#well i can always read it again but i must go on further

[jerrythebug]

The League days are over in my read through :( JLA run ended and Extreme got cut off really randomly. Idk what's up with them. Sadly my beloved League is no more. I must detour into BOP now, chronologically. But I'm kinda beefing with Batman right now, I see too much of him and I don't want to read stuff with him. I kinda get this way with overexposed characters. Hopefully he won't appear there much, but I think he might. We'll see.

I'm actually really excited to meet Babs and her girls! Is she the leader? Idk, but I think she's very important. Also gotta see for myself what that Babs x Dinah talk is about 🧐 Time to branch out into more yuri.

Also also, it's time for me to read some Ted solos I think. I've only ever read Booster's one, still haven't finished that one actually. Idk, the more comic I read the more I want to read next. It's never ending. Probably gonna get tired of it soon. Maybe I'll rewatch Peacemaker and daydream about the Booster show that's apparently coming soon. That's one more reason to stay alive, huh? I'd sure love to see that one! It's totally happening, right? Idk, even if not, it's fun to pretend like it is so I have something to look up for.

Usually my hiperfixations switch up every few weeks and Ngl, I kinda feel like the DC/Boostle/JLI one is leaving me. Well, I'll always carry it in my heart and also will be coming back to it sporadically. I hardly abandon my special stuff forever. We'll see how it goes. For now I'm super tired from work & life, I need to get a day off (or two) and then maybe my mood will change. Maybe the Boostle is here to stay.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens graphic novel update: May 2024

Happy 34th birthday to Good Omens - published in May 1990. We don't need any extra reasons to celebrate Aziraphale and Crowley, but we're always happy to find some.

Admin

Thank you to everyone who has completed the PledgeManager so far; as mentioned, this will be open through 2024 into early 2025 to complete. A few key queries that have arisen in the past month:

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I need to change my address. How do I do that? We have left the option to update your shipping address open on PledgeManager and will do so for as long as possible. Per PledgeManager, here is a step-by-step on how to change your address: Return to your survey (which you can also do by visiting my.pledgemanager.com and using the ‘Forgotten Password’ option if needed) and scroll down on the receipt page. There, you will see the below button. After clicking that, you will be taken to the first page of the survey and will just need to click through to the shipping page. On the shipping page, you can use the ‘Create New Address’ button to enter their updated address. 

If you have any further issues or queries, visit the central FAQ page as your first port of call.

Good Omens items...

The desk at Good Omens HQ is slowly filling up with prototypes, the latest of which appears to be as popular as Aziraphale and Crowley, and for good reason. We are, of course, talking about the ducks. Here's an early version of the duck mug:

We've got some early prototype designs of the trading cards too. Illustrator Steve Gregson has begun work on the base card deck illustrations, to be unveiled in future, and designs for some of the variants are fully underway. Here are some early samples of graphic novel variant cards from Colleen Doran, and Rachael Stott's Crowley:

The base packs (Hellhound+) currently include 80 cards, and have caused quite heated games with those who have test-played it so far on their attempts to thwart (or indeed cause) the apocalypse. Hellhound+ backers will also get a booster pack alongside the main game. Rarities for sharing at random in these orders are shaping up nicely too. Hoping to share some of the base pack design imminently.

If you've been wondering what your other alternative cover choice is, alongside Rachael Stott's (Serpent+), then wonder no more: here is Frank Quitely's take on Aziraphale and Crowley, ready to shine on your shelves.

Update from Colleen

We often end with an update from Colleen, whether that's her art, or her shots from her studio. However, we thought it was about time we invite Colleen to update you herself, so we are handing the rest of this month's over to your ineffable artist for a glimpse inside the process of making Good Omens. Enjoy.

---

As you may imagine, I’m having a wonderful time working on the Good Omens graphic novel. The Dunmanifestin team asked me to pop in and give you a look at my process.

The task of adapting a beloved novel into graphic novel format is a complex, wonderful sort of pressure cooker. Even without the well-publicized complications I got smacked with over the last year, it promised to be an intense, time-consuming project.

The graphic novel is about the book and not the show. Getting Michael Sheen and David Tennant out of my head was quite a task. I’ve seen it dozens of times and I adore it, but I to had devote a lot of time to re-reading the novel and listening to the audiobook to clear my head of them. 

The few times I allowed myself to watch the show again screwed me up a bit. So, I won’t watch it again until I am completely finished with every drawing. Maybe a view-a-thon will be my reward for finishing the book. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself. There’s still a lot to do, so let me show you it.

Before we knew the Kickstarter fundraiser would do well, the graphic novel was to clock in at 164 pages. After the good news of the Kickstarter success, I got permission to take the story to 200 pages. That meant a major rewrite and redraw on some dozens of thumbnails and layouts.

And you guys are getting a much longer book.

Not complaining one bit. I was so happy to get more space to give breathing room to the ending.

Anyway, here's a look at my workspace.

To the left is my laptop computer with the script. The laptop is connected to my graphics computer via ethernet, and all my reference is on the main system, from which I share files.

On my older projects, I dutifully printed out every bit of reference. I think this is the first project where I’ve done all reference and organizing on my MAC.

As you can see, I draw comics the old-fashioned way – by hand – and there is my script on the computer.

But I do all the coloring on this project on the MAC. I know some people hate Photoshop, but even if I wanted to switch, I don’t have the time to dive into a new system.

That entire box with all the narrow drawers in it you see there contain Good Omens pages in varying degrees of completion. Finished pages are at the bottom with layouts, pencils, and partial inks toward the top. The middle drawer contains templates, French curves, and a ruler.

The box isn’t fancy art studio equipment. It’s just a Childcraft brand puzzle storage rack. I realized a long time ago the heavy wooden bookcases, puzzle racks, and construction paper storage made for children’s classrooms made great modular storage for professional art spaces. It’s solid as a rock, heavy so little children can’t tip it, and I can move it and rearrange my space however I like.

The final art is drawn on 11”X14” Strathmore 500 acid free Bristol.

I do all my prelims as tiny “thumbnail” sketches, some in ink, some in very loose pencil. I keep them organized in this Levenger notebook. The thumbnail paper is both Canson brand, and Blue Line Pro, and both are acid free. Blue Line Pro is good for ink, but Canson is better for pencil because it has more tooth. I usually use Canson.

Using the Levenger hole puncher, I perforate my pages and keep them organized in a Levenger Circa system. It’s pricey, but I love it. There are other brands far less expensive, however.

The ruler shows how tiny the thumbnails are.

If the storytelling is clear at this small size, then it will be clear in the final.

I redo quite a bit as I go along, as you can see from the sequence below.

From thumbnail:

To pencils:

Since I did multiple rewrites, adding a large section at the end and popping in earlier scenes I originally had to skip, this meant redoing almost all the page numbers about 4 times.

Nearly went barmy.

I use the construction method of drawing, as you see. This is an old-school technique. Some people seem to assume that artists always use computers and tracing for their drawings, but most cartoonists of my generation work extemporaneously. There’s quite a bit of noodling around and searching in the sketches. Using too much reference often results in stiff, dead work.

In comics, it’s very important to make sure you’ve considered word balloon placement when designing a page. The script for Good Omens is more copy-heavy than most modern comic book scripts because I want to preserve as much of the clever original language as I can.

Here I scramble about working out the word balloon space allowance.

Here’s a deeper look at the process for page 2 from thumbnails to final color.

Now here is where things get a little weird. What you’re about to see is a process called flatting.

If you color a comic without first flatting the art, you are consigning yourself to many extra hours of labor and frustration.

Flatting is a way to tell the computer to select areas inside the black lines so that whenever you click on that particular color, you can paint inside that area perfectly. Since the computer only understands 1 and 2 - or on and off - when you tell that computer to stick to that area, that is what it will do.

There are computer programs that you can use to create your flats. I use Multi-Fill. The results are uniquely ugly, but they get the job done. Here is what that looks like.

Absolutely hideous.

But pretty much all I have to do from this point on is click each block of color and change it to whatever I like. The result is this:

I also experimented with selecting areas of the line work as color holds, but I’m getting into more complicated color technique than we may have time for at this point. But from here, I can start painting.

And the painting stage looks like this.

Since I wasn’t entirely sure exactly how I wanted to approach this color style, I took screen shots of some of the changes I made as I went along. In the shot at the left, I’ve given Aziraphale’s heavenly self a golden glow by using a color hold on the line. But I found it needed more contrast to make his figure pop, so I darkened it in the next shot.

I use the computer to create the initial flats, but I either do the final flats myself, or I have help from Julmae Kristoff and/or Dee Cunniffe.

The flats are (usually) not intended to be part of the final work. They are a technical tool.

For example, here are the original, computer-generated flats for one scene in Good Omens.

And here are the secondary flats by Julmae Kristoff.

And here is my final color work.

Since I’m running behind on the book, I’ve brought in Dee Cunniffe to do some extra color work. He is a wonderful colorist, as well as an excellent flatter. I’m not sure to what extent I’ll be handing pages to Dee at this point, because I’m very controlling, and I want to make absolutely certain there are no stylistic anomalies in the art, and I want all the Crowley and Aziraphale pages for myself, is that too much to ask?

I use Faber Castell Pitt Artist pens for my inking. I sometimes use an old-fashioned crowquill as well, but Faber Castells are easier to control, and the ink uses real pigment instead of dye like many markers. All of my originals are created with longevity in mind: acid-free and lightfast. I want the drawings to be fade-proof.

And that is a quick tour of the work so far.

A thousand thanks to Neil Gaiman and the Dunmanifestin team for their incredible kindness and patience, and that goes double for all Good Omens supporters out there. Your indulgence is appreciated more than I can adequately express. I am truly sorry to have been the cause of the delay in the book, but I can only make it up to you by doing my very best.

And that is what I am doing.

BTW, many years ago, I found a little yellow duckling who was getting beaten up by the other ducks, so I saved him and took him to my home to live until my parents adopted him, since they had a nice yard and a pond, and I didn’t.

He had a birth defect and could not fly, which is probably why the other ducks were pecking at him.

He got to stay in the family house, and eat goldfish crackers, and swim in the tub. Eventually they built him his own house. We called it the Duck Majal.

He lived for ten years.

I named him Fred because I’d been watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s when I heard him quacking for help that day we met, and Holly Golightly’s brother was named Fred.

So, here’s to you Fred.

Until next time.

[dc418writes]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Ari + pinned down + “Fuck, sweetheart, I love it when you whine so pretty for me.”

*incomprehensible screeching* ok ok calm down self no pressure 👀 lol but thank you Siri for this prompt! And all who read I hope you like what I came up with☺️!

Mine

✨Pairing✨: ex!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: As luck would have it, your ex is there to save you from a creep. Some coincidence right?

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, soft/dark-dark elements, mention of sexual harassment, violence (man-man), unprotected adult happy funny times (please be safe everyone!), fingering, breeding kink, mention of alcohol, a couple bad language words

Your once pleasant buzz has since been replaced by a dull headache as you sit in the middle of your ex’s king sized bed. One of his shirts - smelling a mix of his cologne and detergent - covering your freshly washed body after the small bar brawl left the front of your top and skirt soaked with beer.

Every few minutes your mind wanders back to that moment where the “kind” and charming stranger showed his true colors. His touches becoming unwanted while trapping you against the bar and ignoring your protests. If it wasn’t for Ari, quickly yanking the hazel-eyed man away from you before his fist was soon meeting his cheek, you’re sure you’d be stuck somewhere and missing for God knows how long.

Maybe even worse.

A light knock on the door has a small smile curling on your lips seeing Ari in the doorway. His muscular body nearly taking up the entire space standing in his black sweats and some worn looking band tee.

“Hey, you feel alright?,” he asks and you nod. “Need anything?”

“No, just tired.”

