#have a bunch of my thoughts about Chuck

[howabhwmwn]

The issue is, Chuck is old enoiugh that in order for him and Jimmy to have a good relationship, he'd have to have Eldest Daughter Syndrome™, but the trouble is, Chuck doesn't have Eldest Daughter Syndrome™, Jimmy has Eldest Daughter Syndrome™.

Hmhm. I think Chuck has quite a few Middle Child traits which is definitely not helping in this whole relationship. He shouldve been a teen right around the time Jimmy was born, and im sure he was always academically driven. But he also really wanted to be special and get the praise from his parents for the good good grades. But its hard to give your teen son a lot of attention when you have a newborn. So Chuck wasnt really given the praise he rightfully deserved for his grades from his parents. And it was Jimmys fault. So he looked elsewhere. He wanted to be special and he also fell in love with the law. So this was it. And he was sooo good at it too. It was easy to throw himself into studying because he was so interested. But even when he got into college really young with amazing grades, his parents werent as proud of him as he needed them to be. Or they didnt show it, at least.

Of course he loved his brother, and his parents. But moving out to go far away towards his own career, finally be out of his little brothers shadow, was so much more important than family, to him. Since family didnt seem to value him that much anyway. He just didnt belong here.

And honestly, when he moved out it was like he could finally be himself. Focus on himself. Be someone he would admire. It was so much easier to love his family from the distance. He really felt the warmth when he got home too. And he was glad to get out of his families house. He had a found his place in the world in HHM (or i guess HM back then), with the thing that mattered to him so much: the law. He even got his brother out of a few tricky situations with the help of the law. Even if he felt kind of off doing so. Still, he did it because he loved his brother. For all the resentment he had held for Jimmy being the centre of his parents attention, he had never let it show. He loved his brother. He didnt want Jimmy to feel bad because Chuck was being selfish and childish.

When Jimmy got into a very bad situation involving a... sunroof, Chuck knew he couldnt let Jimmy be left alone. He didnt want his brother to ruin his life. So he took him in. It was terrifying, bringing Jimmy into the space he carefully crafted for himself. Bringing family into his perfect world far away from his teens felt like he was messing with something he should just leave alone, but.. he Really. Didnt want jimmy to ruin his own life. And what could Jimmy do in the mailroom except getting on track where Chuck could watch Jimmy.

Of course he warned Howard when he got Jimmy the mailroom job. Chuck was so scared that he could ruin his image. He was finally at the top. He was finally in a place he felt happy. He worked with something he was passionate about. But Howard liked Jimmy. It was fine.

Chuck didnt plan for Jimmy to get so much attention from others in the firm. He was just so good socially, something Chuck himself never was. Which was why he was attracted to the suit wearing crowd. He liked the staged conversations. He could figure out what to say before going into them. But Jimmy was different. It wasnt bad though. Chuck still had his crowd. He was in a different are, his area. Yes he felt uncomfortable getting his real life and his family mixed up, but it was okay.

And then Jimmy passed the bar. And Chuck panicked. He was terrified. This could ruin him. Jimmy wouldnt plan for it to ruin Chuck, he isnt malicious. But he has a talent for ruining things without meaning to. And jimmy in the law? Something so sacred? It wouldnt just ruin Chuck if Jimmy did something terrible without meaning to, it was also painful to see Jimmy take something Chuck was so passionate about and wave it around like a childrens wand.

[yeoldenews]

While we’re on the subject of names, is there an explanation for how traditional nicknames came about that are seemingly unrelated to, or have little in common with, the original name?

ie- John/Jack, Richard/Dick, Henry/Harry/Hank, Charles/Chuck, Margaret/Peggy/Daisy, Sarah/Sally, Mary/Molly, Anne/Nan, etc

I am actually over a week into researching a huge follow-up post (probably more than one if I’m being honest) about the history of nickname usage, so I will be going into this in much, much more detail at a hopefully not-so-later date - if I have not lost my mind. (Two days ago I spent three hours chasing down a source lead that turned out to be a typographical error from 1727 that was then quoted in source after source for the next 150 years.)

As a preview though, here’s some info about the names you mentioned:

The origins of a good portion of common English nicknames come down to the simple fact that people really, really like rhyming things. Will 🠞Bill, Rob🠞Bob, Rick🠞Dick, Meg🠞Peg.

It may seem like a weird reason, but how many of you have known an Anna/Hannah-Banana? I exclusively refer to my Mom’s cat as Toes even though her name is Moe (Moesie-Toesies 🠞 Toesies 🠞 Toes).

Jack likely evolved from the use of the Middle English diminutive suffix “-chen” - pronounced (and often spelled) “-kyn” or “kin”. The use of -chen as a diminutive suffix still endures in modern German - as in “liebchen” = sweetheart (lieb “love” + -chen).

John (Jan) 🠞 Jankin 🠞 Jackin 🠞 Jack.

Hank was also originally a nickname for John from the same source. I and J were not distinct letters in English until the 17th Century. “Iankin” would have been nearly indistinguishable in pronunciation from “Hankin” due to H-dropping. It’s believed to have switched over to being a nickname for Henry in early Colonial America due to the English being exposed to the Dutch nickname for Henrik - “Henk”.

Harry is thought to be a remnant of how Henry was pronounced up until the early modern era. The name was introduced to England during the Norman conquest as the French Henri (On-REE). The already muted nasal n was dropped in the English pronunciation. With a lack of standardized spelling, the two names were used interchangeably in records throughout the middle ages. So all the early English King Henrys would have written their name Henry and pronounced it Harry.

Sally and Molly likely developed simply because little kids can’t say R’s or L’s. Mary 🠞 Mawy 🠞 Molly. Sary 🠞 Sawy 🠞 Sally.

Daisy became a nickname for Margaret because in French garden daisies are called marguerites.

Nan for Anne is an example of a very cool linguistic process called rebracketing, where two words that are often said/written together transfer letters/morphemes over time. The English use of “an” instead of “a” before words beginning with vowels is a common cause of rebracketing. For example: the Middle English “an eute” became “a newt”, and “a napron” became “an apron”. In the case of nicknames the use of the archaic possessive “mine” is often the culprit. “Mine Anne” over time became “My Nan” as “mine” fell out of use. Ned and Nell have the same origin.

Oddly enough the word “nickname” is itself a result of rebracketing, from the Middle English “an eke (meaning additional) name”.

I realized earlier this week that my cat (Toe’s sister) also has a rebracketing nickname. Her name is Mina, but I call her Nom Nom - formed by me being very annoying and saying her name a bunch of time in a row - miNAMiNAMiNAM.

Chuck is a very modern (20th century) nickname which I’ll have to get back to you on as I started my research in the 16th century and am only up to the 1810s so far lol.

[missmugiwara]

A Secret

Summary: gn!reader x Luffy // What happens when you tell the captain a secret? Turns out, it makes him really happy! And he only wants more.

Warning: 18+, suggestive, very flirty, did I make Luffy a slight dom?

Note: I think one of my favorite things about writing for Luffy is that it's kind of hard. But he's my sweetie pie so I'm not complaining.

✦ Word count is 2.2k ✦

Luffy's strength was no secret.

Everyone knew that. It was also no secret that he always got stronger. Sometimes, it seemed like the Straw Hat Pirates were always moving from one adventure to the next, never taking a break. So how did Luffy have the time between fights to find new moves and new gears to try?

Maybe he didn't do it as much as Zoro, but there were instances where you caught the captain training. Sometimes it was on boring days like today where you happened to be parked at some random island for Franky to do routine maintenance to the Sunny.

Luffy's breath was heavy, mouth wide open to release hot pants. His red ruffle-sleeved shirt and yellow sash were chucked off to the side, bunched in a sloppy pile on the ground with his precious straw hat gingerly laid on top. His scarred chest heaved with each breath he took, muscles tensing deliciously. A thin layer of sweat covered his entire body, forming delicate beads of moisture to glisten in the sun. His hair splayed across his forehead and around his face in cute, damp waves from the moisture. It was certainly a sight to behold. The captain was positively mouthwatering, and only one thing crossed your mind at that moment.

You loved him so much.

It was always so hard to take your eyes off him. With feet crunching against the grass, you walked up some distance behind him and just silently admired. A tender smile etched its way onto your lips, and you sighed longingly at Luffy. He had one fist pulled back, while his other free hand - palm outstretched, thumb pointed downward - took aim at the air, and he punched. He repeated this move again and again, grunting and panting the entire time. As he continued with that focused, steady gaze in his eyes. As beads of sweat flew off his body.

He was so strong.

Did anyone ever tell him he looked so good?

A warm heat feathered over your cheeks, and your eyes perked up at the thought. And so, feeling rather bold, you snickered and took a step forward. You almost changed your mind. Then, using every ounce of courage, you merrily called after him.

"Luffy!"

The rubber man turned lazily to the call of his name. With an open-mouth releasing more pants, he tiredly smiled. And then his gaze grew more excited when he registered it was you of all people who called with such adoration. You, who was running toward him. You, who he could never get mad at. You, who lit up with joy every moment you saw him.

The sweetest face he had ever seen, and all his. Well, you were your own person - he didn't own you, and he knew that. But you were his. Somehow. His crewmate. His friend. His… something.

One day, he would gladly say the words: you're so much more to him. That much he knew, but what word could he use? Luffy always knew how to get right to the heart of things that needed saying most - but not today. Seeing your smile was enough, and there was way too much on his mind regarding everyone's safety in Wano.

"Do you wanna know a secret?" you grinned.

A secret? And just for his ears only? He already felt special enough with that smile you gave him. Nobody else ever got that smile.

You slowed to a stop when you collided into his back, pressing your chest to him. You didn't give him a chance to answer when you wrapped one arm around him, gently slapping your hand to his chest. The sweat upon him sticking you to him, and you did not care in the slightest how much it made your shirt wet. With the other free hand, you cupped it to his ear.

"Hey, did you know…" and you whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the shell of it as Luffy's eyes slowly widened.

The words were nearly lost in the breeze.

A red blush dusted over his cheeks, and his lips parted in response. Before he could turn and ask if you reeeally meant what you just said, you giggled and peeled yourself from him. You stepped back, hands clasped innocently behind your back and grinning so much that your eyes clamped shut.

"Huh? Really?" Luffy asked in disbelief.

"Oh, yes!" you nodded your head erratically.

Luffy still stared in shock, and you still smiled. There was a pause before the captain blinked at you, then smirked. He stood a bit taller and a bit prouder, puffing out his chest. He turned back but to a tree this time, taking his usual fighting stance. His fist flew back, and then forward as he launched it into the tree - completely breaking it in two as it fell to the ground with a loud thud. A few of your friends looked up in worry at the loud noise, then disregarded it once they realized it was just Luffy being Luffy. You beamed widely as ever, before giving a wave and returning to your spot next to Robin. She was seated underneath an umbrella and sipping tea.

She smiled and poured a cup for you. Trying not to come off as pyring, she asked, "What did you tell Luffy to put him in such a good mood?"

You grabbed the cup of tea and smiled profusely. She wouldn't dare tease you like the others if you answered honestly. Robin could be told things you could not tell others. And she knew you liked the captain very much so.

"I just told him… well, I said: hey, did you know that you're really sexy?"

Robin seemed surprised at the unexpectedly brazen comment. She was looking down at her cup, then her blue eyes immediately darted to meet yours. You said that to Luffy? A pause before she grinned.

"Oh? Is that so? I'm happy for you."

And Luffy seemed pretty happy about it too.

It was a major risk you took that day, but since then you were smitten even moreso because he responded in such a… pleasant way. So Luffy was the kind of person who understood sex appeal. It was settled then - you wanted to flirt more. You wanted to be more vocal about how you felt. To drop more hints, as ironic as it was because Luffy didn't need subtlety; he needed blunt words. However, the rising butterflies in your stomach told you that testing the waters was further needed. It was really just an excuse to cover up a rising bout of shyness.

It seemed he was not as naïve as his crewmates thought, and he truly understood this game. And really, how did anyone not notice how attractive he was? Zoro and Sanji got attention all the time, but what about the captain? The star of the crew? He was certainly charming in his own ways. And so this game of yours did not let up anytime soon.

"Who's that good-looking guy in the straw hat?"

You waved at him, calling out with a hand cupped to your mouth. Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji walked toward the ship after being in town to buy supplies. Each of them had sacks of food tied to their backs, and Luffy broke out into a huge ear-to-ear smile. He laughed, a blush ever-present at his face. Zoro rolled his eyes, and Sanji's smile faded when he realized - oh, you were speaking to the captain, not him.

"Me? Oh, stop!" and Luffy would blush and blush, identical to the way he blushed when any of his crewmates said he was strong or reliable. The sight was too cute not to eat up. At least he was getting it now, because the first time you said that Luffy whipped his head around. With squinted eyes, he kept asking who was this guy until you bursted out laughing. This was really funny because it was so cute and so like him to do that.

"What a man."

You would purr so lowly when he passed by, especially if he had just defended the weak and beat someone up - panting, sweaty, delicious as usual. Boy, was being in Wano such a treat. Luffy's ears would prick at the sound of your honeyed tone, and sometimes they turned red. He would quickly turn to meet your lidded gaze, your eyes wandering up and down his shirtless self - and the blush would return to his face. He would break out into a loud laugh after he processed the words you graced him with.

The flirting was fun, truly. Yet sometimes you wondered if anything more would happen after all the effort. It had to, right?

What were you even waiting for?

Such questions did not cross your mind at this particular moment though. As usual, Robin and you were passing the time once again while the Sunny sailed off to another adventure. The topic of conversation was another good book you both had read in your little two-person bookclub. Luffy walked by, a tiny smirk at his lips, as you and Robin laughed about something silly in the last chapter.

Luffy froze once he got past far enough. Something was off. Quickly, he whipped his head around to furrow his brows in frustration. He pointed his gaze at you… and pouted. A cute grumble escaped his lips, and with his fists balled to his sides and arms swaying, he tromped right over.

Between the fits of laughter and conversing, you didn't even hear Luffy's feet crunch in the grass behind you - picking up speed. And what really took you by surprise was when one of Luffy's rubbery hands suddenly grasped your jaw between his thumb and fingers, and he turned your face so you could see him. It went without saying that the laughter immediately stopped, and you and the archaelogist froze in place.

You blinked once. Luffy just held your face, not enough to hurt you because he would never, as you two locked gazes. His breath felt hot on your lips. In turn, your own breath was caught in your chest as your face ignited into flustered heat because - well, because he never held you like this and at such closeness too. Something must have been troubling him.

"What's… what's wrong, captain?"

Oh, you were right about something being wrong. Luffy cocked his head to the side in an attempt to deepen his focus. He was really studying your face, and it only got warmer the more he stared.

"You didn't say anything!" he whined.

Another blink or two from you, and Luffy's grip loosened on your face.

"Loofs, I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"You didn't say anything… you know - fun and nice. To me. Like you always do."

Another moment for you to process, and the lightbulb went off in your head. Ohhh! He wanted another - oh, yes. You almost wanted to laugh because apparently it was really that much of a habit by now.

How dare you forget to take care of your precious captain?

With face still in his hand, your eyes darted off to the side. For the third time, your cheeks went even hotter. And you didn't know why this bout of shyness ran over you all of a sudden. Perhaps it was because you were the one always catching him off guard, flustering him so deeply. Not the other way around. So you took a second to think, but you hadn't planned anything yet for that day. So in a small voice, you answered him quickly, truthfully, and without much thought.

