#i really am such a joy to be around 😌

[the-raindeer-king]

Low blood sugar really makes me act like a fool because I just stuck a bag of mini m&ms in my mouth and shook them around like a dog.

[lovelytsunoda]

left hand free // yuki tsunoda

summary: sunny summer days and strawberry fields

pairing: yuki tsunoda x baker! reader

authors note: I’m so sorry for the sporadic nature of my updating this summer I’ve only really had the inspiration for smaus because I’ve been travelling and I’ve been busy but I hope you can enjoy these while I prepare this years cozy collection!!

ynthecakebaker

tagged yukitsunoda

987 likes

ynthecakebaker hey google play saturday sun by vance joy

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yukitsunoda love you my darling ❤️🍓 can’t wait to see what you bake next….although I think my trainer might disagree

-> ynthecakebaker pish posh, he doesn’t need to know 😌

user yuki dating someone who loves food as much as he does is so on brand

liamlawson30 need I remind you that I set you guys up and am therefore entitled to snack on whatever you bake next?

-> ynthecakebaker piss off lawson, you get one slice of cheesecake and that is it

-> liamlawson30 I can deal with that

yourbestie excuse me why wasn’t I invited?? I’ve been suggesting we do this for weeks!

-> yukitsunoda I know, and that’s why I made it happen (were going pumpkin picking in the fall, you and brad are invited!)

-> yourbestie yes please!! (yn i still want that girls day!)

-> ynthecakebaker planning the trip as we speak!

yukitsunoda

tagged ynthecakebaker

1,459 likes

yukitsunoda real men help their girlfriends pick strawberries so they can make cheesecake sauce 🍰

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ynthecakebaker forever grateful for our adventures!

ynthecakebaker I bake, he cooks. we’re a family resteraunt in the making

-> pierregasly I’m holding you guys to that and I expect to be a vip when you open

user the back muscles are back muscling

-> ynthecakebaker RIGHT

pierregasly oh you are so whipped

-> yukitsunoda and you’re saying kika doesn’t have you wrapped around her little finger?

user my favourite power couple

user yuki can u fight? I wanna borrow yn for the day

-> yukitsunoda no you can’t have her.

-> ynthecakebaker pookie!! be nice!!

-> user no he’s so fr because if I had yn I wouldn’t want to share either

ynthecakebaker

982 likes

ynthecakebaker bake it like you mean it! new video will be out this weekend all about cheesecakes and the best sauces to pair them with :)

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yukitsunoda that was the best cheesecake I’ve ever had hands down we are not sharing this with anybody

-> ynthecakebaker not even your mom?

-> yukitsunoda …. only immediate family

yourbestie might have to stop by on my way to work…suddenly I crave cheesecake

-> ynthecakebaker I thought you were lactose intolerant?

-> yourbestie I will take a whole bottle of lactaid because nothing is standing in between me and that cake

-> yukitsunoda except me 😌

[shirefantasies]

How would the fellowship confess to their crush??? 🤭🤭 ty<3

oh hoo yes ma'am/sir/friend 😌 the pleasure is all mine! Expanding this to everyone cuz I wanna as always & incorporating some TH fanon (?) lmao

How LoTR Characters Confess to You

Aragorn

Upon your ride into battle he would hardly be parted from you, and you him, so it suited you very well to remain alongside the Three Hunters. Gimli had quickly leapt from his mount, axe blazing in what little daylight remained, and Legolas had not strayed too far behind. Aragorn had become surrounded in that time, crowds of striking enemies surrounded. With a cry, you charged through them, alerting numerous other fighters to your rapidly growing cause. All but seeing red, you fought hard, leaving none spared until your dear friend was safe again. When you dismounted, Aragorn pulled you aside under the guise of checking your wounds. "What would you have done if none joined you?" At that question, you smiled. "I had faith. But had that faith failed, I still would have rode to you." Steady though his gaze was, his hand briefly faltered before it took yours. "As would I for you, my love," he replies and you feel a tug, giving in to the sweat and adrenaline and letting him pull you into his lips.

Legolas

"What are you thinking of?" The words almost startled you, turning your head swiftly to face the woodland prince striding over, that curious look alighting his dark eyes. Heat crept to your face, for your thoughts were hardly ones you would have shared with the object of your feelings. "The future," you replied. Not entirely a lie. Legolas's brows knit. "Uncertainty? Even in these times, there is hope. For you especially, I think there is brightness ahead yet." His words bring the pensive downward tug of your face back up into joy. "Really? And why is that?" You cannot help asking, unsure what Legolas sees for you when it is so unclear for yourself. "Meleth nîn, you care so deeply for others and yet so little for yourself. All that you bring into this world is that brightness. Whether it is to others or you keep it to yourself...or even a family." A look of...questioning? Bashfulness? illuminates the elf's face. "Perhaps I have my own dreams for your future. I am sorry." At once you rose, throwing your arms around his neck. "Do not be. Perhaps our thoughts were more alike than I realized!"

Boromir

“I thought I would never see you again.” “Don’t say that,” you shake your head, peering tearfully down at Boromir. His wounds were grave, far beyond anything you thought he could have survived, and yet there he remained. Hardly had you left his side, even sleeping there with his gloved hand in yours, hoping against all hope. By the Valar’s grace did he speak to you, his voice a low rasp that had you leaning in even closer. “No, it is true. For all my thoughts of Gondor, of laying eyes upon the white towers glistening in the sun once more, I thought of you also. At what pain would it be that I never see you again. I would be a fool if I never spoke my love to you.” Tears rush again to your eyes, this time with the soar of your heart as you grip Boromir’s hand tighter, leaning down to stroke his cheek and finally press your lips to his.

Gimli

“I…got you something.” Pausing, you swivel back to face Gimli, taking a step closer and seeing the way his eyes bore into yours. “‘Tis nothing so fair as you deserve, but, well, I hope you might think to accept it.” Your brows furrow a bit as you tell him whatever it is, you’ll surely treasure his gift. Smiling bashfully, the dwarf extends a hand and produces a beautifully engraved bead. The writing is unmistakable, a short Khuzdûl inscription, and on either end lies a tiny cut of your favorite stone. “Gimli, this is beautiful,” you breathe, eyes wide and shining. “Not half so as you,” he shoots back, lashes fluttering a bit, “do you know what it is?” You smile. “Yes.” “Are you sure?” “Yes,” you repeat, leaning down to rest your forehead against his.

Frodo

So long. So long has it been since he has seen you. He has no right to you, not such as the dear hopes falling almost silently from his lips that you had waited for him. Especially having been given nothing to wait for! Yet upon return to the Shire, much as Sam’s is of Rosie Cotton, Frodo’s first thought is of you. The first night he returns to the Green Dragon with his beloved friends, celebrating adventure and pain and wonder and darkness and light beyond their wildest nightmares and dreams, Frodo’s eyes meet yours. Before he can wonder what to say you’re dropping the spoon that was in your hand and rushing over to him, falling into his arms and nestling into his embrace. “I missed you,” you say, and those three words are all it takes for something to snap in Frodo’s heart. “And I you. More than missed you, I saw you like a guiding light, a beacon in darkness. All the time I was away I loved you.”

Sam

He’ll confess nowhere but the most beautiful spot he can find, that’s for certain! Sam leads you eagerly to the Shire’s finest garden, taking your hand softly to guide you beneath an arching trellis covered in sweet pea blossom. “I knew I had to take you here,” Sam tells you, reaching down to take both of your hands. You feel a flush of heat under his sweet gaze. “Why is that?” “Well, it’s the perfect place to tell you how long I’ve loved you. Surrounded by all these beautiful flowers and yet I’ve got the best one.” “I don’t know about that,” you tell him, almost losing your composure at the way his face falls before you continue, “I think I do.” Blooming across Sam’s face is the purest look of pleasant surprise, and you can’t resist cupping his cheeks before the both of you close the gap completely.

Merry

Beautiful accident. That was the phrase you had heard so often used, and such was it. One last stand had been gathered, one final fight for Frodo, and you were rising to the occasion, though not without protest. “They want me to stay behind,” you complained to your dear friend Merry, “but my leg is mostly healed. Only illness or grievous injury could prevent me from joining everyone I love in defense of this world.” At that, the hobbit grinned. “That’s why I love you.” Stunned, you gaped at his flippant confession, watching his own jaw fall open in shocked pause. Smiling, you grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a searing kiss, uncaring of the way your armor clanked together or the jolt of pain in your side with the sudden motion. The feeling of Merry’s lips against yours claimed all your head and heart.

Pippin

Confesses his feelings quite unexpectedly in Lothlórien. Long have your days been and heavenly is it to have some rest. Pippin remains there at your side as you take in the astounding city in the trees, and again when you retire for the evening, taking to your makeshift quarters. You speak there, sighing and recounting without many words all that the journey has brought you through. "More than we ever would have dared imagine has happened, even just in the past few days," you comment. "Yes," Pippin agrees, fixing you deeply with his green eyes, "but one thing has come from that." "What?" You ask. "Telling someone I love them doesn't seem so scary now." He pauses, searches the surprise on your face. "You don't- you don't have to-" His words are utterly cut off, though, by the passionate fall of your lips upon his.

Faramir

What place is more wondrous than a library? None for you, thank you. Faramir was well used to finding you there and soon joining you, poring over books from his childhood and whatever dusty tome you insisted on dragging out next, grinning at the way he chuckles. He knows it’s the very place to tell you how he feels, having found the perfect way to do it. It begins with a tale of two lovers, simple as that. He means to ask your thoughts on it but you give them freely. “This is a favorite of mine. How I long to live in such a story as this one,” you sigh at the sight of it. “And how I long to give that to you,” Faramir replied simply, hand creeping toward yours across the illuminated pages.

Eomer

Comes running to you before anything else after a battle. Panting, he stops before you, eyes wide. Concern cuts across your face at the sight of him there, sweat still upon his brow and chest heaving beneath his armor. You say his name, ask it more like a question, and he slides his helmet off, giving you a better look at his intent visage. Before you can speak further, his hands are upon your waist, pulling you into him as his lips collide with yours. Even beneath the salt of his exhaustion, you can taste him, feel the fervor until he pulls away, eyes glistening with pride. “We won!” Hand on your hip, you fix him with a look. “Will you celebrate with me, my love?”

Haldir

Retiring to the meadows was a favorite pastime of yours, taking time to yourselves beneath the gentle brush of the breeze. Pensive as ever, Haldir stares off at seemingly nothing, brows knit. Laying a hand upon his arm, you stir him from his thoughts with a look as your gazes join. His eyes search yours, you nod encouragingly. Haldir tucks the flower he’d been twirling idly between his fingers and tucks it behind your ear. “You can imagine what has been on my mind, I trust.” Attempting to lighten whatever clouds rolled across his mind, you nudge him, smiling. “Not at all! You are a mystery as always. Proceed.” “Have I not made it clear that I am in love with you?” Feeling heat surge to your face at the intensity of his words, you let yourself get swept up in emotion, smiling and tucking a strand of golden hair behind his ear. “Well, perhaps we should make it even clearer.”

Eowyn

Eowyn is so giving and caring to you, you feel as though your heart might burst. She cooks for you even if it isn’t the best, bless her. She gives you extra blankets when you’re cold, defends you against the slightest of negative words. Never leaves your side, fights for you in every sense you could state it. So of course you thank her, tell her again and again that you do not know what you’d do without her. That her gracious heart is a true gift. But one day? One day you question instead. “Why,” you ask, “do you give so much? Sometimes I feel I have so little to offer in return.” “Do you not know?” She replies in earnest, blue eyes shining. “Are you not aware I love you?” Fear colors her words. She wants to be enough, you realize. All her actions were to show you that. Caressing her cheeks, you tell her that she is all you could have wanted and more, smiling into the kiss you share.

Arwen

Memories abound as Arwen makes her feelings known. “Do you recall when my father first summoned you here?” “Yes,” you giggle, “I told him his home looks like a painting!” “He was charmed by that,” she assured you, “as was I. When I first saw you, I knew you were different. Not just as one from outside our borders, but that you brought some quite splendor.” Heart struck by her words, you try to even half-echo Arwen’s compliments. “I felt the same. There you were practically glowing as you welcomed me, beauty and strength beyond that of this world. Now that I know you, such is only multiplied, tenfold when one sees your heart.” Blue eyes swimming, Arwen embraces you, whispering her love for you in her native tongue.

Elrond

This is a private conversation. Thus Elrond leads you upon the most peaceful night of the season to a bridge beneath the stars. Twinkle as they do from their home far above your heads, the stars are the last thing to gain Elrond’s focus, his attention affixed solely upon your eyes. “You have drawn my thoughts more and more of late, meleth nîn.” “Oh?” You inquire simply, summoning a chuckle from deep in Elrond’s chest. “Indeed you have,” he lays a hand upon yours, “for to know you has been one of the greatest honors afforded to me. I care about you.” You mirror his soft smile when your name escapes his lips, gentle as a wish. “Then it is as I could only have dreamed,” you reply.

Lindir

Playing the most heart-wrenchingly gorgeous melody you’ve ever heard, Lindir watches you the entire time. Heart aflutter, you send him a smile and he looks pleased. Upon finishing, he strides over, looking with amusement at the little applause you give him. Words pour forth from you before you even realized you’ve formulated them, gushing again and again about the way his song touched you. “To know such love…what a dream,” you sigh. Lindir almost starts at that, raising his eyebrows. “Well, the song was about you, you know.”

[verbenaa]

to eden | chapter 8

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “You spoil me darling, really. But I am simple man—” Rin stops him off with a look of admonishment, cutting off his sentence to start her own.

“A simple show for a simple man, then.”She hopes her emphasis on the words will speak loudly enough for him to understand the meaning of them as she mockingly bows towards him.

“I take offense to that assessment, you know.” Astarion huffs with a frown, casting his head aside to instead take a sip of his errant goblet of wine, already forgotten beside him.

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F!Tav

𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E, 18+

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 14.8k 😮‍💨

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: mentions of torture/abuse, mild descriptions of blood/gore, striptease (?), fingering, cunnilingus, vampire bites (duh), handjobs, piv sex, multiple orgasms, Soft Dom Astarion returns 😌

𝒶/𝓃: hellooooo, sorry it's taken so long for me to get this written and posted! but it's here now and I very much hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts about the chapter, too!

ao3

masterlist

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

The air is quiet, the ever-present darkness lingering around them like a stagnant weight. Rin finds that she quite hates it, no matter how lovely the promise the warmth of Last Light Inn and its alcohol is to be. 

Her fingers are poised on one of the delicate strings of her lyre as she strums it lightly, a low hum reverberating out from the instrument that fills the air with what she hopes will be something that sounds effortless, beautiful, ethereal.

She frowns at the sound of it from where she leans against a conveniently placed rock near the fire, the note falling flat as it dies in the silence of the dark night.

“You’re off.” A familiar voice echoes out from above, the sound of it supercilious and downright annoying, as she huffs out a breath in minute agitation.

With a turn of her head, Rin sends Astarion a withering look from where he lounges, imperious, on the rock right above her; a book held in his hand as he reads by the light of the roaring fire. 

“And so is your stitching, but you don’t hear me calling you out on it, now do you?”

His stitching wasn’t, of course. It was always practiced, perfect, and near precise—Astarion as good with a needle as he was with a knife or an arrow. 

But, as always, he didn’t have to know that. He has enough of an ego as it is and Rin has no intentions of adding to it unnecessarily.

Astarion flips the page with unnecessary force, his obvious agitation dragging a secret smile to her lips that she hides into the strings of her lyre. 

He really made it far too easy to tease him, sometimes.

Astarion hmphs into the nighttime air, looking astutely back down at the book in his lap in an attempt to ignore her as she bites back a laugh that threatens to break free.

Rin turns her attention back to the instrument in her hands, fingers running down the carved edge of it as her mind wanders aimlessly in the silence and she stares out at the utterly boring landscape. 

It was pretty, she supposes, if one cared for a setting devoid of most kinds of life. Ultimately, there was just not terribly much for her to look at, leaving her with nothing but the amusement of her own thoughts, much to her frustration. 

There wasn’t much left for her to do but think, it seemed.

Rin had already eaten dinner while conversing with Gale; engaged in some gossip over a glass of wine with Shadowheart; discussed the merits of carnivorous fauna with Halsin; indulged Lae’zel in a practice sparring session (which she lost quite terribly, much to Astarion’s joy and Lae’zel’s disappointment at Rin’s apparent lack of skill); shared a nice pint from the inn with Karlach; and then watched on as Astarion drained poor Wyll dry of some gold in a game of cards (she’ll have to try to figure out how to get him his money back, one way or another).

She would probably have to beg Astarion to do it—something she was not eager to do, but would for the sake of Wyll and all his noble, princely goodness. 

Perhaps she should try to steal it off of him, instead. It certainly would make for a good challenge, at the very least, provided she didn’t get caught doing it. Rin has no doubt the cost for that particular crime would be steep, one that she doesn’t know if she can afford to pay for.

Astarion already spent enough time in her thoughts as it was, the price nothing more than that of her precious yet dwindling sanity. She already feels as though she is slowly losing her mind every time she replays the events of the other night over in her head, no longer than a mere week ago.

She and Astarion had both quite politely ignored the events of that night, the memory of the closeness of their lips and the things she had said settling into the recesses of her mind as if they were nothing more than a dream, one that haunts her when she lays down her head onto her sad excuse for a pillow. 

It was a lapse in judgment, at the very least. The klauthgrass had clearly addled her mind more than she thought when she looks back on it. It’s the only logical reason she would ever had said the things she did—whether spoken from her lips or written down in a letter never to be sent. 

She also still needed to burn the damn letter, but that was neither here nor there.

What mattered was that they had settled back into their usual camaraderie, trading cutting words and sly smiles back and forth with one another as they had always done despite a brand new, gently simmering tension that now lay just underneath the surface.

But it was fine. 

Rin was nothing if not an expert at ignoring the things that were bothering her, was she not? Their little…situation was simply that. 

A situation. 

One that was easily forgettable once she set her mind to actually forgetting about it.

