#so the late night campfire was an Interesting Time

[possiblytracker]

me (only sober one in the conversation but tired out of my mind and equally lacking a filter): i thibk my.friends are mad at me

one of the five absolutely shitfaced 15-17 year old cousins also sitting round the campfire at the family gathering, taking it in turns to drink straight out a huge bottle of costco margarita mix where the adults are pretending not to see at 11pm on a sunday night: bruhhh have you tried going into the woods and hitting things with a big stick til you feel better

another absolutely shitfaced 15-17 year old cousin: i wish someone would hit ME with a big stick til I feel better :(

[milkzoro]

fuck around & find out

summary: y/n is curious to how aces devil fruit powers work

a/n: i wanted to do ace cuz first, uhmm that’s my man. and second!!! the vibes are sooo fall rn & i love the cold weather,,,, so enjoy <3

warnings: MDNI, pussy eating, backshots, cowgirl, soft!ace (i luv him)

☆彡

~

it’s the cold months on the ship that have you cravinggggg some warmth, whether that be from your heated blankets, your warm coffee in the mornings, or late night fires with the crew… you just loved the warmth, especially this time of year. the ocean was getting colder the more up north we sailed causing freezing mists to come up and hit the deck. you’ve been hanging around ace more often too, attracting to him like a moth to a lamp. while he was back on board, you took advantage of your friendly little flame~

you are laying together with ace all cuddled up and cozy in his bed, he has a campfire scented candle burning brightly in the corner of his room. admiring the man before you makes your tummy feel warm and nostalgic.

he has you so close, arms pressed side to side as you’re both laid against the pillows resting on the back of his headboard. one of his hands start to peak out of the blankets, he stretches his fingers before hyping you up, getting you ready for his next move. “mkay i call this,,,, wizard fingers.” you can never take him seriously, your cheeks are so sore from all the smiles he’s stolen from you. wizard fingers??? this can’t be real.

ace wiggles his fingers before you as you see each one of them ignite with small little flame. you giggle. “shouldn’t they be called lighter fingers? you literally look like you’re about to go burn a candle.” he groans next to you. “oh my god y/n. you didn’t let me finish!” you stare at his hands as he starts to manipulate each of the flames from his fingers.

he pulls four of them back into his fist leaving just his index finger ignited. the flame starts to form little letters. each flash was a letter from your name. flash. flash. flash. you smile even more, he’s such a dork.

“it’s pretty cool, i know.” he smirks “wasn’t like i was even practicing or anything.” you think he’s so full of himself but you can’t help but admire, he warms your heart. your cold hands are on his body as he still has you close. his powers are so interesting. all of this came from just eating a fruit? you can’t contain your thoughts as you think of all the possibilities, he’s so warm.

maybe it was the skin on skin that were feeding your delusions but you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of what he feels like.

he tucks his hands back away under the covers moving to hold your hands in his. you still haven’t answered him, your mind was still deep in the clouds. “okay maybe i was practicing,, getting it legible was kinda hard.” he laughed and you felt his chest move against your arm. “hmm?” you recollect your thoughts. ace looks at you. “were you for real not listening, y/n. that was cool! right!?” he looks at you to make sure you are finding this entertaining. “ahh sorry just not thinking right haha-” you mumbled and he looked puzzled, he shifted under the blankets to wrap his arms around you and pull you in a hug. his chin rested on the top of your head. “what do you mean.” his body burned hotter trying to warm you up.

“jus thinking about you- err well your devil fruit powers.” you curse yourself. but glad that you’re faced with his chest instead so that he couldn’t see the embarrassment on your face right now. he laughed at you again. “what’s so special y/n. i just get warm. ‘m happy you like it though.” his arms tighten around you, squeezing you softly. your tummy was doing flips again, the way he had a grip on you sent shivers to your core. the feeling of his firm, scorching arms had you craving more from him. you knew he was teasing you though. he always would, he knew how much you loved his fiery touch and playful behaviors.

you’re face to face with him again, seeing red flames in his eyes. heat spreads to your face as his eyes lock on yours, waiting for any reaction from you. you’re lips hesitate to speak. “you- you get warm… everywhere?” your eyes avoid his. his hand gripped your thighs right below your ass, softly tugging on you to get your leg wrapped around his torso. you feel his hot fingers brushing away the stray hairs that were messily covering your face. it burned hot. his face proved that he found your embarrassment amusing.

“wanna find out?”

~

ace kisses you softly. his hot hand reaching up the softness of your shirt and leading themselves to your perked nipple. his hands are so rough, much different than the way his lips feel. he kisses the side of your mouth and whispers softly to you, “you’re still so cold?” he giggles as he watches you squirm at his touch.

“ace, your portholes are open. it’s fucking cold in here.” you whine trying to keep his heated fingers on you. his amused grin has you needy and irritated. you reach for his hands again. “just a second babe, let’s get ya shirt off.” ace helps to fully undress you with sturdy hands. a shiver leaves your body, covering you in goose bumps as the cool sea breeze hits your skin. “i’ll getcha all warmed up baby.”

he takes his hands and starts massaging the creases of your hips. kneading and pulling on your plush skin, slowly working his tepid hands all the way up your torso. the heaviness in his touch relieved so much within you, moaning at his warmth and his strength. he is manhandling you with you such softness and love.

hot palms come up to cup under your breasts tenderly, dipping his head down and sucking against your pretty nubs. his tongue swirls around each one leaving a string of warm saliva connecting from your buds to his lips. “are we gettin there, pretty? how do you feel?” wanting more, you pull him so that his chest meets yours. he buries his face into your neck and softly suckles. his breaths are hot there. “m still cold ace, wanna feel you” you whine for him.

his lips curl into a smile against your skin, he knew exactly what you craved. “how do you want it angel?” his clothed thigh pushes against your needy cunt, collecting many fifty whines from you. his fire ignited something warm inside of you, you need it to burn brighter.

his body shuffles down the bed, inching his face to be face to face with your sleep shorts. ace wants your juices dripping down his face, seeing you twitch for him has him starving. impatiently, he removes your shorts and panties, tossing them to the floor. he takes your hands with his own while he plays with you devilishly with his tongue, squeezing your palms slightly when he feels you try to move away.

his tongue attached to you like a magnet, chasing every move, he wouldn’t let you get away. he squeezes your hands again, “that’s it baby, such a good girl.” his tongue drawing little clouds on your swollen clit. “doin so good, can’t get enough of ya y/n~” he gulps all of your juices, sucking you clean. “haah- fuck acee. mm so close.” the tip of his nose brushed against the point of your clit as he slid his lips to your weeping hole, drinking even more of you.

he flicks back and forth from your hole to your clit with his tongue. removing one of his hands from yours, he reaches for the plump of your thigh. he squeezed harshly, assuring you to cum for him. his tongue moved swiftly with your slick allowing you to reach your orgasm. “ace! ‘m cuh- cumming!! shiiit right there haa-“ the sight of his glistening face sent an aftershock to your cunt, his smirk was so sexy while he was covered with your juices.

ace’s cock ached in his boxers, there were little dark spots littered across the fabric from his precum. “can ya do one more for me baby doll?” whimpers leave your lips while your head slightly nodded for him. “you did so good fa me y/a~ now you ready to feel this dick cupcake?”

~

your pussy was already sopping for him but still there was a little resistance when he slid into you. ace moaned breathily at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him. “fuuu- shit y/n- feel so fuckin good mmmf~” his hot hands pushed down on your low back as your pussy was busy sucking around his cock.

your eyes watered at the shear width of him, he was spreading your sore cunt so deliciously. you felt your second orgasm start to form within your overstimulated core. he reached your cervix with one final slow push. once fully fitted around his length, you fucked back on him, slowly grinding your ass against his hard thighs.

ace tried to muffle his moans with his hand but you stripped them from him, he couldn’t be quiet. his deep moans echoed in his small cabin, ricocheting deep in your pulsating cunt. you throbbed for him, he curved upwards directly hitting your sensitive spot. ace gripped both sides of your ass to speed up his pace. pulling you hard against his reckless thrusts. he was getting sloppy. each thrust was met with the clapping of your cheeks on him, he groaned with each contact hit.

“wanna look atcha-“ he flipped you around to face him. you whined at the sudden emptiness but sighed as he soon filled you back up again. “don’t worry mama, wasn’t gonna take it from you.”

his voice was going blurry in your ears, dick so good you’re hearing auditory hallucinations. he took hold of your hips again while you sat on top of him, he rocks against you slowly.

you miss his mouth, his warmth~ wanna taste him again. your arms detach from his shoulders to hang loose around his neck, forehead rested against his while he fucks up into you. you’re ready, you wanna cum around him. pussy numb from feeling his tip abuse your cervix. “mm so close ace, please fuck me-” nonsense spilling from your lips, he is fucking you dumb.

your eyes are heavy as you try to line your lips up with his, drool sliding around both of your faces. he connects with you and sucks feverishly on your swollen lips. ace begins to pull you up and down on his veiny cock, bouncing you sporadically. the tightness in your eyes not helping you postpone your orgasm. “mmm ahh huhh- f-fuckk gonna- agh i’m cumming baby!!!!” the pleasure washes over you like a tsunami, it’s almost too much. your legs start to tremble as you effortlessly squeeze and clench around his width. “fuck cum in me ace- warm me up~” your wall’s are contracting around his poor, twitching cock while you milk him~ his breaths were shaky and irregular as he chased his own release.

“y/nnn-“ his husky voice filled your ears as you saw him cum inside of you. hips shuttering as his orgasm strikes him. pretty black hair sticking to the beads of sweat stuck to his forehead, his eyes tightened as he grunted out your name a few more times. glistening before you, he looked so ethereal..

~

* we are cuddling and warm and soo in luv !!! *

[zombiecheri]

A Girl And A Samurai

pairing: mizu x fem!reader

tags: slight dubcon?, reader is drunk, mizu is a bit tipsy, thigh riding, fingering, mizu does a knee thing, grinding, neck kisses, neck bites, teasing, fluff

A/N: here's the second part finally! It's nsfw as you can tell from the tags so 18+ please. Hope you enjoy. It will have one more chapter after this.

chapter 1

Chapter 2

On the fifth day you both found a small inn and decided to stay overnight instead of spending yet another night shivering out in the woods by the small campfire. You told her you'd cover the cost and mizu nodded, leaving you standing in the middle of an inn as she sat down on an empty spot ordering soba and glancing in your direction with a questioning look. You shook your head and went up the stairs to your shared room not feeling hungry.

That's how you ended up sitting on a tatami with a bottle of sake in front of you as you took sips from the cup trying to run away from your own thoughts.

From that day where you got to know her name, you two got closer and the more you got to know her more your mind started drifting away noticing small details about her that made your head heavy with thoughts and heart full of feelings that you were scared to address.

The way her eyes softened whenever she shared memories about her swordfather, bits and pieces from her childhood, her deep, raspy voice that send chills down your spine and how surprisingly kind she was despite her somewhat fearsome appearance.

And those lips, that slight curve at the edge of her mouth and mirth in her ocean eyes whenever you shared some silly memory from your past made you go weak in the knees, made your face red and left you a stuttering mess.

So you drank. Downed a cup and then another and another to forget it. Forget the feelings that weren't supposed to be there. Drowning in sake until you couldn't think at all.

She found you like that after she returned in the room with nearly half the bottle empty and you sitting on the bed not meeting her eyes choosing to look down at the floor instead.

Mizu wasn't a fool, she noticed the way you were looking at her, noticed how easily you got flustered everytime she smiled at you and despite herself she grew interested. Intrigued at the possibility of what lay underneath that kind appearance and charming smile. You were somewhat of a puzzle and she realized she wanted to solve it, to understand you better. As easy as it was to fluster you, you carried yourself with such dignity she hadn't seen in other women before. At least not in women of your status. It was mindless, carrying yourself in such manner in a place like this where any men could easily take advantage of you at any given moment but even despite that, she was curious.

She decided to push your buttons a little bit to sate that curiosity. Or maybe she was just bored. Either way, there wasn't much to do on a road so she'd try to pass time to see how much she could tease you and it seemed that you've finally reached your limit at last.

"Where did you get that bottle?" Her ocean eyes narrowed at the half empty bottle before settling on your form, eyebrow raising in question.

Mizu's words shook you out of your trance and you finally looked at her, eyes following her as she sat down on a chair in front of you.

