocket, it has to be something the other person would be able to figure out.”

“That’s never how I played it, but if you wanna go again, play by your rules, then go right ahead, I’ll guess this time.” 

After the last of the beers, you’d brought with you were a thing of the past, after several rounds of that child-like play had flown by, the harsh chime of his phone interrupted your guessing of what you were pretty sure was the small spire visible in the horizon before you. 

Like a reflex, he fished it out of his pocket, and you watched as the soft smile quietly vanished from his features as if it had never been there to begin with, snuffed out and forgotten like last season’s fashion. It hadn’t been the first time you’d witnessed his phone be a mood killer, it happened at least once whenever he had been in your presence. 

“What is it?” you asked, tossing the game to the side to make room for the growing concern you simply couldn’t ignore any longer. 

“It’s nothing,” you watched his face twitch slightly as he read the message that plainly bothered him. Taking a deep breath, he tugged it away in his jacket and circled back to the quickly forgotten game, “you, um, still have 4 more questions till you run out-”

“Sirius,” you cut him off, determined to figure out what was troubling him, “who was that?” not giving you an answer, he simply averted his gaze. “I’m not gonna tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. Who do you think I know that I could spill all of your deep dark secrets to? My neighbour Mary who’s about 90? Oh yeah, she would have a field day, if she actually remembers to put her hearing aid in,” you joked, in an effort to get him to relax and open up, “come on, you can tell me.”

After a good long moment of him thoroughly biting his inner cheek, he finally spoke, “it was my dad. He wanted to remind me that I’m supposed to start sitting in on meetings beginning by tomorrow. Start doing my part for the family business and finally grow up. He wants me to follow in his footsteps. And I know that it must sound fascinating, running a huge company like that, but it truly isn’t. It’s just a bunch of long boring meetings with boring money-hungry people talking about boring numbers. It has absolutely nothing to do with the cars themself.”

“And that’s not what you want?” you asked softly. 

“That’s not the point,” he uttered, sounding downright exhausted. 

“Isn’t it? Do you want to follow in his footsteps?”

Staring out into nothing, he slowly let the truth slip out past his lips, “no...” the tiny word instantly hitting him like a truck, “fuck. I’ve never actually said that out loud before… I don’t wanna do that… I don’t know what it is that I want to do, but I sure as hell know it isn’t that. I don’t wanna become another soulless businessman like my father.”

“Can I ask you something?” you asked him gently. 

“Sure.”

“Why are you still studying business if you know that’s not what you wanna do?”

Exhaling heavily, “because I think what scares me even more than this future they’ve got all mapped out for me is the unknown. I don’t know what will happen if I hop off the train, but at least I know what it looks like inside and I know where it’s headed.”

Without giving it a second thought, you reached out and took his hand in yours. 

“You’ll get off. Might not be today, but someday you will.”

A soft smile spread across his lips as the stressful thoughts slowly melted away with the aid of your touch and he turned his attention back to the date. “I gotta admit, this wasn’t at all what I expected.”

“What did you think? That I was gonna take you to dinner at a michelin restaurant? Some day you will learn that money can’t buy you everything. I mean, just look at that view,” you nodded towards the blushing skies above, the sun now nearly disappeared down behind the many roofs of the city. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, not taking his eyes off of you for a second, “it’s beautiful.”

Not soon thereafter, when the dark night started to bloom and the date was due to end, you took him up on his adorably chivalrous offer and let him walk you back home. However, when you reached the outside of your building, he wasn’t the only one anymore that wasn’t ready to part ways yet. When you fumbled with the keys and he eagerly asked, “could I maybe walk you all the way in to your front door?” all you did was nod, because right now in this very moment, just one more minute of his charm was all you desired. 

“Just what floor did you say you lived on?” he puffed from behind you once you’d reached the third floor of the old apartment building. 

“I didn’t,” if you’d told him that you lived on the fifth floor, right underneath the roof in a tiny shoebox of an apartment, he properly wouldn’t have dared to climb the steep stairs with you. “And just because you're walking me to my door doesn’t mean you get to come inside, okay?”

“Got it.”

Even though he looked to be in phenomenal shape, you still noticed his attempt to hide how much of a tole this trek really was for him.

Once you finally reached the small dark door to your home, out of sight and out of mind down a narrow hallway, creaking it open, his eyes widened at the sight of your tiny apartment, “oh my god, that’s your apartment?” he didn’t even have to poke his head inside to be able to view every single millimetre, seeing as the whole flat in its entirety was probably the size of his bathroom. 

“That’s my apartment,” you confirmed, not finding the size as jarring as he did. 

“Is it even legal to live up here? Aren’t these attic rooms for storage or something?”

“They used to be, but now I promise it's totally above board.”

After letting out a small chuckle, he then took one last long look at you standing in the doorway, smiling warmly down at you, “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Yeah, me too,” you smiled, and when he then turned to take his leave, you stopped him, “hey Sirius?” still close, he turned around, “can I-, could I maybe-…”

Taking a step closer to you, he stared down at you and uttered, “what?”

“…can I kiss you?”

Not hesitating for even a second, probably just in case you would change your mind, Sirius bent down and boldly kissed you. The feel of his soft lips pressed against yours and his tongue confidently asking for entrance surprisingly didn’t increase your nerves, it minimised them. It felt oddly comfortable. Like you’d already done it a thousand times before. 

“Goodnight,” he breathed out, lingering just a little longer.

“Night.”

The persistent knocks at your door finally came to a screeching halt as you swung it open and revealed the unexpected figure of Sirius. 

“I need to talk to you,” he insisted, sounding out of breath, probably having sprinted up the stairs. 

Furrowing your brows at the less-than-warm greeting, you asked, “Sirius? What are you doing here? It’s 11 o'clock at night,” pushing past you, the small stumble he took as he crossed over the threshold didn’t manage to escape your perception, “hey, what’s going on?”

“Everything’s going on!” he bellowed, making you quickly close the door behind him and cross your fingers that the walls in your building weren’t as thin as you feared if he was going to continue at this dramatic volume. 

Whirling around to plant his unfocused eyes on you, you saw right through him and asked, “are you seriously drunk right now?”

Fully ignoring your question, he sank down onto your small couch and spoke wearily, staring out into your dimly lit home, “you messed everything up.”

“Excuse me,” you crossed your arms and closed your light robe a bit more to cover your less then modest pyjamas up, on the verge of just ripping the door open again so that you could kick him out, “I haven't done anything-”

“You messed up everything!” his unsteady eyes finally met your glare, “everything was just fine before I met you, there was a plan, a good plan,” he gesticulated with his right hand, “I didn’t see any problem with the plan till you had to show up and turn it all upside down,” you felt your heart start to sink as his intoxicated words impacted, “you ruined it all. You ruined me. For the first time in my life, the world is a truly terrifying place. It’s never been that way till you showed up,” you noticed his clenched jaw begin to quiver, “you are like a bright light, showing me just how dark my life actually is. I didn't ask for that perspective! I was perfectly fine just wandering around in the dark!”