Rin trades that particular line of thinking out with a deep exhale, shoving it back into a conveniently placed box in a corner of her mind and instead sets to retuning the instrument in her hands, worn pine both familiar and comforting as its weight rests against her.

Her wonderful, familiar lyre that had been with her for years now, through both thick and thin. It hadn’t helped her make terribly much gold, but it had been a better friend to her than any person had over the years.

She turns the pegs on the back of it little by little, tiny twists of her fingers adjusting the strings in a way she hopes will make her next attempt at song better and not worse. 

The night flows by as she sits in the warmth of the fire, the soft crackles of the logs soothing as Rin retunes the instrument until she’s finally happy with what she hopes will be a drastic improvement to the earlier noise it had made.

With a satisfied sigh, Rin moves to strum at her lyre, fingers just about to touch the strings when a biting voice interrupts her.

“I do hope you didn’t make it worse. My poor ears can’t take much more abuse.”

Rin ignores the jab with a serene blink before deigning not to answer as her raised hand closes into a fist, nails biting into her palm as she prays to anyone listening for an ounce of patience.

In lieu of violence—despite him deserving it—she sees a perfect opportunity to turn the conversation from another of her apparent failures onto one of his instead.  

She turns to look at him with a sly look, fixing him with clever eyes alight with mischief. 

“You know, Astarion, I happened to read something quite interesting in one of the books I found at The Waning Moon.”

Astarion turns another page in his book as he feigns disinterest, but his eyes don’t scan the rows of elvish decorating the page in neatly printed rows. “Oh? Do tell, then. Was it something violent? Gory? Scandalous?” 

“Scandalous, certainly. I seem to have come across a small little volume that contained a list,” Rin’s brows waggle conspiratorially. “A list of banned patrons.”

Astarion’s interest is firmly piqued as soon as she says the words, finally looking up from the tome in his lap to focus on her, indifference giving way to a fiendish gleam in his eye.

“You should have said so from the start. Tell me more, darling, what are the offenses? Give me all the sordid details.” 

He leans in closer from his seat above her, Astarion and his flair for the dramatic never failing to amuse her and she can’t help the equally wicked smile that spreads across her lips in response.

“Most of them were ordinary—you know, the standard. Bar fights, skipping the bill, unnecessary wanton activity with a pickle. But there was one that really stuck out to me, quite a striking description frankly. I think it said something along the lines of ‘a pale elf with a snide mouth’ that apparently insulted someone of particular importance. Sound familiar?”

“Well, whoever they are sounds like they had a fantastic time to me.” His smile is devious as he smirks. “In fact, I’d say that whoever it was deserved such words.” 

“Oh, I have no doubt. I’m sure the insults thrown were of the highest calibre, as well.” 

Astarion grin is a roguish one that looks terribly handsome on his features but something heavy intercedes over the amusement in his eyes as the deeper meaning behind that seemingly small and unimportant notation sinks in.

The smirk falls slowly from Astarion’s lips, a slight darkness settling across the features of his face as the corners of his mouth turn down ever so slightly.

Ah. Of course. 

“You have no memory of ever coming here, do you?” She softens her voice, only slightly, but she has no doubt Astarion notices the change regardless.

“No. I’ve already told you I don’t have many memories from my life before Cazador,” He snaps. “But clearly I’ve here before. Obviously.”

Rin had given some thought to the presumed Astarion of before in the rare moments of peace that were few and far in between, when her mind was free to wander before sleep overtook her. 

The Astarion that existed before the tadpole, before Cazador. Back when his heart still beat and his skin was flushed with life. Astarion, with not-red eyes, wearing finely tailored silks and wools, drinking the richest of wines; for he was sure to have been wealthy. 

She had spent many years watching the upper echelons of Baldur’s Gate from her place on the streets, staring up into their windows at twilight to watch them swoon and twirl in their finery, and Astarion moved like the best of them—graceful and elegant, proud and arrogant.

He had been a magistrate, or so he had said. 

She could only trust so many of the words that come from his lips, but somehow the image of Astarion in ostentatious robes handing down whatever judgement he deemed worthy is far too easy for her to envision for her to entirely disbelieve the notion.

But he must have had a family, surely. 

Parents, siblings, friends—perhaps even a lover or two. Or three, knowing him. 

Gods forbid he had sired any children.

But the implication remains all the same. So many questions, almost all of which he may never know the answers to. 

“You should be proud, Astarion.” Rin attempts a tiny bit of levity, though it doesn’t seem to help. “An annoyance both alive and undead. Not many could ever hope to achieve such a thing.”

“Well,” he sniffs with an air of put-on pride, smile weak. “It’s nice to know I’m consistent, at least.”

“You did get thrown out of a tavern last time you were here. Perhaps this trip to sweet, little Reithwin is faring much better than the one prior. Your last visit didn’t have me present, after all.”

“My last visit was probably still more peaceful, I’d wager. I doubt I was busy being vexed by a senseless blonde bard all the while having a worm buried in my head.” His voice raises a few octaves as he narrows his eyes at her. 

She would rather have his ire than his sorrow, it’s a much better sight than the mournful look beginning to creep over his features.

“Presumably weren’t being vexed by a senseless blonde bard.” Rin shoots Astarion a small smile. “Maybe you have a type.”

He only gives a mirthless laugh in response. 

“I am sorry, Astarion. I wish you were able to remember more.”

Astarion sighs, uncharacteristically defeated and the sound of it has her chest tightening. 

“Yet another thing I can add to the unending list of things that Cazador took from me. From us.”

“Us?” Rin muses over the word, the answer to a question she had long considered but never managed to ask, not amongst the seemingly never-ending amount of things that popped up on their list to be taken care of. “So, you aren’t the only one, then? Of Cazador’s spawn, I mean.”

She briefly worries she’s overstepped an invisible boundary, that Astarion will shut her down and storm away without another word, leaving her with no answer to the question.

Her curiosity about him grows with every passing day and she simply wants to know more about him. 

Not the charming, surface level vanity he would normally put forward for her, but the real Astarion. 

The one who tells her and only her small stories about himself and his life, the one who responds to her silly little letters, the one who had thanked her, with actual gratitude, drawing of his scars in hand.

The Astarion who—for some unfathomable reason—no matter how much he may complain or insult her, still chooses her above all others to spend his time with.

Rin turns to look up at him, the straightening of his spine obvious even in the darkness of the camp. Astarion, for his part, takes her question in stride, though there’s a telltale tightness around his mouth that signals his ever-present bitterness at Cazador’s mention.

He nods, the motion stiff as Rin’s brows draw together into a frown.

“There were seven of us, in all. Brothers and sisters, as he liked to call us. Quite the family.” Astarion lets out a derisive laugh, words acrimonious as he spits them out.

Ruby red eyes look ahead, his gaze catching on nothing in particular as he stares at the barren world on the other side of the water, the landscape as bleak as his expression.

“But I was one of his first. He was a monster to us all. Tortured us. Carved the same thing into my back as he did into all of theirs. But Cazador took a special pleasure in my pain. In my screams. He said my screams sounded sweetest.”

And oh, how her heart twists to hear the fragile timbre of his voice as his breath hitches, an undercurrent of agony flowing so readily and truthful from him. 

Rin averts her eyes as his voice breaks on the last few words, settling her vision on one of the red ferns flowing in the ever-present breeze in an attempt to let him keep some of his suffering to himself, to leave some of his dignity in tact.

It’s the least she can do. 

“And now that I’m gone…I don’t know. I pity the other six.” Astarion takes a deep, bracing breath, his sorrow palpable, and Rin’s chest aches again.

She doesn’t have anything to say, and how could she?

Oh, terribly sorry you spent two centuries being tortured unendingly. That must have been awful. You didn’t deserve it, Astarion.

No, any words of consolation she has only seem to fall flat in the face of his misery. He doesn’t need her to tell him about how horrible it is, how neither he nor his siblings deserved the pain, the anguish, the endless torture that Cazador dished out on a whim to bend and break them all to his will.

The only thing Rin can think to give him is her own paltry attempt at comfort as she leans in towards him slowly until her head rests just against the side of his leg in silent consolation. 

He doesn’t like to be touched at the best of times, but somehow she knows he would hate the inevitable pity he would choose to find in her words much worse. 

Astarion freezes, muscles tensing as if in wait for something, sending a sharp look down at the messily braided head now resting against his knee. But when nothing other than the presence of her subtle weight leaning against him ever comes, the only movement she makes the easy in and out of her breathing, he relaxes slightly.

Rin doesn’t dare to look up at him, instead returning her attention back to the lyre still in her arms. With a careful hand, her fingers come up to strum at a string, followed by another and another and another; music flowing out from the instrument in a slow, soft melody.

It’s nothing in particular that the plays; no well-known song or tune, only a series of notes and chords she pieces together with minimal thought that somehow manages to sound more lovely than anything she’s had luck playing the past week.

Eventually, she hears the soft rustle of a page being flipped once more as Astarion returns to his book, no words spoken to break the silence between them as Rin keeps her head resting just against him, playing her song just for him.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧ 

She should know better, by now, than to ever be surprised by the horrors they come across—and yet, as she had walked into the operating theatre of the so-called House of Healing, her footsteps quiet over the dark, ornate, and rotting woodwork, she still managed to be shocked by what she beheld as she had peeked over the railing.

She had noticed the man first. It was impossible to not have when his blood, a bright red incarnadine, was splattered across the walls and dripping onto the floors in sickly streams. She followed the trail of it to the source, taking in the carnage of his body; eyes no more than bloodied pits and mouth opened in silent scream as he writhes on the table, somehow still alive despite the butchering of his body. 

A moment later, her eyes drifted over to Doctor Malus Thorm in all his horror; elbow deep in his victim’s innards with hands that were no longer quite hands, digits turned instead into some sort of mechanical claws as he lectures aloud to the sightless nurses who stood uselessly around the body.

She had stepped into that theatre expecting a battle, her own blood to be added to all that had already been spilled and soaked into the grooves in the wood over the many years. 

Instead, she managed something quite different. Something possibly worse.

She hadn’t assumed that she would be able to kill him with only her words, not when the menace of him spelled violence and promised pain, a Shar devotee to the bitter end. 

And yet, it was with words that she had convinced him to sacrifice himself to his nurses, a dark turn of events that somehow seemed to fit the narrative of this terrible place all too well. 

She blames the power she feels when his body finally gives its last, miserable breath on the shadow curse, on the innate darkness of this place, on the tadpole. 

Any excuse works, so long as it covers up the fact that she had liked it.

It was the very same power she had felt when the other two Thorms fell; silvered words falling off her tongue to bend them to her will and end them both without her having to lift a single, gloved finger.

It had only been a small inconvenience to finish off the remaining Sisters of Mercy after they had done Rin’s dirty work for her, their trepans and bonesaws no match for her rapier, Karlach’s axe, Shadowheart’s spells, and Astarion’s blood thirst.

Her heart still beats too quick, the sound of it loud in her ears as she stands stock still on a bated breath—in fear, in anxiety, in a strange and twisted excitement.

It’s both thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. 

Rin wants nothing to do with it.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side.” Shadowheart remarks quietly with a laugh from beside her, breaking the silence of the aftermath. There’s a new awe present in the cleric’s voice that Rin hates the sound of.

Rin looks at her friend with a small smile. “So long as you don’t get in the way of me and a good time, we’ll be dandy.”

“I wouldn’t dare after that performance.” Shadowheart laughs, a twinkling little sound, and it breaks up a bit of the nerves that had settled in her chest.

“Well. That was positively sickening. Who knew there would be so much fun to be found here?” Astarion sheathes his dagger with a twist of his wrist, the added flourish elegant as blood flicks off the blade and splatters onto the ground. “Though I do wish for a more satisfying kill. I’m in desperate need of a snack.”

Karlach claps a hand on Astarion’s shoulder with enough force that he only just manages to keep his footing. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find something else alive for you to sink your fangs into.”

“Does all that blood not quite do it for you, Astarion?” Shadowheart gestures with a raised brow to the drops of blood still dripping off of the surgical table, a nauseating mixture of both the man's and Thorm’s blending together.

“Hardly.” Astarion crinkles his nose at the thick, dark ichor. “I’ve had worse, but it smells terrible and I can’t imagine it tastes much better.”

Rin glances up at Astarion beside her, taking in his somehow paler than normal complexion and a thought hits her, her brow furrowing in consideration.

When was the last time he had fed? 

And what on? 

He had been subsisting on a diet of—well, mostly her, honestly; along with the occasional forest creature.

Astarion certainly hadn’t tasted her since their last night on the Mountain Pass, longer than he’s ever gone without her blood since his first feed from her all those moons ago.

Rin had become so used to his little visits, popping into her tent during the evening to have his fill of her—blood and more. The absence of them since has felt surprisingly stark, a loss she didn’t realize she would mourn in the wake of the palpable tension that had settled between them no matter how hard they each attempted to ignore it.

For just as surely as he hadn’t drank from her neck, he had not come to taste the rest of her either; their nights spent instead trading remarks back and forth by the fire.

Not that she was complaining. 

Quite the contrary. 

She had found herself growing quite fond of this new aspect of their relationship that they had eased into; trading stories and anecdotes with each other over a bottle of wine or a game of cards, he reading his books while she plays her music, Astarion working on his stitching as she looks on and inevitably bothers him with her presence. 

It was…nice. Normal, almost. 

Or whatever their version of nice and normal was.

Rin snaps herself out of her thoughts with a blink and turns to her companions with a nod, hoping the daze she was in doesn’t show on her face. “Right then. Let’s loot, shall we?”

They meander their way about the rest of the room, navigating their way around the bodies and books scattered about the floor, some of the thin pages now soaked with the blood of the fallen. They don’t find terribly much, some gold here or an interesting text there. 

But mostly, it’s all useless.

Rin thinks that at one time, the quatrefoil tiles lining the floors of this place must have been beautiful—crisp, clean white contrasting against vibrant blue. 

Now, though, they are covered in long streaks of dark, sticky blood, the ichor long staining tile and grout alike; the corners of them chipping as they step over them on their way out of the long hallway at the entry of the building. 

Rin falls back beside Astarion as they make their way onto the uneven cobblestones of Reithwin, gnarled roots threatening to trip her as they grow up in between the grooves. With a small smile and nod, she gestures for Shadowheart to take the lead, the cleric walking ahead as her long braid bounces behind her.

She falls into step with him easily, matching his pace as she keeps her eyes ahead, always on the lookout for what the next danger to jump out at them will be.

“Have you been hunting recently?” It’s a casual question, no accusation in her tone as she stretches her arms behind her back.   

Astarion casts a surreptitious glance her way, eyes wandering across her profile as she stays looking ahead. “There’s precious little living here, my dear.”

“Then why haven’t you come to me? You’ve never cared about bothering me before when you would pop into my tent unannounced.” 

“I-” Astarion looks away from her for a moment before returning his gaze to her. “I assumed you needed a break to…replenish your sources."

His non-answer has one of Rin’s brows drawing up in skepticism, which he readily ignores. However, the thought of him perhaps not coming to her for her own health is almost sweet, if believable.

If. 

She’s not so sure that it’s the truth, but she will take it at face value, for now.

“Astarion,” she leans towards him to give him a slight nudge with her elbow, the touch light. “I think my ‘sources’ have been thoroughly replenished. You can feed on me tonight, if you’d like.” 

It would be careless of her, as a leader, to let him continue to starve himself. She’s only doing the most responsible thing by offering herself up to him again. It’s for the better of their entire party and Faerûn at large, wasn’t it? The Absolute wasn’t going to just disappear into thin air, after all. 

And if it happened to mean she got to spend a little extra time with him—well, that would be nothing more than luck on her part. 

“Well, if you’re offering, sweet thing,” His lips curl up in a smirk, eyes alight with a predator’s gleam at the promise of her blood. “Come find me in my tent tonight, darling, and we shall feast.”

“Feast? Shall there be something there for me then, as well?” Rin releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and glances up at him with a small, secret smile that has a corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

“Only the best for my favorite little treat.”

“Careful, you’ll spoil me.” If only, she thinks, and the thought is terribly traitorous as she bites down on a corner of her lip in hopes of stopping the pink that threatens to rise to her cheeks. 

But from the answering smirk on Astarion’s face as they venture further into the into the crushing darkness of Reithwin’s destroyed streets she thinks he must able to glean the thought on his own. 

“We can’t have that, now can we?”

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

Rin steels herself outside the flap of Astarion’s tent, readying herself for whatever waits for her inside. She isn’t sure why she’s so nervous. It wasn’t like he hadn’t fed from her before.

Or slept with her, for that matter.

There’s no flickering flame to be seen from the outside of his tent, nothing to give her any sort of hint of what possibly awaits her inside aside from him, his silhouette undecipherable in the darkness.

With a deep breath, she pulls the flap to the side and steps forward, a familiar scent—rich brandy curling together with earthy rosemary and fresh bergamot—swirling in the air as her eyes land on the vampire in question.

“Well,” Astarion lounges casually against his bedroll as his eyes find her own, leaning back on his elbows with enviable ease as a silver goblet rests beside him. “Hello there, darling.”

Her eyes are drawn to the exposed skin of his chest, the sight of him waiting for her shirtless so reminiscent to that first night together that she pulls up short.

It felt like eons ago, now; her traipsing through the forest outside of the Emerald Grove to find him waiting in a picturesque clearing for her and her alone. While there was no soft grass with charming little flowers to decorate the ground and no glittering moonlight to beam down upon them and highlight their skin as they moved together—she feels just as out of her depth now as she did then, when she had discovered him with his shirt already off and honeyed words just waiting to fall from his lips.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long again.” Rin snatches her eyes up from his chest to meet his own, a smirk already decorating his lips at her momentary distraction.

“Oh, I’ll always wait for you, beautiful.” Her eyes roll despite herself as she lets out a huff at such trite words.

“Did you need a nibble or should I see myself out?” She points behind herself to the exit of his tent for emphasis, brow arched.

“Let’s not be hasty, shall we?” Astarion answers a touch too quickly as he sits up a little higher, body tensing as if ready to jump up in the event she were to actually leave. “I would so hate to see you go.”