"I had it with me" your voice was surprisingly steady considering how much you've drank but fortunately, or not in your case, you could handle the alcohol quite well so it didn't manage to get you as drunk as you'd hoped. More like, she interrupted you before you could do it.

Your plans to drown your feelings with alcohol didn't work out. She was right in front of you and there was nowhere to run - from your thoughts or from her. Not that you hoped you could outrun her at all. Nowhere to go, nowhere else to stay. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to drink on the road but it was too late to dwell on that, you supposed.

You let out a sigh and tried to stand up and stumbled the world spinning around but before you could fall mizu's hands were on you firmly holding you in place.

Perhaps you did manage to get drunk after all, you wondered as the world continued to dance and spin and twirl. You felt like you were spinning along with it.

You didn't want to look up, you couldn't, but she didn't let go and curiosity won so you peaked a glance behind your lashes and instantly regretted it.

Mizu was looking down at you with that familiar curve at the edge of her mouth and amused glint in her icy blue eyes and you understood in that moment why she hid them behind the tinted glasses all the time (besides hiding her obvious mixed heritage). Her eyes were so expressive and you were going to drown in them.

No, you were already drowning. You couldn't breathe, couldn't blink as the world continued twisting and her face was so close.

When did she get so close?

Her breath smelled faintly of alcohol and it seemed you weren't the only one who was drinking. Maybe, some distant parts of your mind wondered, she was also running away from something. Or someone.

Ah, your thoughts were wandering off again and her face was getting blurry. You blinked and let out a breath you were holding in, then you leaned forward. Mizu's eyes were so pretty you could get lost in them forever. Her eyes widened a bit and the hand holding you, let go. You didn't like it so did something unthinkable, something that if you were sober you'd probably have regretted doing.

You reached for her. Your fingers traced the soft skin of her cheek, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin. You saw her eyes narrowing in suspicion? Or something else, you couldn't tell at the moment.

"what are you do-"

Before she could finish the sentence your lips were on hers, soft and warm against her rough mouth. And it seemed that world finally stopped spinning.

Kiss didn't even last few seconds before she was pulling away - from your soft mouth, your wandering hands and from you.

Regret suddenly crashed into you like a wave, settling uncomfortably in your stomach and you tried to think of something to make her stay, to not turn her back on you and leave you in this inn. Would one kiss make her run away? Probably not, but you couldn't face the shame and embarrassment of that, couldn't face her after she rejected your advances so blatantly. What could you say to make you feel less like a mess? Sorry I thought you wanted to kiss me? Sorry, I misunderstood the situation? Sorry, I was drunk?

stupid girl

You couldn't even look at her but before your drunken mind could come up with an explanation her hand was on your wrist. Mizu's warm fingers were holding you tightly and suddenly you were the one pulling away. You didn't understand.

You didn't..

And in the next moment, she was pulling you closer, into her arms, into her warmth, her lips against yours and time seemed to stop at once.

Your pulse panicked, stuttering to a halt and tried and tried to start again. Heart was beating against your ribcage with such ferocity your mind felt dazed.

While your kiss was soft and tender, a slight touch of lips, a whisper - hers was bruising, demanding, almost as if she tried to devour you. It was not a warm kiss. It was all-consuming. A warm breeze against a ranging storm if you were to compare.

Mizu swallowed your gasp and the next one and licked her tongue inside your mouth that sent a pulse through you forming a knot in the lower part of your stomach.

You got lost in the taste of her, her smell and the feel of her hand on your waist. She made a sound then, not a gasp but not a groan either, mix of a two perhaps and that noise did something. You chanted her name against her lips as you tangled your hands in mizu's kimono trying to steady yourself on your shaky legs, pulling her closer and closer until there was not a space left between you, until you were molded together like a statue and you felt like you were being pulled underwater and searing up high in the sky all at once.

You weren't unfamiliar with the heat and lust and your hands between your legs easing that tension, that burning need, reaching the high and left shaking and satisfied afterwards, but you had never experienced it to the extreme, to this extent, to the point where you couldn't breathe.

You remembered then. To breathe.

You pulled away and took a deep breath to dive right back in, kissing back just as hard, hands clutching the kimono so tightly as if she'd disappear if you let go. You didn't know what it was to be kissed like that.

Mizu was spinning you around then, your back against her front, her knee coming up between your legs and making you gasp. Her hands were traveling up your body, warm fingers tracing the patterns on your kimono before sliding inside and finding your breasts.

You let out another gasp, legs shaky as her fingers brushed against your hardened nipples, her knee keeping you steady and suddenly Mizu was turning you around again taking few steps back dropping down on the chair and pulling you down, on her.

Your legs parted, your kimono loose and you sat on her thigh as she continued to devour your mouth in a franzy and then moved lower. To your cheekbones, to your neck. Found a pulse point there and bit down and you let out a choked moan head falling limply against her shoulder.

She smiled against your skin and shifted her leg the motion making her thigh brush against the spot that got your head spinning. You suddenly felt shy. Your head buried in her shoulder hiding your flaming cheeks and muffling your gasps and moans.

"you okay there?" Mizu chuckled, but she wasn't as unaffected as she tried to seem. Even in your drunken state you could hear the slight edge to her raspy voice, feel the light tremble of her long, slender fingers wandering on your body freely.

The voice did something to you still, lightening up whatever nerve center controlled your body and not your mind and heat pooled between your legs and became nearly unbearable so you grinded down hard on her thigh and felt her wandering hands against your waist coming to a halt.

You didn't feel shy anymore. You felt starved, desperate. You wanted more.

you needed more

She let out a startled sound and you swallowed it and then another and suddenly roles were reversed. You were the one reaching for her, hands roaming on her body, sliding under her loose kimono feeling the bindings wrapped around her chest. You continued grinding down and the tension raised. Your mouth found hers again locking in a hungry kiss battling for dominance as her frozen hands finally slid down your body, her fingers brushing against your bare thighs and stopping there. Teasing.

"Mizu" you let out a desperate huff, meeting her eyes and she laughed, her knee raising intentionally to brush against your damp spot not quite enough to sate the lust but enough to make you crave more.

Your lips found her neck and you were biting down hard making her laugh get stuck in the throat until it turned into a strangled moan as you sucked and licked, her hand gripping your waist almost painfully, but you didn't really mind. If anything, it made you crave her more.

Mizu stopped teasing you then, her fingers running up and up on your thigh until they found the dampness, pushing the fabric away and sliding inside your heat without warning.

"fucking brat" she sighed in your ear and the world was starting to shift and crack again as she continued pumping her trembling fingers.

in and out, in and out

In a steady rhythm, sliding as deep inside as she could reach before pulling them almost completely out of you, occasionally rubbing against your clit and the tightness was growing and you were going to..

you were going to-

Her voice, her smell, her breath against your skin, her words. You were overwhelmed, your head was spinning, your eyes were losing focus. Something about the way she said it, something about that tone, that deep and raspy sound...

Then you were spiralling.

Your body jerked and you grabbed her for support as the feeling wracked through you, hands trembling, your eyes closing shut orgasm overtaking you sending almost painful waves of pleasure like shockwaves throughout your body. You clamped down hard against her fingers and she slid them out completely after your body stopped spasming.

"Fuck" you murmured against her neck but it didn't quite cover it.

"Fuck" she agreed and adjusted her kimono.

Your world shifted into focus after your trembling eased a bit and you noticed how your wetness left a damp spot on her thigh wondering if she had another kimono to wear. You were watching her as she tied her hair and wondering when it got untangled before your gaze settled on her face. On her eyes.

"let me return the favor" you whispered, your hands already reaching for mizu before she stopped you and shook her head. She did something then that made your cheeks aflame.

Mizu brought the fingers covered in your release to her face inspecting them, giving it an experimental lick before she put them in her mouth tasting you as her gaze never left yours while doing it. Her blue eyes were twinkling with mischief that familiar smirk in place.

Oh.

Where did she learn to do that? You wondered, your cheeks hot.

"maybe another time, yeah?" she smiled and you nodded your head planting a shy kiss at the edge of her mouth before you were sliding away from her lap, adjusting your own kimono.

another time

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Exes SUCK !! ´ˎ˗

Percy Jackson x fem!reader Synopsis: When reader found out her loser ex cheated on her, she always has her best friend to step up ! Word Count: 1018

Every night at camp half-blood, there's a campfire at 9pm where all the campers come together while the Apollo kids lead a bunch of sing-a-longs. You normally loved these, but tonight wasn't your night. About a week ago, you and your shitty ex had broken up when you found out he was cheating with some Aphrodite kid. Sure it hurt being cheated on but after months of being treated the way you were, you were just glad to finally get rid of him.

As glad as you were, now you were just kind of lonely, his toxicity drove away your friends. Even your best friend, Percy. Now, you were sitting alone by the campfire as the rest of the campers were staggering back to their cabins. While you were enjoying the warmth of the fire, you notice a familiar figure coming to take a seat next to you.

"Hey Y/N"

"Hey Percy"

Neither of you looked at each other for a few moments, still staring the fire. The silence was unbearable, you felt terrible about what happened. You never wanted to push him away, you thought you were being loved when you were just being used. Growing up as a demigod sucks when your mortal parent doesn't care for you because you are just so different from the rest of your family, constantly ignoring you hoping you would go away. Plus of course none of the gods ever really pay attention to their kids. All that gave you issues, you never felt enough. So when your ex first came into your life making you feel wanted, you jumped at it not realizing that that wasn't love.

"So.. I've heard about you and.. you know who" Percy never liked him from the start. You really wish you listened to him.

"Yeah, he who shall not be named" you chuckled as Percy turned and smiled. "I wish I listened to you about him, would've saved me so much time you know."

"Hate to say I told you so but, I told you so" he said as you jokingly glared at him.

"Haha. But really, I'm sorry for everything that happened" you said.

"You don't have to apologize" he looked at you sincerely.

"No, I do. I pushed you away all for a jerk who didn't deserve my time, and you didn't deserve that" you turned to him with a look of sadness on your face. You hated that you did that to him.

He turns to face you and grabs your cheeks making your foreheads touch to make extreme eye contact. "Y/N, it's okay, you don't have to say sorry again. You know I can't stay mad at you anyways." As you guys separated, a wash of relief floods your face as you feel your shoulders drop with satisfaction.

"I'm glad." Percy lets go of your cheeks and faces back to the camp fire. You take the opportunity and slide closer next to him, now shoulder to shoulder. You continue to lean in and he takes the chance to slide his arms over your shoulders, happy with himself when he sees that you didn't pull away, but snuggled closer. You guys were always very close together like this before you were forced to separate from him. At the end of the day, no one blames your ex for being jealous of Percy. You guys stay there for a view moments enjoying the toasty fire when you decide to finally speak up.

"I missed you, like, a lot" you whispered loud enough for the both of you to hear.

"I missed you, too Y/N" as Percy said that he held you tighter.

"You know the phrase 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'," you rambled "..yeah." You didn't know how to continue that thought out loud, it sounded less cheesy in your head but you meant what you said. Whatever it was that you said. If you were being honest with yourself, you wish it was Percy who first showed interest in you instead of.. the other guy.. but you fear it may be too late for that. While you were deep in thought, Percy was just giggling at your failed sentence.

"You sound like you have a little crush on mee" Percy dragged out the last word. Weirdly enough, he wasn't wrong, but that was also how you guys also joked. So you never thought he was serious when he said this stuff.

"Why do you think I got forced to distance from youu" you matched Percy by dragging out the last word.

"Wait, what" Percy questioned, looking down at you and you turned up and looked at him through your lashes. Percy always thought you were beautiful, so you getting a shitty boyfriend sucked for him, but he tried to push through for you. Then when he forced you and Percy to stop talking, that hurt, but he could never hate you.

"I guess it was pretty obvious how much I like you, even to my own boyfriend. Funny isn't it. I thought since you didn't like me back it was time to try moving on, it didn't work out though" you got quiet as you finished your sentence. Then Percy stared at you wide eyed with with mouth gaped open.

"Is it too soon to finally kiss you" Percy said, grateful he didn't stammer his sentence out of nerves. That's when you quickly sat up, grabbed his face and slammed it on yours. It was amazing, between the tension that was constantly building up mixed with the relaxing sound of the crackling fire behind you, it was perfect. You guys were moving together in rhythm before you pulled apart remembering your need for air. As you guys were panting for air you looked at each other and smiled, then you spoke up.

"Why was I wasting my time before" you joked.