"Hottie."

You nearly moaned under your breath. The blush dusting over his rubbery cheeks and the wide smile he bore was enough to let you know he was satisfied. Robin sat in awe (you two completely forgot she was still there) but then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle.

And Luffy grinned.

"Keep talking like that. I like it!"

Oh, the way he looked at you made your heart thrum in your chest. The way he held your face, making you lock eyes. Gently, he released your frazzled self. Your jaw dropped into a suprised, open-mouthed smile. Trying to ignore the fact that Luffy said he liked it, you diverted your attention to the first part of his somewhat confession.

"Oh, you think you can boss me around like that, huh?" You smirked, taking a playful tone to let him know you were joking.

Luffy was walking away, but he paused midstep. He turned his head to peek over his shoulder, his bright eyes staring directly into your soul. The wind blew to ruffle his jet black hair and the brim of his beloved straw hat before his eyes grew lidded.

"Of course! I'm the captain here. Besides… you looove doing what I say. You always do, and you never refuse."

With that, he walked off.

And there you sat, flustered to oblivion as you brought a hand to to cover your growing smile. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Robin wink.

[jaeyunverse]

chapstick challenge

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

genres: fluff, suggestive

wc: 1163

warnings: making out

summary: the chapstick challenge is just an excuse for you to get heeseung to kiss you. thankfully, he’s more than happy to oblige.

note: i don’t have the motivation to write but i didn’t wanna let the blog die either so here’s another repost :)

masterlist

“Heeseung!” you popped cheerfully and poked his cheek with your pencil. “Can I ask you something?”

The boy looked at you suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Do I always have to want something from you?” you asked, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“You’re being weirdly nice and unnecessarily upbeat at 8:30 in the morning so—” he shrugged— “yes.”

“Okay, yeah, I do want something,” you deadpanned, dropping your charade immediately. Heeseung rolled his eyes and you shoved his shoulder playfully in response. “But you have to promise you won’t say no.”

“No.”

“Boo!” you complained. “You’re such a party pooper!”

Refraining the urge to roll his eyes again, Heeseung reminded you, “The last time you made me promise to not say no, we ended up in the goddamn police station.”

“That’s on you for running too slow.”

“You forgot to pick up the bag with the fucking spray paints, Y/N!” he exclaimed incredulously. “They’re expensive!”

“I didn’t mind ditching the bag if it meant our parents remained uninformed about what happened that night!”

Letting out a long sigh of exasperation, Heeseung said, “Just tell me. The free period will be over soon.”

“Okay,” you declared and dragged your chair closer to his desk. Gesturing for him to come closer, you whispered in his ear, “It’s a TikTok challenge.”

The disappointment on Heeseung’s face could not have been more evident. “I thought you had something interesting to tell me. This was so lame.”

“C’mon!” you urged. “I swear it’ll be fun!”

“You know I’m not into TikTok.”

“Are you opposed to the idea of kissing me too?”

“Oh.” His demeanour changed immediately and he leaned towards you with a curious expression on his face. “Tell me more.”

“You’re such a dork,” you teased.

“I’m down for anything that involves kissing you,” he admitted shamelessly and shrugged. “Maybe this will finally persuade you to be my girlfriend. What’s the challenge?”

You snorted. You and Heeseung were definitely more than friends, but you weren’t exactly dating either. He wanted the two of you to be together, but you weren’t inclined to get involved with him—he was moving to another country for college in a few months.

It was already hard for you to come to terms with the fact as a friend. You weren’t sure you’d be able to cope if you began dating him.

Heeseung tried to convince you that you could make a long-distance relationship work, but you knew better than that. It wasn’t realistic—the timezones weren’t compatible at all and you were both way too career oriented to be able to commit to someone who lived on the other side of the world.

So, you just flirted with each other without ever putting a label on whatever you were. A few platonic makeout sessions here and there, a few not-a-real-date dates to make memories, but never girlfriend and boyfriend.

“I apply a bunch of different chapstick flavours and you try to guess them.”

Heeseung grinned mischievously. “Oh, I love what you have in mind.”

“Meet me at our usual spot during lunch break?” you asked, your lips mirroring his contagious smile.

“Can’t wait.”

“Will we be recording the challenge?”

You raised an eyebrow and looked at Heeseung over your shoulder. Tightening your grip on his hand as you tugged him along faster, you said, “I wasn’t planning to. Do you want to?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ll just get self-conscious.”

You laughed. “Are you saying you’re camera shy?”

“I’m saying I would rather focus on the challenge!” he exclaimed, the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment.

“Relax.” You chucked and let go of his hand. “I’m just messing with you. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Fetching an eye mask from the pocket of your hoodie, you handed it to Heeseung and told him to put it on. He did, and you uncapped the first chapstick.

After putting it on, you grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. His arm immediately wrapped around your waist, his hand finding its way to your jaw and cupping it gently.

Then, his mouth was on yours. You were a little surprised by how easily he was handling you even though he couldn’t see anything. It made you realise just how well he knew you—how much you’d gotten used to being with each other.

Heeseung tilted his head to the side for better access and ran his tongue over your bottom lip, sucking on it to get a better taste of the flavour you had applied.

“Strawberry,” he guessed without bothering to break the kiss.

You hummed. “You’re good at this.”

He smiled against your mouth and kissed the corner of your lip before pulling away. Removing the eye mask, he asked, “At guessing flavours or at making out?”

“Guessing flavours,” you said with a smirk and slung your arms around his neck. “I’m gonna need to conduct more experiments to reach a conclusion on that regard.”

“Oh, yeah?” he teased, running his thumb up and down the curve of your waist. “Go ahead and apply a second flavour then.”

You did, and this time, Heeseung wasn’t sweet nor gentle. He pretty much had you pinned against the wall, your fingers weaving through his hair and tugging at the strands.

The kiss was deeper and messier, as if the boy couldn’t get enough of you. Could never get enough of you.

His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you knew he wasn’t holding back anymore. He nibbled on your bottom lip, sucking and licking till you lost sense of everything else but him.

Out of breath, you broke the kiss, but Heeseung, it seemed, was nowhere near done. He placed his lips on your neck, allowing you to get some much needed oxygen into your system.

“That’s not where the chapstick is,” you whispered. You wanted his mouth back on yours. Now.

“Chocolate,” he muttered, sucking hard on the underside of your jaw. You hissed in both pleasure and pain. “It’s chocolate.”

Panting, he detached his lips from your skin and leaned against the wall next to you. You glanced at him and noticed that his tie had come loose.

Not only that, but part of his shirt had also somehow untucked itself and his hair was sticking in all directions. What you loved the most about his dishevelled appearance, though, were his swollen lips.

“Bingo,” you confirmed, resisting the urge to pull him against you again. “It was chocolate.”

Heeseung smirked. “Do I get a reward for passing the challenge?”

You didn’t answer immediately, instead fixing your uniform and hair. He watched you intently with dark eyes.

On your way out of the alley between the two secluded buildings at the back of your school, you said, “Why don’t you meet me back here after class and find out?”

The mischievous glint in Heeseung’s eyes was all the answer you needed.

[love4thetinas]

INKED ( Pt. 1 ) - a jake webber story

summary: jake is in need of a new tattoo artist, and he thanked his lucky stars to be blessed with such a beautiful one.

WARNINGS: slight spiciness, mentions of needles, idk just a bunch of flirting

4.4k words

┌──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┐

Jake was an addict.

Well, a tattoo addict. He would get at least one new tattoo pretty much every week. He loved looking at himself in the mirror after a shower, admiring the myriad of small colourful drawings along his arms. His roommate, Johnnie, even walked in on him doing this the other day and saw him flexing in the mirror - a story they both agreed would stay strictly between them.

But unfortunately, his usual artist closed up shop in the last month, and he was craving another fix of ink on his skin. So he searched around for a new one to fulfil these needs of his.

He opened up Google on his phone - ‘tattoo artists near me’ - and checked the first few results and their reviews.

The first two looked pretty decent, however, there were some mixed reviews about either the cleanliness and/or hospitality. Jake figured that if he was going to get stabbed a few thousand times, it might as well be in a nice enough place.

So he checked the third one.

It was close (only about a 10-minute drive), the photos on their website and Instagram looked awesome, and it had almost perfect reviews:

‘Brilliant work! Will definitely come back’

‘Incredibly talented artist, well done’

‘Friendly, hospitable environment 5/5’

“Hm,” he hummed to himself, going to check their prices which turned out to be reasonable as well.

DM FOR SAME DAY BOOKINGS

‘Perfect!’ He thought as he followed the link on their website to the shop’s Instagram, crafting a message to send.

Hi there, I want to get a couple of tattoos done and was wondering if you had any slots free today ?

He sat with the chat open for about a minute, crossing his fingers as he waited.

But soon he saw three dots appear by his keyboard.

Manager here, of course! We’d love to take your booking,

But just a couple of things before i put you down, can you give a rough idea of what tattoos you’d like and where you would like them?

“Yes!” Jake cheered for himself in a whisper, punching the air in front of him triumphantly before he replied.

I was thinking just some red and black stars on my lower lower stomach? Maybe like 3 on each side if that’s alright?

Jake responded hesitantly, hoping there would be enough time for him available since he didn’t want to have to come back on another day. But his fears were settled promptly,

Perfect. That’s all fine to go ahead, I actually have a slot for you myself at 3:15 this afternoon if that works for you? You’ll have to put down a small deposit and then you pay the rest in full once it’s all done :)

They sent over the transfer details.

He checked the time at the top of his screen, 11:42, he had plenty of time to get ready and he didn’t have plans for the rest of the day. Looks like he would be coming home with yet another colourful trophy on his skin to show off to all his friends and fans.

Awesome, that sounds great thanks a lot man! I’ll pay you now

He replied happily as he walked up to his room, watching as they typed on the other end.

No problem, see you later :)

He huffed a breath out of his nose at the little emoticon smiley face; who would’ve thought a tattoo artist would text so cutesy?

Later that day Jake got in his car, ready to drive over to the studio, quickly fixing his hair in the rearview mirror and chucking on one of his Spotify playlists before he set off. The address was on their website and he put it in his phone for directions.

After roughly 3 songs had finished he spotted the shop, going to park up on the curb across the street. But as he went to open his door he noticed that it was still only 3’o’clock and he had maybe been a little bit eager with the time he left the house, so he went and got himself a coffee at the Starbucks across the street and had a cig outside while he waited.

But as soon as the time on his phone ticked over to 3:15, he was up there.

He looked around the room where there were three other people he could see getting tattooed. The walls were covered in posters and graffiti, loud music playing over the noise of the tattoo guns and artist/client chatter - it was like some sort of vintage, punk hangout, except it was most likely a lot more sterile and visibly a lot cleaner.

Jake walked up to the counter where he figured he was supposed to wait for the guy he spoke to on Instagram to come meet him.

His foot tapped nervously on the ground as he waited. Tattoos didn’t usually scare him, but it was more the fact that he wasn’t used to this new environment and artist. But he was sure it would be fine, they sounded nice enough over text.

A door opened up towards the back of the space from what he assumed was one of the private rooms and a guy and a girl came out, both covered in tattoos, chatting as they made their way to the front of the store.

But to Jake’s surprise, it was the girl who came up to the desk to greet him.

“Hiya,” she said with a closed-lipped, pierced smile, “How can I help you?”

“Uh…” Jake stuttered, he was always prone to that, but especially now, talking to her. “I’m Jake? I messaged your guys’ manager earlier for an appointment at 3:15?” he confirmed as she looked up at him from over the desk.

“Oh perfect!” she exclaimed, “I’m Y/n, the manager.” she clarified.

“Now, we don’t have any more space out here so we’ll have to be in one of the private rooms towards the back, is that alright?” she asked, gesturing to where she had just come from as she started to walk back out from behind the counter, but Jake didn’t hear a word she said.

He felt bad for even thinking it, but he expected some sweaty, bearded biker-dude to be the manager of this place. He was taken back as soon as she had told him otherwise; not in a sexist way or anything, but the image he conjured up in his head beforehand could not have been more different to the woman before him.

She was quite frankly gorgeous. Dare he say it the most gorgeous girl he’d ever met. And she was so… cool, you know?

With black hair, a few piercings, and some tattoos visible on her forearms and collarbone, and as she turned around to lead him away he noticed the small one behind her ear. Not to mention her fashion sense. But it was the way she carried herself that really drew Jake in.

Not once did she break his eye contact, not once did she walk without a strut in her step. Not once did she falter in any way.

“Uh- Sorry, what did you say?” he laughed nervously, having been too distracted, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as she turned back to face him.

She laughed as well, only for a second, but that was enough for Jake to decide that it was the prettiest laugh he had heard in his life. But he forced himself to snap out of it this time for he could not ask her to repeat herself for the second time.

“I said we’re gonna have to go in one of the private rooms at the back ‘cause there’s no space out here,” she motioned to all the occupied seats. “Are you okay with that?”

“Oh!” he managed to hear her this time and nodded. “Oh, yeah, of course,” he smiled widely.

And gosh, was Y/n just trying to stay professional.

She hoped that her client didn’t pick up on the way her eyes scanned his body when she walked up to him, or how her stomach flipped as he ran up beside her and she saw how tall he was, or hell, how good he smelt.

“So,” she started to make conversation as she led him towards the door to the private tattoo room, “how’s your day been so far?”

Jake's ears perked up at the sound of her voice once again, snapping himself out of a daydream to answer the question, “Alright. Yeah, it’s pretty good.”

His smile. Fuck, his smile.

“And you?” he returned as they got up to the door which was slightly ajar so he skipped in front of her and held it open, like a proper gentleman, waving a hand for her to go inside as if to say ‘after you.’

Y/n giggled to herself under her breath as she followed him through the door, taking over to close it behind them, turning back to face him as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Same old same old,” she answered his question with a shrug, “but it’s not too bad.” she smiled.

“Take a seat in my office,” she laughed and gestured towards the tattoo bed as she sat down in her own chair beside it.

“Cozy office,” he matched her energy after looking around the room and taking note of the decor, picking up the pillow that lay at the head of the bed and fluffing it a bit, then holding it on his lap.

“Thank you,” Y/n said quickly as she took the iPad from off the table next to her, along with the stylus, and opened up a drawing pad. “So, you said you wanted some stars, yeah?” she looked up at him.

He nodded as he peeked over to see her screen.

“Sick. Alright, can you show me where?” she asked while once again making the same eye contact, tilting her head to the side and resting the end of the stylus on her teeth, making Jake’s brain go blank.

“Oh- yeah sure,” he tilted his head down, flicking some hair from his fringe out of his face as he lifted up his black tank top. “Just like, three stars on each side,” he traced along his pronounced V-line, even bunching up the waistband of his jeans to reveal more skin. “I was thinking they could be bigger at the bottom and get smaller at the top? And like alternate between black and red with a black outline.” he described in detail what and where he wanted them, but all Y/n could see were his slender fingers running over the prominent trails leading to his pelvis.

All she could hear was his deep, deep voice, with that Southern twang that could lull even the most chronic insomniac into a peaceful sleep.

Of course she was still listening, in fact, it only made her pay even closer attention to what he was saying. She watched very intently as he described the size and placement of it all.

Once he was done explaining he looked back up again, “Yeah, that’s about it,” he shrugged.