He must be hungry, then, if he’s so desperate for her presence.

Rin smiles at him as she looks around the tent expectantly, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she spies not a single treat aside from an empty goblet she presumes to be for her. “You know, I recall you promising me a feast.”

Astarion has the audacity to not look even the tiniest bit sheepish as her eyes narrow and her bottom lip juts out into a pout, a noise of frustration escaping from her lips. She should have known better than to trust a vampire when it came to procuring treats.

“I’m short on baked goods, pet, but I can promise you something else delicious instead.” His intent is obvious as he sends her a decidedly suggestive look. “Won’t you give me a show first, though?”

“I didn’t realize you were in need of entertainment, Astarion. I could always bring Volo in to recite some poetry while you dine, if you’d like.” 

“A charming idea, to be sure.” Astarion rolls his eyes. “But I was thinking of something a little more…intimate.”

Astarion eyes her form tip to toe as she stands in front of him, but it lacks the casual closeness she’s come to expect from him, something in the forced insincerity of the gesture grating.

“Make yourself comfortable. Stay awhile,” He gestures passively with a wave of his hand through the air towards where she stands as he continues. “Get yourself out of those wretched clothes, for example. You look much prettier without them on, anyways.”

Irritation sparks along the line of her mouth, emerald eyes sharpening as she stares at him. Weeks ago, the words would have had her blushing and the beginnings of desire kindling in her belly; but now they fall lifeless upon her ears, none of the ease and familiarity she has come to enjoy during their little interludes present in them. 

The words are merely mechanic—as calculated and practiced as they were on that very first night.

Worse, it doesn’t even seem like he enjoys saying the words, the sound of them hollow as they leave his mouth and the smirk pasted on his lips halfhearted.

It feels utterly obvious once she realizes what he’s trying to do and she can see through his ill-prepared idea with ease, this little power play of his nothing more than a paltry attempt to control their situation, some sort of damage control after the other night. 

They’ve both given too much of themselves now to return to the shallow, impersonal relationship they once had whether he likes it or not, and Rin will be damned if she lets him call the shots and force them back to the beginning.

But, if Astarion wants to play a game—well, she’s never been one to turn down an opportunity to win.

Rin looks down at her clothes with a pointed look and while they were perhaps nothing fancy—the oversized linen and worn leather may be simple but they were far from wretched. 

“Well. I’d hate to offend your delicate sensibilities.” Her smile is an inch too wide to be believable, betraying her irritation. “Shall I do a twirl for you as well? Or perhaps you would like a little trick?”

Rin holds up her hand, ready to ignis the damned tent if necessary to illustrate her point. Nothing that a few gold and a trip to dear Withers couldn’t fix if she accidentally managed to char him in the process.

“You spoil me darling, really. But I am simple man—” Rin stops him off with a look of admonishment, cutting off his sentence to start her own.

“A simple show for a simple man, then.” She hopes her emphasis on the words will speak loudly enough for him to understand the meaning of them as she mockingly bows towards him. 

“I take offense to that assessment, you know.” Astarion huffs with a frown, casting his head aside to instead take a sip of his errant goblet of wine, already forgotten beside him. 

His eyes are drawn quickly back to the center of his tent when he hears the soft rustle of fabric, returning to Rin just in time to catch a glimpse of her hands running down the front of her blouse. “It’s a perfectly reasonable one, if you ask me.”

Astarion frowns, opening his mouth to protest before quickly shutting it as her hands reach the waistband of her pants, fingers dipping just beneath the worn leather. Rin raises her brow, a teasing smile forming on her lips now that she has his attention.

Any irritation she feels is tempered by the thrill of Astarion’s gaze so set on her, his complete focus hers and hers alone as honest interest finally sparks to life in those red eyes of his.

With little flourish she begins to pull her leggings down her legs, peeling the pants away from her skin with less grace than she would prefer, but it would have to do. She kicks them to the side once she frees herself from them, uncaring where they land as she adjusts to the cool air of the night against newly bared skin that Astarion’s eyes rove.

“Do you think I should take this off next?” She thumbs at the hem of her shirt, examining the fraying stitching at the hem in desperate need of a mend. She’d have to ask Astarion to do it for her, damn it. “Since you find it so offensive and all that.”

“Be my guest, darling.” He gestures with a hand towards the garment, a corner of his mouth lifting. “I’ll even do you a favor and burn it for you for later.”

“How kind of you to go through all the trouble.” 

Rin’s smile is wry as she grabs the hem of her plain tunic and deftly lifts it over her head before dropping it. 

It drifts to the ground, fluttering down softly to fall in a graceless heap beside her bare legs, Astarion’s eyes darkening ever so slightly at the sight of her in nothing more than an unadorned corset and plain underwear, upping her confidence tenfold as she lets a corner of her mouth lift. 

“I suppose you’ll want to burn this too?” She runs her fingers teasingly across the top edge of the corset, her touch light as she brushes against the cotton and the plush of her breasts where they spill out above the garment.  

She hadn’t worn it with the intent of being admired, but when Astarion’s eyes follow every brush of her fingers against her breasts she’s suddenly quite grateful that she had chosen to wear it tonight instead of opting to go without as she normally would have, if only for it to act as a different kind of armor—one last layer to bolster her defenses in a battle she will surely lose. 

Astarion swallows, legs shifting slightly as his eyes caress over her curves. “We can negotiate the corset.”

“Your kindness truly knows no bounds.” Her fingers hover over the looped bow that sits at her breasts, tied in a hurry earlier after she had changed out of her armor.

The corset itself was nothing more than a plain ivory cotton—no expensive satin or fine boning—but when she pulls at the laces keeping the pretty little bow tied at the center of her cleavage, the tiniest bit of her full breasts exposed with the motion, the look in Astarion’s eyes could fool her into thinking it was the finest thing he had ever seen. 

Little by little, she pulls every cross of the laces, freeing more and more of herself with every delicate yank of her fingers as Astarion’s eyes obediently follow every inch of skin exposed until she reaches the last one, tugging it gently to loosen the final cross. 

It hangs loose around her form, the curve of her breasts just visible with the line of skin exposed down her chest. Rin wills her hands to steady under Astarion’s study as she brings them up to the straps on her shoulders, pushing each one off so she can shrug out of the garment. 

With one last push, the corset falls to the ground at her feet and she steps out of the circle of it before sending it aside with a soft kick.

Rin’s breasts pebble in the cool air, heat beginning to curl deep in her stomach under Astarion’s watchful gaze. She keeps her limbs loose, relaxed; her face at ease as she meets his eyes.

“You aren’t quite finished yet, my sweet.” Astarion’s voice is tight as he gestures with a brief nod towards her nearly naked form, gaze moving from her bare breasts and down lower to linger on her still-clothed center.

“You know, I think I’ve grown tired of being your entertainment,” She cocks her head to the side, unbound waves of darkened wheat—the color barely discernible in the darkness of his tent—cascading with the movement. “If you want them off so badly, do it yourself.” 

He raises a brow in question but obliges her nonetheless, moving from where he had been so indolently reclined against his bedroll as he watches her with keen eyes. 

With slow, careful steps Astarion makes his way towards where she stands before him and she is helpless but to admire the way his muscles shift on his lithe form, the grace with which he moves as he stalks closer to her that of a predator on the hunt for his prey.

And what was she, she supposes, if not his prey? It was why she had come here tonight, after all—to let him drink his fill of her blood with his lips at her neck, sucking down her life’s essence to his heart’s content.

She certainly feels like his prey, at least. How could she feel anything but when he moves around her in a slow circle, eyes brushing over her bared skin like a lover’s caress, knowing and intimate.

Astarion moves around her in another perfect circle before he finishes his perusal, stopping to stand behind her close enough to touch, his bare chest almost brushing against her spine. Familiar hands come to her waist as his head lowers to rest upon her shoulder, thumbs rubbing light circles into the skin. 

His lips press a featherlight kiss to her jaw that has her catching a breath. “Who said you were in charge here, my dear?”

His touch is electric against her skin, and Rin resists the urge to lean back into him, to press against the coolness of his chest and relish the feeling of his skin on hers. His mouth is terribly distracting where he adorns her with little kisses across the curve of her jaw and down the line of her neck, and she briefly wonders if he means to bite her just like this, held tight in the circle of his arms.

“Whoever said that you were?” Rin counters back with a glance out of the corner of her eye to where his cheek rests against her shoulder, ignoring the wetness that has begun to pool between her thighs. 

She has no intention of giving into his every want and demand, or at least not yet.

The hands bracketing her waist begin to move despite his protests, sliding down over her hips with frustrating slowness until he reaches the hem of her embarrassingly simple underwear. 

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” Astarion sighs dramatically against the column of her throat. “Must you be so difficult?"

There’s an unexpected fondness in his voice, an affection that she can’t remember if she’s ever heard so openly from him before that has the air around them changing; shifting from something practiced and performative to familiar and lovely and absolutely perfect.

The sound of it has a shred of something warm blossoming in Rin’s chest—unknown but not entirely unwelcome, she decides. 

He plays at the edge of her panties, fingers toying with the thin cotton where it rests against her skin on either hip, his touch sending another wave of heat straight to her core as she bites back a sigh at the sensation. 

“You should be aware by now that listening has never been one of my strong suits.”

“Yes, well,” Astarion’s fingers hook into both sides of her underwear before beginning to pull, the garment sliding down over her hips and bottom as Astarion sinks down with it. “You seem to remember how to follow my instructions when it counts, dearest.”

He drops silently to his knees behind Rin, dragging her underwear down her legs as he goes, each slide of the fabric against her skin only serving to heighten the heat kindling inside her. She gingerly steps out of each leg, desperately wishing she could see what he must look like lowered behind her in such a manner—the sight of him on his knees surely one that she has seen in her dreams of him. 

But before she can make up her mind to steal a glance or even just turn, Astarion is gliding back up her body, hands glancing against her skin as he goes, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. 

“You know, I thought I came here for you to feed on.” It’s an effort to keep her voice steady as his arms wrap back around her waist, touch cool against her skin.

His head lowers back to her ear, lips brushing against the shell as a shiver of anticipation runs down her spine. “Oh, you did. But I don’t see why we can’t have a little fun as well. It’s been awhile, darling, and I’ve missed you.” 

A hand traces down her stomach in a teasing touch; long, sweeping lines of his fingertips back and forth across her skin brushing down until he reaches the apex of her thighs. 

Astarion moves at a glacial pace as his fingers dip lower and lower until they find their way to her center, swiping through her folds to spread her essence on the tips of them as Rin’s head falls back onto his shoulder, a sigh escaping her lips as he explores. 

“Miss my blood or miss me?” Rin’s lashes flutter shut as he runs his fingers up and down her, careful to avoid the two places she wants him to touch most as she flushes at the evidence of her arousal he finds.

“Can’t it be both?” His fingers finally find her entrance, tracing around the edge in slow circles as she sharply inhales. 

She’s not ready to admit how much she wants to believe him that he had missed her, had missed this—the easy intimacy they had been building together bit by bit. It’s a dizzying thought, one that has her heart skipping a beat that he surely can hear this close. 

“With you? Unlikely.”

“Why, you think so little of me, darling.” Astarion punctuates his words with the press of a finger slowly in; and were it any other time, the mock outrage coloring his voice would draw a laugh from her. 

This time, however, he draws a moan from her instead as he pushes deeper, seating his finger inside her before slowly withdrawing.

“Give me more to think about, then.” Rin sighs, lips opened as she tries to still her hips.

“Only if you ask nicely.” He smiles into her skin, lips brushing against the column of her throat as he pushes back in, sliding home to the knuckle.

Her mind ceases to a halt on whatever clever words she had been preparing when a hand draws up to her breast and cups it, Astarion’s touch a balm against her over-warm skin as he runs his thumb over the hardened peak.

Astarion’s finger moves only barely inside her, but it’s enough for Rin to feel it, friction building in her core with the simple motion. She should be embarrassed by how quickly he has worked her up, her ire so easily forgotten when wrapped in his arms and at the mercy of his skilled hands.

He’s lucky that she likes him, for she would never allow anyone else such lenience. Though, she would never allow anyone else the opportunity to get quite so close to her, either—a thought that borders on terrifying if she thinks too long about it.

A second finger joins the first, and she welcomes the slight stretch as he finally begins to pump them while he mouths at her neck, moving in a steady rhythm that has a fire burning deep in her core as she moans in relief.

Astarion’s pace is easy and unconcerned as he thrusts in and out lazily, slowly building her up higher and higher with every press forward. Her curls pillow against his pale skin as she sighs at the pleasure coursing through her, that welcome heat billowing deep inside her. His thumb finds her clit and rolls against it in soft circles as her lips open in a low moan, limbs tightening at the added touch. 

The hand cupping her breast runs back down to her waist to wrap around the circle of it, fingertips stroking her skin as he secures her closer to him and the outline of his cock presses hard against her ass.

Rin can feel the grin he hides in her neck as he breathes in the scent of her and his fingers curl, searching for the place to make her fall apart under his hands. He moves them just right, finding that one spot, and she cries out as her hips buck into his palm. 

“Ah, Astarion!” 

“Yes, darling?” He curls his fingers again and she practically melts in his hold, the arm he has wrapped around her waist squeezing tighter to keep her upright. “Did you have something you wanted to say?”

He could finish her off so easily, the bastard; only a few more presses of his fingers and she would be done for, but Rin doubts that Astarion has plans to let her off so easily. 

Astarion has never outright denied her the release she craves, but he certainly likes to make her work for it.

“Only that I don’t want you to stop.” The words come out sounding more wanting than she would prefer, but she’s beyond the point of summoning up a care.

Astarion tsks, and as if on cue his fingers slow to a stop before pulling them from her body. Rin whines in protest as she lifts her head to glare at him, narrowed eyes meeting amused ones as he simply smirks back at her.

“Sorry, dear, I didn’t catch that.”

Astarion spins her around in his hold, her breasts pressing against his own bare chest as his hands run up and down her waist. A quick glance down and she can see the evidence of his own arousal, his cock pushing urgently against her stomach, still hidden by pants that she needs to rid him of preferably sooner rather than later.

“Liar. You heard me just fine.” Rin’s arms wrap around his shoulders as she leans in closer to him.

“It’s neither here nor there.” Astarion begins to walk her back, the two of them stepping together as he leads her towards his bedroll. “There’s no need to rush. Now, lay down.”

Rin arches her brow at his bossiness, but doesn’t argue as she lowers herself to the ground and spreads herself out on his bedroll. She frowns when she sits, the surface not nearly as soft as it should be, an unfamiliar hardness beneath her.

“Astarion, what in the hells is it that I am sitting on?” She shifts to peek underneath the blankets, spying some sort of wooden thing underneath her.

“Are you really going to ruin the mood to ask me about something so stupid? You are truly impossible.” Astarion looks down on her with a pointed scowl as he moves to kneel down before her, his lithe muscles shifting as he crawls over to her in smooth movements. 

“I’m not the one sleeping on a plank of wood every night. Have you no standards for good night’s trance? No wonder you’re so touchy all the time.”

He’s upon her in mere moments, an elegant hand finding the space just below her collar bone as he only answers her with a stern look. This thumb runs along the line of it, brushing against the skin as his eyes follow the motion. 

Rin looks down at the hand poised on her chest, so pale against the sun-warmed gold of her own, and brings her own up to run fingertips down the back of his. She swears she can see him shiver at the touch, a barely noticeable intake of his breath as her hand rests on top of his.

Astarion’s eyes cut up to hers, and with a raise of his brow, he pushes her backwards.

Rin lets him do it, lowering herself back with the help of his little push until her head hits his pillow, a rush of his scent surrounding her as she lays. His hand still rests on the skin of her chest, the weight of it like a scorching brand as she stares up at Astarion as he cages himself above her.

She doesn’t know what he sees when he looks down upon her, hair most likely curling in an unruly halo around her head and cheeks undoubtedly colored an unbecoming shade of pink, but his eyes run over what feels like every inch of her face before his hand begins to move, tracing a featherlight line down her skin. 

Her stomach jumps underneath the drag of his fingertips as his touch stops low, their eyes meeting together in a heated glance as Rin waits with bated breath.

Astarion’s head lowers towards her, and her heart beats a little faster at the thought of his lips meeting hers, the want she has been blatantly ignoring the past week begging to break free from its confines safe in the corner of her mind.

But instead, Astarion’s lips find her neck, placing a kiss on the two pinprick scars that decorate the column of it before running them across her skin—kissing over her collar, upon the peak of her breast, down her ribs one by one.

She gasps at the feeling as he drags his lips down her body, her skin flushed with desire.

He’s kissing the sensitive skin just below her stomach with teasing presses of his lips when she speaks, breathless and wanting. “Astarion, don’t you want to feed?”

Cool hands travel down the curve of her waist and over her hips before reaching her soft skin of her thighs, palms running over the tops of them as he settles himself in between her legs.

“Oh, I do.” Astarion makes to spread her thighs further, pushing them wide. “Don’t you worry, my dear, I’ll get my fill.”

Rin’s cheeks fill with heat as he moves his gaze to her bare center, running claret eyes over her as she sucks in a breath. With little ceremony, his head moves forward and his tongue glides along her center, lapping at her wetness. 

Her hips buck up into Astarion’s face as she reaches down to grab at his soft, downy curls as he circles the pearl at the top of her sex, the tip of his tongue light as he traces shapes along it.

He laps at her clit as she tries to quiet her mouth, holding back her moans and cries as best she can as he works her up ever higher. With a last circle, Astarion’s tongue ventures further down, abandoning her clit to instead run through her folds, groaning at the taste of her before exploring the wetness that has collected at her entrance. 

“Asta—” Rin gasps sharply as his tongue traces around the edge of her, so like he had with his finger earlier—ever teasing. He dips in her entrance, the tip of it whorling against her before pushing deeper. 

Her hands scrabble for purchase in his hair as he licks inside her, eating her out in earnest as her thighs tremble around his head. She swears that she can feel him chuckle against her as he tastes, tongue curling inside her as she grasps his soft curls harder between her fingers.