"Your decisions making skills were never the best, that's why I'm here for you, always" Percy kissed your forehead as you both began to stand up and walk hand in hand back to your cabins.

[miyosei]

I LOVE YOU, HOW SWEET.

premise. epiphanies that come in bursts. ( or, what it’s like when he is starts to fall in love ) — ft. albedo, heizou, kazuha, thoma, tighnari

reader is gender neutral, no warnings everything is just nice and sweet, written in lowercase

ALBEDO. kreideprinz

albedo falls in love like a campfire at night — fitting for the chief alchemist's solitary camp set outside of mondstadt, situated only in the shallowest caves of dragonspine. it melts like the frozen rivers that hug the shore and thaws at the frozen edges of the heart he never had when klee comes running in excitedly cheering about how much fun she had while in your care.

things feel warmer when you're around. the way his name sounds at the ends of your lips, the feeling of your hand against his own, the way he can't help the fond smile from overtaking his face when you lose your mind to sleep at the fireplace. the winter storm rages just outside the cluttered space albedo calls his camp, and it is only you and him when you lean against him in your slumber.

and when you smile up at him embarrassed after waking, sleepy eyes and his signature coat wrapped around your shoulders to prevent you from becoming too cold in the night — albedo swears that something within the emptiness of his chest cavity skips a beat. warm and soft and blooming straight from where his heart should have resided and right out for the whole world to see.

"won't you get cold?" you ask, offering to share the large article of clothing with him. it's rather big, after all. surely the two of you would both fit under it without any problems.

in any other case, albedo would have denied that possibility. as a homunculus he takes only the temperatures of his surroundings — albedo does not feel them himself. but when the flames inside his chest burn their last logs, you make your return to the city without him. and for the first time in his life, the ever so intelligent chief alchemist can't explain the dimming warmth.

SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. analytical harmony

heizou falls in love like diving into the ocean. in fact, it's safe to say that he doesn't fall in love, because from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, he knew that you were the one. you, who rushed through the open doors of the tenyrou commission with flying paperwork in your hands and a uniform that was just slightly out of place around your shoulders — untied laces and a hat one size too big. you were late on your first day. how unprofessional, how sporadic, how interesting.

you barge into his life like a criminal on the run, and heizou decides right then that there could be nobody else but you. the look on his face when you're announced to be his new partner is priceless, one that no one will ever let him live down. and heizou is almost completely okay with that.

because there isn't anyone in the world he would rather ask for to accompany him, dragging you by the hand as the wind tussles your clothing and faint shouts of your names call from behind you. heizou's laughter fills the air and he does nothing but smile when you express your concerns.

the edge of the cliff soon approaches, crashing waves sound against the open air. with nowhere else to go, he turns to you with sparkling eyes and a grin that spells nothing but trouble and a plan that you're more than certain he hasn't thought through. but shikanoin heizou is unpredictable and a master at surprises, and shikanoin heizou does just that.

he pushes himself just over the edge, falling backwards with your hands held tightly in his own — throwing everything behind with the wind as it whips around him, free falling thousands of meters approaching the ocean depths. and for the first time in his life, heizou finally allows his guard down, wrapping his arms around you and breaking the surface.

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA. scarlet leaves pursue wild waves

kazuha is like a star at sea. a supernova waiting to happen he is fused together with flammable elements light years away reaching out to you with open arms, burning through the hydrogen fuel until the pressure collapses in on itself like a falling platform.

and if kaedehara kazuha is a star, then you are the night sky that envelops him whole — swallowing his light for as long as he can remember. you have been in his life for more years than not, and he cannot possibly imagine a life without.

stars live for millions of years, but humans only have a fraction of that time to share. and kazuha wastes none of it — he trails by your side like a lost puppy, recites to you poems with a love you only hear in your dreams. he traces the constellations in the night sky and guides your hand to follow the connecting lights.

there isn't a moment in time where he isn't utterly and hopelessly in love. the days seem brighter, the storms become more bearable, the past becomes written down on pages of memories ready to be released into the sky.

when the festival comes around, it's like he's meeting you for the first time all over again. quietly watching you under the lights and and full of thoughts he always wanted to say to you but could never voice them out loud. the supernova in his heart explodes into the universe, a confession worth a thousand words falls unheard under the booms of the golden fireworks — but the expression on his face alone is enough to tell you what he means.

THOMA. protector from afar

thoma's love blossoms like the promise of sakura blooms in early spring, as natural as the passing of seasons. it's almost like nothing changed, falling into routine so long ago that it's normal to wake up and see him making breakfast in the kitchen. it's normal to fall asleep on the cough together, held closely against his chest under the warm blanket. it's normal to hold hands at every given opportunity.

'yeah, we're on a date,' you jokingly say to a friend while passing by a festival stalls. with a grin, you spare a glance at thoma, ready to give him a cheeky, 'aren't we?' in further jest — stopping only when you see the soft look in his warm eyes.

he is inazuma's fixer, there's no problem in the world he can't take care of. but when you say those words so unashamed and so naturally, oh — this is one problem he doesn’t think he can fix.

winter comes to an end, and the flowers in his heart have since begun to bloom at an exponential rate — hyperaware of every lingering touch, every offhand comment, every time you hold him close and joke about how a life without him is a life not worth living at all.

and when you're surrounded by splashes of pink and falling petals like this — laughing beside him without a care in the world, thoma thinks he couldn't ever imagine a life without you either.

TIGHNARI. verdant strider

tighnari falls in love like prolonged silence. his mind is a puzzle, caught in a perpetual state of concentration; high on alert at all times — because when you live with a handful of reckless forest rangers, being anything less than his best is something he cannot afford to be. the tension is enough to make his head spin and chest tight, but he pushes away the uncomfortable weight in favor of his own research.

both in and outside the akademiya, people have put him atop their pedestal and declare him a genius above the rest, begging for his appearances like a trophy on display. but when he stumbles through the door of your shared hut with stray sticks in his hair and dirt on his clothes, falling into you exhausted beyond what you can only imagine, he is just tighnari — nothing more and nothing less.

he won't get attached, he swears to his heart that if it isn't related to his focus on the forest that he will not get involved. but your studies have surprisingly brought a new light into lessening the effects of the withering, and you aren't totally incapable at holding your own ( unlike those incompetent traveling merchants ), and collei seems to be in a brighter mood now that you're around.

tighnari's mind is like a puzzle, always connecting new pieces, picking apart every detail the world has to offer and never stopping the trajectory of his research for even a second.

but you find your way into his heart like a seedling deeply rooted into the soil, his feelings grow with time and with no time at all. through quiet research or conversations the span hours on end, tighnari makes no attempt to pull you out of his life — and you settle into the garden of his chest. tighnari watches through the doorway your figure slumped over and asleep on your desk, papers scattered across the wooden table and pen rolling away from your fingers, and he thinks maybe you aren't so bad to be around.

something sweet i did way long ago … iykyk

[strrwbrrryjam]

susan grimshaw is a fascinating character to me because she is a character that is very much shaped by the period that she is living in and by her experiences

she lives in a time when women had minimal rights, with restrictions on voting, property ownership and education, and she is very much aware of that. it's shaped her as a person, carrying herself with a sense of practicality and strength, mindful of the challenges women would often face in the late 1800s

her experiences have installed her with a keen sense of self-preservation and resourcefulness, traits that are crucial for survival when your freedom and agency are heavily restricted by society, as well as when you're often on the run from the law

she is a formidable figure, who, despite living in a world surrounded by powerful men, is very much able to hold her own

however, while her period experiences have shaped her to be a strong figure, they also heavily influence how she treats the women in the gang

you see susan treats the woman in the gang with the approach of tough love, with emphasis on the "tough", sprinkled with a heavy amount of internalized misogyny

because while it's clear to me that she does in fact love the girls in the gang, particularly marybeth, karen and tilly. through her immediately jumping into action when she discovers that tilly was kidnapped, to those calm moments where the alcohol is consumed, the night is still and they're basking in the glow of the campfire, they spend their time singing and just talking as people do, there are instances where the love she has for them is clear

(she does have interactions with abigail and of course, molly but there aren't many, i don't think she interacts with sadie at all except when sadie first enters the gang. the only time i remember her interacting with abigail and molly is when she orders abigail to go back to sex work and when she tragically, wrongfully murders molly)

you see instead of uplifting the women to be strong and independent, which i would expect her to do, she instead upholds those traditions and gender roles that she has had experience with - believing that she women should be the homemakers and caretakers, ready to serve men whether by cooking, cleaning or with their body

she upholds the patriarchal norm that was very prevalent in the 1800s (and that still very much exists today) that women should prioritise a man's needs and desires above their own and she enforces this harshly, whether through harsh words or corporal punishment

it is so deeply ingrained within her, that if a woman deviates from this path, by not accepting traditional gender roles and for example, mary gillis, she judges and criticizes them for not doing so, shaming them for having ideas "above her station"

this makes her incredibly interesting to me because you think that an older woman who has lived in such tumultuous times and endured various hardships might challenge societal norms and empower other women, but she doesn't, she instead adheres to these traditional gender roles and instructs that other woman should do so too

i speculate this is born out of survival, that she has had experiences where she attempted to step out and often found herself facing extreme backlash and danger. finding that challenging the patriarchal norm was not only incredibly risky but ultimately futile, so she chooses to prioritize survival over resistance, even if it means sacrificing her own ideals and upholding a harmful ideology and works to ingrain this into the women, teaching them, in her own, harsh way, how to survive

in essence, susan grimshaw is the story of a woman who embodies the struggles of a woman learning to survive a world where everything was against her and instead of fighting against the norms, rather than challenging these norms, she becomes an enforcer of traditional gender roles, ensuring that other women adhere to these expectations

[leighsartworks216]

Somethin' Stupid (Songfic)

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Requested by Cat103005 on ao3:

“I was wondering if you could do a fic based on the song Somethin' Stupid by Frank Sinatra. The song has been giving me major brain worms recently and it's just such a soft song that I can't stop thinking about Astarion when I listen to it.”

THIS IS ONE OF MY FAV SONGS!!! I literally have it in so many character playlists and I just love it so damn much. It's not the plot I went with here, but I like to imagine a bard Tav singing it at a tavern and Astarion slowly realizing they're singing about him 🥺

The lyrics are in italics, but if they're hard to separate from the regular text let me know and I can bold them or put up dash barriers ✌️

Warnings: alcohol, referenced alcohol consumption, mentions of manipulation, slight hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,442

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

I know I stand in line

Until you think you have the time

To spend an evening with me

And if we go someplace to dance

I know that there’s a chance

You won’t be leaving with me

Astarion watched with keen interest as you twirled around the campfire, hand-in-hand with a tiefling. Your cheeks were flushed, from alcohol or merriment, he couldn’t tell. You laughed and spun and twirled and reveled in your victory.

He would have to make a move at some point before the day is out. You usually went around to greet everyone or say goodnight; he’d just have to wait until then. While he waited, nursing a disgusting bottle of cheap wine (if it could even be called wine), he thought up lines that always worked on the others he’d lured in before.

That was the easy part. Now he just needed you to fall for them.

Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place

And have a drink or two

And then I go and spoil it all

By saying somethin’ stupid like, “I love you”

I can see it in your eyes

That you despite the same old lies

You heard the night before

And though it’s just a line to you

For me it’s true

And never seemed to right before

Your pupils dilated, your smile stretched wide, your heart still beat quickly in your chest. With each flattering remark past his lips, you only seemed to glow more. “You’re sweet,” you said, “and sillier than I thought.”

He grinned, sly and seductive. “I can go on all night with the flattery,” he promised, “but is that really all you want? How about if I said these little words… Everyone’s favorite…”

He paused, and his mind raced within the second of time. A flood of feelings within his chest, thick and uncertain. A horde of questions asking why saying it this time felt worse than it used to. But once the second ticked away, so did the thoughts.

“I love you.”

Your smile dulled ever so slightly. Your eyes softened, but not with affection. He couldn’t place exactly how they looked at him. You were still enjoying yourself, he knew that much, but something had changed.

“Having fun, are you?”

He laughed, unexpected even to himself. “I am, it’s hard not to with you.” He cleared his throat. “Now, as much as I relish standing around and saying all my favorite lines at you, I’d much rather we got to experience each others’ full portfolio of talents once again.”

You giggle softly at his phrasing. Even in the dull light he can see you flush; practically feel the heat radiating off your body. But you shake your head. “I’m sure we will get another chance soon. But…” You offer him a sweet smile. “Not right now.”

