#ridi writes

[nothisis-ridiculous]

XIII

Set years after the end of Baldur's Gate 3, Astarion and Tav mmet by chance after years apart. This story follows their meetings every year, on the anniversary of the start of their adventures.

I--- (AO3)

"Hells, a sweet white?"

Tav's pale eyes reflected the firelight of the golden candelabra that sat on the center of the table as they shot up, "you could order your own wine."

"What," the pale elf clucked, boldly taking the seat despite not being formally invited; who would deny his company, "no excitement in seeing a dear old friend after several years apart?"

A smile blossomed across her face, cheeks dusting with a blush that remained over the years, "I am happy to see you again, Astarion."

Astarion fought away the smile the corner of his mouth dared to start, replacing it with a dismayed frown, "I'm back around you for two seconds, and I already want to leave."

"Never change, Asty."

The spawn tsked.

"You almost conjured Lae'zel there," she retorted with a raised eyebrow, the broad smile plastering her face as the elf leaned back in her seat, "I could give you some pointers."

"I forgot how funny you were," the vampire's lips thinned with a harmless snarl, revealing a hint of fang, "mentioning our former compatriots in attempted ceremorphosis, how is life with the 'God of Ambition'?"

The plastered smile remained, but her shoulders collapsed amid her hand striking out to gather the wine glass back to her side of the table and to her waiting lips, "ambitious. Not that I mind the impromptu catch-up, but why are you here?"

After the obligatory eye roll, his hand pressed to his chest, the brown doublet that had seen many better days, "I'm beginning to suspect that you don't enjoy seeing me after all," he continued before Blaire's consoling could interrupt his speech, "but, I thought to myself, I only knew one creature insane enough to saunter though Baldur's Gate with a fully grown owlbear and leave it outside the tavern like a good little guard dog. And if I were wrong -well, I would insist on introducing them to another like-minded individual."

"Hmm," Tav breathed into her wine, "I didn't take you for the matchmaking sort-- they also wouldn't let me bring him in."

"Ah, even the privileges of hero-ship can't grant one everything. Statues that stand the test of time, all par for the course, but animal companions are where the line is drawn." 

"No, it's simple discrimination," she explained between another sip of wine, "displacer beats, pseudodragons, gremishkas, those are all fine. Common trivial beasts, but you try to sneak one superbly mannered owl bear into a tavern and they threaten to kick you out."

 "Hardly befitting the respect due to the 'Hero of Baldur's Gate,'" but calling this establishment a tavern was an insult; it stunk of money and overpriced vintages. The smells of the kitchen barely managed to intrude on the odor of the lavish potpourri and scented candle wax that littered the establishment. The patrons are the brand of people who begged to have their coin purses cut. Nicking one of the forks alone could pay for an entire modest outfit, he wouldn't, not while Blaire watched. One he thought he would enjoy in a previous life, but he felt out of place in practice. Besides, the burrowed minutes he had left in this place before discovery did not bode well for him, "But now that I know Faerun only has room enough for one owlbear fanatic, I should leave you to your... date?"

The warmth of her very living hand halted his flourish from the table, her gentle but desperate pressure keeping him from taking the first step away. She hung over the table, her knotted and freckled forehead pleading that he might stay. As Astarion's questioning gaze lingered, only deviating for a moment to glance down at her exquisite cleavage and the siren call of her neck beneath obsidian hair, did she release him with a furious blush. Planting herself back gracefully into the seat as if she never moved to begin with, her face masking at least the movement of embarrassment. 

"It's a table for one," she murmured.

He let the smile pull on his lips, "I could make it a table for two."

After all, there was a welcome familiarity to spending time with the bard that spearheaded the most interesting period in his long life. The silence that was a little novel turned to forgotten memories of the comfortable quiet between them, the squirreled away nights on the road they existed together without needing to say a word. He wouldn't admit their relationship had ever been an easy thing, but in silence, they could be themselves without putting on a mask. So he let it drag on in bliss, doing his best to observe the changes in his friend without seeming too forward. Little had changed on the surface, as the ageless quality of his former race tended to display until they moved far into the end of their millennia. She still wore the finest clothes, with the predictable corset, and still forsaking her abhorred dresses in favor of respectable pants. Something about her seemed to have faded past the diluted freckles and paler skin. But what could a vampire say about the lack of sunlight? Or the sapping of strength from the circumstances of life, he felt that own draw keenly. Part of this adventure into the topside of the city so he could forget the other spawn that awaited him in the city's underbelly. An endeavor aided by a sickening sentimentality; after all, it was the anniversary of that day all those years ago that would lead to the freedom he cherished and sometimes rued now. 

Blaire broke first, "everything going alright down there?"

Astarion raised an eyebrow; as much as he enjoyed not succumbing to the silence first, that was his role, "You mean leading a group of bloodthirsty vampires? I couldn't imagine that going wrong."

"I'm-"

He waived her off before the guilt trip could manifest verbally, "You'd be a little proud of me and equally disappointed. You can't deal with the bloodthirsty without situations ending bloody at times," his mouth moved into a frown, "darling, I may rue your name from time to time," the elf recoiled, so he dropped his tone, "but I suppose this responsibility that given me purpose and some measure of atonement."

"You almost ended that without sarcasm."

"And you almost resisted looking like a kicked puppy," he abhorred that look, but he had already admitted enough feelings for the night.

"Bite me, Assty."

"Your order?" the server interrupted, prompting them to correct their conspiratorial leaning. They looked at Tav with a fixed boredness that looked somewhere on her forehead, giving Astarion the opportunity to provide his smarmiest expression that included a suggestive wiggle of his brow.

"I'll uh,- chicken?"

"Herbed, with dumplings, abyssal... raw?"

Blaire ducked with a plunging blush, pulling a hand through her shoulder-length hair, "The... abyssal." 

The server turned from her, taking a long and appreciative look over her pale companion. Swallowing down the ugly ball of emotion in her throat, she continued, "with asparagus," Even if the effort was in vain. 

 Their voice took on a sultry note, hip curving out to let Astarion view them at a better angle, "and what would you like?"

"Something full-bodied," he snorted, making eye contact with his table mate, "and red."

The server remained for a long, very uncomfortable moment before Astarion motioned for them to leave. 

"And the devil's deal cake," she spoke to the server's retreating form.

