#this is...kind of a wild assortment of things

[the-flaneur]

love you fairy much (lh44)

pairing: dark fairy hunter!lewis hamilton x fairy!reader

summary: what does lewis love more than the chase for treasured fairy wings...

warnings: strangers to lovers and 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut ft. rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive!lewis, breeding kink, innocence kink, reader doesn't know anything about sex, corruption kink

wc: 5077

[masterlist] [requests]

you flitted through the sun-dappled forest on iridescent wings, your gossamer gown fluttering and shimmering with each graceful movement. as a curious fairy, you delighted in teasing the humans who dared to venture into your woodland realm. most were kind travellers, eager to learn more about the fairy realm, whilst others were strange merchants, looking to sell you bubbling potions and wicked spells - most of which you simply casted back their way, leaving them with spikes in their eyes or tendrils of vines wrapped tightly around their throats. just all fun things :)

today, you had donned an especially adorable outfit - a scrap of sheer fabric barely concealing your breasts and hugging your curves. the other fairies favoured similar styles, so you happily followed suit, wanting to blend in with your peers. with a tinkling laugh, you darted between the ancient trees, leaving shimmering trails of pixie dust in your wake.

your destination for the day was a secluded glade renowned for its vibrant wildflowers. legend whispered that these blossoms held mystical properties, granting the gatherer immense beauty and allure. with an air of mischief, you intended to collect an assortment of the rarest hues to adorn your fairy home and perhaps entice a handsome suitor or two. as you happened upon a gnarled root, you paused to admire the ethereal beauty surrounding you - lush ferns unfurled like emerald fans, while dainty wild orchids bloomed in pastel shades.

suddenly, the sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs echoed through the glade. your heart raced with trepidation as you sensed a powerful presence drawing near. as the sounds grow louder, you hide behind a wide oak tree, peeking out curiously. into view strode a tall, muscular man; he moved with the grace of a predator, his movements fluid and purposeful. 

his muscular frame was clad in tight leather armour that accentuated every sculpted curve. in his hand, he gripped a wicked-looking silver dagger, its blade glinting menacingly in the dappled light. his upper face was shielded by a skull mask and when he turned to look in your direction, you gasped silently at the dark brown pits of his eyes. the stranger paused in the centre of the glade, surveying his surroundings with a keen gaze. his eyes fell upon the vibrant wildflowers and he smiled, a flash of white teeth against his dark skin. he knelt down to examine a particularly beautiful blossom, his large hand gently cupping the delicate petals.

you watched as he tugged some flowers from the ground, before bundling them up into a bouquet - a gorgeous artistic masterpiece, if you said so yourself. you poked your head out more, wanting to take a closer look at the flowers he had gathered, but as you leaned forward, your wings brushed against the oak leaves above you. 

the man’s head snapped up, those intense brown eyes scanning the area until they locked onto your hiding spot. the man's deep voice rang out, echoing through the glade. "i know you're there, little one. come out and show yourself."

your heart skipped a beat as you realised the situation you were now in; lewis hamilton, the infamous fairy hunter, stood before you. his reputation most definitely preceded him - tales spoke of his unparalleled hunting skills and the countless fairy lives he'd claimed. and now here he was, mere feet away, those piercing brown eyes boring into you.

"well, well," he drawled, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "aren't you a pretty little thing? i've been searching for quite some time to find a specimen as... delectable as yourself." he took a step closer, his boots crunching against the forest floor, his hand spinning the dagger mockingly, while the other reached out towards you invitingly. 

your wings began to flutter rapidly as you decided to put some distance between yourself and the approaching hunter. with a burst of speed, you darted through the air, weaving between the trees in a dizzying dance. behind you, the sound of pursuit began - heavy footfalls crushing undergrowth, laboured breathing, the occasional curse muttered under lewis’ breath as he gave chase.

your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. part of you knew you should keep flying until you reached the safety of the deepest parts of the forest or your home, but another part, a traitorously dark voice in the back of your mind, whispered that getting caught might not be so bad. especially if it meant ending up in the arms of such a man.

just as you rounded a tree in the forest, a strong arm suddenly snaked out and wrapped around your waist, yanking you off course. you let out a startled yelp as you found yourself pressed against a solid wall of muscle, lewis’ body pinning you to a broad tree trunk. his free hand came up to wrap firmly around your throat, tilting your chin up to force you to meet his intense gaze.

"gotcha," he growled, a triumphant smirk playing across his lips. "i've been chasing you little minx for a while now. did you really think you could outfly me?" his thumb brushed along your neck as he leaned in closer, his warm breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. "now, what shall i do with my pretty little prize?"

“please don't eat me, i know you disgusting humans do that,” you whined, trying to wriggle out of his hold against the tree, but your wings were being scratched up, so you stopped. lewis threw his head back and laughed, a rich, deep sound that sent shivers down your spine. "eat you? oh no, sweet thing. i have much more...appetising plans for a delectable morsel like you." his grip on your throat tightened slightly as his other hand slid down to grab a handful of your plush rear, squeezing the supple flesh possessively.

“owww!” you yelped, trying to crane your neck to see what he was doing, “wait what? you won't eat me...can i go then?”

lewis’ eyes gleamed with mischief and barely restrained hunger as he drank in the sight of your trembling form pinned beneath him. "go? oh, i don't think so, my little fairy. now that i have you right where i want you..." his tongue flicked out to trace the delicate shell of your ear before he nipped at the lobe, sending jolts of sensation straight to your core. "i'm going to take my time exploring every inch of this exquisite body."

with his hand tracing down your collarbone, he ripped open the front of your gossamer gown, exposing your pert breasts to the cool forest air. the other released your rear to slide up your side, calloused fingers skimming over the swell of your breast through the thin fabric of your gown. he cupped the soft mound, thumbing the pebbled peak of your nipple until it strained against the gauzy material. "mmmm, so responsive. i bet you're aching for my touch, aren't you?"

blushing wildly, you watched with awe as lewis cupped your breasts, rubbing them together, “nobody had ever touched me...what does that mean? do humans like to touch other humans?”

lewis's grin turned predatory as he drank in the sight of your trembling form, so innocent yet ripe for corruption. his corruption. "oh, my sweet little lamb," he purred, voice dripping with dark promise. his large, work-roughened hands began their sinister exploration, calloused palms dragging along the silken expanse of your thighs. they crept higher and higher, pushing the fabric of your gown up inch by tantalizing inch until cool air kissed the heated skin of your most intimate areas.

"you have no idea what delights await you, do you?" lewis growled, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. one hand slid between your legs, cupping your mound possessively while the other wrapped around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse jump.

he captured your lips in a searing kiss, plundering your mouth with his tongue as he backed you further against the tree. his knee nudged insistently between your legs, applying delicious pressure to your most sensitive areas. breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips down the column of your throat, sucking and nibbling at the delicate flesh. "i'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he growled against your skin.

"what are you doing to me?" you whimpered breathlessly, slender fingers tangling in lewis' dark hair. despite your words of protest, you found yourself unconsciously grinding your hips against his, craving more of the friction he was giving you.

lewis' fingers delved deeper down your body, stroking along your slick folds with maddeningly light touches. he circled your clit with the pad of his thumb, the bundle of nerves throbbing under his ministrations. "that's it, sweetheart. don't fight it. let the pleasure consume you." 

leaning down, he drew one rosy peak into his hot mouth, suckling greedily as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud. his fingers never ceased their relentless assault on your aching sex, pumping two digits knuckle-deep into your tight channel while his thumb continued its merciless circling of your clit.

his mouth left a trail of open-mouthed kisses and love bites across your collarbone and down to your other breast, giving it equal attention. all the while, his thumb maintained its torturous pace on your clit, alternating between firm circles and quick flicks. the obscene sounds of your arousal filled the air - the slick glide of his fingers in your soaked folds, your breathy moans and whimpers of overwhelmed bliss.

you trembled and writhed against the tree, your untouched body overwhelmed by the intense sensations. your hips buck erratically, trying to take lewis' invading fingers deeper. "ah! ah! l-lewisss...too much...i c-can't..."

but even as you protest, your inner walls flutter and clench around the digits stretching you open, drawing them in further. the coil of tension winds tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. tears of overwhelming pleasure prick as you look up at lewis, completely lost to the ecstasy he's inflicting upon your body.

lewis drinks in the debauched sight of you - flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, full lips parted in silent cries of rapture. your response inflamed his desire to new heights. "shh, that's it baby. let go. i've got you," he crooned, voice rough with barely restrained lust. he redoubled his efforts, fingers pumping faster, harder, curling just right to hit that magic spot inside you with every thrust. his thumb pressed down hard on your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen nub.

sensing you were teetering on the edge, lewis sealed his lips over yours in a filthy kiss, swallowing your keening cries as he pushed you over the edge. his tongue plundered your mouth, mimicking the rhythm of his fingers fucking your spasming cunt.

lewis held you close as the waves of your first orgasm crashed over you, your untouched body convulsing in ecstasy. he gentled his touch, letting you ride out each aftershock, fingers still buried deep inside your fluttering sheath. as the last tremors faded, he slowly withdrew, bringing his glistening digits to his mouth to lick them clean with a low moan of appreciation.

"exquisite," he rumbled, dark eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction and renewed hunger. "the taste of your innocence is ambrosial." in one swift motion, he hoisted you up again, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he pinned you more firmly against the tree.

mumbling, you ask lewis about the pressure out your core, leaving you to dig your hands into his shoulders. lewis chuckled lowly, grinding his hips against yours in a slow, deliberate roll. the rigid heat of his cock nestled perfectly against your sensitive folds, stoking the embers of your spent arousal back to life. "this, my sweet fairy, is what happens when a man wants a woman as badly as i want you." he punctuated his words with another purposeful thrust against your folds, letting you feel every thick inch of him.

large hands slid down to cup your ass, kneading the supple flesh as he supported your weight effortlessly. leaning in, he nipped at your earlobe before whispering hotly, "it's called an erection, darling. when a man is so aroused, his cock fills with blood and stiffens, ready to claim his lover."

“claim?” you mumble surprised, your eyes wandering to the thick muscle jutting out from his hips. the thick, veiny member stood proudly erect, pulsating with an insatiable hunger. the bulbous head was a deep, rich purple, oozing with precum that glistened in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

the sight of lewis's imposing member took your breath away, its sheer size both intimidating and exhilarating. you could feel the heat radiating from his flesh, the musky scent of his arousal filling your nostrils and making your head spin with wanton desire.

lewis' eyes flashed with primal hunger at your innocent question. "yes, little one. to claim you, to make you mine in the most intimate way possible." he rolled his hips again, letting you feel the heavy throb of his desire. 

"i'm going to fill this tight little pussy with my cock," he growled against your racing pulse. "stretch you wide and deep until you're screaming my name. pump you full of my seed until it takes root in your womb." his free hand delved between your bodies to rub the broad head of his shaft through your slick folds, coating himself in your essence.

you shivered and gasped as lewis marked your tender skin, leaving a trail of reddening hickeys. thighs quivering around his waist - holding on very tightly you were - as jolts of electricity seem to shoot straight to your core from his teasing touches. "i-i don't understand..." you whimpered confusedly, even as you arched into his possessive hold. "what do you mean, 'until it takes root'?"

despite your innocence, lewis’ words ignites something deep within you, a yearning you don’t fully comprehend but desperately crave. your hips writhe instinctively, trying to draw him closer, to ease the ache building once more in your neglected sex. lewis groaned as your hips rolled against his, the friction delicious torture. he could feel your confusion warring with awakening need, your body responding to instincts older than time itself. "shh, don't think, just feel," he coaxed, voice a dark rumble. "when i say it will take root, i mean i'm going to fill this sweet cunt with so much cum, it might quicken in your belly."

he notched the broad crown of his cock against your entrance, letting you feel how he would split you open on his thick length. "breed you, make you swell with my child. claim you so thoroughly, everyone will know who you belong to." with a flex of his hips, he breached you shallowly, just the tip sinking into your scorching heat.

your high-pitched keen echoed through the forest as lewis' thick tip stretched your virgin entrance. muscles fluttered and clenched around the intrusion, trying to draw him deeper despite the initial burn of the stretch. tears of overwhelmed sensation pricked at the corners of your eyes but were quickly replaced by hazy bliss as you adjusted to the foreign feeling of fullness.

