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#but also this reminds me I’ve been meaning to make a post about how they always have couples doing promos together like
housewifebuck · 11 months
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Torn between wanting Ryan and Oliver to do promo together, but also knowing that if we have that the accusations of queerbaiting will be up the roof 🫠
HUH
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physalian · 3 months
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How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3
Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.
Part 1
Part 2
1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)
Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.
There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.
My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.
She was standing /// She stood
He was running /// He ran
Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.
There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.
For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.
Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).
Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.
He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.
2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place
I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.
She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)
Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.
He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.
To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.
3. Lacking flow between sentences
Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.
Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.
From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.
Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.
This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.
4. Getting too specific with movement.
I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.
A ridiculous example:
Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.
Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:
Jack shoves on his running shoes.
*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.
This also happens with multiple movements in succession.
Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.
Or
Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.
Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.
Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.
If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.
These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!
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streetlamp-amber · 2 months
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never ending night
bruce wayne x femwife!reader
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word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!
CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.
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It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.
“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.
The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.
“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.
“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.
“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.
“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”
“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”
Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.
“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.
“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”
“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.
You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.
“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.
“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.
“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.
You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.
“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.
“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.
“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.
“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.
“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.
“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.
Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.
“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”
“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.
“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”
You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.
“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”
“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.
“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.
“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.
Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”
You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.
As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.
At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.
He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.
As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.
But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.
So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.
Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.
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ariel26c · 6 months
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🎀Things I’ve learned about Shifting 🎀
1. Background noise doesn’t matter. I come from a Hispanic family household and let me tell you hun it’s freaking loud as hell. It’s like a zoo lol but guess what? I still shifted. At some point you will start to feel your CR kinda “fade away”. I have been in this state where I am in between my CR and DR. I can hear background noise from my CR but I still feel like I’m in a different room or I hear sounds from my DR as well. Has anyone experienced this?? Let me know, I’m curious 🤨
2. Have patience. Allow yourself to relax and naturally connect to your DR. Don’t stress about having random thoughts or having an itch or things like that. Have patience with yourself like seriously you got this babe. Sometimes for me it’s feels like it’s takes 1 or 2 hours until I feel fully connected to my DR. (It’s different for everyone btw) you may take less time than I do. Those things don’t matter if you decide that those things don’t matter.
3. Methods really aren’t needed. If you think about it all methods consist of the same thing usually. It usually consists of affirmations, visualization, subliminal audios, meditation, counting, blah blah blah. If you want to use a method, then do that but don’t force yourself to do a method that doesn’t resonate with you. If you don’t like counting, then don’t count. If you don’t like visualizing, then don’t visualize. Change things up a bit and listen to music that reminds you of your DR or do something that you think is fun.
4. Just because some people like to lie about their shifting experiences doesn’t mean that shifting is fake. Just like in every community there is going to be people that are dishonest or don’t have the best intentions but that doesn’t mean that shifting is a big inside joke. Don’t allow these people to discourage you from shifting to your DR or make you doubt in its existence. Don’t depend on other people's content to feel motivated or believe in shifting. Just KNOW it’s real and motivate yourself to shift. (even though motivation isn’t needed to shift)
5. Shifting is Real. I think we all should know this by now, but I don’t think people really fully understand just how REAL shifting is. I mean you are going to be able to use all of your senses. You will be able to taste food, see your reflection in the mirror, talk to people that may be considered as fictional in this reality, etc. The process of shifting is safe but if you are shifting somewhere that has violence or gore make sure you script your own well-being. High pain tolerance, no trauma, etc.
6. Time isn't important. Just because it's been 4 years or 5 doesn't mean you can't do it. Time doesn't apply to shifting because time is just man-made thing. We created the concept of time not the Universe. Don't blame the Universe for your "Failure". (Spoiler alert: it's not failure) You just need to realize that no matter what, it will happen. It is completely inevitable. Some people have shifted after 5 years so don't give up! It will be worth it.
7. You can't fail at shifting. When you do your method, you will shift to your DR or shift to your CR. You shift all the time. We are constantly shifting consciously or unconsciously. Manifestation and shifting are very much closely related. (But that's another discussion for another time) Just like how we are manifesting on autopilot we are also shifting on autopilot. So, when you do a sleep method, and you wake up in this reality instead of your DR you still shifted. (Just not to your DR) (Get it?)
I hope you found this post helpful! :)
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sharlsworld · 6 months
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soft lauch? - 𝐜𝐬𝟓𝟓 ✽
✿ carlos sainz x influencer!reader (obvi)
✿ y/n and carlos try to soft launch their relationship but his millennial mind can’t comprehend the idea
✰ i got a little crazy at the end guys so i sincerely apologize for that also there’s a age gap…i’m sorry i’m obsessed with them sue me
🝮🝮🝮
definitelynotyn
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liked by joris__trouche and 113 others
definitelynotyn is it time to start soft launching?
carlossainz55 Mi corazón I need you to explain a soft launch to me again
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux everyone take a minute to pray for y/n
♥︎ by author
landonorris LONGGGGG over due
⤷ definitelynotyn we’ve just been waiting for the right time
francisca.cgomes soft launch us? fs
⤷ definitelynotyn let’s go over the captions
⤷ carlossainz55 Alrighty then!
⤷ pierregasly idc how many years go by i’ll never get used to this
⤷ definitelynotyn cry about it
⤷ pierregasly i will
charles_leclerc You would hope so after almost 4 years of dating
⤷ definitelynotyn it’s not our fault we can keep a secret sharl
⤷ charles_leclerc What’s that supposed to mean 🤨
lilymhe carlos sainz deserves to be locked up for going after my little kitten when she turned 18 😾
⤷ carlossainz55 Your just mad I got rizz
⤷ lilymhe obviously not that good if your girl is eating lunch with me rn
⤷ carlossainz55 @definitelynotyn Come home baby the kids miss you
⤷ definitelynotyn omw 😍
⤷ lilymhe damn…someone took my bitch
georgerussell63 Nah i’m waiting for the hard launch engagement post
⤷ carlossainz55 😏
alex_albon bros gonna catch a case 😭
⤷ danielricciardo He’s ready to risk it all
🝮
yn
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liked by carlossainz55 and 6,924,085 others
yn so baby girl coded 🎀
charles_leclerc My eyes 😓
⤷ yn oh please spare me the dramatics
landonorris you two make me sick 🤢
⤷ yn all i’m seeing is a bunch of hating jealous bitches 🤧🥱
hoeforsainzzz guys…that watch looks pretty familiar
f1wags 👀👀👀
smoothoperator55 yk…i’ve spent some time memorizing the arms and hands of the f1 drivers and let me tell you…that’s gotta be carlos sainz 👁️👁️
ynstan4lyfe some of you guys need to except the fact that carlos and her are just friends and nothing more
carlossainz55 Lucky guy
this comment has been deleted
operatorsainz ik ya’ll seen that 🫣
danielricciardo How many times must I remind you that children are on this app
⤷ yn it’s not my fault if they see it the age requirement is 13 🤓
🝮
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 4 years with you by my side ♥️
charles_leclerc Tell her to cut her claws it looks like you asked a bear to scratch your back
⤷ hoeforsainzzz HELLOOOO??????
carlossainzappendix HELLO THATS THE SAME PICTURE Y/N POSTED IN HER SOFT LAUNCH STHU
landonorris bless carlos and his millennial mind 😞
iliveforcarlossainz welp this definitely wasn’t on my 2024 bingo card
hearts4lando SHUT THE HELL UP 4 YEARS AND WE HAD NO CLUE?
flowersforyn sooo…we’re not gonna talk about the 8 year age gap?
⤷ alex_albon no his lawyers are on speed dial he was ready to risk it all
⤷ yn shut up albono
yn oh baby 😭
⤷ carlossainz55 Did I do it wrong?
⤷ yn yeah but it’s the thought that counts
maxverstappen1 Almost had it mate
alexandrasaintmleux whoever didn’t pray for y/n this is your fault
🝮
definitelynotyn
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liked by schecoperez and 98 others
definitelynotyn why is bro tryna rizz me up
francisca.cgomes HAHAHA HES SO OLD WHO TYPES WITH AUTO CAPS
⤷ carlossainz55 Mature adults
⤷ definitelynotyn excuse me?
⤷ carlossainz55 I can never win
⤷ lilymhe HAHAHA THATS WHAT YOU GET FOR MESSING UP HER SOFT LAUNCH
charles_leclerc He actually was sweating like a bitch when he realized he posted the same picture
lewishamilton Roscoe misses his godmother he’s in need for a visit
⤷ definitelynotyn stop i’m coming over tmr
oscarpiastri 29 year old spaniard seen running around paddock looking disheveled and almost in tears after the realization hit that he ruined his girlfriends soft launch
⤷ definitelynotyn thanks for the update osc
carlossainz55 Babe please i’m on my knees begging forgive me
⤷ landonorris stand up carlos
⤷ definitelynotyn don’t you have a race to lose or something?
⤷ landonorris maybe in a different lifetime…you aren’t my bully 😔
⤷ definitelynotyn oh go cry me a river
⤷ landonorris i will
alexandrasaintmleux i wish charles was this down bad for me
⤷ charles_leclerc Girl………..
⤷ yn is what you are? 🤣🤣🤣
⤷ charles_leclerc You are my biggest hater
⤷ definitelynotyn proudly
🝮
yn
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liked by haileybieber and 10,172,253 others
yn ruined my soft launch but it’s ok cause the D is fire 🔥 yeah, i said it.
carlossainz55 Mi corazón es tuyo ♥️
⤷ yn ♥️
charles_leclerc You guys should pay for my therapy since i’ve spent the last 4 years sleeping in the room next to yours
⤷ carlossainz55 Get ear plugs
ynlos ik those bitches are like bunnies 🫣
hoeforsainzzz y/n giving us a little snack 😩
ynstan4lyfe i would like to take back what i said on her soft launch
danielricciardo Your pr managers are quaking with rage right now I know it
⤷ yn i was gonna say something but then i chose peace 😇
⤷ georgerussell63 That’s a first
⤷ yn alright bro your entire existence is a meme calm down 🤣🤣
⤷ georgerussell63 I can always count on you to make me cry
🝮
carlossainz55
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liked by lissiemackintosh and 9,019,723 others
carlossainz55 Dibs
francisca.cgomes WOAH THERE BUDDY
arthur_leclerc that’s enough instagram for the day.
landonorris my poor eyes
yn best pillow 😇
⤷ carlossainz55 Just for you
ynissocutiepatootie her side profile 😍😍
ynsmywife carlos sainz can’t handle allat
carlando this altered my brain chemistry
carlitossainz brotha don’t know what to do with allat
charles_leclerc Every time I open this app man I can’t escape it 💔
⤷ yn is that a little bitch i hear?
⤷ charles_leclerc You wound me
maxverstappen1 Wasn’t prepared for that
carlossainz55 All you bitches can stay mad
🝮
yns.asskisser
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liked by oscarpiastri and 84 others
yns.asskisser Date night with the missus
yn WOOF WOOF MEOW 😍😘😋👅🤤 SMASH SMASH SMASH YOU CAN HAVE IT ANY DAY ANY WHERE ANY TIME
⤷ yns.asskisser I love u mami
yn do you want head?
⤷ yns.asskisser Always baby 😘
⤷ charles_leclerc JUST BECAUSE THIS IS A PRIVATE ACCOUNT DOESNT MEAN OTHER PEOPLE CANT SEE IT
landonorris aw you sick bastard
lilymhe what is it finna play…WOAHHHH
alexandrasaintmleux i miss the person i was 10 seconds ago
francisca.cgomes you and y/n put 50 shades of grey to SHAME
alex_albon so who’s coming to church with me and lily on sunday? 😇
⤷ pierregasly me and kika
⤷ charles_leclerc Me and alexandra
⤷ oscarpiastri me and lily
⤷ danielricciardo Me
⤷ schecoperez Me
⤷ maxverstappen1 Me
⤷ yukitsunoda0511 Me
⤷ lewishamilton Me and roscoe
⤷ georgerussell63 Me and carmen
⤷ landonorris me
⤷ joris__trouche me
⤷ lance_stroll me
⤷ logansargeant me
⤷ fernandoalo_oficial Me
⤷ yn ya’ll mad i’m getting my world rocked every night 🤪🤪
♥︎ by author
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osaemu · 7 months
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GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE
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✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW
contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.
author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍
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“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.
ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.
“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”
you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.
satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.
“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene. 
“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.
“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?
you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”
“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.
“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against. 
“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”
“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”
you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room. 
now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.
kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.
a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor. 
“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.
kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”
for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.
“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.
despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal? 
it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.
“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.
kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”
your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”
kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”
well, fuck.
“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”
“you too, detective. stay safe.”
“i’ll do my best.”
kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.
you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.
the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”
you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.
“what the fu—”
satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.
“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”
you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. 
“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.
true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?
“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.
“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.
satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”
you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”
“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second. 
“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”
“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.
“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.
“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”
“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.
satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”
you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”
“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”
your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”
“you wouldn’t dare.”
“wouldn’t i?”
you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”
“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”
satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”
he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.
“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”
“do i have a choice?”
“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket. 
seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.
and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.
“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”
you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.
but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.
“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”
“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips. 
“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”
he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.
“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.
“suck my dick.”
part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you. 
“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.
the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate. 
satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”
and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.
“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”
it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.
satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”
when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin. 
“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.
it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you. 
so, naturally, you stab him in the back.
not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat. 
satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?
at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.
“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”
“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.
satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”
and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.
what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.
but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”
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evanpeterswhoresblog · 8 months
Text
Innocence
Remus Lupin x f!reader
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warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), fingering, slight hand job, virgin reader, purity ring 😮‍💨, making out, underage smoking, mention of underage drinking, slight innocence/ corruption kink, lmk if i missed any!
summary: remus learns the ring you wear everyday is called a purity ring, and he develops a strange obsession with it… and wanting to take it off you…
word count: 4.6k
a/n: guys.. dw there’s gonna b a part two but like omgggggg this made me feel so many things i’m in love with this. lmk what you think :) also i’m not religious so if any of this is not accurate i’m sorry lol it’s for the plot
part two is posted!!! here
~~~
Ever since he knew you, Remus noticed that one thing you always wore. It was plain, a simple gold band on your left ring finger, the marriage finger. Typically, such nonsense wouldn’t cross his mind twice, but you wore that ring damn ring every day. Since the first time he ever saw you, that ring was on your finger. He never saw you without it. So, his curiosity got the better of him.
Why would such a simple ring be so important that you never took it off? It couldn’t have been because you were married. No. You wore it even at the young age of eleven. Could it have been a family heirloom? That idea was plausible, however to him, it didn’t feel like the correct answer. And Remus Lupin always needed the correct answer.
So, he eventually decided to ask you.
During dinner one night, when you just so happened to be sitting next to him, his eyes caught sight of the ring and he eyed it suspiciously. You noticed this.
“Something wrong Rem?” You asked.
He looked up from the ring on your delicate finger to meet your confused eyes. “Why do you always wear that specific ring? And always on that finger? Is it special?”
“Oh.” You laughed for a few seconds. “Yeah, it’s stupid really, an old muggle tradition.” You composed yourself and looked up at him, a slight red tint to your cheeks. “It’s called a purity ring. Basically, I wear it as a reminder that I pledged to wait till marriage.”
Remus was confused, and he hated being confused. “Why would anyone wait till marriage?”
You shrugged. “Muggle religion is quite weird. They value keeping teenagers pure until they’re married. I think it’s stupid, but I still wear it.”
“So, you’ve done it but continue wearing it as a... symbol?” He questioned.
“Oh no, I haven’t done it. I might find it stupid, but I still plan to keep my promise. It’s sort of a nice accomplishment don’t you think? I’ve gone through two years of everyone shagging around me and I haven’t given in,” you answered.
He stared at you for a few seconds. You were still a virgin, and that ring was the reason. He thought for a moment. How could you be a virgin? He swore he had seen you go off with a bloke from Ravenclaw a few months ago during a party. But then as his eyes trailed over your small figure, he realized the idea wasn’t completely impossible. He’d never seen you with hickeys, he’d never seen you dress improperly, and he surely had never seen you enter the common room after a long night with someone. For some reason, it made a strange feeling bloom deep inside him.
“Surely you’ve at least done other stuff, right?”
You simply shook your head and took a bite from your sandwich. “Furthest I’ve ever gone is having some Ravenclaws tongue down my throat.”
Ah, so he was right about that.
“Besides, I don’t really even know much about any of that stuff. I mean I know biology, but that’s about it. And of course, what Marls and Mary tell me from their extravagant experiences,” you added after swallowing.
So that meant...
“You haven’t done anything?” He was surprised, it was clear in his tone.
“No need to sound so flabbergasted. Besides, why do you even care about what I’ve done? I always thought you were the modest type too,” you replied with an eye roll.
Remus looked away from you, and the urge to smirk took him over. He thought back to those countless nights over the summer breaks he’d spent with muggle girls. The feelings, the sounds, the tastes, all experiences he’d never forget. But by no means was Remus Lupin a player, oh no. He was nothing like his mate. However, he also wasn’t a saint like everyone painted him out to be.
“I may be modest but that doesn’t mean I’m a virgin,” he said after a moment, his eyes finally turned back to you. He liked the way you looked at him. “That went away a few summers ago.”
You smiled, though something about it was off, almost as if it were forced. “Well, cheers to that.”
“Cheers.” He nodded in agreement.
You turned back to the group conversation before he could say anything else.
~~~
Remus had thought after finding out what the ring's importance was, he would let it go and move on. Unfortunately, he had thought wrong. Ever since that conversation with you, he couldn’t get any of it off his mind. When he’d see you, he’d always look at your left hand, almost making sure that ring was still there. It always was. And for some reason it made him feel almost relieved. He needed more answers.
Thankfully, another opportunity came not too long after the first.
The two of you had been paired together in potions. Typically, he would be a bit upset with the fact given you were never the best in the subject. But for the first time, he was pleased with the pairing.
He watched as you cut up some of the ingredients, that stupid ring shining from the lights. Questions filled his head. Where had you gotten it? When did you get it? Who gave it to you? Did your parents know what it meant? What were you supposed to do with it when the time finally came? He needed to get the answers.
“So, when did you get it?” He casually asked his eyes on the cauldron.
“Get what?”
“The ring.”
You chuckled. “You’re still on about that? I suppose you aren’t too accustomed to muggle things. I got it right before I came here actually. My parents wanted to give me a reminder about life at home, and they wanted to make sure I knew where my ‘loyalties’ lay. Though, I was only a little girl. Did they expect anything to happen at that young?”
Three questions were answered. Good.
Remus dropped his chopped ingredients into the cauldron. “Does that mean you give it back to them when you finally do it?”
“Oh no. I give it to my husband of course,” you replied. “Do these look alright?”
He finally turned his head in your direction and looked over your cutting board then he met your eyes. “Perfect. You can put them in.”
“You don’t know how good that makes me feel to hear. Master of potions Remus Lupin says I’m perfect, I could faint,” you said as you scrapped your work into the cauldron, a hint of laughter in your voice.
He rolled his eyes. “I said your cutting was perfect, but if it makes you feel good, I suppose you are too.”
You looked up at him with a glint in your eyes that made an odd feeling form in his chest. You looked so damn innocent. How had he not noticed it before? You had always been one of the shyer members of Gryffindor, but he always brushed it off as nothing important. He never would’ve guessed just how innocent you were.
“How sweet of you.” You giggled.
“ ’Course, anytime love.”
He noticed the shift in your body at his words. How odd. You looked away from him for a few seconds, that familiar rose tint returning to your cheeks. Did you always do that? Did such simple words always make you blush and turn away? Or was it just him? He watched you bite down on your lip and fiddle with your ring.
You were teasing him.
It was then he decided he was going to get that ring from you.
And you were going to love it.
~~~
Getting you to that point was going to take some time, Remus knew that. But it didn’t stop him. He started simply. When the two of you were hanging out in the group, he made sure to at least say a few words to you alone. When eating meals, he made sure to get a spot next to you. Most importantly though, he started making sure to leave subtle hints. Lingering eye contact, small touches that weren’t necessary, comments that made your face turn red. He could tell all of it made you flustered, and he loved it.
During all of it, his obsession with your innocence only grew. He wanted to take it away. He wanted to taint you, to make you not so pure anymore. He didn’t understand the feeling, he never cared much for such stereotypical nonsense. But each time you looked at him with those curious, innocent eyes, it only made his patience strained.