He thrusts his tongue deep and she keens, back arching off the bedroll as her hips roll against his mouth, chasing the heat coiling deep inside her with every press of his tongue. It’s a different sensation than that of his fingers, but no less welcome or wonderful as the feeling in her belly tightens more and more. 

She’s terribly close when his mouth leaves her, and she mourns the loss of his tongue for mere seconds before he fills her with fingers that press urgently, curling just right as his lips kiss their way to her thigh.

“Do it.” She spreads wider for him, and she can hear his satisfied hum against her skin before he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth in the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

The familiar ice of his bite hurts far too good, the frosty pain warring against the heat surging through her limbs as he drinks from her, blood running in scarlet rivulets down her thigh to stain the worn blanket beneath her.

Astarion’s messy as he drinks, her hips writhing in time with the fingers still artfully working inside her. Her back arches as she tries to quiet her cry, a fist curling into the threadbare blanket below her.

The metallic scent of iron tinges the air of the tent as he drinks and Rin can’t help the moan that falls from her open mouth at the feeling of his lips on her skin, sucking and licking and—gods, kissing. 

“There, please.” His fingers hit perfectly, over and over again, and her thighs tremble. “Please don’t stop.”

Astarion sucks hard at the bite as she begs, fingers keeping pace with the movement of her hips as he drinks down another surge of her blood. With only a few more presses of his fingers, curving just right to hit exactly where she needs him, Rin comes.

A hand unclenches from the blanket to cover her mouth as she muffles her moan into her palm, back arching as precious heat courses through her limbs and her hips writhe. 

Pleasure whites out her thoughts as Astarion fucks her through her orgasm with his fingers; lips and mouth still pullings sips of her blood from her thigh all the while.

She comes back to herself as his fingers slow and he peppers kisses to her leg, lapping up any stray drops as they fall from the wound. Astarion pulls his fingers from her gently, another hum of satisfaction breaking free as he brings them to his mouth and sucks, tongue licking her come clean from the digits.  

She’s still floating in a euphoric haze when Astarion finally rises from between her thighs, appetite sated and pale skin flushed with the slightest hint of pink from the blood that once belonged to her now flowing through his veins.

His mouth is glistening with her—her blood, her arousal, her scent. She’s entranced by the sight of it as Astarion licks his rouged lips, tongue swiping at a small drop of blood at the corner of his mouth that threatens to roll down his chin.

“Did I taste as good as you had hoped?” Rin’s chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath in the aftermath, the words no more than a whisper.

A corner of Astarion’s mouth lifts upward as he runs his eyes over her; from his mark on her thigh, over her sex, and up her flushed form beneath him until he meets her eyes. “Better.”

Rin’s breath hitches as he kisses his way back up her body with warmed lips, leaving a trail of red upon her skin with every touch of his lips, small blooms of her crimson blood like stains of watercolor.

He kisses up the valley between her breasts before turning his head, lips running over the plump curve of one before capturing her nipple, sucking at it before flicking his tongue against the bud. Rin’s back arches at the unexpected touch, more heat already kindling as he gives it a hard suck.

Astarion pops off her breast to kiss towards its twin, her hands burying back in his hair as he sucks at her other nipple, laving it with his tongue as a whine breaks free from her lips before she urges him higher, fingertips running through his curls. 

He obliges, placing one last kiss upon the tip of her breast before moving to bury his head in her neck, licking a line up the column of her throat, the very tip of his tongue tracing a thrumming vein.

Rin wraps her arms around his shoulders, hands running over the corded muscle as he slots himself between her legs, his still-clothed erection brushing against the too-sensitive skin of her thighs.

It simply wouldn’t do, she decides. 

“Let me touch you. Please,” she runs her hands down his chest to dance over his skin until she reaches the waistband of his pants, his cock painfully hard as it strains against the fabric. “I want to touch you, Astarion.”

She’s taking a chance by asking, but it’s one she’s willing to try her luck for.

Despite how many times she’s enjoyed the feeling of him inside her or how well he’s come to learn her body, he’s never quite allowed her the same opportunity to touch or taste him.

She knows enough of his past—he’s told her plenty of the many different people he had taken for Cazador against his will and under duress, his body used without the ability and choice to say no.  

“I want to make you feel good too, Astarion.” Rin peers up into his eyes, fingers no longer trailing along him as she pauses, waiting patiently for a real answer. “Do you trust me?”

His gaze is intense as it meets her own, the heated desire in his eyes tempering for a moment to give way to a tentative vulnerability that crosses over them as he considers her words. 

“I-” Astarion speaks softer than she had expected as he breaks off, gaze intent on hers as the weight of the implication that he has a choice—one that is his and his only to make—bears down on him. “—I do.”

“Only if you want me to. You have to promise me that you want it.” She urges, hands flattening on his abdomen as excitement stirs in her chest.

“Fine. I promise that I want it.” Astarion snaps, but his words lack any real bite as a corner of his lips quirk up into a crooked smile. “Show me what you’ve got, then, if you’re so eager.”

Rin moves slow as her hand slides back down his pants and over the curve of his hardened length, caressing him over the fabric as she feels him, cupping his length softly before flitting back up to join the other still at the waist of his pants.

Astarion’s breath catches at her touch before on his own hands comes down to help as she pushes the barrier down, freeing his length from the confines of his clothes. In a smooth motion, his pants and underwear are down his legs and off, baring his erection.

Precome shines at the tip of his cock as she runs her fingers down him in a barely there caress from top to bottom, his length twitching with the motion as Astarion draws in a harsh breath.

Her eyes stay on his as she grazes the soft skin again, watching for any sign she should stop as she runs her fingers along a prominent vein that runs along the side of him. 

He’s velvet soft under her palm as she wraps her fingers around his shaft, giving him an experimental pump of her hand, touch gentle as she revels in the feel of him.

“Is this alright?” Rin looks up at him from under lowered lashes.

Her hand glides up, brushing over the head of him as she collects the precome leaking from his slit, running her fingers over it before caressing down to the base once more. 

“By all means, please continue.” Rin knows he means for the words to be casual and unaffected, but there’s already a telling breathiness to Astarion’s words that has her smirking.

The weight of him in her hand is nothing short of perfect as she gently wraps her fist around him, stroking him. Astarion moans and it’s the easily one of the most beautiful things Rin’s ever heard, the sound of it sending a spike of heat to her core.

She brings her other hand to her mouth, running her tongue over her palm before it joins the other around his cock and the added bit of glide has Astarion gasping as his hips jump. 

His head falls heavy onto her shoulder as she works him, careful pumps of his length bringing him closer to the edge far faster than she ever thought possible with only her touch. 

His cock weeps as Rin glides her fingers over the crown of him again, collecting more of the precome that glistens at the tip. Her hands move together, one carefully massaging the head of his cock while the other strokes at the base, the breathy moans leaving Astarion’s lips only serving to spur her on further as she works him closer to the edge. 

“Does this feel good, Astarion?”

“Gods, yes.” He shudders in response, lips open against her skin as he presses a messy kiss into her shoulder.

Her palms move faster, intent on his undoing, his pleasure at her hands nothing short of exhilarating. 

Gods, she would let him come wherever he wanted. Onto her stomach, across her breasts, down her throat—the thought is enough to send another spark of electricity to her empty core.

“Ah, darling,” Astarion’s voice is tight as he buries his face deeper into her neck, hips bucking into her hand as she works him from the crown of his cock to the base, his breathing getting harder with every stroke. “Much more and you’ll spoil the main event.”

“I’ll stop, if that’s what you want.” Rin slows her motions as he catches his breath against the column of her throat, so close to his own completion she can practically feel it in the way his body shakes above her own, muscles quivering with the want of release. “But would it be so awful if you were to come like this? On my hands, all over my skin?”

Astarion raises his head from her neck, pupils blown wide and hair thoroughly disheveled as he pants. “Decidedly not, but I think I want to fill that sweet cunt of yours tonight instead.”

“If you say so.” She brings one of the hands that had been stroking him to her mouth, the tip of her tongue peeking out between her lips to lap at a shining string of precome still sticking to her skin, savoring the flavor of him for the very first time.

Astarion swallows hard, eyes fixated on the pink of her tongue as she wraps her mouth around the tip, sucking lightly. She smiles sweetly around it, lips pink and plush, as she sends him a wink.

With a soft pop, she pulls her finger out of her mouth before moving to twine her arms around his neck, running through the soft curls at his nape. “I wouldn’t mind getting to taste more of you, either, if you’d let me.”

“Salacious girl. Whatever am I supposed to do with you?” That same fondness from earlier sneaks back into his words as she gazes up at him with as much innocence as she can muster.

“Hmm,” Rin muses, pretending to think through her answer as her fingers toy with his hair. “Whatever you want, I suppose.” 

“Whatever I want?” Astarion’s brows raise in mock surprise. “You might come to regret those words, darling.”

“I find that sometimes I don’t mind being at your mercy.”

“Your self-preservation instincts need some reevaluating, my dear.”

“Is that what you think?” She laughs as her fingertips abandon his wild curls to dance absentmindedly across the lines of his shoulders.

“What I think is that these wandering hands of yours are trouble.” Astarion leans down to whisper into her ear, a smirk decorating his lips as they brush against the point of them. “It’s a pity I don’t have any pretty ribbon at my disposal to tie them up with.”

Nimble fingers move to find and circle her wrists with surprising delicacy as he removes them from around his neck to instead guide her arms up to rest around her head. 

Desire pools deep in her belly at the mere mention and she doesn’t even try to fight against Astarion’s hold, not when there’s nothing she wants more than to be at the mercy of his hands. 

“So, you’ll just have to be a good girl and keep these up here for me.” His hands encircle her wrists so very easily as he applies the slightest bit of pressure on them to illustrate his point. “Can you do that? I know you have a very hard time following directions.” 

“I’ll try my hardest, but I make no promises.”

His hands slide down from her own where he left them resting above her head as he rises back to his knees, running over her breasts to anchor at her waist before he takes in the sight of her—warm skin and eyes bright and utterly alive. 

He fits perfectly between her thighs as he moves his hips to slide his length through her folds, her slick coating him with every pass.

“No touching,” Astarion tuts. “Don’t forget.”

“Like I said, no promises. But I’ll give it a fair shot.” Rin grinds her hips against his erection, still gliding up and down her slit.

Astarion’s only response is a raise of his brow as he positions himself at her entrance, the head of his cock barely pressing against her as he smirks, moving his hips away every time she tries to move hers forward.

Teasing. Always, always teasing.

Rin rolls her hips against his own as Astarion finally pushes forward, hilting himself inside her warmth in a smooth thrust, twin moans escaping from their lips at the feeling as he fills her completely.

His hands caress down to her thighs where they open for him, thumbs running up and down soft skin marred only by the red of his own bite, the marks smeared with still drying blood.

Astarion’s hips finally move, pulling away from hers only to push forward again until he bottoms out, burying himself deep. Rin relishes the feel of him moving inside her with a soft moan as she throws her head back against his pillow, back arching as he settles his hands on her hips to pull her deeper onto his cock.

His thumbs grip into her skin as he thrusts into her, hips meeting her own with long, deep strokes that have her trying and failing to hold back the little noises of pleasure that loose from her lips.

She yearns to move her hands from where they still rest above her head—yearns to drag her fingers across his skin or wrap her arms around his neck to draw him closer to her—but she resists the temptation, settling on moving her hips instead.

Rin grinds against his cock buried deep inside her as she moves her hips to match his own, thrust for thrust, the slide of him achingly flawless as they move together.  

“Gods, you’re absolutely perfect.” The words slip out of Astarion’s lips, murmured low on a hard thrust. She tightens around him as the praise washes over her, lips opened on a barely restrained whimper as her lashes lower.

He’s more than beautiful in the darkness as he throws his head back on a moan, the drag of his cock smooth as he hits deep and she craves more—more closeness, more of his touch, more of his lips. 

“Kiss me,” she gasps and instantly regrets the words and the desperation of them as her hands still lay obediently above her head, her back arching with every thrust.

Astarion’s hips stutter, losing their rhythm as he looks down at her, fixating on the petal pink of her lips, and Rin’s heart practically stops at what she sees when he looks at her.

A hand traces its way up from her hip to grab hold of her chin, touch firm as Astarion’s eyes move away from her lips to stare into her own, searching for something in the verdant depths of them. His gaze is alight with a precious heat that threatens to burn every inch of her—the fire she’s secretly dreamed of seeing there in his eyes when he looks at her.

His lips crash into hers with no words or preamble, meeting her half way as she surges her head up and their lips press together. Her arms lift, leaving their resting place above her head to wrap around his neck as Astarion’s tongue runs against the seam of her lips in askance, her own parting eagerly for him.

She can taste the remnants of herself on his lips, both the richness of her cunt and the metallic tang of her blood; and it’s heady, it’s divine as his lips chase after her own as they kiss and kiss and kiss, his hips still joined with hers all the while.

The hand that had been poised on her chin strokes upward, running over the plane of her cheek in a barely there touch that has her heart stuttering as their lips move.

Gods, she’d been wishing for the feeling of his lips on hers, and if the only way she can get it is when he fucks her, then so be it. 

It’s not the only kind of kiss she wants from him but it’s the kiss she will take, desperate despite her every wish otherwise.

She’s gasping when Astarion finally breaks the kiss, taking in precious breaths of air as his lips lift only just away from hers. His hips slow and Rin looks questioningly up at Astarion, arms still twined tightly around his neck.

A small burst of panic bubbles up in her chest as she feels him slide out her, hips pulling away from hers to leave her empty; and worry that she had perhaps done something wrong or said something she shouldn’t have fills her mind. 

“Astarion? Is everything alright? Did I—” she cuts herself off as the hand at her cheek brushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear while its twin travels up her thigh to curve around her waist, urging her body upwards with a gentle pull.

“Let’s try something a little different, hm? Now, up.”

His hold is tight—secure—as they both shift to sitting, Astarion helping her along the way until she is upright in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs as she hovers.

“Now, tell me, sweet thing. Have you ever been fucked like this before?” His eyes pierce into her own as a hand curls around the back of her head, fingers tangling in her curls.

“No.” Rin shakes her head from side to side, biting her lip as his length finds her entrance once more, pushing with the barest hint of pressure against her.

“Good.” 

With a swift thrust, Astarion sheathes himself inside of her as his lips capture hers, swallowing her answering moan as Rin arches against his chest. The hand wrapped around her waist travels down, fingertips squeezing into the flesh of her ass to help guide her hips up and down his cock.

They’re on equal footing like this, noses brushing against each other’s as their bodies work, Rin’s hips meeting Astarion’s own in a smooth cadence. The closeness—the intimacy of it—is intoxicating as their lips meet again and again, arms wrapped around each other as their fingertips dig into each other’s skin.

It’s not as fast or as hard as she’s used to, but somehow it’s better—the lack of quick thrusts is made up for instead by hard rolls of their hips, Astarion reaching the deepest part of her core as they hold each other close, not an bit of space between them.

His length brushes against what feels like every inch of her walls, sending sparks through her body as the heat coiling in her stomach rises higher with every move they make.

Rin is only mildly aware of the marks he left on her thigh breaking open once more, tiny drops of her blood leaving ruby red smears against both her and Astarion’s flesh as her hands map the planes of his face and their lips press.

Any other time, she would be blushing at the noise of their bodies moving together, the wet glide of his length driving in and out of her and the sound of skin on skin audible in the confines of Astarion’s tent; but instead she’s unabashed as she moves up and down his cock and he thrusts up to meet her, moans falling freely from both of their mouths as their kiss breaks.

She’s getting closer and she can tell he is too, the intensity of his thrusts only getting harder and deeper as every roll of his hips has his length brushing against her sweet spot as she loses her rhythm against him as her body begins to quake.

“Eyes on me.” Astarion’s forehead presses into hers as her lashes flutter, the height of her pleasure curling around her, ephemeral and just out of reach.

The heat burning inside her reaches a crescendo, his name whispered from her lips on a broken gasp as her hold on him tightens, fingertips digging into his skin.

She’s tremulous as she tightens around him and he kisses her moans from her, quieting the sound of them as her hands grasp for purchase around his shoulders and he pumps his cock, hitting the very same spot that never fails to have her falling apart in his arms. 

Rin sees stars behind her eyes as she tumbles over the edge of the crest, constricting hard on him as she comes on a near silent cry. Her hips writhe as Astarion holds her steady despite the ragged moan that falls from his lips as he watches her fall apart with half-lidded eyes.

She’s clinging to him as she rides out the rest of her orgasm on the hardened length still thrusting inside her, Astarion working her through the waves of pleasure that suffuse through her limbs.

A dreamy, hazy euphoria descends over her like a fog as she finally comes back to herself, her first thought to press another kiss to the pair of lips that still brush against hers. 

Rin takes a lungful of air on a deep breath, beginning to move her hips against his once more despite the contented exhaustion blanketing her as she speaks with a soft, teasing lilt. “I thought you were going to come in my sweet cunt, Astarion.”

“Still the plan, darling.” Astarion’s lost in his own pleasure as he speaks, eyes fixated on her own as his hips snap hard into hers.

The hand on her ass tightens, fingertips near bruising as Astarion’s thrusts begin lose their rhythm in the wake her orgasm, the feeling of her cunt spasming around his length as she had come only serving to drive him closer to his own completion.

Her fingertips run down his cheek as he looks at her, his control breaking on every push of his hips that she meets readily.

“Then do it,” She whispers. “Please come for me, Astarion.” 

Rin presses her mouth to his in a hard kiss, gasping as he changes the angle of his thrusts to hit the very end of her cunt.

At her words, Astarion follows her over the edge, moaning his ecstasy into her lips as he comes. His hips rut frantically against hers, spilling himself inside her with unrestrained thrusts. 

Rin grasps him tighter as his orgasm rushes through him, taking each and every sound that falls from him as he works through the waves of pleasure coursing through his limbs. 

Finally, Astarion’s hips slow to a halt as their chests heave, still locked in their embrace, the haze of the aftermath floating around them. His lips press against hers one last time before he ducks his head to fit against her neck, breathing in the scent of her.  

Rin’s not sure how long they stay like that, both catching their breath as her arms hang loose around him, Astarion’s face still buried in her neck as his fingers grip around waist. 