“Sirius,” you reeled back, completely stunned by the tornado that had just interrupted your evening routine, “what are you-”

“You scare the shit out of me, Y/n,” he exclaimed, cutting your question off before it could fully form, “no girl has ever done that, except for you. Fuck, I love you! That terrifies me!” he sank down even further, nearly laying down at this point, overwhelmed by the storm brewing between his ears, “but what scares me even more is the thought of losing you.”

Completely stunned, you found your body slowly dropping down upon the mattress of your bed, sitting there at a complete loss for words, flabbergasted as you watched his low groans and curses gradually fade away until you picked up on how his breaths had slowed, and his lids had grown heavy, exhaustion snuffing him out like a flame.

Curled up on the windowsill, backlit by the morning sun, you raised your eyes from the sketchbook balanced on your bent knees, to reference the dark-haired man still passed out on your tiny couch. 

Even after you’d not so silently riffled through your pantry this morning, checking to see if you had any resemblance of a hangover cure hidden away in there, he still slept like a baby, through all the crinkly bags and accidentally dropped containers. 

Though now, as you weren’t really making any noise at all, simply emanating the silent scratching of your pen against paper, you saw him stir, inhaling sharply as he awoke.

“Morning sleepy head,” you tried to be mindful of your volume, the light wince your tone evoked from him clearly affirmed your suspicion of the horrible state the night before had put him in. 

Craning his neck to look at you, he sat up, squinting in confusion as the bright morning light washed over him, “Y/n, what, um,” his voice sounded like it had been through a meatgrinder, “what am I doing here?” 

“You don’t remember?” you sat the sketchbook down beside you but kept your seat in the window, merely shifted a bit. 

“I-… Did something happen?” his palm lifted up to shield his mouth in worry, “did we-”

“Oh my god, no,” you got what he was hinting at and quickly cut in to correct him before your cheeks had a chance to turn an even brighter shade of red, “you showed up here last night, completely wasted.”

“Oh…”

“Yelled at me for a little bit and then you kinda just passed out.”

“Fuck…” he sighed, jaw clenching from guilt, “Y/n, I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah, you should be,” you crossed your arms tightly across your chest, “what even happened last night? Were you just at some club and randomly decided to come and shout at me a bit?”

“I wasn’t out,” he shook his head, still not meeting your eye, “I was at this stupid party with my family, some fundraiser I think, and became maybe a bit too pissed and got into an argument with my dad,” taking a deep breath in, he spoke, “I told him that I’m dropping out of school and that I don’t want to take over the company.”

“Oh…” it nearly came out as a whisper. 

Taking shelter behind his hands, he lightly ran them down his face, “I’m really sorry,” he said earnestly, “I shouldn’t have bombarded you like that. I don’t remember what I said, but you don’t deserve any of it.”

Every word he had uttered the night before still played on a loop inside your mind, “…none of it?”

“No,” he finally met your gaze, “not one.”

Your churning stomach tried to prevent the words from flowing out, but your now fully bloomed feelings eventually prevailed as you found yourself asking him softly, “not even the part where you told me you love me?” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[alwaysonthemend]

The Nightcap | JMK

Author’s Note: This is the first fic I’ve written since my BBC Sherlock era so please bear with me. I’m a little nervous posting my writing after so much time but I also really want to get back into it because it’s so much fun! This is unbeta’d so all mistakes are my own. 

Summary: After leaving a party early, you and Josh head back to your place for a nightcap and a movie. Little do either of you know, things are about to heat up between the two of you. 

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, oral (f. receiving) hand jobs, p. in v. sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks!), swearing, minor sub Josh. 18+ MINORS DNI 

Word Count: 3499

Preview: 

He sat up from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – no doubt the most obscenely attractive thing you’d ever seen in your life.

“Holy fuck.” you breathed out, and Josh chuckled smugly at your blissed-out expression.

“Everyone always talks about a guitarist’s fingers…” He said with a wicked grin, “But no one ever talks about a vocalist’s tongue.”

“Cocky bastard.”

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

These parties always made you feel nervous. No matter how many of them you went to, you always felt slightly out of place and awkward. You barely know anyone here. You know the boys of course, having practically grown up alongside them, but it still felt too awkward to ask one of them to stay with you the whole time. You hadn’t even wanted to show up tonight, but Josh had seemed so disappointed when you said you might sit it out and so you’d relented and told him you’d at least come for a little while. Parties were his favorite after all.

The boys were abuzz with energy as you all made your way to the club downtown. They’d booked the whole place out and had invited practically all of their friends who lived nearby, along with a bunch of other people whom you had no idea who they even were. You’d made your rounds as you’d first arrived, saying hello to the few people you did know before making your way over to the bar to have a drink.

From your place at the bar, you could see just about everyone – it was far more packed than you had been expecting and definitely far louder than you were in the mood for. At this point, you were debating with yourself whether or not you should just get an Uber back to your house and call it a night. The day had been long, and this party wasn’t helping the headache mounting behind your eyes.

You rose from your seat, pulling out your phone to call an Uber when Josh slid up next to you, drink in hand.

“Hey y/n! What’s up?” His eyes were sparkling in the dim lighting of the club and his cheeks were pink from the excitement. He looked divine.

“Hey, Josh.” You smiled lightly, “I was just about to call an Uber actually. I’m a little tired and I just want to go to bed.”

His face fell slightly before his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you calling an Uber? Your place isn’t far, and I could drive you. An Uber would just be a waste of money.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer but I don’t mind paying for an Uber.” You gestured to the party going on around you. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to take you away from all this. You love parties!”

He gave you a toothy grin. He was wearing a low-cut V-neck shirt, and you could see the sweat on his chest glisten under the blue light of the club. He looked ethereal.

“Well yeah, I do. But I also would love to drive you back to your house. I wouldn’t mind. I promise.” He placed his glass on the bar and looked at you through his lashes. He looked sincere and you felt yourself caving.  

“Fine,” you conceded, “So long as you promise that you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all, mama. Come on!” You felt yourself blush at the nickname as you followed him out of the club and into the night air outside. The cold wind was a stark contrast to the stuffiness of the club, and you took a moment to breathe and feel the coolness on your cheeks. You and Josh made your way to his car, and he opened your door for you before getting in himself.

“Thank you again, Josh. You really didn’t have to take me home.” You said after a few moments of relaxed silence. Josh glanced at you for a moment, a soft look on his face, before turning his eyes back to the road.  

“It’s really no problem, y/n. I don’t mind.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the soft sounds of Fleet Foxes floating out from the car’s speakers. This was why you liked Josh. As much as he always seemed to like to talk, he didn’t ever make you feel like you had to entertain or keep up a conversation for things to not be awkward. He was perfectly content to just sit in silence and enjoy another person’s company. You felt lucky that you got to see this side of him.

“I don’t know how you do it, Josh – go to all these parties all the time. I don’t understand how you find the energy to do it and never get tired.” You laughed, watching the lights of the city blur past your window. He chuckled.  

“I do get tired of it sometimes, I’m just a little better at hiding it.” He glanced at you again before continuing in a softer voice. “I didn’t really want to go tonight, actually. I was only going to go if you agreed to go, too.”

You looked at him, startled.

“Why? I’m not exactly the most fun person to be around at parties.”