The first breakthrough came during one of Sirius and James’s parties. The common room blared with music, and people laughed and danced. You were among them. Remus leaned against the wall next to the staircase to the boy's dorm, a cigarette between his lips as he watched you dance with Mary and Lily. Your smile was bright, your body moved to the rhythm almost perfectly. You wore a pretty little dress. But he couldn’t focus on any of that because that damn ring caught his attention.
It had become quite a distraction. He found himself staring at it far more than normal. During class and dinner, it consumed most of his thoughts. He needed to get it off your finger before it caused his grades to slip.
From across the room, your eyes suddenly found his. You gave him a questioning look; he only smirked back and released a cloud of smoke into the air. He watched you say something to the girls before you began to walk in his direction. Perfect.
“Why do you always stand on the sidelines?” You asked once you were close enough. “And if you’re going to stare at me all night you might as well just dance with me.”
He chuckled and took another drag from the cigarette. “I’m not the biggest fan of these parties and I definitely don’t dance.” He offered you the cigarette, and you shook your head and pointed to your ring. “Come on, that applies to cigs too?”
“And alcohol, pretty much whatever is considered sinful. Though, I have indulged in a drink or two. Mommy and Daddy don’t need to know about that,” you answered.
Merlin, he needed to do something with you. It was almost unbearable.
“You’re saying alcohol and cigs are sinful but intense snogging isn’t? Seems a bit hypocritical to me,” he eventually said.
You smiled and shrugged. “That’s muggle religion for you. It’s pretty much up to each person's interpretation and what they value. I value being sober more than refraining from a snog occasionally.”
“But a shag...”
“That’s universally seen as a big sin. Most of us would agree not to do it until marriage.”
He released another breath of smoke. “Most of you?”
“Well, not everyone agrees of course. Like I said, it’s technically up to everyone’s values. Murder is also considered a sin, you know. But even some people commit that,” you explained. He watched you blush. “I don’t think I should compare virginity to murder though.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a fair comparison,” he replied, his lips turned up into a smile.
You turned even more red. “Sorry. But you get what I’m saying, right?”
“Everything is optional is what you’re saying.” He let his eyes trail over your body, making sure you noticed. “So really, you could fuck someone before marriage.”
���I mean yeah, I could, but I don’t think I will,” you said. You began to fiddle with the ring again. “It’s sort of always been with me it would feel weird giving it to someone else.”
“Do you have to give it away for anything? Or just actual sex?” It was another question he’d been dying to know. He watched you think for a moment.
“I think just the full thing. I don’t know. I don’t even really know that much about it like I said when you first asked me. I mean, I know people use their hands and mouths but... sorry. I shouldn't be talking about such things.” You put your face in your hands, Remus couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry.”
He needed to do something. Now.
“Don’t be sorry love, it’s alright. You know you can trust me; I wouldn’t dare tell anyone about your sinful thoughts,” he spoke. He turned and dropped his cigarette into one of the many ashtrays in the common room. When he looked back at you, you were already looking at him. “But you know if you ever wanted to indulge in something like that, you can come to me.”
You were beyond flustered, and it showed. “Oh! That’s very um... generous of you, but I don’t think I’ll do any of that I mean... I don’t plan on it.”
He casually shrugged. “We all get a bit curious at some point in our lives.”
For a moment the two of you only stared at each other. He could tell exactly what you were thinking. You were curious. You wanted to try things. He observed you carefully. He could sense the conflict within you. Value versus desire. It was a tough battle, but you didn’t cave. At least, not yet.
“Perhaps, but I made a promise and I need to stick to it,” you said. You looked over your shoulder at your clearly intoxicated friends. “I should get back to Lily and Mary.”
“Right, it was nice talking,” he replied with a smile.
You nodded. “I’ll see you later.”
“Till then love.”
Even as you walked away and joined your friends once again, he could see the way his words affected you. You could deny the feelings all you wanted, but your body craved the unknown. It was only a matter of time till you caved, and Remus would wait.
He was never one to give up easily.
~~~
You came to him faster than he expected. He understood why though, you were on edge about all of it. In the few days it took for you to go to him, he noticed how different you acted. You were more tense, you fiddled with your ring far more than normal. He imagined the inner conflict you faced was stressful, but he was glad about the turnout of it.
After dinner, as he was walking to the library for a study group, you found him. He was a bit surprised at your approach, but nevertheless, he welcomed it with joy.
“Hey Remus, could I talk to you for a second?” You asked.
You were a bit behind him, but he stopped instantly and turned to face you.
“Yeah, what’s going on?”
Your little bit of confidence quickly vanished. You avoided his gaze, focusing suddenly on your shoes. “Um, are you busy? It’s not really that important so if you have something else to do it can wait.”
He fought the urge to smirk. “I was just going to Lily’s little study group, but it can wait. Is something wrong?”
You shook your head and looked up at him, those big innocent eyes staring into his. “No uh... nothing's wrong. It’s just about... well... you know.”
“About what?”
“You know...”
“I don’t think I do love, you’re gonna have to use your words and tell me.”
He felt bad for teasing you, but it was too fun not to. The way your cute little eyes looked around the hallway to make sure no one else was around, the way you fidgeted, it was far too entertaining to stop. A moment passed before you finally spoke in a much softer tone than before.
“It’s about what we talked about at the party last weekend.”
“Oh?” He questioned. “What about it?”
He watched as you slid the ring up and down your finger. “You said um if I ever wanted to you know, indulge, that I could come to you.”
“Yes, I did say that.”
“So... um yeah,” you said. You looked almost uncomfortable. He knew he needed to be nicer.
“Are you asking if that offer is still there?”
You nodded eagerly. “Yes! I mean, um, is it?”
He glanced around to make sure nobody else was around before stepping closer to you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your mouth parted ever so slightly. He touched his fingers to your chin, lifting your head gently.
“How about you come find out?”
You didn’t fight it. He was glad.
Not too long after that, Remus found himself in a position he’d desperately wanted for almost a month. You were laid out on his bed, open like a flower, and he was on top of you. Your robe, shirt, and tie were thrown to the floor. He kissed you hard, the reward of your gasps kept him going. He let one of his hands travel up your soft thigh, you were so warm, so inviting. It took all his self-control to keep him from moving too fast.
Before it began, you told him you had only ever snogged. That meant no boy had ever touched you. Not with a hand, not with his tongue, nothing. No one had ever even felt up your breasts. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t pleased with the information. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to be as many of your firsts as he could be.
“Can I touch you?” He eventually whispered on your skin; his lips were by your ear.
“Yes, please,” you replied, your breath ragged.
He continued to press soft kisses to your neck as his hand moved between your thighs. You were wet, very wet. He could feel it through your panties. It made him even harder than he already was. He slid his hand under your panties and began to rub soft circles on your clit, you gasped and lifted your hips in response.
You were perfect.
With every flick of his fingers, you let out little whimpers and moans, and one of your hands gripped his shoulder hard. He caught a few glances of your face between kisses. Your cheeks were red, your eyes squeezed shut. You were beyond beautiful.
After a few minutes, he moved his fingers down to your entrance. He made sure to collect your wetness and ask if it was alright before he began to slowly push one of his fingers inside you.
“Remus,” you mumbled as he started thrusting his finger in and out of you at a slow pace. “Fuck.”
“Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?” He asked.
You lightly shook your head. “It feels so good, do not stop.”
“Do you want another one?”
“Yes.”
He complied instantly and added a second finger. You responded just the way he wanted. In only a few more minutes he was fucking you with his fingers, touching that spot inside that made your thighs clench around him. He kissed you hard, he loved how you struggled to kiss him back. When he also began to press his thumb to your clit, you became a mess.
“Fuck Rem, I-” You paused, your nails dug into his shoulder.
“You’re close.” It was a statement; he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. He knew you weren’t going to last much longer.
“I am,” you practically whimpered.
“Let go, love, it’s alright.”
Only seconds later you did. You came hard. Your back arched off the mattress, your mouth hung open wide, and your thighs tightened around his hips. Remus had never felt anything as good as the feeling of your walls pulsating around his fingers as you came undone beneath him. He made sure to keep going till you were fully done. At that point, he pulled his hand out of your panties and up to his lips. He knew you were going to taste good.
You sat up, breathless. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just- you just- we just... I’m going to hell.”
“Relax, it’ll be fine. People do this all the time and nothing bad happens, I promise it’s just a normal thing,” he said. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, he thought you looked so beautiful. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried about being judged or anything, I’m worried because I don’t feel guilty. I should feel guilty for it but I just... don’t. In fact, I think I...” You looked down at your hand, specifically the ring. “I think I want more.”
Remus couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips. “More?”
“Yeah, I mean it’s only right that I return the favor.” He watched your eyes move to his pants; your cheeks turned red. “You’ll have to show me how though.”
“Alright, only if, you’re sure. Don’t feel like you have to because I did something for you,” he replied though he really did want you to touch him. But he could wait if he had to.
“I want to.”
He didn’t question you further. Instead, he guided you through the process of getting him off with your hand. You were a fast learner, though the act itself wasn’t that hard to get the hang of. He found it funny the way you gasped at the size of him. Merlin, you were so innocent. Either way, you made him feel extraordinary. Your hand was much softer than his, and warmer too. You touched him gently, almost teasingly. But that changed fast.
“Can I try something else?” You asked, your hand stopped.
He almost groaned from the lack of motion. “What?”
“Um, can I try using my um...” You pointed to your lips.
“Your mouth?”
“Yeah.”
How could he ever refuse?
It was sloppy, it was rushed, but it was everything he could’ve wanted. As he laid back on the pillows, one of his hands moved through your soft hair. He didn’t dare push you. No. He only stroked your hair gently and whispered praises. He knew you liked it from the way you hummed on his cock each time he told you how good you were doing or how good you made him feel. And when you looked up at him with those eyes, those damn innocent eyes, he could barely contain himself.
He was shocked you even did it to begin with, but he was even more shocked when you let him finish in your mouth. You had him halfway down your throat when he came, and you didn’t pull away for a second. You swallowed it all. Somehow, he became even more attracted to you than he had been before.
“Was it good?” You questioned after you pulled back. You were kneeling beside his legs, a nervous expression on your face.
He smiled. “You were amazing. Are you sure you haven’t done that before?”
“Never even saw one in real life before this,” you replied with a laugh.
“That’s hard to believe,” he said. He sat up and pressed a kiss to your lips before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “Do you want to try one more thing?”
“Depends on what thing.”
“I’ll do what you just did to me but on you,” he answered, loving the way your eyes widened at his words. Despite everything that happened already, you were still so innocent. He adored it.
“Oh yeah okay,” you spoke after a moment.
He kissed you again. “Lay down.”
You did as he said and soon it began.
He started by kissing your lips while his hands pulled your skirt and panties off, leaving you only in a bra. Once those were off, he kissed down your neck, and your chest, only pausing for a second to unclip your bra and take one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned, he stayed there for a few extra seconds. He then moved his mouth further down your body, relishing the sounds you made each time his lips made contact with your skin.
When he started to kiss up one of your thighs, you twitched. You were so sensitive, so untouched. He was obsessed with it. Every few kisses he sucked your skin to leave dark purple hickeys. He had made sure not to leave any on your skin that would be visible to the world so that no one would see the evidence of your sinful acts. But the skin that would be covered by clothing, that was his to mark.
A few minutes of this went by, and it was all on purpose. Remus could tell how eager you were for him to get on with it, but you were far too shy to tell him to do so. So, he didn’t dare touch you where you so desperately wanted him to. He wanted to hear you ask. But you said nothing, so he decided you needed a little push. He gave you one single lick then returned to your black and blue thighs.
“Remus,” you whispered. “Please.”
He looked up at you and almost felt bad. Your desperate eyes were already looking at him, he could tell how much you needed it. He didn’t wait any longer and gave you what you needed; you certainly earned it.
In all his experience with sex and everything surrounding it, Remus enjoyed pleasing his partner as anyone did. He didn’t mind going down on women, in fact, he sort of enjoyed it. At least until you. With you, he quickly realized having his head between your thighs and his tongue on your clit was not just alright, it was heavenly. He never enjoyed the taste of a girl like he enjoyed yours. You were sweet and the sounds you made as he played with you were their own type of reward.
So, it was no surprise how quickly you came undone on his tongue. He devoured you like he had been starving his whole life. Truthfully, he felt as if he had. You were spectacular. You were perfection. You were his. He was crazy about you.
After you finished, he wiped his mouth on one of your thighs before moving to lie on the bed next to you. He laid on his side facing you, his eyes examining your face. Your eyes were closed, and your cheeks were pink. Your hair was messy, and your lips were ever so slightly lifted into a smile. He swore he never saw anyone as beautiful in his life.
“I feel stupid,” you mumbled.
“Why?”
You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile then undeniable. “I should’ve taken you up on your offer sooner. Now I understand why everyone’s so mad about this stuff, it’s unbelievable.”
“You don’t regret it then?” He asked.
“How could I? You’re just... Remus I...” You turned to your side to face him fully, one of your hands pressed against his chest. “I think we should do this again if you’d want to of course.”
He grinned and let a hand fall to your waist, he pulled you closer, so your bodies touched. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and you buried your face in his neck. For a moment he felt almost victorious, he had gotten you right where he wanted you to be. It would only be a matter of time before you let him take you fully. But then he realized, it wasn’t about taking your virginity so much anymore. He just wanted you.
“I wouldn’t want anything more,” he eventually said, then he pressed a kiss to your forehead, while the cold feeling of your ring on his chest lingered in the back of his mind.
Soon, it would be his. And so would you.
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microsofttothemax · 5 months
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the resentment leo would have with splinter post-krang. i genuinely think they would take a bit for them to recover and be comfortable around each other
why do i think that? here’s some reasons. this is gonna be a HELLA long analysis so be prepared. sit down, grab some popcorn, and let’s dive in
in the movie, after raph was taken, leo goes on a whole rant about how he got the key, he gets the answers, and he will get raph back. yes this is irrational and brash, but not in leo’s eyes. in his eyes, this is a foolproof plan that will work
splinter attempts to intervene, and tell him like it is. “it’s not your plan, you need to work with your team.” however, it comes out as a sharp sting to leo’s previous attitude
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“My son, listen to your team. This is not about you.”
it’s meant to be sensible and wise, but to leo, it’s a jab at him. it’s a stab at his cockiness and self-centered attitude, and it reminds leo of why they’re even in this position in the first place. which he hates
most of all, it’s splinter saying it. it’s his father telling him that it’s not about him. because to leo, he’s always been last place to splinter’s affection, and it’s like splinter’s confirming it here
don’t believe me? here:
splinter talks to leo, and it seems that for a minute, he listens to his father’s words. that maybe he should really stop and listen. maybe he should stop and think of a plan, listen to his brothers’ input.
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but the second splinter says it’s not about him? leo shuts down. he pulls away from splinter, and refuses to listen to him. and while splinter may be right, it was something leo never wanted to hear
it’s obvious that he has a somewhat testy relationship with his father, and splinter is trying to make up for it by giving leadership advice. but to leo? this is the guy who made him leader to seemingly mess with him, never bothered to give him attention or praise on his accomplishments, and never truly knew leo beyond his “acting as the best to save face” charade
which brings me to another reason. no, i do not think splinter was ever abusive or purposely neglectful to leo, or any of the boys for that matter. but its clear theres a bit of a rift between him and leo. i think that he kind of resents leo a bit (without meaning to) because he sees himself in him. he sees the irrational movie star who never thought ahead, and made too many mistakes to count
an example would be when leo got punched by lou jitsu two times. none of his brothers got punched, why just him? and sure it could be a running gag, but i find it also to be intentional
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maybe deep down, splinter still resents leo for being so much like his irrational, unreasonable younger self. that every time he sees leo, he sees his stupid past self, and without meaning to, he at times hates leo because of it. and if he doesn’t hate him, he seems to resent him to some extent
splinter also has plainly stated that donnie was the funniest one to him, (s1ep 1, mystic mayhem) and outright laughed when leo asked if he was the favorite son (rottmnt wake-up alarms on youtube, timestamp 1:59) leo also staight-up said that he was splinter’s least favorite (s1ep 4b, down with the sickness)
so yeah, i can see the resentment leo may have for his father deep down. it could be pretty apparent post-krang, hidden behind his jokes and teases
now don’t get me wrong, they have their moments of bonding, and i do love to read little drabbles and fics where they hug and heal. however… realistically speaking, it would take a while for them to get to that stage of father-son bonding post-krang. with splinter naming him leader out of the blue, to the missing lou jitsu posters on the walls of leo’s room in the movie — and we’re definitely talking about that in a later post, trust — i would bet their relationship as father-son pre and post-movie would be extremely rocky.
another reasoning for this could be that splinter often underestimates and undermines leo’s abilities and accomplishments. far as i’ve seen, the most reaction splinter’s given to leo’s accomplishments is an eyebrow raise
for example, when outsmarting big mama, leo was genuinely proud of spending time w his dad and showing him his abilities. he genuinely thought they were working together. however, splinter didn’t say he was proud or anything, just complained he wished he’d brought donnie (s2ep 2, many unhappy returns)
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“I knew I should have brought Purple.”
ouch. that mustve hurt a bit
and yes, i will admit, leo was being a bit of a little shit in this scene, and yes, he could’ve told splinter of the plan before starting to yap and blab to big mama about the plan he cooked up. however, the response splinter gives is not much better. essentially, he’s saying, “i don’t like this kid or his plan, so therefore i think i should’ve brought one of my favored children to solve the problem better.”
and before you go and tell me donnie could’ve outsmarted big mama the way leo did, think for a moment. leo fully admitted to manipulating and lying in an episode before
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“I don’t lie, I just… change the truth.”
whereas donnie cannot tell a lie to save his life. i love him, but the guy is a shit liar. he has failed multiple times at it
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“We are just typical normal humans.. who got lost in the middle of our normal… everyday human lives— nailed it.”
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“Uh… nothing. Just having a typical, normal, mystic-free day.” “What? I said mystic-free.”
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“Why aren’t you guys more upset?”
“Oh. This… hurts me. Uh… I’m very sad…?”
raph & mikey aren’t much better. mikey straight-up started sweating when he had to lie to splinter about piebald, and raph has so many different stinks/scents to him that it’d be easy for others to tell he was lying
also, mikey has doctor delicate touch. who does not know what lying or “don’t be blunt” means
and donnie’s really only being extremely straightforward with what he thinks or about what’s going on around him. so it makes no sense as to why splinter would want to bring donnie along to outsmart big mama, unless he genuinely doesn’t enjoy leo’s presence, which seems to be the case
now all of this is evidence to point towards a very unsteady father-son relationship with these two. yes, splinter seems to be a very lenient father, and i genuinely think he wants to be a good dad. however, oftentimes that leads to miscommunication and misread moments, empty promises, and overall neglecting behavior on his part, all without meaning to
so while he does try harder to be there for his sons later in the show, it’s pretty obvious that one brother — who thrived off any attention possible — probably stopped caring about that validation after all that he went through. splinter gives, but leo doesn’t take. he doesn’t bother to, because he thinks it’s either a prank of some kind, or because he just genuinely doesn’t care for his father’s input anymore.
(this was based on that one post about splinter & leo by @midwesternvibes, i just figure i revisit that bc i’m thinkin about it again)
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velvetsainz · 10 months
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summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] charles is away in baku and you remind him of what he's missing. part two.
word count: 1.3k
content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), pwp, use of explicit language, phone sex, masturbation, google-translated french (lmao), a dash of fluff, i like em dashes too much
a/n: baby's first smutlet! i've been writing for like twelve years but i've never posted to tumblr, so here's to first times! there'll def be at least a part ii to this, but i'm also hoping to write for other drivers soon(ish). also giant mega thank you to @multiseb21 + @lecrep for your support—y'all have been so incredibly sweet & i am so thankful for you!! anyways, i hope y'all like this! enjoy, loves! xx
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“Chérie,” his voice crooned over the line, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Don’t tease, mon ange—it’s already hard enough being away from you for so long.”
“Weren’t you the one who said he’d be fine just a month ago?,” you retorted, voice low.  The cards were in your hands now, and Charles was desperate.  He was a nomad lost in the desert and you were his oasis on the horizon, just the sound of your voice enough to slake his thirst.