"fuck, so tight," lewis grunted, jaw clenched with the effort of holding back. he savored the exquisite squeeze of your silken walls for a long moment before slowly withdrawing until just the tip remained inside, then pushing forward again with a bit more force. each shallow thrust worked him deeper, your copious arousal easing the way as he claimed your innocence inch by excruciating inch.

he set a steady rhythm, working his thick shaft deeper into your clutching heat with each roll of his hips. the wet squelch of your sex filled the air, punctuated by your breathy moans and his guttural groans. he angled his thrusts to hit that spot inside you with every pass, determined to wring every drop of pleasure from your responsive body.

one large hand slid under your thigh to hitch your leg higher on his hip, opening you wider for his possession. the new angle allowed him to sink impossibly deeper, the coarse hairs at the base of his cock tickling your sensitive folds. "that's it, take it all like a good fairy," he praised huskily, sweat beading on his brow from the strain of holding back his release.

lewis' gaze flicked to your wings, now fluttering wildly with the intensity of your shared passion. the delicate membranes seemed to pulse in time with your racing heartbeat, a visible manifestation of your growing pleasure. "your wings are so responsive, little fairy," he murmured appreciatively, reaching out to trace a finger along the leading edge. "they quiver like the rest of you, just desperate for more."

emboldened by your reaction, he captured one wing in his large hand, stroking and caressing the sensitive material. his touch sent sparks of electricity dancing across your nerves, adding a new dimension to the overwhelming sensations consuming you. at the same time, he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving into you with deep, powerful strokes that had your back arching off the tree trunk.

lewis groaned deeply, feeling you grip him like a vice as he drove his cock deeper into your willing body. your desperate pleas for more only spurred him on, his hips snapping forward with increased ferocity. "yes, take it all, little fairy," he rasped, one hand reaching up to roughly palm your bouncing breast. he pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers, the added stimulation causing you to keen loudly.

lewis leaned in, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss as he continued to pound into you, his thick shaft stroking your cervix with each powerful thrust. lewis growled into the kiss, the taste of your submission fueling his desire. his tongue plundered your mouth, dominating and claiming every inch. the wet sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echoed in the forest as he continued his relentless assault on your senses.

"yes, scream for me, you filthy girl," he grunted, angling his hips to hit that special spot inside you with every deep stroke. his hand on your breast pinched harder, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core. "this greedy cunt was made for my cock, wasn't it? made to be stretched and used for my pleasure." lewis broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, biting and sucking dark marks into your skin. he wanted everyone to see, to know that you belonged to him now - his personal fairy to ruin as he saw fit.

lost in a haze of lust, you could only moan brokenly as lewis took you with animalistic fervour. each powerful thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your trembling body, stoking the inferno building in your core.

"yes, yes, yes! don't stop!" you wailed, fingernails raking down his back hard enough to leave red welts. your hips bucked wildly to meet his, taking him impossibly deeper. the coil of tension wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

"i'm... i'm going to..." you panted desperately, inner muscles starting to convulse around his pistoning shaft. tears of overwhelming sensation leaked from the corners of your eyes as you teetered on the knife's edge of release, "please, lewis! use me, ruin me, i'm yours!"

"come for me, now!" lewis barked, his voice a dark, commanding growl. he punctuated his demand with a particularly brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside your spasming heat. his fingers dug into the meat of your hips hard enough to bruise as he held you in place, using your body like his personal cock sleeve. lewis' own release approached rapidly, balls drawing up tight as your velvety walls rippled along his length.

"that's it, milk my cock like the desperate cumslut you are!" he snarled through gritted teeth, hips snapping erratically as he chased his high. "scream my name as i fill this needy cunt with my seed!"

"lewis!" you screamed, back arching sharply as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. your vision whited out, every nerve ending igniting with mind-numbing pleasure. your pussy clamped down hard on his pistoning cock, rhythmically squeezing and massaging his shaft as if trying to wring out every last drop of his cum.

lewis let out a feral roar as your pussy vise-gripped his cock, the rhythmic squeezing and gushing flood triggering his own explosive climax. with a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside your spasming channel. his heavy balls drew up tight and then pulsed as he began to paint your insides white with his seed.

"fuck yes! take it all you perfect little fairy slut!" he bellowed, hips jerking erratically as spurt after spurt of hot, virile cum pumped directly into your unprotected womb. the sheer volume was staggering - it seemed like he would never stop coming, filling you to overflowing with his potent essence. 

even as the last weak spurts dribbled out, lewis kept you pinned, ensuring not a single drop escaped your stuffed hole.

as the final tremors of your shared climax faded, lewis slumped against you, pinning you to the tree with his larger frame. both of you were panting heavily, chests heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. a fine sheen of sweat coated your skin, making it glisten in the dappled forest light.

slowly, almost reluctantly, he pulled out of your abused hole with a wet squelch. a river of pearly white semen immediately began to leak out, dripping obscenely down your thighs. he watched in satisfaction as your gaping, twitching cunt tried valiantly to close around nothing, still fluttering like your wings, weakly from the aftershocks.

"there we go," he rumbled, voice rough with spent passion. "marked you inside and out now. everyone will smell my claim on you."

boneless and sated, your legs wobbled precariously as you slumped against the rough bark of the tree trunk, barely able to hold yourself upright. every movement sent pleasant aftershocks zinging through your nerve endings, a delicious ache settling deep in your core - a physical reminder of the thorough claiming you had just endured.

your chest heaved with ragged breaths, sweat-dampened skin glistening in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. your wings hung limply at your sides, the delicate membranes twitching occasionally.

lewis's words finally penetrated the haze of post-coital bliss, causing a pretty flush to bloom across your cheeks. you ducked your head shyly, suddenly acutely aware of your nakedness and vulnerability. the way he said 'claim', so possessively and definitively, sent a shiver down your spine.

"i... i mean, we can't just..." you started to protest weakly, but your voice trailed off uncertainly. 

lewis chuckled lowly, a deep, rumbling sound of masculine satisfaction. his eyes glittered with amusement and undisguised desire as he drank in the sight of you - flushed, dishevelled, and marked with the evidence of your coupling. finding your sudden coyness utterly endearing after the shameless way you'd begged for his cock mere moments before, he reached out to gently but firmly tilt your chin up with the tip of his finger.

"oh but we can, little fairy," he purred, his voice a low, seductive rasp dripping with smug male pride. "and we did. your sweet, needy little cunt is absolutely drenched in my seed right now. there's no use denying the truth - your body knows who it belongs to." tracing his fingers through the mess leaking from your slit, he gathered a generous amount of your combined cum, bringing the slick digits to your face, pressing them against your closed lips. a breathy whimper escaped you, the intimate taste of your combined juices sending a shockwave of renewed desire straight to your core. your tongue darted out instinctively, lapping at the offered digits with kittenish licks. the heady, musky flavour burst across your taste buds - an erotic cocktail of your most intimate essences mingling together.

"mmmm, that's it baby girl," lewis groaned appreciatively, his half-lidded eyes dark with lust as he watched you, "taste how perfectly we are together. how your greedy little holes were made to milk my cock."

he pushed his fingers deeper past your lips, coating your tongue thoroughly before withdrawing with a wet pop. a string of saliva connected his fingertips to your bottom lip briefly before breaking.

you hums around his fingers, eyes fluttering shut, savouring the taste. when you open them again, they're hazy with rekindling desire, pupils blown wide and dark with need. slowly, almost hypnotically, you begin to suckle his fingers clean, hollowing cheeks and swirling your tongue around each digit. lewis groans, eyes darkening once again as he watches you clean his fingers. the sight of your pink little tongue lapping at his digits, coupled with the lewd sounds you make, has his spent cock already starting to stir with interest once more.

"that's it, good girl," he praises huskily, pressing his fingers deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth. "such an eager little thing, aren't you? already ready for more." his other hand slides down to palm your ass possessively, kneading the soft globe and pulling you flush against him. you can feel the growing bulge of his reawakening erection nudging insistently against your belly.

“i think this greedy body of yours needs another thorough claiming,” lewis rumbles, voice thick with renewed desire.

“wait...do i need to tell the fairy elders about this?” you gasp, placing a hand against his thick biceps.

lewis paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his handsome features at your question before it was quickly replaced by a wicked, devilish grin. he leaned in close, his lips brushing maddeningly against the delicate shell of your ear as he spoke in a low, conspiratorial murmur.

"tell the elders? oh darling, where would be the fun in that?" he purred, his hot breath fanning across your sensitive skin and eliciting a full-body shudder from you. "no, i think what transpired between us here should remain our own special secret, don't you agree?"

as if to punctuate his words, lewis’ large hand slid from the plush curve of your ass, tangling his fingers in the strands of your hair.

lewis’ lips curved into a wicked smirk against your skin as he continued his sensual assault, punctuating each word with a nip or kiss. "besides," he purred, voice muffled and low, "i have a feeling you rather enjoyed our little rendezvous. the way you mewled so sweetly, begged so prettily to be stuffed full..."

his wandering hand drifted higher, fingertips ghosting feather-light over the swell of your breast, teasing the sensitive skin. lewis pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes blazing with mischief and barely contained hunger. they raked over your face hungrily, taking in every detail of your debauched expression.

"i bet a naughty part of you wants to keep this our deliciously dirty secret too," he rumbled, voice dropping to a seductive growl.

“to sneak away and let me ravish you whenever the urge strikes us both,”

“yes lewis...when can i see you again then?” you gasp, grinding against this thigh once more

lewis groaned deeply, a guttural sound of pure masculine need, as you breathed his name like a prayer. your obvious desperation only stoked the flames of his own raging desire. he bucked his hips forward, grinding the thick, rigid line of his erection against your quivering stomach. even through the thin barrier of his trousers, you could feel the scorching heat of him, the impressive girth straining against the confines of the fabric.

"soon, my insatiable little minx," he promised darkly, his voice a low, rough rasp edged with barely restrained hunger. "very, very soon." lewis’ grip on your hair tightened possessively as he held your gaze with smouldering intensity. "meet me at the western border of the woods tomorrow night."

lewis captured your lips in a searing, dominating kiss, his tongue plunging deep to claim every inch of your mouth. he poured all his ravenous hunger and dark promises into the passionate embrace, kissing you until your knees went weak and your head spun with dizzying desire. when he finally released you, you were left panting and aching, your lips swollen and tingling from the intensity of his kiss.

"until then," lewis murmured huskily against your kiss-bruised lips, giving your plump bottom lip a sharp, teasing nip. his eyes glinted with mischief and wicked intent. "try not to slip your hand between your thighs too many times while imagining it's me touching you. i know how badly this needy little body craves my attention."

you tilt your head, batting your lashes up at him with wide-eyed innocence even as a faint blush colours your cheeks, “touching myself? what's that, lewis?” your voice coming out breathy and uncertain, belying the molten heat pooling low in your belly at lewis’ heated words and bold touches.

he chuckles darkly at your innocence, shaking his head in amused disbelief. he leans in close, voice lowering to a sinful whisper, “oh you sweet, naive little thing. touching yourself means playing with this pretty pink pussy,” he purrs, cupping your mound possessively, “...and rubbing these soft petals until you're writhing and moaning, begging for release,”

lewis grinds the heel of his palm against your clothed sex, applying delicious pressure, “i know you'll be tempted to do just that, imagining it's my hands on you instead. my fingers filling you, stretching you…”

but he dips his head to nip at your earlobe, tugging it gently with his teeth, “but you'd better not, understand? this greedy cunt belongs to me now,”

you nod eagerly, watching as lewis’ pupils blow out once against with darkened lust. he smirks at your breathy agreement, pleased by your submission. he rewards you with a firm grind of his palm against your core, relishing the needy whimper it elicits.

“until tomorrow night then, my insatiable little fairy,” he growls, voice dripping with dark promise, “dream of me...and try to behave until i can get my hands on you again,”

lewis turns to leave, pausing to look back over his shoulder with a roguish wink, “don't keep me waiting too long, sweetheart. you know how impatient i get...and how thoroughly i punish naughty girls who make me wait,”

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon @princessminjikwon

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[darcyolsson]

assorted thoughts on a sea change:

the long ass epigraphs (plural) and the endless shakespeare quotes.... one thing about cc she's making sure we're well-educated on the classics!!! even when she's literally just writing yaoi she's still putting some literary education in the middle of it like she's feeling a dog a pill by wrapping it in meat. never change miss clare

speaking of dogs, shoutout to mr oscar wilde for actually being a main character in this

will & jem parabatai bond mentioned 1000 killed 10000000 injured

sylvain having a faded parabatai mark in the exact same spot as will does, presumably bc sylvain also does not think he will ever get married, albeit for completely different reasons 10000000 more killed 1000000000000000 more injured, one thing about will he haunts every corner of tsc like it's his job!!!!!!!!

speaking of herondales, matthew falling in love with a guy who looks exactly like james is crazy work. matthew constantly explicitly saying that he reminds him of james is crazier work. sylvain having a nickname for matthew in his native language just like james does is the craziest work, i need to sit down

also him being a verlac is a great detail. Designated Gay Family 💛

i'm kind of obsessed with sylvain casually mentioning he likes men to this guy he has a crush on and matthew not replying with "me too" or something but instead with "i was a teenage alcoholic". never change king

i did think the queen of the night was going to be camille but then it wasnt booooo.... i miss you camille. come back

can't believe there was a vampire asking matthew if he wants to be one of them and matthew rejecting it... she's mocking us for the downworlder matthew theories 😭

and finally, i'm glad we got a story where the weight of kit's death was so well-explored, this healed something in me <3

[whatifmommylovedyou]

Maybe I can request… Agatha Harkness fixation with Reader because Reader is friendly and sweet so Agatha decides Reader is going to be only hers

The thing is… the thing is, you've always worked hard at being nice.