Eventually, it’s Astarion who moves first, gently pulling his softened cock from her as he lifts his head and leans back towards his bedroll, taking her down with him. 

They lay next to each other on the ruined blanket, a light sheen of sweat sticking to their skin.

“That was—” Astarion starts, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to push it out of his face.

Rin finishes the sentence for him, her heart still beating in a staccato rhythm. “Amazing? Fantastic? The best sex you’ve ever had?”

“Well, you think quite highly of yourself, don’t you?” Astarion turns his head to face her, brow raised.

Rin leans in, bumping their foreheads together in a light touch before whispering her reply on a smile. “That wasn’t a no.”

Astarion rolls her eyes and she laughs, and she swears she can see the slightest hint of pink coloring his cheeks, no doubt from the help of her blood still running through him.

He sits up, stretching his arms above his head, the muscles in his back shifting and Rin lets out an appreciative hum at the sight. 

“Oh, and Astarion.” Rin smiles as she rolls her shoulders, settling further into the blanket. “If you burn my shirt, I will be forced to take action. Possibly with a knife. Just so we’re clear.”

His head whips back to glance at her, a wicked look in his eye. “Flirting again already? Give me a moment to recover, dearest.” 

Astarion’s eyes skate down her naked form, still lying in a boneless heap upon his bedroll. 

“Gods, look at you. You’re an absolute mess.” She can feel the blood drying on her thighs and on the spots where he had left bloodied kisses up her body, his come threatening to spill out of her with even the slightest movement. “Get ahold of yourself, darling.”

“An absolute mess that you made.” Rin peeks down to look at herself, skin still flushed and dotted with red marks in the vague shape of his lips.

“I’d gladly make it again, too.” Astarion turns back to the side, reaching for a spare decanter of presumably water and grabbing a piece of soft cloth.

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.” 

She takes in the bloodied blanket beneath her as she hazards a stretch, reaching her arms above her head as her feet point, back arching as she comes up to her elbows. 

“Has anyone ever told you that your bedroll is absolutely awful? How you manage to sleep on something so hard is beyond my ability to imagine. We should steal you a new one.”

Even with the awful plank beneath her, it would be so easy to stay on a night like tonight. Too easy to imagine settling into his side, the now familiar contours of his body beside her own as they rested together, limbs tangling. She’s never slept in anyone’s arms before that she can remember, and she wonders how it must feel to spend hours simply wrapped in Astarion’s embrace and then to wake up next to him at first light.

Please ask me to stay. 

The words come from a deep, dark part of her mind unbidden; but the wanting they bring with them threatens to ruin her as her heart beats harder.

“Or you could always come share mine, I guess. I promise I’ll keep you nice and warm.” It’s a risk speaking those kind of words, Rin crossing a line they’ve never dared to before.

Astarion’s body tenses slightly, the line of his shoulders stiffening.

He dips the mouth of the decanter over onto a spare cloth to wet it before turning back to her, expression strangely blank. The sight of it puts her ill at ease, as if the warm intimacy they had shared had been snuffed out like a candle’s flame. 

Astarion runs the cloth over her form, erasing any evidence of him from her skin. His spend, the blood on her thighs, the messy kisses up her chest—all of it gone with a simple brush of water on cloth.

She nods her thanks, her heart sinking as regret burns in her throat. 

“Well, it’s been lovely. You’re always such a treat.” Astarion summons a veil across his eyes, an empty smirk on his lips as he sets the cloth to the side. “You should go get some sleep, darling. Who knows who else you’ll need to convince to kill themselves tomorrow.”

It’s like a slap to the cheek—cold water to wake her from the warm embrace of a dream. It wasn’t the first time he had said such words to her, but this is the first time she realizes that she hates them with every fibre of her being.

“Oh.” She bites her lip, hoping she hides her disappointment well enough; but from the way Astarion averts his gaze to focus on an invisible point on other side of the tent, she doesn’t need to worry much. “I suppose you do need your beauty sleep, don’t you? Far be it from me to get in the way.”

Rin doesn’t want to hear what he has to say, she decides, as she pulls herself up to sitting beside him. She’s not certain she can look at him either, not at the cool and aloof expression that seems to have taken residence across his features. 

He hadn’t looked like that when he kissed her. 

No, he had looked the exact opposite, his expression mirroring the longing she knows had been etched onto her own as their lips had met.

Without a word, Rin stands and walks over the blankets heaped along the floor to where her clothes lay discarded in a heap, her footsteps soft against the ground. 

Silently, she redresses, not bothering with the corset as she leaves it unlaced at her feet and pulls the rest of her clothes back on with perfunctory ease. Her tunic is partially over her head when she dares a look back at Astarion, the collar floating down to rest against her skin as she turns her head.

His face is imperceptible as he watches her, sitting still as stone. She forces a small smile, hoping that the dejection she feels doesn’t come across as she speaks to him one last time for the evening.

“Sleep well, Astarion.”

Astarion nods his head, a clear dismissal if she’s ever seen one. “Until the morning, darling.”

Until the morning, indeed. 

Until the morning, where they’ll pretend everything is fine and nothing has changed as they play around each other in some sort of tiring, endless game.

And maybe Astarion can. Maybe, for him, nothing ever did change.

Rin doesn’t know quite what it is that they are building towards; but between the little bits of their lives shared with one another, the tiny little secrets that bare ragged pieces of their souls, the long evenings spent by the side of the fire laughing and talking and playing games, between the kisses and caresses and the meeting of their eyes—it feels like something.

Something more than simply being bedmates.

With a single, deep breath she reaches down to grab her corset, collecting it in hand as she turns and walks out the front flap of his tent without another look back, unable to promise she can keep her expression even in the face of his seemingly cold indifference. 

Rin keeps her eyes ahead as she walks by the campfire, Gale politely looking the other way, not commenting on how she must look or what he must have heard—her hair is undoubtedly a mess, corset rumpled in hand, lips still too swollen to be confused with being anything other than readily kissed.

She withholds the sigh that threatens to break free as she makes her way towards her tent, and she’s grateful that at least there is no one else by the fire to witness the utterly pathetic sight of her as she keeps her eyes straight forward. 

“I hope you know what you are doing.” Gale’s voice stops her before she can step into her tent, and she freezes, shifting the corset in hand in hopes of hiding it better, though she knows it’s useless. “I say this with the utmost respect, you understand. As your friend.”

Rin can hear the slightest bit of judgment in the words despite the kindness of them but she shakes it off. She probably deserves his judgment, in the end.

She pastes a weak smile on her face, squeezing the corset tighter in her hand as she turns to look at the wizard where he sits by the fire, a familiar spell book in hand. 

“It’s all good Gale, nothing to worry about. I promise.”

“I trust your judgement, then. Sleep well, my friend.” Gale gives her a polite nod, but the look on his face says that he’s thoroughly unconvinced by her words.

Such aspiring confidence her companions have in her, it seems.

Rin certainly doesn’t blame him for it.

She can barely convince herself of the fact, after all.

With one last sigh she walks through the flap of her tent, letting it flutter shut behind her as she steps inside the familiar surroundings she now calls home.

It smells like it always does, jasmine and honey hanging in the air, and not a one of her possessions is out of place—however few of them she has. 

But as she drops the corset on the ground, she can’t help but feel that something is missing.

Hands come up to cover her eyes as she presses the heel of her palms into them, hoping to rid her mind of such thoughts, however there’s no comfort to be found as shapes swirl on the back of her eyelids.

If she had any sense at all, she would quit while she was still ahead and could leave somewhat unscathed from whatever this thing growing between them is.

But she knows herself better than that.

She knows that, instead of stopping this and sparing herself the almost inevitable promise of pain that their little affair will bring, she will pull herself back together just in time to face the darkness of the morning and pretend that everything is just fine—all the while knowing deep down that she will keep making the same mistake over and over again and relish it every single time.

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙺𝙽𝙾𝙲𝙺𝙾𝚄𝚃

description: In which one of laia and y/n have always aggravated one another and it all comes to a head at the derby

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laia aleixandri x female reader

disclaimer: I am in now way saying laia is bi-sexual or lesbian, this is all fiction

warnings: language, angst, it is a little spicy

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y/n just posted

liked by ellatoone, alessiarusso99, and 239, 765 others

tagged ellatoone, 1maryearps and katiezelem

y/n Ready for the blues ... ❤️

view 12, 762 comments

username1: Come on!!! UNITED ❤️❤️

username2: awww look at Ella! 🥹🥹

username3: Cannot wait for our yearly y/n x laia showdown

^

username4: don't even ! I am so excited lmaoooooo 😂😂

ellatoone: jesus is that what I look like?

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y/n: yh I know, hideous 😩

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ellatoone: little shit 🤨

^

alessiarusso99: HAHAHAHA 😂

1maryearps: was this before or after you had pelted me with water??? 😶

^

y/n: before :) 😌

katiezelem: ❤️

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y/n: love youuuu

lauren_hemp: Excited to see ya! 💙

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y/n: omg same!! ❤️

^

username5: always forget they are besties! 😂

username6: show em how its done!!

username7: Star girl!! 🌟🌟🌟

username8: LOVE YOU SO MUCH!

lj10: 😚

^

y/n: 😚

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lauren_hemp just posted on her story

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y/n just posted on her story

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twitter/ X

username1: this game is so violent jesus ☹️

username2: y/n's on fire tho, so I don't care tbf 🔥🔥

username3: NUTS LAIA SHE HAS JUST NUT MEGGED LAIA 😭

username4: GO ON! ZELEM PEN

username5: jesus Laia is really gunning for y/n today, she better watch out! 😑

see more comments...

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y/n grunted once more as she sprawled out along the floor, Laia huffing in annoyance as the ref gave her a final warning before a card. The foul was given and a free kick set up.

Katie stood behind y/n hands on her shoulders as she whispered encouragement in the girl's ear. It was 1-1 and two minutes before half time.

y/n breathed in, pulling back before sending her foot through the ball and off to the left of Keating, the next bulging as y/n let out a shout of triumph.

Ella got to her first, flinging her thinner frame onto her, screaming in happiness as united crowded around the midfielder. The group all parted, moving back to their positions as Laia walked past y/n watching her.

y/n couldn't help but send a wink Laia's way finding considerable joy in the way the vein in her neck bulged in annoyance. Laia's jaw clenched, clearly troubled with the way she gave away the free kick.

The whistle blew soon enough and the crowd was engulfed in a sea of red as the cheers bounced. The united girls walked toward the tunnel, several pats being bounced off of y/n's shoulder.

Laia moved past y/n, her shoulder pushing past as she walked toward the Man City room and y/n scoffed, noticing they were the only ones in the corridor.

"Grow up Aleixandri." y/n warned the girl, pulling at her ponytail.

"Learn to take a hit, l/n." Laia hissed back, y/n turned on her heel facing Laia as she smirked.

"Learn not to give the free kicks, and I wouldn't score them." y/n winked before walking into the changing room, a string of Spanish curses following her.

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The second half was no let up from the first, City came hard and fast, and Laia was once again harsh to y/n and stuck to her like glue, but y/n had enough by then.

She started jostling back, her tackles rougher than they could have been, her shoulder's definitely bruised from the amount of contact they had received.

Laia had made a great run, her shot was perfect, and it would have gone in, if not for the sliding united midfielder who cleared it off the line and into Ella who booted it away.

Laia let out a yell of annoyance as she watched Mary hug y/n in relief, grateful for her all or nothing attitude as she flung herself to the ground to stop a goal.

The corner was prepared and Laia pressed her back against y/n's front, Laia's shoulder just blocking y/n's view due to their height difference.

y/n huffed in annoyance as she placed her hands on Laia's waist, in between all the shoving in the box her movements were completely unnoticed.

"Is it weird I quite like having you pressed against me like this?" y/n whispered in Laia's ear, just as the corner was taken, stunned completely, Laia paused.

Mary caught the ball and y/n was already gone. Katie received the ball from Mary, and while Laia tried to sprint back to her position, y/n had received the through ball from her captain and hammered it home.

The gleeful laugh let out by y/n was drowned out by the screams and cheers of the crowd. However, Laia could not hear them, all she could hear was her own blood, pumping in her head.

"That was not fair." Laia hissed as y/n jogged past her, but the player ignored her completely, setting herself in her position.

The whistle blew and y/n intercepted a pass from Jill, sending it through to Ella, just as a hand gripped her wrist and she was sent flying back.

"What the fuck?" y/n asked Laia, hands flying up as she raced to her feet.

"Oh, did that hurt?" Laia mocked, eyes sparkling as Ella moved y/n away, muttering calming words as Laia scoffed at her booking.

Not even two minutes later, she made another anger driven tackle. y/n was the only one up the pitch, she had slid through Greenwood and began a run down the right wing when she felt it.

Weirdly enough, Laia had meant to get the ball, she had not intended to hurt y/n in the slightest, but as soon as she caught her ankle she knew.

y/n all but flipped, her body colliding with Laia's, temple into the Spanish girl's elbow and y/n was suddenly on the floor un-moving. Lauren yelped, kicking the ball out of play as she ran to her best friend.

"What are you doing that for?" She yelled at her teammate who couldn't speak, only watch the trickle of blood which had formed from a cut on her brow.

"I- I..." Laia began, but the whistle blew and the familiar red card was shown at her, the girl sighing and walking off ignoring the boo's that followed, her mind only on the girl who she had just crumbled before her.

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twitter/ X

username1: jesus that was a bad tackle 😶😶

username2: lauren is so worried as well, I don't blame her, it was so crazy 😳

username3: I have never seen someone fold like that.

username4: The fact it is five minutes after and she has only just woken up is horrifying. 😥😥

username5: what was Aleixandri thinking???

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username6: She should spend more time off the pitch for it, it is a straight red offence really

^

username7: you can tell she didn't mean to do it, she as white as a sheet when she realised and then instantly cradled y/n's head. It was a mistake

username8: Hope y/n is okay! ❤️

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manutd women just posted on their story

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y/n groaned again, annoyed by the aching in her head as she tried to block out the lights of the locker room. Ella had packed her car for her, but the midfielder had demanded that she shower before she went home.

Ella had offered to drive her back, but she had denied, saying Lauren would because they lived together anyway, and her blonde best friend was not upset about the game, merely worried for her injury.

The stitches which sat above her eyebrow were uncomfortable and tight as they pinched her skin. y/n pulled her final shoe on and walked toward the door.

There were many things y/n kind of expected, Laia Aleixandri to be waiting outside the locker room, was not one. She had her nail in her mouth, biting nervously.

"Are you okay?" Laia asks, as soon as she sees y/n who sends her a confused look.

"Yeah, concussion out for a few weeks due to its severity." y/n nodded, her voice low as she rocked back on her heels.

"I see." Laia nodded, she then sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." She adds.

"Yeah, well you'd been gunning for me all game, didn't realise you would actually get a shot." y/n chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

"You make me so mad, do you know?" Laia asks, and y/n chuckles slightly.

"Yeah, I got that honestly." She hums and Laia sighs.

"So quick, so strong, so good." Laia lists, her eyes almost hard with annoyance. "So pretty." Laia adds quietly, but y/n could hear it.

"You think I'm pretty?" y/n teases Laia, but the woman did something she hadn't expected.

"Yes. Gorgeous in fact." Laia hums, stepping forward, and in her panic, y/n pretty much falls against the wall behind her, as Laia brings her feet to touch y/n's the bodies so close to touching.

y/n couldn't function her entire brain had been pushed into overdrive by the sweet scent of Laia's perfume, which seemed to cling to her like a frightened child.

"Where's that sharp tongue of yours now, mi amor?" Laia asks, the Spanish slipping off her tongue made y/n's eyes roll in pleasure, which Laia watched with a smug smirk.

"Please." y/n whispered, letting her smug attitude sink below as she tried to focus on anything other than Laia's lips hovering above her own.

"Please what amor?" Laia whispers.

"Bésame." y/n whispered, Laia was clearly shocked at the use of her native language, assuming y/n didn't know Spanish. She would be right mainly, y/n only knew a few words, 'kiss me' being one of them.

Laia paused and y/n pressed up, their lips meeting with power, heads tilting, hands gripping at whatever would steady them, for y/n it was Laia's broad shoulders.

For Laia, it was the slight dip in y/n's waist, her hands gripping tightly and pulling her close as she leaned down and further in. y/n's tongue traced along Laia's bottom lip.

The Spaniard opened her mouth and y/n expected to be able to enter it, but she had other ideas, sliding one hand from her waist to slide her fingers across y/n's chin, Laia took control.

y/n couldn't think as Laia infected her, with her touch, her kiss, her scent, all she could think about is doing this for the rest of her life, if y/n was put on this earth to kiss Laia Aleixandri and only Laia, so be it.

The two pulled away, panting and holding tight, delicately Laia brushed her thumb over the stitched on y/n's head and sighed as she pecked her lips.

"We'll come back." a voice says and Lauren turns away, trying to grab Ella who had paused mouth open wide.

"No we won't." Ella denies. "What the f-"

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y/n just posted

liked by 1maryearps, ellatoone and 398, 789 others

tagged laiaaleixandri

y/n let her win

view all 12, 783 comments

username1: wtf 🤯🤯

username2: They're hanging out????

1maryearps: I don't get how you make your photos so aesthetic? 🤨

^

y/n: I will teach you my young padawan! 😚

username3: maybe they became friends after the derby

username4: why do I kinda ship??? 😌😌

^

username5: OMG enemies to lovers, ficlet, 6k words omg I would love it 😭🩷

ellatoone: she throws a right tantrum if you don't

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y/n: yeah figured that one out!

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laiaaleixandri: lies!

alessiarusso99: damn and with how much you like winning that must have hurt...

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y/n: didn't hurt as much as I thought

username6: has anyone seen y/n's eyebrow in the new training vid?? it looks awful!

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username7: I am sure it is healing!

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laiaaleixandri just posted

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tagged y/n

laiaaleixandri if you want to get a girlfriend... knock her out!

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y/n just posted

liked by, alessiarusso99, katiezelem, and 401, 288 others

tagged laiaaleixandri

y/n please don't try what Laia suggested... next time just talk to her!

comments disabled.