The vampire snorted, then slowly began to laugh. That obnoxious, unfettered laugh that dared the Gods to strike it down. The entire weight of her... longing, missing, yearning, aching, and whatever feeling she would hate to admit hit hard in that happy moment. It was rumored that a vampire could hear or sense any change in the heartbeat of a living creature; Tav prayed that it was just a rumor. She would never hear the end of it if he could hear the stuttering, bordering on stopping mess. Upon further thought, the spawn would have already used that stuttering, fluttering heart against her if he had any such knowledge. Astarion was far too prone to anything that flattered him, even more likely to act on that flattery if it meant embarrassing someone else. So, there was nothing to worry about, nothing. 

"What," he pressed, with flaring nostrils, "what are you staring at?"

"You still sound like a prick," she murmured behind the hand that moved to cover her face.

"A dangerous, bloodthirsty prick," the man harrumphed.

Since the wine was the better option to lubricate her unpolished social skills, she brought that to her lips instead, "hmmm, three of the five best words to describe you."

"Do tell."

The smirk scrawled across her face.

"Blaire, darling," he intoned.

"We're ticking off patience."

"If you're going to tease me, I just won't give you the satisfaction of making me beg," his easy, or in her practiced experience fake smile returned, "Please."

It grew quiet again as Blaire's head turned to the window her table was saddled against, the cream gossamer curtains backlit by the light of the braziers that hung from a higher story. The view of what would be the Gray Harbor lost in the darkness of the long-ago set sun. The window reflected Blaire's blank expression, painting a picture reminiscent of his past. After all, a woman alone in a fit of melancholy was an easy target, the faint but unmistakable spark of despair a homing beacon to his trained senses. His fingers dug into the fine wood of the table. 

Again, Blaire was the first to break the silence, "how many spawn are left?"

Astarion grimaced, "a couple thousand, if I had to guess. Not everyone liked the 'civilized' rules of the colony, some poor souls that gave up, others that broke the rules, so justice had to be served," he proffered a toothy grin, "others to the attention a large hive of vampire spawn created. Some lost to their own stupidity... I don't feel sorry for them."

The next long pause was created by the waiter dropping off a goblet of red liquid for the vampire; of course, the waiter stalled. Astarion returned the lack of attention given to his companion, his cold disregard for their existence ushering them away, "but I came to the surface to get away from that for the night; besides, I'm sure your adventures are much more interesting than my mundane problems."

"I suppose you'd remember the anniversary of our travels," she mumbled with a flickering frown.

The spawn paused before the glass touched his lips, "still such sentimentality," ending the statement with a gentle series of tsks.

Her opalescent eyes flared in the flickering firelight, the scant evidence she would ever show of being angry; gods this woman still needed to loosen up. In return his red eyes rolled, continuing the conversation before it could lead to more of her loudly silent disapproval, "what brings you to a place like this? With such... stellar service?" He would avoid verbally teasing her about scrounging in the mud for this conversation. 

"A girl can adapt to fancy surroundings," Tav returned with a snort, "but I'm here as a favor to a friend. But their service could use a few pointers, that wine isn't what you ordered."

Impulsively, his tongue dipped into the 'wine,' "Organic," he mused, "sort of takes the fun out of it."

"Thought you, out of anyone, would have noticed the bleeding server," Tav teased.

"My friend, when you are as used to heroically controlling your hunger as I do," one delicate silvery eyebrow raised, "you begin to ignore the allure of blood." Truthfully, he was focused on one particular creature's blood, but it wouldn't do to give away those cards.

"Count out humble," Blaire returned brightly.

"Yes, Yes, humble is boring anyways," he tried not to seem greedy about gulping down his cup of wine, "since we're being particularly elusive, what will you tell me about your latest adventures?"

"Honestly, it's been 'mundane,'" she picked at her clothing, removing a strand of hair from her white shirt, "I spent some time in Baldur's Gate to help with the rebuilding after that... I've mostly been in Waterdeep, not doing much to entertain."

"That would explain why you've been a stranger," Astarion tutted from his glass.

"I'm not- I haven't-" She readjusted, sitting up straight, "well, that is a two-way street."

"How very Jaheira of you."

Blaire's shoulders fell, and her gaze fluttered away to something more interesting outside the darkened window, "I suppose walking into the vampire den would have been easier." Her remark was paced beat too slow, betraying the light spin she tried to put on it. 

"You may not be surprised to find that your celebrity status reaches some dangerous and dark places," behind his smile, the fangs lengthened, "but going there would not have been your best idea."

A smile returned to her face, "I only make the soundest decisions." 

Astarion let her have that one, albeit silently, and the excuse of her plate arriving left him with a gentler defeat. His gaze moved with feigned interest over her entree; two hundred years spent unable to eat food made particularly disgusting by retching when it crossed his mouth unconsciously caused his nose to scrunch in response. He avoided eye contact with the server, who had taken an obvious shine to him; he greedily stowed the compliment but wasn't interested in anything related to this person. The wine was a fine vintage, but he desired something more... familiar. 

"I believe my friend ordered the side of asparagus," he mentioned blandly, keeping his gaze on Blaire, "not the green beans. I feel almost bad for taking the blood your brain so desperately needs."

Tav's head shook, "Astarion," she chided, "the green beans are fine."

"Dear, you wouldn't touch a green bean if it could resurrect your childhood pet," his finger pointed languidly to the plate, "take it back, and only return once you manage to get the order correct."

Thoroughly chastised, the server swiped up the plate, offering exuberant apologies to the table. Unable to look at the vampire, the server focused on the elf, who offered a comforting but tight smile. 

"Astarion," she chided again the second the server disappeared from sight, "that wasn't necessary."

"Neither was that behavior," he returned flippantly. Perhaps the ogling had also touched a nerve, strange as it felt to reflect on now. In the den of spawn, he was nothing but the callous man keeping everyone together under the threat of a dagger between the ribs, well, or the proverbial chopping off of the head. Stake to the heart. Something. This flirtatious verging on sexualizing gaze was unwelcome, burdensome.  

She sighed heavily, "surely there was a kinder way."

He shot back a smirk, tugging the knife from the cutlery napkin, "I could have threatened them."

"I appreciate your hesitation," she fought a smile but only half-heartedly. 

"Well, enjoy your disgusting food," he mused, "one of us should."

She returned a tight smile as the correct plate with the vegetable side was placed before her. The server was different and waited patiently for her to make it through a few bites of her meal. All the while, the orcish server did their best to avoid even looking at the vampire spawn, fearing drawing his ire out of a misplaced look. Or, perhaps, was the hint of admiration slipped from the Orc's attempt at a professional demeanor that kept his gaze trained on the living elf. 