“I look forward to the day.” He smiles back, surprised to find he finds he actually believes it. “Meanwhile, my hunger for you will only deepen.”

-

I practice every day

To find some clever lines to say

To make the meaning come through

But then I think I’ll wait

Until the evening gets late

And I’m alone with you

Of everything Astarion could have possibly anticipated on this journey, he never thought… Well, he never believed he could ever fall in love. It was a rough tumble, like he’d been shoved down a steep hill, rolling all the way down to the bottom, but he’d fallen, nonetheless. And for you, of all people.

It was a little embarrassing. He’d put in all this effort to have you fall for him, so you’d never turn around and stab him in the back. And here he was, staring longingly across the camp as you played with Scratch, tossing his ball and cooing and praising every time he brought it back. It was silly. He felt like a complete and utter fool. But… he didn’t mind it. At least, not as much as he thought he would.

Instead of searching across a dingy bar for another victim to lure back and give his body to, he watched as you so unknowingly, and yet so gently, cradled his soul within your hands. Whatever he has left of a soul, anyway.

Scratch fetched the ball, but trotted around you and over to Halsin, where he plopped into the druid’s lap and settled in for the night. You had a stupid, beaming smile on your face. And then you turned and saw him, and your smile got impossibly wider. If he had a heart, it would have burst. You lightly jogged over until you stood right in front of him.

The time is right, your perfume fills my head

The stars get red, and, oh, the night’s so blue

And then I go and spoil it all

By saying somethin’ stupid like, “I love you”

“Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk.”

Your face falls instantly into a concerned frown. He misses your smile already. “Are you alright?”

He huffs a weak laugh. “Oh, yes, I’m fine! I just…” He frowns, unable to keep up the charade. “Feel awful. Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan - seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy… Instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it… And all I had to do was not fall for you… Which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart.” He studies your face, searching for rejection. He wouldn’t blame you. But you just look at him with such open, welcoming eyes, worried and attentive. “You… You’re incredible. You deserve something real… I want us to be something real.”

You offer him a smile, but your brow is still tight with worry. “So do I,” you assure him. “More than anything.”

He grimaces. He wishes things were that easy. “I just don’t know what ‘real’ looks like. Not after two hundred years of playing the rake.” He sighs. It’s hard to pour his heart out like this, to admit to so much and hope you won’t run away. He still half-expects you to turn and book it. But you don’t. So he takes a breath and tries to push through the building anxiety. “Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how else to be with someone.” He frowns ruefully. “No matter how much I’d like to.”

Your face softens further. The crease between your brows eases as you carefully take a step forward. “I care about you deeply.”

“Really?”

You nod, but then you step even closer. He doesn’t know how to react, doesn’t even know what you’re doing, until your arms are wrapped around his waist and your head rests on his shoulder. It’s… different, than all the other times he’s been physically intimate with somebody. You don’t grab on like a leech, prepared to suck him dry of his autonomy. No, he knows if he pulled back even slightly, you’d let go. But he doesn’t want you to.

His hands twitched, held out awkwardly from when you stepped forward. And then he lowered them slowly to your back. You were warm. He pressed lightly against your spine, drawing you even closer to him. He leaned forward and pressed his nose against your shoulder, eyes closing almost instinctively. You smelled of campfire smoke and lye soap. It was the best thing he’d smelled in years, because it was you.

After a moment, certainly not long enough, you stepped back. You worried you’d pressed his boundaries too far after his confession, but he only wrapped you up tighter in his arms, pressing his face more insistently against you. He only relaxed again when your hands returned to his lower back, just below his scars. Your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of his shirt, securing yourself there with him.

“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he admits, a mere whisper by your ear. “But I know that this…” He sighs, content, the happiest he has been for centuries. “This is nice.”

The time is right, your perfume fills me head

The stars get red, and, oh, the night’s so blue

And then I go and spoil it all

By saying somethin’ stupid like, “I love you”

“I love you”

“I love you”

“I love you”

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueen_cosplay @yarn_yogi @tototini @teardropcup @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash

[spookychick78]

Halloween Night W/ The Slashers 🎃🔪

Happy Halloween and to all a good fright🎃🔪

Jason Voorhees:

Wholesome to the max. He'd get all the blankets out, make sure the decorations were all lit and cozy up with you to watch your favorite scary movie(s). If you're into the scarier ones, be prepared for him to be hiding his face in the crook of your neck (he's sensitive). If you're spending Halloween in his neck of the woods, a campfire is definitely on the schedule. Did I mention he makes the best s'mores?

With your head on his shoulder and the soft sound of embers crackling in the orange glow of the fire he'd just finished building, you let out a contented sigh. The autumn air blew chilly and cold around you, but between the warmth of flames and his body, you were perfectly tranquil. The couple of pumpkins you'd carved earlier that day had a pleasant glow of their own in their spot beside you both. Jason leant forward, gently so he wouldn't disrupt the comfort of you perched on him and stuck a marshmallow into the fire. You started to giggle, because it didn't take long for it to burst into flames and he responded by shaking the stick.

"Planning on burning the camp down?" You teased as you listened to his breath whistle through the holes of his mask in an attempt to blow it out.

Finally, he managed to extinguish it and pulled it back for the two of you to inspect. It was crispy, burnt and blackened, his shoulders slumped as he twirled the stick around to study it. You lifted your head and tentatively tapped it. Once you'd decided it was cool enough to touch, you plucked it from the end of the stick and reached for some Graham crackers.

"Don't worry," you said with a grin as you took note of his befuddlement, "I prefer them well done anyways."

You smushed it between the two pieces and took a quick bite, all the while very aware of his admiring gaze. You were always so kind, something he wasn't used to in the slightest and in his opinion, that kept him warmer than the fire in front of you. He let you finish chewing, intent on letting you finish the entirety of it, but he simply couldn't wait any longer to scoop you up. As he did so, you dropped the little sandwich and let out a startled yelp, which soon turned to giggles. You couldn't see it, but he was beaming at the sound underneath his mask.

"But the fire-" you started, but he'd already pushed the door to your cabin open and set you down with a finger over your mouth to shush you.

You grinned as he bent down and lifted the edge of his mask up to replace the finger over your lips with his own. His arms snaked around your waist and he lifted you up again, pressed closer to him this time. It would fine, you thought to yourself as he carried you over to the bed, it would burn out eventually. Being wrapped up in him kept you warmer than any fire could anyhow.

Ghostface(reader's choice):

Halloween with him is definitely interesting. He's not letting you get out of any tricks, that's for sure.

You paced back and forth between the four walls of your bedroom, occasionally allowing a glance out the window to the dimly lit street. Where was he? You thought to yourself. He was always late, without fail and you'd have been lying if you said it didn't get to you sometimes. Finally, you plopped down and let your gaze linger on the pumpkin that sat on your desk, uncarved. You promised him you'd wait for him to start it, but it was nearly nine and Halloween was coming to a close. You thought it was a fair punishment for being kept wondering for so long, so you placed it on the ground and grabbed the tools from your drawer. Before you'd even had a chance to cut into the top, your phone rang. For most, the words 'unknown caller' would have been an easy ignore, but you knew better. You pressed the button and before you could speak-

“Ever heard the term ‘patience is a virtue’?”

You rolled your eyes, "You're late."

"Fashionably," he replied coolly, "you love the mystery, don't lie."

"I'd love to not be alone on Halloween," you said flatly as you rested the phone between your ear and shoulder to start on the pumpkin with irritated force.

"Who said you were alone?"

Just then, you heard the door creak behind you. You let the phone drop to the floor and turned to peer into the shadows. You didn't remember turning off all the lights, but the hallway behind the door was pitch black, save the barely visible pale face observing you in silence. Once he'd decided you'd discovered him, he stepped forward, his black robe dragging on the floor behind him. You couldn't stop a smirk from pulling at your lips as you watched him tilt his head at you, his mask almost made it seem he was mocking you.

He lifted the voice modulator to the front of his mouth, momentarily distracting from the glint of the knife at his side, "Trick? Or treat?"

You still held a knife of your own and you didn't hesitate to play with it as you responded with a playful gleam in your eyes, "How 'bout both?"

He chuckled before he dropped the modulator and used his free hand to reach down and grab your jaw, "In that case, I apologize for keeping you waiting."

Freddy Kruger:

Better call it an early night, cause he doesn't like to be kept waiting either. He's in that dreamworld tapping his foot with his arms crossed, hoping you'll pass out in costume.

"Late night?" You heard his voice echo as you searched for him in the darkness.

"Early actually, you're just impatient," you replied with a smirk as you turned the corner, expecting to find him there.

Of course, it was empty. He was never where you expected him to be. You paused and your head whipped around when you heard those claws of his scraping metal. The echo was deceiving, it refused to give away his location. Silence followed and you lifted a foot to continue your search.

"Bored would be more accurate," you heard his voice echo again, but the next words he spoke were right in your ear, "but not anymore."

As soon as you turned, he rushed forward to push you against the metal railing. Your briefly startled and somewhat terrified expression made him chuckle smugly as he brought his claws up to drag them along your costume. It was tight, not too much coverage, which was exactly what he was hoping for.

He clicked his tongue before he looked back up at you, "Modesty isn't really your thing, is it?"

"Don't tell me you expected a nun," you said, with a quick glance at his blades, which he brought to your bare throat.

"Oh," he growled in response to your quick wit, "you're lucky I like you."

"Am I?"

Your breathy whisper hovered between the two of you as the cool metal glided across your skin. Though it was dark, you caught a smile on his face as he listened to your quickened breath. He'd never cut you, not too deep at least, but he quite enjoyed keeping you in frightened anticipation. He found his way to the bottom of your chin and lifted it with the sharp end.

"Maybe," he said in that gravely tone that made your knees weak, "though I'm sure being trapped here would be considered pretty unlucky for most."

"Trapped?" You said quickly, but he cut the word short by pressing a needy kiss to your lips.

He pushed you harder against the rail, forcing a little whimper from your mouth and smiled against you. He pulled back just enough to speak, but made sure you could feel each syllable against your lips.

"You expect me to let you leave in this?"

"Not at all," you whispered back, "I didn't expect to leave in anything."

His smile returned, "Smart girl."

Last, but certainly not least, our resident spooky boy; Michael Myers:

He's practically the king of Halloween and assuming your on his good side, your night is sure to be filled with excitement. Michael goes all out. Anything traditional, you're doing it. Pumpkins, costumes, horror movies (his, of course) and candy. Lots of candy. But, we all know he's more tricks than treats, you gotta earn those and what better way to do that than a chase?

Edit: I was gonna get allllll of the above in this, but when I start writing for Michael it always ends up being more romantic than intended. Because, well, obvious reasons.

It was late by the time you pulled up to the old, seemingly abandoned white house on Lampkin Lane. You always made sure to give him enough time to finish his yearly rounds before you got him all to yourself. It was chilly, the wind was high and the sound of leaves crunching under your shoes sent excitement stirring in your stomach. His home was the essence of Halloween, you thought to yourself. The entire street, for that matter, was the same. The street lamps were always dim, keeping the place shadowed and the trees swayed at its side to make it appear as though it was breathing. Aesthetically pleasing was an understatement, the Myers' house was simply the spirit of all things eerie, picture perfect. It made it all the more inviting to know who was waiting inside. You could almost feel him in the cool breeze that whipped past you as you approached the front door. Michael always knew you were there long before you discovered him, he was well aware of your presence. You turned the handle and let the door swing open on its own to reveal the haunting aura of the front room you were dying to step into. Slowly, but surely, you entered with your eyes focused on the staircase. He was usually up there, gazing out the window at this point, but you knew he'd heard you, wherever he was. He'd come when he was ready. You let your hand rest on the wooden railing and silently admired the rotting walls with a soft smile on your face. It had become a tradition, this strange cat and mouse game you played with him, one you loved more than any other. It started just a few years before. At first, you were unsettled as anyone would be to find the man with the blank, expressionless white mask lurking in the shadows to study your every move. Michael was fascinated by you and he wasn't at all subtle about it. Studying soon turned to short, minimal interactions. He would leave gifts, much like a cat, on your porch. Then your kitchen, living room and finally, your bedroom. After the fear of him ending your life had dissipated, you found yourself looking for him, hoping he'd show up. You'd left a pumpkin out one year with a note attached to it. Nothing too crazy, you simply wanted to wish him a happy Halloween, but later than night you were walking down the street, down this street. You saw a pumpkin resting on the porch of the 'spook house', the Myers house and it too had a piece of paper stuck to it. You were alone, you'd long since bid your friends a goodnight, it was the perfect opportunity to delve deeper into your mysterious admirer. You approached it, quickly plucking the paper from its place and read the sloppily scribbled words with an intrigued grin.