“Get some rest. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

You didn’t want him out there though. In your current state - emotionally vulnerable and unable to get the events out of your mind - you wanted him next to you. To not be alone for tonight at least.

“C-Can you stay? Please?,” you call after him halting any further movement out of the doorway. With that tilted smile you still loved, he was soon removing his shirt and joining you under his sheets.

“Of course sweetheart.”

His thick arm wrapped around your middle with your back against his front, it was like old times how instantly safe and comfortable you felt. How you fit together so well, it was as if you’d never even broken up in the first place. And when his nose bumps behind your ear barely touching one of your special spots, that familiar flip returns to your stomach as well.

“Goodnight.”

“Night Ari,” you whisper, but you already know sleep is a far off concept from your highly active brain still focused on the bar. Trying to force you into reliving every detail as if helping you study for your own exam.

So many minutes pass of just feeling the air from Ari’s nostrils against your neck and hearing cars run by that you’ve accepted you probably won’t be sleeping tonight.

“That pretty head’s going a mile a minute again huh?,” he asks slightly startling you thinking he was asleep this whole time.

“You can tell?” He nods and you can feel the gentle scratching of his beard on your skin.

“Your pulse is a bit high; not to mention your body’s tense. Not as relaxed as I know you wanna be.”

He was always so intuitive with you. Knowing how you were feeling or if you were off without you having to even say a word. It was honestly scary sometimes how he was there with what you needed before it could cross your own mind.

“Why am I not surprised? Spot on as always,” you softly chuckle.

“Because I know you sweetheart,” he replies placing a chaste kiss to that sweet spot behind your ear. “Know all about this body. What goes on in your mind.”

His voice in your ear as his hand slowly drifts from under you and down your abdomen to the front of your thigh has you beginning to squirm. An ache quickly forming between your legs you want him to erase.

His fingertips trace a slow circle just centimeters from that junction as his lips create their own steady path down the column of your neck to your shoulder. It’s a tortuous buildup you wish he didn’t enjoy so much.

“Let’s get you to sleep, yea?”

“Please,” you shamefully beg anticipating his touch where you needed most.

And he doesn’t disappoint placing your leg over his so you were spread wide for him. His middle finger immediately dipping in your needy core and dragging just right you couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from your lips.

“Still so tight after all this time. We can work around that though can’t we?”

By the time he was done - having readied you with two orgasms - you were already in a mindless haze only capable of babbling incoherent noises, “please”, and Ari’s name.

Exactly how he wanted you as he pushed your thighs up against your chest keeping them in place with his wide upper half while his hands pinned yours over your head. You were now completely at his use as he slowly began to push into you with a low groan and silent curses how you gripped him so tight.

“Ari please,” you whined. Head lulling to the side to lie on your arm. “Need you.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, I love when you whine so pretty for me,” he finishes with a gasp finally pushing to the hilt. For your sake, he tries to start slow, but the feel of you clinching around him and all the sweet noises you’re making, it doesn’t take long for that rhythm to quicken. The squeaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping soon taking over your moans and panting.

“Mm don’t stop!”

He moans nipping at your bottom lip. “I’m the only one that can take care of you. Knows all your spots that make you dumb. Isn’t that right?”

Ari takes your whine as a yes, smirking as his mouth finds yours in a heated and numbing kiss.

“Because you’re mine sweetheart.” His pace quickens and you shriek as your release squirts to the sheets below. It only spurs him more moaning as he feels his own release approaching. “Always have been, shit, always will be.”

You want to whine and push him away with your new sensitivity and puffy folds that feel raw, but that blissed out cloud just keeps lifting you higher and higher that you don’t want to come down.

“And everyone’s gonna know it too seeing you with our little baby bump. Gonna be the best mama to our babies.” The thought of you carrying a mini version of the both of you pushes him over the edge moaning his release as you have one last one of your own feeling him fill you up with deep ruts wanting it to stick as deep as it could go.

Finally meeting that blissful high with you, a tired chuckle leaves his lips as he kisses all along your sweaty face. You’re pleasantly knocked out - mouth slightly parted - as he carefully lifts up so your legs can be stretched out again. Although soft, he doesn’t pull out; instead staying buried deep so none of him can escape.

Plus having you wrapped around him so snug, occasionally pulsing and clinching, it’s better than any blanket he could ever buy.

“Now, if only you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t have had to go through all this,” he whispers before leaving one last peck on your temple.

HiredHelp: I said only one punch! (sent 12:29 am)

HiredHelp: That’s an extra 2K (sent 12:30 am)

HiredHelp: 5K in my account by tomorrow or we meet again very soon (sent 12:30 am)

So for those who’ve read my works over the years, this is definitely a bit of new territory for me (soft/dark-dark and smut) so hopefully it’s not cringe🫣. Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for this prompt and for allowing me to play☺️! Also sorry if this is longer than a standard drabble lol

[tinartss]

some of tin's fav haikavetham fics (fic rec list!)🍓🍓

hello all i've always wanted to make a fic rec list and i feel like i've collected enough hkvh fics to make one now LOL most definitely i am forgetting to include a lot but here are a few of my faves!

notes:

check tags before reading👍

most if not all are sfw bc that is my vibe

sorted from least recent -> most recent

was gonna add little comments to each but i'm now realizing that would take up a huge amt of space so. just know that all of these changed the trajectory of my life. thank u fic authors for all u do🫶

then who? by heartslogos (T, 27k)

“Let me,” Kaveh would say with his eyes, his head, his hands. Let him what? Let him in, let him speak, let him stay, let him touch and see and listen — All of the above. Has it not always been so, the two of them like this, Kaveh and Al-Haitham? Kaveh: not quite asking, not quite taking. Al-Haitham: not quite answering, not quite offering. - Al-Haitham has been confined to bed-rest for a month. Kaveh assists. Al-Haitham recovers, they both do.

Asked and Answered by heartslogos (T, 55k)

It begins in the House of Daena, or at least, Kaveh thinks that that’s where it should begin. If one were to trace the flow of events backwards, it would lead to this moment. If Kaveh were Al-Haitham, he would insist on going further back. Further. Further. Further. All the way back, to the literal beginning of all of time and creation, possibly. But Kaveh’s brain only has enough room for so many creations at any given moment, and the works of others — while inspiring — historically don’t get students passing grades. Or even grades at all. When thinking about one’s relationship with their soulmate, it seems natural to think to a first meeting. A first introduction. Well. This can be said for any relationship. It all begins with that first brush — a name, given; a silhouette, glanced; a voice, heard.

the truest forms of love by heartslogos (T, 29k)

“Nahida said that the moment you touch the seeds is the moment you must stop speaking,” the Traveler says to him, standing between Al-Haitham and the door of the simple, small hut that is to become his and Kaveh’s for the foreseeable future. “Is there anything else you want to say?” The beak of the swan is foreign, cool and strange. Al-Haitham struggles not to flinch away from it as it slides along the side of his jaw, his cheek — imploring and fretful. One last and ineffective plea. Al-Haitham feels the warm weight of solid muscle around his neck, his shoulders — the fidget of wings, the beat of a heart. Al-Haitham’s fingers sink into soft feathers and the bones and muscles of a bird shift against his hands as he holds Kaveh close. What is there to say? Why bother to say something to someone who cannot say anything back? “Stand aside,” Al-Haitham says, slowly lowering Kaveh to the ground. “The sooner I begin, the sooner it ends.” - A story loosely based on the fairy tale of "The Six Swans".

house of cards by luminvies (T, 21k)

There is a scrap of parchment he'd created and abandoned all the way back when the two had been attending the Akademiya together. Sometime between then and the first month he has to move in with Al-Haitham, the list gets crossed out, scribbled over, crumpled up, carefully unfolded again, and revised. The working title for his tireless troubles: Ten Reasons You Cannot, Under Any Circumstances, Fall In Love With Al-Haitham.

…And how Kaveh falls anyway.

through the grapevine by katarasvevo (G, 3.8k)

Theories are passed around in the form of whispers: Professor Alhaitham probably said something that angered Professor Kaveh. Professor Kaveh, unable to let the insult slide, decided to take revenge by interrupting his precious class time. A prediction goes around that in less than ten seconds, Professor Alhaitham will proceed to offend Professor Kaveh even more with a tactless comment, which will lead to Professor Kaveh and Professor Alhaitham murdering each other. The whole class will walk out today without needing to write the test, having been traumatized by the tragic demise of the two professors. It is not a very pleasant line of thought, but it is sadly the only logical outcome.

In which everyone is convinced Professor Alhaitham and Professor Kaveh are sworn enemies, unaware that their relationship isn’t at all what it seems.

the kübler-ross model on romance by luminvies (T, 10.8k)

Kaveh smiles up at the stranger. "Sorry, he's right! I am taken. By him. But he doesn't know it yet." What. "Wait, what did you mean by that?" Al-Haitham asks faintly. "Oh, that?" Kaveh scoffs. "You're a little dense. Obviously, I meant exactly what I said. I wouldn't want to be kept by anybody but you." "But we are—" Al-Haitham trips over his words, trailing behind Kaveh as he walks purposefully through the city. "We aren't. Together. Neither of us has confirmed anything of the sort." Kaveh gives him a derisory look. "And what, we don't act like it? Some things don't have to be put into words to be understood. Ah, I forgot. Haravatat. You probably wouldn't accept anything else any other way." "It is not logical to make assumptions without empirical evidence." "You scholarly types," Kaveh mutters. "Always so particular."

So. Al-Haitham is in love with Kaveh. This has got to be somebody's fault.

Cue the five stages of grief.

The Fall by heartslogos (M, 131k)

In the third generation of Lord Sangemah Bays when all is but a dream, Lord Kusanali, from their divine seat in the Sanctuary of Surasthana stirs and reaches their hands to the sky. They arrange their fingers to capture a square of sky, humming and singing to themselves as they put the patch of star and moon and cloud through the divine calculus before they translate it into the tongues of men to be made knowable, and perhaps even understandable — and with great fortune, actionable. “Summon the court,” Lord Kusanali says, “The Third Face of God has spoken. Hear the Word through me and make your peace. For the God Kings only ever speak thrice on any given subject.” The court of Sumeru crowds the Sanctuary of Surasthana. “That which waits in the Palace of Alcazarzaray can only be absolved through a union of souls and an exchange of hearts, a lifelong journey that ends only in death.” Lord Kusanali translates. And then, beatific, “What you need is a wedding.”

set alight by celestialfics (T, 2.3k)

Since he was young, Alhaitham has followed a self-imposed, unspoken rule not to touch other people unless strictly necessary. Over the years, there have been two exceptions. One was his grandmother, whose side he would cling to as she read him books on the living room couch. She would pet his hair, and he’d lean into the touch, not unlike a kitten blissfully being groomed by its mother. The other exception was an Akademiya upperclassman named Kaveh.

transparent night by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (G, 9.4k)

“Sir, kindly do not obstruct us,” says the matra sharply. “We are in the midst of carrying out an arrest.” “An arrest?” repeats Kaveh, incredulously. “You’re arresting him? You’re arresting him? Why, what in Teyvat has he done?” The Archon Rescue Operation is going as smoothly as it possibly can — that is, until Kaveh returns prematurely from his desert trip, and runs into Alhaitham at the absolute worst possible moment. Of course he would.

this is what happens in the absence of small-talk by pencanze (T, 17k)

Haitham and Kaveh, whose travels are leading them in opposite directions, meet as strangers in a caravanserai—a travelers’ guest house. Because even opposite directions have a point of intersection or overlap, don’t they? Some might even call that point a headfirst collision. And another thing about opposite directions: they still run in parallel, even long after they’ve crossed.

trishna by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (T, 8.2k)

Down the seventh-floor passage in Vahumana, past the statue of the sage Zolfikar, and behind the third door from the left; inside a small, abandoned seminar room in the Sumeru Akademiya is a mirror cursed to show the viewer their heart’s deepest desire. Kaveh’s father smiles at him, slowly, so Kaveh can see it happen; the corners of his mouth quirk upwards and his eyes twinkle. He’s moving, alive. Kaveh hasn’t seen his father smile – not the expression itself, preserved in an old Kamera shot he kept in his sketchbook, but the very action of smiling – in almost ten years. An Alhaitham/Kaveh X Mirror of Erised AU

if they ask my gain from this world’s harvest by patchy (T, 16k)

In the silence that follows, Alhaitham seems to interpret the end of the conversation. He takes a step back into his bedroom and starts to shut the door. “I’ll pay you tomorrow,” Kaveh forces out, his voice cracking embarrassingly. The door pauses in its trajectory. Kaveh takes a deep breath. “But this is the last time,” he continues in a lower voice. “I’ll be out of your space by the end of the month.” Alhaitham pushes open the door.