However, she was still looking at where his hands had just been - it was only when he dropped his shirt back down that her head flicked back up for her to meet his gaze again, one corner of his mouth being upturned to the slightest degree, but it was enough to catch her attention.

She got to sketching on the iPad, and because it was a relatively simple design it didn’t take long. Soon the template was printed out and she brought it back to Jake who was still sitting patiently on the bed, swinging his legs off the edge but stopped as soon as she came in, leaving her no choice but to stifle her giggles.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to bunch up your shirt a bit and loosen your belt as much as you can so I have some room to work with, alright?” she asked him as she walked back to the table beside him, putting on some black latex gloves from the drawer.

“Alrighty,” he sang as he did exactly that, standing up briefly and turning around as he adjusted the tightness of his belt and the height of his underwear. “No peaking,” he teased with his back towards her.

She scoffed at his words, but she could not help thinking, ‘You think he saw me staring?’ Because where usually she didn’t care about such a thing, she felt the need to keep everything strictly business.

After he was done he sat back down in his previous spot.

“Could you lay back for me?” she asked politely as he gave her a little salute as he followed her command.

“Yes, ma’am,” he joked as he followed her orders once again. She scoffed to hide her smirk at the nickname - she knew he knew what he was doing.

She moved her chair over and placed the stencil over where he wanted it, then asked him to sit up and check if the placement was all right and he assured her that it was perfect.

So without another word, she started to print the stencil onto his lower stomach.

“Tss-” Jake hissed slightly as she rubbed the drawing onto his skin which made her head flick up to him.

“Cold?” she chuckled, assuming his noise was due to the gel used to transfer the image.

However, Jake cursed himself internally for his reaction. “Nah, it’s all good,” he replied honestly. He thanked God he managed to play it off because he truly didn’t know what caused it - perhaps it was her hands touching him so delicately…

“Okay, you ready?” she asked as she picked up the gun, dipping it in the ink and moving it closer to where she would start.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said cockily as he put his hands behind his head.

So she counted down from three and got to work. But something she noticed was that when the needle pierced his skin his breath hitched.

And he was typically good with pain, but this was something different.

“Does it hurt?” she chuckled, not stopping as she angled her head to the side to look up at him, making him deny it quickly.

As she continued tattooing she tried her best to tune out the slight huffs and groans coming from the man below her hands, and instead focussed on asking him questions.

“So, what do you do for a living?” she asked casually as she stared only at her work.

This gave him the opportunity to look at her instead, watching her skilled hands draw such perfect lines. “Oh,” he wondered how in-depth he should go with his answer, “I do YouTube, I make some music too.”

“Yo, what? Awesome!” she said excitedly, “You’ve gotta be pretty good to live out here in the Hills.”

He laughed slightly, “I’m alright,” he stayed humble as to not come off cocky. “What about you-” he started but kicked himself immediately after he said it.

She laughed this time, looking up to meet his eyes, “What do you think?” she held up the gun.

“But you’d think this would be easier by now,” she mentioned, “you chose the most awkward angle in the world for me to work with.” She was half-joking, but she also tried to readjust her arm positioning on his torso to make it easier.

“Sorry,” he chuckled as he watched her struggle, he was going to suggest something to make it easier, but he decided against it.

As she kept going he had to keep telling him to stop fidgeting because he would squirm and move practically every two seconds, but he swore it wasn’t hurting that bad.

As he kept apologising and they kept making small talk she butted in with another question, “You’re not from around here, are you?” She didn’t want to sound rude, but she could not focus on anything else but that hint of country in this alt boy’s accent.

“Nicely noticed,” he praised with a hum, “I’m from Kansas in the midwest, out in the sticks and the mud!” he put on a heavy country-boy voice as he said it, making her cough out a laugh.

“What about you?” he flipped the question back on her.

“Born and raised,” she smiled sarcastically. She’d always wished to go somewhere else but never had the chance. “I’ve lived in this same area my whole life. Still live in a house just down the road,” she shrugged and nodded in the direction she meant, returning to focus on her work.

“Oh yeah? D’ya live with your boyfriend…?” he asked slyly, slightly hesitant but he figured it could just be an innocent question. And while she wasn’t looking at his face she could practically sense the smirk on his beautifully plump lips.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head and replied, “I don’t have a boyfriend, I live alone.” she clarified.

“Hm,” he replied simply as he laid his head back again.

“What about you then?” she started the conversation back up, “Live alone?”

“Nope,” as soon as he spoke her heart dropped, shit. Was she misreading all of this?

“I’ve got two roommates, but no girlfriend,” he said confidently, making Y/n’s heart rate go back to normal.

God, he was good.

“Hm,” she mimicked his response in him same tone and carried on.

But after a couple minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence, while they both listened to the music playing through the speakers, she piped up again. “Ugh,” she exclaimed, making Jake open his eyes and look back down at her as she moved her chair back and forth, “you really did choose the most awkward place for me to tattoo! You know that?” she complained light-heartedly with a laugh at her inability to find the right position. “It’s hard for me to reach across like this,” she demonstrated the tricky angle for him to see.

“You keep saying that,” he laughed deeply and then went quiet once more, but when she looked up at him she saw that the cogs in his brain were spinning rapidly.

“You know,” he started, making Y/n turn her attention back to him as he spoke, “you could always just sit here,” he nodded his head down to his legs and her eyes followed.

He said it. He finally said what he had been thinking for the past 30 or so minutes.

“Uh… what?” Y/n said nervously.

There was no going back now.

“You heard me,” he smiled, trying his best to stop his lips from curling up into more of a smirk so as to not intimidate her, but he definitely knew he wasn’t alone in feeling like he was. “Listen, it doesn’t have to be weird, it just might be easier for you, yeah?”

She thought about it, she really really did, but she knew she couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, it would be unprofessional of me,” she said, still trying to convince herself not to just straddle his lap right there and then, having to look away from him because she knew that if he looked at her one more time with those puppy-eyes it would be a whole different story.

“I assure you it doesn’t have to be,” he persuaded. That voice of his smooth like silk - the most enchanting, compelling silk ever spun.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath in, then she looked at the camera in the corner of the room. No one else saw the footage but her, it’s not like she would lose her job.

Fuck it.

“Fuck it,” she said as she climbed on, carefully placing a knee on either side of his long legs and leaning forward to test how the new angle worked for her.

“Better?” he responded in a ‘told-you-so’ type of way - he was getting cockier by the second now he had gotten what he wanted.

She got back to work and looked up at him this time through her lashes, flicking some hair out of her face, “It is, actually.”

She noticed the way he looked down at her every now and again and recognised what went on behind his dark brown eyes - but she paid no attention. Y/n figured that the best course of action was to act as if this was a perfectly normal day and that she did this with every client.

She didn’t.

Her best efforts were put into ignoring his burning stare, and his gorgeous hair, and his perfect nose, and his sexy smile; his arms, his revealed torso that she was constantly touching; him.

But he, on the other hand, used her beauty as a way to distract from the pain of the relentless needle piercing his skin. Her face, her eyes, the expression she made when she concentrated, her body on him.

And time flew, meaning that in what felt like too soon, it was done.

Y/n wiped away the final bit of ink and admired her work, scootching back so Jake could sit up a bit and see for himself, “What do you think?” she asked nervously, as it was always a bit scary showing clients what you’ve etched into their bodies for life.

He shuffled up to have a good look at it, then at her, then back at his stomach. “It’s…” he drew it out, “Perfect!”

A wave of relief washed over Y/n as she sighed, noticing Jake’s line of sight had been aimed at her again.

“Thank you, Y/n,” he said sincerely.

She just smiled, listening to the way her name fell off his lips like it had been waiting on the edge for a lifetime. But then she looked down and realised that she was still practically sitting on his guy’s lap, so she quickly scrambled off and stood next to the bed again, going to fetch a ‘second skin’ from her drawer.

Jake could not help but feel a little disappointed when she seemed so desperate to get it all over with. The last thing he wanted was to have made her at all uncomfortable.

But she wasn’t. As soon as she came back and put the protective layer over his tattoo she looked up at him again from her chair, “You’re very welcome.”

They both made their way back into the main room, smiling and laughing with each other as they continued talking, but in the cold outside room, the burning hot rope of tension that tied them together became even more astoundingly apparent.

She tried to break the tie by going behind the till, leaving him on the other side.

His total appeared on the screen and he paid. He actually paid a lot more than he should have, not taking his eyes off her even once as he did so.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/n,” he said somewhat solemnly. He knew he was most likely going to see her again, this definitely wouldn’t be his last tattoo, but it felt akin to saying goodbye to a loved one, even though they had only been in each other's presence for less than a few hours.

“Have a good rest of your day, Jake,” she returned, a similar feeling rising within her, but she couldn’t let that through to the surface.

And just like that, he was turning around and walking out of the store, walking away from her as she watched him from the back as he left.

Both of their stomachs turned as they suddenly felt incomplete, like there was something left to do but now they’ll never have the chance to do it. It was crazy how before today they had never realised there was a hole in both of their lives to fill until it had been satisfied for the first time. Yet, their time together had been so brief in the bigger scheme of things.

Jake would not let that slide.

As he was halfway down the stairs something in his brain set off an alarm and she shot back up the stairs and back up to the desk, catching her just before she walked away.

What’s the worst that can happen?

What’s the best?

“Oh,” she turned and saw him again, slightly surprised, “did you leave something?”

“Yes,” he said very quickly. “No,” he threw in shortly after, shaking his head rather frantically, leaving her slightly confused and letting out a chuckle.

“Do you think I could…” he clenched his teeth and decided that he would regret not shooting his shot if he left now, so he told himself to just come out and say it.

“Do you think I could get your number?” he blurted out, a hopeful glint in his eyes that made her body react with a physical response.

But she couldn’t, this was her job, and she could get in a lot of trouble, even as the manager. “I-” she stuttered, not knowing what to say, and then took a breath. “I’m sorry but it would be wrong, I’m at work,” she sighed, and he could clearly see that’s not what she truly wanted either.

At least he had done it now and he wouldn’t have to live his life in wonder. “That’s alright,” he said half-heartedly, but trying his best to play it cool.

But he decided to try just once more.

“Uh,” he started again, making her gaze fix back on him. God, those eyes of hers - he had the feeling they could settle wars with just a glance if they let her. “What if I asked you after your shift?” he proposed, crossing his fingers behind his back, praying to whatever was out there that she would just say yes.

And as he asked again something within her screamed at her, ‘Just say yes!’, a doubt inside her was settled and happiness took its place, but she remained collected. She tried to stop the smile from rising on her lips, but as she spoke it was audible in her voice, “It would still be unprofessional,” she started and watched as his face dropped, so she quickly finished her sentence, “But… I get off at 7.”

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my first ever fic ! hope you guys enjoyed, comment if you wanna see part 2 i’ve already got it all planned out.

all requests taken in my bio !! xx

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[tragedybunny]

Astarion head cannon! If your tav has any artistic ability (or none and is learning) imagine if he found you drawing his face a bunch to try get a good image of him to share. Pre act 2 where he believes you actually love him and he loves you. Just seeing this person doing something purely for him confusing and scaring hin but feeling too nice to want to run from.

So I had to turn this into a little story, it was too good.

What The Heart Sees - Astarion x F!Reader

You've been acting suspicious and Astarion is going to get to the bottom of it.

You'd been acting ever so slightly strange around him. He hasn't put the pieces together yet, but Astarion knows something is going on with you. The thought fills him with a little dread, he's worked so hard to get you on his side, to have someone to keep the others from turning on him. Now it might all be slipping through his fingers. 

Whatever was happening, he needed to bring it to a halt and get you back to your regular sweet devotion to him. The first step was interrogating your companions. Lae'zel and Shadowheart of course saw nothing wrong with your behavior. "Maybe she just needs a rest from your fangs at her neck," Shadowheart snipped and Astarion considered giving her neck a try one night before stomping away. 

Gale and Karlach at least confirmed his suspicions. As usual Gale was too worried about exploding to be much help, but Karlach, dear Karlach tried to be helpful. "We're all going through a lot. Maybe she's just tired Fangs." So, there was something going on with you, but no one seemed to have any clue. Maybe the Mind Flayer transformation was actually happening just very slowly, he shuddered at the thought. 

This situation clearly called for some less wholesome tactics. Stealth and spying on you, for now, maybe violating your trust and rummaging through your stuff as well. That night he crept to your tent after everyone had retired, there was still the faint glow of a light spell illuminating it. His intent had been to stop and listen, see if could find an angle to glance in that wouldn’t expose himself. Quietly, he made it near the entrance, perfect, you were unawares. There was a book cradled in your lap. Perhaps you’d found some arcane knowledge you were unwilling to share. He hadn’t thought you were power hungry, but maybe he’d misjudged. Reaching over, you picked up a piece of charcoal. Interesting, he leaned forward. “Woof.” Scratch was on top of him, wagging his tail, and he was laying the dirt outside your tent. 

You jump up, clearly startled, and he wanted to gut the stupid beast. But he saw where you tucked that precious book as you leapt up. “Astarion!” You were standing at the opening of the tent, looking down at him with concern. 

“Hello my Sweet,” he tries his best to still somehow be charming while pushing Scratch off him. “I uh, saw you were up and wanted to check on you but Scratch is apparently in a playful mood.” 

“Oh Scratch! You haven’t had enough attention huh?’ You reach out to pet the mongrel and talk softly to him as Asatrion pushes himself out of the dirt. “I was just reading, sorry to disturb you.” 

“No worries Darling,” he gives you a perfunctory peck on the cheek before heading back to his tent. It was all working out anyway. 

The next night comes and he’s ready, Scratch has given him quite a bit of inspiration. Discreetly Astarion leads the heap of fur to the edge of the camp, the ball he had dragged in from somewhere tucked in a pocket. “Come here Scratch,” he hisses, waving it around, getting his attention before chucking it off into the woods. The animal follows excitedly. Astarion isn’t sure where it went and he doesn’t care. Scratch is more a rival for your attention than anything else anyway. 

After a couple of minutes he finds you at the campfire, blissfully unaware. “Has anyone seen Scratch,” he asks, as innocently as he can manage. 

“Oh no,” your eyes quickly scan the campsite, “he must have wandered off.” You seem so distressed, he almost feels guilty. But this is his survival on the line. “Maybe I should go look for him.” 

“Do take Halsin my Dear, he’ll have the best chance at tracking,” and one less person around camp to watch. 

“Right,” you nod, standing and trodding off to the Druid. 

No sooner are you gone then Astarion is creeping into your tent when no one is looking. No light needed, he sees everything perfectly, including the little pack you shoved your book in last night. Victory. He wrests it from the spot under your pillow and plops down on your blankets to study it. What forbidden knowledge rests inside. The worn cover flips open to…

Sketches, sketches of him specifically. Not that he remembers what he looks like, but the clothes give it away, along with the poses, moments he remembers. Him, you’ve been drawing him. He continues to flip through the book, more bits of him, frozen in time, and the technique improves. Why are you doing this? The mirror, he remembers, being upset about not seeing his reflection. 

Sitting there in stunned silence, he feels an unpleasant weight in his chest. No one has ever done anything like this for him before. It’s…kind. Not that you’ve ever been any other way to him ever. Gods, what is he even doing, maybe he should just…

“Astarion!” Slamming the book shut, he jumps up. “Hello Darling, I-”

“You ruined the surprise,” you scold, looking so dejected he somehow feels worse than he did a moment ago. 