'Come in'

It was him, it had to be. On the back of the paper was your own handwriting. He'd taken the bait, or maybe it was you that had. That was the first time you'd set foot in this home you'd come to adore and adore it you did. Each crack in the floorboards, the cobwebs that hung atop the grimy windows, the old, tattered linens that draped over the forgotten furniture were cherished, you'd made sure of that. It was comforting, you'd never quite put your finger on why, but perhaps it was Michael that made it so. You'd put two and two together over time that your admirer was indeed the boy who'd made headlines when you were a child. Michael Myers was the one who had so kindly invited you into his strange, little world and promised you safety. He wouldn't kill you, he just wanted a closer look. So you waited, much like you were now and eventually, he came home to join you in the shadows.

You were ripped from your memories by the sound of the front door slamming shut behind you. The moment you turned, he was there and his hand didn't hesitate to find your neck, it's favorite resting place. His grip was tight, but never painful and it never failed to ignite a flame somewhere deep within you that no one else had ever seemed capable of doing. Only him. Only he could make you grin the way you were now, with unbridled excitement that you barely bothered to hide. He'd been watching you all day, always just out of your line of sight. The only indication that he was there was the strange connection you'd formed. You felt him, always. The chase was different with you, it was deeper.

"It's good to see you too," you teased, earning his signature head tilt.

His grip loosened and he placed his hand on your cheek. His skin was cool, chilling even, but the goosebumps it raised on the rest of your body made you hum with pleasure. His touch was subtle, his thumb barely moved to brush your skin, but that slight movement said a thousand words. He was glad to see you too, more than you knew. Sometimes he was fearful you wouldn't come to him, that one day you'd wake up and realize you'd be better off leaving him to nightmares, as the rest of Haddonfield had, but you didn't treat him like a bad dream. You didn't treat him like a monster and you didn't leave him wondering. You always came home. It was something Michael needed, something he wouldn't admit even to himself. After the bloodshed, after the violence, it was the comfort of your arms he sought. This was the chase he loved the most, the uncertainty of whether or not you'd be there after he took his eyes off of you and finally, the reality that you were with a smile painted on your face just for him. You were his favorite treat.

"Happy Halloween, Michael."

[thepunchingbag]

Scorch

Fandom: Baldurs Gate III

Pairing: Astarion/Karlach

Description: Astarion and Karlach try to unwind after a difficult day on the road. Burnt flesh and charred clothes might just be a fair trade for a kiss.

Read on AO3

--

Since a peaceful rest evaded him this evening, Astarion chose to idle away the hours by spotting constellations. He stretched over his bedroll, staring up at the vast night sky. The campfire had burnt down to embers, allowing him to see the night's true vibrancy. The stars shined brilliantly here in the wilderness – back at the Gate, he hadn’t much time for stargazing. Not that his Master would have allowed him to do anything so pointless for mere enjoyment.

He spotted the Harp first, glittering against the sky like diamonds upon black velvet. The Centaur and the Woman Warrior had come into alignment, frozen in celestial battle. Squinting his eyes, Astarion thought he could make out the Eyes of the Watching Woman, or. . . perhaps it was Jassa’s Dagger? No, the Dagger normally appeared in autumn. . .  

He heard her approach well before she came into view — for all of Karlach’s many charms, subtlety was not among them— and he could tell she was trying her best to be quiet. Her footfalls were slow, deliberate … but still clumsy. Not to mention the heat radiating off her body and the sound of flames sputtering as her engine rumbled made her ill-suited for stealth.

The fact she was trying so desperately to stay quiet, and failing equally desperately, was actually rather endearing.

Even her whispers were loud, “Hey soldier – you aren’t asleep, are you?”

Astarion whispered back softly, “Just doing a spot of stargazing. Besides, my dear, I don’t sleep, I—”

“Trance. Right, right.” Karlach nodded, “Anything good up there?”

Astarion lifted his arm to point, “The Centaur and the Woman Warrior are in alignment, probably for the last time this year. Then the Centaur will roam across to the northwest. Other than that, it’s awfully boring, darling. But now you’ve come along to keep me company, things have become so much more interesting. . .”

He’d been greatly enjoying himself watching the sky alone— it was far from ‘boring’—  but lying about innocuous things was an old habit. A habit picked up over two centuries needing to be careful about who knew what he enjoyed— and who could take it away as punishment. Not that he needed to worry about that now. Still, some of his old tendencies lingered. No matter what, they lingered.

Even in the dim light, he can see her eyebrow arch. Karlach studied him carefully, then asked, “I can talk to you in the morning, if you’d rather?”

Astarion lowered his voice enticingly, “Heavens forbid. Whatever could my fiery friend want so late at night? I’d be fraught with tension all night without knowing.”

Karlach’s skin glowed in shades of gold and scarlet in the darkness, fire touching her fingertips, flames licking the sides of her face and fluttering in her dark hair. It was hard to look away from her— just as it was often easy to get hypnotized by the dancing flames of a campfire.

Her heartbeat quickened. It was obvious, the way the pulsating light in the center of her chest started rapidly throbbing bright. Her emotions seemed to be on full display, without the benefit of even bodily privacy. Astarion wasn’t sure if he pitied or admired her for it; she was hellishly beautiful.

Karlach’s smile broke out into a full-blown grin, “I’m buzzing, honestly. I couldn’t wait to talk to you.”

Astarion frowned, his smile wavering, “What brought this on?”

“I dunno,” Karlach propped herself up on her elbows, “I was just thinking. Isn’t it mad, how good life is?”

He wanted to laugh in her face. . . but that was unfair. In truth, she was right. Life was good. Or, at any rate, it was better. A damn sight better than a few months prior, when he was prowling the streets and getting on his back in fetid alleyways. Circumstances had drastically improved for her too; no longer suffering under the heavy heel of Zariel, no longer a soldier-slave.

Astarion just manages a half-smile, envying her ability to enjoy the freedom so genuinely— it seemed like every waking moment he was looking behind his shoulder, hearing a hunter’s footsteps close behind.

Before he even knows what he’s doing, he falls into an old rhythm, his smile widening despite himself, “I know what you mean. When I look at you, it’s all I can think about.”

He doesn’t mean it. He means it more than anything. His head swims, lips pressed tight against his fangs as he grins, and he wishes he could pick apart his true intentions from old falsehoods. Karlach deserved better, so much better. And her heart was too fragile to be toyed with, perhaps literally. She was—

Her voice was steady, warm, but her eyes were strangely sad, “Thank the Gods. I was afraid I was the only one. Ten years is a long time to be trapped in the Hells. Ten years without a kind word, a touch.” She shifted nervously, “When I look at you, I feel real again. Alive.”

Astarion wanted to tease her for taking one of his best lines, When I’m with you, I feel practically alive! Ah, yes, an old favorite. Except, she was so. . . so much more convincing than he ever was.

He swallows, sitting up and turning towards her. Opening his mouth to speak, the words die in his throat as he watches her.

“Gods, I want to ride you till you see stars!” She blurts out, throwing her head back in frustration.

A cold pit opens up in his stomach. He digs a fingernail into his palm, letting the painful sensation ground him. It’s funny, he actually lets out a stifled laugh — he’s flattered. Disgusted. Excited. Amused. Worried. Happy. He isn’t sure.

Astarion looks at her, really looks, trying to read her expression. She seems happy, perhaps guardedly so. Hopeful, although a bit of caution behind her eyes. Gods, it’s enough to break his dead heart. Doesn’t she deserve to have something good, for once? He chastises himself. Karlach isn’t a fool; she probably can sense his hesitation.

And he falls into an old dance, the steps almost comforting in their familiarity, “You don’t have to ask me twice, darling. Let’s go.”

She looks away, “Ugh, I’m sorry.” Karlach digs her heels into the dirt, “I shouldn’t tease you – or myself. I’d give anything to touch you, but I can’t. Not until I can be sure I won’t burn you.”

He pouts, “Not even just one kiss?”

“I’ll turn you to charcoal. Guaranteed.”

He draws closer; he can half-pretend that his dead body is alive and warm again being so near to her radiating heat, “We’ll make it quick. One tiny kiss, nothing more.”

Karlach hesitates, holds back. For a minute, he worries she’ll get up and leave. A part of him is surprised when he realizes he’d actually be disappointed if she left. If nothing else, his curiosity is getting the better of him. A chaste kiss is a novelty. Strangely… it’s quite appealing.

She shifts nervously. Finally, she concedes, “We can try.”

He grins and leans in closer, sweat already beading on his brow, a blast of intense heat hitting his face as she leans towards him.

Karlach murmurs, “But don’t hurt those pretty lips of yours, all right? Because they feature heavily in my future plans. . .”

Their lips touch for less than a second, but his skin feels like it’s going to slough off, boiling and red. Karlach’s kiss is a scalding hot brand on his mouth, scorching hot, hotter than the deepest pits of the Hells.

His hair and clothes start catching fire.

Astarion pulls away from her immediately in alarm, picking up dirt and tossing it into his hair, throwing himself onto the ground and patting down the flames. After a moment of sheer terror, he catches his breath while absentmindedly realizing he’s covered in soil and must look dreadful. He reaches to his mouth, feeling blistered flesh.

“Bloody fucking Hells!” He hisses.

Karlach is in a full-blown panic, her hands reaching out to comfort him before she quickly pulls away, remembering her touch would only make things worse, “Oh Gods, are you all right?”

Astarion has the audacity to look shocked and Karlach almost wants to slap him across his smarmy face, if that wouldn’t turn his head into a well-cooked roast.

“I— you nearly melted my face off!” He snaps.

“Make better decisions then!” She snaps back, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, fangs. I’m an ‘at your own risk’ attraction.”

Astarion breathes out a long and ragged breath before he gathers himself, “I’ve never been one for listening to good sense, unfortunately, darling. I’m. . .” He struggles, “I’m sorry.”

She shrugs, letting out a dejected sigh. 

Astarion glances up and notices the forlorn look on Karlach’s face. Something within him twists in sympathy, and the emotion catches him off-guard.

His lips have split open, bleeding— he licks the blood off his lips greedily, not wanting to lose a drop. Sitting there next to her, unsure of his next move, he watches Karlach’s expression gradually grow more miserable with every passing minute. He’s mystified at his own impulse to reach out to her, to lay a hand on her shoulder— if only it was possible without immolating himself. His chest aches in some strange, heavy emotion he can’t classify.

“So,” Karlach says after a long silence, “What do we do now?”

Pausing, he considers this question seriously.

Then he looks at her, a mischievous smile growing on his face. Karlach almost laughs at the sight; him, covered in soot and soil, singed white hair and all. She reminds him of a mangy alley cat about to do something naughty, like stealing a sardine off a fishmonger’s cart.

“Maybe I can’t touch you, my dear, but I can tell you what I’d like to do with you…”

He leans in close, but not too close to cause a repeat incineration, whispering behind his hand. Her tail flicked back and forth involuntarily as he described dragging his tongue along her neck, his hands unstrapping her leathers, his fingers trailing along her body and sliding into the warmth between her legs. How her nails would feel digging into his back. As Astarion pulled away, he was relieved to see her expression had lightened.

“Right, my turn.” She says excitedly.

Karlach carefully drew near. Whispering in between self-conscious bursts of laughter, she told him how she’d thread her fingers through his hair, kissing him (“No burning this time” she sighed)—kissing his face all over. First his brow, then the bridge of his nose, then his lips. She’d hold him close, pulling him to her as they settled comfortably into a soft bed (“The bed’s also not burning” Karlach added quickly; Astarion tried not to laugh) and she would straddle his hips, riding him until they both lost their senses. Then they’d fall asleep together with their hands intertwined, Karlach murmured, her voice trailing off. . . 

Astarion raised his eyebrows. “How sweet. I didn’t realize my she-devil was such a soft touch.”

“Don’t be so sour.” Karlach twisted one of the leather straps on her cuirass, “Besides, caught you blushing just then.”

“I don’t blush,” Astarion bristled, adjusting the ruffles on his collar, “I hardly have the blood to spare for that.” 

“Oh? Just my imagination then. . .” Karlach guffawed, “Guess we’ll have to find another poor innocent boar for you to snack on. Wait, no! Better idea: we bash Gortash’s brains in, you drink him up, then we have victory sex over his corpse.”