“Yes, but then you sent me that picture and—” You hear him curse again under his breath, his fist acting as a poor substitute for the velvet heat of your walls. He swore he wasn’t going to let you leave that bed once he got his hands on you again.
Charles wasn’t entirely wrong: you were the biggest fucking tease known to mankind.  Earlier that evening you sent him a semi-absentminded photo of you fresh from the shower, steam still obscuring the best parts of the photo with a fresh white towel around your hips and one gathering your hair on top of your head.  He’d always had something about you fresh from the shower—every time he’d nearly pounce as soon as you’d pad back into the bedroom from the steamy confines of the bathroom, hair wrapped on top of your head just as it was now.  (Part of you thought it was something primal in him: you’d washed away his scent on your skin and he needed to make his territory known again, that horn dog.)  Still, he was ever the gentleman and would make the endeavor more than worth your while.
“Yeah, that was pretty bad of me, wasn’t it?,” you ceded with a knowing smirk on your lips as you sat back from your desk, closing your laptop slowly.  You’d wanted to get a little more work done after your shower, but the Monégasque wasn’t keen to let sleeping dogs lie and needed to hear your voice for himself.
“So bad, chérie,” he agreed with tone of exasperation, a heavy sigh passing through the phone, “And you’re not even here to help a–”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t help in other ways,” you were quick to remind him, the words coming from your mouth quicker than your shame would force you to bottle them up.  Heat was creeping to your cheeks, and you could feel the familiar coil of desire tightening deep in the pit of your belly.
“Are you—?”
“That’s why you called, isn’t it, baby?,” you asked only to get a stifled groan from the other side. “You wanted me to tell you how I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you continued, “how I miss your hands on my hips, your cock so deep—”
“Fucking hell,” Charles practically whines as you push yourself away from the desk now, allowing yourself to relax into the seat of the chair and your hips to ease apart despite every part of you wanting to grind them together to relieve the dull ache that rested between them.
“What would you do if I was there now, Cha?,” you asked softly, hand splayed out over the plush of your thigh, eyes glazing over as you pictured him there with you.  You wanted his hands everywhere; you couldn’t decide where you truly needed him most. Fingers curling against that hidden spot in your tight cunt, threaded through your hair and pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder, gripping your thighs so tight they’d leave bruises that he’d fuss over later—it all sounded like heaven compared to the lonely hell of your shared Monte Carlo flat.
“I want to taste you, mon cœur,” he replied shakily as his breath came faster, the sound of him fisting his cock becoming more and more prominent as time passed; he wasn’t going to last long like this, but you both already knew that—it wasn’t the point of this exercise.  “I’d have you coming on my tongue, let you taste yourself when I kiss you—putain,” the driver cursed once more as his brow furrowed.  He was leaking precum over his ironclad grip and all he wanted was to slide his fingers past your plump lips to feel the wet heat of your tongue take care of the mess.
You let out a tremulous breath over the line, one you hadn’t known you’d been holding onto so tightly until your head started swimming with need.  Your hand had drifted from its origin, rubbing lazy circles over the cotton of the panties you’d slipped into after the inciting picture.  On your top half was a worn, faded shirt of Charles that you’d taken a liking to as a nightshirt—especially when you were missing him as you were so desperately now.
“Need you in me,” you begged, the emptiness you felt so acutely coming to the forefront of your senses, “You always do such a good job filling me—my fingers don’t do you justice.”
You hear a groan on the other side of the line, the man now sitting on the edge of the bed as he tries to keep himself in check.  He wasn’t ready for this to be over so soon; you had him feeling like a teenager again, ready to spill at a moment’s notice. Granted, this wasn't anything new: there's something so intoxicating about you that destroyed whatever semblance of restraint, of control he had over his lust.
“Want you in my mouth, give me something better to do than tease you like this,” to which you received a choked merde, the man hanging on your every word as the hand between your legs abandoned its objective—you could take care of that later.  You were too caught in every little sound that passed his plush lips, listening for every little cue his body so willingly gave you.
“Want your hands in my hair, guiding me up and down your cock,” you keened for him on a whine, his breathing heavy and labored.  He was running at full speed to the cliff's edge, and you were there watching, waiting in the grass. “Want your cum on my tongue, baby,” you whined.
“Promise not to waste any, minette?,” he grunted, gritting his teeth as you hummed your assurances.  “Such a good girl f’me, yes–”
With a strained hiss and a groan he came sloppily over his hand, thankful enough that he wasn’t home in Monaco so he didn’t have to worry about cleaning up the mess he’d made. “Fuck,” he croaked, breathing heavy as he came down from the blinding high your words had catapulted him through.  It wasn’t like he hadn’t been taking care of business when duty called, but something about your voice, the thought of you there…it clutched everything into a higher gear.
“Better?,” you asked, sly smile audible to the Ferrari driver; he didn’t need to see you to know the shit-eating, satisfied smile that took over your lips.
With a tired laugh he nodded, slumping back onto the cool rumpled sheets of the hotel bed as he stared absently at the dark ceiling.  It was three in the morning in Baku, and he couldn’t sleep—the thoughts your cheeky picture had invited wouldn’t let him.
“Get some rest, tiger,” you teased him, knowing he’d have to be awake in a few short hours. You debated sending him another picture in the morning as motivation, tiding him over until you’d join him later that weekend.
“Que ferais-je sans toi, mon amour?,” he asked, sleep heavy in his voice as he rolled the right way onto the bed and running a hand through his hair.  He’d deal with the mess he’d made in the morning along with the flowers he’d send you—he really didn’t know what he’d do without you.
“I guess we’ll never know, hm?,” you replied gently, smile melting into something softer as you fiddled with the gleaming ring on your left hand.
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coco-loco-nut · 4 months
Text
loml
pairing: max verstappen x reader
summary: a journey through your relationship with max
a/n: so for a little background... my ex (he wasn't an F1 fan, it was never gonna work, let's be real) broke up with me the night before this album was released, so writing this series has been very healing; however, this one was extremely difficult to write bc it's the only song i can't analytically listen to and find the deeper meanings yet, especially after losing your first love. sorry for the rant and making this short🙃
tw: emotional abuse, manipulation
masterlist ttpd masterlist part two
________
You and Max were fan favorites, it was evident to anyone with eyes who had eyes. But they say you never know what happens behind closed doors.
“She’s the love of my life,” Max would always say about you, looking at you like you held the universe in the palm of your hand. His fans could recite your love story by heart from how much he loved to talk about you. It only made sense that he could shatter that public opinion.
“Y/n and I have divorced, I would like to ask for privacy as we navigate the changes,” Max posted one day, his socials wiped of everything. Your accounts remained the same, your last post being from the fateful race months ago. You haven’t posted since. The fans should’ve realized when the WAGs and George unfollowed Max.
Your apartment was full of things that reminded you of Max, every time you walked in it reminded you of every memory. He was embroidered in everything. You look at a printed photo of when you first met him. Despite it being six months later, you couldn’t get rid of him.
~~~
All it took was locking eyes with him across the pier for you to fall in love on that breezy summer day. He walked up to you and asked you to join him, and you did. You kissed him at the top of the ferris wheel later that night, and you didn’t even know he was famous all you knew was that he made you feel safe. The breeze reminded you of the warm ocean breeze from that day, one you called the winds of fate.
Despite being young, you married him after a year of being together. Things weren’t perfect even then, he could be incredibly mean, but he was also a standup guy when it mattered. That erased any wrongdoing of his.
“You have made me a better man, you reformed me, the love of my life,” Max had said that fall evening, repeating the one line that brought you back to him every time.
You believed his words, his lies spun to make you believe the hell you were living in was actually heaven. When he takes his anger out at you, doesn’t defend you against his father, you start to second guess him but he calls you those four words.
“I’ll never leave you, Schatje,” Max holds you in his arms, your back against his chest as you both look at a tv in the Paddock. The fans loved that photo, calling your love legendary. They didn’t know about the growing hole in your heart.
Your marriage was looking like one of those black and white movies you and Max watch on snowy winter afternoons. You and Max had been talking about starting a family, but you couldn’t get pregnant and you were watching everything you loved slip away.
“God, Max, you are like a con-man. I feel like I’ve been sold a get-love-quick scheme. What happened to you?” you ask, voice laced with hurt, during an argument about it. Max just ignored you, pushing past to stream with some friend. He ignored the sobs coming from your bedroom. He told the chat that you are the love of his life when asked about you.
“Y/n, we need to talk,” some of the WAGs pulled you aside during a race. They told you how Max was shit talking you to other drivers, saying you were a waste of a wife for your inability to get pregnant, saying he should’ve never married you, pointing out every flaw he told you was beautiful when he was lying to your face. You stand up and leave, not saying a word even when the girls try to stop you. Max is confused but simply responds to your text saying you were sick with an okay.
You are laying in your bed sobbing when Max gets back from the race. You face the terrace, where you and Max would dance under the stars. You can see the ghosts of it through your tears, and you wished you could un-recall when you thought you had everything.
“Please get out of bed,” Max says, his concerned tone laced with venom. Maybe the ghosts of your relationship are embarrassed by the scene on the other side of the glass.
“No,” you cry, mourning the loss of your counterfeit relationship.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Max sighs leaving the room. You sent a text to the WAG group chat who helped you remove all your belongings from Max’s apartment into George’s apartment that he wasn’t using at the moment.
Your phone is flooded with messages from Max, so you turn it off unless you are talking to your lawyer. Max finds a divorce petition and your apartment key on the dining room table when he comes home from training a few days later. The relationship that had such a valiant roar ended with the blandest goodbye.
You sit in George’s apartment with Carmen and Lily drinking wine. You took over George’s lease after they insisted that you did.
“For someone who claims to be a lion, he sure is a manipulative coward,” Carmen says as the three of you comb through the years of lies he spun.
You took the dreams that you thought you and Max wanted and lit the match to destroy them with your divorce papers. Despite your somber eyes, you seem more at peace, even with the sadness you will carry with you until you die.
“He’s the loss of my life.”
part two
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diazisms · 5 months
Text
hello i humbly offer another installment of my "this was supposed to be a text post but it spiraled into a short coda oneshot" series.
hen and eddie talk about buck's coming out. also today's wordle is not lover i wouldn't spoil it and lover has already been used as a wordle. it was for the themes.
“Did you know? About Buck, I mean? Did you suspect at all?”
Hen looks up at him and puts her phone down, he gets a wordle spoiler when he looks at her screen. Lover. Got it. 
“Him being queer?”
“I think he identifies as bisexual.”
“Okay,” Hen says, and Eddie watches her face flit through a complicated series of emotions before landing on something fond and knowing that makes heat crawl up his spine. “You wanna sit down?”
“This doesn’t feel like a sit down conversation, it’s not a big deal, I’m just asking if you knew—”
“Eddie,” she cuts him off. Her smile is kind and gentle and Eddie gets the quick building feeling he should’ve stayed in the bunk room. “Sit down.”
He sits. 
Hen pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tilts her head a little as she smiles at him. The head tilt reminds him of Buck because he finds little pieces of Buck everywhere. He’s in the song on the radio in Eddie’s truck on the way to work and he’s in Christopher’s English homework because the stories Buck used to tell him when he was little enough to ask for them influenced his creative writing. He’s in Eddie’s kitchen even when he isn’t because Buck got him a set of rainbow silicon spatulas because they were a buy one get one free deal. 
A copy of Buck’s loft keys on Eddie’s keychain, his name in the calendar that he wrote himself take out w/ buck ! no skipping in his messy, nearly illegible scrawl. 
But Eddie can read it because he doesn’t think there’s a universe out there where he doesn’t understand Buck down to the chicken scratch. 
“I didn’t know, not for sure. It wasn’t ever something I thought about at length, either. I’ve mentioned it to Karen once or twice and there have been times where she’d shoot me a smirk from across Bobby and Athena’s backyard at something Buck said, but it’s not something I’ve ever discussed. That doesn’t feel right.” 
“But you knew?” 
“I wasn’t surprised.”
He fidgets with a rubber band someone left on the table. He wants to ask more. Needs to know what made her realize it in Buck. If she sees the same in him. 
Eddie’s never really thought about it. Or, that’s not quite true. He knows, in a way. That something’s never been quite right. That he’s never felt for women what he’s been told he’s supposed to feel. 
Dating isn’t supposed to feel like a performance, he doesn’t think. Nobody else seems to think it is. 
He likes the sex for the most part. Figured that was enough to carry it. Sex feels good but then again he’s pretty sure sex always feels good when both people want it. It’s not like it’s some sort of burden to eat his girlfriends out but there’s something missing. He likes making them feel good but he doesn’t like how high pitched their moans are of the soft sighs that spill out of their mouths. There are soft tits where hard chests should be and it doesn’t. 
It doesn’t feel right. The sex is good, it's fine, he'll take it, but—
Love shouldn’t be just about sex. Eddie doesn’t want it to be. 
“Did you ever assume something about—” he cuts himself off but Hen sees right through him anyway. Maybe lesbians have some sort of psychic third eye that lets them see beyond the performative exterior he puts on. He tries not to squirm as she looks at him. 
“About you?” she asks, and the world doesn’t stop spinning or start spinning backwards or tilt on its axis. Eddie thinks it should. It’s the least the earth could do, honestly. 
He swallows. 
“Yeah.”
Hen hums and Eddie can tell she’s trying to gather her thoughts and form them into sentences that won’t send him running for the hills. Being—this doesn’t feel like something to run from, though. Not so much anymore. Maybe a few years ago, maybe when he first got to LA and his parents' words and their bitterness were still stuck to his skin. When he still felt like he wasn’t good enough. Not for his son, not for Shannon, not for himself. 
He feels good enough now. And he thinks he’d like to fall for someone the way Buck seems to be falling for Tommy. Except he’s really fucking scared the person he’s falling for is—
Well. 
Buck. 
It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and it doesn’t, not really, it’s the kind of thought that sits quietly in the back of your mind and waits for you to uncover it. 
Buck came out and it uncovered itself. 
Buck is bi. Buck dates men. 
Buck could date him. And he isn’t.
That’s the crux of it all. Eddie was drunk and Buck’s arm was around his shoulder and he felt lightheaded, couldn't stop smiling so hard his cheeks hurt the next day. Bubblier than the champagne. Floaty. It wasn’t even a new feeling, not with Buck. 
He makes him so fucking happy. 
Even through hell, Buck makes him happy. That’s love, probably. Definitely. Eddie tries not to think about it too hard otherwise he might have to go see Dr. Salazar again, and he really doesn’t feel like explaining this to the woman who diagnosed him with repression. 
Getting an I told you so from his sisters would be one thing. 
“Do you want me to be honest?”
“Yes,” he says, far too quick and clipped and awkward. He smiles tightly. 
“Yeah. I thought you were, actually. When you got to the station, you wouldn’t talk about Christopher’s other parent. Even in the beginning, you barely talking about him. I figured an army guy from Texas probably wasn’t used to being out. And then you weren’t gay, so I assumed you were just being a scorpio and not letting anyone in. But you let Buck in.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t—there’s no bet about it. About the two of you. I don't think anyone would be surprised, but no one talks about it. That’s not the kind of thing you gossip about. But, yeah. People were surprised when the mysterious partner you wouldn’t talk about was your wife, and not a husband.”
“Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”
“That’s not my place to tell you.”
“Hen. You’re my friend, and the only other queer person I know and trust enough to ask this to. I can’t exactly go ask him that question, and I don’t know who else to talk to. Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”
“Yes.”
Eddie’s exhale is shaky. 
“Yeah. Me, too.” 
805 notes · View notes
residentflamingo · 4 months
Text
Twice Members’ Favorite Places to Kiss You
Twice x fem! reader
Genre: fluff!!
Warnings: so sweet you’ll get a toothache <3
A/N: I have so many good drafts I want to share with you guys, but my motivation has been at 0% because school has been kicking me in the ass 💀✌️ But lately I have been getting a lot better, so more works are expected to come soon! Which also means I will be opening back up my requests box :D Someone did request me to write something a long time ago, and I’ve been steadily working on it over time. It’s got about 3,000 words on it, so as long as my lazy ass doesn’t put it off to writing it, that draft will be coming out soon as well. Thank you to all of you lovely people who have been patient, and also the ones that have been liking my posts. You guys are phenomenal and I love and appreciate all of you ❤️
Nayeon
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Lips ♡
A very standard one, but well suitable for her
She loves how soft and plump your lips are
Like Sana, Nayeon is a very affectionate person
So after she’s had a loooong day at the studio, all she wants to do is give you some repetitive and silly kisses that end up in slow and passionate ones
(Sometimes she’ll even bite your lip if she’s feeling a little bit frisky that night…)
“Oh my gosh I missed you so much Y/N. You won’t believe how many new dance routines they made us learn today.”
Her favorite kinds of kisses are good luck kisses and goodnight kisses <3
(And the passionate ones of course ;)
Nayeon loves how sweet it feels to be able to show her love through a kiss, and be able to feel your soft lips in the process
Kissing your lips make her feel grounded, and wanting nothing more than to spend every moment of every day with you
Jeongyeon
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Forehead ♡
Very domestic and homey feeling for her
Her kisses are always very sentimental and sweet
She doesn’t kiss as often as other people, which makes the wait worth it every time
“Here honey, you go lay down and rest. I can do the rest of the laundry for you.”
Always kisses you randomly and making sure it catches you off guard
She loves seeing you all flustered and shy <3
Kissing you on the forehead reminds her of being married to you someday, and just being able to protect you from harm
You are everything to her, and she never wants you to feel anything less than that
And if you’re shorter than her, then it’s an even better reason for her to kiss you on the forehead <3
Will also give you the biggest kiss when she comes home from work 🥺
“I missed you so much honey, what have you been up to?”
Momo
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Tummy ♡
When you had previously told her about being insecure about your tummy, you never thought she would take it so seriously
But oh boy how wrong you were
It instantly became Momo's favorite place to kiss you
Momo made sure to always remember it so she could prove your insecurities wrong
She loves how soft and chunky your tummy is, and just can't ever get enough of it
Also loves how much you giggle when she kisses you
If you ever have those days where you're not feeling too great, she will start giving you kisses there first and make sure you feel so loved and beautiful
“You are so beautiful Y/N. Don’t you ever forget it.”
“Your stretch marks are not ugly at all honey I promise. They make you look even more gorgeous.”
She will sometimes leave hickies and bite marks there too, but only when she’s in the mood and you give her permission
If you are also pregnant, she will not hesitate to smother your tummy in kisses then too <3
It would be almost impossible for her to keep her hands off of you
Her end goal is to always make you feel loved, and to remind you that you are the most beautiful woman she has ever set her eyes on
Sana
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Dimples ♡
We all know Sana is a very affectionate person. So choosing her favorite spot to kiss you would be impossible right?
Nope not at all for her.
The first thing that had drawn her to you was your radiant smile
But the deal breaker was the dimples that came along with it
She just couldn’t get enough of them
Once you guys had been dating for about 3-4 months, you both had gotten very comfortable with each other and started being all lovey dovey and such
That was when you noticed how much she loved to kiss your dimples
Any chance she could get, she made sure to kiss you in that same spot
It never failed to make you blush every time, and that’s part of the reason why she would constantly kiss you there
She also loves how well they compliment your face, and how adorable they make you look
“Y/N have I ever told you how much I love your dimples? They make you look so cute!” *pinches your cheeks*
Jihyo
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Cheeks ♡
She doesn’t mind kissing on the lips. She loves it actually, but she just enjoys kissing your cheeks even more
Jihyo’s kisses are the most genuine ones you will ever feel in your entire life
Sometimes it’s hard for her to say how much she loves you outloud, so she’ll express it through her kisses
When you’re having a bad day and come home tired, she’ll wrap her arms around you and give soft pecks on your cheeks
Or when Jihyo has to leave for early morning dance practice, she’ll slowly wake you up by peppering your face with kisses too
It’s just a super sweet gesture for her, and your puffy cheeks are too cute for her to not kiss anyways
She loves the way you blush when she randomly walks up to you and kisses you
Jihyo adores you so much, even if it’s hard for her to say outloud sometimes
When she does, she makes sure it meaningful, and at the perfect time
“I love you so much Y/N. Even if I don’t say it outloud that much, I really do. You’re my world, and I never want you to feel any lesser than that.”