“I’m sorry, I was curious. I saw you with it the other night. It’s amazing though,” he tries to placate, guilt an emotion he’s buried for so long, but fear is there as well. Fear he’s crossed a line you won’t tolerate. 

Bending down, you retrieve the book from where it landed. “I was hoping to get something I was pleased with to show you, but I suppose it will have to do for now.” 

“Really, you shouldn’t bother so much with it,” you look up at him so sadly he quickly adds, “you do too much for me already. But I do appreciate this gift.” Impulsively he pulls you close and kisses you quickly before letting you go. “Is this really what you see? 

“That and so much more.” The way you stare at him with adoration, the way you always treat him so sweetly, the way he suddenly wants nothing more than to stand here in this tent forever, basking in you, it’s all becoming too much, he could almost swear he had a pulse to hammer in his veins. Hells, what has he gotten himself into with you? 

[dancingbirdie]

Would you plz do a fic with Astarion when tav and the party looted a bunch of alcohol and take it back and drink it and celebrate at camp but tav gets a little drunk and astarion starts realising his feelings for them? 😳

I’d love astarion to take care of me after a few drinks 😂

Bless you anon, for gifting me this fic idea. It practically wrote itself and saved me from being bored all day at work. I hope you enjoy it!

A Night of Drinks and Realizations

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3,120

Warnings/Tags: Astarion x GN!Tav, minor act 1 spoilers, drinking, drunkenness, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, FLUFF! Non-sexual HEARTWARMING FLUFF!

Song Credit: The Galway Girl by Steve Earle (I do not own rights to the music, lyrics modified slightly to fit the fic)

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Chultan Fireswill tasted exactly as its name suggested - like the last charcoaled bits remaining in a dying campfire. But, Tav had to admit, it got the job done. It was as strong as horse piss on a hot day. They were absolutely soused from just half a bottle. Although, to be fair, Tav hadn’t been a heavy drinker in their past life, before all this illithid tadpole business had come about. Now? Well, they supposed they had much more reason to imbibe. 

Tav sat around the campfire with most of the others, enjoying spoils from the goblin camp the party had handily defeated - mostly due to the help that Halsin and Lump the Enlightened’s group had provided. They had yet to make it back to the Emerald Grove as Halsin had requested. Utterly spent from the fighting and fleeing, Tav and the rest of the party had opted instead to rest for the night in the blighted village on the outskirts of the goblin camp. At least there were semi-usable beds in some of the abandoned buildings. 

Shortly after setting up camp, Gale had retired early, eager to continue reading some of the dusty tomes he’d been collecting throughout their journey. Astarion had slunk off in search of something to satiate his thirst, leaving the rest of the group in various states of relaxation around the fire. It was a quiet, peaceful evening. Everyone seemed to be deep in their own thoughts, ruminating.

That was until Tav hiccupped loudly, breaking the thoughtful silence that had overtaken the party. Karlach guffawed at the sound, smacking her hands on her thighs.

“Tav’s absolutely PISSED, look at them!” she managed between cackles. The other party members turned to observe them, curious. They had all been running about, fighting, nonstop for the past few days. No one in the party had ever been well and truly drunk in front of the others. There just hadn’t been the time, or the relative safety, to be inebriated.

Tav blinked blearily at Karlach across the bonfire, trying to focus. “‘M not,” they garbled. “‘M perffc-ly fine.”

“Chk. Your tolerance for this weak slop is an embarrassment,” Lae’zel spat from her seat next to Tav. “Give me that,” she said as she grabbed the bottle from their hand, upturning it and consuming the rest of the foul liquid in one go. 

Tav smiled amiably and patted her on the knee. “You’re *hiccup* lovely. I forgive you *hiccup* for takin’ my drink.”

Lae’zel stared at them, eyes widened to the size of saucers. Wyll, Shadowheart, and Karlach were nearly bursting at the seams to keep from laughing openly. 

“I do not require your forgiveness, ska’keth,” she snapped. 

Tav just giggle-hiccupped and smiled again. Looking to the rest of the party, they put a hand to their mouth and stage-whispered, “she’s a little grumpy, that one.”

At this, they all laughed uproariously. Lae’zel rolled her eyes, reaching for another bottle of alcohol piled near the rest of the camp supplies.

“YOU-GUYS,” Tav suddenly shouted in a slur, tottering over to snatch up a new bottle of Chultan Fireswill. “We should have a party. Like, right now, have a party.” 

“FUCK YES!” Karlach cheered, chucking an empty mead bottle onto the ground with a resounding crash. “I’m all in, baby,” she said, reaching for an unopened bottle of Ithbank.

“Here, here,” Shadowheart echoed, raising her own bottle. “We could do with a bit of levity and foolishness, I think. Does anyone play an instrument? Some music would be lovely.”

“It’s been a few years but I believe I can still pluck a few tunes on the lyre. Let me give it a go,” Wyll replied, rummaging through his pack supplies to retrieve the instrument. 

Moments later, he began plucking a jovial tune that had everyone besides Lae’zel tapping their feet and nodding to the music. After it finished, he continued with a dancing jig Tav was familiar with from the taverns in Waterdeep, although most of the footwork eluded them in their drunken state. 

“Where’s Gale and Astarion?” Tav shouted in a sing-song voice, twirling around in a laughable attempt at dancing. “Wake their asses up and tell them we’re having a party!” 

“No need for ass-waking, at least for me,” Gale called, joining the party from the direction of one of the abandoned houses. “No one can get an ounce of sleep with you lot frolicking around the fire.” 

“GALE!” Tav shrieked as they dance-skipped over to him, tripping slightly and smashing into his chest. “You made it!”

Chivalrous as ever, the wizard kindly grabbed Tav’s arms to keep them upright and restore some semblance of balance to their swaying form. “Quite literally impossible to miss it, Tav. Your voice carries extraordinarily well,” he replied, chuckling.

Tav gave him a rueful smile. “I drank, jus’ a lil’,” they explained. 

At this, his face broke into a wide grin. “I can certainly see that. Looks like I’ve got a lot of catching up to do if I'm to match the rest of you!” 

He guided Tav over to where Shadowheart was sitting, delicately perched on an old traveler’s trunk near the fire. “Perhaps stay here while I go peruse our stockpile.” 

Tav plopped down unceremoniously next to Shadowheart, who quirked a smile. “Enjoying ourselves are we?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” Tav sighed out. “Although it would be even better if Astarion joined us. Where IS he?” they asked, swiveling their head around the village square, hoping to spot his telltale white blonde locks. 

“I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually. Maybe he caught himself a big bear and is drinking it dry,” Shadowheart said teasingly.

Tav nodded seriously, “He deserves the biggest bear, ever,” they said, absolutely failing to notice the joke. 

Shadowheart scoffed. “Lovesick, little pup?” 

Tav giggled, abruptly hiccupped, and then giggled again at that. 

“He’s just beautiful,” they finally replied in a dreamy sort of voice. 

And then, “Inside and out,” they added, more softly.

Shadowheart threw her head back with a laugh. “Oh gods! You really are lovesick.”

Tav hummed happily. “I think I am, but - OH MY GODS!”

“What?” Shadowheart shouted, startled and peering about to assess the apparently impending danger. 

“I LOVE THIS SONG!” Tav shrieked, jumping to their feet and swaying about once more as Wyll began playing another lively tune. 

Confession utterly forgotten, they were lost to the strumming of the lyre, spinning like a top that might never stop. 

************************************************************************

Astarion had not planned to eavesdrop on the conversation between Tav and Shadowheart as he made his way back toward the camp. Truly, he hadn’t. But, at the mention of his name from Tav, he couldn’t help but wonder what the conversation was about. 

Stepping quietly around the corner of the decrepit tavern, he paused to listen. His heightened senses easily picked up on their voices as clear as if he would be standing next to them. 

Tav had… feelings for him? Astarion didn’t know what to do with this information. Why were they admitting this so openly? And to a person they barely knew? Was this a ploy? Was Tav banking on him hearing this supposed confession and trying to lull him into some false sense of security? The paranoid part of his mind was absolutely convinced of it.

But no, surely that couldn’t be it, another more reasonable part of his brain asserted. Lost in his thoughts, he observed Tav whirling about the campfire with their bottle of booze spilling out. They accidentally doused Lae’zel with a spurt of liquid, causing the Githyanki to swear loudly and move to the other side of the campfire. 

Astarion huffed a laugh. No, Tav was… many things… but devious was not one of them. He had observed them enough throughout their travels the last few days and had come to the conclusion that Tav was as harmless as a week-old pup to those they liked and trusted. They were genuine, transparent, and… open… to his utter confusion. And, okay yes, his considerable annoyance. 

But Astarion was truly hard-pressed to remain annoyed at Tav for long. They were just so gods-damned pure. As pure as the sun’s rays. Being annoyed with them was like being annoyed at the sun for existing. It couldn’t help what it was. Tav couldn’t help who they were. It would be a mistake, a waste of time, to despise them for their nature. 

He envied them for that. But above all else, if he were being totally honest with himself, he craved their attention just as much as he relished the actual sunbeams he’d been able to feel on his skin for the first time in over 200 years. 

But still, Astarion had no idea how to process this revelation, that the-pure-sun-incarnate-Tav had love for him. Love. Not merely lust, desire, or attraction. Now those he was familiar with.  Those had been a currency he’d transacted on Cazador’s behalf for so many years. But love? Love was an unknown concept to him. It had never been something he’d tried to cultivate in the minds of his victims. Astarion wasn’t even sure he understood what love actually was.  

A series of loud bangs startled him from his circling thoughts. He looked up and chuckled at the sight he beheld.

Tav had found several scrolls of minor illusion in Gale’s packs and had begun to set off fireworks. Bright green, pink, and yellow sparks were careening into the sky, exploding into images of flowers and pixies to the utter delight of Tav. The rest of the party were loitering about, laughing at Tav as they clapped their hands in joy. 

Seeing as this would perhaps be the best time to integrate himself into the party, Astarion strolled toward the campfire. Grabbing a bottle of some cheap swill they’d looted, he took a seat beside Shadowheart and nodded in a cheers sort of motion to the cleric. She raised her bottle in acknowledgement. 

“Come to watch the wonder that is Tav utterly debauched?” she quipped.

“I must say, I rather like them like this, all uninhibited and bawdy” he replied, his eyes following Tav as they danced and gyrated their way over to Wyll, who was plucking out another familiar tavern tune.  

“Wyll, do you know the song ‘The Amphail Girl’?” Tav asked too loudly, hiccupping.

“I do, but gods Tav, I don’t know that I’ve ever tried playing it,” Will admitted.

“Okay, okay,” Tav sighed in a mock-morose tone, stopping Wyll from playing by placing a hand on the lyre strings. “Then you must pass the lyre my friend and be ready to take some *hiccup* notes.”

Wyll, ever the good sport of the group, obliged Tav’s demand and relinquished the instrument. 

Astarion chuckled. “Oh, dear. They’re not about to actually put on a performance, are they?” he asked in a somewhat-rhetorical question toward Shadowheart.

She chuckled. “It appears so. Liquid courage really does wonders, it seems.”

They both watched as Tav began plucking at the strings of the lyre until they stitched together the right tune. After a few beats of strumming, they began to sing.

“I took a stroll down the old long walk

Of the day I-ay-I-ay

I met a little girl and we stopped to talk

Of a fine soft day I-ay

And I ask you friends, what's a fella to do?

Because her hair was black and her eyes were blue

And I knew right then I been takin' a whirl

Down the Salthill Prom with an Amphail girl”

The entire party watched, enraptured, as Tav sang the lyrics in a beautiful, high tenor voice. Their hands never missed a chord, performing as though they knew the song by heart. 

“Did you cast Guidance on them?” Astarion whispered to Shadowheart, as Tav strummed the bridge of the song. 

“No, I haven’t touched my magic since this afternoon,” she replied. “This is all Tav. Shocking, considering how inebriated they are.”

It seemed the rest of the party members were in equal disbelief that their drunken compatriot could perform so flawlessly. Tav continued the song, smiling as they sang, eyes closed and blissfully unaware of the stares they had garnered. 

“We were halfway there when the rain came down

On the day I-ay-I-ay

She asked me up to her flat downtown

On a fine soft day I-ay

And I ask you friends, what's a fella to do?

Because her hair was black and her eyes were blue

So I took her hand, and I gave her a twirl

Oh, and I lost my heart to an Amphail Girl”

And the longer Tav sang, the longer Astarion realized there were cracks now forming in his long-held aloof façade. There they were, singing with their heart and soul, radiating unobtrusive joy. Astarion was enamored by Tav’s utter lack of pretense. He couldn’t take his eyes off them, even if he had wanted to.

“When I woke up I was all alone

With a broken heart and a ticket home

And I ask you now, tell me what would you do?

If her hair was black and her eyes were blue

'Cause I've travelled around, I've been all over this world

Boys, I've never seen nothin' like an Amphail girl”

Tav concluded the song with a final series of strums. They opened their eyes slowly and looked around curiously at the party, as though they had forgotten where they had been before the song began. Astarion thought they had an almost ethereal look in their eyes. Everyone had grown quiet, the meaningful pause leading them toward more introspective thoughts.

Of course, that was before Tav doubled over and hurled the contents of their stomach on the ground. In a blink, that otherworldly moment was gone, and the party members groaned at the mess of ick now puddling in the center of their circle. 

Tav wobbled on their feet, very nearly careening to the ground. 

Strong arms caught them about the waist before they collapsed. 

“Now, now darling, the fun is truly over, it seems. Let’s get you to bed, shall we?” Astarion coaxed, leading Tav toward the tavern. 

“You alright taking care of them, then?” Karlach called after him and Tav. 

“Yes, yes, I can keep the pup from choking on their vomit,” Astarion promised.

“And make sure they drink plenty of water!” Shadowheart added.

“Astarion?” Tav mumbled, seeming to finally come to, blinking up at the pale elf’s face. 

“Yes, darling, I’ve got you,” he murmured, an arm wrapped solidly around Tav’s waist. 

“Oh good. Did you get a beat grig bear? Oops,” Tav chuckled, grinning. “I meant a great… big… bear. Shadowheart *hiccup* said you would.”

Astarion didn’t have a bloody clue as to what Tav was talking about, but he nodded along, charmed by their innocent look of excitement.

“We should drink to celebrate!” they said suddenly. 

Astarion well and truly laughed. “No, my dear, I think we’ve both done enough drinking for the night,” he responded. 

Tav sighed. “I suppose you could be right,” they grumbled.

The two fell into a companionable silence. Astarion carefully walked Tav up the steps of the tavern and guided them toward an old boarding room near the back. There was a bed there, mostly left untouched by grime and pests. In any case, it was a more favorable alternative to sleeping on the ground.

Gently, Astarion pushed Tav to sit down on the edge of the bed. Crouching to his knees, he began pulling their boots off their feet. Tav watched in a daze before lifting a hand to cup Astarion’s cheek. 

Concentrating on the laces of Tav’s boots, he hadn’t been expecting their touch. He jumped slightly in surprise. Casual touches were not something he was used to. 

At his response, Tav removed their hand from his skin but kept it floating there in the air, as if unsure what to do. 