Maybe you're not special in any particular way, but you have done your best to be Nice, and that has to be good for something?

It's gotten the eye of a particular person - a witch, and you're fairly sure that she's a witch due to… well, a whole bunch of things. There's the lights that occasionally sprout from her fingers, or the way she always happens to get what she wants at the coffee shop, she never has to wait in line, things always seem to work out for her just so.

And also she's just. Floating outside your window. Floating like a mermaid, her hair all wavy around her face, purple trailing after her.

You don't know how she found your apartment, though.

She knocks on your window, and what are you supposed to do but open it?

"Hello there," she says, and she's smiling at you, that secret 'you and I are both in on the joke' smile that you can't help but smile back at.

"Hi," you say awkwardly, and your smile is… stilted, because… why?!

"I thought I'd check up on you," she says brightly, and she's got her hands shoved into her pockets. She's wearing a nice pair of charcoal slacks and a frankly admirable long coat, and there's a slightly wild look to her that's making you nervous.

"Oh," you say.

"It wasn't very hard to find your place," she adds, almost as an afterthought, and now she's walking through your small living room. Her boots sink into your carpet, and you wonder if you should tell her to take them off. You've got a little shoe rack by your door, but… what do you do for people coming in through the window?

"Um," you say. What are you supposed to actually say?

"I haven't seen you in a few days," she says casually. "I missed you. Thought I'd see if you were doing alright."

"Thank you," you say awkwardly. "I've been okay." You give her what you hope is a convincing smile. "It's just been, y'know, a little busy, with one thing and another." It's the time of year when work is hectic, and you've just about got the energy to go to work, come home, and vegetate.

"That girl was visiting," Agatha says, and now she's inspecting your bookcase, squinting at the assorted titles. You want to apologize for the mess of it, or maybe for some of the more embarrassing titles, but…

Well, you're still trying to wrap your head around the fact that she's here in the first place.

"Girl?" You frown, trying to keep track.

"With the bad dye job?" She's turned around, and she's frowning harder. "Horrible kaftan?"

"Oh," you say. "That's Maggie. She's my neighbor. She just broke up with her boyfriend, she was feeling down, we watched a movie, shared a pint of ice cream."

"So you've got time to have your neighbor over, but not to come see me?" She's crossed her arms, but she seems… taller.

It's making you nervous.

"I, uh. I didn't realize that it was so important to you that we meet up for coffee," you say awkwardly. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have, uh." You lick your lips. "I'll be in tomorrow," you add. "I've liked it too," you add, and it is true!

Who doesn't like having coffee with a hot, slightly unsettling witch? And okay, the way she trains her eyes on you will sometimes give you the creeps, but you can't deny it's kind of… nice.

All that work you've put into being nice, finally paying off in some little way.

"Don't bother," she says, and she steps closer to you.

You take a step back.

She takes another step closer.

Your back hits your kitchen table, and now you're standing here nervously, trying not to fiddle with your hands. She's close enough you can feel the warmth from her body, and the hem of her coat is brushing against the tops of your feet.

"How about we have a more… private meet up?" Her hand on your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with her.

You lick your lips, nod, and she leans forward, her lips so close to your own, her hot breath washing over your face. "And sweetheart?"

You manage to squeak some acknowledgment.

"No more visits from whatever her name is," she says. "I don't like sharing." And then she kisses you, and it's a little bit like you're flying yourself.

[casiia]

༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; deep breath.

warnings .: x reader, afab! reader, suggestive (just a kiss but still), mdni 18+, piercer simon, use of y/n, unedited.

.: masterlist.

the rhythmic hum of tattoo machines and the faint sound of chatter filled the air as you stepped into the studio; ghost canvas. you had booked an appointment with simon riley, intrigued by his work. known for his painless piercings and intricate fine-line tattoos, making him very well-known in the industry.

you had originally booked an appointment for another ear piercing, a helix that would go with the other assortments of jewelry already shining your ear. excitement and nervousness mingle through your stomach as you glance around the studio.

an ambient light flickers around each furniture corner, keeping the place dim and allowing natural sunlight to filter in through the sunroof. the walls were adorned with vibrant artwork, most of which are messy and clean-looking oil paintings. various band tapestries also hung from the walls, rock bands; nirvana, metallica, and deftones being a majority of the decor. 

you settled into the waiting area after checking in, and the receptionist behind the counter shot you a kind smile and let you know that your piercer, simon, would be ready soon. you had been a little late for your appointment, struggling to find parking, and he had taken another client waiting for you.

you shifted in your seat, the leather cool against your bare skin. you pulled the hem of your skirt down, before winding your hands in your lap. your eyes wandered around the room, and you couldn’t help but admire the diverse clientele that flowed in and out of the studio. each person was leaving or coming in with a unique mark, a testament to simon’s expertise. 

the longer you waited, the more nervous you began to feel. you had gotten piercings before, but each time you found yourself chewing on your lip in anticipation. pain was never your friend, and your tolerance for it was always low ever since you were a kid. tears would well in your eyes with every papercut you got, even now as an adult. 

“y/n? simon’s ready for you.” the receptionist calls out, guiding you into another small room. she looks at your fidgeting fingers and gives you another reassuring smile. “no reason to be nervous. just sit tight for a second, and he’ll be here to show you our selection of jewelry.” she encourages before shutting the door behind her and leaving you in the small room. 

it’s decorated very similarly to the lobby, except instead of oil paintings, there’s a various amount of skull decor littering the room. paintings, sculptures, and in a glass case on a counter sat a small dinosaur skull.

you felt a chill run down your spine; there was almost no color in the secluded room. everything was dull black and white, and the walls were even painted a dark gray. the only thing that stood out was you, sitting on the large black chair in your bright little pink skirt. 

you’re pressing your thighs together, your legs absentmindedly swinging as you wait for simon. you had heard about him from instagram, the wild comments that raved about his work while some raved about his looks. curiosity got the best of you and with his studio only a couple blocks from your place, what was there to lose?

“are you my two o'clock?”

you hadn’t even realized that the door opened, a tall man stepping inside and shutting it with a soft click. even with you sitting on the elevated chair, he loomed over you. his tall build complimented with muscles that bulged out of his tight-fitting black shirt. 

“i am. y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” you look up at him with a friendly smile, sticking your hand out for him to shake. when he does, you find yourself biting the inside of your cheek.

romance comedies always made you laugh; you never believed in love at first sight or a spark that ran between the two lovers when they first touched. but you couldn’t help but like how your hand fitted in his, his palm warm and much larger than yours. you could feel his calloused fingers squeezing your soft skin, an intimate touch that made you want more.

“simon.” the corner of his mouth barely turns up, but he’s looking down at you with a cocky look. he squeezes your hand again, and you're reminded that you should have let go by now. 

a blush paints your cheeks, causing you to look away from him and down at your lap. he clears his throat, and you can tell he wants to laugh, which only adds to your embarrassment.

“what kind of piercing are you planning on getting today?” he asks, going over to his jewelry display and bringing it to you. your eyes flicker into the clear box before looking back at him.

“just an ear piercing, a helix.”

he nods, reaching over and pushing your hair back. he looks at your ears, already littered with piercings, and he only nods again. “let me know which stud you’d like, and i’ll get it sanitized for you.”

as you continue to look through the assortments of jewelry, a frown forms on your lips. not to say that you were picky, but nothing seemed to catch your eye. the various amounts of gold and titanium all the same, dull in color, and wouldn’t match the theme of your ears. 

simon glances over your features as you’re focused on the display in front of him; you are beautiful and unlike any of his other clients. 

“i think i may have something that you’d like,” simon says, his voice sounding softer than before. he almost grins when you look up at him, your head tilting to the side in confusion. 

he’s kicking himself for wondering why you’re making him all comfortable; he was never one to want to be close to his clients. he’s leaning into you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear and tilting your head with his thumb. his eyes linger on your lips, and he wants to push his thumb into your mouth, just wanting to see how you’d look. although quickly, he turns his attention back to your ears, noticing the array of star and moon jewelry that piece together perfectly. 

“i knew i was saving this for someone,” he mumbles, pulling away from you. he steps back over to his cabinet of jewelry, putting the clear case of boring studs back before grabbing a new one. “do you like any of these?”

your attention flickers down to the mini box he held in one hand, the case no larger than a ring box. inside sat a small star stud, its coloring a soft rose gold. instantly a smile finds your lips, and you’re nodding up at him with thankful eyes. “i love it.”

“great, give me a second, and i’ll get it cleaned up for you.”

as simon turns around to sanitize the stud, your gaze is glued to his back. the way his muscles flex under his shirt with every subtle move or the intricate tattoos that litter over his arms. it doesn’t look like he has any piercings, his face, and ears completely untouched. makes you wonder why he’s also taken in the profession of piercing; from just a glance, anyone can tell he’s much more into the art of inking. 

silence fills the room as you patiently wait; only the muffled sound of rock music from the lobby eases your nerves. he turns back to you, snapping black gloves onto his hands. “how is your pain tolerance? are you prone to fainting?” he asks, his tone almost monotone as he repeats the same precautionary questions that he has to ask every day. 

“i never faint, but i’m not too good with pain.” you reply, your hands now gripping the edge of your seat beside your thighs. “kinda why i booked with you, heard you make ‘em painless.”

he gives you a reassuring smile, pride starting to swell in his chest. “s’that why you booked with me?” simon couldn’t help but feel grateful that you’d made an appointment with him because of his skill and not his looks. most of his clients booked with him because of his reputation of being attractive, and even if you silently agreed with them, the fact that you didn’t voice it and belittle his career surprised him pleasantly. 

you nodded, swallowing thickly when he took a step closer. he’s telling you to relax, that he’s just gonna mark you, but you only find your breath hitching when he invades your personal space. he knocks your knees apart, making you spread your legs for him as he stands between them. he has your chin held between his fingers in one hand while the other is pushing your hair back again and pressing the tip of the toothpick into your skin, leaving a dot of purple ink at the top of your ear.

you can feel his warm breath fanning against your cheek, and your thighs try to close together, squeezing his hips. you have one hand on his chest, balancing him in an attempt to distance yourself. your other hand is gripping at the hem of your skirt, pulling it down as it rides up from your spread legs. 

“tell me if you like it.” simon whispers right by your ear, seeming to forget about the proximity. and just like before, he’s pulling away from you. allowing you to suck in a shaky breath. 

you didn’t think that this would be so intimate, and you wondered if simon was always like this or if he just liked the way you trembled beneath him. 

he hands you a small mirror and motions for you to look at the mark, “i wouldn’t recommend moving it, it would clash with your other jewelry.”

you agree with him, handing his mirror back and shifting once more in your seat. as much as you wanted him to lean into you again, to feel his breath across your face, you wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. your attraction towards him is growing far too fast.

he hums, stepping towards you again, in the same spot between your legs. “lean back for me, sweetheart.” he mumbles, pushing you down into the seat. he’s bending over you and wiping your ear with an alcohol wipe, a cocky smirk on his lips when he feels your thighs squeezing into his hips again. 

the nickname catches you off guard, and now with you stuck underneath him, your nerves begin to eat at you. not because you’re worried about the pain or the piercing but because he’s playing with you now. 

“alright sweetheart, you’re only gonna feel a pinch. are you ready?” simon’s pulling back and looking at you, his eyes tracing your expression and looking for any sign of regret or hesitation. 

“i’m ready,” you mumble, your palms pressing into your stomach. you’re a little nervous, but you don’t find yourself running away. he’s tilting your head again, pressing into you with a babble of reassuring statements. 

“deep breath in for me.”

before you know it, the needle glides through your ear with minimal discomfort. it’s been your most painless piercing yet, and you understand why simon has the reputation that he does. 

“good job, love. did so good.” he praises you, sliding the jewelry into place and leaning back to look at you. his adoration fuels an ache between your legs, and you whine just under your breath. 

simon pulls off his latex gloves and presses his hands into your seat, dangerously close to your thighs. “how’d that feel?”