“You’re very fun to be around, y/n. I love getting to spend extra time with you. I miss you when we’re on tour.” His honesty made your cheeks warm with embarrassment and you were having a hard time coming up with something to say in response.

“Well,” you said after a moment, “I love getting to spend time with you, too. I only showed up tonight because you asked.”

“I’m honored.” He laughed, his own cheeks tinged a little pink.

The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence, and soon Josh was pulling into your driveway.

“M’lady.” He said with a dramatic flourish as he opened the car door for you again.

You giggled, taking the hand that he offered you as you stepped out of the car.

“Why thank you, my good sir.” You laughed. “Do you want to come in for a nightcap? I’ve got a bottle of wine calling my name right now if you’d like to join.”

He gave you a dazzling smile.

“That sounds amazing. Lead the way!”

The two of you made your way inside and Josh hooked his keys on the little hook on the wall before plopping down onto your sofa. You entered the kitchen, pulled two wine glasses from your cabinet, and placed them on the table. You grabbed the bottle of wine from your pantry, brought it over, and poured yourself and Josh a generous amount. He chuckled as he watched you fill the glasses. You put the bottle away before bringing them over to the sofa where Josh was sitting.

“Thanks for inviting me in, y/n. I really didn’t want to go back there. Far too loud for tonight.” He took a sip from his glass as you took a seat next to him.

“Consider it repayment for driving me home.” You took a sip from your own glass, reveling in the bitter taste on your tongue.

“Or maybe you’re just trying to spend more time with me.” He said with a sly grin.

“Hmm. Maybe. But you did accept my invitation so maybe you just wanted to spend extra time with me.”

He laughed softly. “Maybe so, y/n. Maybe so.”

Your heart rate picked up as he said the words and you brought your glass to your lips and took a large gulp to try and soothe the nerves away. Being alone with him like this, especially in your own house, was making your brain conjure up dangerous thoughts – thoughts that you usually tried to keep buried.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” You asked in a desperate attempt to break the tension. Josh probably knew exactly what you were doing but went along with it.

“Sure! Did you have a certain one in mind?”

“You’re the film guy. You choose.”

He chuckled, placing his drink on the coffee table, and got up to turn off the lamp. He walked back, grabbing the remote as he sat back down. You placed your own drink down next to his and you settled back into the couch, pulling a blanket off the back and covering your lap and Josh’s as he chose one. You weren’t sure what he chose, but your mind became otherwise occupied as he leaned back, and his thigh and shoulder pressed into yours. The heat from him spread through you like the wine had, leaving you warm and relaxed. His scent flooding your nose coupled with the alcohol left you feeling far more at ease than you had been before.

The movie started and you really did try to pay attention – but all your mind could focus on was the feeling of him pressed against you. You stole occasional glances at him, trying to memorize how the soft glow from the TV accentuated his jawline and how his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks. At some point, he brought his hand to rest on your knee, absent-mindedly tracing patterns there with his fingertips.

You did your best to keep your eyes focused on the screen and eventually, you found yourself being drawn into the story. At least, you had been for a little while until you felt Josh’s fingertips slowly ghost their way up higher on the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You glanced at Josh, but his eyes were still glued to the screen. He probably hadn’t even realized that he’d done it.

You turned your attention back to the movie, but it wasn’t long before Josh’s touch went even higher – high enough that it couldn’t have been an accident.

“Josh?” You whispered, scared to break the silence; scared to acknowledge what was happening. 

He turned to look at you, eyes dark and glistening in the light of the TV. 

“Y/n,” he whispered, swiping his bottom lip with his tongue. Your eyes tracked the movement before sweeping back up to his eyes. “Please tell me I’m not reading into this wrong. Tell me you want this too.” He looked so nervous – a look you’d never really seen on him before. He was always so confident, so sure of himself; seeing him look at you that way made you ache to reach out and soothe him. This was like a damn dream come true. You’d dreamed about being with him like this. You’d just never thought he would ever be interested in someone like you. There were thousands upon thousands of women who would kill someone to be where you were now, and Josh could have any one of them if he wanted. But somehow it was you that he wanted. It was you that got to see him like this – so vulnerable, his desire reflected clearly in his eyes. 

You must have taken too long to answer though, as he pulled his hand quickly from your thigh and stood awkwardly from the sofa. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I never should have assumed that-” 

You grabbed his wrist quickly, wrapping your fingers around him tightly. 

“Relax, Josh. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

He stared at you for a moment, his cheeks a bright red that you could see even in the dim light. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n. That was so rude of me.  I can leave. I won't ever bring this up again.” He made to pull his wrist from your hand, but you tighten your grip on him. 

“Josh,” you whispered, “I want this. I want you.” 

He stared at you, turning your words over in his mind. He looked divine, bathed in the light from the screen, his chest heaving with excitement. 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” You say as you pull him back down onto the sofa. You scoot backwards, bringing your back flush to the armrest and spread your legs. “Come here, Josh. I want this.” 

He crawls his way over to you, sitting on his knees between your thighs. His eyes are even darker than before, and the redness of his cheeks was now painted down his chest as well. You stare at him, waiting. Your heart is pounding, heat flooding between your legs as you stare at him. 

“Can I kiss you?” He says, as he brings his palms to your thighs and leans over you, your chests flush against each other. You ghost your lips over his, feeling their softness. 

“Please do.” 

He brings his lips to yours in a searing kiss, immediately plunging his tongue between your lips in a greedy display of lust. You whine quietly as he licks his way into your mouth, and you bring your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks between them. He presses his hips to yours and you can feel his cock straining through the fabric of his pants, and you can feel your own wetness soaking through your panties. You don’t remember the last time you were this turned on. You feel dizzy – drunk on lust and desire for the man on top of you. 

His lips leave yours and you chase them, but he brings them to your neck instead, pressing searing hot kisses down your throat. He pulls away briefly to pull your shirt over your head before returning his mouth to the hollow of your throat. Your hands move upwards, ghosting over the shaved sides of his head before tangling in his unruly curls. You give them a tug and he groans, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Do you like that, Josh? Like it when I pull your hair?” You ask breathlessly, tugging again at his hair. 

He moans again and you feel his cock twitch as he ruts himself against your clothed pussy. 

“Fuck, mama…” he breathes, tongue licking over the valley between your breasts as he brings his right hand to the waistband of your pants. He brings his mouth away from you as he pulls them off, groaning at the sight of your lace thong. You mentally high-five yourself for choosing to put them on that morning. 

“Can I taste you, y/n?” He looks up at you from underneath his lashes and you swear you’ve never seen something more sinful. His lips are red and swollen and his chest glistens with sweat. He looks absolutely ravished already. 

“Whatever you want, Joshy.” 

He gives you a wicked grin before lifting your hips to slide your panties down your thighs. He brings them to his nose and inhales, moaning at the scent before tossing them somewhere in the room. That action alone makes your pussy ache with need for him, and you can feel yourself practically vibrating with excitement and desire. 

He lowers his head between your thighs and swipes his tongue through your folds, lapping at the wetness collected there. You breathe out a stuttered breath and throw your head back, eyes closed tight. He repeats the action, this time swirling the tip of his tongue around your swollen clit. 