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END !

loved writing the ficlets for this one i won’t lie!!!!!

-

Queenie xx

[mncxbe]

I just had a cute Idea, How do you think Yosano, Tecchou, and Jouno (and anyone else you want to hehe) react to a child genuinely complimenting them? That would be so cute ngl-

Omg yes this would be so cute. Enjoy♡♡

Side note: ik Jouno can't see but I included descriptions for literary purposes😌🤝🏻

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You think... I'm pretty?

𝑻𝒆𝒕𝒄𝒉ō, 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐, 𝒀𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒐

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: slice of life/ silly♡

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖

so let's assume a kid bumps into him on the street and then they engage in a staring contest (he defo would you cannot me convince me otherwise)

then the kid compliments his hair or points out how tall he is or something

at first he's there like 😐 but then that sweet smile of his makes its way to his lips and omg he's so happy

probably thanks the kid tbh

compliments them back and he's so sweet fr; just protect him

Tecchou's eyes narrowed as he carefully observed the colony of ants that crawled its way on the edge of the sidewalk; along the stretch of shade provided by the nearby building.

'Interesting...' he thought to himself 'So they purposefully avoid walking in the sun.'

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a sudden nudge on his side.

"Ouch" voiced a little girl as she pressed a hand to her forehead "Why are you sitting in the middle of the road and woah! Is that a tattoo? It looks so pretty"

For a moment Tecchou's face remained expressionless. He simply held the girl's gaze, trying to make sense of her words. And then it hit him: the cherry petal marks on his face. He gently traced his fingertips over the markings, a warm smile rising to his lips.

"Oh thank you" he beamed, looking at the child.

The girl blushed furiously and stuttered for a moment before turning on her heels and running away, leaving Tecchou alone. He frowned, seemingly unaware of why the kid reacted in such a manner.

Just then Jouno walked out of the building and smacked him over the head.

"Why are you crouching, idiot?" he asked in an annoyed voice "Don't you have work to do?"

Tecchou rose to his feet, still gazing in the direction where the young girl left.

"Say, Jouno. Am I scary?"

"What the hell do you mean by that? Of course not"

"Then why did the girl run away?"

Jouno took notice of the hint of sadness and worry in his colleague's voice and raised a brow "What girl?"

"The girl. She said my marks looked pretty" he said, pointing at his face.

Jouno only scoffed "She was just a kid right? Stop wasting time and let's get back to work"

With that Jouno began walking down the street, snaking through the sea of people; Tecchou following close by. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the kid's words out of his mind. Were his markings really that cool? He always saw them as a part of himself, like his hair or nails, not some adornment, but apparently they were something beautiful, something that made people smile. And that was enough to make Tecchou smile too.

𝑱ō𝒏𝒐

we all know he's high on praise already, although I feel like he has a hard time accepting it

appreciates any compliment he gets but when its from children or elderly people it kinda hits different

he tries not to smile, really tries to but inside he's melting

gently pats the child on the crown of his head

The white haired man wiped the blood off his sword with a swift movement; there was a certain grace to this motion that only came from practice.

"Lowly scum" he mumbled under his breath "Really thought he could steal that woman's purse."

Suddenly, a gentle tug on his crimson cape caused him turn around and face a young boy, who didn't seem older than eleven years of age. The kid's gaze was filled with adoration, chocolate brown eyes glimmering with joy and a wide smile stretching his lips.

"Sir if I may..." he began in a hesitant tone "You're so cool. The way you slashed that man was insane!"

The boy spoke with such fervour, mimicking the blade of Jouno's sword with one of his frail arms. "I wanna be just like you when I grow up"

For a brief moment memories from Jouno's dark past resurfaced in his mind. How could this kid say such things? He doesn't know what a cruel person he was and the despicable things he had done and yet... Maybe he had actually changed since he joined the Hunting Dogs, maybe he was a now a better person; worthy of appreciation.

A warm smile tug at the corners of Jouno's lips as he placed a hand on the boy's head and ruffled his chestnut hair.

"Then make sure to stay out of trouble and work hard, kid." he said with a gentleness that surprised even Jouno himself.

The boy nodded eagerly before a woman's voice called out his name.

"Coming mom!" he replied happily, waving the white haired man goodbye. "You'll see how great I'll become sir. Just like you" added the kid as he made his way towards a middle-aged woman carrying a bag of groceries. He took her free hand and soon the two of them got lost in the sea of people swarming around the shopping centre.

Jouno took a deep breath, attempting to push down the rush of emotions that bubbled up inside him. This was all he needed: confirmation that he was doing something good, that his hard work actually paid off and his actions didn't go unnoticed.

Turning on his heels, the man walked towards the revolving doors and out of the mall, heart swelling with pride.

𝒀𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒐

she's so happy honestly

knows that little kids are super honest so they mean what they say

depending on the mood she's in she may ruffle the kid's hair a little, affectionately of course

she would remember that moment for such a long time and always go back to it when she's feeling down

"Wow mommy look. She's so pretty!"

Yosano stopped dead in her tracks upon hearing these words. On her right, a little girl pointed one of her little fingers in her direction; her other hand was clutching the summer coat of an older woman.

"You're so pretty miss" said the girl again in the same cheerful voice.

"Oh, Hira. Don't say such things so strangers!" scolded her mother as she bowed deeply. "I'm sorry miss. My daughter is at that age, I'm sure you understand."

A gleeful smile rose to Yosano's lips as she shook her hand dismissively.

"Oh it's quite alright ma'am, I don't mind it at all. She's adorable."

The little girl beamed, her face turning a faint shade of red. Just then a train pulled on their platform and the woman grabbed her daughter's wrist gently and pulled her towards the opening doors; before they left, Yosano overheard the kid asking her mother if she could get her hair cut like her.

The doctor watched the sliding doors of the speed train close, blocking her vision of the girl. Her heart fluttered from happiness. As someone who never actually had a woman to look up to as a kid, she was thrilled to play that role in someone else's life. Combing a hand through her charcoal hair, her fingers lingered upon the golden butterfly clip; a comforting reminder of her past.

Soon after the arrival of her train was announced by a static voice that echoed through the entire underground station. Sweet memories of this day are still living in the back of her mind.

[crimsonhydrangeavn]

I wanted to ask this since yesterday but i kind of forgot to do it. Thank for your hard work! And congrats for updating the game!!! I hope you don't overwork yourself too much and take as many breaks you need.

Spoilers, maybe? Since my question is related to Day 2 and mostly, directed towards you dearest creator. 😋 I loved that wholesome moment where Garret invites you to his house and prepares a mug of... HOT CIDER for you? I didn't know that a drink such as HOT cider existed... All my life I only ever consumed sparkling cider (and it's the only drink that has alcohol in it that i tolerate), it piqued my interest! I don't know anyone who has ever tried it and i wanted to ask you that, would you recommend it? To drink, I mean. 😌 OH, and it has CINNAMON??? I never, never, NEVER tried something like that in my life and thanks to Garret I want to try it. I'm asking you since most of the writing and dialogue is based on your own knowledge and experiences, is that right? I'm not from North America, im from a whole different continent so I'm not sure if it is a well-known drink!

Also this is unrelated but THANK YOU for letting me curse at Teagan... This new update is my favorite of the moment! I was in love with Rita first... Now, Garret too. POOR RITA THOUGH, she really needs some love, i kind of understand why she seems so surprised when someone REALLY and genuinely cares about her. 💜

Thank you so much for your kind words! I’m so so glad you enjoyed the Day 2 update! It was a lot of work and it’s so reassuring to know that you enjoyed it as much as you did!

That’s a really interesting and great question! Since Crimson Hydrangea is based off of my experiences in the north eastern coast of America it’s really cool to hear learn that someone from a completely different continent is interested in learning more about the area!

I’m more than happy to explain the joys of hot apple cider to you! Granted I’m no expert, but I have sipped on a few different kinds and have enjoyed all of them.

So there are a few different versions of apple cider in the north east. The cold, carbonated, and alcoholic ones that you’re familiar with is usually called Hard ciders over here.

Then there’s local apple cider that you can really only get during the fall season. They’re usually made by pressing fresh apples and making juice from them. The consistency is usually a little thicker than normal apple juice and the color is also a lot darker than normal apple juice.

They also add spices to really compliment the flavor and make it taste even better. You can drink it hot or cold depending on preference. Though hot apple cider is a perfect drink to warm you up after being out in the cold all day long.

You can also add rum into it if you wanted to add a bit of alcohol as well

Personally I would highly recommend it! It’s one of my favorite drinks to have during the fall both cold and hot. I also really like hard ciders too during the summer! So if you like the taste of apples and don’t mind slightly thicker/pulpy drinks I think you’d enjoy it!

Haha! I’m more than happy to have you yell at Teagan any time you want! After all they deserve it after everything they put you through. ;)

I am glad that you’re starting to warm up to Garret, it’ll be fun to see everyone’s reactions when day 3 comes out!

And don’t worry, Rita will eventually come around to accepting she isn’t completely alone soon. ;)

[3terna15unshin3]

Rockstar

Matty won't shut up about Este's success

1103 words

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a/n: Once again this was not requested but I looooovveeee the idea of Matty being Este’s biggest supporter through big moments in her career so here i wrote about it🥰🥰 it’s a bit short but lmk what u think!

(I wrote an entire 15 chapter fic of this universe! Read it here if you want more Matty and Este😌)

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“A 35,000 person capacity festival is just unfathomable to me. I can’t even picture that many people—let alone going up and performing for them. Being present in the crowd at your headline set back in 2019, where I specifically remember being impressed by you and your rockstar-esque poise and confidence, I can’t help but wonder if these crazy performances are an easier pill to swallow now? With that experience?”

Matty humbly shot down the ‘rockstar’ comment.

“That’s very kind, but I mean the festival crowds are something I really will never get used to. The pure size of them is one thing, but there’s also this energy of needing to win them over. Keep their attention. It’s a lot of pressure, so I don’t think I can say that I find it easy.”

The interviewer nodded their head in understanding, comfortably sat on a chair across from Matty and asking him a few questions before him and the band took the stage at Big Weekend 2023 in Dundee.

“Yeah, totally. And I’m sure it’s interesting going straight into a summer full of these big festivals straight after the break you’ve just been on, right?” They asked.

He draped one leg over the other before answering. “A bit. It’s always nice to warm back up with a headline show since that’s where we feel the most comfortable. Also—as silly as it sounds—three weeks was a long fucking time. For me, at least. When we’re in an album cycle and touring the shit out of it, it’s so rare for us to stop for that long.”

“What do you get up to when you’re off nowadays? I can sense a workaholic vibe from you, so is that time spent in the studio? Jumping to the next thing now that Being Funny has been out and heard and loved?” The interviewer said in a thick Scottish accent, shuffling their cards as they spoke.

“You sensed the vibe correctly,” Matty confirmed, “though it’s not entirely ‘work’ to me, I guess. It’s just the way I make sense of the world, sort of dunno what else I’d do. So yes, I did write and I am working on the next album. But I didn’t get around to it right away, since I spent some time celebrating first,”

“That’s a very artistic answer, Matty. That writing isn’t work and is ‘the way you make sense of the world’,” They joked, earning a sheepish chuckle from Matty. “May I ask if you were celebrating anything in particular? The success of your UK tour?”

“It wasn’t that self indulgent,” he explained, “I was hoping you’d ask because I love talking about it. My girlfriend is a writer for The Guardian, and she just had a huge piece of hers published. She’s the real rockstar out of the both of us, to be honest.” Matty’s face immediately lit up at the chance to gush about Este, figuring she wouldn’t mind.

He thought back to moment she gave him a call to break the news with a fond smile.

“Hi, love.” he said after he picked up.

Este was bursting at the seams with joy to say what she said next. She couldn’t even bear to greet him a ‘hello’ back.

“It’s going to be on the front.”

He dropped the chopsticks once gripped in his hands. “You’re fucking joking.”

Her smile was so wide it hurt her cheeks as she paced around the small office she shared with a few other writers she worked with. She giggled, nodding even though Matty couldn’t see her.

“17th of May. They chose mine as the Culture spotlight,” Este explained, “So there’s a snippet headline on the cover, and then you’ll flip to Books & Entertainment and my name will be the biggest one. Not just in my usual column.”

“You’re fucking joking me!” He repeated himself, audibly joyful with a volume so high she had to pull her phone away from her ear.

“Matty, you’re screaming. I hope you’re not in public,”

He was, and didn’t care. “I’m at a very nice and small Japanese restaurant that is so quiet that every single person here is looking at me like I’m crazy, for your information. Este’s on the fucking cover!” Matty exclaimed equally as loud.

She heard busy and happy commotion in the back, making out a few congratulatory remarks from the guys and the touring crew. Blush crept onto her cheeks, trying to squeeze a ‘thank you’ through to them between Matty and his continued rambles.

“I’m just so fucking proud, baby. Every time I get to read the newest thing you write it somehow tops the last—I don’t know how you do it. Actually, it’s quite annoying. Seems too effortless. It’s about time they print your name all big!” he endlessly complimented.

“I love you so much.” Este shortly said.

He could hear the grin in her voice. “Can’t be that much if I love you more,” Matty argued, “Sorry that was a bit cringe. Hann is rolling his eyes. You’re in love too, bro! Don’t act like I’m weird for it!”

“Her name’s Este Manansala, by the way. M-A-N-A-N-S-A-L-A,” Matty spelt out her surname to make sure they got it correctly, “She writes on books and literature, so it was an article about Yellowface by R.F. Kuang, a new novel out. A really, really thought-provoking conversation about white vs. minority authors—the nuances of being an author of colour. From a great perspective, too, since she’s Filipino and a woman and an immigrant. You should go read it,”

He stared down the camera lens to the hypothetical viewers, as if he could say it straight to them.

“But hell, check out all of her past stuff as well. Genuinely the most humble and intelligent human I’ve ever known. Plus I’ve written pretty much every love song of mine since like 2019 about her, so if you like my music then you have her to thank as well. Anyway—I’ve just overtaken this interview to talk about my girlfriend—sorry, mate.” apologised Matty, though he wasn’t all that apologetic.

“Don’t be sorry! I love it. She sounds incredible,” The interviewer beamed, matching his energy and feeling the admiration Matty had for her through the air.

“She is.” He smiled wide.

“If she really is the rockstar like you described, I feel like I can say that you’re her groupie.”

They belly-laughed together. Matty pictured Este’s smug expression and the way she’d definitely use that line to tease him in the future.

“Oh—I’m telling her you just said that. She’ll love it. Because you 100% can.”

[suniverseastro]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATION #11

Hi guys, I come back!! Wishing everyone a very happy Sagittarius season

I have aspect: Venus Capricorn square Mars Libra and I feel that I am easily attracted to people with the sun Libra, with Capricorn people in the sun and moon I meet have a very different feeling, have aspect. a respect, curiosity, interest, trust in being with them, a greater sense of security than those with the Libra sun.

+ It's like being a person who goes on a long with you, and one person can only be a friend. Perhaps that also explains part of the nature of Venus and Mars in love, one side is real love, the other is more related to sex?( No hate with who have sun Libra and I don't get relationship with them just by my sexual attractive by them)

The position of Libra undeveloped … omg: they have a shallow, somewhat superficial view, judge their appearance and bully others with body shaming (especially rising Libra), manipulate others with their their charm, extremely promiscuous and flirtatious despite being in a relationship

Men with strong Scorpio/8th can be very interested in bodybuilding, strength training, strength to protect their future lover, appreciate masculine beauty 💪

Moon in Capricorn radiates energy that calms everyone and animals around 🐶🐦

Pisces in big 3 are people who tell stories that they have read, experienced very vividly, their eyes and brains narrate and create a small movie, feeling like watching a movie.

Mercury 12th house has a voice that makes others feel like sleeping 😴😌

Venus in Aquarius/aspect Uranus: not in a hurry to find a lover, enjoying life, passion, doing things that make them feel comfortable is also enjoying their joy. It's really hard to force them in what kind of relationship, unless they want to

Pluto aspect North Node: the events that happen to them that can make the eyewitness mark about it, for example, what kind of people their surroundings are like and the external and internal reactions. in theirs. It can be patience, endurance, inhibition

Neptune in Sagittarius: love the beauty of nature, they love freedom and like to travel to places with natural nature

Both Sun, Moon aspect Mercury: make them easily restless, need stimulation with different information and events, very curious, easily bored when there is nothing new

Positions that make it difficult for a person to commit to a long-term relationship when (not necessarily an affair):

°Venus square/opposite aspect Mars: tension between love and sex

°Moon square/opposite aspect Mars: tension between one's own emotions and sexual desire

°Moon square/opposite aspect Venus: stress with emotions, necessity with expressions of love

°Moon square/ opposite Saturn: find it difficult to feel secure, comfortable in growing, maintaining long-term relationships

°Venus aspect Jupiter: with trine/ sextle/ conj: they know that they have a lot of choices, square.opppsite: often search, want to connect with many external relationships

°Libra undeveloped

Pluto heavy energy in chart: transform yourself often, quickly, maybe through what they've been through, through other people's words (maybe very sad stories, causing them pain) but through grief pain, they are far beyond becoming a different person, will not go through that pain again, learn from experience and train themselves to be stronger and wiser

Who have Sun/Moon square/opposite Pluto aspect: Their father/mother is not answer question or not give much infomation to them about their actions, intentions, past. For example: their parents don't tell them too much about the past, the things they do, this makes their children always feel that their parents are mysterious and difficult to understand.