“Keep talking like that, and I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself. Burning be damned.”

“Not unless you want your soft hands getting cooked, you won’t.”

To his surprise, he genuinely felt dispirited. “Alas.”

She shook her head, sighing, “Well, you’ve given me a lot to. . . think about. Not sure I can sleep now, honestly. Not without doing something really indecent in my bunk, anyway.”

“Likewise. I’ll be tormenting myself all night with the thought of you.”

“Cheeky.” She snorts, “Seriously, though. I need to take my mind off this, or I’ll overheat. Don’t want to set anything else on fire. Got anything boring to talk about?”

Boring conversation wasn’t usually what he was aiming for with his victims – Astarion stopped himself. She wasn’t a victim.

Dusting the soil off his clothes, he settled down into his bedroll again. Smiling courteously, he patted the earth next to him, inviting her to lie down. . . at a safe distance. Given her affliction, Karlach wasn’t able to even have her own bedroll – not without it immediately combusting upon contact. She had to use a pair of blacksmith’s tongs to pick up anything flammable and even then, the metal became superheated if she held the tongs too long. Even her “bunk” was little more than a patch of dirt, covered with a canvas shade hung high enough to avoid her flames.

As Karlach made herself comfortable (as comfortable as possible, lying in the dirt), Astarion focused his attention again to the sky above.

He pointed to a cluster of stars, “Before you so graciously joined me, I was trying to decide what that constellation over there is. It can’t be Jassa’s Dagger. Too early in the season. But it doesn’t look like anything I recognize.”

“All I know is how to spot the Tears of Selûne but that’s the biggest, most bloody obvious thing in the sky. Bit out of practice— no stars in Hell, you see.” Karlach stretched out on the dirt, “Anyway, that one just looks like a hand flipping me off.”

He snorted— it did actually look like that. Appropriate. Given their current circumstances, was it any surprise that even the heavens were telling them to go fuck themselves?

Things weren’t all bad, though.

They argue over what they’d name the constellation, and somewhere about an hour in, Astarion turns over to point out that he’s spotted the Circle starting to crest over the east— only to see Karlach dozed off, drooling into the dirt. Before he stops himself, he almost reaches over to wipe the drool off her face.

A wave of guilt overtakes him when he breathes a sigh of relief that all they did, all they could do, was talk. Somehow, he’s grown fond of their odd little chats, their not-quite-courtship.

He enjoys being near her. Likes her.

More than likes her, he realizes as he falls into a trance, feeling her kiss still burning hot on his lips.

[cricketnationrise]

Hi!! My prompt:

3:47pm

The lake house on Lake LBJ

Oscar Diaz

Song for vibes: My Way DH by Rascal Flatts

Thank you!!! ❤️❤️❤️

ooooo Oscar was fun to write. note to self, must write more Oscar. anyway i listened to My Wish and immediately had 'dad thinking about his kids' vibes so please enjoy just over 600 words of oscar being happy for his children 💜🦗

read the rest of the ficlets here!

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

3:47pm, lake lbj

It’s a special kind of surreal seeing both his kids in love.

Sure, June may not actually be dating Nora, but that’s a when, not an if, judging by the way Nora half-melts when June smiles at her and the special crinkle of June’s eyes when she watches Nora spout off ridiculous statistics. Oscar hasn’t seen that particular crinkle since June was with Evan. His heart swells with happiness for his oldest every time he spots her and Nora lost in each other’s company or trying to drown each other in the lake or communicating solely through raised eyebrows and quirked lips or when Nora hides her watery eyes when June sings Annie’s Song next to the campfire. They’re practically one brain, one soul even, split across two bodies and it’s stunning to witness.

Sure, Alex may not have admitted to himself that he’s in love with Henry, but Oscar would bet the lake house, his Senate seat, and much more besides, that Alex will figure his shit out soon, because he’s never seen his son like this before. 

Alex has always moved a million miles an hour, always put a ton of pressure on himself, always pushed himself to juggle a seemingly-impossible load. Oscar has seen the dark circles under his eyes when they video chat, has heard the exhaustion in his voice when Alex visits his Senate office, has noted the middle-of-the-night timestamp on one too many emails to think that Alex is completely fine. Oscar recognizes the signs of stress—both from himself and from when he and Ellen lived together—that have been increasing in frequency over the past year.

But lately, and this week in particular, Alex seems settled in his own skin—he’s practically aglow—and not because of the sunshine. Every time he sets eyes on Henry, or makes him laugh, or even just talks about him, Alex lights up. All through prepping the food earlier, Alex had kept glancing out the window, a fond smile on his face at the sight of Henry out on the dock refereeing the girls. Watching his son and Henry interact, it’s like there’s a whole other level of happiness that’s been unlocked. 

Alex’s carefully blank voice when he’d asked if his ‘friend’ Henry could come to the lake house had all of Oscar’s dad instincts sitting up. And his son’s anxious hand wringing when he’d introduced Henry had been enough to tell Oscar that this person was someone special to Alex, even if he’d never indicated he was interested in men before. Their conversation in the kitchen had been an unnecessary, but welcome, confirmation. 

All he’s ever wanted for June and Alex is for them to be safe and happy. The Texas sun shining down only highlights how content his kids are—it looks good on them both—and Oscar is beyond grateful he gets to witness it. He’s always wished for them to dream as big as they wanted to, for them to reach out and gather up all the love they can possibly hold inside. He’s always wanted them to have a comfortable place to land, a secure set of arms to fall into if life knocks them down. He’s always wanted them to know they can fly free, knowing someone loves them unconditionally. And sure, he and Ellen and Leo and all their extended family love Alex and June but— It’s immensely satisfying knowing that the universe has answered Oscar’s wish and led both of his children to their people.

He hopes they’re both brave enough to reach out and gather their loves close, and hang on tight through whatever life throws their way.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Writing Game 1.4: Campfire

Prompt: Campfire Pairing: Clark Kent/Steve Rogers

"I still think it's cheating." Steve grins, watching Clark roll his eyes.

"Well, I'm sorry that the 'Star-Spangled Man With a Plan' couldn't get the flint working."

"Wow, do people still know about that one? I kinda thought that one would die off. It's a bit of a mouthful."

"I was just a very good history student."

"Aren't you a reporter? Shouldn't you be more interested in current events?"

"You are current." Clark laughs. "But also, you've got to know where you've been to know where you're going, right?"

"Then I guess I must know that better than anyone." Steve clicks his teeth, shooting Clark a grin. His face must be funny, because Clark snorts in an effort to stifle his giggles.

It wasn't exactly a common thing for them, camping, but during a week spent in Smallville with the Kents, Steve took the opportunity when Clark mentioned it to get them some private time. Martha and Jonathan are wonderful, but their guest room is just not conducive for two large muscular men in the same bed.

"I really liked getting to see your home. It's fascinating to me... were you ever really that small?"

Clark laughs again. "Yeah. I was quite the shrimpy kid, you know. It was one of the things I liked - Pa was a late bloomer too, and it made me feel connected to him when they told me when I was adopted."

Steve nods. "They're lucky to have you. And you with them. I think my mom woulda liked them. And you."

Clark lies back on the soft grass, looking up through the trees to the night sky. "You're doing okay, right?"

"Hmm?" Steve asks, glancing back at him. "Okay about what?"

"That joke Pa made this morning. About you being older than him."

It was harmless, Steve thought. In his own way, Jonathan was trying to put Steve at ease about it. It was a weird situation, even he would admit. How would he feel if his and Clark's son was marrying a guy who looked his age but was older than him? And then the idle thought hits him in full force that he just imagined him and Clark having a kid in the future. Starting a family. But he didn't let his wild thoughts run away with his mouth. "I didn't mind, honestly. I like that he's... okay enough to joke, I guess?"

Steve flops back onto the grass and rolls onto his side, looking right at Clark. "I love you."

"Aww. I love you too."

The reply is always so easy for Clark. It still makes Steve jumpy, the idea of being so open and free with his love - even when he knew his attraction to more than just women, he knew only that kind was "acceptable" in polite society. The first time he kissed Clark in public, he had a reaction that was somehow like the euphoric feeling of cresting the top of a roller coaster and having a panic attack all at once.

Clark scoots closer, and Steve opens his arms to cuddle him close.

"Thanks for doing this. I know maybe a whole week with my parents might be overwhelming-"

"It's really not. Martha and Jon are... they're amazing people. And you have such a close relationship with them - what, am I gonna make you choose, them or me?" Steve scoffs. "I think, even under normal circumstances, your parents are probably the best ever."

Clark beams at him, and graces him with a long, slow, passionate kiss. "All the same, we'll head home after tomorrow. I wanna do things with you that I really don't wanna be in my parents' house for."

Steve blushes, and Clark kisses him again. "I mean... technically we're not in your parents' house right now."

It's so hard to fluster Clark, and Steve cherishes the chances he gets to. Clark goes bright red, and then rolls off of Steve, laughing. "Okay, someday I'll tell you about when I came out to my parents. Let's just say I'm never trying to have sex on their land again."

"Oh, come on, you have to tell me now!"

"Fine. We were fooling around. Me and this boy from school. A good friend, Billy Crescent. My first boyfriend, after Lana and I broke up. And he, well... let's just say I caused a sonic boom and knocked down a whole buncha trees."

Steve starts to snicker, and bursts into full on guffaws. Clark pouts just a moment before he starts to laugh too.

"Alright, alright. We'll make sure not to cause another environmental incident until we get home." Steve teases, silencing Clark's retort with another long kiss.

They speak and kiss well into the night, and long after their campfire dies down, they cuddle in each other's arms, fast asleep.

[moviesstoriesandbooks]

Afterwards Chay wakes up in his apartment with a massive headache .But it's the tense bliss deep , deep in his bones , which he brings to the forefront by taking an advil.

He tries to remember what had happened last night , but only gets till his brief excuses to the interested seniors who were eyeing openly, so he could get more of the free cocktails and jump around with his friends .

The stains on the sheets and the satisfied hum of his lower muscles give evidence to his lost virginity. It was a guy. He fucked sone guy he met at a party and had no idea who it was. What if it was his classmate? Or worse yet ......

What in hell would he do if it was a senior???

Problems for another day , he was already late to his morning lecture. Pulling out the sheets that were stained red at some places , he wondered if he should get new ones in the meantime.

--------*-----------*----------*-------*

Fresher's day and beach activities brought out more of Chay's talents. P'Roni was eyeing him up and down when he picked dare again and again - danced , carried one of his buddies bridal style , did handstand for 2 minutes and acted out as the possessive lead of a new drama.

Chay still didn't know . Was it P'Roni who spent the night with him? Did he remember it and was that why he felt his eyes on him all the time?

All of these thoughts came to a standstill when Kim walked into the glow of the campfire light.

As midnight approached and drinks flowed freely , music swelled and tensions mounted , Chay could feel , inspite of the haziness of the alcohol coursing through his body , how Kim was watching him.

Did he expect him to run and hide? To fade away to some corner or cry pathetically to cope? Fuck that. Kim wasn't going to drive him away from his own fresher's party. He would be treated as just any other senior . Nothing less , definitely nothing more.

Chay kept singing out loud with his friends , laughing and having fun , as one should , leaving Kim withdrawn and hunched by the fire , staring longingly , the bitemarks from days before tingling , making him shiver even in the warm breeze. The famous P'Wik had appearances to keep , helped only by the fragile smile plastered on his face , while his mind looped around thoughts of how a particular pair of eyes had looked at him that night . How those fingers strumming the guitar now , had made him moan uncontrollably when they pinched , rolled and rubbed out rolls of pleasure off of his chest , how those legs were working overtime to press and grind onto the place deep within him where he needed it the most. Or how those full lips and pearly teeth had painted his entire thighs purple and blue , that he had to pick full trousers instead of his favoured beach shorts.

Why did Chay seem so unaffected? Didn't he remember?

Was it only him who was reminded of it everytime he moved , every time he looked at himself in the mirror , or had to button up his shirt fully to the neck ???

[rootsofdread]

leon! if youre up to it, would you write some romantic head canons for the reader with jeff, zarina, vittorio, and jonah (separate) please? tysm

always! i adore vito and jonah so i was so happy to see this!! <33

Jeff Johansen:

Underneath Jeff’s tough exterior, his mask of protection, he’s a sweet, sensitive man who enjoys his quiet and heartfelt moments with you. He loves sitting by the campfire and talking with you for hours about whatever comes to the two of you’s minds, long into either the late hours of the night or the early light of the morning depending on when you started. He holds you close while you do, and he laughs heartily, genuinely, at all of your jokes. You’re the person he feels most comfortable around.