“Sorry,” they murmured. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Astarion held their gaze, pondering them thoughtfully. After a moment, he took Tav’s hand and returned it to his cheek. 

“It’s all right,” he said quietly. “I’m beginning not to mind those touches from you.”

Tav gave him a sleepy smile. “Thank you, Astarion,” they whispered and began to slump over onto the bed. 

“No no, not yet you don’t,” Astarion said hastily, rising to his feet and walking over to fetch a carafe of water from his pack. 

“Here. Drink all of this,” he said, extending the bottle to Tav.

“I don’t want water,” they said, frowning. 

“Trust me, darling, you’ll thank me for it in the morning,” Astarion chuckled. 

Tav gave a sullen huff. “Fine, but only because you asked.”

They downed the carafe in a couple of drinks before collapsing back onto the bed. 

Satisfied that Tav wouldn’t perish from alcohol poisoning - at least not tonight - Astarion made to leave the room. A quiet voice gave him pause just as he was about to cross the threshold. 

“Could you stay with me, please?” Tav whispered, watching Astarion through half-closed eyes. 

Astarion balked inwardly. Staying in the same bed with Tav would mean something. To Tav. To him. Was he prepared for that? What would Tav expect from him then, in the days that followed? Was this a step toward some kind of commitment? Did he want that?

As the seconds ticked by, he watched Tav’s eyelids close completely. They may not have even been aware that they had uttered that request aloud. They certainly weren’t aware of the effect it had on Astarion. He could just as easily pretend not to have heard them and walk out the door, leaving things as they were between them now: a curious potential.

But watching Tav’s chest slowly rise and fall with peaceful breaths, Astarion felt that craving again. The desire to be in the warm sun. To be touched by the sun’s rays. 

Fears be damned, he thought. At least for tonight. He could have this moment, he reasoned. He could have this one night. 

And, climbing into bed next to Tav, a part of him thrilled at the way their body turned and curled into his. The complete and total trust they had in him, that he wouldn’t harm them. That he - Astarion - was a safe harbor in which they could rest. 

The realization was too much to take in. So foreign. His mind couldn’t make sense of it. 

But, as he lay there in the quiet, his hand gently brushing Tav’s locks back from their forehead, listening to their even breaths, Astarion knew one thing. Whatever this new feeling was that Tav was drawing out of him? He wanted more than just a few stolen moments of it.

[viviennevermillion]

My boyo. He's so adorable but SOOOO deranged it's not even funny. Like how do you work for human traffickers to make up for your inescapable poverty, use your magic to turn people into puppets to sell, enchant them to participate in a whimsical musical number for no reason but your own personal amusement, tell the terrified victims over loudspeaker how shit you think they are, let yourself be enraged by a bunch of sassy high schoolers and then decide by the end of the day, to quote my dear friend Azul Ashengrotto, I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!! How does one go from trafficking children to wanting to found a school for magicless children in the span of 24 hours. How do you manage to escape a probably exploitative work contract AND steal your bosses' property in the span of 24 hours with nothing but 1 madol and a dream? How's he going to fund this school? He apparently has to be worried about getting enough to eat. How do you just go "you're right, no more trafficking children, from now on I'm gonna commit to the good of humanity :)"

His lesson from the whole thing was "actually schools are good!" rather than "wow I feel so bad for all the people I probably sold :/"

There is not a sane bone in his body and no rational thought in his brain. His thoughts probably contain so much cursing that the sentences are unintelligible when you censor them. Everytime he speaks to a person he doesn't like, he internally adds "you mediocre little fuckshit pissbabies" or similar to the end of the statements. He has the most deranged evil laugh ever. Even when he likes you and you tell him a funny joke he goes "hehehahahaaAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAH" like he's about to kill someone. He likes having his little ears scratched. He bites though.

He's like the biggest asshole cat you can mentally picture. He doesn't just push stuff off your shelves, he takes the vases and chucks them at unsuspecting pedestrians. He's mad at you and you ask him for a glass of milk and he takes the milk carton out of the fridge and pours the entire thing all over the floor and kitchen counters without breaking eye contact. There's a collection of knives on his bedroom wall.

He's my special little guy. They want to study him to update the DSM-5. He eats the rich. He needs some money to found his little school so he gotta work in retail, scanning the customers' products at checkout and muttering "fucking bourgeoisie cockroach" under his breath. Shamelessly lists "amusement park manager" and "salesman" in his CV as if he worked at a legitimate business. He once had a mental breakdown at the grocery store after closing hour and downed a bottle of whiskey straight from the shelf and then danced through the snack aisle stabbing his cane into the chips bags out of boredom while singing "you're never fully dressed without a smile". Gidel being mute is the only reason this kid does not curse like an uncensored Rapper version of Ebenezer Scrooge.

He's clinically insane. He's the most wondrous attraction at Playful Land. He hopes the afterlife is a musical. He's Fellow Honest. This is a fake name.

[yxngbxkkie]

i had the craziest hurt-comfort idea omg! thought maybe you’d be interested

so like chan and mc broke up. but they keep showing up at each other’s place to return things. like first it’s her showing up unannounced to give him his hoodie (that he left on purpose for her as a parting gift). and she accidentally maybe leaves her airpods at his place. and then he shows up to return them to her. and the next day she’s like “oh i found this random notebook that you haven’t used, but i thought maybe you wanted it back”

and like both of them know they’re just finding excuses bc they don’t really want to let go. and are looking for excuses to see each other instead of just having a conversation about how they want to keep working on their relationship. but neither of them want to admit it because they’re both scared the other is done. and it’s like ironic because a lack of communication is what caused their relationship to break down.

idk i just thought it was the perfect angst-to-fluff story, if you wanna write it 🤗

not ready for goodbyes (b.c)

thank you so much for requesting this! i really loved the idea, and i do hope i've captured it justice! let me know what you guys think 🤭🤧

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

It's been almost three weeks since the breakup. Three weeks of crying yourself to sleep, wondering what went wrong. You stand in your bedroom, staring down at the hoodie Chan left here. Your vision blurs as tears begin to pool. You tilt your head up, blinking rapidly so the tears don't fall.

You bunch up the hoodie quickly, stuffing it into a plastic bag. You decided to bring it back to him. The memories it brings are starting to become too much for you.

After taking a cab over to Chan's apartment building, you find yourself standing outside of his door. Your fingers fumble with the bag in your hands, taking a deep breath. You raise a fist, preparing yourself to knock when the door opens up.

Both yours and Chan's eyes widen as soon as they meet. You give him a shy wave before dropping your arm. “Hi,” you greet him and lift the bag in your hands. “Uhm, you left this at my place. And, I know it was your favorite.”

Chan's eyes drift down to the bag, seeing his hoodie sitting inside of it. “Oh,” his lips frown, pushing the bag back to you. “I wanted you to keep it.”

“Why? I… I can't keep this, Chan,” you're confused, shaking your head. “It's been almost a month, and I can't move on if this is around. It hurts too much to have.”

He swallows the lump in his throat, not wanting you to move on from him. He knows it's selfish to think, but he can't help it. Especially since he's still in love with you.

“There's no way I can convince you to just keep it,” he mumbles sadly, touching the bag with his fingertips.

“Is there a reason you won't take it back?” You ask in a whisper, loud enough for him to hear. You watch Chan's demeanor change, his dark eyes becoming glossy.

“I just… I don't want you to forget me. Us,” he mentions while bringing a hand to his face, scratching his nose.

Your heart clenches in your chest, tearing your gaze away from him. “If you didn't want me to forget, you wouldn't have left me,” you tell him, giving him the bag. “I hope life treats you well, Channie.”

He stands still as he watches you leave. Tears slipped past his eyes, looking down at the hoodie. He grips the bag tightly, chucking it further into his apartment.

Guilt eats him alive as he closes his door. He rests his forehead on it, releasing a deep, shaky breath. The only reason why he let you go is because of the company. He didn't get a choice in the matter.

“Chan hyung?” Jisung's voice, snapping Chan from his thoughts. He turns to see his younger friend standing near the couch, his brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he lies, faking a smile. “I'm going to go to the studio for a bit, okay?” Jisung nods his head, knowing that his leader is lying to him.

~

You wipe the tears from your cheeks, keeping your eyes glued to your television screen. It's been a few days since your last interaction with Chan. You hate that giving him back his hoodie didn't stop the memories in the slightest.

Almost every night before bed, you think of the past two years together. You think about how happy the two of you were. How did we get here?

The rain loudly patters against your window, making you look over. You stand up from your couch, walking over to the window. The city lights have you in awe, always loving the way it looked at night.

Your doorbell goes off, snapping you from your daze. You glance over your shoulder, not expecting anyone at this hour. It goes off again, and you quietly make your way to your front door.

You open the door, and your heart stops for a hot second. Chan stands on the other side, soaked, head to toe. “Chan, what are–”

“Can I come in, please?” He asks, lips shivering at how cold he is.

“Yeah, yeah, come in,” you mumble, not really thinking. You open the door further, allowing your ex-boyfriend to come inside. You rush towards your room, grabbing your brother's night clothes, which he left behind. You bring it out to him, offering to dry his clothes for him.

Chan’s breath catches in his throat, eyeing the men's clothing you're holding. Whose are these? Are you seeing someone? He thinks to himself, grabbing the clothes from your hand.

“Eunwoo visited the other day,” you tell him, hugging yourself. “You remember my older brother, right?”

“Of course I remember,” he mutters, relieved that they belong to him. “Let me get changed real quick.”

You nod your head, moving to sit back on the couch after tossing his clothes into the dryer. You pause the movie you're watching, not believing that Chan's in your apartment right now.

You tuck some hair behind your ears as Chan walks back into the living room. He sits down on the couch beside you, an object in his hands.

“Why are you here?” You ask him, tucking your knees into your chest.

Chan turns his head to look at you, holding out your headphones. “I found these the other day. They were at the studio. You must've left them the last time you visited,” he explains, keeping eye contact with you.

“I never realized I left them there. I'm sorry,” you mumble, taking your headphones from his hand. Silence fills the space between you, both of you refusing to look at one another.

“It's okay. I'm sorry I didn't return them sooner,” he mentions, shifting in his seat.

You shake your head, giving the man a small smile. “It's okay. Especially if I didn't even realize that they were missing,” you chuckle, playing with your fingers.

Chan breathes a sigh of relief, sitting back against the couch. “Okay, good,” he glances towards you, admiring your soft features. Shit… “You're so pretty.”

Your breath hitches, and you snap your head towards him. His eyes widened, and the tips of his ears were red. “I'm sorry?” You mutter nervously, feeling your heart pound against your chest.

“God, I'm so sorry,” Chan cringes, hiding his face in his hands. He rubs his face a couple of times before running his fingers through his hair. “I'm sorry I can't just leave your life. I wish you didn't return the hoodie to me. I don't want to be apart.”

You feel like you've got whiplash as your ex rambles beside you. You can see the tears in his eyes as he continues to tell you that he's sorry. You bring a hand to his chest, capturing his attention. You slowly rub his chest, wanting his racing heart to calm down.

“One thing at a time,” you tell him. He nods his head as you shift closer to him. “If you didn't want to be apart, why did you leave?”

Chan reaches out to grab the hand on his chest, squeezing it softly. “The company made me,” he whispers loud enough for you to hear.

Your heart breaks at what he said, a frown etching its way on your lips. “Really? That's the reason? It's not because you don't love me anymore?” You ask him, bringing your conjoined hands to your lap.

“I've never stopped loving you, baby. There will never be a time when I don't love you. You make me so happy, Y/N. I… I wanted to marry you,” he cries, licking his dry lips.

Tears slide down your cheeks, trying to wrap your head around the new information. “You wanted to marry me?” You ask, your free hand picking at the shirt he's wearing.

Chan releases your hand before cupping your cheeks. His thumbs wipe your tears as the two of you stare at one another. “Of course I did, baby. You're my person, you know? I'm so in love with you. I don't want anyone but you,” he sighs, caressing your cheek. “I'm sorry for causing you pain.”

“Maybe,” you pause, leaning in closer while melting at his touch, “maybe we can get back together when your company allows it?”

His eyes search yours, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. “I can't ask you to wait for me. You don't deserve that,” Chan shakes his head.

“If losing you now allows me to have you in the future, I'll do it. I don't want anyone else, Chan. I just want you,” you reason with him, moving your body to straddle his hips.

Chan swallows thickly, adjusting his body so you're both comfortable. He pursed his lips while taking you in. Your hands gently rub his pecs, making his head spin a little.

“Maybe we can see each other behind closed doors,” he offers a new idea, his hands resting on your thighs.

Your heart beats wildly. “You'd do that?” You ask him, knowing the consequences that'll happen if you get caught. “What if we get caught?”

“We won't. I'm very good at keeping secrets,” he mentions with a smirk. You know he's not wrong. Being the leader of Stray Kids has sculpted his secret keeping skills. Chan sits up, reducing the distance between you. “What do you say?”

Your fingers comb through his hair, resisting the urge to kiss him. “I think I can do that. We'll just have to set some boundaries for the public,” you nod your head, nudging his nose with yours.

“Done deal, baby,” he grins, tilting his head a smidge to kiss you.

The kiss doesn't last very long. You pull back before wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “I missed you,” you whisper into his ear, sniffling. Knowing that Chan can officially but unofficially yours makes you cry a bit. “I love you.”

Chan coos, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I missed you too, baby. You have no idea,” he sighs, pulling back to look at you. “I love you too, Y/N.”

You press a chaste kiss on his lips and smile fondly. “Stay with me tonight?” You ask, wanting just a little more time with him.

“I'm all yours.”

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[essycogany]

Rare But Not So Rare Sonic Moments. Character Analysis.

Crying

A weird topic I’m more then happy to discuss.

Mandate: “Sonic’s not allowed to get overly emotional.”

I’m starting to think the mandates do break in a few instances. This one specifically is something I’m quite interested in because this is probably one of the rarest emotions Sonic displays. Getting sad/emotional.

Hopefully this essay will be a positive outlook on the mandate.

(Despite being a discussion about negative emotions.)

Examples Of Sonic Getting Emotional

I might not include everything, but the examples I have knowledge of will be stated. If you have anymore examples, I’d love to see them.

SATAM: Sonic cried when he and the Freedomfighters had to leave his Uncle Chuck in Robotnik’s lab.

Archie: The times Sonic cried/teared up was when the weight of a situation got to him, when something tragic occurred and all hope was lost, or when he was filled with joy after those instances ended. Those moments like others, didn’t go too far. (For the most part)

Pretty sure he never out right sobbed.

Underground: I think Sonic only cried when he was a little kid.

Correct me if I’m wrong.

X: In episode 52 Sonic allowed his tears to shed with his head turned away from us. He and Chris ran one last time before Sonic left through a portal to go home forever. It obviously crushed him even if we didn’t see his face.

Boom: Sonic cried/teared up in two episodes of the show. First when Tails was reminiscing about the Tornado and noticed Sonic wiping his eyes. Sonic replied, “What?” Then he, Knuckles, and Tails all cried when they thought the baby they took care of was gone. Also, in Archie when Stick’s rock friend broke or “Died,” everyone in team Boom morned it. Sonic included.

IDW: Sonic shed tears in the Scrapnick Island Issue. Even if it was “Mecha Sonic’s” tears I’ll count it anyways because it’s a good loophole and it came out of Sonic’s eyes.