“Oh God!” you whine, completely lost in the sensations of his tongue.  

He chuckles, and the vibration leaves you feeling completely drunk on arousal. He continues his ministrations, and it isn't long before you feel that familiar coil tightening in your belly. He brings one hand to cup your chin, thrusting his middle and pointer fingers into your mouth. You suck on them obediently before he pulls them out and sinks them into you, never once stopping with his talented tongue. He curls his fingers inside you, brushing against the spot that few men had ever been able to find as he suckled on your clit and your orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave. Your vision whited out as your entire body shook and you let out a wail of Josh’s name. 

He sat up from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – no doubt the most obscenely attractive thing you’d ever seen in your life. 

“Holy fuck.” you breathed out, and Josh chuckled smugly at your blissed-out expression. 

“Everyone always talks about a guitarist’s fingers…” He said with a wicked grin. “But no one ever talks about a vocalist’s tongue.” 

“Cocky bastard.” You laugh, sitting up and reaching for his pants. You pull them off him, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He tears his own shirt off his head and you take a moment to just look at him. You can see his cock still straining through his boxers and his chest is red and heaving. His chin is covered in your wetness. 

“You look divine.” You say, pushing him back into a sitting position. 

“Speak for yourself, darling.” He slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders and reaches behind you to unclip it with one hand. He uses his other hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You’re completely naked now, and Josh is staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You throw one leg over him, straddling his waist and grinding your pussy down on his cock. His hardness coupled with the roughness of the fabric of his boxers gives you the most delicious friction. He lets out a whine that’s like music to your ears. 

“I don’t have any condoms…” He mutters breathlessly, hands gripping your hips so hard they’ll probably leave bruises. 

“I’m clean. And I’m on birth control.” You say as you lean down to kiss him again. He moans as you bite his lower lip. 

“You sure?” He says, breaking the kiss to look up at you through hooded eyes. 

“Yes. Wanna feel you all the way.” You say as you pull his boxers down. He kicks them off and you take a moment to admire him. His head is an angry red and pearly droplets of precum leak from it. You scoot down lower on his thighs and spit into your hand before wrapping your fingers around his cock. He whines again and lets his head fall back onto the back of the couch. You pump up and down a few times, increasing your speed as you go. He lets out a breathy moan that sends shocks of arousal down into your pussy. You want nothing more than to sink down on him already, but you continue to jack him off with your hand. You want to see how far you can push him. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.” He whines, lifting his head to stare at you. You chuckle and speed up your hand while you start to massage his balls with the other. 

“Mama…” he moans again, and you can feel his balls tighten. He’s about to cum so you squeeze your hand tightly around the base of his dick. He yelps and groans, hips pushing up to try and chase his release. 

“Not yet, baby. Want you to come inside me.” You let go of his cock and bring your own hand to your clit, flicking it a few times before sinking down on him. 

You both moan loudly as you bottom out and you feel like you could cum from the feeling of him stretching you alone. You sit still for a moment, adjusting to his size before you slowly start to rock your hips. He moans and slides his hands down to grip your ass, squeezing as you bounce up and down on him. 

“Fuck, y/n, you feel so good. So tight.” 

“You’re doing so good, Josh. Such a good boy for me.” You moan, picking up your pace. He groans and bucks his hips at the nickname. 

“You like when I call you a good boy?” 

“So much, mama. Wanna be your good boy.” He ruts his hips into yours, meeting you in the middle as you ride him. You can feel yourself right on the edge, but you want to see him cum first. 

“You are my good boy, Josh. You’re so fucking perfect. So needy. So good for me.” And with one final thrust into you, you feel him explode in you, painting your walls with his release. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Holy shit.” He whines, and the sound of his needy moans coupled with the pleasure painted over his face brings you to your own release as well. The coil in your belly snaps for a second time and you moan his name as you ride out your orgasm. 

You rise off him, collapsing onto the sofa next to him. 

“Holy shit.” He laughs breathlessly. “You are something else, mama.” 

You laugh, turning over to kiss him softly. 

“So are you, baby. You were so good for me.” He smiles lazily at you, eyes now shining with something more than just lust. 

“I’m glad you invited me in.” 

You laughed loudly. 

“Me too.’’ You could feel the tendrils of sleep beginning to cloud your mind and you rose slowly from the couch. Josh looked up at you, his messy curls falling onto his forehead. You extended your hand toward him 

“Stay with me tonight?” 

He smiled softly at you and took your hand. 

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

[rainhidesmytears]

Valdemar x Wife! Reader

(This is honestly a cute little idea I had purely based upon my own fascination with this unique and lovingly violent character. We aren't here for perfection folks! The genre is called fantasy for a reason!! Please enjoy my sappy nonsense 🩷)

It was a fun little idea that I find amusing - this traveling doctor getting off from the ferry as it docks in Vesuvia, happens to be a penpal of Julian's that he's finally been able to convince to return home to visit everyone. Visiting the Palace to greet him because Nadia invited their friends to tea and he got permission to have a visitor join them.

It may be a little odd, but I don’t write much so it's okay, have fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ilya, is that you? You're much taller than I remember! It's good to see you! Nice eyepatch. It adds to the whole pirate look you've got going on." The woman greets the redhead warmly, embracing in a quick one armed hug as she still carried her bag on the opposite shoulder. "How've you been? Last I'd heard, you were off fighting magical beings and breaking chains and such. Bunch of sparkling, glittery nonsense, if you ask me." It gets Julian to laugh, as he was never very fond of magic to begin with, always preferring the cold hard facts of scientific research.

"You're telling me! I was thrown into a giant magical floating ocean with enormous flying sea creatures! They were very friendly, of course, and the view was incredible, but I didn't exactly appreciate being on a false ground that moved out from under my feet." As Julian had awaited her arrival on the ferry, the two had begun catching up as they made their way towards the Palace, having been granted permission to attend a sort of tea party with the Countess as everyone's relationships had since been mended after the defeat of the Devil. "You'll love the cakes, Portia bakes them herself. Oh! Did I tell you she and Nadia finally went on a date? You've much to catch up on, it's been ages since you've been home."

With the eager aggreance of his friend, the pair had finally made it inside and headed towards the salon where the others waited. Apparently the Countess had a last minute meeting that had to be dealt with, if the courtiers all filing out of the room after her were any indication. Though, before proper introductions could be held, the woman had suddenly dropped her bag and broke into a dead sprint towards the now somewhat reformed Quaestor. The five attendees of said tea party had no chance to warn her of the horned doctor's dislike of- well- anyone, before the entire hall was caught in a shocked silence at the scene before them.

Valdemar had originally intended to leave the meeting and return to the dungeons for more experiments, only to greet Julian's new friend with open arms when she had thrown herself into his waiting embrace. This mysterious friend of Julian's even has the audacity (or what any of the medical attendings would call the lack of a will to live) to press a chaste kiss to the side of the Quaestor's mask before being set back down. While the wide eyed stares on the pair of them seem to go unnoticed by the woman, Valdemar is very much amused by the current situation. Nadia doesn't have a chance to say anything before she's struck speechless by an amused and less than menacing chuckle from the Quaestor. No one has ever heard him show any sort of emotion that wasn't within malicious intent.