“amazing, you’re really good at what you do,” you say, sitting up in your seat. you tilt your head with a smirk, realizing that he still has you caged into the cushiony chair, unable to maneuver away.

he grins at your words, his tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek before he licks his lips. the ball of his tongue piercing, shining in the light only for a second. “thank you.” 

you don’t even register his appreciation, your mind clouding with the thought of his hidden piercing. “did it hurt?” unable to resist the urge, you voice your curiosity. 

“hm?” simon hums, a chuckle spilling from his lips. “when i fell from heaven?”

you snort, shaking your head. “no, your tongue piercing.” 

simon riley’s eyes meet yours with a mischievous glint; he flashes you a confident smile. his lips parted slightly, revealing the small but distinctive piece of jewelry. you find yourself leaning closer to him, watching as he teasingly slides the ball of his tongue piercing against his teeth. the sound, a gentle click, echoed in the intimate space.

“no,” he mutters, lifting your chin as you lean into him. his free hand going to your hip, squeezing it softly. 

“w-what does it feel like?” 

he hesitates momentarily, seemingly torn between professionalism and the impulse to share a more personal moment. he knows that his attraction is not one-sided, the way you’ve been eyeing him was an obvious sign. you didn’t shy away from his extra touches or the nicknames he whispered in your ear.

“want to find out?” he’s leaning in impossibly closer now, his lips ghosting over yours. and when you nod, he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. 

his grip on your chin tightens, his tongue pushing past your lips and into your mouth. you gasp softly, the feeling of his cold piercing rubbing against your tongue a feeling you’ve never experienced before. you moan into his mouth when his large hands travel down to your waist, tugging you into his chest; your legs wrap around his waist, and you shamelessly swallow his tongue as he shoves it down your throat. 

a knock at the door pulls the two of you apart, breathy gasp and panting quietly filling the room. simon still has that cocky smirk painted on his lips, his chest heaving as he pulls away, “that’s what it feels like.”

he answers his door, leaving you a flustered mess; you quickly gather your things and grab your bag from the floor. you can hear his receptionist telling him that his next appointment is here, and you feel so stupid. reality knocking the air from your lungs, you had just kissed simon, a stranger that you’d only met a couple minutes ago. you shouldn’t expect more, he merely answered a question that you asked. 

before you can push past him and out the room, he grabs your wrist, his grip tight. “wait,” simon sighs loudly, pulling you back into him before sliding his business card into the waistband of your skirt, “call me if you have any…questions.”

AN: republishing this with no changes because oh well, i also love being delusional cuz i lowkey fell in love with my piercer.

[erbiumspectrum]

Subatomic particles from a chemist's point of view - part I: the electron

This proposition actually came second in my poll, but it still had quite a lot of votes + I really wanted to write it, so here it is. Initially, I was going to make a single post, but when I finished writing the part about the electron I thought it was getting a tad long. I decided splitting this post might make it easier to digest :)

Peeking inside the atom

What is a subatomic particle? As the name hints, it’s any particle smaller than an atom. This means that electrons, protons, and neutrons all fall into this category. Protons and neutrons are made of quarks and there are also many different subatomic particles that the relentless researchers of CERN keep on cooking up, but I’m not going to talk about them because do I look like a physicist to you? Let them get excited (and despaired) about the wild assortment of the little guys making up the Standard Model. I’ll stick to the particles that chemistry finds especially important: electrons, protons, and neutrons.

Electron

Ah yes, chemistry’s specialest guy, the rockstar of this science: the electron. Arguably the most important particle for chemistry. If you’ve taken high school science then I don’t need to explain why that’s so, but just in case you actually slept through those classes (shame on you) I have one word for you: bonds. Okay, maybe two words will work better here: chemical bonds.

Chemical bonds

Atoms bind together to make the gaseous oxygen we breathe, the sucrose that dissolves in our coffee and the caffeine in said coffee, the proteins that build your body, and the ibuprofen we all worship using electrons. In fact, if chemistry is the study of matter and the reactions and changes it can undergo, then there is no chemistry without electrons. Chemistry exists because electrons do what they do.

So what do they do? Again, even if you never went any further than high school science classes, you probably remember that atoms are made up of shells (sort of like an onion or an ogre only it’s a stupidly complicated onion) with a nucleus in the middle. Those shells are made up of subshells and subshells are made up of orbitals. Phew. Within shells sit the electrons, but it’s the outermost ones that make chemists all excited (or despaired), because they’re the ones taking part in chemical reactions and forming chemical bonds. We call them valence electrons.

Valence electrons can do all sorts of things to make atoms form molecules. The valence electrons of two separate atoms can bind them together by mixing their orbitals and then sitting there in the single smoothie of the new orbital, now shared by both of the atoms. This process is called hybridization and the bond that’s formed here is called the covalent bond.

Actually, you get two new orbitals or rather as many as there were before this mixing and shuffling. Hybridization is a relatively difficult concept for newbies though, so don’t worry about that.

However, some atoms are greedy and they aren’t willing to share their electrons with anyone. They can form chemical bonds by stealing other atoms’ electrons and turning into ions: and thus turning those other – more generous – atoms into ions as well. This we call the ionic bond. There’s a third option too, chosen readily by metals because metals are commies: the metallic bond. Atoms forming this kind of bond stick together thanks to an electron “cloud” made up of the valence electrons of all those atoms, permeating the lattice this creates and conducting electricity (because they’re called electrons for a reason, right?).

Properties of the electron

Charge: negative one elementary electric charge, AKA -1.602×10^(−19) C (thank you Mr. Millikan).

Mass: 9.109 ×10^(−31) kg (uwu).

Radius: are you out of your mind?

I mean. Theoretical / particle physicists are very much concerned with figuring out the radius of the electron. Good for them! But it doesn’t matter here.

Look. There’s a handful of things that they drill into your head during a chemistry degree: no food in the lab; safety goggles on or I’ll fucking kill you; you only get to keep your dignity until you splash yourself with acid; there is no god, there is only Atkins; everything is a model; and finally – THE ELECTRON IS NOT JUST A PARTICLE OKAY it’s not a teeny tiny marble orbiting the nucleus going wheee!, it’s a quantum bastard that interferes with itself like a wave, then shoots across the apparatus you thought was clever like a particle once you set a trap, it’s an indecisive, secretive, sly asshole that makes chemistry, at its very core, a quantum nightmare of inhuman integrals, spheres, and some donut-shaped absurdities in the place of the onion-like atom model you know from school, I mean look at this thing for god’s sake

Anyway.

We don’t know the exact radius of the electron. Estimates have been made but no final answer. Why? Please ask a physicist. Your resident tumblr chemist signing off for now.

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette didn't particularly get the idea of music translating into words. To her, music was music and words were words; you could mix the two in a song to evoke more emotion, but that wasn’t the same as one becoming the other.

That was the reason she was there, she supposed. Luka had intrigued her with his offer, and if anyone could make her believe it or learn something new about music, it was him. Sure, he was also kind of handsome, had soft blue eyes, and a dazzling smile, but she was there for a potential new understanding of the creative process, nothing more.

Not that there would've been anything wrong with going for both, of course.

She looked at the note once more to make sure she was at the right park. Luka's handwriting was unique and identifiable as his: not wild, but not "standard" either, while still being totally readable. It made sense for someone who had to write a lot.

After triple-checking to be certain, she stepped out onto the smooth walkway leading in, looking around for the fluffy black-and-blue hair she'd met only a week ago. There were some couples with little picnics set out that she couldn't help feeling jealous of, but she tried to ignore them.

She heard Luka before she actually saw him, which was a weird thought. A quick set of notes from a guitar had made her turn, spotting him sitting on a bench in the pleasant shade of some trees and waving at her.

She smiled, waving back and walking over to him. "Hey, Luka! How—" She stopped in place, catching herself before she could properly ask him. She raised the cellophane bag in her hands to her mouth, biting into the side to both free her hands and keep herself quiet, then made a flurry of hand movements to ask how he was doing.

He blinked rapidly in surprise, then gently rested the neck of his guitar on the bench so he could sign in return. His gestures were more natural than hers - had she been signing to herself, it might as well have been the language of aliens - so she could easily tell what he was asking.

"Yff—" She brought her hand back up to pull the bag out from her mouth, then answered proudly, "Yes, I learned a little bit over the weekend!" She waved her free hand from side-to-side like she was casting a spell, despite the sheepish look on her face. "I might've forgotten how to sign 'yes', but I knew what you were signing! That's something, right?"

The dazzling smile that she remembered, showing just a little bit of teeth but not too much, had returned. Luka nodded at her, pulling out a notepad and pencil from his pocket to write while she got herself settled in. He'd already left enough room on the bench for her to sit, so she took up the empty space and got comfortable.

He went to hand her his notepad, but she lifted up the cellophane bag first, giving it a shake to show off the assortment of macarons, cookies, and candies inside. "Here! Trade me."

He visibly perked at the offer, their fingers brushing as he took it from her.

She only realized what she'd done when his notepad was already in her hand, hurrying to say, "Oh! I put that in my mouth without thinking, didn't I? You don't have to—"

He'd already loosened the string so he could open it, grabbing one of the candies and unwrapping it before popping it into his mouth. He'd clearly heard her, but it was quickest to eat one to prove his point rather than tell her it was fine.

Plus, she had one of his forms of communications in her hands, so that had been out. She looked down to read what he'd written.

You didn't have to dress up for this, but you look nice. I hope this is enough shade for you.

She blushed at the first line. It was one thing to be complimented verbally, but in writing, she could read it over and over again. She checked Luka's reaction to see if he had any regrets about it, but he was cool as a cucumber, chewing on the candy she'd given him whilst getting the guitar back in his hands.

The second line was more confusing to where she had to actively dig through her memories to think of what it could be referring to. She did recall sitting down with him after the chaos had settled down, having some juice together, and her rambling unnecessarily long about everything from her job to—

"Wait—" she began in realization, "was this all because I complained about how hot it was that day?! That was one thing in all the nonsense I was talking about!"

He shrugged, smiling innocently and holding his hand out for his notepad. She pouted, feeling like he was being unfair with how sweet he was to someone he'd barely just met, but relented and gave it up to him. She just couldn't quite believe it, having felt so bad for how chatty she'd been with him, but he'd apparently paid attention to every word of it.

She wasn't sure if that was more or less embarrassing than being ignored the whole time.

"O-okay, so..." She looked down sheepishly at his guitar, trying to change the topic as casually as possible. "How are we going to do this? You showing me how you talk with music?"

One hand still holding the guitar's neck, he flipped through the pages of his notepad with the other. He showed her a pre-prepared page with his answer, which stated:

I'll play something for you. You don't have to do anything but listen and imagine a story in your mind.

A story? What kind of story? She wanted to ask, but knew that she wouldn't get a response.

Squinting at him, still skeptical, she gave into the request and closed her eyes. "Alright. Ready when you are."

There were a few small, short notes at first - either Luka warming up or being genuinely nervous to start - but then an actual melody began to develop. She shut her eyes tighter, like it might ruin everything if she looked, and her nose scrunched up as she tried to focus on what he was playing and the instructions he'd given.

It sounded... regal? No, adventurous? Maybe both? It reminded her of movies that she would watch as a child, where a knight would go off somewhere for the sake of a princess. The music would get more dramatic as the knight was surrounded by dangers, then victorious as he triumphed. She caught herself smiling over this imaginary character she'd literally made up in her head, returning to the princess and receiving a favor from her for his efforts. It really was like a film, but shortened to a few minutes long and somehow familiar to her.

Her eyelids popped back open when the music ended, then blinked to readjust to her surroundings. Luka was staring at her curiously, the hand that'd been strumming resting more casually on his guitar as he waited.

"Erm..." She trapped her chin, slightly anxious and feeling like she was being quizzed. There weren't any real stakes involved, but what if she failed? "I... thought about a knight? He met and saved a princess, and she gave him her thanks? Maybe she even offered him something for it?"

The actual image in her head was more vivid than she let on, but it was difficult describing it when she figured that it could've been her overactive imagination.

Not missing a beat, Luka shot her a smile and flipped a page in his notepad to present to her. No way.

That's us, on the day we met.

Her mouth dropped open. She got it right? But then... "Uh—! So I'm the knight?! You're joking!"

Not that Luka wouldn't have made a pretty princess though. If he had just the right dress that accentuated—

She shook her head, trying to focus on the matter at hand. He, meanwhile, was unphased by the mental struggle she was having and flipped another page.

You were so cool. I've been trying to figure out how to say it all week.