Movie 1: It’s implied he indeed cried during the baseball scene. The sources being a deleted scene and story-board of the film.

Prime: This doesn’t really count, but Sonic teared up in the first episode when he was held captive by the Chaos Council and had light blasted in his eyes, when he was in darkness. Then Sonic actually cried in episode 7 when he ate a seadog. Either because he was home-sick or starving.

(In the last episode of season two it’s implied he might cry in the next episode. Especially with the shot of him looking on the verge of tears and then covered his eyes in the background of the last shot, but we’ll see.)

By the way. You can see the instant improvement from episode 1 to 7 of the tears animation. Just thought I’d say that.

My Overall Thoughts

Hold on because this is going to be a long ride.

First thing I’d like to discuss is the mandate itself.

I personally don’t believe it means, “Sonic shouldn’t cry.”

(Which has been stated a bunch)

If that were the case, I don’t think this majority of moments (specifically the recent ones) would’ve happened. I think the mandate meant Sonic couldn’t and or shouldn’t go too far with his emotions. I don’t think the mandate existing makes any since, but I won’t get into that.

My point is, Sonic can cry, just not in an overly dramatized way unless it’s done for comedic purposes.

(I say that because of Sonic Boom and the 7th episode of Prime examples. Which are obviously not meant to be taken seriously)

My opinions on Sonic crying.

It’s not necessarily needed, but I don’t mind if it’s done well. I do believe Sonic shouldn’t go too far unless the situation does.

One Issue in Archie when Sonic’s entire life was basically ruined, is a good example. If you’re going to have such calamities happen to him, especially since he has zero ego or mask to hold onto, I think it’s a fair enough scenario for him to react as drastic as his misfortune.

But I believe if he were to cry in something like the Metal Virus. (Just for an example) it could be like how Espio teared up after Vector’s sacrifice.

Crazy idea. Let’s talk about Shadow for a minute.

Shadow is one of the most stoic characters in the entire franchise. He barely smiles, gets excited, or displays any overly positive emotions. While Sonic rarely cries, gets angry, or shows any harsh negative emotions. Shadow and Sonic are opposites because of that.

Sonic’s overall a positive and outgoing guy who wants to keep moving forward. Whenever he has the time to worry, he runs. Faces his problems head on. Sonic only let’s a small amount of his true emotions out when helping someone else. In general Sonic’s a pretty optimistic character.

Shadow on the other hand is a reserved and serious guy. Who wants what’s best for the world too, but in a more calculated and planned out manner. But for some reason, in Sonic Adventure 2 after Amy encouraged Shadow to save the world, (Which reminded him of Maria’s real wish) He sheds a tear.

I repeat. Shadow is the most stoic character in the entire franchise. Who rarely shows his emotions. And yet he cries.

Why can’t Sonic? To be fair, Sonic usually doesn’t have time to think, let alone worry about how he feels. But if Shadow himself can have a short moment of releasing his emotional baggage, why can’t the blue blur?

Is Sonic even as happy as he let’s on?

I’d say he’s genuinely happy half of the time. Then the other half Sonic’s internalizing everything negative in him. Everyone knows Sonic’s overall upbeat, but we’ve seen plenty of times (In the Metal Virus specifically) when he’s thinking, or enduring the chaos around him, he doubts himself. Sonic has these insecurities and emotions he barely let’s anyone see.

Besides Issue #24

Even in Sonic Prime while Sonic shows the most guilt, sincerity, anger, fear, and sadness in the show. He sometimes still puts on a front and acts like everything’s fine.

Sonic Unleashed I’m pretty sure was the first and only time we’ve seen him mope for a minute. All because Amy didn’t know who he was. So, he does have some level of insecurities lingering every once in a while.

Can Sonic crying even work?

How I interpret him crying is when he’s alone. Some people theorize in certain instances like SA2 and Unleashed with Shadow and Chip’s sacrifices, he cried a little. I’m fascinated by this idea. I believe it’s the most in character way to let him cry. Maybe even something like X when his face isn’t shown, but you know how he’s feeling.

Even if we do see Sonic’s face, him crying or tearing up could be shown without being over the top. Normalize it in a way that doesn’t fly off the handle. His expression could have a hint of frustration, anger, or exhaustion. Crying is normal and I don’t see Sonic crying as out of character because it’s been done plenty of times.

It’d be nice if it happened in order to make Sonic feel more believable and sympathetic. As long as the dude’s not on the floor whaling, I’m sure it can work.

Final Thoughts

There are other ways to show Sonic’s emotions. Again, crying doesn’t have to happen, but it does help the writing feel less unnecessarily limited of what kind of emotions can be displayed on this character.

Though there are benefits too. Like finding fun loopholes or small animated details like in IDW and Prime. Sonic not crying so much makes the times he does (or may do in the future) feel earned and impactful. The examples before prove it can be done without taking away what makes Sonic who he is. It just needs to be subtle, quiet, and quick. (Or humorous) Depends on what you think.

At the end of it all, Sonic’s a tough hedgehog. Him shedding a few tears won’t ever change that.

Stay Creative! 💜

[mintmatcha]

tw: cheating accusation

"Are you fucking her?"

Katsuki stands. With a slow, deliberate movement, he places both hands on the table and leans forward, those vermilion eyes finding yours in an unblinking stare.

"You wanna repeat that?" his lip arches in disgust, "Because I'm pretty sure I misheard you."

Your heart beat buzzes across your skin. Anxiety eats at you, but the anger and pain pushes you forward. "Are you fucking her?" 

Bakugo doesn't move, but the vein on his jaw grows more defined as he grinds his teeth together. "Why would you ask me that?"

"You're not saying no."

"Holy shit." He pushes away from the table, pacing over to the sink with his hands tangled in his hair, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

You stay frozen in the doorway, arms folded over yourself. The pressure quells the seasick feeling that’s building in your stomach. "Just say yes or no!"

"Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding?" He grinds out. His hair is still damp from the bath, those distinct spikes plastered against his forehead. It’s barely dark, but he’s already ready for bed, dressed in only an undershirt and his boxer briefs. It’s the Katsuki that only you know- the human behind the hero. “Are you kidding?”

At least, you thought you were the only one who knew him like that.

“That's not a no."

 "No! No! I'm not fucking cheating on you!" Bakugo laughs, sharp and pained. "Holy shit, I don’t even know what brought this up."

You practically throw his bag onto the table. It almost slides off the other side from the force, the open zipper gapping and threatening to spill its contents.

 "Mai dropped off your gym bag." you say her name like it’s a swear. It sticks to your tongue and mind like tar, staining it.

“That's what this is about? Mai?" Bakugo scoffs with a roll of his eyes, the tension in his shoulders suddenly relaxing. You hate how he says it. Mai, Mai, Mai- like she’s something to him. "She's a personal assistant, of course she drops by the house. You’re being crazy." 

You reach inside the side pocket and pull out your discovery; a pink, lace trimmed thong hangs from your finger, a damp patch staining the crotch. It’s hard to hide your pain with disgust as the tears you’ve been holding back start to burn, gathering at the corners of your eyes. His face falls, eyes and mouth wide as he processes exactly what you’re accusing. He starts to talk, then falls abruptly silent, eyes locked on the tiny piece of fabric. The silence aches, filling you with more doubts and worries with every passing second.

Surely he’s coming up with a lie. Surely, he’s thinking of how to hide his indiscretions-  

“I’ve never seen those before.” Bakugo says after a long moment. The look on his face could either be annoyance or sadness- you’re not sure.

“Bullshit! They didn’t just walk there!” The tremble in your voice threatens to turn into sobbing. You ball the fabric up and chuck it at him, watching it bounce off his chest. Bakugo flinches at it, grimacing at the touch-- as if he didn’t touch the woman that owns them, as if he hasn’t seen what belongs underneath,  “You’re fucking her!”

“Oh my god, I’m not having sex with anyone but you!”  he rubs his face over and over, smushing his cheeks, like he’s trying to numb a headache, but the wetness betrays him. Bakugo wipes away the tears furiously, until the skin turns red. “If you’d just fucking calm down and listen-”

“Calm down? Me?”

“Listen!”

“I found out my husband’s fucking an eighteen year old- how am I supposed to be calm?”

"I’m not!”

“Fuck you!”

The despair in him breaks, replaced by a more familiar fury.

“How the fuck can I prove it to you?" Bakugo's hands are bunched tight enough that his fists shake from their own force, stepping closer and closer, closing the gap between you. "Fire all the women on my staff?"

"No!" Your back hits the wall. He's so close and yet you can't stop yelling, the volume cracking your voice, "Of course not!

"Never be alone with another woman? Put a fucking GSP tracker in in my arm? Tattoo your name on my cock?" 

Your faces are inches away from each other, noses practically touching as you scream, "I just don't want you to stick your dick in your assistant!"

The thick, hollow crack has you jumping before you can process what happened.

 For a moment, you think you've been struck deaf; the room goes silent, drowned out with the rhythmic woosh of blood in your ears. Bakugo's face, the only thing you can truly focus on in that moment, shifts from anger to fear, jaw dropping every so slightly. You follow suit as you realize your husband's fist has just punched through the drywall beside you. Bits of white powder drop from his sleeve and onto your shoulder as he pulls back; he watches his limb as if it's not a part of him, like he had no control over it moments ago.

"I-" he whispers with a delicacy you didn't think possible, "I didn't cheat on you.”

Neither of you move. A thin cut on his knuckle begins to blossom with pinpricks of blood, the broken skin slowly filling with crimson until it begins to drip down to his fingers. At first, when your awareness of the room completely returns, you think he’s panting, breath ripping so roughly out of his lungs that it echoes in your mind, but Bakugo is still. He waits with bated breath, watching you suck in breath after breath so fast that your head swims.

“You’re the goddamn love of my life and I’m not going to risk that for some skank.” The shine of his eyes matches yours. His eyebrows bunch together, knitted with confusion and worry. His lips are permanently turned down on one side, pulled there by a thin scar from cheekbone to jaw, but now they tremble into a straight line. “I don’t know what’s going on but, I- I really didn’t touch her.”

He waits for a moment. “I didn’t.”

His voice is strained, resigned, broken.

“Okay.” you whisper. 

“Okay?” he repeats. That bloody hand reaches for you, brushes away a tear you didn’t know had fallen. “You believe me?”

You shrug, pulling away from his touch. The suspicion that these hands have touched another still makes your stomach sour. “ I don’t know.”  

“That’s-”  he inhales sharply, “Progress, I guess.”

Nothing is resolved as you separate from each other. Nothing changes when you both go on with your routine in silence, barely skirting around each other.

Against your better judgment, you sleep by his side. The feeling of that hand on your waist, scab not quite fully formed, makes the tears start again.

[bahrtofane]

here we go again - pt.2

pt.1, pt.3

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again. but, a familair face is here to save the day

word count - 2.2k+

watch it - jude is still an ass sorrehhh. angsy angst and more angst ! ur welcome

-----

You don't know where the hell you are, what time it is. A few more minutes you're going to forget your own name and start screaming to feel something other than misery. So  much for the holiday of love. You are feeling so much love you could jump out of a plane. With no parachute. And land on a pile of rocks. 

You kick a trash can out of frustration and groan at the impact it gives your poor exposed and suffering toes. 

You can not believe the events of today. Everything keeps replaying over and over like a broken projector. The fact that he got you to dress up in your favorite special occasion floor length dress just to have it drag across the grimy dirty fucking disgusting club floor. Oh god you want him dead. 

You're deep into Birmingham nightlife by the time your senses come back to you enough to fish your phone out of your bag. The bag is a birthday gift from your mother of all people forced to be seen among that bunch of people,it makes you seeth. 

You should have known taking you to Birmingham wasn't a good idea. It made no sense in your head, why fly from Madrid to god damn Birmingham. You both live and work in Madrid? Your sweet naive mind thought he came up with something unique, something sweet. 

You groan the second your phone turns on. One too many notifications to keep up with and by the looks of it they aren't stopping anytime soon. Twitter is blowing up, you already know what it is. A bunch of low quality pixels of you entering with him and looking lost with a bunch of tacky headlines. You'll get that settled when you get home. You go to order an uber, but your phone manages to die on you miraculously. How lucky. All the times you spent trying to get a hold of Jude really drained the battery. You clench your jaw. 

Good god. You shove your phone back in your purse and keep stomping through birmingham. Shivering with each step. You didn't bring a jacket, how foolish.

You try to follow streets you think you know, but it's not going very well. There aren't very many people this far out. Leave it to fucking Jude to take you to the worlds more obscure club location. It's been about an hour since you left him at the club you think. An hour of walking through alley ways and neighborhoods that only raise the hair on the back of your neck. He couldn't even get you a ride home?

You think the last person you saw was a nurse chucking coffee at a bus station, the bus that you tried to catch but it sped away faster than your aching legs could take you. Better night than yours you're sure. You wander about trying to find at least a store open to be able to call for a taxi. 

You hear the crunch of slowing tires come up behind you, and you instantly quicken up your pace. You almost swear you hear your name shouted, but you don't stop. The second time, it's a little too clear to be mistaken for anyone else's name as the car comes to a crawl side by side to you. 

You turn on your heel harshly, “why in god's name-“ your voice dies the moment you recognize the familiar car model, and its driver. Trent. Oh.

“Get in the car." he dead pans, windows rolled at the way down, door already unlocked for you.

You wrinkle your nose, “I don't want to talk trent." 

The very last thing you need is that sorry excuse of a man to send his friend of all people to run after you and do his bidding where he fell short just hours before. This is so embarrassing it only makes you wish his car would explode. And then drive it into the club. While it's on fire. 

“I'm not letting you roam around these parts at this time, just get in." he sighs. 

You scowl, "he’s low for sending you to change my mind, after this whole fucking night why cant you leave me alone."

He gives you a look, “this has nothing to do with him, this is me. Worried for you. “

“Fuck off." you spit. 

“You’re so hard headed, just get in the damn car before someone robs you. Or worse." 

"How'd you even know I was here?" you squint at him. 

he sighs, rubbing his eyes, "i still have your location from when i picked you up for his birthday. And I heard about everything from just about everyone. "

"You have nothing else to do on valentines day?" you jab. 

He stays silent, hands wringing the steering wheel. You notice he's in what looks like pjs, Liverpool jacket thrown on top. He drove all this way for you?

You swallow your pride for a moment, hiking up your dress while you duck inside the car. Sighing in relief as the pressure is taken off your aching legs. Snapping your seatbelt over you, swinging your purse over your head and gently setting it on your lap, wiping away the tears that blur your vision. 

Your rage has turned into a simmer for now. The main goal at the moment is to just get out of these clothes and sleep till you forget what year it is. 

Trent is quiet while he lets you get comfortable, rolling up his windows backup and locking the doors. You've never sat passenger in his car before. Hell you haven't seen him in months.

“Did he touch you." he asks, turning the heater on higher.

You put your hand out in front of where the hot air blows oh so nice on your frozen hands,“What?”

“You have a bruise on the back of your arm. Did he do that? “

“No.” you sigh. 

he turns to face you, brows furrowed,“i need to know if he did. “ 

“He didn’t trent, i'm alright.'' your voice softens.

he nods, hands resting on the wheel,“where do you need to go? “

“Just take me to my hotel please."

He nods, handing you his phones to put the directions in. You watch as he takes the car out of park, making a u turn and heading out of whatever bizarre neighborhood you're in, back into the city. And  soon the freeway. Birmingham flashes by you and you try to forget the man that sits like a heavy weight in your mind.