The House, The Home, You and Me by sonotfine (G, 11.9k)

Alhaitham's books-hoarding situation continued to grow out of control. Kaveh magnanimously decided to offer to build a new house for him, with enough space for his ego and the books too. This was fine by Alhaitham. And, of course, he wanted it to be a house for two. -- On moving out of the old, moving on to the new, and moving forward together.

what it means to point true by luminvies (T, 9.8k)

It is biologically impossible for a man to replicate technological functions. As much as Kaveh (and colleagues) like calling Al-Haitham an index of niche and generally insignificant information on legs, he will never quite live up to the title. Here's a novel one: people must have taken to thinking of him as a human compass because they always seem to come to him when they're looking for Kaveh.

is that what I look like? by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (T, 3,8k)

Alhaitham grows a beard. Why? Who knows.

Three or Four (Or Possibly Five) Easy Steps to Living Harmoniously With Your Roommate by Bgtea (T, 28.7k)

The truth of the matter is, Kaveh has no idea how to read Alhaitham. He prides himself on being an expert at understanding people, his empathetic heart lending him the capacity to relate deeply with those around him (oftentimes to his detriment). But with Alhaitham, there is nothing for him to read; no clues from his cool expression for him to grasp. The man appears stoic all the time even during their petty bickering. Honestly, when was the last time Kaveh has seen the man do anything except smirk or frown? Does Alhaitham feel happiness? Has he ever seen the man laugh? Kaveh's mind is drawing a blank on the latter and it...bothers him deeply. -- Kaveh devises a plan to get Alhaitham to smile by being aggressively nice to the man (and also maybe if he makes Alhaitham happy, he can score a discount on his rent or something). Alhaitham thinks Kaveh ate some mind-altering mushrooms and is, understandably, confused and mildly afraid.

in weal and in woe by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (G, 26.7k)

“Oh, right – Alhaitham.” Kaveh claps a hand to his forehead. “Cyno, if you see him at the Akademiya tomorrow, don’t mention this to him, would you? I haven’t told him yet.”

“Told him?” Cyno asks slowly, a wary glint in his eye. “What exactly haven’t you told him?” “That I’m getting married,” Kaveh grimaces. “I wanted to tell him myself – I suppose I do want him at the wedding after all, you know – but I didn’t get a chance yet. You know what it’s like, trying to have a conversation with him.” It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Kaveh is a single man. That's about it, really. or: the one in which Kaveh gets married, but not to whom you think.

the hypothetical shore by heartslogos (T, 10k)

When Al-Haitham was still a student in the Akademiya he wore his hair long. As long as Kaveh’s is now, perhaps a little longer than that, even. But unlike Kaveh's, Al-Haitham’s hair was just as quiet as he was, just as cool — like a stream of silver water, fresh from the mountain pass. To this day Kaveh remembers the exact moment he thought he might be falling in love with Al-Haitham and that, perhaps, it might not be such a terrible thing.

de insomniis by liyuen (M, 32k)

Kaveh and Alhaitham live together. Nothing ever happens. Nothing ever hurts. But sometimes, when Kaveh watches Nahida idly finish her homework, he gets the feeling that he’s forgetting something important.

Kaveh must have fallen asleep at his desk again, the morning light hitting his eyes like a slap. He blinked at the soft green blanket over his shoulders. When he stumbled into the hall, Alhaitham was sitting in the living quarters with his back to him, soundproof earpieces alit. He had a stupid moment where he wanted to call out to Alhaitham. What would he even say? ‘I’m having some trouble.’ ‘Is the blanket yours?’ ‘You were right, I’m in over my head.’ ‘Can you hear me out?’ ‘Help me. Please, help me.’ Stupid. He yawned and went to stumble his way to the kitchen. From his periphery, he thought he saw Alhaitham turn towards him with a look like he wanted to say something. But that, too, surely was just a very nice dream.

The Importance of Interruption by theSealby (T, 8.6k)

Years. It has been years, yet it could’ve been yesterday they were sitting side by side, thigh to thigh, eye to eye, filled with a contentment that their future selves have lost. Maybe it would be enough to have that again. Maybe correctness has no place here—has never been the ultimate goal between them—and Alhaitham finds himself asking a very different question than intended. “How would you like to come home?” ✥ Alhaitham loathes interruptions. (All except one).

To Dream in Shades of Green by Intensely_Reading (T, 55k)

“There are three suitors who you can romance in this game. You must complete all your requirements with one of them." “Who are the three potential suitors?” Kaveh asks warily. “Your three suitors are Tighnari, the blunt Palace Chamberlain; Cyno, the standoffish Captain of the Royal Guard; and Al-Haitham, the acerbic Duke of Vultur Volans.” There's a new invention from the Yae Publishing House that turns a user's dreams into light novel stories. Kaveh has the (un)fortunate pleasure of being one of its first users. Too bad it dumped him in a romance game.

The Theorem of Narrow Interests by lumielle (M, 36k)

Kaveh clicks his tongue. “Well, I hope you are also aware that with all these requirements, you don’t get a set (A+B), or even (A+B+C). Yours is a set comprised of the entire Sumerian alphabet!” Kaveh has had enough of Alhaitham always loitering around the house. In an attempt to get Alhaitham to go out more often, he jokingly tells him to start dating someone. Much to Kaveh’s shock, Alhaitham agrees—and promptly assigns him as his personal matchmaker. And even though Alhaitham’s requirements for his ideal partner are annoyingly specific, Kaveh refuses to back down from a good challenge. He’s confident in his abilities—that is, until his own feelings start getting in the way…

Precipice by viiparyas (M, 37k)

Lately, his heart staggers at a precipice, just one breath from toppling over. Into what, he doesn’t know. After everything, after everything… He can’t help but melt easily into the intimacy between them, whether it’s by his design or not.

Kaveh has won fame and renown through Sumeru, witnessed the dissolution of a corrupt government, traveled from the trenches of homelessness to the pinnacles of a fairytale paradise. And yet something deep between his ribs screams, more, more, more.

or, Kaveh discovering what he truly wants and finally reaching for it. (Spoiler alert: it's Alhaitham)

nazar by pencanze (T, 13k)

It’s like they’re in a globed world of their own, trapped within a glazed bead. Shatterproof, soundproof, impregnable and unbreakable to anyone else—anyone besides themselves. (On superstitions, friendships, and other things that shatter.)

case study of the scribe by Jazer (T, 25.5k)

"The consequences of obtaining knowledge is the overwhelming feeling of loneliness. "

In which Alhaitham realizes that a peaceful existence does not have to mean a lonely one.

People keep coming to Al-Haitham when they want to know where Kaveh is. Al-Haitham would be lying if he said he didn't know why.

silviculture by sunsmasher (T, 13k)

Kaveh’s face is bright, young, flushed, freckled, happy. He’s wearing an Akademiya uniform and is as tall as the last time Alhaitham saw him (fifteen minutes ago) which means he’s an inch or two shorter than the last time Alhaitham saw him, because the uniform boots are heeled. He’s staring at Alhaitham with the aforementioned flush spreading like dye over the silk of his cheeks. “Kaveh,” Alhaitham says. “Don’t freak out. I believe I’ve been displaced in time.”

spitefully yours by luminvies (T, 6k)

Dear Al-Haitham, I propose that we meet this Friday at sundown on the southeast edge of the city bordering Avidya Forest. This is a marital engagement. Please come prepared with your sword at the ready. With spite, Kaveh Al-Haitham sets down the letter, letting out a long sigh. After all, isn’t the answer to dealing with domestic disputes not marriage? Isn’t that entirely contradictory to the issue?

Kaveh sends Al-Haitham martial summons to sort out their issues. Unfortunately, he makes a small error in the letter.

The Art of Misunderstanding by Anonymous (M, 7k)

"Kaveh didn't consider himself to be vain. Yet he was becoming increasingly, upsettingly aware that most associates would disagree. Vanity, by definition, refers to an inflated sense of self-importance and pride in oneself. A vain person may believe themselves to be the best in the room. They may find it absurd that all eyes do not fall on them the instant they make themselves known. A vain person may put themselves on a pedestal, believing themselves objectively skilled in their field. And though Kaveh had trust and confidence in himself as an artist, he was caught entirely off-guard to hear that others thought of him as vain." ------ AKA, Kaveh misunderstands when he overhears an upsetting conversation between old classmates. His assumption is that they are attacking his character and commenting on his personality. In reality, they're talking about his looks. Everyone picks up on it, save for Kaveh himself.

Illness, Drowning, and Other Minor Inconveniences by EulerIHKH (G, 11k)

Faced with a uniquely difficult client, Kaveh is reluctantly forced to look for help in the one architect he considers more capable than himself: his mother. But soon enough, the turmoil of Kaveh's personal life begins to seep into their professional correspondence, forcing him to reevaluate his career, relationships, and identity.

love haitham and kaveh....love these fics....so many talented writers...thank you authors <33 def missing a bunch bc my organization on ao3 is horrendous but i can update this or make another list at some point....also i would highly appreciate any recs tyy🙏

( + bonus not rec but self promo of a hkvh fic i tried my hand at writing last summer but never shared oops. here she is if you're intrigued

a comedy of errors (T, 6.7k) )

[star--nymph]

I think people forget with Cullen, and characters like Cullen, that indoctrination is a thing. We're lucky to live in an age where we have a surplus of access to resources that allow us to think critically on the structures around us, to the point where we overlook that most people won't and haven't. Cullen was raised in a backwater village where the main educators and leaders were Templars. He was likely taught scripture by Chantry Sisters, he possibly learned to read and write through them. From the day he was born, he was being taught to love and obey the Chantry with out question--and the Chantry teaches that Templars are a force of good.

So I ask you, how the hell was Cullen, at eight or thirteen years old, going to learn about the crimes of Templars? How was he going to unlearn propaganda that was fed him to him every day by people he respected and possibly loved? How was he supposed to be aware that this idolized image of Templars being the saviors of the people and even mages was a lie?

And then he gets shipped off, happily, to be trained a Templar. Again, he's put into this position where he's fed nothing but propaganda. He doesn't get a real taste of the Order being corrupted until he's out in Kinloch and he's not sure what the hell to do because what he's seeing isn't jiving with what he's been taught for nearly two decades. So yeah, he tries to justify it, he tries to have his cake and eat it too by reasoning that mages should be treated like people but also the Order wouldn't lie to him, so they must be right to act like this. The Maker always had a plan, right?

If Cullen had been lucky, maybe he could have realized earlier on that the Order was abusing mages, that he had been tricked, he could have gotten out and unlearned the bigotry that was planted inside him.

But then BAM! the Broken Circle happened and I don't see how no one gets how perfect this is for the Order? They now have a templar that is so traumatized by mages, he will literally do and say anything to justify their abuses because now? Now he's afraid.

And remember, after Origins, Cullen becomes so erratic, he has to be sent off to a Chantry to 'even him out'--where he was more than likely manipulated even further by the Chantry to be this blood thirsty agent for them. When he's shipped to Kirkwall, they could have not delivered to Meredith a better second in command.