"Is everything to your liking," the new server braved.

"It's wonderful, thank you," Blaire smiled at the kid warmly, too warmly. 

The Orc's shoulders relaxed, "Please, if you need anything further, I would be happy to oblige."

Astarion felt the twinge of something rotten in his chest. Joy, Blaire had a fan. 

"I'll let you know if I need anything-- past another round of drinks," she glanced to Astarion, "without the need to maim yourself."

The Orc bowed, pivoted, and moved for the establishment's interior, "yes, Sear."

 "But I'm positively parched," Astarion whined a touch too loudly. 

"Those eyes have never worked on me."

"It was a fair shot; the years change things," Astarion settled back with a grin, "what then brings you back to Baldur's Gate?"

"Ravengard wanted something," Tav picked at her food, "I've kind of been avoiding it."

Astarion's eyebrow raised, "am I sitting across from the future Duke Tav?"

Tav choked on her chicken, "don't you curse me with that."

"The city does have a history of electing adventurers."

"Astarion, no."

"I would know."

"Yes, yes, you're so old."

The spawn's brows furrowed, "that was uncouth."

"Sorry," she countered with a smile, "mature."

"You cruel beastie," he returned with a hiss.

Tav chuckled gently to savor the moment she chewed and swallowed another bite before assuaging his ego, "You look perfect as ever, don't you fear."

"I guess that will do," but his smile returned, taking another sip of questionable red liquid from the second goblet, "but they will at least run you through 

parliament before assigning you Dukeal duties." 

Tav shot him a curt glare, "you have far too much faith in me."

"No," but a gentler smile morphed on his face, "you do have a way with words, but you are a pushover, darling. The perfect pawn for political machinations."

Tav grimaced, glad she had a temporary excuse for her silence in more prolonged chewing, "I appreciate the candor," she really tried to take it in stride, but the forceful stabs into her vegetables proved otherwise. 

"I told you as a friend- not to make you squirm as much as I may enjoy that in certain situations," he gently placed the cup down, "don't let the bastards use you, and always watch your back."

"If that's even what's happening," but as a Baldurian, it made sense. In the years of cleanup after the defeat of the Absolute, she saw no small amount of power afforded to her; Ravengard had asked her to stay then. Tav had refused, and each letter he had sent every year hence. "But I'm well aware of needing to watch my back."

"Do tell," he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, "you're finally giving me something juicy to stew over when I return home."

"Fucking Wulbren," she glanced at her plate, feeling off the food, "the gith, hells some Znetherim."

"You were too kind to kill him," he didn't need to add that he thought it was a mistake that she let him go.

"He remains slippery," Tav grinned sheepishly, "not out of lack of trying."

"Have we finally taken the first steps toward becoming a bloodthirsty killer?"

She huffed, "I did try to make him see sense the first time."

"Of course, your precious 'honour' comes before the sullying of your blade," he gently mocked, "it's nice to know that 'heroic' heart of yours is still causing you trouble."

"He did ruin that nice pair of boots I saved," she returned with a kernel of amusement. 

His obnoxious, didn't-give-a-shit laughter filled the room again, "such a waste of a five-star meal; think of the magic-eating orphans!"

Blaire's smile reached the corner of her eyes for the first time that night; instead of joining in with even a polite chuckle, her chin tucked in, trying to obscure her expression behind a veil of hair, "though, I suppose those boots had seen far too many owners. It was a kinder retirement."

He didn't remark, preferring not to end this meeting on a more sour note. It was past time to return to his life. This hour, combined with travel, would see him back well into midday and to at least several incidents he would be obligated to correct. It was a terribly sentimental journey for the effort it required to see it out, but fulfilling in a way he refused to explore any further.  

"By the way you haven't touched your plate; I assume you are finished?"

"The years really don't change much, do they," Blaire pushed the plate to the center of the table and gulped away the rest of the wine in her goblet, "I suppose we both have our lives to return to."

"As much as I would love to abscond my responsibilities for the next three centuries," he scoffed at the egregious amount of gold she threw casually on the table, "they can wait until the next Duke of Baldur's Gate is seen home safely."

Tav brightened, blushed, and gave another adamant shake of her head, "imagine what that might do for the future Duke's reputation."

It was unspoken that they had both decided to leave without the proper ceremony.

"I'm beautiful and would only imply you have excellent taste in bedfellows," he said proudly and with a flourishing bow as they exited the establishment.

"Two strikes against humble," she murmured in response, refusing to acknowledge a single jab.

He strode beside Blaire silently, and it settled heavily between them this time. She certainly acted more paranoid, with her eyes scanning the buildings and corners before they met them. Her fingertips grazed at the knives at her thigh, or was it something to distract her? His mouth refused to work simultaneously; anything he could say was not funny, witty, sarcastic, or relative enough to speak into the empty space between them. Part of him reasoned on savoring the moment with her; he was happy to be at her side again after so many long years. As much as this felt like home, something felt tainted with regard to his old companion, off-kilter. As usual, she was hiding something, but it was gnawing at a corner of his mind while simultaneously wrestling with his preferred attitude of feigned disinterest. Blaire was not his ward or lover to worry over. 

"This is me," she interrupted all too soon, looking up at the Elfsong Tavern, because where else would she stay?

Astarion paused, giving her a thorough once-over. But she, in return, made no move forward, planted in her spot. She hesitated for several lengthening moments, drew a deep breath, and plowed ahead. Finding to his surprise, his hand lunged at her wrist to prevent her from leaving him for just another moment longer. 

"Blaire," his pitch lowered, "I hate to impose, but something is upsetting you. I can-"

"It's nothing," she looked away, yanking her wrist free from his grasp.

"I have been wrong on occasion," he gave a curtsy and pivoted.

"Have you seen Gale?"

He glanced over his shoulder, plastering on a bored expression, "what would a God want with his least favorite spawn?"

Her mouth fell, "yeah."

"Though, I feel confident a rejection on a deity's offer of godly ascension would be akin to a breakup," Astarion's blasé response was unintentionally harsh.

"I suppose everyone heard that," Tav mumbled, her voice quieting.

"The gods and their theatrics, powerful and imposing isn't the same if one can't make a few mortals quake," he knew as the words leaked from his mouth that it wouldn't make Blaire feel in the slightest bit better. Yet they burst forth.

As predicted, her just-kicked puppy expression contorted across her features, arms simultaneously folding over her center to protect herself from the blow, "would explain why I haven't seen him since then," she bleated on without an ounce of conviction to her otherwise brave words, "awkward."