"You ruin the cleanliness of my masks at every turn. What am I going to do with you?" It's more of a tease than a true question, note even going as far as brushing himself off as he had done so with anyone else who came within close proximity. No one has the heart to move or say anything lest it end this confusion in bloodshed.

"I mean, you could always strap me to that vivisection table of yours, but then I think we'd both have a little too much fun and not in the way of science~" She had immediately began teasing the feared horned doctor, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle, showing off more of the amusement he felt. The Quaestor certainly a master of composure, as anyone else would have laughed at such a frivolous remark. It was clear that this seemed to be a very happy reunion, but no one could figure out why.

"I take it you two know each other?" Julian's question sparks laughter from the woman and a quick amused glance away from the Quaestor. The current situation was hilarious in the eyes of the two, but he holds his reputation rather high, so they only laughter he usually allows is when it terrifies those around him. Had it not been for his friend jumping up and kissing his previous employer, he'd have been far braver in sense of curiosities needing to be quelled.

"Well, if I didn't know who he was, I doubt I'd have married him. Especially with that horrible habit of leaving unfinished experiments all over the dining room table~" She only teases her husband more, even in front of Julian and the Countess who was his underling and is his current employer respectively. Though instead of the fury or wrath they're expecting, all they see is his exasperated sigh and a light swatting at this cackling woman even while she pats his hands away. Their current view of the pair is almost like that of an old married couple they'd meet in the market.

"That is a stretch of the truth, as we are both well aware. You distract me frequently. How can I ever finish my work?" His tone is gentle and scolding, but it holds no real heat behind it. But his wife only laughs, beaming brightly up at the Quaestor as she still very clearly has to tilt her head back for them to see eye to eye. Had none of them been previously afraid of Valdemar, they'd see his gentle hand on the back of her head to prevent pain as endearing, and somewhat thoughtful.

"Every good doctor needs rest. Whether it's sleeping or reading a book by the fire with their ever distracting wife. You work too hard, Dear. I want you to be as healthy as you keep me. Demon capabilities or not, I am a woman and your wife. No matter how hard you try, you'll never win this argument." Her immediate reply to his light complaint is that of care and amusement, refusing to allow her beloved doctor to work himself to death regardless of the power he once held.

"You'd never allow me, regardless." Valdemar's brow raises at her quick agreance, only encouraging her further with another quiet chuckle before they've leaned down and moved their mask to leave a light kiss to the crown of her head. Once his posture had straightened, the Quaestor readjusted the mask and bid fairwell to the audience they had ended up with, as he left the party and headed back to the dungeons to work on an experiment.

No one had ever seen even the vague hints of his personal life, not even the other courtiers whom had known him for centuries had ever heard even a whisper from his lips of anything of himself that wasn't a carnal urge for blood or death. They all have so many questions once the party finally makes it into the salon, funnily enough by the woman's lead. Her laughter as the courtiers had quickly joined them, was only amplified by their rapid fire questions mixed together with Julian's and the others.

Nadia: "The Quaestor has a wife?"

Asra: "Wait- he's married? Like actually married?"

Portia: "You're not a zombie experiment that swears loyalty to him?"

Valerius: "How the fuck- please excuse my language, your Grace- but how the fuck did he get married?"

Julian: "The letters she writes are slanted and not nearly as neat as Valdemar’s and he's one dangerous stickler for neatness and cleanliness."

Vlastomis: "How the did you get him to exchange letters?"

Vulgora: "Did he best you in a fight? No? NO? WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?"

Her laughter turns to wheezes under their investigation, especially when the Pontifex had brought mention of a lost duel into the conversation. "Stars, no! Nothing like that at all! We've been married for the last 15 years. No fights, or deals, or magical spells or experiments gone wrong, I can assure you." They finally calm themselves enough for her laughter to die down, and when she has the chance to give a little bit of the history between them, it only shocks them again.

"He'd happened to need stitches while I was traveling the continent, and we just sort of hit it off. He likes to say he'd had an entire courtship planned out, but he's just full of hot air. I had that man red in the face and wide eyed every time I flirted with him. Especially when he was covered in blood after an amputation. But that's a story for another time." The collective whines of wanting to hear more of the sappy details came mainly from the Devorak twins and Volta, but the others seemed relieved they wouldn't have to head the more mushy side of the Quaestor. It only seemed to make him that much more intimidating.

"He prides himself on his work, so I can't blame him for never mentioning me. Honestly, I feel like people would worry too much about the thought of him having a wife instead of the effort he puts into his work, so I've never had the idea to go broadcasting his name or occupation. But I'm so glad to see that he's right here in Vesuvia! Just means I can move into that house I bought to be closer to him instead of traveling by sea every month. Now! Julian mentioned some cakes, do we still have a chance for those?"

[not-poignant]

I'm rereading utb and while i def understand and agree with ef being held accountable for things, at the same time, it seems like everyone is constantly acting as if he's supposed to know how to have a healthy relationship and to cope with his emotions, much less his trauma, without anyone actually explaining or modeling this

Like, everyone constantly brings up the fact that he tried to kill Kadek even once they've acknowledged why and gary is starting a relationship with him while also essentially his prison warden and with how little ef has experienced in the world, especially as a psychologist, gary still not doing anything to help him get better coping skills makes it feel like he's setting him up to fail

Like, temsen is technically correct that ef domestically abused gary but he has literally never seen a non abusive partnership and is literally a prisoner in his current one

Idk, I really love this fic so, so much and thank you for writing it and i don't even need a response or anything, I just get defensive of ef when I'm reading sometimes bc he's trying so, so hard basically all the time and it seems like people acknowledge it sometimes in the moment but then don't give him the tools to make it any easier

Answering this one publicly because I know you're not the only one who feels this way or has felt this way!

Okay firstly, some of this conflict I'm evoking in the reader is intentional. I want people to feel defensive of Efnisien. I want people to think 'hey, hang on a minute.' There's a lot of reasons I want that, including the fact that in reality, most people don't recover from being abusive even after they've been in horrifically abusive situations in a vacuum (i.e. the whole world doesn't suddenly stop and become soft as cotton wool just because you've been abused! If you go and interview a whole bunch of people in jail right now, a lot of those folks (especially those who have done repeated serious crimes) will have experienced horrendous and incredibly unfair amounts of abuse, y'know? It's complicated. Yes, they have a right to heal and a right to support. Some of them probably did some pretty awful crimes as well. *coughs*serial killers*coughs*)

Obviously Efnisien is nowhere near that level, but the dissonance remains. He's certainly tried to murder more than one person. But we root for the person whose perspective we're reading. Still, people do not heal in a comfortable vacuum. In fact, most people are asked to be accountable for bad behaviour usually while suffering terribly. Because most people - unless they're certain kinds of extremely rare people - do bad behaviour because they don't know better and/or they're suffering intensely and it can momentarily feel good or satisfying to make other people hurt too.

That's an extremely hard process for the folks who are in that situation. Anyone who has had to recognise they're being a bully, or being abusive, usually goes through a period of time where they can't just immediately change, and what's expected of them seems impossible.