"It wasn't a big deal!" she insisted, flushing pink. "They were judging you because of your looks and how 'quiet' you were, so I—you know—"

She made a few wild gestures that in no way resembled sign language but she hoped would convey the full dismissal of whatever he'd apparently been imagining their first meeting to be like. Worse still was that what he'd written implied that he'd been working on that melody all week in order to have it ready for her, and she knew what it was like to pour one's creativity into something.

He meant it and she'd heard as much.

Dropping her hands into her lap shyly, she had to relent, "But... I guess I get what you mean now, about saying things with music instead of words, even if I feel like your notepad should be confiscated."

Amused, he smirked, purposefully holding the notepad to the side furthest from her, out of her reach as she teasingly swiped at it. Using only the tilt of his head and look in his eyes, he asked her a playful 'why?'

"Why? I—" she began, then stopped when she needed to actually think about it. One disadvantage to not being mute like him was that she wasn't required to think before saying anything, such as how Luka needed to take the time to write out a full thought and read it before showing her.

Clearing her throat, she started over, "I can't believe you had fun last week? I mean, I guess it made sense if you invited me here, but I thought it was just from me helping you a little! Since we were there for a whole hour and I felt so bad because—" She realized what she was about to say, but it was too late to stop it. "—I was doing all the talking!"

Luka laughed outright at that, and the only thing keeping her from crawling under the bench and wishing for death was that it was actually pretty cute. He had a breathy sort of laugh, making it more quiet than a typical one but somehow incredibly charming.

Marinette leaned forward and rested her elbows on her lap, clasping her hands together in front of her mouth as her lips tried to both smile at him and grimace at herself at the same time. The fact that he hadn't fled at her flubs was a relief but also utterly perplexing.

She dared a peek over at Luka, who'd finished laughing and was trying to write something. It was taking him longer than usual and she noticed a little twitch in his brow, a contrast to what had otherwise been him being totally calm the whole time. Eventually, he tore the page out, scrunched it up, and stuffed it in his pocket, opting to put his hands on his guitar instead.

Marinette grew curious when his fingers twitched without playing any actual melody. He did start, but stopped, then started and stopped again, biting his lower lip in contemplation. Hand motions were also useless without a full understanding of sign language on her part.

He ended up settling on the notepad again, this time being unexpectedly quick in writing something. She hadn't realized how much suspense she was in until he presented it to her, her hands practically snatching it from him to read it.

You make me feel speechless, Marinette.

She blushed all the way up to her ears, speechless herself. She could excuse being told that she looked nice as some casual remark or pleasantry, the music as his only way of teaching her what she'd asked about, and not being put off by her constant talking as him being extremely polite, but this—

Was he flirting with her? There was a mild possibility of it being a joke at his own muteness, but when she checked his expression, he was watching her with a half-lidded gaze without any sense of playfulness. If anything, she could've sworn she saw a hint of shyness. Had he never put himself out there for someone before?

"You—" She looked at the notepad again, forcing herself to relax her grip before she wrinkled the pages. "You make me feel... um, speechful? I've never talked so much to someone I just met." She ducked her head. "You look nice too, by the way."

That was all she could really manage without feeling silly. Her experience with relationships was laughably limited and she didn't know how to flirt back or assure him that his flirting wasn't unwelcome. She just knew that he was thoughtful, adorable, and sweet, and that every time she glanced at his mouth a little too long, she'd catch herself thinking about other things it must have time for if he couldn't use it to talk.

She became alert as she felt a tug on the notepad - Luka having reached over to take it back - but she impulsively resisted, blurting out, "C-can I have this? The note I mean, not the notepad!"

He grinned, any of the previous nerves she thought she'd seen before gone as he nodded. The notepad slipped easily out of her hands this time, him far more careful tearing the note off than the other paper he'd scrunched up, and he wrote something extra before handing it off to her.

You can have more than that.

Underneath the line he'd written was his phone number, a rush of heat and relief going through Marinette at the confirmation that she wasn't the only one who wanted to meet up more. Whether Luka's directness was from the inability to speak or simply part of his character, she wanted someone like that; no misunderstandings, just his honest feelings.

She wasn't quite sure what she'd gotten herself into in the long term but, going off the matching pink on Luka's cheeks, she was sure that it was a good thing.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I feel like minotaur Konig is the type to really value gifts from his beloved. Like, she weaves him a beautiful tunic that matches his eyes and now he only wants to wear that every single day. After a while she's like "You're gonna have to wear something else eventually" and he's like "..............No" 😂. She crafts him an amulet for protection during his travels and he doesn't even believe in that kind of stuff but he literally never takes it off, he wears it at sea, at home, in the bath, in bed, everywhere. She made it for him because she loves him and that makes it his most prized possession.

Yes, Minotaur!König treats darling's gifts like they’re bestowals from gods 🥺 Try parting him with that shirt and he'll say it doesn't even smell that bad yet... Even her cooking (not always that great) is praised to the skies while she just rolls her eyes. Everything she makes, crafts or does is followed by a pair of keen, curious eyes – it’s unnerving sometimes but she doesn’t have the heart to tell him to mind his own business.

And when she trims his beard and locks, he’s learned to stay put like a good bull it’s a holy ceremony for him to get groomed. She creates so much beauty and order around her, she puts all things in the right places: even he becomes more handsome in her hands. She brings his eyes out with simple scissors and a shirt, how can he even begin to repay all this...?

He brings her an assortment of things he finds from abroad, in return for her endless kindness: exotic fruits, different types of wool, dried flowers and cute pottery. He doesn’t know what is considered rare or common quite yet so he may appear at her door with a confused goat tied on a rope and a bolt of finest silk in his paws. She caresses his beard, yet again gone wild: where to put the goat, she doesn’t know, but she appreciates the thought ❤️

[eldritch-spouse]

Relax, I know he's big and the phalluses are uh, intimidating but the subject is extremely docile. Who knew aliens would be so–why is he out of containment?

You're frozen. Catatonic.

You remember watching videos of animals in the wild becoming completely unresponsive when approached by predators, how the only thing you could see were their eyes, wide and frantic, and their chests heaving as they seemed to be praying to survive.

Those videos were so funny, right? Well, you're not laughing now...

The lifeform, the alien, the creature you had yet to see, that they'd been easing you into the idea of meeting so that it wouldn't be a colossal shock- Just effortlessly tore down the pressurized, extremely high-tech door to its cell. You didn't even know those doors could come flying off like that.

In seconds, mere stunned moments, the entity you can't even call a monster is staring you down. He's giant, truly, but gaunt like a beanstalk, all flowing limbs and unearthly elegance. You can't count the tentacles that comprise his lower body, you can't focus on the fins of his extremely human arms, the bizarre depressions on his chest area, and the only reason you know him as male is because of the mention of phalluses.

Curiously, he doesn't look hostile.

But he's very much focused on you, and that's not ideal.

It's as if he sensed you through the cell, somehow, and that caught his attention.

A large, water-filled glass dome envelops his head, but you can still very much sense those glazed eyes studying you from top to bottom. Like any human would, he procures eye contact before attempting to communicate.

But unfortunately, he doesn't converse in a language you can gouge.

A myriad of croons envelop the room, these soft tingling sounds that feel just barely within reach of your eardrums. The... Appendage, sprouting from the top of his head sways, an assortment of warm hues gently fading in and out.

Pink. Orange. Pink. Maroon. Pink. Shock pink. White. Pink blinking.

What is this, Simon Says?

He leans down, and trembling, you glance at the intern beside you in a desperate plea for help.

They look utterly fascinated by the interaction. Panicked, but amazed. You have no idea whether or not that's good for you.

Finally, they seem to come to their senses and realize that you are probably seconds away from pissing yourself if nothing is done.

" Okay. Okay- Listen to me. " They start murmuring, an audible gulp follows. Your eyes twitch to the worker, but you don't dare stare at them long enough to lose track of the literal alien.

" Like I said, he's very docile. There's no reason for him to attack you right now. In fact he's... Nevermind. "

What the fuck do they mean nevermind?!

" I need you to not move too suddenly, and don't scream, okay? "

You nod quietly, looking at the still pink-flashing light above their head. He dangles it in front of his face, as close to the glass as he can, as if to make sure you're getting the message. You hope pink signifies friendliness.

" What- What do I do now? " You whisper.

The intern looks at you like they themself aren't quite sure.

" U- Uhm... Let- Let me contact my- "

Out of nowhere, what you can only call a bark of noise rings out through the room.

This extremely loud sound that immediately frightens you, sharp and rough like a branch cracking but amplified a thousand times. Even now, it feels like it's still echoing within your eardrums.

Did he do that? Did something in the building just break?!

You shrieked, because of course you did, eyes nearly bulging out your skull when you realize the employee told you specifically not to scream.

They're looking at you with a tight-lipped grimace, finger poised over what you presume is a contact on their phone.

There isn't even time for you to say your last words, some kind of message for your family or even just a plea for help.

The alien reacts to your agitated noise quickly, but not at all in the way you'd expect. Instead of perhaps lunging to crack your neck like a twig or slashing your face off, the entity grabs you with both arms by the chest, lifts you into the air, and slides inside the cell it was previously contained in. The clutch is what prevented you from screaming again.

Once again, you channel the wisdom of prey animals in nature documentaries by staying absolutely stock still, and allowing the foreign lifeform to do whatever it wants. He keeps flashing colors at you in patterns you don't recognize, but involve a lot of pink tones. Purple now. Long and pudgy looking digits start poking at your outfit here and there, and you spot something rippling under the mass of his front, along that large opening you had never given much thought to until now.

It looks like something's bursting out of him...

Oh God, oh fuck what is that-

You blink, open-mouthed, at what has to be a dick. Some kind of wriggling, prehensile appendage tipped with a much too human-looking phallus. It flattens against your midsection, and you shudder in confusion. Confusion that soon grows into barely contained hysteria as more bizarre and unique extremities keep slithering out of his insides- What is he, made of cocks?

" S- Some help here?! " You finally manage to nearly sob out.

The worker is frantically trying to appease someone on the other end of their phone, picking at their collar while they watch you get vaguely harassed by an excited extraterrestrial.

" No, no sir he's never done that before- I-... No, I didn't- Sir, he tore the whole door off I can't just lock- " Their eyes widen as more hues of purple keep being flashed your way, like something horrendous is about to happen. " Get- Please get here quickly, I'm begging you! "

By the time they hurriedly mash the end call button and try to stuff their phone into a tight uniform, the alien already gently pried most of your shirt off, cooing some kind of melody that fails to lull you into calmness, which is understandable when a variety of reproductive organs are hovering far too close to your bare skin. Some of them are so... Strange. There's no stopping the thoughts of how they might be used.

Footsteps sound, and as soon as the worker tries to get within grabbing range of you, an already ballsy move in your eyes, the subject makes another powerful sound, the depressions in his chest vibrating while you groan in pain.

The filament in the alien's head swells significantly, blasting a color that your brain simply fails to comprehend, seeing it as a flash of pure black that momentarily blinds you before you have the wisdom to look away, trembling in his grasp.

The employee makes some kind of pained noise, you can hear the squeaking of their shoes as they run out the room and...

Leave you to your own devices.

Lord help you.

[thegremlininyourcloset]

guess who’s making a poll again?

anyway, select your favorite!

it’s mostly the Stephanie Brown show lmfao

a short description of each is under the cut!

Step Left For A Better Future

Starring: Stephanie Brown and Jason Todd, (and eventually the rest of the bats…)

Inspired By: the handful of Steph in Titans-Tower fics in existence

Stephanie Brown knows she was never meant to be Robin. She knows she’s just a stand-in till Tim’s dad pulls his head out of his ass. She doesn’t even mind it! (Mostly) But she is getting pretty fucking tired of literally EVERY SINGLE asshole in the entirety of Gotham City waving that fact directly in her face. So when the Red Hood shows up in Titans Tower, yammering about her being the “wrong Robin”, Steph is at her limit. And when the Red Hood reveals himself to be Jason Todd? She snaps.

Notes: You’re kidding yourself if you think Jason wasn’t Steph’s Robin. Also, no batcest here or ever

Angst Level: This one is significantly less humorous than all of the Steph-in-Titans-Tower fics I’ve read. Steph’s going through it, Jason’s going through it…everyone suffers before we get any joy. May evolve into a series (who am I kidding, it probably will)

Girl Meets Bird

Starring: Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Kate Kane, with some Jim Gordon

Look, Babs didn’t mean to become a dark creature of the night…at least, not at first. At first, she just wanted to fight crime. In Gotham. At night. Whilst being twelve and mostly untrained.