"So, we've been waiting around for...?"

"Well, again, thanks for the candor. I really needed that ground in," she bordered on that rare edge of anger, her backlit form turned sharply away.  

Some almost rare inkling at the edge of his conscious snapped him out of the ugly jealousy that drove his unkind speeches; for the second time in a short minute, he chased after her. Soon, he found his arms wrapped around her, blocking up the entrance to the Elfsong. The vampire's heart stuttered with more unfamiliar and long-buried feelings. His greedy fingers worked into the silky strands of her inky hair, lending his strength even in the simple act of cradling the back of her head. Blaire's arms tightened, clinging to something solid beneath her.

Another moment that lasted hours, and at once too short a second before the flustered pair separated. 

"Don't be a stranger, darling," it was his flimsy stab at an apology.

"Heh," Blaire brushed her hair back into place, "same time next year? For sentimentality's sake."

Astarion rolled his eyes, "fine, if you insist."

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Do you have any fic recs for maybe the best Sirius portrayals you've come across? Thanks!

ahhhhhhh

okay well, im obviously biased, and i love my own fics, the end.

but, if you don't want to read my nonsense, here are some of my favs:

-the son and heir of nothing in particular by @steelycunt (aeridi0nis on AO3) as well as on the issue of fever and delight and in lieu of beaujolais.

as you can see, i'm particularly fond of their writing and despite loving to be mean to Sirius (in the best sort of way, he is our barbie doll that gets chewed on sometimes, shaken like a rag doll), always do a phenomenal job of capturing his demons and the vibe. there's a particular line in OTIOFAD where sirius is there trying to apologize, and he, like, can't figure out how to slouch enough to do so, and it just hits right where it should. yes.

-the shape and sound of god by @dykefever (dykesiriusblack on AO3).

this is a fleabag AU, and Sirius is the star of the show. I am in love with this sad, sad, depiction of him. What I love a lot about sirius is how raw he is, like literally an open wound walking around and he pulls people into it, but he's always honest about that too. and is just like trying trying trying to be better, but the wound is just festering and. this. also, if you're in the mood for more dykefever, i highly recommend (in my room) i want you here

sweater weather by lumosinlove; look, i am a cult member too. i am nothing but a cult member. (i'm not tagging because I'm sure they get tagged 80x every day, yall know where to go)

Beneath a Big Blue Sky by @eyra; also a cult member for this one, i can't help it. There's something so delightful about sirius in this. and understanding. our sweet silly boy. everyone's comfort fic is also my comfort fic.

Boys Don't Cry by @blitheringmcgonagall (YouBlitheringIdiot on AO3);

i don't tend to read about the Prank because it makes me feel too much and drives me insane but THIS ONE. THIS ONE. yes. will read. and Sirius's characterization in this is top tier.

Drifters by twentysevensummers; the insane times i have read this single chapter.

At the Healing Edge of Broken by @heartofspells

OKAY LOOK I HAD TO COME BACK AND EDIT THIS POST. so fair warning (and i told tumblr user heartofspells this when i was reading as well), i had to do some skimming with some of the subject matter in this fic. BUT that does not erase the fact i LOVED this sirius. i loved how sweet he was with harry. i loved his humor. i loved his arrogance and forced vulnerability. I binged this and then went straight to the authors DM's to scream so. yeah. whoops.

(please let the record show i dont generally make rec lists because I'm always afraid someones going to be sad they weren't on it. but here are some of my favs that i find myself returning to.)

[steelycunt]

‘gay retelling of a classic!’ ‘feminist sapphic twist on this greek myth!’ why don’t you write a better book than that. i think we deserve better books than that

[catastrofeanotherme]

mangia bene, ridi spesso, ama molto

[pancakehouse]

hello bab!! absolutely obsessed with this prompt game idea xx im giving you a choice between 12 and 19--take your pick xox

send me a richard siken line and i'll write a mini fic inspired by it

hi omg HELLO ridi!! isn't it insane! prob the worst idea anyone's ever had im so excited about it!!!!!

ahhh god okay i went with:

19. i take off my hands and i give them to you. (oh also, vaguely nsfw? like not at all but also sorta, to be safe!)

“Did you know I’m left-handed?” 

The question startles Remus. At first, he’s sure he’s misheard, muffled as the words are, spoken into the small dip of skin where his collarbone meets the bony juncture of his shoulder. It was never a spot Remus thought was particularly notable or interesting, at least not until the day Sirius Black decided to attach his lips there, and make it so. 

Remus' breath hitches. “Hm?” he murmurs. His hand tightens in Sirius’ hair, fingers scraping scalp, and he tugs lightly until Sirius lifts his head. “What?” 

Night sky leaks through the curtains, and Sirius’ eyes are shining, lips parted and cherry red. There’s always something that sits heavy in Remus’ stomach on the nights they do this, like holding your breath underwater, or the slow tick of a broken clock. Something that’s over, inevitably, just as soon as they're brave enough to admit it. 

“I said-” And Sirius is grinning, because surely he’s only thinking of the bulge in Remus’ trousers, and how they can be as loud as they want now, here, in their flat, and is not - like Remus - thinking of all the ways he’d break himself apart, limb from limb from limb, if it might drag this thing out a little bit longer. “I said…” Sirius leans in, presses a kiss under Remus’ jaw, “-did you know-” another kiss to his throat, one to his chest, “that I-” cold fingers, skirting under his waistband, “...am left handed.” Sirius finishes with a poke and a loud, wet smack just above his belly-button. He snickers into it, warm breath tickling the hairs there. 

“Yes, Pads,” Remus huffs, stomach trembling, his voice horribly shaky. “Seeing as I shared a dorm with you for seven years, and classes for just as long…yes, Sirius, I had noticed sometime in there that you were left-handed.” 

There’s a moment, still and quiet. The sheets are warm, and balmy summer air drifts through the open window. A bird perches on the sill, claws scratching into chipped white paint and grass that’s sprung up between the cracks. They look at each other - him and Sirius, not him and bird - and the heavy feeling in Remus’ stomach feels sort of nice. Like a weighted blanket.

Eventually, Sirius nods. Slowly. “Well, good,” he says. His mouth quirks in the corner. “Good, because I’ve noticed things about you, too.” 

Remus’ hands find themselves back in Sirius’ hair.

Have you? he wants to ask. What kinds of things?