Mina
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Nose ♡–-
When you confessed to her that you hated the shape/size of your nose, she made it one of her top priorities to make you feel less insecure about it
Her shy persona may keep her from expressing a lot of things, but it didn’t stop her from showing her affection for you
You were used to her always giving you warm hugs, and very soft kisses on the lips
But when she added your nose to the agenda, it was game over for you
She loves to kiss your nose when you look super cute, and she can’t handle it
Or when you’re doing something sweet for her like washing the dishes, or doing her laundry. She’ll always find a way to pay you back with affection
“Thank you so much baby. You’re so sweet.”
Over time your insecurities had slowly gone away after receiving so much love and support from her, making your nose the very very least of your worries
Having someone like her in your life made you realize that looks weren’t every thing, and that you never have to worry about when you’re with her
“Honey your nose is so cold. *kisses your nose* Here let me kiss it some more so it will feel warmer...”
Dahyun
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Hands/ fingers ♡
Dahyun is very loving and sweet
She loves to hold your hand when you two are walking around Seoul together, or just cuddling on the couch
She loves the intimacy it brings between you two
If she doesn't express her love with words at the moment, she will express it with actions
She'll bring your hand up to her lip and pepper your knuckles, fingers, and whatever else with kisses
Something else that she would never admit, is how she loves the softness of your hands
It reminds her of when she was little, and she would hold her mother’s hand
Dahyun wants you to feel loved and adored by her at all times, even if it’s not verbally
When you guys are at restaurants, she will have no shame holding your hand from across the table and kissing it
“Dahyun be careful. People might see us.”
She’ll just laugh and say, “Let them. Nothing will ever stop me from expressing my love for you darling.”
Chaeyoung
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Jawline/Neck ♡
We all know Chaeyoung is a big romantic
And can sometimes be a bit flirty with it too
So it’s no surprise that her favorite place to kiss you, would be the most intimate and steamy
Even though it is her favorite spot to kiss you, she doesn’t really kiss there very often
But when she does, she makes sure to go all out
She loves how intimate it is, and loves hearing/ seeing your reaction every time she kisses in that area
Most definitely will leave hickies too, so be aware when she starts going to town down there
“You like it when I kiss you like this baby?”
You can just already see her smirking while saying that…
She loves riling you up and making you melt from her touch <3
Tzuyu
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Ears ♡
Tzuyu is a one-of-a-kind woman, and the sweetest one you have ever met
When you guys first started dating you it stayed at the awkward stage for a little bit longer than most couples
But when she started warming up to you, her affection towards you became even greater
It started with little kisses on the nose, then on the cheek, lips, she eventually progressed to your ears
You thought it was weird at first, but you eventually grew to love it
Tzuyu loves to hug you from behind because of the height difference, and she’ll often whisper in your ear how much she loves you
Sometimes she’ll nibble a little bit too after kissing it, but not very often
If you have slightly larger size ears, she would tease you about it every now and then
But not enough to where you would feel insecure
She just thinks your ears are super cute, and make you even more loveable
"I love you so much Y/N... Don't ever change. You are perfect just the way you are."
404 notes · View notes
sebscore · 2 years
Note
Please write something with drivers praising female f1 driver during March because it’s womens history month. Anytime something bad happens to her on the grid she’s like someone hitting her car “how could they during womens history month 😞😧”
INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY
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pairings: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x driver!reader / sebastian vettel x driver!reader / small lando cameo
warnings: none?
author’s note: I know it’s not the entire month, but I saw lewis’ post for Stephanie and I couldn’t shake the thought of him making a special post for our gen z driver 🥺 I hope you like it, my darling!
masterlist
• • • • • • •
“Have you seen Daniel’s new post on Insta?” Her performance coach asked her, scrolling through his own phone while they took a break.
Y/N shook her head, not having been on the social media app that day. “No, why?”
“He talks about you.” He grinned, handing his phone over to her with the post ready on the screen.
Daniel had updated his Instagram with a clip of an interview he had done, where he’s asked about which women in his life inspire him.
He starts off by speaking about his grandmothers and their move from Italy to Australia. Daniel also mentions his mother and the support she has given him.
“From an athletic point of view, there’s 2 people that come to mind. My, uh, former colleague and friend, Y/N Y/L,” he laughed, “her entire story on how she came into Formula 1 is very inspiring and she has brought a lot of positive change into the sport,”
“But she’s also a great person and she always has something incredible to say,” Daniel teased his younger friend, “so, yeah, Y/N is definitely an inspiration to me.”
The woman had a soft smile on her face throughout watching the entire video, touched by Daniel’s words.
She gave her coach’s phone back and grabbed her own from her bag, deciding to leave a comment under Daniel’s post.
YourUsername I didn’t even have to force you to say this 😭 thank you, Dan! 💙
A mere hours later, she had seen multiple notifications of people tagging her in a post Lewis had made. She opened the app again and saw an entire post dedicated to her made by the World Champion himself.
lewishamilton Beside Stephanie, I also want to highlight the journey of @/yourusername. I’ve been privileged to watch her make history as the first female driver to stand on a F1 podium, to grab pole position and to win a Grand Prix. Y/N, thank you for all the work you do and continue to do. You use your platform well and I can’t thank you enough for standing by me in the causes that I feel passionate about. I’m excited to continue to follow your journey. Happy #InternationalWomensDay to you, thank you Y/N.
Y/N felt emotional reading Lewis’s message. She had idolized the driver ever since she was a little girl and to have him appreciate and acknowledge her hard work means the world to her.
YourUsername thank you so much, Lewis! 🖤 not you making me cry on international women’s day 😭 this should be illegal
— lewishamilton ❤️
The official F1 Instagram account had also made a post dedicated to the female driver which had been reposted by several drivers on their Instagram stories like George, Carlos, Valtteri, Esteban and even Lando.
The McLaren driver had called her “my goat 🐐” in his caption, something that had made her chuckle.
The best message she had gotten for the special day, came from none other than Sebastian Vettel.
It was a shock to her when the German send her a text message as she hadn’t heard from him in a while, she figured he wanted the time for himself and his loved ones.
SEB VETTEL
Happy International Women’s Day, Y/N! Congratulations on P2 in Bahrain, a great start to the season. I hope you’re doing well and that you had a good winter break!
Today I was reminded of the amazing journey you’ve had since your karting days. I am honored that I have been able to watch you grow as a woman from so close. I’m very proud of you and I’ll keep supporting you, even if I’m not there as much anymore.
I hope you have a great day and I wish you the very best!
Big kiss! X
She send him a message back, thanking him for his beautiful words and asking him how he’s been doing. They send a few texts back and forth, updating each other on their lives.
Y/N also decided to pay a tribute on social media, posting several pictures of herself with the caption:
YourUsername happy international women’s day to myself, cause I’m the best woman I know ❤️‍🔥
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nerdallwritey · 2 months
Text
Cheeks All Flushed (Part 1)
***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Unfortunately this chapter was longer than tumblr wanted, so I've split it into two posts. The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!
Summary: You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading. OR It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue.
Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (This particular part is 18.5k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 3 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Find the masterlist here.
a/n: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's read the first two parts!! It means so much to me that you guys are enjoying my writing and silliness. This chapter is much more slice-of-life than the last two parts, in that it's mostly fun at the Tiefling party with less smut. It's also the longest part so far! Apologies to those of you here for vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder of where Part 2 ended, you and Astarion just entered camp after dallying, even though Shadowheart told you not to. Rest in peace, you will be missed.
Taglist: @a66-1, @khaleesiofthewolves, @khywren, @lollipopsandlandmines,
@minestrones, @mizuki-nautilus
It was Wyll who spotted you first. He’d been wandering close to the treeline, gathering extra kindling for the fire, but something told you he’d also been keeping an eye out for you.
“You two are in heaps of trouble,” he muttered, ushering you behind Karlach’s currently vacant tent. “You’re lucky it was me who saw you first.”
“How is she?” you whispered, looking around to see if you could spot Shadowheart.
“I think seeing you might calm her down,” Wyll said, “but be prepared for an earful.”
“Oh please,” Astarion scoffed. “I’ve dealt with worse than an affronted cleric of Shar-'' He stepped out from behind Karlach’s tent and was met face to face with the cleric in question.  
“What was that?” Shadowheart’s hands were on her hips.
Astarion retreated, shielding half of his body behind you. “Hello, Shadowheart,” he waved his fingers delicately and smiled awkwardly. 
You leaned over to Wyll. “Save yourself,” you muttered. “We’ll be fine.”
Wyll gave you a sympathetic look and nodded. “Coming, Karlach!” he called, to which Karlach responded, “What?”
Shadowheart stood before you, looking frustrated and tapping her foot. You adjusted the pile of blankets in your arms. 
“Got the blankets,” you said sheepishly. Astarion raised his pile up a little higher in agreement.
“What was the one thing I said?” Shadowheart ignored the blankets.
You sighed. “‘Don’t dally.’”
“Mhm. And what did you do?”
“We-”
“Astarion?” Shadowheart turned to the vampire. 
He let out a reluctant whining sound. “We dallied.”
Shadowheart looked pleased by his admission. “Whose idea was it?”
You and Astarion shared a look. 
“Don’t tell me, I already know it was Astarion’s,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.
Astarion scoffed. “You don’t know that!”
Shadowheart raised a doubtful eyebrow and looked at you. You avoided her gaze. She looked back at Astarion. “Yes I do.” 
“Darling,” Astarion hissed at you.
“I didn’t say anything!” you hissed back.
Suddenly Shadowheart grabbed Astarion’s left ear and your right ear and pulled you both out from behind Karlach’s tent. You and Astarion protested as you went.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”
“Ah! Watch the hair, you heathen!”
Shadowheart flung her arms forward, releasing both of you and sending you stumbling forward towards the roaring fire. You caught yourselves before crashing into the flames. 
“You could have KILLED us just now!” Astarion exclaimed.
Shadowheart ignored him. “Look who’s finally back,” she addressed the rest of camp. 
Lae’zel scoffed, pausing the loud sharpening of her greatsword. “I must give you credit, Astarion, you last longer than I would have thought.”
Astarion straightened. “Thank you, I- hey.”
Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to her blade. 
“Sorry, everyone,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. “We lost track of time, that’s all.” You adjusted the blankets still in your arms.
“We have nothing to apologize for,” Astarion said, moving close to you and going to kiss your cheek, but thinking better of it when he saw steam pouring from Shadowheart’s ears. “Sorry,” he said to her softly. 
Shadowheart pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head disapprovingly. She clapped her hands together before she spoke. “Okay,” she said and turned to face you, “go wash those blankets and hang them to dry.” You nodded and she turned to Astarion. “Once you help carry those blankets to the lake, you are to help Lae’zel hunt for tonight’s dinner.”
Astarion made to argue. “But-”
“‘But’ nothing. I want the two of you as far away from each other as possible until everything is prepared for tonight’s festivities.”
“Here, here,” Gale agreed from over by the cookware. 
“Oof, tough break,” Karlach smirked. 
Astarion sniffed. “Just because some of us aren’t getting laid, doesn’t mean all of us should suffer the same fate.”
You hid your face in the laundry you were holding and groaned loudly. 
“Watch it, Fangs,” Karlach warned.
Shadowheart took you by the shoulders and turned you towards the lakeshore. “Go,” she said, a bit of a bite to the word. 
“Yes ma’am,” you sighed and started making your way to the waters gently lapping the sand by Withers. 
“You too, Astarion,” you heard Shadowheart behind you. 
“I’m going,” Astarion spat. His footsteps caught up with yours. 
You dropped the blankets by the waterline and grabbed the bucket and soap that you kept nearby for laundry duty, one of your commonly assigned chores. Astarion’s pile of blankets joined your own, then his arms came around your waist from behind, and his chin came to rest on your shoulder.
“Sorry, love,” he murmured, kissing your cheek. 
“At least we’re not dead,” you leaned into his caress. 
“You are so incredibly out in the open it’s unbelievable,” Shadowheart called from a few yards away. 
“GIVE US A MOMENT,” Astarion snapped back in her direction. He turned to look at you, his frustration turning into fondness. “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed the crown of your head just as Lae’zel began to complain. 
“Let’s go, vampire. Before someone else steals what is rightfully ours.”
“I’m not anyone’s!” you complained to the sky above you.
“Is it truly so hard to believe that she actually likes me?” Astarion asked as he made his way to his tent to prepare for the hunt.
“You are handsome but weak,” Lae’zel informed. “Far from the optimal pleasure partner.”
“I could make you eat those words,” Astarion teased.
“You would not last a single minute with me,” Lae’zel said and then returned to her own tent to prepare. 
You sighed, embarrassed but not surprised by the camp’s reaction to your delayed arrival with Astarion. There was no talking your way out of it, especially with Astarion’s line about getting laid. The bastard. He could be so annoying sometimes.
At least you didn’t have to dance around it. Even though less than twenty-four hours ago you would have insisted that there was nothing going on between you and the Astarion, now you smiled to yourself, happy that that was no longer the case. 
“Thou hast now a bosom companion-”
“MISTRESS OF REVEL,” you yelped, clutching a hand to your chest to slow the pounding of your heart. You exhaled and turned to see Withers looking more or less unbothered. “You scared me, Withers.”
“Take care that thou are not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.” 
You stared at him. “Gods, you sleep with a guy ONE time.”
Withers stared back.
“Okay, two times.”
The stare continued.
“Okay, so he made me cum, like, five times total, is that what you want to hear?”
Withers said nothing. 
You groaned and picked up a blanket, hiking your pants up your legs. “Whatever, stop looking at me.” You waded out into the water, blanket in one hand, soap and bucket in the other. 
“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”
“All becomes dust and bone,” you mocked quietly. “You’re a pretty morbid guy, you know that?”
You looked over at him and swore you could see a small smile before his expression faded into one of cool indifference as usual. 
~~~~~
It had taken nearly all afternoon to finish washing and hanging all the blankets to dry on  the makeshift clothesline you’d erected lining the water’s edge, but you’d done it. Shadowheart had been kind enough to cast Lesser Restoration on you to combat the fatigue of blood loss and to help fade the marks still leftover on your neck. As a result, all you’d suffered from washing was some mild back pain from constantly bending to dunk and soap the blankets and standing back up to hang them. Laundry out here wasn’t the easiest task, especially without the proper tools you’d usually find in the city, but you enjoyed the peace that came from the still waters of the lake. Today, you’d been extra thorough in your work and you were pretty sure the blankets were cleaner now than they had been when Astarion had nicked them from your companions in the first place. 
Speaking of your companions, Shadowheart was doing her best to keep Astarion away from you for as long as possible. When he’d come back from hunting with Lae’zel, she’d made him help Gale prepare the meat.
“Even though I can’t partake in the meal,” he’d protested, “I have to help prepare it? Really?”
“Ah, relax,” Gale smacked him a little too hard on the back, “you can drain it dry first. Much easier if you go to town on the creature rather than letting me exsanguinate it myself with a blade.”
“I’m not some personal predator,” Astarion crossed his arms. A beat. “But fine, I suppose I can help this one time.”
After he’d drained tonight’s meal, a large wild boar, Shadowheart had sent him and Wyll to scavenge for more wine at the Blighted Village. He’d complained about the long trek and the poor quality of the wine they’d probably find, but Wyll had been able to drag him off after a bit of flattery and the batting of eyes. The man was too easy sometimes. 
By then, the sun hung low in the sky and you’d asked Karlach to come stand by the blankets and act as a heater to speed up the drying process. 
“Do you miss him already?” she teased.
“Who?” you teased back, adjusting another blanket.
“Do you loooove him?”
You sputtered. “What?! No! I mean- I don’t know! This is new for me, and new for him and we’re figuring things out, we’ve barely talked about it and-”
She laughed at your word vomit. “Was it good?”
You paused. “Was what good?”
Karlach rolled her eyes. “You know what.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart begin to pound. “Can we not talk about this?”
Karlach groaned. “Come on Soldier, I’m so pent up it’s criminal! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”
“Karlach!” You whisper shouted. Luckily the others were too busy with their assigned preparation tasks to pay attention to the two of you huddled behind the damp blankets. 
She didn’t say anything, but raised her eyebrows at you to encourage you to talk.
You sighed and avoided eye contact. “It was really good,” you muttered, hoping she might not hear you.
A smug smile graced her lips. “I knew it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, wringing the water out of one of the blankets on the end of the clothesline. 
“He seems like the type who’d know his way around.”
“Yeah, well.”
“And how does he compare? Best you’ve ever had?”
“Um…” You pursed your lips.
“Wait, but you just said it was really good?”
“It was!”
“But-?”
“There is no but! He was really good!”
“You’re hiding something, Soldier, I can tell. He wasn’t the best you’ve ever had?”
“It’s just that… there haven’t been… others… to compare it to.”
Karlach stared at you. “WHAT?!” Her flames erupted to the point where you had to take a few steps back. 
“Shh! Quiet!” You listened for your other companions but heard nothing. 
“Don’t tell me Astarion was your first?!”
“And so what if he was!”
“The smug bastard,” Karlach muttered. Her face grew serious. “If he so much as looks at you wrong, tell me, and I’ll kill him.”
You laughed. “Shadowheart’s first in line to kill him, but don’t worry, I’ll have you waiting in the wings.”
“I’m serious. I’ll kill the pointy freak before he can hurt you, mark my words.”
You laughed again, moving closer to her now that her flames were calming. “Astarion and I are both adults. I’ll be fine.” Your voice went soft, “And I think he truly cares for me.”
Karlach huffed in disbelief. “Gross little vampire probably smelled your virgin blood and couldn’t keep away.” 
You narrowed your eyes at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. He likes me.”
“We all like you,” Karlach sighed. “You’re a lot of fun.”
“Thank you.”
“But none of us would want to see you get hurt by the leech.”
“You know, I think he’s more sensitive than you all realize.”
“Astarion.” It was more of a statement of disbelief than a question. She raised a skeptical eyebrow. 
“Yes.”
“Mr. ‘Tell Me How You’d Like to Die?’ Mr. ‘Describe How I Look in the Mirror and Tell Me I’m Beautiful?’ Mr. ‘I Have A Troubling Relationship with Power Over Others?’” She looked at you pointedly. “Mr.-”
“Alright,” you cut her off. 
“No wait, I've got another.” Karlach held up her finger like she was about to say something. “Nope. Lost it. Damn, it felt like a good one, too.”
“We all have our quirks,” you said, steering the conversion back on track. “Astarion, I think, has a few more than one might deem acceptable, but I trust him. He’s been true to his word about everything so far.” Your voice got small, “And I really like him.”
Karlach blew out a breath of resignation. “I know you do, Soldier.” Her hesitance turned into thoughtfulness. “And he did look pretty smitten when I found you both this morning.”
Your face went red at the memory. “Gods, that was so embarrassing. I still can’t believe we fell asleep out there.” Your brain took a second to process what she’d said. You turned to look at her, a small smile forming. “‘Smitten?’ Do you really think so?”
Karlach rolled her eyes affectionately. “Yes, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
Your small smile grew into a smirk of satisfaction. You grew giddy. “You should have heard him, Karlach! He was so sweet, and gentle, and he kept checking in with me, and didn’t make me feel awkward or bad, and his body, oh my GODS, his body! When I say he’s unfairly beautiful, it truly is unfair because, how in the Nine Hells do you get abs like that and-”
Karlach was watching you with a fond smile on her face. She grinned and lifted a hand to stop you. “Okay, okay, I believe you. He took care of you.”
You sighed happily. “He did.”
“I’m glad.” After a moment, she sighed dramatically. “Okay, so maybe he didn’t just fuck you in some sort of weird vampire power play because you’re a virgin.”
“Karlach!” You furrowed your brows. “Seriously?”
“Oh, sorry,” she amended, “you were a virgin.”
You scrunched your nose at her. “You’re so lucky you’re a walking inferno, otherwise I’d punch you so hard right now.”
“You don’t have the guts,” she teased. “You’re too soft, Soldier.”
“I am,” you sighed in agreement. 
The two of you stood in a pleasant silence while Karlach paced back and forth to dry the blankets evenly. 
“I’d hug you if I could, you know,” she said quietly. “I am happy for you. And if anyone is getting laid around here, I’m glad it’s you.”
“Thanks?” you laughed. 
“But if he gives you any trouble, you come find Mama K, yeah?”
You saluted her playfully and she mirrored you.
“Your guests dost approach from the east.”
“WITHERS,” you stomped your foot, pretending to be upset, but smiling over at him. “We need to put a bell on you to remind us that you’re still alive.”