So yeah, is it really surprising that he says shit like 'mages aren't people like you and me' when we meet him in Kirkwall? Man is sleep depraved by the looks of him, swallowing all Meredith's frenzied rhetoric on blood mages, he's seeing for himself the damage these mages are doing, he's isolated from his family, he has no actual friends, and he's living with C-PTSD among other issues. Even under the best of conditions, none of what he says or does in DA2 is surprising when you put it all together.

And yet, the man still had enough of that idealistic child left in him to realize see that Meredith was going off the deep end and that he should be protecting the mages. That's text. That's in World of Thedas. The reason why Cullen is able to turn on Meredith in the end is because he was able to see, even clouded by his fear and hatred, that what she was doing was wrong.

And all this isn't to excuse Cullen's wrongs. It's weird how every time someone brings up Cullen's history, it's assumed that it's just a justification for his actions. It's not, it's an an explanation. Cullen was a victim of the Order that became an abuser, a tool, and he is responsible for his actions.

But the thing is, by DAI, Cullen is well aware of his sins and he actively works to better himself by leaving the Order and getting off lyrium (which for most people is a death sentence). People can argue all day about whether or not Cullen's arc in DAI redeems him or was satisfying, or if he did enough to 'prove' that he was sorry or--good god--does he deserve redemption in the first place (which is such a Catholic way of looking at shit by the way; no one 'deserves' redemption; you do it to be better or you fucking don't) but the fact is that Cullen says that he wants to be better, that he sees the Order as--at the very least--flawed.

That, yes, he's still unlearning all the bigotry he held as a younger man and he's ashamed that he was like that to begin with.

You can hate him all you like, and whatever, but Cullen's story--intentionally or not--is about a man born into an oppressive society, raised to uphold its beliefs, used and abused by it, and then awakening to those lies and trying to free himself from those beliefs so he could be a better person.

And sometimes I genuinely wonder if the reason so many people hate Cullen is because they themselves might have dealt with something similar in our own oppressive society where they also had to unlearn harmful bigotry and maybe, just maybe, he hits too close to home.

[hgfictionwriter]

Changes

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie’s used to change, but lately life has hit her with one thing after the next. When her best friend announces she’s leaving, she’s left wondering where it leaves her.

Warnings: none

A/N: Short little comfort piece based on this request.

“You haven’t had any of your tea,” you noted as you watched Jessie out of the corner of your eye.

She reacted slowly. After a few moments giving you a small noise of acknowledgment before she sat up on the couch and took a brief sip of her drink. She set it back down without a word or look.

Janine delivered her news today and Jessie had been very quiet and subdued all evening. She relayed the update to you over text earlier like it was something so trivial and commonplace. You’d asked questions, but even now as the day drew to a close, she very purposefully didn’t elaborate further.

You and Jessie hadn’t been together all that long, just a few months, but you knew her well enough to know that you shouldn’t push. She’d reveal more when she was ready.

So here you were, both quietly sitting on the couch, each immersed in a book. You read the same few paragraphs over and over, thoughts going astray and losing focus, made worse by how you noticed Jessie hadn’t flipped a page in several minutes.

Eventually, Jessie shifted, restless almost. You kept your eyes fixed on your book knowing it was best to let her come to you. In time she cleared her throat and spoke into her book.

“Janine’s leaving - moving away, getting married. Heck, who knows, maybe she’ll have kids soon. Sinc’s retiring. Maybe leaving, too, to be closer to her family.” She sighed quietly, opening her mouth to speak and stalling. She sighed once more. “I don’t know.”

Jessie set down her book and sunk further into the couch. She picked at her fingers absently and was quiet for a moment before giving you a fleeting glance.

“I guess part of me feels like maybe I’m falling behind in some way.” She stared vacantly at the floor before shifting again with another small sigh. “Or being left behind. I don’t know.”

“Hey,” you interjected gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t react. “Even if it feels that way, no one’s intentionally leaving you behind. They both love you a lot and you���re important to them.” You struggled to find the right words. “I can’t say for sure, but it seems to be the nature of your work. It’s not easy to put down roots or stay in one place for long. That must be really hard though.”

Jessie exhaled, letting her head fall back against the back of the couch to stare up at the ceiling.

“It is,” she said simply.

“And you’re not falling behind. National team captaincy. You’re a consistent starter for a Shield winning team. The list goes on.”

“The National team is great, but there’s so much bullshit too. I’m doing what I can, but I can’t help but feel like I’m not doing enough,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “And I don’t always feel like I’m gelling with the team here. I may start, but I don’t know, sometimes I feel like I haven’t necessarily made the impact I’ve wanted to.”

“There’s absolutely no road map for what the national team is going through. You led them out of a near impossible situation. I’d say you did exceptionally. And as for the Thorns, even if you feel that way, your stats say otherwise. It’s still a new team for you, it’s okay to feel like you’re still finding your place.” You sought eye contact with her, which she offered briefly. “And I think we both know you’re your worst critic.”

“Well. Considering my best friend is leaving to be closer to her fiancé and to, you know, build her life and career and I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself instead, I’d say I deserve some of that criticism,” Jessie said with a slight edge in her tone.

“Jess,” you said softly. “You need to be kind to yourself right now. It’s okay to feel bad or upset. I’m sure you were supportive when she told you and we both know you will be in all of your actions. You can still feel what you feel and be a good friend - all things can be true.”

She was quiet a moment longer before chancing a brief look at you before shifting and rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

“I don’t know. It just feels like a mess,” she said with a huff. “I guess I’m questioning some things now too. A big part of why I came here was to play alongside her and Sinc and in a few short months every aspect of that will no longer exist,” she relayed. “And I left Chelsea with so much confidence that this was the right move, that I’d never grow or get more of a chance there, but things have changed so much over there now I’m wondering what would’ve happened if I’d stayed.”

You cast your gaze downward for a moment, a pang going through you at her words. You hushed it immediately and refocused on her. This wasn’t about you.

“That’s understandable,” you said. “A lot of variables have changed. You couldn’t have known that would be the case though. You made the right decision for you in the moment and that’s really all you - or anyone - can be expected to do.”

She nodded quietly, eyes still trained on the ceiling. You tried to not let your emotions get the best of you. As apprehensive as you felt by this shift, Jessie was not yours to keep. You couldn’t and wouldn’t ever want her to stay unless of her own accord.

“Is that something you want to explore?” You asked, keeping all implications and judgement out of your voice. “Talk with your agent? See what options you might have?”

She shook her head right away. “No. I’m just - just talking. You’re right, I need to give myself time here. I’m just in my head. And being hard on myself.”

She offered you a small smile.

“And in some ways Portland feels more like home to me than London did even after three or four years,” she said. “Not only just lifestyle-wise, but I wouldn’t have met you if I didn’t come here.”

Despite her words, all you could muster was a half-smile that you hoped was reassuring.

“You do seem at home here,” you chuckled, but soon grew earnest. “But, if you wanted to explore other options, I hope you know I wouldn’t hold you back. That’s the last thing I would want to do. I love you and want to support you in wherever your life takes you.”

You did your best to seem nonchalant. “We’re still new, I’m aware of that. So I hope whatever you choose to do, that it’s with solely you in mind. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Jessie turned to you now, her body language opening up as she looked at you. She took your hand.

“Hey, I know we’re new, but I love you, too. Even if everything was falling apart here - which, it isn’t, even if I’m talking like it is - it would all be worth it because I got to meet and fall in love with you.”

You held her gaze, digesting her words before smiling and nodding your acceptance.

“That’s really sweet. Thank you. I really hope you feel like there’s still a lot of good for you here - outside of me,” you said.

“I do,” she said with a soft smile. She released a quick breath, looking away before meeting your gaze again. “I just need to remind myself that everyone’s on their own path. Janine has hers. Same as Sinc. And I have mine too. They don’t need to always be parallel or intertwine. I just need to adjust.”

“That makes a lot of sense. You came here with a particular expectation and vision and it’s turning out differently than you pictured. It’s normal that you need some time to adjust.”

Jessie sighed, more contentedly this time and leaned her head on your shoulder. A rush of warmth and affection went through you and you kissed the top of her head. She wrapped her arm around your middle and cuddled in.

“Thank you for being so sweet,” she said. “And patient.”

“Of course,” you told her as you kissed her head once more.

“No. Some people don’t get it. They have a hard time giving me space when I need it. Like Janine,” she joked before humming softly. You gave her a squeeze.

“She’ll still be your best friend,” you reminded her. “You’ve spent more time apart than together and you’re solid - it’s never stopped you before.” You gave her a light nudge. “You may just have to take on more media now that Janine won’t be jumping to step in front of the mic.”

Jessie groaned with a laugh. “Don’t even put that out there.”

She exhaled, resting against you more fully.

“Truthfully, I’m feeling a bit lost or uncertain in some ways, but I have trust in myself and in the process. I know even if I’m feeling apprehensive about all of the change and upheaval around me, I know this is where I need to be. And to be here with you feels absolutely right.”

[hxrukii]

Hello there!!!!

May I request some silly headcanons of Leona & Malleus with a gn!Yuu who threatens them with blasting an air horn into a megaphone as a way to get them to stop bickering? Bonus if they’ve actually done it?

thank you!!

❝Come on peace! I don't have all day!❞

╭・๑ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲︰ʚ Stopping Leona and Malleus from bickering by threatening them.‧₊˚✦

‧₊˚↷ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬)┊❝ Leona Kingscholar, Malleus Draconia. ❞ ⸜⸜*

↷︰ʚ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ‧₊˚✦ Yuu is gender neutral and can be the same person as Reader. This is actually such a fun idea omg, I tried my best to do it justice!!

╰・𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬) ‧₊˚꒰ Threats ig. ɞ‧✦

Yuu would probably be having a bad day and wanted some peace and quiet as they made their way back to Ramshackle while leaving Grim with the ADeuce duo.

They thought that they could finally be at peace, until they saw two dorm leaders fighting in Ramshackle's lounge.

Leona and Malleus were bickering like always.

Normally Yuu would've probably brushed them off are try to calm them down.

But since they were having a bad (read: horrible) day, they instead threatened to blast an air horn into a megaphone if they didn't stop bickering.

Leona probably thought that Yuu was being unserious, so he probably just laughed it off while daring Yuu to do it sarcastically.

Meanwhile Malleus was probably just slightly amused and just chuckled quietly.

Both of them aren't taking Yuu seriously and continued to bicker. Well, more like Leona was insulting Malleus while Malleus himself remained calm and taunted Leona further.

That only irked Yuu further, who decided to go to Sam's store (since the chances that Ramshackle just has an air horn laying around on the ground is quite small), to buy an air horn and a mage phone, since my guy has everything in his store.

Sam would probably be quite confused, but business is business.

Yuu showed went back to Ramshackle to find that both boys were still bickering and threatened them once again.

You'd think that they'd listen this time but noooo, they decided to ignore Yuu once again.

That was probably the final nail in the coffin for Yuu, who actually did blow the air horn into the megaphone.

Yuu ended up scaring the living shit out of Leona, poor guy probably almost went deaf because of his sensible hearing.

While Malleus (idk if faes have sensible hearing so I couldn't tell you if he also almost went deaf or nor.) was shocked into silence.

Leona was going to scold Yuu, until he noticed their gloomy expression, and them holding the air horn close to the megaphone.

Not wanting to anger them any further, or actually go deaf in Leona's case, both of them decided to cease their bickering for once.

Yay! Yuu can finally have the peace and quiet they deserve! All's well that ends well.

"Heh, didn't think that you'd have it in you to actually do it, Herbivore. And here I thought that you were all barks no bite."

"Child of Man. I would like to apologize for my unruly behavior, though, I must say that I didn't expect you to actually do as you said."