Now to everything else:

This world is a dystopia. There are things happening which aren't going to feel good when you're reading - systemic issues, issues around unfairness - because it's a dystopia. If those things weren't happening, and people just felt blithely comfortable with the entire world, well, that's not actually what I'm going for. There are times it should feel extremely disturbing to read.

So there are times I want readers to feel like things are unfair. There are times I want them to feel very strongly in one person's defense and only later realise the other person was hurt too. There are times I want them to feel like everyone is being unfair to a character. And times when I want folks to feel like the situation just sucks all round. Like, my intention in amongst the hurt/comfort isn't for things to feel easy or nice all the time, I am absolutely challenging the reader by introducing things that feel uncomfortable.

So when folks like yourself tell me this stuff it's like - yeah! It's a dystopia! And - yeah! Unfair things are definitely happening. This is especially true in the beginning when no one really has a concept of how bad things have been for Efnisien, or that he's an alpha. It remains true because no one is perfect. But it happens less often, that's what makes it feel more jarring as the story goes on. If you're rereading it's going to feel worse in the beginning, that's on purpose. The story is doing its job.

it seems like everyone is constantly acting as if he's supposed to know how to have a healthy relationship and to cope with his emotions

I don't really know what scenes you're specifically referring to here (like, just the first few chapters? The whole story? Temsen's single lecture?), but this is absolutely not the case. I'm going to look at the whole story:

The majority of the time that Efnisien is rude and disrespectful, especially once Efnisien and Gary are living together, Gary mostly ignores him, brushes it off, doesn't react or responds like it's normal dialogue lol. He's not constantly correcting his behaviour and he's not constantly like 'hey rephrase that to be polite' or 'I have feelings too' (maybe he should say the latter sometimes).

Gary is more aware than anyone that he shouldn't be Efnisien's guardian and that he's not a companion. He says this, out loud, to several people, several times. So we know that he knows that the situation isn't great / fair re: Efnisien's care (and frankly his own. Of the two of them, Gary's the one who keeps coming close to potentially dying from the other person's actions).

especially as a psychologist, gary still not doing anything to help him get better coping skills makes it feel like he's setting him up to fail

Gary is not Efnisien's psychologist. And psychologists are not doing their jobs on absolutely everyone, 24/7! This one is so important to remember (both in real life and sometimes in fiction). He's categorically not Efnisien's psychologist and it would be even more toxic if he attempted to be this if they were living together!

Gary being a psychologist is his job in the same way being an artist is a job, it's not specifically relevant to their relationship, except that Gary sometimes has better understanding of the root/s of some behaviours.

Ask any psychologist how they live at home and most of them do not want anything to do with their psychology jobs in their personal life, because they're mentally fatigued/tired from talking to people all day. They are not perfect people, they don't have perfect control over their emotions, they aren't teaching everyone the coping mechanisms they need to survive (this takes a lot of labour! It's exhausting! People can't do that 24 hours a day and stay sane. It gets toxic fast.)

The majority of the time Efnisien has extreme emotional responses, Gary just tends to absorb them, acknowledge them, or actively care for him. It's easy to miss these moments because I'm usually not making you feel conflicted about it.

The times Efnisien has extreme emotional responses and then chooses to repeatedly hurt Gary, there are often extreme emotional responses that follow because you know, that's what Efnisien was aiming for! He was trying to severely hurt someone!

Let's move onto Temsen and Efnisien, because this might be more of what you're thinking of, since Gary almost never holds Efnisien accountable tbh. Temsen is a doctor, and a peak alpha who is a leading educator in academic omega rights and theory. He is the first to deeply understand how young alphas left to get away with their smaller abusive behaviours are the kind of alphas who grow up into rapists, murderers and torturers like Christian in Underline the Blue.

(I just want to add, Christian's own abuse and PTSD is real, I don't think any of us are rushing to hold his hand and pat his head, because we sympathise with Nate more than Christian. But Christian has real pain, and real suffering too. He's a great example of how 'you're still accountable for your behaviour though' at its most extreme).

So, Temsen sees Efnisien's behaviour and he lectures and shuts him down like he would any young alpha who is on a really dangerous path. Even within that, he acknowledges himself - out loud - that it's a complicated situation and the time he comes down on Efnisien the hardest, he says the timing is poor. The majority of the time, he shows Efnisien compassion and care, and listens to his opinions, even when they disagree. He is the first to validate his gender both repeatedly in words, and in hormone and medical support. He's the first to change his approach to Efnisien's medical care when Efnisien calls out his lack of respecting his right to privacy, and he's the first to correct Gary about it when Gary expects Temsen to keep giving him information. He offers pragmatic, compassionate advice about many sensitive subjects in Efnisien's life, his health, his secondary gender, his nesting behaviours. And I would say this is how Temsen actually models better behaviour.

Temsen doesn't expect Efnisien to have all of these skills, but Efnisien has to be told what he's doing wrong and how that's not acceptable behaviour and how he's hurting people, to start learning those skills! Otherwise why would anyone bother? Vindictively hurting other people in moments of rage can feel satisfying for folks who aren't being held accountable.

You say no one is modelling better behaviour to Efnisien so I'm just going to pose some questions that are rhetorical:

How many alphas at HIllview are mounting or torturing Efnisien every day? Does Efnisien have choices in what he eats? Is Efnisien's opinion listened to more and more, especially in matters of his health? Do they care about his pain and offer him painkillers when he's suffering? Are the characters in the story trying to enrich his experiences and help him to become a more mature person by helping him overcome his fears of things like going outside? Are the characters deliberately trying to expand his support network by helping him see new people and lean on them for help, instead of keeping him in a box and forbidding him from seeing anyone? While also taking into account the safety of others?

Are the characters largely gender affirming once they learn more about Efnisien?

Are the characters actively teaching Efnisien social sciences to help him understand more about the world and human rights, which includes his own rights?

Do the characters acknowledge that Hillview isn't an ideal place for Efnisien, just a good place for now?

Do the characters want Efnisien to have a future where he's happier?

Do the characters allow Efnisien to have his emotional responses as long as they're not also abusive responses? For example, is Efnisien allowed to cry, nest, seek comfort, or even be angry, provided he's not being domestically violent? (The answer is yes).

Do the characters to the best of their ability explain things clearly and maintain their own boundaries around Efnisien to remind him that he can also maintain his own boundaries?

Are Efnisien's wishes largely respected where possible? (The answer here is also yes - such as refusing internal exams with Temsen, or having control over what he does most days and how he spends his time etc.)

Can Efnisien see lots of examples of people talking civilly to each other and often with great care, and not being abusive to each other? Can he see alternative forms of conflict resolution, management and repair?

Is Efnisien offered opportunities to repair rifts that he's created himself, after being cruel to someone?

This is just a start, but these people through these behaviours are already role-modelling a ton of better behaviours than anything Efnisien has been exposed to in the past. And we can see that Gary himself role models a lot of these things to Efnisien directly, including apologising frequently and quickly when he realises he's made mistakes. This is how Efnisien learned to apologise! And he literally has thoughts like 'Gary does this / so I guess I should do it too.' That's literally role modelling a behaviour :D

Gary's actually a pretty good role model, and the only reason Efnisien's behaviour starts to improve at Hillview as well as his quality of life is because Gary and Temsen are role modelling these behaviours.