Notes: cryptid batfam, but it’s early batfam, and follows Babs in her feral teenager era

Angst: Currently the least angsty idea on here.

finders keepers

Starring:Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson, assorted batfam members

Inspired By: i don’t actually remember the fic

Dick Grayson has seen a lot of things in his undead life. But seeing a father leave his own goddamn daughter out as bait still manages to shake him. Luckily, Bruce imparted to him one very important rule when it comes to children who lack or have unfit guardians…finders keepers. This is how he ends up with Stephanie Brown.

Noted: found family yaaaayyyyyy

Angst Level: quite a bit, but there will be comfort

prepare for trouble (& make it double)

Starring: Stephanie Brown and Tim Drake

Tim Drake is used to being alone. His parents don't spend much time with him, but that's alright! It gives him time for photography, watching Batman and Robin, and finding all of Gotham City’s best rooftops.

Stephanie Brown is used to being alone. Her parents have other things to do, like her mom with her work and her dad with his being a huge asshole. But that's alright, Steph would rather spend her time memorizing Gotham City's back allies and learning how to win a fistfight.

Neither of them expect that fact to change.

But neither of them expect to find a best friend in a gymnastics class, either.

Notes: the Tim and Steph childhood friends AU you never knew you needed

angst: fluff and angst and chaos, oh my!

it gets better

Starring: Stephanie Brown and Wally West

Being a teenage vigilante is hard. Being a teenage vigilante without any kind of backup or support is harder. Being a teenage vigilante without any kind of backup or support with a supervillian dad and a civilian name nobody in the whole damn world even knows is impossible. Now, Steph has been…managing it, because “impossible” isn’t a concept she subscribes to—but even Steph can’t go it alone forever. And look, it’s not like she can just acquire vigilante backup, and she’s already attempting to handle the whole “my dad is a supervillian” bit (see teenage vigilantism), but she CAN do something about her name. So, that’s why Steph makes an account on itgetsbetter.com, a website connecting young trans people with older members of their community. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than nothing.

Notes: yeah, this is a bit of a wild one. But yeah, transfem Steph and transmasc Wally digital friendship. (Also, don’t worry, Steph and Wally are gonna remain platonic, this is NOT a ship-centric fic)

Angst: I will be touching on the canonical child abuse in both Steph and Wally’s backstories, as well as the transphobia both of them have to deal with. Plus normal sad vigilante activities, so yeah, angst is very much here.

flightless

Starring: Carrie Kelley & the other bats but mostly Carrie

Carrie Kelley has a secret. She knows. And the things that Carrie knows scare her. Like the names of all of Gotham’s vigilantes…past, present and future. Or the exact number of times the timeline has been altered. (Spoiler, it’s a lot.) Or the fact that she was once Robin, but has never worn the costume in her lifetime.

Or the fact that she witnessed the end of the world.

Notes: Uh oh! Seems the universe has glitched a little…Surely that won’t go badly?

Angst: does this count as horror? Like, maybe? It’s sad, anyway. Sad and trippy.

(Edit: I added the vampire dick Grayson tag cause I realized I forgot it)

[antimony-medusa]

Is that— bells ringing? Keyboards clacking? The sound of two thousand stressed writers pancing furiously about the floor? Ah yes, Yuletide.

Hello. MCYTblr. I am back again.

You are looking fine today as we move towards the end of the year. Is that a new cologne you're trying? New shirt? New glasses? It's working for you. How have I been? Well.

Well.

*I smack the wall, curtains spring aside, revealing my flip chart presentation that I've had lying in wait*

It is time for me to talk to you about Yuletide again. I was here earlier during tag nominations, but it's sign-up time, and I want to make sure everybody has a change to participate in this if they want to.

What's Yuletide?

Yuletide is an annual mega-exchange for small and rare fandoms. It runs in the close of the year, with a 1000 word minimum for gifts, with gifts revealed anonymously on the 25th of December and de-anoned on the 1st of January. It is easily the biggest exchange in multi-fandom-exchange-world, and last year more than 1,350 people signed up.

Why does everyone sign up?

Well, it's tradition, for one. There are a lot of people that only do Yuletide as their big exchange every year. It's a big holiday spectacle, it's really fun to see it operate and see pinch hits come out and get nabbed in minutes, and people kind of put on their holiday outfits and turn out for it.

For another thing, if you are in a small fandom, it's the one exchange where you can actually have a shot of getting a gift for an obscure manga fandom, or an out-of-print book, or a tv show from the eighties. If your fandom has five people in it, the odds are higher than average that two of them are signing up for this exchange, and hey presto, suddenly you're matchable in your fandom for an obscure podcast.

For another, and this is the biggie, the fact that this is an exchange for small and rare fandoms has led to a certain tradition and vibe for the fandoms that people nominate. People bring their most obscure and fun ideas, going, "hehehehe wouldn't it be fun if someone wrote a story about this", and into the tag set it goes. There is SUCH a spectrum of fandoms in the tag set.

This year there are 4,263 fandoms and 16,735 characters in the tag set. Let me just skim through and look at some of them.

There are commercials, web sketches, art pieces, songs, music videos, board games, podcasts, a dizzying assortment of anthropomorphising different places, items, and ideas, and RPF from a marvelous variety of historical periods (so, y'know, historical fiction if it was published professionally). There are people who nominated tik tok sketches. Twitter threads. A bridge. Book binding techniques. You ever wanted to write a romance between Knitting and Crochet? That's in the tag set, and someone wants to prompt you to do that. Happy Yuletide.

So if you are at all the sort of person who likes a prompt challenge, BOY is this one just a MARVELOUS one. I know I personally am going to be signing up for Humans are Space Orcs (tumblr post) and Fandom Exchanges (Anthropomorphic) amid my more traditional fandoms.

And as for my more traditional fandoms, and the reason why this post has the tags it does (I would get to it eventually)— there is a lot of MCYT in the tag set! I put out a post saying GUYS, the smaller fandoms might apply for this, and BOY did people show up for it. I scanned through it, and the MCYT (and adjacent) that made it in is:

Karmaland SMP

Legacy SMP

Lifesteal SMP

Moonlight SMP

New Life SMP

Outsiders SMP

Rats SMP

SMPEarth

SMPLive

Witchcraft SMP

Pirates SMP

Mianite

Slimecicle Cinematic Universe

SBI Rust

Generation Loss

You could make an entire sign up, 3 minimum requests and 4 minimum requests, and only select MCYT fandoms. The wild thing is that you can only select a max of 10 fandoms to offer, so you actually couldn't offer all of the MCYT. ZombieCleo Witchraft SMP is in. Tommyinnit SMPEarth. Clownpierce Lifesteal. Tubbo SBI Rust. Oli Rats SMP. A wealth of options for the block folks.

So come, join me! What's that? You say this sounds excellent, you're in? You want to know how to sign up? Well this post is already long enough so I'm putting the rest below a cut.

You sign up on the collection here, using fandoms listed in the tagset here. Before you do so though, I'd recommend you check out the blog, especially their "how to sign up" post here, because even if you're used to exchanges, the way Yuletide works is a little bit different. Let me do a quick breakdown here.

Requests

# of Fandoms

You have to select a minimum of 3 fandoms that you are Requesting (a gift that you want made for you), up to a maximum of 6 fandoms. Each fandom has to be unique. For each fandom, you can request between 0 to 4 characters in that fandom, and 0 means "literally you can hit me with anybody", and the up-to-4 characters are the people you definately want to show up in the fic.

AND MATCHING

This is one of the things that Yuletide does differently, because most fandom exchanges do "or" matching, where they match you on either characer A OR character B, (maybe you only offered character B) and you can pick among any of the selected characters on the person's request to write for. Because Yuletide does AND matching, you will only be matched if you offered every single one of the characters the person has selected, and then you get to write for every single one they have listed in their fandom, unless they say differently in their letter. If they requested character A and Character B, you get to deliver a gift that includes them both, according to the rules.

Bu like, in practice, a lot of people are a bit more like "you can pick only one of these guys if you'd like", because that is how everyone is used to things running in most other exchanges, plus people don't want to be too picky, so you can specify in your letter if you definately 100% want characters A, B, and C, or if you're fine with just A, or just A and C, or whatever constellation of characters you're chill with.

This year they have added optional freeform tags you will click on, that will specify either A) use every single one of these guys I selected. B) I have specified in my letter which guys I need for sure and which ones you can swap, C) Dealer's Choice Of Guys Go Crazy.

DNW and Optional Details

Yuletide is an "Optional Details Are Optional" (ODAO) exchange, so technically you could request (or receive) an offer that just has the characters and then you get to go absolutely buckwild for the two month writing period. Most people, however, do not want to do that, so that is where you'll put in Do Not Wants (anything that would ruin the gift for you, from major archive warnings to kinks that you don't vibe with to headcanons you loathe), and some prompts and/or likes for your person to jump off of.

DNWs absolutely must be abided by, and breaking a person's DNW is grounds for getting turfed from the exchange. Following a person's prompts or lists of likes is technically optional, but definately best practice, and y'know, part of the whole spirit of the exchange. Most people are doing their best to adhere to both the DNW and the Optional Details when they do their gift.

You can just format your DNW and Optional Details on the Ao3 signup page (easy, fast), or you can link them offsite in a letter (fancy, you can do formatting, people do them in google docs or dreamwidth pages (the traditional and more accessible option)). There's a tradition of people posting their letter links here, so that people can get an idea for what sort of prompts and signups people are offering, and make sure they're matchable to people with especially fun ideas. Note: you do have to duplicate the data if you're doing a letter, cause if you put your DNW in your letter but NOT in your Ao3, the mods won't enforce it.

And while we're here, that last link is to a community blog that includes a place where you can promo your fandoms to lure people into signing up for your guys, or participate in mini-challenges within yuletide for people who specificially want poly relationships (Three Doves Challenge), or characters of colour (Chromatic Yuletide), or horror/darkfic (Crueltide), or smut (Yuleporn), or art (Wrapping Paper), or even more. There's even a poetry challenge!

Offers

# of Fandoms

You have to sign up with a minimum of 4 fandoms, to a maximum of 10, for fandoms you are Offering (a gift you are willing to make). You must offer at least 2 characters for each fandom, to a maximum of 20— but there's also an "any" tick box if you want to go full "hit me, I like a challenge" and you'll write anything (in the tag set) within a fandom. Each of your fandoms must be unique.

Writing Period:

Signups are open through the 21st, with assignments out by the 23rd, and then you have until the 18th of December to deliver your gift.

Important Notes

You must be 18 or over to participate in Yuletide (because you might be matched with someone who requests smut), and signups close on 9pm UTC on Saturday, 21 October.

There's a known issue where the safari browser isn't letting people sign up properly, (when you get an exchange this big sometimes things break), so they say to either sign up on mobile or use a different browser. So that will be fun for me.

--

And that's it! Yuletide! Just under a week left to sign up, and 351 people have signed up as I write this letter at 1:30am. I just refreshed it and now it's 352. You can sign up on the Ao3 page here!

JOIN ME EXCHANGES SUCH FUN LETS GO.

[emma23]

Weird, but definitely not boring :

Jake lockley x reader

If you want to support me, feel free to check this out 💕

https://ko-fi.com/settings?tab=profile

The old taxi hummed down the dimly lit street, its interior smelling faintly of gasoline and worn leather. Jake Lockley kept his eyes forward, hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated through the chaotic traffic of New York. His gaze was as sharp as ever, glancing occasionally at his rearview mirror—never for traffic, always for people who might be following him.

Jake was a man who thrived on silence, on control. He liked his world simple, brutal, and efficient. But that was about to change the moment you climbed into the back of his cab.

It was supposed to be a routine ride—another random customer flagging him down for a quick trip. But from the moment you settled into the backseat, it was clear you weren’t like his usual passengers.

"Hi," you said brightly, your voice cutting through the silence like a bullet through glass. "Did you know that pigeons can recognize themselves in the mirror? That makes them one of the only animals with self-awareness."

Jake's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, catching your reflection. You had this wild look in your eyes, like your brain was running a marathon while the rest of the world was still at the starting line.

"Uh-huh," he grunted, hoping that a non-committal sound would be enough to keep the conversation at bay.

It wasn’t.

"Oh! And did you know," you continued, leaning forward with the enthusiasm of someone about to share the secret of the universe, "that there’s a fungus that can control the minds of ants? It’s called Ophiocordyceps. It makes the ants climb up to high places and then… poof!" You mimicked an explosion with your hands. "Fungus city."

Jake clenched his jaw. This wasn’t the kind of conversation he was expecting. He’d driven mob bosses, scared tourists, and drunks, but a full-on monologue about pigeons and fungus was a first.

"Right," he muttered, hoping you’d get the hint and settle back in your seat.

But of course, you didn’t.

"Do you think humans could be controlled like that?" you asked suddenly, your voice dropping as if you were about to uncover some deep conspiracy. "Like, what if we’re all just ants, climbing up to the top of our personal skyscrapers, waiting to go... poof?"