꒰ ◁ ꒱┊❝Back to Leona, Malleus' Masterlist❞

[icyg4l]

PAC: What Do You Need to Let Go Of?

Hello beautiful people! Today is Saturday aka Saturn Day. In honor of Saturn Day, the day associated with banishment, protection and responsibility. Today is the day we let go of what no longer serves us; the day where we can no longer ignore what sits heavy on our spirits. So without further ado, please choose your Saturn.

**If you really loved this topic then you should book a reading with me, please read my guidelines and then message me privately! Also, if you had received a reading from me, don’t be afraid to leave a little feedback! Please and thank you in advance. 🫶🫶🫶

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-6)

PILE ONE: “No More Mr. Nice Guy” is what I heard. I feel like you tend to have a lot of love & compassion for people. This doesn’t necessarily translate over to the other person/people though. You need to stop being so nice, Pile One. I think you have a lot of growing up to do. There is good and bad in everyone but what really matters is how this person makes you feel. Stop caring about the feelings of other people if you aren’t going to take yourself into consideration. This is why you always get taken advantage of. It’s okay to be a moody bitch sometimes. Having a sunny disposition 24/7 just isn’t realistic. Don’t act naive when you know the truth about certain situations. Move intentionally and with wisdom. If you don’t think they won’t do that, think again.

Cards Used: The Star, King of Cups, 7 of Cups, The Fool, The Moon, The Tower, Judgment.

PILE TWO: The movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind may resonate with you. I feel like you need to let go of your ex, seriously. You don’t have to forget about them but you do need to move past this person. They have caused much turmoil in your life, especially when it comes to your mental health. They could have indirectly negatively affected your finances as well. But there is someone else who is on the horizon. They want you to see the bigger picture. They want to show you better. If you have been writing notes about what you would like to see in your future partner, expect for these qualities to show up in someone that will soon approach you. They have a beautiful, colorful aura and they will let you shine. Your ex fucked you up bad but you can recover from this. Don’t be afraid to see what love has in store for you, my love.

Cards Used: King of Cups, The Magician, 2 of Cups (RX), The Star, The High Priestess, 5 of Wands, Judgment, Strength, The Fool.

PILE THREE: You’re a Virgo/Sagittarius, aren’t you? You don’t have to know and control everything, honey. Let go of the need to be involved in everything. You have been neglecting your soul’s needs. You have a lot of potential to grow but you don’t know how to accept help nor do you allow yourself to just be. You’re so uptight and burnt out right now. It would benefit you to just walk away from stress-inducing situations. If you know you can’t take that extra shift at work, why even bother? Who are you trying to please? You are making it hard for yourself to maneuver through this world peacefully because you do not know how to enjoy what’s in front of you. If only you could see the beauty of your labor. Slow down. Why are you going so hard for? You’re so used to making things happen that you get frustrated when things don’t work out your way. A word of advice: Please just allow time to do its thing. Don’t work against it.

Cards Used: The Sun (RX), Ace of Cups, Strength, 2 of Discs (RX), King of Wands, 7 of Wands (RX), 3 of Discs, 10 of Swords, The Magician, The Hierophant.

PILE FOUR: Christmastime must be your favorite time of the year, huh? I feel like you could also have a strong connection to Mariah Carey as well. Her book is on my mind heavy as I’m reading for you. I feel like you are so used to dysfunctional relationships. You have the tendency to move fast with people. I’m going to hold your hand when I say this, they ain’t going nowhere! Let go of your lovebombing tendencies and show up as your real self. I don’t think you see this as that but it is. You don’t seem to be big on communication. I don’t think you had the best role models for any kind of relationship so you just do what you know. But this does not translate well with other people, which results in chaos. Unpack why you interact with others the way that you do. You too, have a lot of growing up to do, my friend.

Cards Used: Knight of Wands, King of Swords, Queen of Cups (RX), Four of Wands (RX), Ace of Wands (RX), The High Priestess, 8 of Wands, 3 of Cups.

PILE FIVE: “Shut up and dance.” No seriously, shut up and dance. I feel like you are someone that refuses to be seen dancing in public or just in general. There is no need to feel like that. Let go of your shyness, babe. I feel like you actually have good dance moves, you just don’t want to be seen for some reason. Dancing will help you get more comfortable in the spotlight. You have gotten too comfortable in your little bubble. The next time someone asks you to dance, accept the offer (especially if it’s zydeco, salsa or kompa 🙈). You’re never too cute to dance, pookie.

Cards Used: The Hermit, Knight of Discs, The Chariot, 6 of Wands, The Empress, King of Discs (RX).

PILE SIX: Why are you wasting your time arguing with everyone? You need to master the art of preserving your energy. Let go of the need to prove yourself/defend yourself to other people. You exist just like everyone else on this planet but somehow you always end up in a verbal altercation. Is it worth it? I’m sure there’s plenty of alternative options you could choose. Just walking away could do you some good. You are the type of person to catch someone in a lie. Instead of cursing them out, you could just laugh in their face or block them. You could channel this energy into something else. It is normal to experience anger. But just know that you could always get in trouble if you never control it properly. Get a handle on your emotions. Be more logical & cutthroat. I think you definitely could benefit from taking the high road. Your soul is tired. Give it up, babe.

Cards Used: Knight of Swords, Queen of Swords, The Lovers, 8 of Cups, Ace of Swords, The Hermit, Justice, The Moon, The Star.

[blackbat05]

Open Up

Jason Todd x Library Assistant! Reader

Plot: With a little help, you overcome your internal prejudice with an enigmatic patron.

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Had another writer’s block so really thankful for @the-slumberparty events as always! This is yet another of my self-indulgent pieces but I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the unwavering support!❤️

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

My choices:

🍧Mint Chocolate: the loner – mint chocolate is an acquired taste, so it is that one of your characters is of a similar flavour. A loner is brought out of their shell. 

🥄Cherries: meet-cute – this can be fluffy or a stereotypical first meeting gone wrong 

“It’s him again!” Miriam, the librarian whispers into my ear as I’m shelving back each book to its rightful place. I carefully climb down from the stool and observe the same man with a streak of white hair and an impressive physique to boot select another book from the Literature section.

Though a frequent visitor of the library, he was a lone wolf. Unlike patrons who greeted each other or strike up conversations, he was a lone wolf. No mingling, just quiet reading for two hours and he was out of the library to only be back the next day with the same routine. Not that it was an issue. He was easy on the eyes. Scary, but definitely easy on the eyes.

“If only I was single,” Miriam sighs fondly. “You have no idea what it’s doing to my woman parts.”

“Miriam!” I gasp, completely ignoring for a millisecond that I almost yelled at my supervisor. My supervisor who’s twenty years older but way cooler than I would ever be. She shrugs, “I just said what all women needed to hear.” She moves closer to me, thrusting a book into my hands.

“What is this?” I asked, afraid to hear her answer.

“Conversational material.” Miriam gently pushes me in the direction where our most frequent patron of the Gotham Public Library has disappeared to. “I got the circulation desk covered.” She winks and I’m not sure if regret ever sharing with her my relationship status that was as dead as a slug.

I walked towards the literature section and made my way further down to the sitting area beside the huge glass windows that stretched towards the ceiling, allowing natural light to give a warm glow to the area.

There he was, sitting casually on the maroon sofa, book in one hand and completely oblivious to the world around him.

I’m rooted to the ground, mesmerized at how his emerald eyes skim through each page carefully, capturing the essence of each word. I nearly fall into a stupor just watching this man when he suddenly closes the book and stares straight at me.

I give a squeak and my cheeks heat up. I must look like a creep to him. My brain tells me to get away from there and pretend that nothing ever happened but my feet are unsurprisingly stubborn. The man stands up to full height and my heart races a beat quicker with each step he takes closer to me.

Quick, come up with a good excuse so that he doesn’t chew you out and humiliate you for the rest of your life!

Before I can defend myself, he beats me to the punch. Not in the way that I expected.

“Hi, you’re the librarian right?”

I’m stunned for a second and have to mentally slap myself back into reality.

“Yeah! Actually, library assistant. How can I help you?” My words come out in a nervous blur and I bite the inside of my cheeks. So much for keeping my cool in front of a mysteriously handsome guy.

“Well, I was wondering if you had any good recommendations. I’ve blitzed through entire sections and re-reading Jane Austen for the fifth time isn’t exactly therapeutic.” His chuckle causes my heart to skip a beat.

“Oh darn, the reading block huh? Well there’s no such thing as that- I mean grammar wise, but I totally know how you feel, how about we go this way?” I direct him to the other section.

“It’s still Literature but it’s written by authors from different countries, different genders and colors.” I explain. “I always like to say that books widen your worldview.” I ramble, unaware of his green eyes piercing intensely into mine.

“Sorry,” I squeak sheepishly. “Am I talking too much? I’ll leave you to it.” I’m about to scurry away and possibly find a corner to die of embarrassment when he holds my wrist gently but firmly.

“I like it.” He gives me a smile that makes my belly do a couple of backflips. “Do you think you could recommend me one to start off?” His request is simple but so genuine that despite his intimidating appearance, I can’t help but to be drawn to this lone wolf that comes to the library every evening.

“Sure. How about Welcome to the Hyunnam-dong Bookshop?” I suggest. “I read it while I was feeling a little lost in life. Kind of a comfort book really.” I carefully pick out a hard cover book and wait with bated breath for his reaction.

He takes the book from me and I notice the scars on his hand are plenty - some superficial, some deep. I’m curious, but I know it’s not my place to pry. After all, the library is a safe place for everyone to be themselves.

Eyes quickly scanning through the summary of the book, he flips the books to the front and stares at it for a few more seconds before coming to a decision.

“It’s perfect.”

***

I learn that his name is Jason.

The next couple of days are no different. He comes in at exactly six on the dot in the evenings. He’ll wait for me patiently if I’m occupied with a patron and we’ll head to one of the many shelves for me to pick out another recommendation. Today was a children’s novel, The Boy At The Back Of The Classroom.

“The author intended to target younger kids as her demographic,” I explain. “But the way she explained the struggles of refugees in a simple yet impactful way through the lenses of a child, was beautiful to read as an adult.”

As always, Jason thanks me for the help. But this time, he doesn’t check the book out at self-help. I’m wondering if he wants more than one book when-

“When do you finish work?”

“Excuse me?” You tilt your head slightly, unsure if you had heard him correctly. Jason coughs to fill the silence and gathers enough courage to repeat his question.

“I was thinking if you don’t have any plans, we could have dinner?” He asks. “I know a place and we could read there. The owner won’t mind.”

My delayed response almost screws everything up when Miriam comes to my rescue.

“Of course she’ll love to! You’ve earned the time off! Go and enjoy your weekend!” She makes a shooing motion and when Jason isn’t looking, she winks at me.

“I’ll love to.” I reaffirm and the delight on his face is absolutely adorable for someone of his stature.

The more I get to know this enigma of a man, I discover more aspects of him that seem to draw me closer like a moth to the flame.

***

I’m usually not like this.

When a book gets my attention, I’ll blitz through chapters at one shot, eager to find out what happens next to the main character.

But I can’t seem to find the focus as I’ve been stuck on the same page of my latest romance novel for ten minutes, taking occasional peeks at the gorgeous man intently reading in front of me. I cover my face with the book, not wanting to appear like a creep when all he wanted was a reading buddy.

I’m starting to get fidgety and I really want to see how his nose scrunches up when he’s engrossed in the material in front of him. How he cracks his right knuckle after every chapter. How he smiles and frowns at the joy and injustices the character faces.

What I didn’t expect to see was Jason fondly watching me as I supposedly attempted to read my own book. My cheeks heat up at the sudden attention.

“Do I have something on my face?” I ask.

“You’re pretty when you’re reading.” Jason says as a matter of fact, ignoring my question. I’m sure that I’m flaming red as a tomato but this only causes him to break into a boyish grin. I’m at a loss so I end up putting the book back in front of my face, earning a chuckle from him.