And then: because there are so many things i’ve noticed about you. i noticed that you went for a run in the rain yesterday and your legs were hurting after and your hair looks lovely when it’s damp. and last week at the park your hands smelled like orange slices and sometimes you smile when i walk into the room and also sometimes you don’t. 

…have you noticed how i always smile? when i see you. but maybe it’s not obvious. maybe you don’t think it’s obvious, just like you don’t think i know you write with your left hand and have a scar across the middle knuckle from Prongs and maybe you don’t realise i kiss it every time i have the chance and maybe you don't notice how the smell of oranges in summer always makes me sneeze. have you noticed that? what else is there to see?

“Alright,” he says instead. Because it’s their flat and it’s his bedroom and Sirius’ knees are around his hips, and maybe he doesn’t feel like being brave enough to acknowledge anything else right now. 

“Alright?” Sirius laughs. “You’ll allow it?” 

“Sure.” Remus cups his cheek, grins slowly, hesitantly, into their next kiss. Do you feel this? he wants to ask. My hands, these hands, these lips…they’re all yours. Do you have any use for them? “Yeah, alright, I’ll allow it.”

[dykefever]

hi hi!!! 15 for the siken ask prompt maybe dorlene? or r/s! your pick

brynn!!! hello!! i wrote dorlene for this prompt already so here's r/s ex-fwb :-)

for the anon asking for 15, here ya go as well x

15. i carried you to the car and drove you home but you weren't making any sense.

His chest expands and contracts beneath Sirius's palm, ribs making room for his unsteady breaths. Jostling Remus at the waist, he moves them forward, one two three steps in time with each other. It makes the night air catch in Sirius's throat, choke-hold winter.

Remus mumbles something and Sirius has to lean in to hear him. He squeezes Remus's waist and pretends, pretends it doesn't make his fingertips warm. They don't do that anymore. They were never supposed to do this.

It's been four months and Sirius is still picking Remus out from beneath his fingernails. He's still scraping him off his tongue.

"What was that?" he asks.

Remus blinks slow, looks at Sirius from beneath his fringe, messily falling over his eyes and a little damp with sweat from the crowded party.

"My keys," Remus says, voice on the edge of a slur. Smacks his lips. "They're in my pocket."

Sirius nods once. "Right. Well. You can reach."

And Remus, he widens his eyes, his honey-brown eyes, and sticks out his bottom lip. It's a look he's used on Sirius before because it always works. It makes Sirius's insides go soupy, makes his heart fucking flutter. He looks at Remus beneath the flickering light by his front door, messy and alcohol-smeared, pout sweeping into a loose smile.

He can't - he can't anymore -

He reaches around Remus and sticks his fingers in his front pocket, digging until he touches metal. He extracts the keys and shoves them in the front door, not looking at Remus. Steering them through the cramped entryway, he guides Remus through his bedroom door on the right, pulling his arm so he continues into the tiny ensuite.

There are three damp towels crumpled in one corner and it smells like the one pound soap Remus uses that dries out his elbows so much he has to moisturise them at night. Insufferable idiot -

"Sirius," Remus whines, leaning against the counter, eyelids drooping. "Sirius."

"Yeah," Sirius sighs, and his voice is too soft, so he clears his throat and says, "yeah. What is it?"

Remus reaches his hands out, finding their way beneath Sirius's collar and pulling him in close, nuzzling the side of his cheek, bottom lip pulling over his brow. Sirius leans into it, hot, aching, and then he remembers: they don't do this anymore.

He yanks away and scrapes a hand through his hair. "Remus," he grunts.

"Oh," Remus whispers, head tilting to the side against the wall. "We - right. Yeah."

Sirius stares at him, at his ugly orange-brown jumper stretched out at the collar, at the hollow of his throat and the bruise smudged at the hinge of his neck and shoulder that some fucker gave him earlier tonight. The sight burns hot and sour in Sirius's stomach, flares stark in his chest. He looks away.

"You know - you know, Sirius, I didn't. I didn't want to stop."

"What?" he asks, frowning. He looks back at Remus.

Remus shakes his head, still leaning against the wall. "We had to - it was - it was going to have to end. And I didn't want that. We had to be friends."

"Right, well," Sirius huffs, folding his arms over his chest. Clenching his jaw. "Was your choice."

"Yeah," Remus whispers, "s'pose it was. Sorry."

"You've said that before."

"It's - well - you've got other boys, everyone wants you. Everyone. And - I've seen it, you know? So I've just got, I'm just leftover. Afters. Not even that."

"I don't -" Sirius swipes a hand over his chin, "I don't understand."

Remus shrugs and smiles, cheeks all flushed. The smile stays at his lips. "Guess not." He blinks, slumping further into the wall. "Bed?" he murmurs.

"Water," Sirius mumbles. The back of his neck is sweaty.

Remus nods but doesn't move so Sirius fills up a glass by the sink and holds it to Remus's lips until he grasps it. Even then, he keeps his hand on the glass, fingers overlapping with Remus's, watching his throat move as he swallows.

"Bed now," Sirius whispers, setting the glass down once Remus is finished.

Remus leans forward and stumbles a little, into Sirius's (waiting) arms. He dips forward, leaning all over Sirius. Sirius holds him.

"You're my best friend, you know," Remus murmurs. And then, "Can you- can you just hold me. Tonight."

Sirius runs a hand over the back of his head, presses his nose behind Remus's ear and inhales. Closes his eyes as he says (what else would he say?), "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

[loverscrossmp3]

TALK TO ME ABOUT SIRIUS POV OF JILY!! DARE I ASK FOR A SNIPPET IF YOU HAVE ONE!! need to get inside his freaky little brain xx

i think i've talked the same thing about it over and over again before but!! it is simply set some time in seventh year, sirius observing lily and james fall in love while they pretend that they aren't! sirius and lily's friendship is also too important to me so there's plenty of that too! it's also in the second person. i could not tell you why. xx

snippet:

WIP ASK GAME

[gaewaren]

outside the mutuals divorce court begging you for forgiveness lana 😔 i still love you we can make this work 😔

i'm not divorcing you! that photo of jack's gone off the wall and i'm putting up yours, actually. thing about me i stand with my cancelled wife!!

[mediocre-megs]

just beta things

[teriri-sayes]

TCF Author Q&A (Quick Summary)

Ridi, one of the Korean publishers of TCF/LCF, released an exclusive Q&A with Yoo Ryeo Han, the author of TCF, as a special feature for the release of the Korean ebook version of TCF.

The ebook has 5 volumes, spanning chapters 1-117 of Part 1. It costs around 12,960 won. The Q&A can only be viewed if you buy the ebooks.