“I am not still of this realm of existence,” Withers corrected.
“You know what she means, skelly boy,” Karlach grinned over at him and then at you. “Come on soldier, let’s go greet our adoring fans.”
Karlach led the way to the center of camp where sure enough, Halsin and the tieflings of the Emerald Grove were emerging through the brush. Halsin caught your eye and waved affably. You waved back, happy to see him looking so well after the rescue from the goblin camp. 
Behind him, he tugged a cart meant for an ox, filled to the brim with food and booze and the eight troublesome kids who’d been kind enough to show you their hideout hidden beneath the Grove. Mol hopped out first, followed by Arabella and Mattis and the others who looked around briefly before zeroing in on the abandoned little temple past the waterfall in the corner of camp. They made their way over to it and disappeared inside.
Noted. You’d have to check on them later.
Suddenly a flash of blue and pink was launching itself at you and you stumbled backwards as it wrapped you in a tight hug.
“Alfira!” you wheezed, returning her hug.
She pulled away, grinning. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day!” She was positively giddy and her mood was infectious. “I need to get some wine in me first, but we must play something together!”
Your smile faltered a little. “I’d love to, but my lute’s a little worse for wear.” You led her over to your tent and gathered a few pieces of the shattered instrument from your bag.
“Oh, you weren’t kidding.” Alfira took the pieces and examined them closely. 
Lakrissa found her way over to you. “Is this one causing trouble?” she asked, playfully slinging an arm around Alfira’s shoulders. “She was buzzing all afternoon about this shindig.”
“Hi Lakrissa,” you greeted happily. “No, I was actually just showing her the state of my lute.” You pulled a loose string out of your bag to emphasize your point. 
“I’ve seen this before,” Alfira took the string from you and inspected it along with the few shards of wood you’d already handed her. “The music overtook you during a particularly powerful song and your trusty instrument suffered the consequences. Did you bash it into a rock in a fit of musical liberation? Been there.”
You gritted your teeth sheepishly. “I wish it was in a fit of musical liberation. No, I kind of got backed into a corner protecting Astarion from a bugbear attack.”
“The mouthy one?” Lakrissa asked.
“You’ve met a mouthy bugbear?”
“No, Alfie, I mean their mouthy friend. The one with the hair?” She lifted her hand up to her own head to try and emphasize the height of his hair. 
“Oh yeah! Hard to keep track of you all,” Alfira shrugged.
You laughed, “Think about how we feel! There’s a billion of you!” You gestured around to the tieflings that were now acclimating to your spruced up camp.
Shadowheart had done a great job of tidying the clearing of fallen branches and mischievous weeds and had gone around making sure that everybody’s tents were in order. With the help of Lae’zel and Karlach, the three had managed to move a large log into the center of camp that was acting as a table that currently housed the booze your party had gathered, along with the food Gale had been preparing all afternoon. 
Gale, as soon as he’d declared the meal to be sufficient, had gone around hanging colorful banners throughout the camp with a few magic words and the snap of his fingers. You’d offered to help him in his effort but he politely declined, citing Shadowheart’s wrath. 
Now Halsin, Zevlor, and a few of the other adult tieflings were unloading the cattle cart and adding their hoard of food and drink to the table. Shadowheart and Gale were already filling goblets with wine and Lae’zel was chatting with (or maybe threatening) a tiefling that you recognized as one of the guards at the gate to the Grove. Karlach waved over at you from where she was talking with Dammon and you returned it happily.
You turned back to Alfira and Lakrissa. “Sorry Alfira, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to play with you tonight.”
“Nonsense!” She took you by the hand and led you and Lakrissa to the cattle cart. She pulled out two lutes and held one out to you. “One’s my teacher’s. I’ll play hers and you can borrow mine for tonight.”
You took the instrument she offered carefully, testing its weight in your hands. It was lovingly worn and smooth to the touch. You gave an experimental pluck at one of the strings. Perfectly in tune. You strummed a chord and minor illusioned Gale’s robes to go from deep purple to a loud, obnoxious orange. 
Gale paused in his pouring of wine as Shadowheart snorted. He looked down at his robes then looked over at you smirking at him. “Hey…” He scolded with no ice behind his words. He addressed Alfira and Lakrissa who were holding back giggles, “You realize you’ve just given her a literal instrument to channel the weave more potently, and now she can make tonight extremely irritating for us all?”
“You missed my illusions,” you teased, strumming again and returning his robes to their royal purple hue.
“On the contrary, we were only gifted about twelve blissful hours without you tormenting us with your tomfoolery.” 
You pouted at him teasingly. “How sad.” You poised your hands, ready to strum another chord. “I could make things so much worse,” you threatened, your voice lowered to a stupid octave.
“Behave,” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows at you, but you could see the amusement that played at her features.
“Fine,” you groaned and turned back to Alfira. “Thank you for this, I promise not to attack another bugbear with it for the sake of the mouthy one.”
A voice sounded from behind you. “The mouthy one?”
Astarion came to stand beside you, his hands clasped behind his back and skin speckled with blood spatter. For some reason, he absolutely stank. 
“Oh gods,” you said, scrunching your nose and turning away. “Did you and Wyll wander into a stinking cloud or something?”
“Hello, dearest,” he purred, pulling you to him and puckering his lips for a playful kiss, but you pushed his face away, avoiding his mouth at all costs.
“Get away from me, freak,” you laughed as he was able to plant a kiss on your cheek with a loud “MWAH.” He looked very pleased with himself. 
Alfira and Lakrissa, meanwhile, watched this display politely with their noses plugged.
Lakrissa gestured between the two of you. “When did this happen?” Her voice was nasally. 
“He’s always been a jackass,” you said.
“She means, love, when did you finally pluck up the courage to confess your undying love for me?” The flamboyant lilt in Astarion’s voice made you smile. 
“This just happened, actually,” you said, pointing from you to Astarion. “The stink is extra new.” 
“Do you like it, darling? A gift from one of the goblins at that Blighted Village. They weren’t pleased we came for their wine, stink bombs were thrown, blood was spilled, a tale as old as time.”
“Did you get to murder a bunch of goblins?” Despite the topic, you spoke to him as if he were a child. 
“I did,” he said, his voice gravelly, his face twisted in a wicked smirk. 
“Good for you. Now get the hells away from us.” You pointed in the direction of his tent. “I don’t know why you haven’t already scrubbed your skin raw to get rid of that smell. You hate things of a vile nature.” You adjusted your accent to sound like him as you said the last bit. “Though you do love gore.”
“I had to share this delightful experience with you first, my sweet. Obviously.”
“Obviously.” You gave him a teasingly sour expression and pushed him off in the direction of his tent. “Get fresh clothes and go jump in the lake or something! Then burn that armor!”
Astarion grabbed your arm and pulled you closer again, much to your dismay and protest. He brought his mouth to your ear. “Care to join me?”
You met his gaze, which flickered down to your lips for a moment, only for a roguish grin to spread across his face. You grew flustered and looked away.
“Maybe later.”
He chuckled, “Can’t wait.” Then he spun on his heel and headed off to his tent.
“Sorry about that,” you said, turning back to Alfira and Lakrissa, only to discover that they’d already walked away. You spotted them pouring themselves some wine a little ways off and sighed. 
“They left ages ago,” Astarion called over his shoulder.
“And you’re still here?” you called back, smiling. 
He laughed and you settled Alfira’s lute safely within your tent before you meandered your way over to Rolan and his siblings who were seated not far off. Rolan was bent over, his eyes closed in concentration. 
“Evening, folks,” you greeted and were met with joyful hellos from Lia and Cal.
“You’re just in time for Rolan’s extremely cool magic trick.” Lia teased.
“That is, if he’d hurry up and do it already,” Cal added.
“Patience,” Rolan said. “Have you no respect for showmanship?” He cracked his knuckles enthusiastically. 
Cal leaned forward and whispered loud enough for all of you to hear, “Having performance issues, Rolan?”
“Hush, you,” Rolan rolled his eyes.
“I, for one, love a good bout of showmanship,” you settled in next to Cal. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Rolan gestured to you, vindicated. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth as he looked at his siblings. He took a deep breath. “And…”
A burst of colorful light erupted from his hands as he lifted them into the air.
“...behold!” He exclaimed as the colors faded into tiny bursts of light, dissipating like fireworks.
You clapped excitedly. “Beautiful!”
Rolan looked over at you, clearly pleased. “Adoring applause? You’re too kind.” He bowed dramatically, making a show of his gratitude. 
Lia turned to Cal. “Remember when he could barely cast that?”
Cal nodded. “They grow up so fast.”
Something caught your attention from a ways off. Peeking out from behind the large cluster of rocks you found yourself facing was Silfy; the younger sister of Mattis, the tiefling child who tried to sell you a “lucky ring.” Astarion had halted your hand when you went to give him a coin, shaking his head and explaining that you were being scammed. 
Now, however, Silfy seemed alone. You remembered how upset she’d been when you caught her trying to rifle through your pockets. 
“Never have I met such troglodytes,” you heard Rolan laugh. “Now, pass the wine.”
“I have to take care of something,” you said as you stood up. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before the party’s over,” you smiled and waved, making your way over to Silfy’s hiding spot. 
You saw her see you and duck behind the rock. 
“Hello,” you coaxed gently, bending on your knee to level your height with hers. Silfy poked her head out but looked nervous. “It’s okay,” you encouraged. “You’re Silfy, right?”
She came out slowly and nodded. 
“That was a pretty cool show just now, huh?” You said, referencing Rolan’s trick which she’d no doubt seen. 
She nodded again and looked at her feet.
“What are you doing over here all alone?”
She sniffled. “Mattis was mean to me.”
You tilted your head. “What did he say?”
Silfy looked up at you. “He said Mol would never let me in her Guild in the city because I’m no good at pick-pocketing.” Her voice wobbled and you could tell she was trying not to cry.
You hid a smile. The things siblings fought about… And this particular fight was extra unusual. “Should we go talk to him?” you asked.
“Okay,” she said and watched as you stood. 
“Come on,” you said and took her hand.
Together, you and Silfy walked around the length of camp, passing people as you went. You tossed out polite greetings and a few kind words, but eventually made it to the waterfall and the slippery log that connected your camp to the little temple where you knew the other kids were hanging out. You held tight to Silfy as you crossed the log.
Mol stood by the entrance. “Silfy!” she exclaimed, clearly happy to see her. “There you are.”
Silfy let go of your hand and approached Mol. “Sorry I’m no good at pick-pocketing,” her voice barely audible above the roar of the waterfall a few feet away. 
“Is that what Mattis said that made you run away? Ah, don’t listen to him. You’ll get plenty of practice before we reach the Gate.” 
Silfy stood up a little straighter and looked pleased. 
Mol cocked her head towards the temple entrance. “Get in there,” she smiled.
Silfy smiled back and ran inside. Mol turned to face you. 
“Thanks for that,” she said. 
“Happy to help,” you said, attempting to subtly peer into the temple and see what the others were up to.
“You came through for us. That’s a change from most adults I know.” 
You shifted a little to try and get a better angle. It was too dark.
“What are you guys doing way over here?” you asked absently.
“Watching a bunch of old folks get dumber by the dram-full. And when they run dry… I’ve got a few bottles tucked away to keep things flowing.” She grinned at her own ingenuity. “For a price, of course,” she added. 
“Smart,” you nodded and crossed your arms. An idea had struck you earlier in the evening when you saw the kids slink over here. You readjusted your feet, trying to look like an authority figure but knowing Mol was probably immune to the act. “How would you guys like to get a little practice in, this evening?”
Mol looked at you curiously. “Practice what?”
“Scamming. Scheming. Stealing.”
“I’m listening.”
“One of the men I travel with, the one with the hair-”
“-long or floofy?”
“Floofy, for sure,” you answered almost immediately.
“Right. I know him.”
“Well he considers himself to be an expert at sleight of hand.”
Mol scoffed.
“I know,” you agreed. “I think you should all prove you’re better than him.”
“Easy,” Mol crossed her arms. “How?”
“Here’s my proposal: You each try to take something from his tent or off his person without getting caught. If you get caught, you’re out.”
“And if we don’t get caught?” 
“Depending on what it is you took, I might let you keep it.”
Mol scoffed again. “What’s the point of stealing off him if there’s a chance we won’t be able to keep our spoils?”
You pursed your lips in agreement. “Honestly, I really want to prank him and I think it would be hilarious if you guys took his stuff. He loves his stuff.”
“I do love a good con…” Mol pondered for a moment. “Alright, counteroffer.”
“Lay it on me.”
“Since you happened to catch me in a good mood; we do this for you and we have your sworn loyalty once we establish ourselves as the best Guild in the Gate.” She thought for another moment. “Also two hundred gold.”
You sucked in a breath. “You drive a hard bargain, Mol.” You held out your hand for her to shake. “But you’ve got a deal.”
“Hang on, you’re not gonna try to talk us out of it? Not gonna haggle?”
“I already tried to talk you out of it back at the Grove,” you shrugged. “But you’re all way too clever for your own good and I know there’s no changing your minds. Besides, it’ll be nice to have some friends waiting for us in the city.” You smiled at her, your hand still outstretched. 
She returned your smile and took your hand, shaking it firmly. “Deal.”
“A pleasure doing business with you,” you bowed dramatically and Mol snickered.
Mol made her way to the open door of the temple. She looked back at you. “I expect to see that two hundred gold before the night is through.”
“I’ll go get it right now,” you said pointing back towards camp.
Mol nodded, satisfied, then entered the temple. You heard her shout as you were leaving: “Alright, listen up! We’ve got a job.”
You smiled to yourself. You didn’t know what had come over you, and you knew that it was dangerous to be negotiating deals with con artists in the making, but you couldn’t help yourself. Especially after Astarion had crowded you in the aftermath of the stink bomb he’d been hit with. You loved watching him squirm and this was a great opportunity to do so. Mol and her gang of tiefling troublemakers were harmless as they were right now. They’d managed to take odds and ends from around the Grove, minus Arabella’s attempt to take the idol from the druids’ ritual. There was nothing currently at camp that couldn’t be replaced on the road. After all, you’d all crashed onto the same beach with nothing but the clothes on your backs. Well, except maybe the artifact Shadowheart concealed on her person, but you had just sicced the kids in the opposite direction towards the vampire. 
You made your way back into camp, stopping to chat with Zevlor and Halsin. 
“Gentlemen,” you acknowledged, trying not to seem guilty after conspiring with the leader of the child criminals a few yards away. “A pleasure to see you both.” You noticed Zevlor was enjoying a goblet of wine, but Halsin was not. “Not partaking in the revelry, Halsin?” 
He chuckled. “I assume you mean my lack of a goblet of wine or a cask of ale?”
You nodded.
“In truth, I rarely imbibe. The stuff goes right to my head. Before you know it, I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on.”
“Oh, ho, ho.” You and Zevlor made amused eye contact. “You sure you’re not a bard, archdruid?” You elbowed Halsin playfully and he chuckled again. 
“You’ve never heard me singing. Which makes you very fortunate.”
Zevlor laughed. “Yes, the singing we could probably do without. It feels so good to see these people smiling, let’s not ruin it. ”
“Then I shall not keep your ear any longer,” Halsin said, holding up his hands in playful surrender. He nodded to you. “There are many grateful people here who want to spend time with you. Go enjoy yourself. Seek out some wine before it runs dry; there are a lot of thirsty people around here.”
Zevlor raised his goblet to you. “Here, here.” You mimed raising your own cup to clink with his. You exchanged goodbyes and the men resumed whatever conversation they’d been having before you walked by. 
Your tent wasn’t far off and you knew you had plenty of gold in your bag to spare for your hired thieves. You exchanged a few more hellos before making it over to your tent. You lit a single candle to help you search your bag in the dim light of your tent and tried to not draw attention to yourself. You started digging through your bag for your coin pouch. 
Just as you’d counted out the last of the gold, you heard Astarion behind you. 
“Here’s my little treat,” he purred.
You stood up quickly, miscalculating where you were located in space and hitting your head against the top of your tent.
“Agh!” you yelped, turning around to face Astarion and ducking to properly exit. You looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t ask what you were up to.
He looked you up and down. “With their cheeks all flushed.” 
“Hi,” you said, not knowing how to respond. 
“Hello,” he smiled, drawing closer. “You’ll notice a distinct lack of blood stains and horrid stench to me.” He held out his arms and spun to show off his fresh, clean appearance. “It’s crazy what a little water and perfume can accomplish.”
“Well done,” you teased. “You’ve mastered basic hygiene.” 
He moved even closer. “Go on,” he said, leaning towards you, “give me a sniff.”
“And smell more rotten eggs? I’ll pass.”
“Come on,” he said, rolling his eyes.
You looked at him skeptically, then leaned in a little and inhaled. 
He smelled just as good as he had this morning, perhaps even better given that he’d just reapplied whatever it was he used to scent himself. You leaned in closer to his throat and inhaled again. It was a clean scent; one that was mature and distinctly male. It was delicious.
“What is that?” you asked, not pulling away.
Astarion chuckled lowly. “You like it?”
You finally pulled back and nodded. 
“Just a little scent profile I concocted to mask the unfortunate smell of death that comes from being, well, dead.”
“Do tell,” you probed, just as you noticed Mattis and Silfy sneaking around, a little ways off, clearly on their way to you and Astarion. You did your best to hide your stare, but Astarion noticed when your eyes shifted back a little too quickly and he looked behind himself. Mattis and Silfy quickly ducked behind a nearby tent. He turned back to face you.
“Thought I saw something. It was nothing.” It was a bad excuse, was what it was.
Astarion narrowed his eyes but continued, excited to talk about his scent mixture. “Mind you, my undead smell is very faint, but it’s nothing a little bergamot, rosemary, and a hit of aged brandy can’t hide. It’s the perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse.”
“Sounds like you missed your calling as a perfumer,” you said, genuinely interested in what he was saying but noticing Mattis and Silfy out of the corner of your eye. 
“I did, didn’t I?”
It was then that Mattis and Silfy approached you both.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Mattis said, the picture of innocence. “Silfy and I just wanted to thank you again for finding her earlier.”
Silfy nodded.
“Oh!” you said, doing your best to sound shocked. You bent to get on eye level with her again. “I’m glad you’re okay, Silfy.”
Silfy sniffled and threw her arms around your neck. “Oh, thank you, Miss Hero!”
“Aw, this is too much,” you said, rubbing her back and making eye contact with Mattis. “I’m always happy to help.”
Mattis came around behind you and hugged you as well. 
“Thank you for reuniting me with my baby sister.”
You felt his hand reach for your own and grab the pouch containing the two hundred gold for Mol. He concealed it expertly. 
Both he and Silfy pulled away from you at the same time. “Well, guess we better head back to the others. It was so nice meeting you.” Mattis turned to leave but Silfy lingered.
“Come find us in Baldur’s Gate!”
You smiled at her. “We definitely will,” you squeezed her hands before she shuffled off to join Mattis walking back towards the temple. 
You stood up, dusting off the front of your pants. 
Astarion looked at you with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.
You pointed with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction the kids were headed. “That was weird.”
“Why’d you give them a coin purse?”
You sputtered. “Why did I-? Whaaaaat? I didn’t-”
Astarion placed his hands on his hips. 
You sighed and looked at your feet. “Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this, but Silfy was upset because Mattis said she wasn’t good at pick-pocketing, so I went to the kids and said Silfy could practice on me.” You smiled lamely.
“So why did the brother pocket it?” He was onto you.
“I uh… think it was a round one type of thing. So next time it’ll just be Silfy.”
“Uh huh.” Astarion didn’t look convinced. “I’m going to assume you lost some sort of bet with Mol and her fleet of child criminals and that those two are the ones who came to collect.”
“Ah!” you exclaimed. “You caught me! I said I could beat Arabella in a staring contest and lost big time. Like, double or nothing lost.”
Astarion tsked and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You really must stop picking fights with children that you cannot win.”
“I can win,” you got defensive, even though you were lying through your teeth. 
Astarion tilted his head in disbelief. 
“I can!” You doubled down. 
“Mhm.” Astarion leaned forward and kissed you deeply, tilting you back a bit and bringing his hand to your cheek. 
He pulled away and you blinked back at him, dazed. 
“I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “You and your weird soft spot for those urchins.” He pretended to gag, as if admitting such things was making him sick.