Like, temsen is technically correct that ef domestically abused gary but he has literally never seen a non abusive partnership and is literally a prisoner in his current one

Efnisien isn't literally a prisoner in his current relationship!

I feel like when folks identify really strongly with a character, it's very easy to miss the times when Gary and Temsen for example brainstorm ways for Efnisien not to live with Gary. Aside from at the very beginning, these characters have actually talked about - in the story, in dialogue - options for Efnisien to not live with Gary.

Like they literally talk about making Efnisien a new room in the headquarters and possibly even building him his own building down the track so he doesn't have to be with Gary! As they trust Efnisien more, they offer many options to him. As the story goes on, they are absolutely not forcing Efnisien to stay with Gary, and nor is Gary. Efnisien himself communicates clearly that he would rather live with Gary than be on his own. This is something that gets checked in on, and more than one option is given to him.

Missing this is understandable, it's a long story, but it also means it's not true that Efnisien is a prisoner in that he's being forced to live with Gary. That's only true in the beginning when they literally think he's just a murderer/attempted murderer who's going to kill everyone at Hillview. As the story progresses, it shifts to 'well he's not a murderer, what are his other options?'

Can Efnisien live a free life wherever he wants? No. That's where the 'dystopian universe' tag comes in. He's not safe to, but Hillview staff wouldn't be concerned with educating him and teaching him independence if they didn't want him to live as independently as possible one day. It's not like Gary has to try to get Efnisien comfortable with going outside and experiencing the outside world, and it's not like he has to encourage Efnisien to meet omegas and betas etc. to hear different opinions, y'know?

But yeah the role modelling is happening: Efnisien's showing more and more tools in coping all the time! He's been growing them since the beginning of the fic. He's learned to communicate better. He's learned how to articulate what he wants and doesn't want more clearly. He's learned how to care more for others even if he often misses that he has the power to really hurt them. He's learned more (not less) confidence. He's having less (not more) trauma responses. He's learned how to trust in the people around him more, so he's starting to talk more about his experiences of gender. He's learned that what he went through was wrong, and is sharing more about the abuse he suffered.

These things would not be happening in a story where people weren't giving him the tools to cope with his life or weren't showing him ways to communicate differently.

The reason Efnisien talks more clearly and articulately now in the story, the reason he laughs more, cries more (which is more open/honest imho and healthier than repressing it), talks more, talks about his past more, expresses his opinion more is because Hillview has been equipping him with more tools to live a richer life pretty much as soon as they realised he's not going to just murder people at the drop of a hat.

In some ways they're showing more trust than our society would because like, attempted murder could land him in jail for a while in our society, y'know?

The reason they haven't paired him with an actual psychologist is that they don't have any peak alpha psychologists and Efnisien can use alpha persuasion on anyone else, and would certainly get angry enough in therapy to use it. We only need to look at how Efnisien responded to Dr Gary in Falling Falling Stars sometimes in therapy sessions to see that yes, this is a guy who - if he had the tool of alpha persuasion - would absolutely use it to get a therapist to shut the fuck up when he felt like it, lol.

But yeah, as always, if folks are feeling really uncomfortable when reading something I've written, it's often intentional. You're right, Efnisien's situation is unfair. A few of the specifics you've brought up aren't true, and have missed things in the story, but it's still not a fair experience, it's not always a pleasant experience, and it's...pretty dystopian!

When we get really deep into our emotional connection to a character, it can still help to remember that the situation often isn't exactly the same as it feels. But this story also has the tags: darkfic / disturbing themes / dystopian universe for a reason! The visceral discomfort is a feature, not a bug.

[cpunkwitch]

do you have any witchy recommendations for newbie who's mostly in bed? stuff to look into or do when spoons allow :0

Yes yes (also we love the lil wooper)

There's a bunch of things you can do that are low effort and spoon saving, and I have all kinds of tips for beginner witches.

There's a lot of "tips for baby witches" posts out there but pretty much none of them have disabled folk in mind

I'm more than happy to write a post if people would like.

But as for things you can do from bed for now

Chants, verbal spells. You can say these in your head, it doesn't have to be out loud, you know you've said it and that's enough. Just about anything with intention can be a spell of you want, such as affirmations. It doesn't have to rhyme, you can simply state that "today will be good, my pain will be less" and you've casted a verbal spell.

Something as simple as tea or coffee can be a potion, taking a sip with an intention in mind, stirring one way or the other with your intent in mind and even steeping, are all acts you can do to that are a bit witchy. (I can create a whole seperate post on this subject alone)

If you're able, placing sigils (or runes if you prefer) on your walls nearby can help too. I have 3 next to my bed for healing, protection and cleansing, I first added sigils around my room when we moved in and I'd gotten the flu. Any symbols you feel are significant can work so long as you put your intent behind them

Cards. I actually do all my tarot from bed, if I can get myself to sit up then I can use the surface to cut the deck and help me shuffle before laying them out. It doesn't have to be tarot specifically, you can write or draw on a set of playing cards to have anything on them you'd like, from symbols to spells. You can even use any variant of the cards against humanity game if you have one, or uno if you want. Any cards work if you would like.

Wearing things like certain colours, symbols, accessories etc can be witchy too. Each colour right to the shade has a different meaning, corresponding intention and use. Symbols like animals, shapes, words and other graphics can have meaning as well. I often wear jewelry for different intentions. My name necklace I wear for Loki, I often wear dark shades (because that's what we have and) because I find them calming and comforting as well as deterring. Black is best for banishment and protection for example.

If scents aren't bothersome, you can light a candle as long as you keep fire safety in mind, or incense or you could use different oils or creams etc. essential oils can be put of tissue and placed in different spots for a desired effect, wearing perfume or creams etc can help too.

Just like tarot being primarily about interpretation, witchcraft is about intention. Both are left up to you on how you go about it.

Just about anything can be witchy if you do your research.

[roonotrue]

Cotl Fanfic - Thoughts & Opinions?

So, this is the first post on this new account and it's a question for my Cult of the Lamb fandom pookies. I just recently got the game and I'm obsessed with it and have been thinking about writing a BUNCH of fanfiction.

So I wanted notes and suggestions on some things, and I might even make polls on some of them, starting most importantly with the topic below:

Gender, Pronouns, and Sexuality that are so far, are solely based on vibes and what I've seen the rest of the fandom agreeing on (And canon of course):

- The Lamb's identity will probs change depending on the fic type, but for most of them they will be assigned male at birth, He/They & Pansexual. Simple and sweet because our lamb boi is just tryna SURVIVE out here in a cult of idiots that can't even cook their own food or clean up their own shit. (Is this just me wanting to write more he/they characters in my stories because I'm he/they? Yes. Yes, it is folks.)

- Narinder is transgender male He/Him. I'm making him transgender male because I said so. I want more trans rep guys, leave me alone. & Homosexual because if his whole vibe and personality doesn't scream gay angsty emo cat I don't know what else in this world does.

- Leshy is cisgender He/Him. I can imagine him experimenting with they/them though. I may include something on that... If anyone has any notes on that I'm all ears. Best Bi. His level of chaos just radiates ADHD bisexual with way too much energy and free time.