[edensbuttercups]

Dagger Squad x reader

A/N: I've got a cold, which is fine and dandy, especially when these little scenarios came into my mind at roughly 2 am to keep me company 😌 So here is this cheesy nonsense, jotted down in the middle of the night and with probably a big lack of logic 😌 also, this gif is pure joy Words: 1.9k (total, each snipped it 200-300 words)

Bob:

He told you he was coming over as soon as you called him, wasting no time and heading to the grocery store to buy what was missing, before driving straight to your home. He timidly knocked, knowing the door was open but still wanting to be respectful, alerting of his presence, walking in with a hushed hello, not sure if you were napping or awake. “Hi, Bob.” You called from the other room, voice raspy, but ever so sweet as you called his name. “How are you feeling?” He asked once everything had been put in his place, coming into the room to find you lying in the bed, reddened cheeks from the fever and tired eyes, yet a warm smile at his presence. “Okay, I think.” You hum, leaning into his touch when his hand settled on your forehead. “Hmm… okay, you think,” he repeated, jokingly, “but you’ve got a fever.” It wasn’t too high, nothing to be worried about, but he still would’ve preferred for you not to have it, for you to feel well. “You’re so fresh” you say, his touch still soothing on your skin, your hand reaching up to hold onto it, keeping it settled against your forehead. “That’s cause you’re hot” he muttered in reply, the playful look you gave him making his cheeks match your own in terms of redness. “Thank you.” You teased, shifting in the bed to make space for him by your side, patting the mattress softly. “Soup?” He asked, waiting for you to shake your head before sitting down next to you, wrapping an arm around you. “Later.” you hummed, letting your head fall against his shoulder, eyes glancing up at him and sighing, always mesmerised by the color of his eyes and the softness of his smile. “Later.” He repeated, squeezing you softly and kissing your forehead, closing his eyes when yours did as well. 

Phoenix:

You stood from the couch when you hear the soft knock on the door, moving your feet slowly until you stop in front of it, peering it open to see Natasha on the other side, her expression softening when she sees your face. You looked tired, with red cheeks from the slight fever that had started little over an hour ago, and your light frown did nothing to stop a smile from forming on her face. “You’ll get sick.” You hummed as she walked past you, a small covered tray in her hands, setting it on your coffee table as she sat on the couch. She just shrugged, not really minding either way. “I have a strong immune system.” She joked, patting the space by her side, urging you to sit near her. You closed the door, making your way by her side and pulling up the cover of the tray, seeing a variety of cut fruit waiting under it, smiling at the gesture. “My mum always said that fruit helps when you’re sick, so…” She explained, plucking one of the forks she brought and stabbing a piece of fruit, offering it to you. Natasha had always been kind, and warm, and loving, talking while she shared the fruit she had brought, talking about her day and asking about yours, even if not much had been done between the annoying peaks of fever and the tiredness that had overtaken you for most of the day. When no more fruit was left to be shared, she gently kissed your forehead, frowning once again when she felt your temperature, softly guiding your head towards her lap, letting you lay down as her fingers combed through your hair, her voice gentle as she spoke, sighing happily when your body relaxed into hers.

Coyote:

“What’s this I’m hearing about a petty cold?” He asked, letting his bag fall to the ground as he shrugged his jacket off, hanging it by the door. You smiled at him, standing from the couch and bringing the blanket with you, wrapping it around both of you as you reached him by the door. “Just that. A petty cold.” You hummed, head resting on his chest. You had missed him all day, even if you were used to him being away or busy, both of you having full lives, yet always cutting out some time for each other during the day. Which is why today, home from work, well enough to get through the few chores in the first hours of the day before feeling absolutely exhausted for the next, you missed him so much. He nodded, eyes glancing at the living room, some pillows scattered here and there from all the jostling around you had done trying to get comfortable, and the food on the countertop of the kitchen, sitting ready in some tupperware. “Marla.” You explained when you saw where he was looking, “she saw me take the trash out this morning and figured out pretty quickly that I wasn’t well. So she made us dinner.” You and Javy had always liked Marla, an old lady with a lovable husband, both of them always more than willing to offer help. “We’ll thank them tomorrow. For now, shall I plate the food?” He asked you, sending you a wink as he wrapped the blanket around you instead, walking you to the table. “Yep. Then cuddles?” “Then cuddles.”

Hangman:

You and Hangman hadn’t been dating for long, both of you keeping it low key in terms of how serious you were, mainly because of his job, even if the feelings you shared were very much real, at least on your side. Still, you hadn’t expected him to rush over the moment you told him you weren’t feeling well, the knock on your door coming just 10 minutes after your phone call ended, making you smile when you walked over to open it. “Brought tea, and coffee, and cookies. And, better than the rest, me.” Hangman said effortlessly, handing you a bag with everything he had mentioned, then stepped in, pressing a kiss on your forehead before closing the door behind him. “Cocky.” You hummed, kissing his cheek as you made your way back to the sofa with a loud plop, the movement making your break into a small coughing fit, one hand flying to your chest as you tried to stop. “Didn’t bring any cough syrup.” He added with a frown, shoulders slumping in defeat. “There’s some in the cupboard.” you told him the second you felt air in your lungs again, smiling at him as he handed it to you, the taste bitter but quickly helping with the feeling in your chest. “Better?” he asked, setting the bag with all the goodies on the coffee table and sitting by your side, careful not to cause another coughing fit. “Better, yeah.”

Rooster:

“You’ll get sick too.” You said with a pout, unable to contain the smile, however, when he gently kissed your cheek. “I don’t mind.” He hummed, settling by your side as he flicked the tv on, snuggling happily against you. “So, what are we feeling? Comedy? Romance?” Bradley asked, moving his eyebrows up and down, smiling when he got to make you laugh so easily. “Maybe romance, yeah. Or, even better, a rom-com?” you suggested, snuggling into his side, not really minding what he chose as long as you got to stay by his side. You nodded at his suggestions, occasionally looking away when you felt like you needed to sneeze, groaning when you just couldn’t. You were getting a headache and your back hurt, and as much as you enjoyed the cuddling, you were also a little frustrated. “I got medicine here, if you want.” You heard Bradley offer, leaning to grab a bottle of cough syrup, reading the label before setting it back down, then some painkillers, tissues, chocolates and a heating pad. “Chocolate counts as medicine?” You asked, stifling a laugh. “Sure does. Scientifically proven.” He spoke matter of factly, moving towards you, “and, another scientifically proven medicine? My kisses.” He added, peppering a few quick kisses on your cheek, moving back when you pushed him away. “You’ll really get sick, c’mon. Now hand me the chocolate.” “Yes, ma’am.” He obliged with a giggle, handing it to you.  

Fanboy:

You were sitting on the couch, smiling at your boyfriend as he chopped the ingredients, singing along to the song on the radio as he let the vegetables fall into the broth, grabbing a spoon and getting a taste of it. “Hmm… maybe more onion…” he hummed, heading over to the fridge to grab it, turning around when you chuckled. “No more onion?” he asked, pouting softly. He was making you his mother’s soup, one she always prepared for him when he was sick, so of course he’d do the same for you. “You cried when you cut it before!” You argued gently, watching as his lips quirked up into a smile again. “But it’s worth it! Makes it taste extra nice, I promise.” You couldn’t help but watch as the scene unfolded before you, his expert slicing morphing into a just as expert slicing, albeit with more tears. 

In the end, it had been worth it. You sipped happily on the soup he had prepared, sitting by his side while a movie played, not as preoccupied with your headache anymore, nor with how achey your body felt, only thinking now about the perfect combination of tastes in your mouth and the warm presence of your boyfriend by your side.  

Payback:

“Sorry, can’t make it today, feeling sick :(“ you had texted Payback at 10am that morning, feeling the need to cancel your plans after your head decided on slowly imploding and a light cough started in your chest. You and him had planned this for over a week, your schedules finally allowing for or the opposite morning, which of course meant it was the perfect moment for you to catch a light cold. Cursing to yourself, you lowered your head back into the pillow with a quiet groan, hoping the painkillers would soon start taking effect and stop your suffering. Meanwhile, Payback was worried. He didn’t want to disturb you, the two of you not having dated long enough for him to feel the right to come by your place unannounced, but after that message you hadn’t texted him again, nor picked up your phone, so he was worried. And so, it was a soft knock on your door that alerted you of someone’s presence, waking you up from a nap that had taken you for most of the day, making that nagging headache leave you while you still had to deal with a stuffy nose and a sense of tiredness you just couldn’t shake off. Opening the door, you found Payback standing there, some simple flowers in his hand and some chocolates for you, a timid smile on his face that quickly melted into one of relief when he saw you were okay, or as okay as you could be with a cold. You smiled at him, moving to the side so that he could walk past you, placing a small kiss to your forehead, walking by your side as you found a vase for the flowers and a movie to watch while you shared chocolate and cuddles.

[slavicbeastie]

Arcane season 2 trailer

Oh wow I'm so excited by this trailer. Spiking adrenaline...I'm scurrying up walls like spider on meth 🤪

Some thoughts:

- it seems to me that Mel is alive (Yay!). Maybe hurt. Ambessa doesn't sound angry enough for death. Also fuck you Ambessa with your "wrath must be met with wrath". What about Piltover's wrath to Undercity over decades and centuries, huh? But you're a war mongering tryant (and textbook narcissist), you wouldn't recognise concepts of justice and fairness it they slapped you in the face. She's on the bottom of my Arcane's characters' likeability list for sure. I don't care that she has got impressive physique. I hate that they gave her place in the game (yes she's even below Marcus and Finn. At least they have decency to be dead).

- Cait being all decisive and competent 😎 But if she's leading attack on Undercity, what are those Noxian soldiers about? Does she work together with Ambessa? *shudder* I like Cait but I kinda want her to fail in all three objectives. Sorry pretty officer, but I'm on side of Zaun's revolution and independence from Piltover's boot. And you sending in enforcers doesn't seem in support of that.

- Vi looks terrible in enforcer uniform. Terrible. And she continues her trend from the very beginning of the series of contradicting her own words to Jinx. How long that "Nothing ever going to change that." held up, huh? A few days? A month? Normally I would give benefit of the doubt due to deceptive trailer's editing, but as I said, it's hardly the first time. When it comes to Jinx, one must take her every statement with a pound of salt. Especially positive ones... I hope I am wrong, tho. Let me be wrong, trailer is lying, and after a breather and time to think, Vi is better than in S1 act three in relating to Jinx.

- Ooh chembarons fighting directly? Yay? Singed under enforcers' gunpoint! I know he's terrible mad scientist but someone save him. Jinx? Sevika? Victor??

- I'm surprised how happy I am to see Sevika again! I always strongly disliked her attitude to Jinx (she was kinda Silco's crew Mylo) so I didn't mind when Jinx hurt her, but I really love to see her back to full strength and fighting for Zaun. Also I am excited for Warwick?!

- Ekko is there. that's it

- and last but definitely not least - JINX! Most important in fact! Every bit of/about Jinx is absolutely BRILLIANT. *rolles around in utter joy* I'm so happy to see her again! 🥰 They already managed to exceed my expectations for her in season 2 in this very trailer. Can you imagine what it'll be to see all they did through nine eps 🤯

From the top - Is that great statue head of Jinx behind chembarons!!!! Is she now their symbol/role model or maybe even some kind of leader!? is that her in hooded cape? Like in that s2 poster? I would love her in cape! She deserves cool cape!

That mural?! THE JINX MURAL!!!! 😍 It's Arcane's rendition of Liberty Leading the People, painting about French revolution! *explodes into fireworks of happiness* Our girl is so legendary that not one but two great works of art are referenced through her🥰 She is revolutionary for Zaun! Or the very least literally symbol of revolution. People behind her have all blue coloured hair. Possibility of Inxs or just sign of people's alignment/allegiance to her?

Despite all the turmoil, planning and fighting my favourite girl still has time for her art installations. Of course she has! Standing there on the pillar with Silco's face saying sarcastic line. (edit: oops it's monkey actually)That's pure theatre. She should really try hand in writing a dramatic play. I think pitch black comedy would be best bet. I wonder if she'll found out that Vi already said her name right before, when she grassed on her to Council. She looks so fierce fighting. Go Jinx go!!!

That's all for now. If we don't get anything else until November I'll be fine. This is more than enough until then😌🤗💙💙

[shirefantasies]

Idk if/what you’re open to writing right now, but can you possibly write something focused on pippin? Maybe fluff or headcannons or oneshots, whatever you want. I’ll put my trust in a fellow pippin girlie 😉❤️

Ahhh I definitely was not when this very first rolled in but barring any more grievous wounds I am always down to write about my beloved 😌

Pie in the Sky- Pippin x F!Hobbit!Reader

(Gif by @lotrcolors! Didn’t see rules about not using them but will take down if they prefer!)

Perfect dough never fails to put a smile on your face. Sticky as it is, even the feeling of it beneath your hands as you knead it is pleasing. Flames to your left tell you the oven is more than ready to receive its eventual bounty. A few rolls beneath your pin and there you have it, a beautiful drape on the tin before the real treasure is stowed away. Twirling in your flighty joy, you turn for the stove, taking up your pot of wonderful sparkling scarlet raspberry filling. Pouring it in, you see you’ve made a bit extra- muffins might just be in your future, too! Last step is cutting the lattice and then your oven is finally presented its trophy.

You already pulled out the right size hourglass when you got your start, so all there is to it is giving it a flip and you’ve got a little time for inventory.

The fishers had a wonderful haul: bright, shiny salmon you had filleted earlier in the afternoon, leaving only the need to coat them in lemon juice and seasoning. Potatoes as well, potatoes fresh as the salmon, though they are to be fried into chips, not grilled. A plate of roasted zucchini and carrot to say you’re getting your vegetables in. Not to mention the pie.

Every voice in your head had told you to just make enough for yourself, but having a visitor is likely enough, is it not? May as well make a bit extra, you think as you reach for a tin of dill weed.

~

Foolhardy, they say. Foolish indeed to leave a pie cooling upon the sill of your hole’s window lest some rapscallion make short work of it. But what is life without a little chance, you ponder as you check up on your treat, glancing out to the passing road…

“Well, that is about as fine a pie as I’ve ever seen! What’s the occasion?”

Peregrin Took. Pippin, just about the whole Shire calls him. Sprightly, smiling, and green-eyed, the young hobbit comes from quite the family. He is the only one you know of so well, though. Oft is he seen alongside his cousin Merry, particularly for goers of the Green Dragon. You are not quite in that guild, though it has been tempting enough of late.

“No occasion, really,” you reply with a smile, glancing up at Pippin through your lashes, “to be honest, I just felt like it.”

“I can see why," he muses, tone dreamy.

"I made extra. Care to join me for supper?" Leaning further upon your sill, you rest your chin upon your hand.

"If you insist," he answers quickly, "then who am I to say no?"

He slips around the remaining perimeter of your yard, disappearing from your view until you hear a knock at your door. At once you abandon your pie, crossing through your kitchen and hall to open it.

"Well, hello there," Pippin jokes with a wide smile, arms outstretched and heels rocking, "fancy meeting you here!"

"Master Took," you play along, waving him in, "what a pleasant surprise! Please, come in."

Hands running over his shoulders faintly, you help him out of his coat, taking notice of how eager he is to strip himself of the extra layers, unwinding the scarf in record speed and glancing around the entry of your home.

"The kitchen is this way," you wave a hand, "Shall we?"

You take the way he practically trips over his feet on the freshly polished floorboards going forward as a yes, holding out a quick hand to steady him, thinking better of it, withdrawing shyly. Leading him to the dining table, you sit him down at the head of it and make for the kitchen to procure all your supper fixings. One by one you set down steaming platters, Pippin's eyes tracking your every movement before landing on the offerings themselves. You hear his stomach rumble as the smell of the first platter of chips fills the room, say nothing but smile and simply compound the feast until his eyes are wide as saucers.

Master Peregrin Took had caught your eye some time ago, from what day you cannot even say, but at that moment and beyond his wide, wonderful smile and lovely singing voice permeate the back of your mind far too often. Often enough, in fact, that you've taken up the peculiar little habit that finally serves you so well, making far more of anything than you need lest you ever are gifted the luck of the Shire's jolliest soul at your door. And as he sits before you, so close your arms brush as they reach for cups and utensils, engrossed in sharing a story his cousin's gardener told him about the Proudfeet's pumpkins, all you can feel is a glow of warmth and satisfaction.

~

"Mmm," Pippin hums in pleasure between forkfuls, "how did I never know what a good cook you are?"

You shrug, suddenly feeling a little shy. "I suppose I never labelled my creations all too well at any festivals."

"Well, if you keep this up," he teases, "I may just have to keep coming to call."

"Be my guest," you wave a hand and smile widely, eyes remaining upon his, "it isn't often I get company."

You barely trust your ears at his next words. "I can hardly believe that! But I'm more than happy to take up the task."

Wit utterly fails you at that, words lost in the fluttering of butterflies filling your entire being and a smile you cannot have hidden for all the gold in the Shire.

~

Pippin greets you by name this time, leaning into your window with eager familiarity. “You wouldn’t happen to be baking, would you?”

“Why, yes,” you smile back even wider, bending down for a moment to collect proof in the form of a steaming yellow cake before you tease, "if you don't mind waiting for it to cool and get frosted I'd be happy to share. Unless you were just hoping I was busy."

Pippin practically runs around to your gate, bringing yet another smile to your lips as you turn from your cake to the strawberries you'd been slicing.

~

“Excellent party, no?”

Glancing up from your tankard, you see Pippin has slid up to your side, leaning an arm casually upon the edge of the table and giving you that easy smile that makes everything within you flutter. His sandy hair is sprinkled with tossed flower petals and falls about his face, which flickers beneath the lanterns set all about. He’d undone his ever-present scarf, this time letting it hang loosely about either side of his neck and down onto a green velvet waistcoat that brings out those eyes of his.

Nothing else but a smile could have broken across your face at such a sight, joy alongside warmth you can luckily blame upon lanterns and the fires on which spits had been roasting and sheer proximity to all the dancing couples whirling by and other hobbits stopping at the table and idly chatting.

“Just grand,” you reply, only aware in post the surefire dreaminess of your expression, “the music's wonderful, everyone is in such cheer, and the spread is great, too! And now I've got fine company as well!"

"As have I," Pippin replies, glancing away from your gaze, then back to it, "and you are so right about it all. I can't wait to dance the night away! And I've just had about the best cookies of my life!"

You giggle at that, fingers tightening around the wooden mug you held. "Oh yes? And what kind were they?"

"Lavender sugar."

"Ah," your eyes light up, "those would be mine! See what I mean about the labeling? Oh, I'm so glad you liked them!"