“Aw, shucks.” 
He groaned. “I’m going to have to insist that you remove ‘aw shucks’ from your vocabulary immediately.” 
“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Your eyes went to his mouth.
He flashed his fangs. “Don’t tempt me, darling.” He bent forward to kiss your neck and you tilted your head to give him better access.
“Astarion,” you half protested, “people can see us.”
“Let them,” he hummed against your throat. He moved his mouth so it was beside your ear. “Come to my bed tonight.”
A pleasant chill ran through your body. “I’ve seen your bed,” you sighed, thinking of the wooden pallet in his tent that was often covered with jars of half-drunk animal blood. “Come to mine instead.” 
Astarion growled from the back of his throat and kissed your neck again. 
“Yo, Astarion!” Karlach’s voice called from the food table. 
He pulled back slowly and turned to her, his arms still resting around your waist. “I’m a smidge busy here, Karlach.”
Karlach held up her hands innocently. She made eye contact with you and winked. “I just wanted to know if you’d seen all the wine the tieflings brought.”
“Of course I’ve seen the wine, I procured half of- wait, the tieflings brought wine?” He immediately pulled away from you and marched over to the table, examining the copious bottles of liquor. “So I got a stink bomb thrown at me and it was for nothing?!”
Karlach sucked in a breath. “Seems like it. Sorry, mate.”
Astarion turned back to look at you, clearly distraught by this discovery. You withheld a laugh.
He turned back and picked up a bottle and goblet. “Well, we’ll see who’s the better sommelier: me or the half-fiends.”
Karlach turned quickly and whipped him with her tail.
“Hey!” He stumbled a little, but caught himself. 
“Whoops! Sorry, you can never trust us half-fiends.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Oh,” Astarion backtracked. “Apologies, Karlach. I didn’t mean that.”
“Mmm,” Karlach crossed her arms. Then she smiled. “Wanna get drunk?”
“Gods, yes,” he sighed and uncorked a bottle, grabbing two goblets. He turned back towards you, still standing at your tent. “Care to partake?”
You smiled and shook your head. “I’m going to continue with my rounds,” you said, pointing vaguely towards the party at large.
Astarion shrugged and turned back to Karlach.
“Your loss, Soldier!”
“Save me a glass of the best stuff,” you called before walking in the direction of Gale’s tent. 
“No promises,” Astarion sang as you rounded the corner and found Gale at his tent, a goblet of wine in his hand and a half eaten plate of food set off to the side. 
“And how’s my favorite wizard enjoying the evening’s festivities?” you asked upon arrival.
“Ah,” he smiled, “come to turn my robes yellow this time?”
You held up your hands. “No lute. Sorry about earlier.”
“All in good fun,” he reassured. “I did miss your tomfoolery.”
“I knew you did,” you elbowed him playfully and he laughed.
“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” He looked up at the stars. 
Your gaze followed his. “That it is.”
“Nothing like a brush with destruction to make one appreciate the majesty of the celestial canvas.”
“Yes, destruction by cleric would have been a tough way to go.”
“Indeed,” he chuckled and looked back up at the stars. “This is a view I once might have shared with my companion. Though definitely unaccompanied by such revelry.” He gestured over to Danis and Bex, drunkenly giggling with each other not far off. 
He turned back to you. “She preferred it when we were alone, curled up before a crackling hearth with some ancient, esoteric tome between us, ink glinting by the firelight…”
You smiled at the wistful look on his face. “I hope you’re referring to your cat and not Mystra.”
“By Ahghairon’s lost nose- no!” His voice cracked a little as he exclaimed. “Tara is not any cat. She’s a tressym. And given your confusion, I’m guessing you’ve never met one.”
“Guilty,” you said, smiling sheepishly.
“They’re brilliant creatures; fine company for any self-respecting wizard. She’d be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I’ve given her little to be proud of recently.” 
“Not true! Gale, you have so much to be proud of.” 
“You’re very kind,” he sighed. “She’s the one who discovered that the orb’s fury could be quelled with magically-infused items, you know.”
“You’re kidding! How’d she figure that out?”
“A lot of trial and error,” Gale laughed, holding a hand to his chest where the orb laid quiet for now. “I can still feel the phantom torment of her claws prodding me. Regardless, after so long being cared for by someone else, it feels good to repay the favor. Not directly to Tara, but these poor tieflings. I’m sure she would approve.”
You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I know she would.”
He smiled at you, then looked away. “So… you and Astarion.”
“Me and Astarion,” you bobbed back and forth on your feet.
“He has a certain charm about him, Astarion,” he nodded. “Then again, so does a tiger when it purrs.” He took a swig of his wine.
“Gale, if I did something that led you to think-”
“Nonsense,” he interrupted before you could finish the thought. “You did nothing of the sort. I think I’m just too deep in my cups.” He looked down into his goblet and sighed before looking back at you. “I’m glad you found each other. And better I have this revelation now than farther into our journey.”
“You’ll always be my favorite wizard,” you said, punching his bicep in playful camaraderie. “I hope this doesn’t change things between us. I value our friendship too much.”
He chuckled softly, his hand ghosting over where yours had just made contact. “This changes nothing.” A reassuring smile graced his features. 
Movement to your left on the beach caught your attention.
“Is that Wyll?” you asked.
Gale followed your eyes over to his right. “Ah, yes I believe he’s been pensively staring at the water for a majority of the evening.”
“And you didn’t check on him?”
“I did, but he insisted on being alone. Though I’m sure he would much rather welcome your company than that of a babbling wizard.” He nudged you with his elbow. “But after that, go indulge in the frivolities! They’re good for the heart. And mine will be lighter, to see you enjoying yourself.”
You surged forward and hugged him. He held you tightly while still clutching his goblet. When you pulled away you pointed at him. “You still need to teach me lanceboard.”
“And you need to stop enchanting the pieces to attack each other.”
“I will when it stops making you laugh.” You grinned at him, then waved and headed towards Wyll.
Just as Gale had said, Wyll was standing alone by the water’s edge, past the drying blankets that swayed subtly in the evening air. 
“Thought I smelled you over here,” you said, sliding down some rocks and making him noticeably flinch.
“Oh gods, do I still stink?” He raised his arm to his nose and inhaled deeply. “I fear I’ll never be fully rid of it.”
“I was teasing,” you came to stand beside him and looked at the lake. “Though, Astarion seems to have a promising career ahead of himself as a perfumer if you need his help.”
Wyll chuckled. “Good to know that your new beau smells as good as he looks.”
“Indeed he does,” you smiled at him and he smiled back. 
After a moment, Wyll sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.”
“It’s no party without the Blade of Frontiers.”
“Really? I’m honored.” He turned back to face the water. “In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood. And I didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night.”
“What? Why?” It concerned you deeply that one of your beloved companions was feeling down and you hadn’t even noticed. “What brought this on?”
“I’m a devil,” Wyll scowled. “I love the people from the Grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays. You don’t want a devil at your party.”
You were surprised he felt that way. Mizora had so kindly gifted him his devilish features not long after Karlach officially joined your team well over a tenday ago, and the people of the Grove had long since come to terms with the Blade’s new horns. He was still Wyll; kind, fiercely protective, and above all, a good man. Those who couldn’t see that were fools.
“Claws will pop the balloons, you see,” Wyll teased, trying to lift the mood. “And the sweetcakes don’t taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted forked tongue.” 
You smiled sadly. “You don’t unsettle me. Or any of us. You know that.”
Wyll laughed humorlessly. “If only half the world had half the heart you do.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “But off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”
“I suspect you’re the best dancer among us, Mr. Upper City. I’d love to dance with you sometime.”
Wyll laughed. “In truth, I always enjoyed a bit of pomp.”
“You seem like the type,” you laughed.
“I once beat the Baldurian record for the most sarabandes dances in a single evening. Much to the exhaustion of the good ladies and gentlemen of the Gate.” 
“I can see it now,” you said wistfully.
“I had years of lessons, but honestly, it’s all about your partner.” 
You took a step back and bowed dramatically. “Well I hope one of these evenings I might be a proper partner to stumble along with.”
Wyll smirked and bowed back to you. “One of these evenings,” he agreed. He inhaled deeply and turned back to the lake. “I just need some time alone beneath the stars, and I’ll be back to my old self. Promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, walking forward and hugging him. He returned it and you squeezed him tightly. 
“Okay,” he jokingly wheezed, “you have my word.”
“Good,” you pulled away. “You know where to find me,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the party. 
“I do,” Wyll nodded, looking at you fondly. 
You turned and called down the beach, “Keep an eye on him, Withers!”
Withers simply stared at you from his spot by the boats. 
You placed your hands on your hips. “One of these days I will crack him.”
Wyll laughed and waved you off. “Good luck with that.”
As you reemerged into the party, you saw Zaki run past you holding a tin of one of Astarion’s hair products. You snorted and looked around to make sure Astarion hadn’t seen. 
No, he and Karlach were still busy downing goblets of wine and comparing them to each other. 
“Bitter!” Astarion exclaimed, sticking out his tongue and pulling the goblet away from his mouth as if it had bitten him.
“Ah, you’ve got no taste, Astarion!” Karlach clapped him on the back. “This one’s better than the crap you served three cups ago.”
Astarion scoffed. “That was a classic vintage! Gods, it’s like you know nothing of fine wines.”
Karlach rolled her eyes. “Um, hello? Ten years in Avernus, mate. Didn’t get much drinking in while enslaved. Anything’s better than fire wine.”
“Tragic,” was all he said in response.
Suddenly Alfira was running over to you. “There you are!” The sweet scent of alcohol wafted off of her and she held a goblet in one hand and her teacher’s lute in the other. “Now, this might be the wine talking, but I’m feeling inspired. Thinking of writing my next song… about you.” 
“Me?” you asked, placing your hands on your chest and batting your eyes. “I’m flattered.”
Alfira nodded. “But I need an angle. Any ideas?”
You thought for a moment, then made your voice pompous. “Let it be only as truthful as true poetry would permit.”
Alfira grinned and matched your tone, “But of course.” Then she became serious, “You achieved something beyond mere fact by helping all of us. That deserves to be remembered.” She shut her eyes for a moment, regaining her thoughts. “Buuuut, like I said, I need more wine before I truly start waxing poetic. Shall we play a song together now?”
“Great idea,” you grinned and started making your way to your tent to retrieve her lute. 
As you passed by Astarion and Karlach, you watched Arabella reach into Astarion’s back pocket and come away with what looked like a few coins. She made eye contact with you and smirked before running off.
Karlach clearly saw this occur and held in a laugh. She looked past Astarion at you and you held a finger up to your mouth, signaling for her not to say anything. She snorted.
“What’s so funny?” Astarion asked.
“Nothing, you just look so stupid when you sniff wine like that.”
“I do not!” he protested. A beat. “Do I?”
You shook your head to yourself as you made it to your tent and grabbed the lute, walking with Alfira to the center of camp by the fire. 
“What shall we play?” she asked. 
“How about a classic?” you suggested, strumming the opening chords to “Bard Dance.”
Alfira grinned and nodded, immediately picking up the harmonies to the song while you took the melody. A sudden whistling caught your ear and you turned to see Volo performing the song with just as much gusto as the two of you. Had he been here the whole time?
Around you, the tieflings and your companions gathered around to hear you both play. They were stiff at first, merely listening and swaying to the familiar tune they’d no doubt heard many times. It wasn’t long before Danis bowed to Bex, who curtsied back, and the two began dancing merrily around the clearing. 
With the ice broken, others coupled off to dance together, and others formed groups of three or four. 
Shadowheart clapped along to the beat as Gale approached her and twirled her around happily. Karlach joined the fray, swinging her hips and waving her arms, but was careful not to hit anyone by mistake. Even Halsin joined in on the fun, awkwardly marching back and forth to the beat and encouraging shy tieflings to join him. Lae’zel and Astarion remained on the edge of the crowd, but you could see Lae’zel tapping her foot to the beat despite her best efforts to remain unaffected by the merriment. 
As your fingers danced over the strings, you sent off a few minor illusions of fireworks to add some dazzle to the performance. Alfira added her own dancing lights to swirl around the audience.
You made eye contact with Astarion who was smirking at you. He made to raise his goblet to you in a toast, but his hand was empty. He looked around himself to see if he’d misplaced it, but movement farther back in camp let you know that it was Meli who had absconded with the cup. You smiled widely at Astarion and shrugged. He shrugged back, smiling and reaching for a new cup. 
As the jovial song came to an end, the audience clapped and a few members approached you and Alfira, thanking you for the music and placing a few coins in your palms. 
“Marvelous!”
“Such fun!”
“Alfira, you simply must play for us on our journey to the Gate!”
“No praise for the wizard, Volo?” Volo complained to an unhearing crowd. He humphed and returned to scribbling in a notebook closeby.
You and Alfira thanked everyone before you handed Alfira her lute back.
“Thank you for this,” you said. “I’d love to play again with you some time.”
Alfira took the instrument from you and nodded. “Oh, yes please!” She looked at her lute for a moment, then held it back out to you. “You should keep this one.” 
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” you shook your head. “You’ve clearly had it for a long time. It must hold sentimental value to you. I don’t want you to part with it, I’ll have a new lute in no time.”
“Please,” Alfira insisted, still holding it out. “You play so beautifully.”
“Don’t go inflating her ego now,” Astarion said as he approached carrying two goblets of wine. “She’s annoying enough as it is.” 
Behind him you saw Mirkon run by with a set of thieves' tools.
Astarion handed you one of the goblets of wine and smiled at you. “Hello, my sweet.”
“Hi,” you said shyly, still not used to his full attention but enjoying it nonetheless.
“Oh, stop teasing her,” Alfira said, rolling her eyes. “Tell her how well she did and make her take my lute.” She held it out again.
“While yes, she did play wonderfully-”
You looked at Astarion, a little shocked. You weren’t sure he’d ever complimented your music before.
“-she won’t be needing the lute.”
“See,” you said to Alfira before pausing for a moment and turning back to Astarion. “I won’t?”
He shook his head at you. “It’s taken care of already,” he said to Alfira. 
She understood what he was saying and nodded. “How very kind of you,” she said, smiling. She reached forward and squeezed your hand. “I’ll make sure to see you again before we leave.” 
You nodded and smiled as she left to rejoin Lakrissa at the wine table.
You turned to Astarion who looked smug. He turned to face you and grinned.
“What was that?” you asked.
“What was what, darling?”
“With Alfira. ‘It’s taken care of already.’ Did you steal me a lute or something?”
Astarion brought his goblet to his lips, ignoring you.
You gasped, your mouth open in faux horror. “You did not.”
“And if I did?”
“Where?”
He groaned. “Enough questions. Come enjoy a drink with me.”
He took your hand and led you over to his tent. When you arrived, he dropped your hand and held up his cup for you to clink with his. He took a sip. 
“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero.”
You snorted. “Bold of you to assume that’s what you are.”
He rolled his eyes and continued. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…”
He held you in suspense as he took another drink of his wine. 
When he pulled the cup away, he scowled. “I hate it. This is awful.” 
“Aw,” you said, walking forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling back a little. “Is this okay?” you asked softly.
He nodded.
You continued. “It’s not that bad. Think of all the goblins you killed.”
“True,” he agreed. “That was fun. Still, I would have liked more than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.” 
You raised your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who curated the wine?”
“Yes, but it’s not like I had much variety to choose from. Plus the tieflings didn’t bring anything to write home about.” He cocked his hip to the side, then nodded to you. “Go ahead, give it a taste.”
You stepped back and swirled the wine in the goblet that Astarion had provided for you. You took a tentative sip of the heavy, rich red. It was dry and sharp. To be honest, it tasted like most other reds you’d had before.
Astarion leaned forward a bit to gauge your reaction. “See what I mean? Awful.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “Why didn’t you pick a better one, then?”
“Darling, this is the best they had.” 
“How sad,” you sighed, clearly not as upset as he hoped you’d be.
He held up a hand and turned away from you. “None of you have any taste.” 
“I’m sorry, my love,” you brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll have to share once you find something you actually like. That way I’ll know what to look for.”
He sighed heavily. “What would be the point? You probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”
“Rude,” you scoffed, “but fair.” You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?”
Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.”
You snorted. “How’d that go?”
“Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.”
You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?”
Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”
You looked over to Karlach who was still dancing despite the fact that you and Alfira had finished your performance several minutes ago. She was trying to get Dammon and Zevlor to join her but both looked like they were searching for escape routes. 
You laughed. “Shame there’s no music to accompany her,” you said, half joking.
“An excellent point, my dear.” He turned to bend down, wobbling, but catching himself. He started rifling through his possessions. “Odd,” he mumbled, “I swore it was here.”
“What are you looking for?” you asked.
“Hmm?” He was clearly lost in thought. “Oh nothing, darling. But, um, do me a favor and go somewhere else for a minute.” He waved you away without looking at you.
You smirked. “Okay,” you said, pretty sure he was looking for the lute he’d snatched for you. As you were about to step away, you paused, remembering the gang of young thieves actively stealing from Astarion. “I-” you shook your head. “Nevermind, keep looking.”
“I will, now go away.” He got up to look behind his tent. 
You held in a laugh and made your way over to Shadowheart, who you just witnessed pour herself a fresh glass of wine. 
“Hello,” you said, joining her at the refreshments table and popping a grape into your mouth. The crisp snap of the grape reminded you how hungry you were and you began to fill a plate with food. 
“Hungry?” Shadowheart laughed.
“I haven’t eaten all day,” you said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I missed bread and cheese this afternoon.”
“Uh huh,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “And whose fault was that?”
You slowed your chewing and slouched. “Mine.”
“Uh huh,” she took a swig of wine and smiled at you. “I think it’s safe to say you learned your lesson.”
You nodded as you took a large bite off a bread roll. 
Shadowheart took a step back to rest against the table. She surveyed the party at large. 
“Everyone seems to be in high spirits.”
You swallowed heavily and willed yourself not to choke, clearing your throat instead. “You put together a great party, Shadowheart.”
“I know,” she smiled. She shimmied closer to you and nodded over to Astarion’s tent where the man was still searching around, looking deeply confused. “I saw you and Astarion have been reunited.”
You lifted your gaze to Astarion’s tent, your expression melting into one of pure adoration. He was such an idiot. Even though you knew you were the cause of his ignorance. You shook your head, snapping out of it.
“Sorry again.”
Shadowheart blew out a puff of air. “Far be it from me to keep you two apart any longer. Besides,” she nudged you playfully, “blood must still be running hot. After everything.”
This time you did choke. Shadowheart’s eyes widened and she smacked you on the back.
“I’m fine!” you insisted. You cleared your throat and took a sip of wine. 
Shadowheart laughed. “It’s fun getting you flustered.”
“I’m sure Astarion would say the same,” you agreed.
She sighed happily next to you and returned to looking into the party.
“You know who I never thought I’d find myself caring for?”
You stuffed your mouth with a hunk of cheese on a cracker to the point where you could barely get out the word, “Me?”
Shadowheart looked at you and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, desperate people… like these refugees. Never gave them much of a thought. Certainly not this bunch from the Grove. Yet we came through for them. We saved their lives. Odd.”
You nudged her with your shoulder. “I hate to say it Shadowheart, but you’re a good person. Though given your sentimentality, it sounds like the wine is talking,” you teased.
“It’s not talking enough for my liking.” She turned and grabbed the bottle you’d seen her pouring from moments ago. “Share a bottle with me?” 
You looked at her skeptically. “Just a bottle? You’re not trying to poison me for disobeying you earlier, are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Just a bottle of poison free wine. You’ve suffered enough. Besides, I think you have other plans afterwards. Wouldn’t want to keep you.” She kicked her foot out towards Astarion’s tent which was now vacant, minus Doni slinking away with a hairbrush.
Before you could give her an answer, she was filling your goblet to the brim, despite the fact that you hadn’t finished the wine that was already there. She poured the rest into her own goblet, shaking the bottle to get out the last few drops.
“There,” she said. “Liquid courage.”
She tapped the brim of her goblet against yours and took a long sip. You joined her. Mixing the two wines hadn’t been a bad idea after all. There was a pleasant fruity aftertaste that you enjoyed. You went back in for another sip. 
She watched you as you drank. “Do try to get some rest tonight if you can. Tomorrow’s another day.”
“Yes, mom.”
She smacked your arm. “How dare you! I’m nobody’s mother.” She took another swig of her wine just as Lae’zel approached with her greatsword. 