He reaches out and takes the book out of my hands, putting it aside.

“Do you know why I’ve read Austen five times?”

I shrug. “I thought you just really liked the book. Predictability brings comfort. Knowing how the story ends.”

Jason shakes his head. “I was hoping you would come over and help a guy out. But I guess I was too afraid. I didn’t want to scare you. Most people don’t approach someone like me for a casual conversation.” He gestures and a pang of guilt hits me for immediately stereotyping him during my first encounter.

“I guess that makes two of us.” I say. “I was amazed at your extensive reading choices and I can’t deny that I’ve been trying to work up my courage to talk to the handsome patron at aisle eighteen.”

Jason’s eyes twinkles at my sudden confession. The man in front of me is no longer the big, scary lone wolf. All I see is a man who has come to seek for genuine human connection in the form of art. A man who is sensitive and hopes that someone would be able to embrace his vulnerability.

I know this because that is what I have been looking for all this time.

The owner reminds us that the cafe would be closing soon and we take our leave, walking under the cool spring breeze. On normal days, I wouldn’t be out this late but Jason’s presence is enough to lower my senses to the potential dangers that Gotham has to offer.

While exchanging more talks about books, we reach the bottom of my apartment.

“Thank you for the amazing night. I loved it.” I sincerely thank Jason.

He doesn’t move from his spot, fists jammed tightly in the pockets of his hoodie. It’s endearing that Jason doesn’t want to rush things even though he can. Funny for a man that I once considered mysterious is an open book.

For the first time in my life, I decide to take the first steps. I kiss him on the cheek, allowing myself to linger before pulling away to see Jason smiling bigger than I’ve ever seen before.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the library?”

“I’ll be there.”

[sanzaibian]

I look at my watch, it’s already 3 PM. He is one hour late, although I feel that he’s not as much late as he is not coming.

I sigh, and go back to the locker room. I wanted to surprise him by waiting in the lobby shirtless, but after so much time loitering and being told off multiple times by the staff, I guess I must cut my losses. I knew that he wasn’t all that fussed about me wish for a second date in the gym, even if he seems to be a health nut, but still, ghosting me like that really hurts…

As I walk next to the mirrors in the locker room, I look at my body.

Honestly, with a body like that, guys should be drooling and yearning to be my boyfriend ! Yet, when I go on Grindr to find dates, I can only find people who will take me for a quick fuck, and never agree to anything further along… And this is why, no matter how fat my muscles are, how much hair is dusted on my body, how symmetric my face is, or just… how conventionally attractive to a gay audience I may be, I find myself waiting for a whole hour for a prince charming who will never come.

With a disappointed face, I walk towards my locker. By now, it’s no use to try and squeeze in an actual workout in addition to that whole hour full of variants of nothing – not that I really want to work out at all. However, as I reach my locker, I suddenly notice Ilham standing there in gym clothes, that he has presumably just put on.

I guess you can call him a friend ? In the barest of sense ? We do talk sometimes, only the bare minimum, but he’s always the one who leads the conversation… Well, you can’t fault me he’s so ridiculously hot without even trying, it makes me feel self-conscious even when I look how I look ! And, as if on queue, he notices my gloomy expression, and immediately confronts me about it.

“Hey Vítor ! Good workout ? Why do you look so sad like that ?” He asks, way too energetic for the situation. - Ah, it’s nothing, I had a gym date, but I was ghosted…” I answer succinctly. I don’t want to dwell on it too much. - Oh…” I can almost see the gears turning in his head, as he tries to makes sense of what I say, before he gets it. “Oh ! I’m so sorry, bro ! What a bitch to abandon you like this ! Ya know, I know a few girls I could hook you up with, I’m sure they wouldn’t do that ! - I’m sorry, girls won’t do.” I smile at his answer. “Once again, I’m gay ! - Sorry bro, I forgot again ! I swear I can make up to you !” He apologies.

He’s Azerbaijani, and due to how homosexuality is seen over there, he has a really hard time conceiving of masculine gay people. But he tries, and that’s by far the most important.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry ! But I won’t hold you up too much, especially since I already butchered my workout by waiting for him.” I urge him, as I do want to come home sooner than later. - Oh, too bad… then see you next time, bro ! Have a good afternoon ! - Have a good workout !”

He smiles to me while I wave him goodbye, visibly trying to empathize with me, before leaving the locker room in a small trot. This is how far our “friendship” goes, just simple courtesy when we see each other in the gym, which isn’t often since I don’t have a lot of time to go in the first place, and nothing beyond. I could likely try to deepen our relationship, but I feel we don’t actually have much in common, since he’s much more of a social butterfly than I’ll ever be, no matter how eager he may seem to get to know me, with all of these allusions of making me meet people or inviting me to parties.

Finally reaching my locker, I open it and find inside all my regular clothes, my phone and my other belongings, as expected. However, I also find a small piece of paper inside.

Curious, I examine it, and notice that there are actually stuff written on it. Handwritten. A secret message ? In the gym ? That’s weird…

It reads :

“You with no name and no house, do not forget who you are.”

I try to find a signature of any kind, but I do not find anything but this… warning ? poem ? I don’t really know what it’s supposed to be…

But whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to have much substance. I guess it’s not that important for me to take further notice of.

I stick the piece of paper inside my bag and take my clothes. I’m happy to have thought of taking two sets of clothing, since with loitering this long in the lobby, the staff needs to see me leaving, even if it originally was in order to have something to wear for the after-workout date. So I change, I stock everything in my bag, and leave the gym, bidding farewell to the staff at the same time.

Once I’m out of the gym, I look around to find somewhere secluded enough. I wouldn’t want to do anything in public, after all. So I walk around a bit, until I find a public bathhouse, in which I enter, since it is perfect for what I’m about to do.

See, I have quite a big secret… or rather, you know the secret, but you don’t know why it is a secret…

Suddenly, my muscles start mellowing out, my abs fading, while the rest seem to deflate. My pecs start retreating inside my body while my shoulders narrow, losing at the same time all the muscle mass making them fuse into my neck. My v-line disappears, my calves and my arms thin out, and I’m losing mass all round. At the same time, the light dusting of hair on my torso starts thinning out, just like my big beard, losing loads of length until only a few short hairs on my lip and on my chin remain. My hair also grows wildly, covering my forehead in messy coiled hair, losing any order it may have had. And as both of these processes come to an end, I lose a few centimeters of height, while my face rearranges to become more square, my facial features arrange themselves in a less symmetrical way, until it all becomes… well… not a model’s face, just a normal guy’s face.

Here is the secret : the guy that was in the gym wasn’t the real Vítor Nunes. This is the real Vítor Nunes. Just a normal guy, a bit skinny-fat, a bit twinky, a bit nerdy, but most of all an unremarkable guy. And that normal unremarkable guy gets out of his big clothes to go into his small clothes, complete with jeans and a red t-shirt. When everything is secure, I go back out to the street to head to the cafe I go to every time after the gym.

I think I owe you an explanation.

The way I look right now is the way I always looked – well, minus aging. However, one day, about a year ago if my memory serves me right, I suddenly gained the ability to transform. I still don’t know what caused it, but all of a sudden, when I concentrate, I can change my body to reflect what I have in mind.

Of course, I’m gay, so my first instinct when I discovered this gift was to give myself big muscles, and so they magically grew. God, I loved it, it was so exciting to see my muscles swell in the mirror, it’s really a one-of-a-kind experience ! However, this is also when I learned of the limits of this power : it’s actually really uncomfortable to maintain another form for too long, especially when it’s quite far from my normal form. If you have that experience, it’s a bit like when you are in high heels, everything starts to become tricky to do (don’t ask me how I know that). That’s why when I tried to become a woman, it was so uncomfortable I could barely remain like that for a few seconds before I made my boobs go away. Therefore, while I have access to a very hot persona, I can’t maintain it forever, meaning it’s not actually that useful aside from some kind of party trick.

However, the temptation was always too strong.

I used to be a virgin, both in sex and in romance, and the dream of prince charming was a reoccurring one, especially for someone as lonely as I am. However, with this power, I could spend some time in another body, in a body in which I could look like god amongst men. And so, the Vítor Nunes you saw, the one well-thought out to be as attractive for gay men as I could think of, was born. And it’s using his body that I lost my virginity in what could be its own sub-story.

But it never went beyond that, a quick one-night stand, even though I looked very hot and not very picky. I don’t even know what I am doing wrong ! Like, sure, when I’m on dates, the other guy always wants to directly fuck, but still ! Suddenly, someone hails me.

“Hey ! Vítor ! You hear me ?”

I’m jerked out of my thoughts, and quickly cobble an answer.

“Oh, er… hey, Satoshi ! I… didn’t notice you here ! - Well, I noticed.” He answers me, dryly.

He’s always been quite dry with me, and I don’t know why. We go to the same university, and are in the same curriculum in writing, although most of our classes reflect our different paths throughout this degree. So we talked in the few classes we had in common, but nothing more, really. I guess he’s the closest person I could classify as a “friend”, and even that is a stretch. Recently, though, he’s been acting quite weirdly. I know that he’s started attending the gym, and he’s also bleached his hair. I wonder if he is trying to impress someone or what...

“What are you doing in this part of town ?” He asks me. - Oh, I… I was just at the gym, I want to be healthier, you see…” I half-lie, hoping he will be convinced. - I see…” He looks at me, squinting. He doesn’t seem convinced. “Well, what matters is that you become the real you. Now, I’m sorry, but I need to go. Bye.”

What ? What was he mumbling ? I look at him as he continues his way opposite to where I’m heading. He seems to be in quite the hurry, I wonder where he’s heading… Recently, he hasn’t got a lot of time, I always find him almost avoiding talking to people, and always disappearing once class is dismissed. Is gym this much of a time-eater or does he also have something I don’t know of ? … N-not that it interests me this much, of course, that’s his own private life !

Ugh… To save myself from my own thoughts, I enter the cafe and go at the back of the file. When I’m finally at the counter, I go to order, before the woman behind the counter, Sandra, recognizes me. I’m a regular at this cafe, after all.

“Hey Vítor, I didn’t expect you this early ! - Yeah, I had something to do with someone, but he never showed up.” I once again lie by omission, though I admittedly give her a more accurate picture. - Oh, I’m so sorry for you !” She brings her hand on her mouth to empathize with me. She’s always been very expressive. “But speaking of people not showing up, I’m guessing you want an americano, like usual ? - Yes ?” I answer, unsure where she’s heading with this. - Well that’s great ! Because a kind soul actually bought you one !”

Smiling, she gives me an already prepared americano, to which a piece of paper is attached, that I take with a confused look.

“And… to whom I owe the honor ?” In ask her. - Well, that person asked to remain anonymous ! But they told me that you should be able to piece together who they are thanks to this piece of paper I attached !” She answers, radiating in glee. Yeah, she also loves drama. - Okay… well, give them my thanks if you see them, I guess…”

I wave her goodbye and take place at an outside table. Another piece of paper ? It must be a coincidence, the consequences of it not being are way too scary for me to dwell on too much. Yet, when I read it, these consequences seem more and more like reality…

“For you really have a beautiful self, especially when you show your true face.”

It’s the same handwriting as the note I found at the gym ! Plus, when putting the two pieces of paper, it really does seem to be directly talking about my transformations… But who is it, and what do they want from me ? How did they find out about my secret ? And why this sudden… flirty tone ?

I sigh, and quickly drink my coffee. Due to the fact that it has already been prepared, it means that it’s a bit colder than usual, meaning it’s easier to drink. Wait… if it’s barely colder than usual… does this mean that the one having ordered it was here barely a few minutes ago ? But if it’s so, then how could they have slipped another piece of paper inside my locker ?