- Heket is cis-gender She/Her. The only girlie in the family, fates have mercy on her and her patience. A lesbian for sure. I think the whole fandom just sort of agrees on this, right? With like, lots of wives because she is a highkey baddie? At least that's the impression I've been given based on all of her fanart and simps.

- Calamari- Sorry, I mean Kallamar, is cis-gendered He/Him. I was thinking of making him a transgender man too? Idk, I've just been told the cis's need rep too, and it made me gag and now I want to wave my magic writer wand and make all the characters trans and nonbinary. Opinions on that are welcome. Anyway. A pansexual, and I hear he canonically had multiple spouses? Despite looking like he has zero rizz. I mean, damn. Good for him I guess. Go squid boy, go.

In this, he's gonna be single though, because I like the idea of him struggling to find new spouses and Heket laughing at his struggle.

- Shamura is absolutely nonbinary they/them. A friend has told me this is canon, and that people may gun for my fucking throat if I change it. Not that I really want to, it fits. Shamura is lowkey one of my favorites. I just like spiders. I'm also deeply afraid of them and cry if I see them irl. I also think they're bisexual in the exact opposite way as Leshy, in that they are a calm, mildly tired wine aunt of the family, mixed with the senile grandparent that snores loudly then stops and everyone pauses and looks at each other like 'Are... Are they fucking dead?'

Anyway, this is a long post, but I needed to get this out there before I started writing stuff for this fandom. Any opinions are welcome, but no bullying other people's thoughts, and be chill guys.

Fr. I'm like a skittish cat, you'll scare me away, and then no one gets fanfiction.

[userwoosan]

Kpopblr Content Creator Tags Masterdoc

Hello kpopblr!

Some of you may already know but I have started a giant google doc that contains as many network, source, hourly, and individual blog tags as I could muster, along with the help of some other folks and mutuals I know to create an important resource that I think will be useful to all of kpopblr as a whole!

I know that I have a hard time remembering tags, and while I've had my own little notes app of some tags to go off of, I am in a lot of fandoms and I miss things sometimes and I know this happens to my mutuals too! I've gotten asked a couple of times to give some tags to help a new creator out which is what sparked this idea of mine, and after sitting on my ass for 3 months I finally decided to make it!!!!

I think this resource can be super useful to all of kpopblr, as there are multiple fandoms as well as other useful tags included. I believe I have created a perfect system that not only outlines networks, sources, hourly blogs, as well as other tag blogs not kpop related that reblog and boost kpop content. I have also decided to include individual blog tags and label them accordingly and create warnings for certain tags, as I know some of y'alls tags are private and for mutuals only. I did my very best to be as thorough and sensitive with this doc as possible so we can have an effective yet simple resource.

The reason I am now making a post is because this doc will be added onto for months to come I'm sure, so I thought it be a good idea to circulate the doc to as many fandoms and creators as possible so we can continue to update the doc! It is an open doc where everyone can edit and I have added all rules and a more in depth synosis of the doc inside, so please take a peak at it and if you can, please add your tag and any network tags not already on there!

THIS IS FOR GIFS, GRAPHICS, GFX, ETC CREATORS ONLY, NO WRITING OR NSFW

I already have a bunch of mutuals working on the doc, but here it is for your viewing pleasure:

I kindly ask that everyone who sees this please boost this on all of your kpop blogs and spread it as much as possible! I feel like this is a very important resource that we can all utilize so the more creators who know, the better!

Tagging mutual blogs to spread the word:

@woosansang @jjongho @applejongho @seokmins @seokmingming @hwanswerland @woozi @woozification @awek-s @injunnies @djxiao @taetheists @freyarchive @97chwe @hwanwooyoung @jeonwonwoo @smingi @baekwin @smilesflower @charmerz @veriverys @kyubins @joshuas @myungho @wonwooridul @xuseokgyu @moriiyun @blueberrysan @caratonce @hansolz @junranghae @seungkwan-s @junmail @2h0gi @shuashong @sanhwaiting @yukuz @strhwaberries @song-mingi @hwichanis @98linerz @kangyeosaang @minzbins

networks: @nctinc @atzsource @woosaninc @kpopcontentcreatorsclub @kpopggs @kflops the only reason i tagged networks is because this is for their creators, they gain a lot from this doc seeing as it is mostly network tags!

[lonicera-edulis]

do u have any advice for someone downloading lotro for the first time??? u make it look so cool!!! 🌸

Well, I am not very sure I am playing right. I can't speak to people nor offline nor online somehow, so I am missing a lot.

• First, you will have to type password everytime you go to play.

• Then, choosing a server to play on. Each one has their own purpose, there are American and European, some are RP oriented, some are for raids, etc. Although I've heard people there are insufferable with particular rules. (I play on Landroval and I like it so far).

• There are lots of setup to prepare. For graphic options there are videos and articles.

In Options you will find UI settings, where you will be able to change size of various elements (map radar, quest tracker, etc.)

• For a good time I didn't know how to change size of a text in quest dialogue.

• You can look up how to set up chat as well, and text there can be colored for you to notice stuff easier.

• And once you set everything for your use, you can save it by typing /ui layout save [name] in chat. If you change something accidentely, you can make it look like before with /ui layout load [name] command.

• Then there are useful plugins to help with better game experience:

I have Deed Tracker, Emotes Helper (to have all emotes automatically in a separate window) and Lotropad (very useful for saving commands so you can just copy/paste them, other game details; and you can upload images (maps with specific locations for example, but I put funny backgrounds for my text xD)

I also have Opaque Quest Tracker and MoorMap.

And SongBook for those who want to be musicians. But I only play My Little Pony and TF2 Soldier Theme xD

• Another things I was unaware for a good time are cosmetic outfits (I don't remember why but I couldn't slot anything there so I assumed it's a pay-for-thing, there happened this funny screenshot though) and one bag instead of 3 separate ones (opening one bag is more comfortable for me, and to make one you just need to drag slots from other bags to the first one while in edit mode).

• There is also a Filter Panel, to filter out some loot, quests and sounds. For items you need to drag it into a panel (I put lootboxes there).

• There are things like LOTRO points you can get through doing deeds in game rather than transfering your money (I spent my first good bunch on making steeds faster for the whole account, but you can also save some for buying a game content expansion).

• Folks in chat also remind of codes sometimes that give you useful stuff (to redeem a code you will need to go to the LOTRO store).

• Yeah, since I am a f2p player, I have to write down destinations to navigate easier in Middle Earth. I am writting them down to not forget:

• Finally, there is also https://lotro-wiki.com/, quite useful. And if something is unclear for me, I go to search for answers in websearch or on YouTube.

• And, I see people do play the game differently, you can skip quests and do whatever, but I am personally here for going through LOTR story and watching the stories of LOTRO characters too (even if I am mostly interested in dwarves and hobbits, but oh well). There are also seasonal Festivals in game, they are fun! You will be able to get a good looking outfit and a beautiful steed.

I think I wrote down most of what brought confusion to me first time. For sure I forgot something important, but I hope you will be able to find answers. Good luck.