Seeing as how it's the sole reason you made anything at all for the birthday of someone's aunt you didn't even know too well.

"Liked them?" He leans closer. "I loved them! But enough of that: how would you care for a dance or five?"

Nothing would have gotten your hands off your tankard with greater haste, its base hitting the red tablecloth at your back faster than he could say "South Farthing".

"I would love that," you tell him, and without a moment's hesitation you are swept up into his arms.

Pippin's hold about your waist is tighter than you'd have expected, but you don't complain a mite at the feeling of his hands on your hips, even the twitch of a finger you'd almost suspect to be the beginnings of roaming if you were any more full of yourself. He goes fast with you, something you hadn't doubted for a moment, and you get a thrill from the way he pulls you in so quickly from a twirl, sending you flying into his chest and caught with his other arm each time. Perhaps you aren't so graceful as some of the other, older or more leisurely pairs out on the open grass, but you know as your bare feet struck the soft ground again and again that you would have it no other way.

~

“Oh, now it’s shortbread?”

You put the hand that isn't holding the basket on your hip, fixing the younger hobbit with a look. “Do you want some or not, Marigold dear?”

"Oh, yes," she replies, golden head bobbing and petite hand reaching to loosen the cloth you've wrapped over the bars, "and I will take one for the old Gaffer, too.”

“Oh, he should enjoy them. It’s my grandmother’s recipe, after all.”

“And who else shall?” Marigold muses, fixing you with a positively catlike smile. “How is my advice about a man’s heart going, then, with Mister Peregrin Took?”

Your easy smile melts into something dreamier, grip on your basket relaxing slightly. “Well, all my baking certainly is bringing us together more.”

“And showing him what a good wife you’ll make him, too. He looked very happy there dancing with you at old Violet’s birthday!”

Before you can stop yourself looking a fool, your smile is widening tenfold. “You think so?”

“Oh,” Marigold waves a hand, “you’re incorrigible! Next time you two dance, just lean in for the kiss!”

“Easy for you to say,” you shoot back, crossing your arms and nearly, but not quite, upsetting your shortbread basket, “I could tell you the same about Tolman Cotton.”

Paling then reddening, Marigold gapes at you and sputters. "Now that is quite different! Tolman is a family friend, after all! If I were to- Why, that friendship might-”

“Uh-huh,” you nod in mock sympathy, a sardonic smile upon your lips, “well, then, perhaps you ought to bake him something. After all, a good friend told me the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Marigold grins. “Yours, maybe! Tolman cares much more about a good spot of fishing than all that.”

“Then you come over to sit in my kitchen and make him a new lure while I muse over what Pippin’s favorites might be. I’ve some dyed feathers I could spare.”

“From what?” Marigold asks, tilted head and smile incredulous as you make your way down the lane.

That is all Pippin catches of the conversation, but it is more than enough, he reflects with a brief proud smirk that quickly melts into a wide, dreamy grin as he glances down at the pair of chocolate-covered shortbread bars in his hands. Your grandma had some good ideas, but she’d never get his heart beating like you did.

~

It is not the most common occurrence in the world to hear your bell ring, so to say you shot up from your sewing is an understatement. All but tossing the shirt whose sleeve you’re repairing down, you pad across your planks to the door, mouth widening into an ‘o’ at the sight of Pippin at your door, a bunch of daisies in one hand and a basket slung upon the opposite arm. Today he is wearing a lavender vest; you don't think you've ever seen him wear lavender before, but of course it suits him.

“Hi there,” he said your name, voice lowering, “I thought I could maybe…take you on a picnic.”

“Oh!” You exclaim, habitually glancing down at your dress and feeling a hand shoot up to your hair. “Well, I don’t know if I’m picnic ready, but-”

“You’re as beautiful as ever,” he remarks with a shrug and the most casual smile, as if he’d commented upon the balmy state of the weather.

“Well,” you glance down toward your feet and fiddle with the end of your sleeve, one arm shyly across your chest, “how can I say no to that? Of course I will go, then. Do you need anything for your basket, though? I admit I haven’t made much fresh today, but I can always-”

At that, Pippin shakes his head, curls flying about his smiling face. “This one is my mother’s treat. It’s about time I pay you back, after all.”

“Oh, alright. Because I do have a leftover pie in the-”

“Yes, bring that.”

You giggle as Pippin continues. “Don’t you worry, though- my mother’s cooking is almost as good as yours! Just don’t tell her I said that.” Punctuating his joke with a wink, he extends his arm and beaming, you take it.

~

Pippin leads you down to the bank of a stream and spreads out a blanket you hadn’t noticed him carrying before, probably due to being too occupied looking into those sweet green eyes and fluttering your lashes at any affection that potentially swims within them. The ground is soft already beneath the blanket, making it quite easy to settle upon your little spot across from Pippin and his basket. Water babbles tranquilly at your side by your feet, glistening in the spring sunshine.

Your companion offers quite the spread, for on top of your pie there is cold chicken and hard boiled eggs, sandwiches with salted meat and cress, cheese alongside the end of the sandwich loaf, fresh red raspberries, and turnovers.

“I hope this is enough.”

“Are you joking?” Your eyes light up, glancing from Pippin to the array of food to the sunlight filtering through the greenery at the stream’s edge. “This is perfect. All of it.”

"It had to be," he says, "I wanted our courtship to start off right."

Falling suddenly deaf to the chirping of birds and babbling of stream, you looked up from your sandwich with wide eyes, again seeing Pippin smiling at you like he'd made the most natural conclusion in the world, this time before tilting a fistful of raspberries into his mouth. Blinking, you search for words, failing momentarily in favor of just grinning over the way Peregrin Took never fails in his unwitting quest to always surprise you. Heat creeps to your face, heat beyond even the beating of the sun down to your head.

Pippin, it seems, takes your silence as a form of denial. All but dropping the plated slice of pie in his hand, he wipes one set of fingers off on the edge of a napkin before waving both hands hastily back and forth.

"Unless I heard your conversation with Marigold wrong. I just got so excited thinking that we could be everything I'd dreamed of and that what you were doing was working. Not that you needed to do it because I already thought you were the prettiest thing I've ever seen and why am I saying all this?"

"Because you're cute," you gush, heart still flip-flopping at his words, at the way the sunlight dances off the curves of his sheepishly smiling cheeks, "and you're always managing to find new ways to steal my heart."

"Me?" His voice is so quiet it's all but a whisper of joy. "You think I'm... Well, I think you're just sweet as this pie here. No, sweeter. Besides finding new ways to steal your heart, might I find new ways to kiss you?"

"Smooth," you tease, shaking your head playfully, gleefully, "you might indeed."

If Pippin is thinking anything you made was sweet, not a single delight you could have whipped up in your kitchen stands a chance against the feeling of his lips on yours, dancing lightly against them in the springtime breeze.

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[shepherds-of-haven]

For the writing ask meme:

What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

What is your deepest joy about writing?

Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage. (i’m not picking one, just grab something that was fun to write!)

Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

-emeraldgreaves

What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

My writing ritual, up until around May, was like a little bit cursed: I'd typically write from 10 PM to around 4 or 5 AM, which is obviously not great. I'd also put on a show that was guaranteed to not distract me on extremely low volume (like 1 out of 100) in the background, so a show I'd seen a million times before, like the Office or Bob's Burgers.

Since coming back from a trip to Europe, though, I saw an opportunity to reset a schedule I'd kept to for the last 12 years and have now been rising and writing at a more appropriate time! Nowadays my writing ritual is going to the library, putting on fantasy or TTRPG orchestral music (particularly by Ivan Duch, who is composing the music for the game) in my earbuds, and clacking away! This ritual is only cursed in that some really weird shit happens sometimes at the library, but sometimes I get around that by reserving a study room for myself or me and my partner. 😌

What is your deepest joy about writing?

Hmmm, it seems cheap to say all of it! I think the satisfaction of completing a story that you've not only mapped out and plotted through, but actually executed, and then elicited strong emotional responses from others (hopefully as according to plan) as a result of all of that hard work is a truly joyful thing to experience. But just writing about the characters, exploring their psychology, and especially building their relationships to each other is also a huge part of it, and it's also a joy to explore and flesh out and create an entire new world for them to exist in... I just love all of it!

Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage. (i’m not picking one, just grab something that was fun to write!)

Around him, Scythia stirred to life beneath the skin-soaking warmth of early morning. It was just past dawn, so the heat of the day was not yet beating down on the city like a hammer against an anvil; but in an hour or two, it would edge close to brutal. Herald tipped his head back and let himself absorb the sights and sounds of the city while he still could. Long-necked white herons—called sword-birds for their vicious beaks—dueled together in lazy displays in the streets. Charcoal-eyed concurs beckoned him from curtained doorways, then caught sight of his own brand of ownership and looked away. There was the heavy, acrid scent of fuel and machine oil as he passed the Metal District, where mechanics in their garages toiled away on the racers and war rigs that crisscrossed the Badlands in choking clouds of dust. Underneath a shabby awning, a suntouched fortune-teller gave advice to a lean, restless merc with scarred shoulders and a face studded with fearsome metal rings.

This is from my current novel manuscript, which I keep telling people is like a cross between Mad Max and X-Men, but it's really evolved to become this more magical and intricate science fantasy, because I can't stay away from magic and humanoid/alien races and disparate cultures and, like, oppression and persecution, I guess. I really thought it was going to be a gritty dieselpunk adventure with machine guns and monster trucks and things, which it still has, but I think this passage (from the first chapter) kind of showcases its latest vibe, which is a bit more mystical and fantastical, as well. I've rewritten the first chapter at least five or six times, with this particular passage only being appended in the fourth or so iteration, so I think it's a good way of seeing (to me, the only one who read the first few drafts) how far the world has come, when the city and its environs weren't really described at all! I also just like the rhythm of the passage: there's something about it that feels satisfying. :)

Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

It's an absolute vital necessity to me. It actively bothers me when I see the Oxford comma not being used... I will always use the Oxford comma. You could pry it from my cold, dead hands and I'd still be using it on my gravestone!

[zipquips]

🎵'Tis the music ask again! Tell me about 5 songs you actually listen to. Proceed and send this to 5 of your most devoted followers 😌🎵

Thanks to you I put Happy Gary ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ now everywhere. A great source of joy.

hey vic!!!!! thanks so much for the ask and i'm so sorry that this has taken me approximately forever to answer. also, hell yeah, happy gary!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anyway! five songs i really, really, really like to listen to:

Honey by Magic Man - this was my top song last year and i still listen to it a bunch this year. it's just such a good song in generall and at this point it's a huge comfort song (i'll play it on loop to calm down, etc.)

Haircut by Chaz Cardigan - this song makes me feel seen and also reminds me that i can change any time i want

Molotov Girls by The Zolas - i am a huge fan of drums in my songs and imo this one is very good for this and has a lot of other fun/nice instrumental parts

Tha Melagholiso - Otherview Remix - MAD VMA 2019 - by Katy Garbi, Alcatrash, Otherview - i like to listen to greek music to feel more connected to the culture and this is by far my favorite. it's an all around great song and gets be hyped/motivated if i'm feeling down

Naatu Naatu by Rahul Sipligunj, Kala Bhairava - this is from the tollywood movie RRR (highly recommend watching it!!!) and this song just goes so hard and i do play it to get myself motivated, similar to number four, lmao. also, the telugu version of the song is so much better than the hindi version, i don't make the rules

(tbh, this was so hard because i listen to a lot of music and i'm so bad at picking faves and such but it was also so much fun, thank you!!!!!)

[anything-but-predictable]

Iba talaga nagagawa ng good and enough rest and sleep, lakas makaganda at maka uplift ng mood. I feel like I’m a completely different person today when I woke up following a 12+ hours of sleep, I can’t remember when was the last time I’ve done this. Three days off starts today! I was asked for a weekend trip to Wales but I really don’t feel like going coz I’m looking forward to recuperating from last week’s long days at work. It’s just so nice to not have any plans too. I miss my long warm baths and shower, inom night and massage session 😌

Slow days are one of life’s greatest joys. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I’m already on my 40’s. I mean wala namang masama dun, but can I savour this very moment at least?

At dahil hindi pa achievable ang lambing as one of my ultimate cravings, dito muna ko sa sinigang which is attainable and more realistic to achieve 😂

I haven’t had the time yet to shop kaya kung ano na lang ang meron sa fridge and pantry. Spinach has always been my pambansang gulay na pwede sa lahat, I used to cook laing using dried spinach nun nasa Saudi pa ako.

I appreciate every mundane chance of me to eat and enjoy my food in peace. Pag nasa work ako, nasa toilet or Ive just started my lunch hinahanap na agad ako which leads me to eating my food quickly to get back to work. Most of the time, sa nurses station na lang ako kumakain so I am around when something comes up.

[baahsu]

in my thinking about yonjis absurd strength era so woe yonji focused vscest appreciation post be upon ye

or more so specifically appreciation of how *easily* he could overpower pretty much all his siblings?? the only one we've seen be able to injure him in canon is sanji so he might be the exception but yk sanjis too much of a bottom to really fight back anyway lol

just. hear me out. yonji wanting to fuck a certain sibling and just.. looking at them for a moment before walking over to them, effortlessly picking them and then hauling them to the nearest private area. like imagine the first time this'd happen!!!

timeline wise he'd probably do it to niji first?? maybe yonji was watching niji flirting with a few service girls and then got unknowingly jealous- leading to him walking over and picking up niji in one arm, hauling his ass over his shoulder and bringing him to one of their bedrooms. niji was probably beating his hands against his back the whole time- face red, voice high pitched with embarrassment, and punches getting more and more aggressive until he was thrown onto a bed and *forced* to shut up.

idk i just think yonji should fuck niji dumb sometimes to get him to shut his noisy ass up 😌😌 niji deserves to be edged and teased to tears- not get fucked into oblivion- but hes hot as a bottom so ig he gets a pass. by the end of it i doubt he could talk, too high on good sex to form anything coherent… bimbo energy…

cant decide if reiju or ichiji would be next timeline wise but I'll go ichiji so reiju can start The Whipping post wci <3<3

but even saying that idrk what scenario would lead yonji to picking up ichi… uhhh hmm maybe… post 14ji mission the two r alone together and ichiji takes off his raidsuit in front of yonji, leaving him butt ass naked (a common occurrence that happens btwn the siblings even pre when they started fucking lol) and yonji is suddenly struck with the Vinsmoke Horny Gene™ which leads to him robotically walking over and picking ichi up :))

methinks yonji would pick ichiji up by folding his hands under his ass and trusting ichiji to wrap his legs around his waist (which ichi does, all while looking through his shades at yonji like "??" bc while hes not complaining/worried he IS confused lmao) this eventually leads to yonji carrying ichiji to the nearest bed, setting him down and just start *ravishing* him. by the end of it they're both numb (in a good way) and panting and ichiji looks over and says "Why didn't you just ask?" with yonji replying back w something along the lines of "Idk actually, you're just really hot." ichijis satisfied enough with that answer :]]

OKAY wci and sanji next <3<3

this ones easy for me- germa/124ji get sanj back and ofc immediately start wanting to fuck him upon seeing how hot hes become and sanji, while admittedly VERY confused and frightened, is like 'sure??' cause 124ji is hot and sex is sex lol. so sanjis walking (more like limping am i right :3c) around germa maybe a day or two before arriving at wci and yonjis just struck with the need to fuck him and fuck him *up* before he loses the vinsmoke name. so yonji walks over, throws that pretty boys ass into a firemans carry, and laughs as sanji is unable to fight back with his legs in that position.

yonji just drags him to a bedroom and throws him down before continuting to make sanji see stars- both because sanji looks good and pretty moaning underneath him and also bc this is kinda yonjis own fucked-up-horny-way of apologizing for all the bs he and 12ji put him thru. fuck away the trauma fahjkhjkklsas.. by the end of it sanjis only half conscious- covered in hickeys with a steady stream of blood coming out his nose and a stupid doped out smile on his face.. yonji likes that look on em

aaand last but not least mommy reijuuu <3<3<3

admittedly this one is more fluffy than smutty but 0&4 dynamic have a very specific place of joy in my heart so let me have this lol. so reijus out tryin on new clothes, yonji tagging along as her pack mule bc she promised him a reward 👀 for doing so, but as she walks out to keep showing off the outfits shes trying on (yonji just says they all look hot on her lmao) yonji eventually notices a creepy looking group of guys eyeing her up. now ofc reiju can take care of herself but.. whenever one of the dudes eyes linger too long on reijus ass whenever she walks out in a mini skirt well thats just too far for yonji. he straight up walks over to reiju, (gently) picks her up bridal style, and punches the douchebags through the wall on his way out. no they didnt pay for the clothes but the hells the store owner gonna do?? contest the man who put a hole in his wall??

anyways yonji carries her all the way back to a germa ship and only sets her down once they're alone and secure inside a bedroom- and reiju is IMMEDIATELY on him the second he puts her down (she could've gotten out of the hold anytime mind you- it was just a really sweet gesture so she didn't want to <3) her littlest brother?? showing concern for his nee-chan??? oh he deserves a reward :)) (his reward is being teased touched and ridden until hes screaming and drooling and laughing like a sex drunk idiot <3<3) what can reiju say?? that was a big step in yonjis journey of being able to Feel ofc she was gonna spoil him for a day ;]

HHAHA8AGIAH I PUT THIS IN A WORD DOC AND ITS LIKE OVER 1K WORDS LONG I AM SO SORRY 🙏🙈🙉

NO DON'T BE SORRY THIS IS THE BEST YONJI RELATED THING I'VE EVER READ EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS PERCEFT AND HOT AND DID I SAY PERFECT????

And it's even better because by the end he's starting to feel and omgkdjfksdfj but everything before that was so incredible too, his dynamic with each of the siblings was so accurate to me, I've never read 1k words so fat in my life, I WAS DEVOURING THIS

Niji being sort of tamed by yonji is incredibly hot, ichiji 100% trusting yonji is incredibly hot too, sanji having that starstruck look on him while covered in his nosebleeds is also incredibly hot and so reiju rewarding yonji. I'M ON MY KNEES OVER HERE, THANK YOU FOR THIS MASTERPIECE