The caffeine starts hitting my brain, making me mull over the facts and imagine who could be the one to deliver these notes. Whoever they are, they seem to know my routine, since they knew that I would go to this cafe after the gym. It means that it’s very likely someone I know, or at least someone whose face I have already seen. They also have been witness to one of my transformations somehow, so they’ve likely hung out at the gym… or been one of my earlier dates perhaps ?

Everything is confusing, I just cannot find a way to make sense of all of that ! And… what will happen now that my secret is revealed ? Am I suddenly going to become a lab rat, as my weird condition is revealed to all ? Am I going to have to perform weird or even illegal tasks to stave off outing of my power ? Am I going to be recruited by a criminal organization in order to perform heists as an unknown person ?

Looking at my empty cup, I understand I’ve now gone too far in my thoughts. I’m likely not going to be coerced by a criminal ringleader to commit crimes. That’s ridiculous.

I dispose of my cup and head home. I’ve seen enough today, and I really need an actual break. So I take the bus, a few connecting ones until I’m finally back where I live. Before entering, I quickly go to check if there’s anything in the mailbox. And as if on queue, there is, some random account statements and other official stuff… and another of those papers.

They know where I live ! Now I can actually be scared ! For sure they’re going to make me do crimes or intern me inside a research center, I know it ! Shaking, I take out the piece of paper, and read it. It is written with the same handwriting as the others, so it confirms the fact that they do know a lot about me, but… er… eh ? Here is what it says :

“You are always worthy of love, so never forget the above.”

Wait wait wait, from the beginning, the flirty was what it was all actually about ? It is a love declaration ? … I guess it does rule out the criminal possibility… So who could it be ?

Thinking about it… It can’t be Sandra at the cafe, her shift wouldn’t let her go in the gym when I was there, and she was the one saying that they bought the coffee and left me the message. It can’t be Satoshi, although he could have bought me coffee, he couldn’t put the message in my locker, since I didn’t see him entering the gym, and he was actually walking towards the gym when I saw him. Plus, he’s so dry with me I’d think he hates me before I’d think he loves me. It can’t be Ilham, although he could have put his message in my locker before I entered, he’s currently at the gym, so he couldn’t buy me coffee. Plus, to my knowledge, he’s straight, and he’s still learning English, so he couldn’t have written such a complicated “poem”.

And I didn’t see anyone else during my little trip, so it could literally be anyone else !

But wait… looking back at the three pieces of paper, of the sequence they put together… it reminds me of something… I open my door and quickly make my way to my computer. I need to check something. To check a certain creative writing homework I had in first year.

And finding it… yes. I was correct. This is directly taken from it. The homework we did in duo back in first year of college. It’s weird… is it… really him ?

I close back up my computer, put down all of my stuff while continuing to mull over this revelation. But all of my thinking leads me to one conclusion and one only : I need to call him. So I take out my phone and do just that.

“Hello, Vítor ? Why do you call me ?” He asks, picking up almost immediately after me calling. - I just wanted to ask… do you remember our creative homework, back in first year ? - Yeah, I do, of course I do. - And… have you recently used it for anything ?”

I hear a sigh. Of course I was right.

“So you understood that it was me. I think we both have things to say to each other, so let us meet. - I guess we do.”

And so I go back out of my house, back to where it all started. Back to the gym. I walk for a bit, take a few buses, and when I’ve finally arrived, none other than Satoshi was waiting for me in front of the gym.

“Hello again, Satoshi.” I hail him. “So, you said we had to discuss ? - Yes. Let me be clear at first : I know that you have a muscular alter-ego that you can become. I don’t know why, or how, but I know you do. - How… did you know ?” I ask, a bit anxious, while he smiles at my question. - Well, you see… since the beginning of the year, you’ve been quite absent, and it made me quite worried.” He began recounting, feeling in his way of speaking way more personal and warm. “Honestly, while at first I thought to myself that you can have your own life, and that I shouldn’t interfere with it, your presence started to feel… missing.”

Huh, I didn’t know that I turned him down this much when I discovered my power. I thought that everything was just going as usual, only talking while in public transports and all… Yeah, I guess since I started going to the gym to get hookups, I changed my route after class, meaning that it overlapped less… I didn’t consider that…

“So, one day, I decided to follow you. Discreetly, of course, until you went to that gym. I… I didn’t know why you would go in there, but following you, I saw you entering a changing room… and out left a muscular man. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that it was you. - So this is how you understood that I had powers… - Yes. But this is not the end of my tale. Because I then thought of why I cared so much about you not being available. It wasn’t the first time someone would more or less abandon me out of the blue like that, but it was the first time I was this agitated. Especially because our relationship wasn’t that deep, all things considered. This lead me to the conclusion that I… er... want to spend more time with you, and made me realize that… in truth… er…” He blushes, suddenly trailing off and having a hard time to articulate clearly. “That… that I’m in love with you.”

Although I expected it, I still blush. He’s so straightforward ! And… it’s so unexpected, all things considered ! I guess I still had in mind the possibility that he was just trying to hype me up, somehow ?

“And what really angers me most,” He continues “is that you are overt there trying to be as ‘masculine’, as ‘beautiful’ or anything else to woo people, even though you’re already great the way you are ! And how you sabotage yourself by catering to this image of yourself you invented, going to the gym and all…”

I don’t know what to say. I guess I’ve been really focused in being as much of a gym rat as I could, else my cover would be ridiculous…

“Is it like that ?” I can finally manage. “That people don’t bye the muscular self I have ? - No. I- I don’t think that’s it. It’s more that you do it too well, so they don’t see you as anything more than a gym rat. I guess it all feels wrong and not personal, because it’s not you ! You’re forcing yourself to be someone you’re not ! B-but… since I have the privilege of knowing who you really are… I want to say that the real you is more. It’s beautiful, and warrants love…” He says, blushing even more. - H-how are you saying this with a straight face…” I answer, smiling, while being swept by the wave of awkwardness he radiates. - I’m not… But I really want to tell you what things really are. Because you deserve it.” He takes a large inspiration. “So. Do you want to go out with me ?”

By now, I fully knew what was coming.

And I know my answer.

“Yes, I do.”

“Hey, I’m home !” I announce, coming back home.

However, I do not find any answer to my call, even though Satoshi is supposed to come to my house this evening. He’s likely not there yet, I’m sure taken by his work, meaning that it’s going to be at least a small while until he makes it here.

I smirk. I know what to do to him. He will hate that, but it will be way too fun an opportunity to pass up. So I go to my room, completely undress, and take out some of the special clothes I still have stashed in the corner of my cupboard. In particular, I take out a very big par of jeans, the kind that would usually never fit me.

Then, all of a sudden, I feel my muscles tense up. They’re pulsating, getting progressively bigger and bigger. My pecs are the most noticeable of all of them, rounding up and sagging down in big globes attached to my torso, but everything else gains in mass. My shoulders crack as they’re pushing apart, muscles growing between them and my neck, and a light dusting of black hair starts appearing on them. They descend all over my body, on my torso, beneath my armpits, in my crotch, and on my legs. My crotch also embiggens, the hose hiding inside taking more and more place, while on the rear side my ass cheeks firm up, and gets bigger just like the pecs upstairs.

As it all happens, my face also itches, as the little hairs that are on it start growing, elongating my face at the same time. These hair grow all over my chin into a long beard, while on my lip they only grow denser. At the same time, my face rearranges to become more conventionally attractive, more symmetrical, and my hair starts shortening a bit, and becoming more well-kept.

As the last few details of my transformation arrange themselves, I put the large jeans on, not even bothering to put on underwear before that. Yup, that’s very sexy alright, he’s gonna hate that ! And so my muscular self takes place in the living room, waiting for his beloved to come.

Because this time, I know my prince charming will come.

================================================

Hey ! A story (that was again hard to write) for the last few hours of Pride Month, if it's even still on in your part of the world ! ^^'

I hope we in the TF community can recognize all the colors of the rainbow and all the letters of the acronym, including bi (and similar identities) and trans people ! And I also hope that we can all help to build, each to our ability, a better and more tolerant world (especially in the face of the rise of hateful ideologies around the world, yes I'm quivering at the results of my elections ^^')

So yeah, happy pride, everyone !

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Episode 10: The Couch

Wow @lurkingshan, it’s like you really know me! This scene is exactly what I was going to talk about for Episode 10 because the fucking TENSION put so much weight in to the air when I was watching that I could hardly breathe. 

CHRIS CHIU

THE ACTOR THAT YOU ARE

Scene Breakdown time!

First of all, I love the little couple dynamic moments we get between Lili and San Pang, where Lili has to tap San Pang in to Yuan and Qian’s fight. San Pang arrives and in a very strategic move informed by knowing Qian and Yuan for a significant amount of their lives, he arrives with food he knows will go over well with Qian and will test Yuan’s ears (he comes down the stairs from his room to throw the food away after all). 

Which, let’s just acknowledge that when Yuan comes downstairs and takes all the alcohol and greasy food away, the moment Yuan approaches the coffee table, Qian looks back towards the TV screen pretending he is disinterested in the situation at hand. But his eyes give him away because he keeps glancing at Yuan when he thinks he can steal a second. And stealing is what he is trying to do because he keeps his head pointed directly towards the television, while looking for half a second at Yuan out of the corner of his eye when Yuan leans over to collect the food. After that moment, Qian does not look towards Yuan again until Yuan has turned around and Qian can stare at his back. 

It must be said. Chris is a phenomenal actor, because even without seeing his face, just the top of his head, you can kind of tell the mood that Qian is in as Yuan walks away, because he turns towards Yuan. We see Yuan look in Qian’s direction, Qian moves his head further back to look at San Pang, then looks away shaking his head. I acknowledge I’m probably reading too much in to it, but I can feel the incredulity radiating off of that head shake. 

Yuan heads up the stairs, and Qian looks towards the staircase only after Yuan has disappeared. His head movement is so much more obvious than his previous motions that it literally looks like Qian is breaking character, or like he was previously frozen and had only now been allowed to breathe. Qian’s eyes look up towards the staircase (towards Yuan’s absence), then downward as he thinks about his next move, then back towards San Pang, then down once more as he makes a decision about whether or not he wants to Start The Conversation. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul (my savior)

Qian here is trying to check that Yuan is out of earshot because he Will Not have the The Conversation about His Feelings if there is a chance that Yuan will know about it. 

With the heaviest of sighs, Qian gives San Pang an opening: “Did you buy those for me, or for him to throw away?”  Qian asks, and once again looks out of the corner of his eye, getting serious “Or for him to throw away?” 

And there is no doubt in my mind that it is the latter. San Pang bringing food that would trigger Yuan’s care instincts towards Qian, cause Yuan to intervene, and San Pang to bear witness to the tense and angry energy from Yuan towards Qian and force the issue. I think it’s partially why Qian does not deliberate for long in starting the conversation despite his hesitancy. 

San Pang scoffs and says in response “He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t care about you. Xiao Yuan can’t bear to leave you alone.” holds up the salad as a physical example of the care that Yuan has for Qian. 

gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Qian gives another giant exhale and looks contemplative. Something that I do find really important in good acting is the use of internal monologue. Qian always has something on his mind that he is sitting with. And the benefit of a scene like this is that the production team, and the camera trust the strength of their actors to hold the silence that settles over the room as Chris runs the gambit of Qian’s internal thoughts. 

Qian is well and truly sitting with the acknowledgement of Yuan’s feelings from San Pang. Maybe I am wrong because I am not an actor, but I do not have the kind of intentional and conscious control over my face to have the kinds of lip twitches that Chris has when Qian is thinking about Yuan’s care for him. They may have twenty seconds of silence on screen, but that does not mean the scene isn’t still in motion. There are so many little things happening in the span between San Pang’s comment about Yuan and his next reflection on sending Yuan away. 