“Are you aware that the child thieves are taking our belongings from camp?”
Shadowheart choked a little. “Excuse me?” She patted herself down and was relieved when her hand made contact with the artifact still on her person. She didn’t dare pull it out in front of everyone and instead looked at you.
“Oh, that,” you said smiling. “I told them they could.”
“And why would you tell them that?” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. 
“Don’t worry,” you sat up straighter. “I told them they could only take from Astarion.”
Shadowheart snorted. “What?”
“Yeah, I thought it would be funny if the rogue got robbed by a bunch of kids.”
“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “He is failing miserably at what he claims to be very good at.” She eased her stance and loosened her grip on her greatsword.
You laughed. “I think it’s partially Karlach’s fault. She suggested they both get drunk.”
“That’ll do it,” Shadowheart nodded, taking another sip of wine. 
“Hang on, Lae’zel, were you planning on attacking the kids?” You pointed at her sword.
Lae’zel eyed the weapon, then looked at you. “All children should know how to defend themselves from enemy attacks. I had already killed two of my cousins by the time I was their age.”
You nodded slowly. “Killing isn’t as much of a priority when you’re a kid here.”
“You make that blatantly obvious everyday with your oafish battle stance and shoddy swordsmanship.”
You scoffed and Shadowheart laughed. “I’m a lot better at fighting now, thanks,” you smiled at her, not actually offended. You knew she’d been raised on an entirely different plane, and who were you to judge their customs? At this point in your adventure, you knew not to take her harsh words personally. Even though she was usually right.
Lae’zel looked you up and down. “Perhaps so. I have seen the kith’raki tear a screaming neogi’s legs from its belly to fashion into blades.”
“Ew,” Shadowheart scowled. 
Lae’zel kept her eyes trained on you. “Yet, they could not match your nerve at the goblin camp. It was enough to drive me to madness.”
“Oh,” you said, a bit taken aback. “Thanks?”
“I smell their blood on you still. I smell your sweat.”
Your eyes widened. “Oh gods, I thought I washed that all off-”
Shadowheart set a hand on your shoulder and shook her head. You turned your focus back on Lae’zel. 
“I meant to taste that sweat. Pity for us you’ve already promised your body to Astarion.” She crossed her arms, annoyed.
“Ah,” you nodded, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Lae’zel, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” 
“Chk,” Laezel rolled her eyes. “It is your loss. Come morning you will wonder. You will wonder how my lips might have tasted. How my fingers on your skin might have felt.”
You looked down at the ground, feeling guilty for not picking up on her intentions sooner. Shadowheart laid a comforting hand on your back.
“Enough, Lae’zel,” she said. “She was bound to make a choice sooner or later. Let’s respect her decision.”
“And what a foolish decision it was. Astarion can’t even handle a few children. I would skewer them the moment they touched one of my belongings.” She thrusted her greatsword forward as if to demonstrate. 
You swallowed. “Then let’s be glad they aren’t after your belongings.” 
Lae’zel looked down her nose at you. “Let us hope that continues.” 
“Hope what continues?” Astarion approached the three of you and grabbed another bottle of wine, not bothering to pour it into his goblet and instead opting to drink directly from the source.
You shook your head, feigning annoyance. “Are you following me?”
“Darling,” he purred, sidling up next to you, “didn’t I tell you last night that I wasn’t going to leave you alone anymore, especially after we-”
Lae’zel groaned loudly. “I’m going to keep a vigilant watch for any of those whelps stepping out of line.” She turned on her heel and headed back to her tent, but not before intimidating a few unfortunate tieflings milling about nearby. 
Astarion took another swig from his bottle and winced, not enjoying the taste. “What’s with her? Apart from her usual Lae’zel…ness?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you said, sipping your own wine and feeling warmth spread through your chest.
Shadowheart leaned over to look at the vampire. “Enjoying yourself, Astarion?”
Astarion did a double take, apparently having not noticed her when he first walked up. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you protectively.
“Ooohh no,” he said, “you’re not sending me out on another long errand to keep me away from her.” He sounded whiney, likely from the buzz he was still nursing with the wine.
You and Shadowheart laughed.
“It’s okay, dearest,” you teased, poking his nose. “We’ve made peace with Shadowheart.”
Astarion looked from you to Shadowheart skeptically. “No more errands?”
Shadowheart smirked. “Don’t dally again and we won’t have to find out, will we?”
That answer seemed to satisfy Astarion, who pulled away from you and continued to drink from his bottle. “I suppose that’s fair. But to answer your question, yes, surprisingly I’m having a delightful time.”
You scrunched your nose. “What happened to hating all the attention and the bad wine?”
Astarion rolled his eyes. “Must you always question the details, darling?”
You laughed. “Yes, evidently I must.”
Astarion waved his hand in the air, ignoring your answer and continuing to address Shadowheart. “It’s been centuries since I’ve been able to really let loose at a soiree such as this without being told what to do or hunting for something.” He wrapped you in his arms again. “Not when I already have my prey for the evening right here.”
Your eyes widened at Shadowheart and you avoided eye contact with her, flustered.
“Astarion,” you muttered as he kissed your shoulder from behind.
Surprisingly, when you looked back at her, Shadowheart had a small smile on her face.  
She addressed you when she spoke. “Seems like you’ve really captured this one under your spell.” She nodded her head towards Astarion who had his nose pressed against your neck. 
He pulled back and looked shocked. “Is that what this is? Have you cursed me? Vile witch!” He smiled at you like a dope. He snapped his fingers at Shadowheart. “Remove this curse, cleric!”
Shadowheart grabbed his hand and set it back at his side. “What you’re not going to do is snap at me as if I were a dog.” She looked at you. “Who knew liquor would make him even more insufferable?”
“We should have accounted for this,” you agreed. 
“I am right here,” Astarion pouted.
You reached for one of his hands wrapped around you and squeezed it. “We know, dummy.”
His slightly unfocused eyes went gooey. He looked at Shadowheart. “You know, Shadowheart, we were each others’ firsts.”
You went rigid under his touch and Shadowheart inhaled her wine by accident, coughing briefly.
“That can’t be true,” she said looking between the two of you.
“Astarion,” you elbowed him.
Astarion scowled. “Oh, perish the thought, she was the first thinking creature I ever drank from.”
Shadowheart nodded slowly. “Congratulations?” She looked at you. “You didn’t drink… his blood too, did you?”
You shook your head and Astarion laughed. 
“No dear, I took her virginity.”
You elbowed Astarion with a good amount of force. 
“I will kill you,” you muttered exasperatedly.
“You will not,” he wheezed.
“I will not,” you sighed, looking up at Shadowheart, whose eyes had gone wide. 
Her expression morphed from one of shock to one of anger. She stood and walked over to Astarion. Her hand glowed with the makings of a guiding bolt. You stood quickly and stepped in front of Astarion, shielding him.
“Shadowheart!” you exclaimed. “It’s alright!”
“He’s a vampiric freak,” she said loudly, drawing the attention of a few party goers. “He’s using you for your blood and your innocence!”
Astarion scoffed and stood, stepping to the side, rendering your body shield useless. 
“How dare you,” he said, stomping his foot. “While, yes, that does sound like me, and was my intention originally,” Shadowheart raised her glowing hand and you held up your arms to stop her, “I did not make passionate love to her for no reason!”
You brought your hands to your face and ran them down your features slowly. This was mortifying.
“Can we keep it down?” you asked quietly.
Shadowheart rolled her eyes and dropped the prepped guiding bolt. She crossed her arms and looked at Astarion expectantly. “And what was the reason?”
He groaned dramatically. “Gods, I only brought it up as a joke for a laugh, do we have to keep it up?”
“Astarion,” both you and Shadowheart warned.
“Fine,” he avoided looking at you. “I like her, alright? More than like her, she’s- well, I don’t know what she is.” He took your hand in both of his own. “But isn’t it nice not to know?”
You looked at each other for a moment, his face soft, but a little concerned. You smiled and brought the back of his hand to your mouth for a kiss.
“So you didn’t bed her for the sake of gaining power from her virginity or something?”
That snapped Astarion out of his focus on you. “What? No, of course not! I’m a spawn anyway, so even if I wanted to I couldn’t.” He smiled at you. “But I didn’t want to!” He added quickly. 
“Nice save,” you teased, ruffling his hair, then thinking better of it and moving it back into place. “Let’s keep our sex lives to ourselves from now on, okay?”
“Gods below, if I’d known she’d react like that-” Astarion looked up at Shadowheart who was crossing her arms and looking at him as if daring him to finish the sentence. He cleared his throat. “Noted.”
Shadowheart shook her head and rolled her eyes before perching on the refreshments table once again.
“If he hurts you, I’m going to kill him and not revive him. And I’ll pay Withers for him to stay dead.”
You patted her shoulder. “I know. Thank you.”
Astarion leaned over to look at her. “To be clear, I don’t plan on hurting her.”
Shadowheart changed the subject. “What were you looking for over there?” She nodded her head towards Astarion’s tent. 
“Hmm?” he looked confused as to what she was referring to, then caught on and perched on the refreshment table again beside you. “Oh, just a little something for our beautiful bard here.” He started playing with the ends of your hair.
Shadowheart returned to her wine. “Couldn’t find it?”
“You know, it’s the strangest thing, I’ve been misplacing things all evening. Must be because of this delicious buzz I’ve got.” Astarion remembered the bottle he’d set down mere moments ago and returned to it.
Shadowheart lifted her eyebrows at you over her goblet. “Strange,” she said with an air of “We know exactly what’s happening and Astarion doesn't.”
You sighed, thinking he’d suffered enough at the hands of the kids. You took his free hand and hauled him up from the table. 
He eyed you curiously but made sure to take the wine bottle up with him. “What is it, darling?”
“Come on,” you started leading him towards the temple. 
“Oh ho,” he chuckled, stumbling a bit behind you, “wanted to get me alone, did you?” He sped up a little and gently bit the tip of your ear. 
You gasped at the sensation and he pulled back to smirk at you. You blinked and shook your head. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to ravish me in there,” you nodded ahead to the temple. 
Astarion caught you by the waist and lifted you a little, forcing you to stop moving. You yelped and he pulled you back so that he could whisper in your ear. “I can take you wherever I damn well please,” he growled. 
You shivered as he set you back down. “As sexy as you are, my love, you’ll see what I mean momentarily.”
You grabbed his hand again and led him across the log bridge and into the temple.
Only to find it empty.
Your stomach dropped. Uh oh.
Astarion sighed. “I don’t see what the problem is, dear.”
He took advantage of his grip on your hand and pulled you back to him, then spun you around so that your back was against the damp stone wall of the now truly abandoned temple. 
His knee came between your legs and he pinned your hands above your head. 
You were too shocked to say anything.
He grinned, and leaned into your ear again. “I could take you right here and right now,” he bent to kiss your throat and moved his thigh to rub deliciously against you. When you let out a small noise of satisfaction, he pulled back to look at you, his voice low, “If that’s what you want.” 
“Astarion,” you whined, closing your eyes and rolling your hips. 
“Yes, sweet girl?” he smirked at the pathetic look on your face.
“Kids, Astarion,” you exhaled shakily as he adjusted his thigh to give you a better angle. 
He paused. “Kids?” Then he chuckled. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, darling.”
You opened your eyes and gave him a confused look. 
He gave you an equally confused look. “I’m dead,” he said slowly, “I don’t think it’s possible?” He raked his eyes over your body and rested on your stomach. “Is it?”
You gently whacked the side of his head. “No, idiot, I’m talking about the tiefling kids.”
“Oh!” Astarion let out a relieved laugh. “What about them? You didn’t lose our entire camp over a game of hopscotch, did you?”
You rolled your eyes and pushed off the wall, looking around for any sign of the kids. It was dark and you couldn’t make out a thing. You groaned loudly up at the ceiling and ran your hands down your face. 
“I shouldn’t have trusted them…” you muttered.
“What did you do?” Astarion asked, sounding prematurely annoyed. 
You ignored him and opted to march out of the temple and up the log back into camp. 
A small laugh rang out from behind Gale’s vacant tent a ways off.
It sounded distinctly childish. 
You huffed some hair out of your face and marched up to Volo who was near Wyll’s tent, still writing in his journal. 
He lit up as you approached. “Aha! There you are! Come now, settle in. I do hope you have partaken in something bracing? This may well take up all night.”
You grabbed him by the arm. “No time.”
He protested as you dragged him towards the edge of camp. “I say! Unhand me! I’d hate to see your name slandered in an upcoming tale of your heroic escapades!” 
You ignored him and spun him to face you. “How loud can you whistle?”
Volo puffed his chest proudly. “I’m surprised you have to ask, given my accompaniment to your performance earlier this evening.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. “As loud and as lively as necessary.”
“Great. I’m going to need one sharp, loud whistle on my say so.”
He leaned in conspiratorially. “Ah, drawing attention, are we? Giving a rousing speech? Toasting to your fine accomplishments?”
“Neither.” You cupped your hands up to your mouth. “MOL AND COMPANY.”
The party grew silent.
Volo tilted his head. “Oh. Interesting choice of audience. But, children are the future-”
You elbowed him. “Do it now.”
“Right.” As instructed, Volo lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew harshly, emitting a loud, high pitched whistle.
You saw heads turn to you, as well as the figures of the kids clamoring to look at you from behind Gale’s tent.
“TO ME,” you called firmly, making eye contact with Mol and motioning for her and the others to come to you. 
As the children filed towards you, Volo shrunk back. “Do you need-”
“You can go.” 
“Thank heavens. Good evening.” He tipped his hat to you, then scurried off back to his post by Wyll’s tent. 
Mol came to a stop in front of you, crossing her arms and scowling at you. “What do you want now?”
You looked down at all eight of the hired thieves. Most avoided eye contact but Mol and Arabella, who smiled at you. You crossed your arms.
“It’s time to go over your spoils.”
“What, in front of him?” Meli asked, pointing behind you at Astarion, who lingered behind you looking rather in awe of what was occuring. 
“It’s been long enough,” you confirmed. “You all did very well and I’m very pleased with your efforts.”
You watched as the kids grew smug and shared excited looks with each other. 
Mattis spoke up. “What do we get in return for doing so good?”
“So well,” Astarion corrected.
“Didn’t ask you, did I mate?” Mattis snarled. 
Astarion flashed his fangs in retaliation and Mattis shut his mouth.
You placed your hands on your hips. “Well let’s see what you gathered, huh? Then we can determine.”
Mol clicked her tongue. “I already told ya’s, we have her support when we get to the Gate.”
“Lame!” Zaki exclaimed. “We should get some kind of physical prize or something.”
Doni made a noise of agreement. 
Mirkon shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s nice that we have the support of the hero of the Grove to help us.”
Arabella smirked. “I kind of want to see what else she has to offer.”
You did your best to stay stoic in front of them all, but you were too endeared by their curiosity and felt a smile tugging at your lips.
“Alright cretins,” you teased loudly, “show me where you buried the loot.”
Silfy giggled. “We didn’t bury it, silly!”
“Silfy,” Mattis hissed.
She grew quiet. “Sorry.”
“Be nice,” you warned, resting your hands on your hips. You took a deep breath, thinking about how to proceed. “Alright, first one to show me where you hid the loot gets their prize first.”
“Prize?!” Zaki gasped and Meli was already running across camp.
The other seven raced off after him.
You sighed fondly, choosing to walk after them at a leisurely pace.
Astarion caught up and strolled beside you. “Am I to understand that you had the urchins steal my belongings this evening?”
You clasped your hands behind your back and looked straight ahead. “Perhaps.”
Astarion chuckled. “I’d kill you if I didn’t desperately want to kiss you right now. Seeing your command over those children was really something.”
You cleared your throat. “Later. We need to get your stuff back first.”
He nodded, his brows furrowing. “You seem to like kids. Not just those brats.”
“I do,” you smiled. “They can be the best audience. Plus they’re hilarious in their own ways without even trying most of the time.”
Astarion nodded. “A collective of child criminals is rather funny from an objective point of view.”
“They’re pretty good, too,” you bumped his hip. “Got past our master rogue all evening.”
Astarion tsked. “I blame the wine, darling.”
“I think you’re getting sloppy.”
“Would you STOP FLIRTING and GET OVER HERE?” Mattis yelled from the boats near Withers.
Arabella leaned against the boat closest to the living corpse. “Bone Man here said we could hide our stuff in the boats.”
“Withers!” you exclaimed with no actual anger in the cry. 
“I did no such thing,” he denied, as stoic as ever. 
“Uh huh,” you said, then leaned in conspiratorially to the kids. “He hides our stuff all the time.”
The kids snickered, looking from you to Withers.
“I do not,” he said, his tone holding the same inflection as always. “I hast no need of thine earthly possessions.”
You clicked your tongue. “And yet you require compensation from us whenever we need something from you. Where’s the money going, Withers?”
Silfy giggled.
Withers didn’t budge.
You turned back to the kids. “He absolutely hides our stuff.” 
They snickered again. 
You moved closer to the boat to peer inside. Doni stepped in front of you, blocking your view.
“Alright, alright,” you laughed, taking a step back, “who wants to show me what they took first.”
“So you really are going to reward them for this behavior?” Astarion crossed his arms and you ignored him. 
“I got here first,” Meli said, stepping forward with his hands behind his back, “just so we’re clear.”
“You did not,” Zaki protested, “Doni got here before any of us.”
“Doni doesn’t count! He’s the best sneak of all of us!”
“He does count and that’s why he won!”
“Quiet, you two,” Mol said with a bit of an edge to her tone. “Doni did win fair and square.”
“Told you!” Zaki stuck out his tongue.
Meli rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He stepped forward and addressed you. “May I present…” he pulled his hands out from behind his back, revealing Astarion’s wine goblet from earlier.
“You little whelp,” Astarion hissed but you held up a hand to silence him.
Meli smirked at the vampire. “You’ll notice,” he tipped the goblet forward so you could look inside, “not a drop wasted.”
Sure enough, the goblet still contained a hefty portion of deep red liquid. 
You applauded his effort and a few of the other kids joined in. “Well done, Meli. But, uh, you didn’t drink any, did you?”
Meli scowled. “Yuck, no thanks. I don’t know why adults like this stuff.”
Astarion bent forward. “I’ll be taking that,” he swiped the goblet back, “thank you.” He took a long, deep sip, then wiped a drop that rolled down the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. 
“Who’s next?” you asked.
Silfy reached into the boat and pulled out a small brooch, covered in rubies and emeralds. “I got this from his tent.”
You got down on your knees in front of her again. “Oh Silfy!” you said, in awe of the craftsmanship. “This is lovely! Good job.” You turned to show Astarion.
He looked uninterested. “That was my mother’s.”
You stiffened briefly, then relaxed. “No, it wasn’t.”
He snorted. “Of course it wasn’t. I swiped it off some dead-” You made a face at him and nodded towards the kids, reminding him that young ears were listening, “-teddy… bear?”
“People die,” Mattis said flatly. “We’re not idiots.”
“I’m missing a gods damn eye,” Mol pointed to the bandage around her head.
You sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even trying, you guys are way too smart.” You turned and handed the brooch back to Astarion who pocketed it without question. 
“The smartest,” Mol grinned, looking around at the other seven.
Mirkon stepped forward. “Me next!” he reached into the boat and pulled something out, concealing it behind his back. He looked very pleased with himself when he revealed a set of thieves' tools. 
Astarion laughed once, humorlessly. “I have a million of those.”
Mirkon smirked. “Yes, but only one on your person.”
Astarion’s face fell and he patted himself down. His mouth raised into the smallest smile. “Not bad.” 
Mirkon tried to look cool, but he burst into a grin and stepped back to rejoin the others. You handed the tools to Astarion who hid them on his person once again and took another sip of his wine.
Zaki reached into the boat. “Here’s what I got.” He held out an unmarked tin but one that you recognized as one of Astarion’s beloved hair products.
Astarion spat a bit of his wine. “Give that here,” he held out his hand and Zaki clutched the tin closer to his chest. 
“Why should I?”
“Um, Zaki?” You made eye contact with him and shook your head. 
Zaki sighed and handed it over to Astarion reluctantly. “Tasted terrible anyway.”
You laughed and Astarion sputtered. “This is NOT to be ingested, you twerp.”
“Weirdo man!” Zaki exclaimed in response.
“Oof,” you turned to Astarion, “that’s gotta hurt.”