You still wonder why Trent would make the trip all the way out just to pick you up. especially if Jude wasn't involved. You're somewhat close you suppose. The kind where you would call him a friend in a group setting, but not much more. You've spent only a couple of times truly alone. You don't know if you're that close.

 Trent has always been somewhat of a mystery to you. Few appearances and even fewer words. Jude had told you once he was shy, just taking a minute to warm up to new people. He has a habit of staring off into nothing you noticed at Judes birthday party. Always quick to snap out of it the moment eyes were on him. Oh so different from the way he plays. You've seen him now and again in highlights and clips posted on instagram. He's good, but man is he aggressive. You expect it for a defender but the man gets up in everyones space on the pitch.

A complete 180 from the way he can barely look you in the eye now. What is he thinking?

You don't let your curiosity blind you from being at least a little courteous. 

“Thank you, " you mumble, playing with the fabric of your dress, "and sorry for being a bitch.“

“Hey I don’t blame you.” he shrugs. 

You hum and leave it at that. You'll put unraveling Trent on the to do list. 

Your hotel comes into view and you thank him again for the kindness, promising to make it up to him some day. He waves you off, seeing till you're inside to leave. 

Your mind is so blurred you can barely stand anymore, every step only throws you off balance. You need your bed. Asap. Or you will fall over and die.

The hotel's heating is a welcome treat as you beeline for the elevator. The staff give you a strange look but you do NOT. have the time for any of that. Right now all you care about is getting in bed. Can this elevator hurry up? It finally comes and you lean against the metal walls when you step inside, sliding your purse lazily over you.

You all but tear your clothes off the second you make it inside your room, in a rush, wiping your makeup off while you undo your shoes, hobbling around with one foot while you dig for your pajamas. You end the night with a trip to the bathroom. Skipping on your usual night routine and just settling for a quick shower and brush of the teeth. 

Hotel covers have never felt better, warmer, safer. 

In the quiet of the room and the hum of the ac, you can't but let your thoughts consume you. Can't help but circle back to him. Why?

Why weren't you enough? Why did it have to end in fucking flames on whats supposed to be the most romantic love filled day of the year. 

You think back of every moment and piece of you shared with Jude. You remember the first time you kissed you, under the stands at his first madrid home game, clutching onto his jersey like a lifeline. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. Gently holding your hand all the way back inside the building. Mumbling confessions and making you smile with every cheesy pick up line.

That jude is gone now, instead replaced by the man who you have to fight for even a second with. But are expected to drop all for. A selfish bitter man. 

It doesn't matter anymore. It's over, you can rest now and deal with the inevitable fall out as it comes. You know you're more than enough, but with the way you let yourself be treated it's hard to let yourself believe that. 

Never again though. From now, you're swearing off footballers. 

—--

You wake up as early as you can manage, getting all your things together and booking a flight out of here as soon as possible. You need to get back to madrid.

Your headache is massive as you shove the last of your things in your suitcase. You can't believe you took days off for this. Nonetheless, you need to get back. You have a team to get back to and plenty of work to get done. Real Madrid's creative department never rests does it.

Your phone has a slew of missed calls, mainly from Jude but you see a few from Trent, rather recent ones. You give him a call back but it all goes to voicemail.

The key card jams while you're locking it for the last time, it takes a hit from your hand to get the scanner working but you make it out in one piece. Smoothing your clothes down and making your way to the lobby. Sitting down for a few minutes while you confirm your flight details and triple check that you haven't forgotten anything. You hear your name and are greeted again by Trent, who's all but spriting to you. It's a little early for him to be here now isn't it. 

“Can I help you ?” 

“I'm sorry I tried calling and I couldn't answer when you called. Judes outside waiting for you. he-“

So last night really was all just a ploy from Judes end? You try to get up and far far away from him, but he stands in front of you. 

“Listen.  He told me to come and get you out there so you can talk to him and to not tell you. But obviously, I'm not. i’ll tell him you're not here yeah? Take care.”

Trent doesn't leave you with anything else, leaving in the other direction. You take this as a sign to leave while you can, grabbing one of the many taxis outside to the airport. 

—--

Trent gives Jude a scowl, “She's not there Jude, give it up. “

“I can't just lose her. “ Jude sighs, furiously typing on his phone. 

Trent rolls his yees, patience wearing thin,“You’re fucked in the head you know that? After all you’ve done to her, you still want her to come running back?”

Silence. 

“I care about you Jude I really do. But you left her walking around at 3 am with a dead phone in the middle of alleyways dude. That's not okay. “

—--

The airport has never felt lonelier, but you swallow the lump in your throat, boarding your flight home and trying to forget the man that you've come to associate it with. Madrid will be a hard place to move on in, when its walls shine with its star boy. Its halls all but cheering his name. Every corner you're bound to be reminded of him. You can do it, one way or another you won't let yourself be miserable. 

[pixiemunsons]

hiii what about steve harrington x reader where steve with all of the girls he slept before he can't manage to cum -like he only cums when he's alone and like it feels kinda humiliating to him to cum in front of someone bc he's really noisy and it's reader's first time and she manage to make him cum 👀

stop the world (i wanna get off with you) sh

stevie learns that sometimes, you just gotta let go (3.1k words)

anon i'm so sorry i missed the part where u said first time however it is their first time together. my first steve fic!! also don't usually write dom!reader so v new for me. thank u for requesting<3 this is set sort of between s2 and 3

light sub!steve/dom!reader, caretaking, handjobs, vulnerable/embarrassed steve, mentions of him sleeping w other girls but no jealousy, first orgasm w a partner, p in v sex, gentle sex, lots of sweet talking and reassurance, this is a very sweet little thing w very very little angst. no use of y/n or appearance description. no spoilers

‘sorry, can you say that again?’

steve blushed bright red, running a hand through his messy hair as you stared at him, wide mouthed.

‘baby, please, it’s so humiliating!’ he threw his head back into the pillow, hiding his hot face in his hands, and it took almost all of your strength to gently prise his fingers away from his eyes.

‘no, s’not. just wanna make sure i heard you properly.’

steve sighed deeply, looking at you tentatively.

‘no one else has ever been able to make me cum before, just myself. happy now?’

───

when king steve harrington had first asked you on a date, you thought he was joking. you’d barely ever spoken at school; helped him get through a bio test once when he was in junior year and you were a sophomore taking an advanced class, but outside of that, you’d barely interacted. 

that is, until you had nipped over to jonathan byers’ house to drop him and his mother a tray of mac and cheese and ask how the search for will was going and had found him, nancy and steve beating the shit out of an alien.

it had all sort of snowballed from there, really. nancy and steve started dating again not long after the incident, before she bounced on over to byers, and while you were really happy for your friends, it had been you that was left to pick up the broken pieces of steve harrington’s heart. well, you and the ragtag bunch of thirteen-year-olds that you had sort of acquired over time. you learnt a lot about steve over the months you spent together; he was a serial dater, though they never seemed to go anywhere - despite the girls seemingly chasing him for weeks after he’d turned them down. he loved ice cream and cheesy rom-coms and the songs from west side story. steve harrington liked driving the kids around, even when he denied it, and listening to dustin talk about d&d, and so it turned out, he really, really liked you.

he’d asked you to go on three dates before you started to believe that he really wanted you like that, and even then he’d had to ask twice more before you agreed to go. you had heard he was a bit of a fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em kinda guy, and the dynamic you’d built up wasn’t something you were willing to ruin for a quick fumble; even if you had heard that said fumbles were nothing short of magnificent. he’d done things properly though; picked you up and opened the car door for you, told your mother he’d have you home on time, taken you to enzo’s, the nicest place in town. he’d made you laugh with his stories all night, ignoring the way other patrons looked at you, and when you reached for the cheque at the end of the night he had brushed you off as if you asking was an insult in and of itself. and then he’d taken you home fifteen minutes before curfew and asked you permission before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, driving away and leaving you leaning breathless against your front door.

being with steve was a lot different to how you expected it might be. it was just like before, really, doing everything together like best friends. but you caught the way he looked at you now, really looked at you like no one else did. saw how he took in every scar, every mark and cherished it, loved it as a part of you. and even though you hadn’t quite said those words yet, hadn’t quite taken it there, you knew it was true for both of you. there were other things about steve that you hadn’t expected, either; how his room was still the blue colour he’d painted it at twelve, how he could cook a really decent spaghetti. and how, five months into your relationship, he’d never taken it further than making out.

you hadn’t intended to get onto the conversation. you were just talking about how tommy and carol were hooking up again even after their latest break up, and steve had said he thought tommy was dating paula morgan from their graduating class, and about how steve’d gone on a date with her once and she’d left a hickey so big he had to tell his folks he got hit with a volleyball in gym. you knew there was a reason paula kept giving you the shit-eye when you went into the grocery store where she worked. 

‘tellin’ you, i got off lucky! danny rogers, you know from the year above me? he told me once that she gave him a handy and twisted it so hard he was bruised for weeks! scared me off of her for life.’

you laughed, half thinking as he spoke. he had hooked up with loads of girls at school, you knew that, but the more you two spoke about your histories the more you were finding out; secret rendezvous' with girls under the bleachers, in the back of his car. he’d even confessed that he let sheila richards give him a blowjob in mr davies’ empty maths classroom. but it’d been months and the most the two of you had done was heavy petting over the clothes and making out before he’d push you gently away to get back to whatever movie you’d rented that weekend, even if you could feel how hard he was under his jeans. you hadn’t really meant to bring it up at that point, but surely it was better to tell him how you were feeling?

so you’d asked what was going on, and he’d stared at you for so long you thought you might burst into flames of embarrassment, desperately worried you’d said the wrong thing, when he came out with a whisper so tiny you almost didn’t hear it.

almost.

───

‘but-but what about all the other girls? you’ve been getting it left right and centre by every girl in your year, and i’ve certainly never heard any of them complaining.’

steve looked at you and drew a deep breath, shrugging his shoulders.

‘no, babe, they’ve been getting it from me. i mean, i’ve had a few… favours, but i’ve just never, like, finished. i find an excuse, like that i can hear someone coming or whatever, and then i go home and… sort myself out.’

‘so, you can come? just not when other people try?’

he nodded his head, seemingly more calm now that it was out there in the open.

‘is it a physical thing, you think? or a mental block?’

steve shrugged his shoulders again.

‘bit of both, maybe? i think part of it is that i’ve never been that bothered about cumming? i know it sounds silly, but i’m not usually in the sex for myself, and when you end up with a reputation like mine, you gotta find a way of keepin’ it up. so i just do what i need’a do to get her there, then deal with myself later.’ he felt silly now that he said it aloud, wringing his fingers in front of him. it had been part of the reason he’d never moved on you; he was too worried you’d think he didn’t find you attractive, didn’t want you, and the thought killed him.

‘you ever fucked someone you really care about, before, stevie? who really cares about you?’

he looked up at the change of tone in your voice, and saw that you were climbing up his body so your faces were level. he was going red again, gulping as you leaned down over him.

’n-no? never.’

you cocked your head to the side, frowning. ‘what about nance?’ steve shook his head solemnly.

‘no, w-we never… what are you doing, babe?’ he asked as you crawled onto his lap, thighs now either side of his hips.

‘stevie, i think the reason you were never bothered is because they weren’t. they just wanted to fuck the king, have a piece of him. but i don’t want the king.’ you laid a soft kiss on his lips, smiling as you pulled away and steve followed you for more. ‘i want steve harrington. and i wanna make him feel good. y’gonna let me do that?’ you were almost purring, playing with the hem of his t-shirt, and steve couldn’t even find the words to express how he felt other than god, baby, yes please.

you started by kissing him real, real slow. moved your lips over his languidly, tongue running gently over the seam of his lips in soft, caressing strokes that had his head spinning and his chin jutting forward for more. his mouth opened, and you slipped yourself in, running your tongue over his own. steve moaned gently into the kiss, grinding his hips up into yours, and you pushed them back down gently.

‘not yet, baby, tryna make this good for you. just calm down, take it slow. we got all the time in the world.’ he hummed against your mouth, settling his hips down while his hands explored your body slowly. you sat with him like this for a little while; one hand playing with his hair whilst the other sat on his stomach, pressing tender smooches to his lips, his nose, his cheeks, ears, forehead, eyes, until eventually you worked a trail of lip gloss down his neck. your teeth came out at the base of his throat, only gently, marking him inconspicuously as yours, and he almost whimpered under you.

it wasn’t often that you took your time with steve. it was hard to show your appreciation for him sexually when he was always resisting, refusing to let you in. so you were definitely having a lot of fun taking your time tonight. you stripped him of his t-shirt, straddling his hips and feeling his hard cock pressed against you through both of your jeans as you leant forward. your lips shifted from his neck to his chest, nipping at his collarbones as you moved down his stomach.

‘stevie, y’ so pretty,’ you whispered from his happy trail, nose nudging at the curls that lay there as he whined under you.

‘you’re so beautiful, babe, so gorgeous.’ his hand dropped from his chest to your face, stroking at your cheek gently with a thumb. you turned to kiss his fingertips gently, and he moaned when you took the very tip of his index finger into your mouth and sucked gently.

‘’m gonna get you all ready for me, stevie, use my hand and get you worked up, then i’m gonna get on top like you like it and make you feel good. no pressure, if y’can’t cum it’s all good, we’ll just try again when you’re ready. i jus’ want you to know you’re safe with me, nothin’ bad’s gonna happen, i’m gonna take good care of you, yeah?’ you were running your fingers over the top of his jeans, dipping into his boxers ever so gently, and he nodded, fingers grabbing for your t-shirt.

‘yeah, but can you take this off, too? please? don’t wanna be the only one sat here naked,’ he half-chuckled, half-moaned when you stripped the garment away, bra following so you were clad in your jeans alone.

‘can you go in the drawer, babe, get the lube please?’ you asked sweetly, and he passed it down with a kiss pressed to the top of your head. you manoeuvred your position so you were sat facing steve, his face level with your boobs as you straddled his thighs, giving you enough room to pull him out of his jeans and boxers. and, wow, was he hard. and big. his red tip was leaking, almost painful looking, and you pumped some of the lube into your right hand before rubbing it together in your palm, warming it up. he let out a hiss when you finally made contact, hips bucking up into your palm. you simply eased him back down again, pressing a kiss to the bicep of his right arm.

‘shh, baby, i said i got you. how do you usually like it?’

steve cocked his head to the side, blushing red. ‘what do you mean?’

‘you said you make yourself cum,’ you grabbed his hand, guiding it on top of yours. ‘so show me how you do that. maybe it’ll help you relax a little.’ he was nervous, you could tell, so you kissed him gently on the mouth, nodding gently to encourage him. slowly, his hand tightened your own around his cock, moving at a much slower pace than you anticipated he’d like. not that you minded; having him show you how intimately, gently, he liked to be touched was getting you wet, and it was taking a lot to keep your mind on the task quite literally at hand.

steve removed his hand once you seemed to be getting the hang of it, letting his head flop back against the pillows behind him.

‘o-oh, baby, just like that,’ he was writhing under you, leg bouncing up between your thighs in a way that made them clench. steve noticed, reaching out to touch you, but you carefully brushed his hand away.