If the two of you get mixed up with a bunch of the other survivors, he’ll search for your hand for some comfort. Crowds make him anxious, you know. He enjoys having someone who can quell his anxiety — someone he can just hold onto and feel calmer, safer. A savior.

He knows his music isn't for everyone, so he appreciates that you'll let him play it while he draws. It helps him get into the zone, and helps with any frustration he might have with the piece. He also appreciates you checking in on him while he's drawing too, he can get tunnel vision and may need it.

During trials, he always takes you away from the other survivors. He prefers it just being the two of you, it's easier to worry about two people than to worry about four; and he likes his alone time with you. Working on gens together is quite nice before the killer comes barrelling towards it. But then you two get to hide together, and he doesn't mind that.

He loves swapping stories from before you two were taken into the fog, to remember simpler times. He loves telling you about his time as a roadie, working at the video store, his dog. He loves listening to your stories, too, even if they're not the most interesting stories in the world. He misses the life before — but he knows without the fog, he wouldn't have met you. So it's not all bad.

Zarina Kassir:

Zarina is just as devoted to you as she ever was to any of her stories, her causes — in a different way, sure, but devoted nonetheless. Her loyalty and protectiveness is never a question, she is always demonstrating to you just how much she loves you. She's fiery and intense and you never have to worry that she doesn't love you. And if you do…It isn't an issue. She's happy to remind you.

She's strong, and willing to fight your battles for you if you need her to. People can be horrible. She'll help you stand up for yourself, and set your own boundaries. Or, if you don't need her help, she's always right behind you, supporting you and your decisions. You're your own person. She's always encouraging you to fight for yourself whether you need it from her or not, she wants you to know she always has your back.

She encourages you to do things you like and try new, exciting things. She likes trying to get you out of your comfort zone — she knows it can be difficult and scary, and she loves being your helping hand. She’ll never push you too far, just enough for something to be fun. She’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.

What she loves most is quiet nights by the campfire, just the two of you. You both fight so hard every day, being able to rest, enjoy each other’s presence, be quiet and content…It’s everything to her. She cherishes every night like this, her little moments with the person she loves the most. There’s nothing in the world better.

She’s pretty attached to you, and is always close to you. She feels responsible for you, and just wants to look out for you, make sure you stay safe, and make sure her presence is felt and you know she’s always here for you. She’ll usually be holding your hand, will have a hand on your back or your arm, and will always give you a sweet, reassuring smile.

Vittorio Toscano:

Vittorio is a very secretive man, everyone’s aware of this; he's friendly, but closed off. But around you, he’s different. He’s visibly relaxed and more comfortable, vulnerable. He doesn’t feel like he needs to hide anything from you — you don’t judge him for his pacifism, his unwillingness to share his things with others, you listen to him and acknowledge what he has to say. He trusts you completely, with his whole heart, he knows you’d never do anything to betray him.

You’re the one person Vittorio will divulge his ancient, arcane knowledge and secrets with; he knows this world is much scarier, more magical than the previous, and his things may seem silly now. But he treasures them, and he entrusts them to you, too — it feels much like he’s bearing a part of his soul to you, these things are important to him. But it’s much more important to him that you share an interest in them, and let him speak of them without judgement.

He’s an adventurer, and will run off with you during trials to explore the trialgrounds. He makes sure the two of you are careful, of course, you can’t run into the killers. He’s been here for thousands of years, but he’s still just as intrigued by the realm as ever, and he loves getting to explore it with you. He’s always finding new things in old places, and he has that childlike wonder every time a new realm is discovered, even if it brings a new threat.

He loves reading to you. Getting you on his lap or cuddled up to his side and reading aloud from his old books is something he adores. He knows his books aren’t the most interesting things to most people — but he appreciates you let him read them to you. He’s still a scholar, and loves teaching you new things. Or old things, rather.

In the same vein — he loves hearing about things from your time period. He may have some knowledge of modern things from the realm, but he doesn’t know everything, and it’s utterly fascinating to hear about things from you. Cellphones, computers, cars, robots. It all seems as magical to him as his ancient artifacts, maybe even moreso.

Jonah Vasquez:

Jonah gets overwhelmed by his arithmetic sometimes, you’re no stranger to it, but he’s always more calm around you. His brain doesn’t buzz with numbers that cloud his thoughts and make it difficult to listen, he just focuses on you, your sparkling eyes, soft hair, your laugh and your smile. You make the world easier to navigate for him, less intense, less complicated. Numbers may be his way of making sense of the world — but so are you.

He does enjoy trying to teach you codebreaking. He knows math isn’t much fun for most people (but if you find it fun, trust and believe, he’s absolutely delighted), but solving puzzles usually is. He comes up with codes, and has you decipher them, with his help, of course, if you need it. He finds it a fun, relaxing activity for the both of you. And he loves sharing his interest in numbers with his partner.

He loves settling down and cuddling with you. He’s had a very eventful life — both before being pulled into the fog, and during these times in the realm — and he loves that you can slow it down, and he can appreciate everything again. Clouds, grass, leaves, flowers…It’s been so long since he’s taken the time to admire the world around him, and as terrifying as the realm is, it can be beautiful, too.

He tends to be a very serious man, his job demanded it of him and the realm demands it, too. But you can bring out a more lighthearted side of him — one that loves to joke around and goof off. He loves making you laugh and having fun with you, now that he has the time to have more fun. He can really make you laugh sometimes, and then he sends himself into a laughing fit. 

Since you always listen to him talk about mathematics and codes and puzzles, he always listens to you talk about your hobbies, and he absolutely loves doing it. He loves the sound of your voice, and loves seeing you so happy talking about something you enjoy. Even if it’s not something he’s particularly interested in himself — he enjoys learning about it from you, something he otherwise never would’ve heard about. He loves that.

[celianity]

we go down together - jj.m.

After being abandoned by JJ in a jail cell, you are not really on speaking terms. The chaos becomes perfect when three uninvited guests crash your little beach party.

disclaimer: just tapping back into writing - might turn this into a little story project (if anyone's interested)

warnings: slight swearing, fighting, mentions of underaged drinking, english not being my first language

His eyes are more unfathomable than the depths of the ocean as he watches me across the campfire. The flames draw sharp shadows on his face, and I avert my gaze, afraid to cut myself on its edges.

It wouldn't be the first time I've stained my hands with blood trying to resist his almost magnetic pull. But by now I have become a serious opponent myself.

The hand on my lower back increases its pressure, pulling me closer to the side of the tourist whose name I'm going to scream tonight with such conviction that JJ’s ears will bleed even on the opposite side of town.

Am I getting tired of this cat-and-mouse game? Yes. Will I conciliatory hold out my hand and admit defeat? Of course not.

The beer in my red plastic cup is stale, warmed slightly by the fire and the still-comfortable temperatures, just right to make the fingers wandering along my hip more bearable. JJ gulps and brings his own cup to his lips to mask the disgusted tug around his mouth.

I know all too well how that sight can burn into your retinas, how cruelly it can keep you awake at night while you ruffle your hair and curse yourself for your own stubbornness.

Rough fingertips against the bare skin of my thigh bring me back to the present and I find myself wishing they belonged to someone else. The conversations of my friends crash over me like a mighty wave, their laughter carried away by the wind along with the music playing quietly in the background. A strand of hair flies across my eyes, veiling the scenery around me for a split second, before it’s carefully being tucked behind my ear by the boy next to me.

Kiara's gaze is razor sharp, slashing my ribcage open with a clean cut down the middle, baring the scars on my heart. Under her scrutiny, I feel weirdly naked. Not the kind I would prefer under any other circumstances.

I give her a carefree smile and turn back to my companion, whom I met on the beach while surfing this afternoon.

I didn't tell Kie about the last fight between JJ and me for fear she might finally be forced to choose a side. That it most likely wouldn't be mine makes the corners of my eyes sting suspiciously.

Each rash word is just another mark on JJ and mine's score. Gentle touches, breathless sweet nothings, secret revelations, nullified by accusations that etched our throats with every syllable. A lame maneuver to hide the real depth of our feelings.

As if JJ didn't relive each of the fears in my head through the stories, I used to tell him late at night. As if I didn't anchor each ounce of his guilty feelings inside the pit of my stomach to relieve him of this burden at least a little.

The familiar outline of his clenched jaw almost makes me forget why we're at loggerheads. My fingers twitch and I claw them into the hem of my dress. He's not getting off the hook so easily this time, no matter how much I miss the weight of his arms around my waist when lying in my bed.

The idea of sinking Topper's boat may have been my doing, but the finer points of the exercise came from JJ's imagination.

I suppress a shudder at the memory of the musty dampness of the puny jail cell where I spent last night. Alone, mind you. That traitorous asshole tucked tail when the going got tough and Shoupe showed up at the chateau’s door. And yet, with each passing minute, I find it harder to keep stoking my rage.

I swallow hard and sway the half-empty plastic cup in my hand before emptying it.

In a household with unstable foundations, news of an arrest is like an all-consuming earthquake that leaves no survivors. Not to mention the sizable bail, which for my parents was more onerous bureaucracy than serious problem. A metaphorical slap on the wrist and they turned back to more interesting things.

I endured my friends’ taunts this morning with a gracefully raised chin and indulgent laughter, because I have solid ground under my feet while JJ balances on a tightrope.

Still, his betrayal hurts more than I care to admit.

Before my mind starts spinning again, I focus on the banter between John B and Pope, who are about to use absurd comparisons to fight out who would stay alive longer in the event of a zombie apocalypse.

A winner can no longer be declared, because at that moment three shadowy figures approach from one side of the beach. Their quick steps sink into the sand, making their strides look rather stodgily. This impression fades relatively quickly when I identify the figure in the middle as Rafe.

“Hey, ex-con,” he calls out, the echo of his voice reverberating in my bones. Topper and Kelce flank him on either side, as if clinging to their mom’s skirt.

The realization makes me laugh in surprise and I quickly slap my hand over my mouth. John B gives me an alarmed look before stepping around the campfire to face our uninvited guests.

JJ lowers his cup to the ground and rises as well, arms folded defensively in front of his chest. I can almost feel the tension in his shoulders and unintentionally take a step toward him until cold fingers snake around my wrist to hold me back.

A broad back slides into my field of vision and my patience snaps. Roughly, I yank my wrist free and circle the fireplace, stopping next to John B, ready to face the inevitable melee with my head held high. Somewhere behind me I hear JJ’s knuckles crack.

“Have they now robbed you of the last vestige of your already deficient manners?” Rafe taunts and the hostile undertone in his voice makes me shudder. “So, a little refresher of the natural hierarchy should be just right, don't you think? It’s always tit for tat.”

“Since when do you let Mommy fight your battles, Top?” I ask challengingly, studiously ignoring Rafe. “We’re even, you dickheads. You had your fun with Pope, and in return we had ours with the Malibu. You should have heard her heartbreaking screams as she sank.” My choice of words hit the mark.

Rafe marches directly toward me with sweeping strides and I brace myself for his outburst of volcanic proportions, already seeing myself covered in ash kneeling amid the lava-covered landscape. He should really learn to get his temper under control. My jibes would be far less fun if they were met with an impenetrable countenance.

He has almost reached me when a blond shadow tackles him to the ground, causing sand to spurt up in all directions.

For a second of shock, we are all frozen before Kiara’s shouts and Pope’s groans tear the night apart. Topper has knocked the latter to all fours with a well-aimed punch to the stomach. Kie lunges for Kelce’s back, who gets a hold of John B’s shirt collar at that moment.

It's a chaotic mess of flailing limbs and strained groans.

And I stand at the edge of the scenery, squinting at the fast moving body shapes dimly lit by the fire like a fish out of water.

My tourist companion secretly sneaks away behind my back, but I couldn’t care less.

Taking a deep breath, I snap out of my stupor and grab Rafe’s lunging arm around the bicep before it can smash down on JJ’s face like a sledgehammer. The momentum of his movement makes me stumble, and I claw my fingers harder into his heated skin.

He whirls around, an animalistic glint in his eyes, ready to get back at me even though we’re not on direct war terms with each other. Shining blood wets his split lip, forming a thin trickle down his chin.