Since the Q&A isn't publicly available for free, I won't post a full translation of it. Just a quick summary of it.

***

Q: How do you write the entire story? A: Set the overall flow, and write the details as I write. Ending has already been decided.

Q: Easiest or most difficult character to create a setting? A: Easiest - none. Most difficult - Choi Han.

Q: Character that changed the most from the initial setting? A: Alberu. Supposed to be an insignificant villain, but changed to someone who talks well with Cale when I came up with the glib tongue trait.

Q: Writer's block solution? A: Just write. Eventually, I become immersed and get ideas.

Q: Most important focus when planning the story? A: The characters. I like them to feel alive.

Q: Cat owner? A: Sadly, I'm not a cat mom.

Q: Writing routines? A: I write in the morning.

Open previous chapter

Play a puzzle game while listening to fave entertainment program

Choose music that suits the mood

Start writing

Q: Stress relievers? A: Before, eating. Now, weight lifting in the gym.

Q: Main characters's MBTI? A: Cale is an "I." I never thought about the others.

Q: Author's MBTI? A: Between INFJ and ISFJ. A relaxed J.

Q: Character you want to be a friend? A: Beacrox - he cooks delicious food Cale - he buys good meat Not CH because I hate strenuous exercise

Q: Modern AU of characters? A:

Raon: Kindergarten student On, Hong: Elementary school students Cale: Workaholic dreaming of a slacker life Choi Han: Fencer Alberu Crossman: Young CEO of the company Cale works in Rosalyn: Youngest professor Lock: High school student Ron: Doctor Beacrox: Chef Eruhaben: Building owner who runs a convenience store in his building and buys snacks for Raon, On, and Hong every day

Q: Character that makes you feel bad and care about because they're in pain? A: Lock. Lock-centric arc soon.

Q: Similarities with Cale? A: Doing nothing while resting and lying down.

Q: Best character line? A: Not a character line, but a sentence - "But it's worth a try." (Teriri: This sentence can be found on the first chapters of both Parts 1 and 2.)

Q: Fave scene? A: Raon Miru naming scene.

Q: Happiest scene? A: Cale coughing blood... When Cale and his friends are eating and resting.

Q: Most difficult to write scene? A: The past of the characters.

Q: How many chapters from start to end? A: No comment because I always get it wrong...

Q: Work environment? A: Write alone with background music. But no public places.

Q: What songs do you listen to? A: Pop songs.

Ed Sheeran – I See Fire

Sia – Alive

Sia – Floating Through Space

Keala Settle – This Is Me

Naomi Scott – Speechless

AKMU – Chantey

Ahn Ye Eun – Sailing

Younha – Oort Cloud

Q: Most important character setting? A: Disposition, way of life, goals, and atmosphere they exude.

Q: Setting that reflects author's preference? A: The Indestructible Shield.

Q: Scene you want to write the most? A: Has not come out yet.

Q: Do you like dumplings? A: I love them to the point my family is amazed that I'm not tired of it.

Q: You like misunderstandings, so are you a misunderstood person? A: No. I'm far from it.

Q: Snacks you eat when writing? A: Lots of water. I eat food during breaks.

***

And that's all. If you want to read the full Q&A and legally support the author, you can buy the ebooks on Ridi. It's only around 10 USD if you convert Korean won. Link here: https://ridibooks.com/books/111048924

However, you can't use Google Translate or screenshot it, so your solution is to have two devices. One has the ebook (either in PC view or in Ridi app), and the other device has the Google Translate app installed so you can use the camera to translate the text... Yeah, that's what happened to me. 🥲

[wolfstarhaven]

FLATMATES (part 2)

Two years ago today I made my flatmates rec list, which is my favourite list ever. I never get tired of this trope. So, since it is once again my birthday, here are some lovely additions!

losing my mind, thinking about you, by drowsyanddazed (16k)

The black kohl along his water line is smudged, black flecks of it dusting his cheekbone. His hair is still flying everywhere, whipping across his face. He’s a mess. He’s the blurred edges of a photograph. He’s a heartbeat and stinging lungs. He’s the rattling behind Remus’ ribcage. And Sirius grins at him, tongue between teeth —illecebrous and tantalising and all things beautiful and dangerous— and all the air rushes out of Remus’ lungs in one fell swoop. He’s lightheaded and dizzy and burning.

An absolute gem, this one. In which the first wizarding war is on the rise, but the boys are flatmates and they go grocery shopping!! The jealousy and pining is perfect.

Heat the Winter Floods + A Little Sincerity Is a Dangerous Thing, by daphnaea (6k)

(Two parts)

It was funny, Sirius thought, the things you could fail to learn about your best mate despite sharing a dormitory for seven years.

A story of pining for you flatmate, in two parts. Set during the first war, it’s slightly angsty but oh so lovely and well-written.

Seeing Other People, by swings_and_roundabouts (21k)

Where Sirius is hopelessly in love with Remus Lupin who is always just a little out of reach. But their friends with benefits situation isn't sustainable, Remus is so close yet so far away and Sirius doesn't know if he can take it anymore.

Once again, they live together and are friends with benefits. Lots of pining, jealousy and idiocy follows, as well as a sort of “break-up”. This is quite angsty, very much a “requited unrequited love” kind of fic (which I LOVE).

Friends Don't, by shadow_prince (2k)

That didn’t stop him from glancing over the top of the paper to where he stood at the edge of the hallway. He was frozen in the way you froze just before you kicked off the ground on your broom. Right before a runner pushed off the block. Right before you dove off a cliff into the sea. Frozen with the promise of movement about to burst forth.

Sirius watched him, holding his breath.

“You’re lying.”

Short and sweet, less angst and more fluff!

the son and heir of nothing in particular, by @steelycunt (24k)

Remus is nineteen and tired, now. And he knows that if he and Sirius were ever going to become anything—if Sirius loved Remus the way Remus loves, and will probably always love, him—it already would’ve happened.

Another fic that proves that this trope is the absolute best. In which Remus is a stubborn prick (we love him) who refuses to move in with Sirius — but in the end he has no choice. There’s arguing, hurt feelings, and a stupid amount of pining. And, let’s now forget, the writing is out of this world lovely. Ridi’s characterisation of Remus is to die for. A must read!

Don't Make Me Beg For You (Because I'll Beg For You), by CuriousMay (14k)

“What?”