‘not right now, stevie. we’re gonna think about you for now, we can worry about me later, ’s okay,’ you whispered up at him, flicking your thumb over the very head of him and watching as his head dropped back once more, eyes rolling into his head.

‘f-fuck, that’s so… fuck.’ he seemed to be relaxing, finally, letting you make him feel like he deserved for the first time.

‘you’re doin’ so good f’me, babe. such a good boy,’ you hummed, and steve’s fingers were white knuckled and wound into the bedsheets. he moaned, high-pitched and needy, and the sound went right between your legs.

‘’m gonna c-cum, babe, fuck, stop,’ he whimpered, and you cocked an eyebrow.

‘why stop? everything okay?’

‘wanna- fuck, wanna cum in you.’ his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed the moan making its way to the surface.

‘you sure? you won’t lose it if i stop now?’

steve shook his head vehemently, pushing your hand away from his leaking cock and reaching to undo your jeans, yanking them down to your knees. you leant forward to kiss him, gently pushing his arms back to his sides.

‘there’s no rush, steve, we can take our time. here, keep touching yourself f’me. there you go baby, just like that.’ you stripped yourself slowly, pushing your lace underwear down your hips and kicking them off with your jeans so you were bare in front of him. you’d usually be nervous, first time a boy saw you like that, but steve? he was something different. his hand was pumping up and down his cock just like he’d shown you he liked it, eyelids drooping as he revered your naked form above him.

‘want me on top? or d’you wanna do it?’

steve groaned again. he had no idea how he’d managed to swing you, but right now, he definitely wasn’t complaining. ‘can you do it, babe, please?’

his puppy dog eyes were so disarming, so loving, you couldn’t help but to lean forward and run a thumb over his lips, watching as he ran the very tip of his tongue over the pad of your digit.

‘i just want you to know that there’s no pressure, honey. if it doesn’t happen, we don’t force it, we try until you wanna stop and then we try another time, okay?’ the concern in your eyes had him almost in tears, so he just nodded as you lowered yourself onto him for the first time.

the sting was uncomfortable but not unwelcome, his thick cock stretching you out just enough for it to hurt whilst still feeling good. you moaned together when you finally had him all the way down to his thick base, buried so deep you could feel it everywhere.

‘’m not gonna last long, sweetheart,’ steve grunted, hips meeting yours mid-thrust and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him, not when he was bumping up against a spot that had you seeing stars.

‘stevie, so good, so fuckin’ big and perfect for me,’ you were half-crying on his cock, trying to keep a rhythm going.

‘where d’you - fuck - want it? s’comin’ babe,’ steve was grunting through gritted teeth, and you just had time to cry out ‘stomach, shit’ when he was pulling out, head poking out from his hand as he fisted his cock, warm splashes of cum spurting out to paint your tummy.

‘oh baby, oh my love, fuck, so good!’ steve was almost shouting through his orgasm from under you, and he was the most beautiful person you’d ever met. head thrown back, hair messy, chest red and mouth forming an o as he rode his orgasm out in his hand. you were still hovering above him, up on your knees, when he covered his face with his hands once more.

‘stevie, what’s wrong?’ you asked, worried you’d taken it too far. he peeked out from between his fingers, eyeing you.

‘that was so loud, s'embarrassing,’ he whispered, and you pulled his hands from his face like you had not half an hour earlier.

‘you kidding? that was so hot!’

‘shut up, don’t be a dick.’

‘steve, i’m being serious!’ he peered over at you, intrigued, as you started ranting. ‘fuck, i can’t believe i’m the first person to see you like that! i mean, i’m glad i was, because holy shit, that was a religious fucking experience!’ the look of wonder on your face soon became something a little more teasing. ‘i can’t wait to make you do that again.’

it was your turn to be surprised when steve looped his arms around your thighs, yanking you forward so you were still on your knees, now situated with your pussy directly over his mouth. a smirk spread across steve’s face at the look of wonder on your own.

‘well, not right now, you won’t sweetheart.’

he pressed a trail of kisses down your right inner thigh, short nails scraping at the skin of your ass.

‘you’ve shown me what a good job you can do. now it’s time to show you what i’m famous for, baby.’

[nite-puff]

fuck it! gay robots!

ishimondo wall-e au! it came to me in a dream.

mondo (… M.O.N.D-0???) is the last robot standing cleaning up earth when he gets a surprise visit from a rocket ship. on that ship is taka (… T.A.K.A???) who has been sent to find any proof that earth can support life once again. the two meet and shenanigans ensue. maybe they fall in love???

anyways, more rambling from me about these two under the cut.

okay! so my main thing with mondo and his behavior is that it’s all based on him being the last being on earth, so he really doesn’t have anyone around him (other than his pet cockroach, chuck!) and therefore doesn’t feel the need to act a certain way to impress anyone. so this is version of mondo is if he didn’t have a whole bunch of self-image issues and just was his funki and cringe self. he literally is cringe and free.

after years having to clean up earth, he’s grown an affinity for the little things to pass the time. like collecting little knick-knacks he finds on the job to bring back home or making figures out of the cubes of trash he makes. he’s a little artist and collector.

taka on the other hand is at first rigid and is set out to complete his directive because it’s what he was made to do. he has a whole population back on the axium counting on him to find any traces of life on earth (or so he thinks). he does occasionally display some signs of humanity and happiness. he feels warmth in the little things as well, like a cockroach or bubble wrap or a lighter. he’s enthralled and wants to know more about this strange place but can’t because he has a job to do. maybe the strange little robot guy he meets doesn’t throw him off his course.

design stuff! i know i made mondo look less… anthro ig??? in his design than taka, but i wanted to make up for it by “personalizing” him a bit. he’s doodled all over himself and he thinks his trousers make him look nice. maybe he thinks the doodles look badass because they’re like tattoos. i also did that to contrast more with taka, who looks spotless. i was considering giving him legs, but remembered that of course he would have wheels. biker, and alla that. he was born to roll around. and i don’t think it’s noticeable, but i tried to make his arms and hands bigger than wall-e’s because he’s a little stronger. in this au, mondo doesn’t do the trash compacting his his little cube body, but with his hands (to keep with the idea that mondo likes to work and creat stuff with his hands). so he needs to have bigger and more efficient tools. also, i changed his wheels to be diamond shaped.

taka meanwhile was super easy to design. he and eve have sorta similar design qualities, like a majority white color palette and very simple shapes with not a lot of detail going on. very easy to mix the two. the idea of his design is what spurred me into thinking about this au. the one thing i’ll point out is that i made eve’s little dots that pop up when she scans things vertical so that it can sort of resemble taka’s medal. idk i thought it was neat.

(also, if im being completely honest with myself, if taka was actually any wall-e character, he would be MO. just an angry gremlin that musters up the courage to stray off his path because he is so determined to clean up wall-e’s mess. and then they become friends at the end. he just gives off taka energy.)

anyways, that’s it for right now. im pretty satisfied with taka’s design, but im considering changing some things on mondo’s. mainly the color palette.

am i gonna turn this into a full-fledged story??probably not, but maybe i’ll add more onto it in the near future. like assigning other characters.

wall-e’s a cute movie. gotta put the blorbos in it.

[sapphos-ode]

Little One

Lady Dimitrescu Find part 2 here

Didn’t mean to post this from my drafts and idk how to put it back so. Here we go, it’s a mess sorry

~

The Countess’ head fell to the pillow as if tethered to a leaden weight, she had not the energy to care about how unladylike she was at that precise moment; what mattered to her was seeking out the comfort of slumber. In her haste to crawl into bed she had discarded her day clothes, strewn them across the floor, undergarments decorating her vanity seat, and her night gown chucked haphazardly onto one of the nightstands that flanked either side of her bed. Alcina was in a limbo like state between wake and sleep when a maid slipped into her bedchamber, she found she didn’t have the energy to open her eyes, a simple groan left her as she curled up into herself, bunching the duvet to her chest.

“My apologies, I was unaware you were in here, my lady,” the maid’s voice came as a low murmur, something that Alcina was glad for.

The response was another bedraggled sound, and if the Countess was more aware she would have heard the suppressed giggle. Silence wrapped the room as Alcina struggled to find the rest that she so desperately needed. A short period of time passed when Countess picked up on movement in the room, she willed herself to sit up, open her eyes and see who was intruding... but alas she hadn’t the strength. So she resorted to a mumbled question.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Cleaning, my lady,” it was the same soft voice from before, when the Lady out some thought into it, she never heard the door close to signify the maid’s exit.

“That should have been done before dinner,” Alcina tried to add an edge of annoyance to her voice, to no avail. She just sounded exasperated.

“Dinner is to be served in half an hour, my lady,” the maid paused momentarily, looking up from the bundle of silks she had collected for the washing.

“Oh,”

“Shall I inform your daughters of your absence?”

“Please,”

“Rest well, my lady,”

The maid was met with the lady’s steady breathing, for which she took as a sign that the she had finally fallen asleep. The maid approached the bed with light steps, her gaze travelled over Alcina’s form; taking her in, in all her beauty. A black ringlet swayed in time with each breath the Countess took.

“Oh, you’ve not even taken off your makeup, nevermind dressing for bed,” she spoke to no one.

With deft hands and a feathery touch, the maid tucked the stray hair behind the Countess’ ear, out of her face.

“You truly work yourself to the bone, I worry for you,” the maid continued to speak as she searched the vanity for a cloth, once in hand she headed to the attached en-suite, still talking away, “you are a remarkable woman,” her voice became clearer as she entered the room once again, with a damp cloth.

Once at the bedside again, the young woman coaxed Alcina’s head in a way that allowed her to gently wipe at the make up, one hand was caressing the Countess’ head, holding it, as the other cleared each layer of cosmetics with gentle hands. She spent ample time removing the makeup, ensuring that every crease in Alcina’s face was cleared, she stopped mid motion when her eyes spotted something in the Countess’ hair.

“You’ve left the pins in... you must have been exhausted,” the maid lamented as she set the cloth down and proceeded to take out the pins, freeing ringlets, allowing them to cascade onto the older woman’s shoulders, “you have such beautiful hair, I find myself wanting to run my fingers through it,”

Alcina stirred the slightest, prompting the maid to stroke her cheek with a tenderness that flowed through her touch, “worry not, I’m almost done, you can’t possible sleep in a full face if makeup and be comfortable,” a sweet chuckle followed the words, the maid walked back to the vanity and selected a few creams and serums before returning to the Lady’s side. She proceeded to massage each one into the Countess’ skin, taking care to be light with her touch. Once done, everything was returned and the young woman was stood gazing at Alcina’s form.

She watched over the countess for another few moments before leaving silently to help with the dinner service.

The maid would return later in the evening to check up on the matriarch. She entered just as quietly as she had left.

A frown presented itself on her face as her eyes focused on the Countess’ chest. It rose too quickly and fell too fast for someone to be sleeping peacefully.

“When I was just a babe, my mother would read to me... when I couldn’t sleep, I often had trouble sleeping,” she perused the selection of books the matriarch had lying on a small table, she found a tattered copy of ‘Carmilla’, and studied the cover before speaking again, “It helped. Greatly, and I think it also helped even if I was asleep, I suppose it’s the subconscious hearing a voice that is familiar and comforting,”

The maid looked over at Alcina, who’s brow was drawn ever so slightly.

“I know I do not provide that comfort for you, my lady, but it would not hurt to read the first few chapters to you, Carmilla is a personal favourite of mine... guessing from the state of the book, it’s a favourite of yours too,” the maid rambled on lightly as she took a seat and brought it over to the bedside. She leaned her elbows on the edge of the mattress and started to read. At some point she had taken to absentmindedly stroking and caressing the Lady’s upper arm.

A distant chime of a clock broke the spell and roused the maid from her reading, a soft sigh flew from her lips, “looks like this adjourns our reading... I’ll leave you to sleep on in peace, I must be off now,” she headed for the door after returning the book.

At the door she turned around and gently whispered, “sweet dreams, my lady,” before slipping away.

Seconds passed, then minutes until Alcina opened one eye and scanned the room, she was alone. Regret overtook her.

“I should have opened my eyes to see who you are, sweet one,”

[elsweetheart]

i just wanna adopt a cat with ellie :((

i luv this ,, wrote this half awake enjoy

“babe? babe! fucking — ahh! shit, crazy little shit!” ellie whisper yelled, followed by loud crashing about in your living room space. you shot up, eyes finding the alarm clock that read 12:28AM, rubbing one of your eyes as you woke yourself up. this was the usual time ellie was meant to arrive back from patrol. usually, she’d shower and crawl into your bed with not much fuss— most times you wouldn’t even wake up, so for her to be causing such a ruckus you figured you should probably go and see what was going on.

you pad out your bedroom, rubbing the sleep out of your eye feeling the chill hit your body, only adorned in a tank top and shorts.

“el, wh’s a matter.” you croaked out, thinking this shit better be worth it. ellie, facing the couch spun around — an odd mixture of mischief and exhaustion on her face.

“babe, don’t freak out. i— i just couldn’t leave her okay, she’s really cute when she’s not freaking the fuck out — and, i know this is technically your place but i thought hey— why not—” ellie rambled as you squinted in the low light, the auburn haired girl having flicked on a lamp upon her arrival.

“what are you talking about?” you yawned, walking up to ellie in confusion. your eyes caught movement behind her and you frowned, craning around to see what it was.

it moved too fast to be able to tell at first, a bundle of black fur and two big sparkly beads. ellie moved aside, and you crouched down — coming face to face with a kitten.

the kitten seemed to calm at your slow movements, pupils dilated as it stared up at you curiously.

“a kitten?” you whispered, expression softening in awe. you had only seen a cat once before, it was a rarity to see any kind of animal that would be considered a pet in the old world.

“found her held up in some house. she hissed at me a bunch until i gave her some of the food i’d packed. she’s got her priorities straight, i respect it.” she chuckled tiredly, kneeling down beside you to look at her. “you wanna keep her? i mean, she can be ours. together.” ellie scratched the back of her neck, slightly nervous at the proposal.

“oh my god, yes. of course. i love her.” you pouted, slowly reaching your palm out. she sniffed it curiously before unsurely nuzzling her head into it.

“i see she has a favourite already. that’ll change, don’t you worry.” ellie sarked, standing up and stretching, body sore after her long hours out in the snow.

“uh huh.” you giggle, crossing your legs as you get comfortable on the floor.

“why don’t you make her a little bed for now down here. we can deal with her in the morning.” ellie suggested, her hand brushing your shoulder fondly urging you to stand. you did so, the two of you creating a makeshift cushion cat bed, the black kitten circling it a few times before settling. “there we go. now let me shower and i’ll be in bed. i’m fucking beat.” ellie walked toward your bathroom, already chucking her jacket aside.

you head back to bed, the sleepiness taking back over as you crawled beneath the warmth of your bed sheets. ellie joined you not so long after as you lightly dozed, sliding in behind you in a clean hoodie and shorts. her warm hands slid beneath your tank, resting on your tummy as she snuggled into you.

“we gotta—” you croaked, half awake.

“hm?” ellie lift her head slightly, placing a kiss beneath your ear.

“gotta… find a name for her.” you murmured, the matter clearly very important. ellie dropped her head back onto the pillow.

“pfft, already done. ellie junior.” she joked and you smiled lazily despite fighting sleep.

“seriously.”

“we can discuss it in the morning. maybe it’ll come to you in a dream.”

“maybe.”

“goodnight, baby.”

“night els.”