The kids laughed. Astarion narrowed his eyes. 
He examined the contents of the tin to see how much was left. When he saw that not much had been sacrificed, he sighed in relief. “This is a fine hair product from a particular salon in the Upper City that I was able to snatch while on the road. I only have the one container, if you must know.”
You turned back to Zaki. “Well done,” you clapped for him. “It’s like you stole his baby.”
Zaki blushed and smiled before Doni stepped forward.
He made a small noise and held out a hairbrush. 
Astarion gasped and snatched it from Doni quickly. “This was actually on my person during the Nautiloid crash.” He held it close to his chest. “I had it hidden away, how’d you find it?”
Doni responded with another unintelligible noise.
Astarion looked at the other kids.
Arabella shrugged. “We try not to question his methods.”
You patted Doni’s arm. “Great job, Doni.”
He smiled and Arabella took his place. 
She held out a small coin purse. “Tah dah!”
Astarion bent forward to examine it closer. “Sorry darling, that’s not mine.”
Arabella smiled. “I know.” She loosened the string to the purse and emptied the contents into her hand. A substantial amount of coins fell into her palm. “But these are.”
Astarion gasped and felt around his person again. You and Mol laughed at the look on his face. “Har har, I’d like those back now, please.”
Arabella handed the coins back a little too eagerly.
Astarion rolled his eyes. “All of it.”
Arabella’s shoulders slumped and she reached into the pocket of her skirt, handing him another handful of gold. 
“Work on your poker face, darling.” 
Arabella pursed her lips but nodded. 
“Mattis,” Mol said, motioning for him to step forward. 
Mattis nodded and looked between you and Astarion with a smirk. 
He extended his arms, revealing a dagger in each hand. “Whoa,” you said cautiously, motioning for the other kids to step away. 
Astarion laughed. “Be careful with those, kid.” He knelt next to you, looking Mattis in the eye. He elbowed the tiefling gently in the ribs, but it was enough to shock him into loosening his grip. Astarion caught one of the daggers and expertly grabbed the other one by the hilt and yanked it from Mattis’ hand. 
Before Mattis could even register what happened, Astarion was back on his feet, sheathing the daggers through his belt.
You looked at him with a shocked expression. He raised an eyebrow.
“What? Oh please, I didn’t hurt the child, and now he’s no longer armed. You’re welcome.”
You turned to Mattis. “You okay, Mattis?”
Mattis rubbed his chest and nodded. He looked up at Astarion in awe. “You have got to teach me that.”
The other kids agreed and crowded the vampire. 
He laughed uncomfortably. “There are… so many of you.” He looked to you for help.
“Alright guys, let’s give floofy hair some space.”
“Floofy?” Astarion brought a hand up to his hair as the kids dispersed. 
Mol stretched her arms over her head. “Best for last, I suppose.”
She went to reach into the boat for what you had to assume was the lute Astarion had hidden away for you. What she pulled out made you audibly gasp.
You’d expected something tattered, nothing special. Something plucked from the road by someone who didn’t understand the intricacies and nuances of musical instruments, but you knew you’d be content to make due with it because someone you deeply cared for had taken the time to pick it up and take it home to you.
Instead Mol presented you with a lute that looked like it hadn’t even been played yet. It was crafted from rosewood, giving it a pinkish hue and its surface shined as if it were just polished. Delicate roses were carved into the face and the strings were coiled tightly along the neck. 
“Oh,” you breathed out.
Mol raised an eyebrow. “Okay there, hero?”
You shook your head to break the spell. “I- yes.”
Mol turned to Astarion. “And what does this one mean to you? You had it stowed away so carefully with all those pillows and rags. Must be pretty special.”
Astarion cleared his throat. “It’s um… a gift.”
Mirkon giggled. “For who?”
Arabella crossed her arms. “It’s a lute. Clearly it’s for the bard.” She gestured to you with a nod of her head. 
Mattis blew out an unimpressed breath. “I saw her already carrying one around the Grove. Some gift.”
“So what?” Mirkon argued. “I think it’s nice.”
“So do I,” you confirmed, looking at Astarion, who caught your eye then turned away sheepishly. You turned back to the kids. “Want to know something funny?”
The kids looked intrigued and nodded, a few of them giving “yeah’s.”
You leaned in to whisper loudly and placed a hand next to your mouth as if telling a secret. “He broke my other lute,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder at Astarion.
He scoffed. “I did not!”
You tilted your head at him disapprovingly. “It’s your fault it broke.”
“I-” he tried to dispute you, but came up short and shut his mouth.
Mol laughed. “No wonder she wanted us to swipe your stuff. Although, seems kinda pointless now.” She handed you the lute.
It was a comfortable weight in your hands and you tested the sound. It would need a bit of tuning, but it was good enough for you to cast a minor illusion of fireworks around the kids, who all looked up in awe. You flipped the face of it up towards you and ran your fingers over one of the rose etchings. 
You turned to Astarion who was avoiding eye contact by drawing shapes in the dirt with the tip of his shoe. “Where did you find this?”
He looked at you and perked up, gaining an air of confidence that you usually saw when he was showing off in battle. “Found it on the Risen Road. Some poor soul perished with it hidden away in their belongings under a bunch of useless junk.” He examined his nails, feigning disinterest. “It was from the same horde where I found my hair product. I suspect some Upper City patriar accidentally stumbled into a pack of hungry gnolls on their way back to Baldur’s Gate. One can only imagine why they were all the way out here. But their loss was our gain.” He laughed airily. 
You stood and held your breath. “You’ve held onto this for that long?” 
Astarion deflated a little, caught. “I… may have been saving it for a special occasion.” He saw you move towards him. “Don’t be weird about this,” he warned, holding up a finger. “If you really annoyed me I was planning to give it to you and then destroy it. The look on your face would have been priceless.” He laughed again.
You ignored his deflection and took one of his hands in your own. “You’ve had this since before we-” you paused. “Since before last night.”
Astarion smiled softly. “I told you I liked you.” He looked away again when he asked, “But you like it?”
You bent forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s gorgeous. I love it. Thank you.”
“Gross,” Mattis moaned. “Can we just get our prizes now?”
You turned away from Astarion to face the kids again. “Right.” You clapped your hands together. “GALE!” You shouted, not bothering to turn your body in his direction, knowing he’d hear you anyway. 
Not even a second later, he misty stepped beside you. “Yes?” he asked. “How can I help?”
“Gale,” you said, your tone implying that you needed him to play along, “the kids did a great job of stealing from Astarion tonight.”
Gale furrowed his brow in confusion, but sensed the kind of answer you wanted. “Oh, that is most excellent news.”
You nodded and placed your hands on your hips. “I think we need to discuss their reward.”
“Absolutely,” Gale agreed. He motioned over to a patch of grass a little ways away, “Shall we?”
“Be right back,” you said. 
As you and Gale walked, you heard the kids talking to Astarion.
“So why do you have fangs? You some kind of demon?”
“My father was a bat.”
“Cool, can you fly?”
“No.”
Gale spun on his heel to face you. “So,” he started, “what’s going on?”
“Fair question. I wanted the kids to rob Astarion.”
“Sure,” Gale nodded. “Why?”
You shrugged. “Thought it would be funny. Didn’t think that far ahead.”
Gale nodded again. “Let me guess, you didn’t want them to actually keep the loot and now you need to satiate their desire for spoils of some kind.”
“You got it,” you confirmed.
He held a finger to his chin, lost in thought for a moment. “Alright. Play along.”
“Can do,” you said and followed after Gale back towards the kids.
“Why would I need echolocation if I’m not blind?” Astarion asked, exasperated.
“I don’t know!” Zaki shouted in the same tone. “You’re the one who’s half bat!”
“Tell me you can screech at least?” Meli asked.
Gale cleared his throat and the kids turned to face you.
“I don’t see no prizes,” Mol said, crossing her arms.
“An astute observation, Mol,” Gale agreed. “That’s because I’m going to summon your prizes from the Astral Plane.” Gale raised his eyebrows at you, talking out of his ass.
“Ooohhh,” you gushed, making what he said seem really impressive. 
“You’ve been to the Astral Plane?” Mirkon asked excitedly.
“Of course,” Gale lied.
Arabella cut in. “How do we know you’ve actually been?”
Gale chuckled. “How do you think we met our Githyanki friend?” He pointed to Lae’zel over his shoulder who was in the process of skewering watermelons with her greatsword as a few others watched.
The kids looked back at Gale, seeming to accept his reasoning.
Astarion rolled his eyes.
Gale rubbed his hands together, his fingers sparking with the purple glow of the weave. Something you suspected he was doing to try to further impress and convince the children.
“Who’s first?” he asked.
Meli was about to step forward, but Arabella stopped him.
“Doni got here first, he gets his prize first.”
Meli groaned. “I’m next, then.”
Gale smiled at the boy before him. “Well Doni, it’s Githyanki tradition that their most skilled warriors receive Crowns of Valor.”
You placed a hand on your heart, further playing along. “Gale! You can’t mean-”
“Oh, that’s right,” Gale nodded. “These young, intrepid adventurers deserve the highest of honors.”
You looked at the kids and raised your eyebrows. “That’s amazing!”
The kids shared excited glances and giggles as Astarion leaned in to you.
“To be clear,” he whispered, “Crowns of Valor don’t exist, right?”
“Correct,” you said through an unmoving smile. 
“And I knew that,” Astarion said unconvincingly.
Gale spun his hands through the air, the purple glow of the weave glowing brighter and brighter until a small, Doni sized crown appeared in Gale’s hands. It was of simple construction, made of tin with pointed peaks at the top, like the paper crowns you would make as a child. Then, Gale moved his hands some more and the crown molded itself into something similar to Lae’zel’s armor that you’d first met her in; polished silver with delicately raised patterns throughout, adorned with shining red jewels. 
“Whoa,” you said, genuinely impressed. 
Gale smirked and lifted the crown above Doni’s head. “I now bestow unto you the Githyanki Crown of Valor. Well done, lad.” He placed the crown on Doni’s head, who smiled widely and stepped back for the other kids to observe. 
They ooh’d and ah’d, a few even reaching to touch it, but Doni brought his hands up to the crown to keep it on his head.
Meli excitedly jumped forward. “Me next!”
One by one, the kids stepped up to receive their incredibly real and not conjured on the spot Crowns of Valor from Gale. 
“Thank you for the lute,” you said quietly to Astarion as the two of you watched the parade of children marching up to the wizard.
Astarion clicked his tongue. “I’m not sure you even deserve to keep it, given that you hired a bunch of children to steal it for you.”
You sighed loudly. “Just admit you were bested tonight and move on. I won’t think any less of you for it.”
He hummed in acknowledgement. “Don’t use this one as a club.”
“No promises,” you lifted the lute to mime hitting another imaginary bugbear. 
When Mol received her crown, the last of the kids to do so, Gale stood.
“Oof, the knees,” he muttered before rubbing his hands together to convey that his work here was finished. “Well then! I believe everyone has been thoroughly rewarded for their hard work.” He looked at you and winked. You mouthed a thank you.
Mol took off her crown and inspected it. “Hypothetically, how much could a Githyanki Crown of Valor sell for?”
You and Gale gasped dramatically.
“Why would you want to do that?” you asked, scandalized.
Mol rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Just tell us how much coin we’d get.”
Gale thought for a moment. “Hypothetically, if it were to be appraised, maybe about-” You elbowed him. “-a lot. Despite the absolutely priceless nature of the objects, you’d probably get a lot of coin.” He sounded pained to be saying such things.
“Excellent.” Mol said, examining her crown and then placing it back on her head. “Now,” she said, placing a hand on her hip, “do you need anything else from us? Or can we go? There are drunk adults to swindle.”
“Charming,” Astarion said flatly. 
You straightened. “Yes, you’ve all done an excellent job tonight and are free to go.” 
As the kids were about to leave, you stepped in front of them, blocking their path. 
“No more stealing tonight-” you said and a few of them groaned, “-but it’s fair game again when we see you next. Which will be in Baldur’s Gate when you’re members of a highly respected new guild.” You smiled at Mol who looked at you smugly and nodded. 
“Damn right!” she said proudly. 
The others buzzed with agreement and started dispersing after saying their goodbyes. You hugged Silfy, Arabella, and Mirkon, and waved to the others who promised they’d be careful on their journey to the city. 
You stood back and watched them go, flanked on either side by Astarion and Gale. 
Astarion examined his nails. “Those weren’t worth anything, were they?”
Gale shook his head. “Not unless transmuted tin suddenly gains a lot of value amongst merchants and traders. I’ve been gathering different alchemical items and ingredients all throughout our journey, and that tin that I used was actually from-”
“Ugh, stop talking,” Astarion interrupted. “I merely asked if they were worth anything in case I needed to nick one of them off one of the little roaches before they leave and we never see them again.”
“Astarion,” you whacked his arm lightly. “They’re just kids. And I’m sure we’ll see them again.”
“Whatever you say, darling,” he sighed.
“You could also just ask Gale to make you one if you want.”
“I’d be happy to-”
Astarion held up a hand. “And ruin this hair? I don’t think so.”
You looped your arm through his and watched as a few of the kids retreated into their makeshift headquarters for the evening, while a few others made a point of walking by Lae’zel’s tent first. It was clear they were trying to show off in front of her, but Lae’zel paid them no mind and focused instead on cleaning her greatsword of watermelon chunks. After a moment of them pacing back and forth in front of her, she leered at them and the kids quickly ran back to the temple, terrified she might stab them. Scratch and the owlbear cub chased after them.
You turned to Gale. “Thank you for coming to the rescue. I owe you one.”
Gale smirked. “Is it really a party if one isn’t rescuing their friend from the clutches of their own antics?”
Astarion snorted. “What kind of parties have you attended?”
“Well, I thank you for your quick thinking and skill with the weave.”
Gale puffed his chest. “I am rather excellent at magic, as I’ve said many times over. Though I fear what will happen once those miscreants try to pawn off those fraudulent crowns.”
You shrugged. “That’s a problem for future us.”
Astarion tsked. “Assuming they can catch us.”
You and Gale laughed. 
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Gale agreed. “I’ll leave you two to your evening. Let me know if you find yourself in any more trouble.” He nodded his head to you. “Good night.”
“Good night Gale,” you smiled as he walked back towards the excitement of the party where Karlach and Rolan were partaking in a loud drinking contest.
Astarion pulled you closer to him and squeezed your hip. “I still can’t believe you did that. After everything I’ve done for you.”
You smiled at him. “Ah yes, thank you for deciding not to kill me every day since you’ve met me.”
He pulled you into a kiss. “You’re welcome,” he said, muffled against your mouth. Unsurprisingly, he tasted of wine.
You pulled away and inclined your head towards Withers, still standing stoically nearby.
Astarion rolled his eyes. “I’m not even entirely sure he’s paying attention half the time, what with his distant stare and lack of meaningful conversation.”
“He called you my ‘bosom companion’ earlier.”
“He did what?” Astarion looked past you at the skeleton who made no move to acknowledge either of you. “I’ve barely had any time with her bosom yet, thank you.”
When Withers didn’t respond, you laughed and bent down to get a better grasp on your new lute. Astarion joined you, picking up his recently returned items and turning to face you. 
“Care to join me on a walk?” he asked.
You smirked. “This isn’t part of another plan to bed me, is it?”
Astarion laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He made his voice low and gravelly.
Your face went red. “Aren’t you drunk?” you asked, deflecting his advances as the two of you started making your way towards Astarion’s tent.
“Ah, ah,” Astarion tutted, “I was only ever tipsy. And to be honest, I believe the last of it burned off when the one person I stupidly trust most for some reason, betrayed my trust and stole my things.”
“We got them back!” you argued. 
“Hmm,” Astarion hummed. “Perhaps we should break up.”
You gasped loudly. “How dare you!”
He smirked. “I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“Am I going to regret asking what you have in mind?”
“I can think of a few options,” he said as you reached his tent and he knelt to return his items to their proper places. 
You yawned. “Oh yeah?”
Astarion rose back up and looked at you softly. “Tired, darling?” 
You mentally surveyed how you were feeling. “I suppose I am.”
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. “A side effect of playing hero for dozens of tieflings. Told you it wasn’t worth it.”
You rested your arms over his shoulders. “And it surely has nothing to do with my lack of sleep last night, does it?”
“I don’t know what you’re implying,” Astarion teased, kissing your forehead. “Go say your good nights.” He nodded towards the heart of the party where Karlach and Rolan were drunkenly singing an old dwarven drinking song. 
You looked at him curiously. “What about you?” 
“Trust me, my sweet, none of them are here to see me.” He tucked some hair behind your ear. “Even though I’m world-endingly beautiful.”
“I think you’ve mentioned that,” you teased. 
“They should count themselves lucky they even caught a glimpse.”
“Alright.”
“I mean, look at me.”
“I got it,” you laughed and pulled away from him, lifting your new lute one last time. “Will I see you later?”
Astarion furrowed his brow. “Do you truly think so little of me?”
You smiled shyly. “I don’t know, I’m still new at all of this.”
His expression grew soft. “As am I. We’ll get the hang of it.” His voice became flamboyant again when he said, “We are the most impressive pair in Faerûn after all.” Then he laughed brightly.
You laughed and turned to make your way to your tent to drop off your lute. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I await on baited breath, my love.”
~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (fair) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.
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bunnwich · 4 months
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It's Supposed to Be Fun
(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)
I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 
Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.
This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.
It’s supposed to be fun. 
Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.
So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?
Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?
To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 
Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.
If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.
To my friends who have been harassed: 
I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.
Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.
We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.
Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)
Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.
Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.
The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.
The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  
And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.
I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.
It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.
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saintjosie · 4 months
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apologies if you’ve talked about something this before, but your post on experiencing exclusion in trans fem circles on account of being an east asian woman who speaks up came up on my dash and it reminded me of something that‘a been troublingme.
i’m also asian and trans, and i’m always really sent off-kilter when i see white trans people idealizing japanese aesthetics and asian people in general. so many white trans people use anime tropes and aesthetics while also othering real asian people, esp other asian trans people. does it feel appropriative/fetishistic to you?
i guess it’s just something that echoes general white-centric society but it feels like a lot of white trans people focus more on their transness and forget that their whiteness doesn’t just go away or get excused, if that makes sense
this is a great ask with no easy answer. the short answer is yes, you’re absolutely right, but there is also a lot of nuance that’s very important to address too.
white people in general have an enormous problem with misunderstanding the difference between appropriation and appreciation. and that applies to appropriating the culture of all people of color because appropriation is a symptom of colonization. part of that is because it’s very difficult to have a catch-all definition that clarifies the distinction between the two because each person approaches the things they consume in a different way, with varying levels of excitement. i simply cannot point a finger at all white people who enjoy anime and say, “this is bad”, because it simply is not true. it would be just as harmful if a white person were to say, “i would never watch anime because i think it’s weird”, because while appropriation is objectively a form of colonization, appreciation is a celebration of diversity. and celebration of diversity is good!
but i think you hit the nail on the head when you say that a lot of white queer and trans people forget that even though that they are oppressed by cis heterosexual patriarchy, the intersection of oppression that exists between oppressed identities and race means that as white people, they still have white privilege. full stop. and so we often have this issue, especially with young queer and trans people (young as in newly realized queerness and transness, not age) where there is a pause in deconstructing whiteness because they are too focused on deconstructing the privilege that they have suddenly lost by embracing their marginalized identities.
and the issue goes even deeper when you realize that people of color also struggle to realize that we often also perpetuate and contribute to oppression of other people of color as well. east asian people in particular forget that even though we are people of color, we do not face the same kind of oppression that black and brown people of color do, and often we perpetuate racism through appropriation of black culture and also just straight up racism. i think most asian people can attest to how often asian people can be racist as fuck. and i’ve definitely seen asian people who think it’s acceptable to make aave and using the n-slur a part of their personality. and at the same time there is an enormous problem with black people fetishizing asian people and latching on to anime and k-pop in ways that perpetuate the oppression of asian people, as well as just being racist towards asians in general.
and root of the issue is that white supremacy affects all of us. EVERYONE has whiteness to deconstruct because we all live in a system that was built on white supremecy, even if we do not have white privilege ourselves. the answer is that everyone period must bear the burden of constantly deconstructing whiteness, deconstructing our own privilege, and doing our part to lift each other up. and while it is true that white people often have the most work to do in deconstructing their own privilege, none of us are absolved.
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