A spark of fear settles in the pit of my stomach. But he's not the only one willing to take a slap in the face for his friend.

“Don't even think about it", JJ presses through clenched teeth, kicking Rafe’s legs out from under him. He collapses like a blown up building and JJ manages to put him in a relentless headlock. “We’re even, you bastard.”

Finally, he pushes Rafe off of him as the latter's complexion turns an unhealthy dark red in the fire’s glow. Rafe lands on his stomach, unable to soften the fall with his hands, growling faintly.

My warning catches in my throat as JJ turns to face me, gifting Rafe with a moment of inattention for his next attack.

JJ’s fingertips slip from my outstretched palm.

Rafe pins him to the ground with both knees, fingers curled into claws around his neck, squeezing relentlessly, while JJ wriggles under his weight to get free again.

Feverishly, my eyes search for a way out, but the others are too busy trying to prevent various body parts from being broken. Pope and John B keep Kelce and Topper at bay, while Kie tries in vain to settle the fights.

That’s when I spot JJ’s backpack leaning against a log by the campfire and rush toward it, desperately hoping to find the gun inside that he rarely leaves the house without lately. He has an unfortunate habit of not having it at hand in dicey situations.

Half blinded by my rising panic, I rummage through the contents of the bag, gracing the coldness of his motorcycle keys and a bag of weed before my fingers close around the handle of the gun.

Two shots rip through the night, interrupting the melee for a few seconds. Steadying my hand with the other, I aim the barrel at Topper's sweaty face, wandering further over Kelce until I reach Rafe.

“The next shot is a hit.” I warn, taking a few steps forward to reinforce my words.

Breathing heavily, JJ shoves Rafe off of him and struggles to his feet. My friends slowly drag themselves behind me until Kooks and Pogues are facing each other, waiting with baited breath. Kie has an arm wrapped around Pope’s waist in support. John B, panting slightly, brushes his tousled curls from his forehead.

“You heard her.” Kiara snaps. “I wouldn't tempt fate if I were you.”

Rafe spits disdainfully at our feet before shooing his entourage in the opposite direction with a nod of his head. Apparently, a spark of his sanity has managed to save itself from JJ’s blows.

“Holy shit.” Pope moans, slipping from Kiara's grasp to slump against a tree trunk, his face contorted in pain.

“Now would you please put that away?” JJ asks, hesitantly closing a blood crusted hand around the barrel of the gun.

I glare at him. My heart is pounding, adrenaline flooding my veins, and for a split second I'm afraid my finger might slip on the trigger. I release my tense grip and drop the gun to the ground in front of him.

“Careful, Maybank. I may have just saved your ass, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten about my little jail holiday.”

His gaze becomes veiled again and it’s like sitting in this damn cell anew, hands clasping the bars, waiting to be released. But this time I turn around and throw away the key.

For now, I don’t crave the sweet taste of freedom.

[sushisocks]

Do you have any Sean x Lenny headcanons? I’m so desperate for more of their content, lol.

DO I HAVE SEAN X LENNY HEADCANONS?!??! Dear anon I could talk about macsummers FOREVEEERRRR!!!! We are truly STARVED for content about them but yes yes let me share some THOUGHTS I have lolol (sorry for the late reply, this week has been kicking my ass aklsdjf)

Okay see I think MacSummers have such good potential to be real 'one fell first, the other fell harder', in that sense of the second person falling suddenly having to catch up on all the feelings, yknow? And it works EITHER way, which I LOVE abt them, so let's talk about what their crushes would look like njbhnjbhmk

Lenny's first to fall:

Lenny ABSOLUTELY has a crush foreveeerrr, pining HARD because he can't bring himself to make a move. Half of that is also reckoning with the fact that he HAS a crush, and on Sean of all people.

Sean is an oblivious idiot; a bi king so busy with the thrill of the chase he doesn't realize what's right in front of him at first, and also, in his mind the possibility of Lenny being interested in him is so small it barely connects.

It's a mess; people DEFINITELY start noticing - it's Lenny's first time having feelings as intense as these about someone and he is NOT as subtle as he'd like to believe he is.

Truly painful for anyone to witness; no, Lenny, that joke was not that funny, stop staring wistfully across the camp like that, everyone knows you're just sitting at the campfire because Sean is there, your book is upside down.

The girls swing back and forth between gently teasing him about it or trying to cheer him up after witnessing some horrendous attempt at flirting from Sean with one of them - they're all rolling their eyes at him for it.

Jenny is def the one who notices first, and the one Lenny goes to for advice. She does NOT give him good advice. Thankfully Lenny is smart enough to realize as much when she tells him to take Sean fishing during a moonlit night, like that's 1) romantic in any sense of the word or 2) something normal for them to do.

Hosea also catches on but it just makes him more grumpy when dealing with Sean, very fatherly 'youre not good enough for my child' vibes off him. Sean still has 0 clue, but now sometimes he catches Hosea giving him the deathstare, and there's a high chance that every time Hosea sees Sean even look in Lenny's direction, he's considering pulling his gun on him.

Tilly is the most sympathetic to Lenny out of the whole lot, when she's not laughing at him. Tbf they're all laughing at him.

The 'Let me teach you how to read!' thing is very much an excuse just to hang out with Sean more. Mind you Lenny is very serious in his effort to teach Sean, he definitely thinks Sean deserves someone making the effort for him, but he's very internally giddy about 'hihi spending time with crush!!' And he probably does have to go debrief with Jenny and Tilly about it.

He only FINALLY gets the nerve to make a move at the end of a long night of drinking. Liquid courage has Lenny grabbing a loud and laughing Sean by the wrist after he says or does something that makes Lenny want to vomit his heart out, dragging Sean out of camp past the treeline, and kissing him square on the mouth, if only for his sanity. Sean, once the shock passes, goes, verbatim "oh. OH! well, ya couldve told me earlier!" before proceeding to snog Lenny senseless <3

Sean's first to fall:

It takes a minute for Sean to actually realize he has a crush, but then Lenny looks at him in a certain way, smiling and gazing at him with those shrewd eyes of his, shining in the light of the campfire, and Sean feels like he's been struck by fucking lightning.

Who has eyes like that anyway?? Sean will not be able to stop thinking about them, ever, now.

He's upping the ante on silly goofy behavior by 11, just to make Lenny smile. Even better if he laughs!!

He agrees to be tutored in reading just to spend time with Lenny and promptly spends all that time vacillating between doing his utmost to distract Lenny away from the lesson with jokes or trying very hard to listen to him just to get lost in his eyes. Lenny doesn't really mind but they get nothing done.

Sean has a fucking army on his ass in seconds; Arthur, John, Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Karen all seem to know out of NOWHERE and Sean has to sit through a fucking impromptu roast while wondering if all his closest friends are fucking mind-readers.

It's funny to them all at first but there IS some sympathy for poor Sean. Doesn't stop them from teasing him mercilessly.

Those that know him, know he's fucked when he switches the 'I love ya!' to 'Ya love me!' with Lenny. It's harder to say to the people he has actual persistent non-platonic feelings for, and almost self-soothing to instead say the reverse as a substitute.

Thing is; if Lenny having a crush is unsubtle, Sean is a fucking bull in a china-shop by comparison. Lenny sure as hell has his suspicions from very early on.

IT DOESN'T HELP THAT WHEN SEAN GETS DRUNK HE'S FLIRTING WITH LENNY IN THE EXACT SAME WAY HE DOES WITH THE GIRLS.

Lenny is very good-humored about the whole thing but it comparatively to when Lenny's the one with the crush, it sure as hell doesn't take very long from Sean realizing his crush to Lenny also realizing Sean's crush.

It helps Lenny getting over his own nerves, if nothing else.

Everyone in camp knows by the time Lenny decides to end Sean's suffering. They walk down to the river near camp, find a spot which is a bit more secluded, and Lenny very gently cups Sean's face, tells him to stop him if he doesn't want this, and kisses him. Sean is grinning like the cat who got the cream afterwards, and Lenny v fondly calls him a fool.

There's like several relieved sighs when they return to camp holding hands. Like Sean isn't gonna be way more of a menace WITH a boyfriend than he is without.

Here's some general headcanons too, bcz I LOVE thinking and talking abt this ship lmfaoo

They're both very talkative - very much the types to stay up all night talking, discussing their thoughts and feelings, camp gossip, their childhoods, the most fucked up death they saw besides their dads', their favorite colors, etc etc. They've had SEVERAL items thrown at them for waking up their fellow gangmembers in the dead of night.

Lenny reads as very acts of service-y to me. Throwing a blanket over Sean when he's knocked out, bringing him food or snacks when he's on guard shift, teaching him how to read, etc etc.

Meanwhile Sean is very touchy; he likes the reassurance of Lenny's physical presence, and it can be as small as just feeling the press of their thighs while sitting next to each other, but they're not exactly strangers to other things like hugging or holding hands.

In that vein it's not uncommon to find Lenny like, doing his own thing, reading or writing, with Sean amusing himself by tracing the lines in Lenny's free hand, or dozing against his back or something.

They have that honeymoon period where you can't find one without the other and they're hard to separate for anything. Sean complains if they're set to different tasks during a job. They manage to be regular about it eventually, but there's an acclimation period for both them and everyone surrounding them -- baby's first proper relationship, y'know?

They're still prone to joining each other on their guard shifts though, even if just for a little while.

You know that comic that's like "I'm gonna kiss you stupid" "But I'm already so dumb!" "Youre gonna be such an idiot when I'm through with you" That Is Very Them imo lolol

Aaaannddd this is already so long I think I'll stop now before we're here all night kmjnhbjnbh

[leantailean]

Hey for we need to talk about toko. Have you ever shared headcanons for their wedding/proposal. In my mind zuko would be proposing and it would something very intimate for just them. I also think theyd keep keep it secret for a little bit not wanting to rush. For the wedding i like to think it would be iroh walking toph down the aisle. Modern they would so there vows private cause they both seem like people who would want to have those moments just them. Let me know what you think.

Hello anon! Thank you for such an interesting question!

  Toph is the one who figured out her feelings for Zuko first. As someone more mature and more collected, she realized how much she loved him and admitted to herself that she is in love much earlier than Zuko.

Zuko's affection for Toph grows gradually, year after year, because she is the only one of his friends who spends the most time with him after the end of the war, stays in the palace for many months, and step by step, over the the next 5-6 years, becomes the closest person for him. he consults with her on political issues, she makes dirty jokes about his ministers and generals, And they are sparring when they have some free time.

Zuko, in his usual manner, is terribly silly and cannot understand his feelings for her. He is afraid of his budding love, afraid that he will ruin everything and lose his best friend. Toph notices his awkwardness, but thinks that she was too ugly and loud for him and made him tired of their friendship. Two idiots.

At some point, Zuko talks about his confused feelings to his uncle, and he, as usual, straightens his brains out. Iroh tells him he is risking losing her. And Zuko, confused with a blushy tomato-red face, catches Toph in the garden the day before her departure home and immediately dumps on her all his feelings. There are no emotions on Toph's face, and when Zuko begins to think about whether to wait until he is hit by a boulder or is it better to burn himself on the spot, Toph suddenly and sharply flies up on a block of earth and kisses him fiercely.

She never says yes. Everything is clear between them.

Toph never comes home again.

She moves from the guest rooms, which over all these years of her frequent visits have practically become her second home, where everything is covered with earth, into the chambers of the Firelord.

Nobody knows except Iroh.

They hide their relationship very carefully from their friends, so when Katara Aang and Sokka come to visit, they don't suspect anything.

Suki guesses.

Another year goes by like this.

And suddenly everyone receives letters inviting them to a wedding.

Zuko and Toph have two weddings.

Firelord’s wedding is a rare thing. Before almost every Firelord ascended the throne having been married already, and for a monarch wedding there was a special very long and solemn ritual. So one of them takes a whole day full of all kinds of ceremonies, worship and libations to spirits and ancestors, swearing oaths and other nonsense, so after 13 hours Zuko just wants to die, and Toph wants to kill someone. 

And the second wedding is when Toph, Zuko and 10 very close friends go far outside the city one early morning. It is a quiet  improvised wedding that is held by Avatar himself. There is traditional Fire nation and Earth Kingdom treats. In the evening everyone gather around the campfire. Iroh sings an old wedding song for a just married couple which no one of the rest of the company including Zuko has ever heard before. And finally late in the night when everyone is sleeping in their tents Toph and Zuko changed clothes and go far in the fields.

_____________