"You know, Rita Schaffer? She was that 4th year who had that incident with Bleatchley's Beauty Bleach in '75 just after our exams and Madam Pomfrey had to regrow all her hair-" Remus starts as he puts down the tomato but Sirius cuts him off with a sharp wave of his hand.

"No, not that, you idiot. The other bit. You said - you said you're in love with me?"

This fic was so much fun! In which Remus thinks that everyone, including Sirius, knows that he’s in love with him. Turns out: Sirius didn’t know. Some big realisations, pining and lots of sexual tension ensue.

Practical Oddities, by lurikko (48k)

Regulus needs a place to stay, Remus needs to get over Sirius. It’s August 1979 and things are getting out of hands.

In which Remus lives on Sirius’ sofa. That is, until Regulus shows up. Slow burn and beautiful pining in a First War setting. Lovely!

stars by the pocketful, by simplyylupin (16k)

But Sirius, Sirius is winter. He’s the cold mornings that startle you awake the instant you step outside. He’s the intricate snowflakes, the blunt shards of ice. He’s the holiday cheer, the twinkling lights and dainty decorations. He’s Aurora Borealis twisting around blinking stars. Remus always feels like he’s dying during winter. And if that isn’t the most ironic thing.

A wintery muggle au 5+1 fic full of not so subtle mutual pining. Very very cute!

Hic sunt dracones, by aryastark_valarmorghulis (5k)

Remus and Sirius try putting on makeup and end up trying a lot more: sex, kissing, and maybe even talking about feelings.

Well-written and spicy🌶️ Also very sweet! Poor Remus is pining like mad, and then he has to live through Sirius putting makeup on him? Torture☺️

I've sat upon the setting sun, by fiddleleafedfig (4k)

Sirius could see the swoop of long eyelashes that lined the brown eyes, still glued to the notebook in front of him. And as those sunrays danced, Sirius felt something heavy hit the pit of his stomach, simultaneously lodging itself in his throat.

A short story of falling in love over the years. They don’t live together in the beginning, but they do later on. Sweet fluff!

xx Elliot

[ultramarine-spirit]

Ultramarine's Ridibooks Guide

A (hopefully) simple guide to how to use Ridibooks!

What is Ridibooks? Ridibooks is a website where you can read all kinds of webtoons, novels, and books in Korean. It also has an app (for mobile and PC)! Ridibooks has the advange compared to other similar platforms such as Kakao and Naver of not being region-locked, so it might be your only option to read some manhwas in Korean.

Is the site safe? Yep! It's one of the major manhwa platforms, and I've used it many times.

How do I use it? Firstly, you have to make an account (top-right corner of your screen, 👤 icon). I recommend using Chrome or other browsers with a MTL function, so the page is easier for you to navigate.

Buying manhwas and novels. I'll use WMMAP as an example! Search 어느 날 공주가 되어버렸다 (WMMAP in Korean). You'll see you have 4 options. Buying the manhwa per chapter (200 won for rental, 500 won for purchase), buying the manhwa per volume (7,500 won each), buying the novel per volume (2,310 won for rental, 3,300 won for purchase), and buying the novel per chapter (100 won each).

Let's say we want to buy the manhwa per chapter.

Once you click on that option for purchase, you'll see that the site gives you two options, renting a chapter (200 won) or purchasing a chapter (500 won). Choose accordingly to what you want, but be aware that the site checks the rental option by default! So you have to go to the "keep it" tab if you want to buy it.

Also, consider that WMMAP's chapters can be unlocked for free (1 each day, available to read for 3 days), excluding the last 10 chapters.

Ridi Cash. As most manhwa platforms, Ridibooks has its own currency, Ridi Cash (much like Tapas' ink or Tappytoon's points), that you need to buy to then purchase manhwas or novels. It's worth almost the same as won, but with a 3% accumulation rate. Selecting the "Ridi Cash" option in your user profile will allow you to recharge the currency.

There, you can choose how much you want to charge. It's likely that the only payment method available to you is an overseas credit card (any should work), so you'll have to check that box (also remember to check the purchase confirmation!).

After that, you just write your credit card information, and you should be ready to buy your favorite manhwa or novel! They'll be available for you to read in your library (top-right corner of your screen, 📚 icon).

[concatenationart]

The band walking out to Vesti La Giubba from Leoncavallo's opera Pagliacci tonight, on Danger Days night, has really got me feeling something. That opera is about a commedia dell'arte actor who finds out Nedda, his wife (who also plays the wife of his character, Pagliaccio, in their troupe), is cheating on him and he ends up killing her and her lover on stage. Canio sings this aria right after he realises Nedda is cheating on him. He is holding his clown costume, putting on his clown makeup and singing 'you have to force yourself- you're not a man, you're a clown, let them laugh at your tears and distress.' The climax of the aria, the line Gerard walked out to, is 'ridi, Pagliaccio, sul tuo amore infranto!'- laugh, clown, at your broken love!

The whole idea of having to put away whatever earth shattering things are happening to you to please a crowd is so relevant to the band, and especially to the Danger Days era right? More than that, the idea that your personal tragedies are a spectacle that people will enjoy and pay to see, regardless of how tormenting they are for you, is something that comes up in a lot of MCR and MCR adjacent stuff- Gerard writing 'we're just bored you're still alive,' for example.

Anyway I love you MCR and I love you intertextuality

[steelycunt]

getting into a reading slump. NOOOOOOOO!

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

In the 5 am light (you carry my fears as the heavens set fire)

Ficlet for the (currently) winning result of this poll!

I was too excited to write this to wait any more, but fear not, if the other one wins, I'll write that one too!

Enjoy! <3

Lan Wangji wakes up at 5 am, as he has always done for the past thirty-something years of his life, a routine engrained within him like second nature. But, unlike these past thirty-something years, he does not wake up alone to an empty bed - instead, there is now somebody sharing the space with him, their warmth mingling with his own, their limbs entangled with his.

Lan Wangji blinks himself conscious at the realization, and turns towards the person that's now softly snoring beside him.

Wei Ying.

The blanket has ridden off his body, the skin of his back bathed into the warm, morning sun, and through the long, messy tresses of hair, Lan Wangji can see bitemarks littering the skin of his nape and the side of his throat.

Slowly, memories return to him, and he remembers how he found Wei Ying in that forest a night ago, playing an improvised flute to subdue Wen Ning during that night hunt... playing that song, their song, singing his identity right into Lan Wangji's ears, straight through his heart and the shattered hopes of ever seeing his beloved again.