Jake sighed, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Not unless you’ve got some serious issues."

"Me?" you laughed, settling back into the seat. "Oh, I’ve got issues, alright. But not the kind that come from mind-controlling fungus. Mostly just bad decisions."

Now that, Jake could relate to.

He glanced at you again through the rearview mirror, taking in your appearance for the first time. There was something off about you—not in a bad way, just… off. You were dressed like you couldn’t decide between going to a rave or a library. A beanie pulled low over your hair, a wild assortment of bracelets on your wrists, and an oversized hoodie with some obscure band logo on it.

You were a weirdo. And Jake Lockley was starting to realize that weird wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

"So, what are you doing tonight?" you asked suddenly, leaning forward again with a grin that made you look like you were about to cause some kind of trouble.

Jake frowned, taken off guard by the question. "Working."

"Working, huh? What, no secret double life as a vigilante or something?" you teased, completely unaware of how close to the truth you were.

Jake’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smile threatening to break through. "Something like that."

You looked at him for a moment, eyes narrowing like you were trying to figure him out. Most people would back off when they realized Jake wasn’t interested in talking. But not you. You leaned in closer, uncomfortably close, your chin practically resting on the back of the passenger seat.

"So, you’re a man of mystery," you said with a dramatic flair, your voice dropping as if you were narrating some noir detective story. "A shadow in the night. The man no one knows, but everyone needs."

Jake couldn’t help it—he snorted. It was brief, but it was there. A crack in the wall he’d built around himself.

You grinned triumphantly. "Ha! I knew you had a sense of humor. So, what’s your deal, anyway? I’ve seen you driving around this neighborhood a few times. You some kind of secret spy, or is this just the universe throwing us together again because I made a wish on a shooting star when I was ten?"

"Lady," Jake said, his voice gruff but no longer as cold, "I’m just a guy trying to make a living."

"Sure you are," you replied with a wink. "But you can’t fool me. I’ve seen too many superhero movies to not recognize a tortured soul when I see one."

Jake sighed, shaking his head as he pulled up to a red light. "You’ve watched too many movies."

"Maybe," you agreed, settling back into your seat. "But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong."

Silence fell between you for the first time since you got in the cab. Jake felt the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. Maybe you’d finally run out of things to say.

"Can I ask you something?" you asked suddenly.

So much for silence.

Jake glanced at you in the mirror again. "Depends."

"Do you ever get lonely?" Your voice was quieter now, almost hesitant.

Jake froze. Of all the things you could have asked, that wasn’t one he was prepared for. He wasn’t used to people asking him personal questions, and he definitely wasn’t used to people like you asking them.

"What kind of question is that?" he muttered, turning his eyes back to the road.

"I dunno," you said, your tone light again. "Just seems like the kind of thing someone like you would feel. You know, all broody and mysterious. You’ve got that whole 'lone wolf' vibe going on."

Jake didn’t respond. Because what could he say? That you were right? That there were nights where the silence of his apartment was too much to bear, where the weight of his own thoughts felt like it might crush him? No, he wasn’t about to share that with you. Not with anyone.

But you just shrugged, not pushing for an answer. "It’s cool. I get it. I’ve been there, too."

You fell quiet after that, and Jake found himself weirdly missing the sound of your rambling. Maybe because it kept him from having to think about things he didn’t want to think about.

After a few minutes, Jake pulled up to your destination, the familiar brick facade of your apartment building coming into view.

"Thanks for the ride," you said with a grin, pushing open the door. "And hey, if you ever need someone to talk to about pigeons or fungus, I’m your girl."

Jake rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in his expression as he watched you go. You were weird. No denying that. But maybe, just maybe, weird wasn’t so bad.

A few days later, Jake found himself parked in front of your building again, his fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel. He didn’t know why he was there. Maybe it was the fact that your incessant rambling had managed to get under his skin. Maybe it was because you were right—loneliness had been his constant companion for too long.

Or maybe, just maybe, he missed you.

He shook his head, scoffing at himself. What the hell was he doing?

Just as he was about to pull away, there you were, stepping out of the building with that same bounce in your step, that same wild grin on your face.

You saw him immediately, your eyes lighting up like it was the best thing that had happened to you all week.

"Well, well, well," you teased, leaning against his cab door. "Couldn’t stay away, could you?"

Jake just stared at you for a moment, before letting out a long-suffering sigh. "Get in."

Your grin widened, and without another word, you slid into the passenger seat.

As Jake pulled the cab away from the curb, you turned to him with a sly smile. "You know, I’ve got this great theory about aliens—"

Jake groaned, but this time, there was a hint of a smile on his face. Yeah, you were weird. But maybe that was exactly what he needed.

At the end of the night, after hours of listening to your wild theories and bizarre trivia, Jake found himself standing outside your door.

"See you tomorrow?" you asked, your tone hopeful but not pushy.

Jake looked at you, really looked at you, for the first time. You were strange, no doubt about it. But you were real. And in his world, that was rare.

He smirked. "We’ll see."

As you closed the door, Jake muttered to himself, "God help me."

And with that, he turned and walked away, knowing full well he’d be back.

[mikansei]

assorted 🦚 HCs i'm probably never going to do anything with and am thus releasing into the wild:

🩵 aventurine's hair is only wavy when it's humid - but coming from a desert planet, basically any humidity above 0% counts as such, so in effect it's now permanently wavy. (on sigonia it only showed when it rained, which was such an infrequent blessing that it was seen as good luck - which, at this point, is just another facet of that grand cosmic joke at his expense. permanently lucky, right?)

🩵 he doesn't hide his brand scar because it makes people visibly uncomfortable to see it, and he's never been a non-confrontational person. sure, he'll twist himself into all kinds of more palatable shapes in order to play a role or fulfill expectations - but there are some things he doesn't want people to be able to ignore. (if you want to look at me, you have to look at what the world did to me. you don't get to look away.)

🩵 he doesn't make it common knowledge that he never learned to swim; he'll happily sip mai tais under the shade of a beach umbrella, but no one's ever seen him get in the water. (ratio swims like a fish, but the "wet shirtless ratio" factor overrides any jealousy he might feel over this.)

🩵 he has mixed feelings about rain until he has to be In The Rain, at which point he becomes the world's saddest wettest cat about it. and yes, some of it's about evoking bad memories - but the sensation of cold wet clothes clinging to him is also just physically uncomfortable.

also this doesn't really fit here but i don't want to make a separate post lmao, the ingame descriptions of the avgins and the halovians are making me slightly insane

halovians:

A revered race esteemed for their enchanting voices and captivating appearance, widely adored throughout the universe. They seem born into the love and admiration of other species and peoples. Halovians are blessed with shrewdness and few can peer past their mysterious and elegant smiles.

avgins:

The Avgins are blessed with attractive facial features, beautiful eyes, and an innate wealth of emotional intelligence, all of which effortlessly endear themselves to any strangers. However, these inborn talents are the exact reason they draw jealousy and ire from others.

the descriptions are so incredibly similar and yet their reception is polar opposite!! i feel a very normal amount of emotion about this

[naamahdarling]

Today's medical update, please pardon any weirdness as I am using speech to text, and please excuse how long this is. I put an excellent picture of Fancy at the end for you. Here we go.

The shortest version is that my GP is going to try and centralize this. I have made an appointment for Monday. We are going to start over from the very beginning. New specimens, new cultures, everything.

The long version is kind of wild ride. It's going under a cut

My GP is now telling me that on two of the occasions that I went to Urgent Care or the hospital for a UTI, the records say that I did not actually have one.

This makes no sense whatsoever. I was symptomatic and I could smell it. On both of these occasions, I was told in no uncertain terms that I did have one.

I do not believe I was lied to at either facility. That means the only possibilities are that the testing was done improperly, the results were charted improperly, the records were sent over improperly, or I didn't understand what was being said to me.

At this point, with this absolute clown show that has been unfolding around me, this ridiculous circus where each act is fraught with nonsensical antics even more baffling than the ones before, I am literally unable to come to any conclusions. This is absolutely maddening.

And it's frightening, because there is something wrong, genuinely, and it might be something that they are unable to detect with the methods they are currently using. That's scary for a multitude of reasons, one of which is that they are not going to be willing or able to treat something if they do not think it exists. The other is that it opens the door to the possibility of their being further testing, which makes me violent to even contemplate. I want what is wrong with me to be simple, easy to treat, and relatively benign.

This has been frustrating, and drawn out, and I am sick of it. By itself it isn't enough to completely break me down. It's been almost unbearable when combined with the facts that I have serious concerns about the health of three of my cats, that my father seems to be worsening in his condition, that I have several other medical storylines going concurrently with this one, one of which is extremely stressful and frightening, and that all of this fuckery and running around has caused me to have to cut out most of the very, very few enjoyable and meaningful activities that are present in my life.

It has impacted my ability to be present for my partner, and for my pets, for me to sustain communication and relationships with people who are not my boyfriend or my best friend, and to simply fucking relax.

Also I can't fuck. Like, I know that this is the laugh at horny people website, but that is significant. Receiving not just physical touch but intimate touch is one of the very few ways I have of assorting ownership over my own body at this time.

I feel my identity has shifted from an internally defined "struggling person just going about their business" to an externally defined identity as a patient with a body that is sick and who must now structure their life around the demands of a system that does not care about me in the slightest, even though the providers usually do.

From the outside I know that this doesn't seem that terrible. I've spent the vast majority of this with no pain, and the times I have been in pain haven't crested a 3. If it weren't for the fact that I don't know what it is, it would be relatively trivial!

Unfortunately, because this isn't all I have going on, it's been really fucking things up. I space my appointments out so that I have time to recover between each one. I have PTSD, I have medical trauma, I have emotional reactions after stepping into a medical facility for any reason, and when things go wrong even in a very small way they can be intense. I manage this by allowing myself to have the reaction, experience all of the feelings, and come back to myself. It is a healthy way of doing things. It doesn't work, though, if I'm having to deal with one thing after another and no time in between to recover from it. This is essentially what has been happening to me for 2 months. Appointments, phone calls, messages, fixing mistakes, having to explain my history repeatedly as it gets ever more complicated. There's a lot more to it than just one appointment a week, which is already a lot for me.

I know this is something that chronically ill people deal with all the time, often for years, often for life, but the extent of it is new to me and very difficult to bear. My personality is vanishing under the weight of all of this crap. I do not feel like myself.

So yeah, sorry for rambling so much but this is just been...I don't even have the words to describe it. Nonsensical, but in an unfortunately consequential way. I've been going in circles all this time, apparently.

I don't really expect anybody to read all of this. But if you did, thank you. It means a lot to me. This place, and all of you, function as a sort of pressure relief, and a source of constant, pleasurable entertainment. I know many of you empathize with what I'm going through, and that helps me to feel less alone. That all by itself is so important.

Anyway, here's my cat.

She got to be on the puzzle table and was very smug about it.

[aqupistau]

— ☕️ⸯⸯ : the way back home﹙bbh﹚

warning: mentions of alcohol (but it's just wholesome fluff)

genre & trope: fluff and established relationship

pairing: byun baekhyun x gn!reader

word count: 0.97k (edited)

synopsis. "if i were a sleepy sea otter and you were also a sleepy sea otter, would you hold my hand so that we won't float away from each other?"

Baekhyun wasn't the greatest soldier alive when it came to alcohol tolerance; he himself had great self-awareness of it. This resulted in him never drinking furthermore in your presence once he knew he was tipsy. At first, you didn't mind this at all, although, after receiving the first-ever emergency call from one of his friends, this changed your mind.

The call consisted of the first few seconds of a proper conversation with the said friend, and then a minute later to Baekhyun stealing the phone, who was then drunkenly flirting with you. Clearly losing the battle between alcohol and his sobriety.

Baekhyun's friend that called you, who seemingly was the only person sober, got his phone back and pleaded you to get him ASAP before he lost his marbles dealing with a bunch of lousy drinkers.

You obliged, mindlessly arriving at the destination a lot quicker than you thought, almost snickering at the thought of a crimson-cheeked boyfriend just smiling like a fool at you. Junmyeon, the caller, his face of weariness turned into a relieved one as he greeted you at the front door, booming noises of drunken men singing karaoke inside and the strong smell of assorted liquor exuding from him.

"Hi, Y/N! Here to pick up Baekhyun, right?" he questioned, which honestly sounded more like it had only one valid answer.

"Yes, though it looks like I'll be spoiling his fun if I pick him up while all of you are having so much fun." You politely replied just for formality.

Junmyeon chuckled and firmly added, dead in the eyes, begging, "I promise you that you aren't. Please come inside, Y/N. Please?"