How Lan Wangji played into his lunatic act and pretended not to recognize him so that the ill-intentioned would not attack him, and how he carried him all the way to the Cloud Recesses with his noisy donkey and his audacious flirting that threatened to rip right into Lan Wangji's self control.

And how, right before bedtime, Wei Ying climbed into his bed and... everything that came after.

Lan Wangji feels himself burn hot at the images playing in his mind, at the things he and Wei Ying have just done, hours and hours of passion they shared last night until they had no choice but to succumb to exhaustion. He had never even dreamed of ever getting to touch Wei Ying like that, to be with him in such an intimate way - especially not after the world had so cruelly rid of him.

But he did, and it was... divine, to put it mildly, the zenith of his existence, the moment he was finally able to show the extent of his love to the person he had been so ready and willing to die for all those years ago. He feels like he's dreaming almost, floating in-between worlds, and he finds himself leaning close to Wei Ying and leaving the ghost of a kiss on his parted lips.

And just like that, under the soft morning light and the first notes of songbird, Lan Wangji's peace shatters, replaced with a mix of panic and revulsion.

Not towards Wei Ying, no, never - towards himself.

What has he done?

Thinking over last night's events, he realizes with increasing horror, Wei Ying was in an obviously vulnerable position, so of course he had... of course he had to follow Lan Wangji and... and try to... thank him. Go along with what Lan Wangji wanted... because if he didn't, maybe he thought he'd get left for dead or...

Lan Wangji feels his inside shudder with disgust. Had he... no, no, Wei Ying would have... he wouldn't have... would he?

Lan Wangji doesn't know if he wants to cuddle up to Wei Ying and find comfort and reassurance that he's overthinking in his arms, or jump out of the bed and out the door, as far away as possible, having taken advantage of someone that couldn't have possibly said no...

But the decision is made for him when he feels a surprisingly strong arm wrap tightly around his shoulders, and Wei Ying bringing him closer as he mumbles something along the lines of "Lan Zhan... stay still..." before pressing himself to the other's skin and falling back asleep.

Lan Wangji stays like that, motionless, barely breathing, staring at the ceiling. Wei Ying is... still asleep. But he did wake up to some extent just now, so he knows who he's in bed with. He hasn't... reacted in any unpleasant way, which can either mean he did want this and Lan Wangji is being ridiculous, or he didn't want it but he made peace with it now that it happened.

Both options appear equally likely to Lan Wangji.

Next to him, Wei Ying sleeps soundly, every now and then nosing at his neck and leaving tiny whispers and barely there kisses in his sleep.

Lan Wangji decides that, if he is, in fact, a horrible monster, he might as well be a horrible monster to the end. So he allows himself the luxury of slowly kissing over Wei Ying's hair, face and lips, eyes a little misty at the thought that, perhaps, when Wei Ying wakes, he'll hate Lan Wangji for what he'd done and never allow him close again.

He doesn't realize, in his emotional turmoil, that Wei Ying has been woken up in a flurry of loving kisses - not until he finds a pair of lips molding against his own with purpose.

He breaks the kiss away abruptly, and Wei Ying whines at the loss. He's still sleepy, eyes droopy, and he's beautiful and a bit love drunk - but the world catches up to him as well, his eyes going wide seconds later.

Lan Wangji looks away and sits up, ready to face the consequences of his own actions.

Wei Ying's mind fast forwards through the past night's events, he lifts the blanket enough to realize he's so very naked, thoroughly marked and very sore all over - and he sits up as well, as if actioned by a spring.

"Lan Zhan!"

"Mn."

"Last night!"

"Mm."

"Did we-?!"

"Mhm."

Wei Ying stares at him, and Lan Zhan stares back - he's so red, bunching up the blankets to hide his body like some blushing maiden as his eyes dart between the bed, himself and Lan Zhan like he can't believe the implications.

Lan Zhan feels the world crash into him the more Wei Ying's shock grows. So he'd been right, Wei Ying hadn't really wanted to do all that with him, and now he can't believe it and regrets it, and Lan Zhan is a horrible-

Then Wei Ying begins laughing. He's laughing with joy and he's fallen back onto the bed with it, the sound so melodious that Lan Wangji wants to bottle it up and keep it for himself forever.

"I can't believe we actually did that! I thought it was a dream!"

Lan Wangji lays down as well, and is feeling more confused than ever.

"Wei Ying, don't you... regret it?"

"Regret?! Are you kidding?! That was amazing, I'd have to be an idiot to regret something like that!"

But then Wei Ying's giggles cut off instantly, and he turns to face Lan Zhan. "Wait. Do you regret it?"

Lan Zhan huffs, offended, at that. "How could I? I've been wanting to do this forever."

Wei Ying seems to have a life-changing realization for the second time that morning and it is only upon seeing his wide eyes that Lan Zhan realizes what he's just said.

He doesn't regret it or anything, he had just imagine he would be saying it in more... romantic circumstances.

Eh, might as well...

"Did you... mean that?" Wei Ying asks, inching closer towards Lan Zhan, looking equal parts thrilled and terrified.

"Yes."

Wei Ying lifts a hand to trail over the sharp contours of Lan Zhan's jawline, briefly touching the plush of his lips. "So then what we did last night wasn't... just for the hell of it."

"No."

He's finally close enough to feel Lan Zhan's body heat against his own and his heart beats into his chest with exhilaration, arousal and adrenaline. "So if I were to kiss you right now and ask to do it again, you'd say yes?"

"I would."

Wei Ying finally allows his hands to move down Lan Wangji's collarbones, his chest, and lower, lower... "And if I were to ask if you'd like us to be together like this forever, would you say yes to that too?"

A sharp breath, and Lan Zhan pulls him in, skin to skin, loving and lustful. "I would." And he leans to leave a bite below Wei Ying's ear, his own wandering hands reaching destination. "I do."

[wheezyseeker99]

✨Master List✨

Idk if this will work, but here’s all the one shots I’ve posted from oldest to newest.

Requests are open.

Cam York

To Be Alone With You (smut - 18+, MDNI)

Guilty as Sin (smut - 18+, MDNI)

Close To You (fluff, smut - 18+, MDNI)

I Can See You (smut - 18+, MDNI)

Too Sweet (smut - 18+, MDNI)

So it goes, gorgeous (smut - 18+, MDNI)

Cherry Wine {his pov} (smut - 18+, MDNI)

Jealous {his pov} (smut - 18+, MDNI)

Mine: Part 1 (smut - 18+, MDNI)

Mine: Part 2 - coming soon