"Y/N? Is that Y/N? Y/N!" A familiar bright, boyish voice slurred in excitement from the inside. You looked at Junmyeon for assurance, and he nodded, encouraging you to enter the living room. You gulped in nervousness, thinking of how to deal with the new kind of Baekhyun you'd never met before. It was like helplessly walking on a field of tall grass full of wild Pokemons.

Before leaving your shared home with Baekhyun, you've researched the effects of alcohol, and one struck you: repressed emotions and thoughts will be set free in a drunken state. You weren't sure if that was true since no reliable sources proved this fact, but you still wondered, almost in a way of contemplation. Doubtful if you can even deal with a wasted Baekhyun.

"It's me, Baek—Oh my god."

There he was. And you were right about one thing: his cheeks would go red when he was drunk but based from the research about repressed feelings when in a drunken state, you can tell that this Baekhyun will be a handful.

"Y/N~" The last syllable of your name dragged on as he attempted to wiggle up from his seat. "I missed you so much, Y/N." You quickly ran up to support him from standing, relieved that you caught him on time.

"But we were together like… four hours ago, baby." He nodded in reply.

"Exactly." Oh, well.

After bidding goodbye to the rest of his friends, who were thrilled to see you, you got help from Junmyeon to put Baekhyun on the passenger seat, bidding him farewell and good luck as you set off to go back home.

Surprisingly, the first couple of minutes of the drive were quiet, and your boyfriend was just sleeping peacefully, thankfully, not causing a ruckus silently. You didn't try to pry him from his peace and just continued driving, waiting for him to mumble anything you could tease him about once he woke up. You admired this very moment of comfortable silence, wondering of the antics that would happen by the next morning and planning to prepare ahead a good hangover soup to lighten the weight of your lover.

"Baby?" He's awoken.

"Yes?"

"Can I hold your hand? It's quite cold," he requested groggily.

"I can't, baby. I'm driving us back home."

"Oh...then, can I borrow your jacket?" Baekhyun tested again, opting for a different consolation.

"Yes, of course. It's on the backseat, Baek."

He struggles to look for it in the back seat, carefully but clumsily putting his arms inside the armholes of the jacket when he does.

A few minutes pass, and he complains again, "...I still wanna hold your hand, Y/N."

"Let's hold hands when we're under a stop light, okay?" You turned the car to the highway, and coincidentally, the red light from the traffic light stopped you. In reaction, Baekhyun reached out for your hand and interlocked his cold fingers with yours.

"Y/N?" he called out again.

"Yes?"

"Your hand is very warm. I love holding your hand."

You beamed with a snicker, looking down at your entwined hands. His hands that easily get cold and would always seek refuge for yours that were always cozy and warm. These hands that would always cup your cheeks and kiss you plushly in the wake of the morning. You noticed the difference of temperature of his and your hand, and you grasp slightly harder, attempting to warm his faster.

"I love holding your hand too, Baek."

The traffic lights turned green, and you gently removed your tightly held hand from him, leaving his hand to reach out to yours with dismay.

"Y/N?" Baekhyun asks for you again from just a few miles.

"Mhm?" You hummed softly, never troubled by his constant wants to hear your voice and attention even if he asks for the vainest demands.

"I need you to answer a question."

"Sure."

"If I was a sleepy sea otter," he yawned, the sign of the need to sleep displaying, "And you were also a sleepy sea otter…."

"Will you hold my hand so we'll not drift away from each other when we're sleeping?"

"Baek?" It was your turn to ask, "You do know that we always snuggle when we sleep, right?"

"...Oh. Then, can I hold you all night when we're finally home?" There were remotely a small number of cars driving, so you turned the car, almost near your home and took the opportunity, interlocking the hand that rested on his thigh with yours, holding it near your lips, and kissed lovingly the back of his hand.

"When it involves loving you, then it's always a yes."

© aqupistau. all rights reserved. ↬ masterlist

[gravity-what]

Motorcycles, Marital Arts and Misdemeanors

A Motorcycle AU Master Post

Summary: Light hearted AU Set in the late 1980’s Las Angeles where Chase Young, a run-away getting by through petty crime and illegal motorcycle racing, meets Omi, a young orphan and student of Dashi’s Shaolin Style Dojo and decides that to immediately adopt him. It’s too bad these things aren’t as easy as just saying so.

Staring:

Chase Young: A wild life enthusiast, illegal motorcycle racer, semi-official martial artist, a 'collector' of misdemeanors, and Omi's self appointed guardian (his proudest title)

Guan: Stunt double and want-to-be actor. He takes private lessons at Dashi's dojo, spars and races (legally) with Chase regularly, and has a cat named Chucky he dotes on.

Dashi: 'Dragon of the Wind' Martial arts teacher, dojo owner (x3), and ladies man. Wanted for tax evasion by the government and his ex-wife.

Omi: A small child in a newly realized big world! Martial art student at Dashi's dojo and learning to appreciate all the world has to offer. (Chase is his favorite person!)

And an assortment of jungle cats at the local zoo~

Stories

First Post/Artwork

the world’s (not) so small by @aspureasamelody

Going through the city is one thing. Doing it on a ride on a motorcycle with Chase Young was another thing. If anything, it was the best thing. Possibly the best thing ever.

The World’s (Not) So Big by @aspureasamelody

The world was huge, and Chase Young could go anywhere he pleased, take anything he wanted from it. No one had the wherewithal to stop him. Chase knew how to slip past or plow through anything that tried. It earned him more than a few arrest warrants, but Chase wasn’t the type to ever slow down enough to those to catch up to him.

Too many cooks and not enough bakers by @aspureasamelody

The home ec class at Omi’s school had a long-running tradition of a family day event. On one day every year, students would invite family members so they could bake something together. Because— as the teacher said was an important lesson to learn for building any kind of home— food tastes better when it’s shared. Everyone seemed to have someone there with them, whether it be parents, grandparents, or aunts and uncles. Everyone except Omi.

Every zoo is a petting zoo if you’re not a coward by @aspureasamelody

Chase takes his protégé to visit the tiger exhibit at the zoo.

Valentine’s Chocolate

Guan finds Omi out on a hunt for some chocolate.

Midnight Races

Guan had stopped even trying to say no to this.

Don’t Tell The Cops

Guan needs help preparing for an upcoming scene.

Dad

Omi accidentally calls Chase ‘Dad’.

Yi Yin’s

Chase celebrates officially being called ‘dad’.

Forever Young

Chase finds the worst recipes for him and Guan to cook together.

Hospital

Chase arrives as Dashi's dojo to find out Omi's been taken to the hospital

An Expected Guest

Chase needs five references to adopt Omi, he sets out to get his third.

Art

Mini-Comic based on @aspureasamelody’s “every zoo is a petting if you’re not a coward” story

Guan’s Bike

Chase’s Bike

Dashi’s Bike

General Chase and Omi art

One

Two

Three by @godtierwallpaper

[kotegiris]

[Event Story] The Herald of Dawn

previous chapter ✧ all ✧ next chapter

Chapter 4: Enemy Organization

【Slick - Bar】

Lono: Here you are, Boschi-san. Please sit down.

Boschi: Thanks.

Staff: Hi, welcome. What can I get you?

Boschi: Scotch on the rocks. Lono, feel free to order whatever you want.

Lono: Thanks! Then, I’ll have that too.

Staff: Two scotch on the rocks, coming up.

Step…step…

Lono: …Sigh. Having to pull out a chair for my senior, going out of the way to buy a drink…

Lono: Keeping up this mafia act is kind of a pain.

Boschi: …If I had to say, being a noble from the Eastern Lands was probably harder. Well, it’s all good as long as you don’t stand out.

Boschi: Anyways, back to talking about work. Let’s go over it again…

Boschi: This time our goal is the capture and removal of Leo Force.

Boschi: We’re up against the head of the mafia… It’ll be difficult to make contact with him or to even locate him.

Lono: Yeah… The client’s demanding a speedy resolution too, right?

Boschi: Yeah. If this goes on unchecked, the damage will only spread.

Boschi: It’s a bit violent, but… We’ll do it the mafia way too.

Lono: The mafia way, huh… Meaning what exactly?

Boschi: …Wait. The drinks are here.

Clink…clink…

Staff: Thanks for waiting. Anything else you’d like to order?

Boschi: No, I’m fine…

Lono: Ah, I’ll have the “Slick’s Wild Vegetables Assortment”.

Staff: Alright, coming right up.

Step…step…

Boschi: ……Hey.

Lono: Hehe, it’s fine. Might as well since it’s our first time here.

Lono: Ah, or is it because you’re full from dinner?

Boschi: I didn’t say that. Order some meat next.

Boschi: Also… We’re splitting the cost of the food.

Lono: Hehe, got it! So what were we talking about again?

Lono: Ah, that’s right. About the “mafia way” of doing things.

Boschi: Yeah. …Just in time, the guests I wanted to see are here.

Boschi: Look at the guys that just came in. They’re the mafia that takes care of all the problems at this bar.

Lono: Takes care of all the problems… So, like the bodyguards?

Boschi: Yeah. And their source of income isn’t just from guarding.

Boschi: Kidnapping, coercion, stealing… If it’s for money, they wouldn’t hesitate to commit murder either.

Lono: What an awful group… Are they also Leo’s subordinates?

Boschi: Nope, the opposite. They’re part of a different group that’s enemies with Leo’s faction.

Boschi: They’re the second biggest mafia in this town, so to speak.

Boschi: The plan this time is to first… Mess with those guys a little.

Lono: …I see. So the plan is by messing with Leo’s enemies…

Lono: We’ll gain Leo’s trust. The “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” method…

Boschi: That’s the plan. I don’t know if it’ll go well, but it’s worth a shot.

Boschi: At least we’ll be reducing the amount of bad guys here.

Lono: True. I’m in.

Lono: Even if it turns into a fight, we won’t lose to those guys.

Boschi: Yeah. Well, we’re done scoping them out…

Lono: Are we heading back?

Boschi: Hell no. We haven’t gotten our food yet.

Lono: Hehe, yeah! Then let’s go back after we eat!

Boschi: Yeah. Let’s get some souvenirs for Aruji-sama and the others on the way back too.

【Slick - Hotel】

The next day… The butlers went over the details of the plan again with me.

This time they were going to “mess with” a group who does business by kidnapping and collecting ransom money…

It seems the goal is to show off our presence by shutting down their business.

Boschi: Their “goods”... In other words, the kidnapped people are being held captive in a warehouse in the slums.

Boschi: We’ll attack them there and release the hostages.

Boschi: Since we’re planning to show off our family,

Boschi: Even though it’ll be dangerous, I’d like the boss to come with us.

Lato: We’ll be by your side, so you won’t be in any danger.

> As you should be (That’s a relief)

Lono: If all goes well, we should get Leo’s attention with this.

Lamli: Yup ♪ We’ll be saving people too, so it’s killing two birds with one stone ♪

Lamli: By the way… How did you find out where the hostages were being kept?

Boschi: The info came from the Bartolo family. They’ve been keeping tabs on the mafia for a while.

Lamli: Huh…? Then why didn’t they help them?

Boschi: Because the biggest threat to them is Leo’s group and the constant raids on the sawmills…

Boschi: So they’ve been putting off dealing with Leo’s enemies.

Boschi: …Their actual aim by leaving them be is probably so that they’ll keep Leo in check.

> Who the hell does he think he is? (That’s terrible…)

Lono: Seriously… It should be their job to help the townspeople if they’re in trouble.

Boschi: Anyways, on the outside, our family isn’t supposed to have any connections to the Bartolo family.

Boschi: Meaning we can freely help the townspeople.

Boschi: Now… It’s about time we get going.

Boschi: …Boss, your orders?

> We’re making our move (Let’s go, guys)

Lamli: Yes, boss!

Step…step…step…

-A little later-

The butlers and I went through an empty backstreet… Until we saw an old warehouse with all the windows blocked off.

With bold steps, Boschi and I walked closer to what appeared to be the front entrance and…

A man came out from inside, eyeing us suspiciously. 

Lookout: …Stop right there. This is private property.

Boschi: We know. We’re here to talk about business.

Boschi: We’re from the Devils Family. You must have heard from your boss, right?

Lookout: …? About what…?

While Boschi was distracting the lookout… One by one, the other butlers went around to the back of the warehouse.

After confirming they were all gone with a side glance, Boschi continued talking to the lookout with a nonchalant look.

Boschi: So he didn’t mention it to you? Tch. No other choice…

Lookout: …State your business. I’ll confirm with the higher-ups.

Boschi: Yeah, alright. It’s about your kidnapping business…

Boschi: …It’s shutting down as of today. How unfortunate.

Lookout: Gaah!!