“Xiao Yuan can’t bear to leave you alone,” Qian turns that over in his mind, to me it’s like he’s feeling the weight of it on his tongue, in his body. Qian looks up, and then around, and tosses the remote to the side, breathes heavily again. That feels like a begrudging acceptance of the statement. At the very least it is permission from Qian to proceed with the difficult conversation. 

“Before I had Yuan leave the country, I had been thinking I was doing the right thing for you two. But seriously, be honest, did you feel empty when Yuan was away?”

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Qian blinks twice and we cut to a flashback of a lovely little isolated frame of Qian feeling Yuan’s absence. We cut back to a close up of Qian’s face and his lip twitches. Which I love because it feels like an involuntary admission. We know Qian, we know that boy is stubborn and stoic, that he muscles through all the pain, that he does not let many people see his weaknesses. San Pang asks Qian if he felt empty and Qian does. not. move. He holds exactly the same position, lounging on the couch with his hand behind his head like he is unmoved, unaffected by San Pang’s question. But that little twitch of his lip gives him away. San Pang has struck a nerve. San Pang has forced Qian to hold a spotlight to the feelings he’s been trying to numb for the last four years. 

“Let me tell you something. When Lili and I first got together,” 

I don’t know about anyone else, but I snorted at the way Qian turned his head to look at San Pang in warning. We still have not seen Qian approve of that relationship. And San Pang knows that he’s staring at the precipice of some truly hot water, which is why he follows up with a “hear me out.” 

Qian relaxes and once again turns to look away from San Pang. From San Pang’s position very little of Qian’s face is visible. So Qian keeps holding a position that will give San Pang as little of a chance of reading him as possible. 

“I’ve struggled too. I…I always wondered what happiness could I bring her? Was I doing the right thing? How could I face you? And then…I felt it wasn’t right. Life is too short.”

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Again, I just have to say. CHRIS CHIU IS A PHENOMENAL ACTOR. He does not move a muscle, but you know Qian is locked in on what San Pang is saying because of how he moves his eyes. When San Pang says “life is too short” you can actually see the moment where Qian starts paying more attention to San Pang’s words, because he looks away from the TV and more downward in thought. 

“Getting hung up over it for years, would it be worth all the lost time?” 

Chris changes how he breathes here. You can see Qian take in a deep breath, but he holds it for a few seconds, he lets his nostrils flare, and then you see a large release of breath in the movement of Qian’s chest. This is really really getting to Qian. That nostril flare was not because he was breathing in. Because he’d already taken a breath. It was not because he was breathing out, because we see that happen a few seconds after the nostril flare, without his nose moving again. When Qian flares his nostrils, he is holding his breath, for a rather noticeable amount of time too. 

I love Chris because he embodies Qian so well, I can almost feel the way Qian is feeling internally in all the subtle little ways Chris plays with how Qian holds and releases tension and attention. 

“Who’s been good to me?”

Qian blinks twice, letting the question hit him, and only then does he finally release his breath. 

“Who put me before themselves?” 

San Pang looks at Qian after he finishes asking these hypothetical questions. But Qian is still looking ahead towards the TV, trying to come across as disengaged in the conversation as possible. And San Pang notices that, and that is why he continues to talk. Because Qian is hearing him, he’s listening and processing, but he isn’t engaged. He hasn’t put his body in to the conversation yet, he hasn’t responded to anything that San Pang has said to him. So San Pang keeps pushing. 

“A lot of things are only between you and Yuan. Unless you really have something against being with a guy, Yuan’s the only one who will be by your side, no matter what. Are you really not going to confront it?”

And I love that we pull away from that question to Qian looking like he is lying in a therapist’s chair. And Qian holds that position he has been maintaining throughout the conversation for a few seconds longer. The number of times he blinks the only indication that what San Pang has said is getting through and that Qian is mulling it all over. 

And only then, after San Pang has said all these things about Qian and Yuan’s relationship, in a way that is not judgemental or against the idea of these brothers becoming romantically involved. Only after San Pang has said that Yuan would be by Qian’s side no matter what does Qian set his jaw and push himself up in to a sitting position to continue the conversation. 

San Pang does not know what happened at Le’s gang beyond them being beaten up. So while it is highly likely that he is aware saying that Yuan would follow Qian anywhere is opening a can of worms, he does not understand how much ammunition he has just given Qian to talk about the danger that loving him too deeply has put Yuan in.

We do not give enough credit to film actors for maintaining continuity across scenes, because this man sits up and the first thing Chris has Qian do is massage the back of his head, where the pain of his blood clot sits. I could probably sit here all day trying to talk about all the little facial expressions he does as Qian sits up and starts preparing himself to be vulnerable with San Pang. But we can leave it as merely that. Qian is getting ready to talk to San Pang about some deeply personal stuff.

Personal stuff that Qian usually does not typically get in to. Like, San Pang says he knows what Qian went through, but I do not think he does. I do not think Qian has told him about the sexual assault, or San Pang would not have been trying to throw women at Qian. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

“San Pang.” He pauses, and you can see the way he is still noodling, thinking about whether or not he wants to talk to San Pang about all this. And notably, he does not meet San Pang’s eye when he begins “Do you know…” Qian looks to the side, he frowns a little bit, he taps the palm of his hand against the top of the couch arm. It feels so childish and small of him in a way that really struck me. Qian is nervous, he is redirecting that energy in to his motions. In to the tapping, in to looking away, in to not having to reveal deep personal truths sitting that close to another soul. “Do you know what my biggest wish in life is? My biggest wish in life is for them to be happy,” 

Ohhhhhh how that breaks my heart. Qian has suffered so much, he has done so much, he has survived so much. If you were to ask me, I would bet that Qian has never been happy. He was forced at a very young age to take over the role of caregiver. He is both a brother and a father to Yuan and to Lili. And it is a testament to Qian’s love for his family, and the pain he is willing to put himself through that Lili is so bright and vibrant and naive about some of the workings of the world. I believe that Lili is happy. I believe that Qian has succeeded in at least that much. But that is not something he has had a chance to do. “Even if the world comes down, I’ll hold it up.” I have not forgotten that line from last episode. Qian would hold the world together if it meant ensuring his sister’s happiness. 

I do not know what it is, but there is something in the way Chris moves his mouth after he says “My biggest wish in life is for them to be happy,” that just absolutely destroys me, because he makes himself look like this is such a huge confession. 

“Mine is the same.” 

gif from @wanderlust-in-my-soul

“I just want them to grow up healthy and happy, because I’m their big brother.” Qian’s words become so breathy and he’s jabbing his finger straight in to the arm of the couch to drive home his point. These are the words that matter, this is the wish that matters. Qian’s feelings, Qian’s happiness have nothing to do with it. If he’s empty so be it, as long as his siblings are happy and healthy he will wound himself a thousand times over. His fucking face here, once again is just…When Qian takes in a breath, it is shaky. You can tell by the movement of his jaw, which looks like it is moving from side to side a little bit. As he approaches the end of his sentence, it feels like he is trying not to cry. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Yuan’s life might be summed up in two words: Wei Qian 

But Wei Qian’s life is summed up in five: 

Because I’m their big brother. 

“We grew up together. You think I don’t know how hard life’s been on you? But you know that Yuan’s feelings for you are different.” 

Qian looks away incredulously, and there is something else there too, I think. Something in the way that Qian’s eyebrows furrow, the way his mouth hangs open, the way he breathes out. I don’t know that he can really believe that this conversation is happening right now. That San Pang would let these words reach the light of day, that he would acknowledge them so openly, so matter-of-factly. 

“We’ve tried everything. We even sent him abroad for years. You were miserable every day. You love him and he loves you.”

We get more of Qian’s thinking face here as San Pang says these words, his mouth agape, his breath quickening, his eyes moving back and forth as he sorts through his own thoughts. 

But I need to acknowledge San Pang. He has such an intriguing connection to Qian and his family. San Pang has power of Qian, because his parents are Qian’s landlords. He and Qian have been best friends for a very long time, and even though I think it is true that San Pang likely knows the most about Qian’s life history, he does not know it all. He is still, in many facets of his life, acting like a kicked dog and backing down every time he tries to push back against Qian now that Qian knows that he and Lili are together. But when push comes to shove. When Qian’s happiness is impeded, when Qian’s health is at risk, he will tell Qian what Qian needs to hear. 

Whether or not Qian is truly having a hard time parsing through his feelings for Yuan doesn’t matter to me as much as Qian getting permission from multiple people to actually pursue the relationship. In acknowledging all of this, San Pang, the man who at one point told Yuan he could like anyone but Qian, the man that sent Yuan away for four years, is telling Qian that it is okay for Qian and Yuan to be together. He is the external judge that is finally accepting this taboo relationship, because he knows that if he does not show Qian that it is okay for him and Yuan to change from brothers to lovers, that neither Qian or Yuan will have any chance in hell of long term happiness. 

“Even if you’re not together, he’ll be sad to see you sad.” 

Off come Qian’s glasses. Shit is getting serious now. Qian rests his head on his hand, he looks away from San Pang. He really sits with it, you can see the emotions rising up in him, in the way he breathes, in the way his nostrils move, in the way his lips tremble for a second before he speaks. 

gif by @ueasking

“I’m scared, you know?” he turns to look at San Pang, and he sucks in a huge breath through his nose. It’s the first time we’ve seen him breathe so obviously that way throughout the entire scene. GOD, QIAN KILLS ME. 

“You haven’t even tried. What are you scared of?” 

And this is the fascinating thing for me, right? Outside of Yuan, San Pang is Qian’s best friend, but they do not have conversations like this that often. San Pang has tried time and again to start the more serious conversations, to act as an emotional support for Qian, but Qian brushes those conversations off as much as he can. San Pang knew the medical issues, he knows the history, he knows about the pieces of Qian’s life that Qian can’t hide. But he does not know everything, Qian does not usually let himself be this vulnerable with San Pang, hell he hasn’t even told San Pang everything that happened with Le’s gang. He’s about to, but that is only because he is trying to make a point. 

I think he is only having this conversation with San Pang, only admitting he is scared, and confused about his feelings for Yuan because he has literally no one else to talk to about it, and he’s starting to break down to the point that he can’t hold it all in by himself. And San Pang keeps pushing. 

“You know he went to find Le by himself that day?”

“I know.” 

“He was surrounded and beaten by six people, and in the end…”

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

He sucks in a breath. It takes him a moment to find the strength to form the words, so he forms a gun shape with his hand, which he points quickly a few times to fill the silence and the stillness in the room as he finds the shape of the admission on his tongue. He accentuates the severity of the memory with one final large motion. 

“...they pointed a gun at…” 

Ah, and there it is. The real reason behind Qian’s comment about wanting Lili and Yuan to be happy and healthy because he’s their big brother. Qian will not act on his feelings for Yuan, especially not right now because he is feeling guilty. Not just for sending Yuan away, not just because of the letter, but because Yuan’s unwavering loyalty, protectiveness, and love for Qian got Yuan hurt. Nearly got Yuan killed. Again. 

Qian’s whole world, his entire drive was shattered the day Yuan confessed, when Yuan told Qian that he was suffering. Yuan’s love for Qian was hurting him. But Qian just wants Yuan to be happy and healthy. The chance at having that world again was nearly destroyed with the realization that Yuan almost died abroad. His world was made complete again when Yuan returned home. And it was very nearly destroyed once more when Yuan walked in to that gang in hopes of protecting Qian. 

There is pain in witnessing the kind of love someone would die for. 

Qian can put himself in danger for the sake of his siblings, because from my perspective, Qian never thought his life had much worth. His formative years were filled with horrific abuse, assault under the guise of love, pain, suffering, doing terrible things just to survive. But this is all because he cannot see the forest through the trees, of the life that he has built, of the home that he has built, of the safety that he has built for his siblings. 

Yuan is not allowed to believe his life is less important than Qian’s because no one has ever thought that Qian’s life was more important than theirs. 

“Fuck, you- you’re telling me that now? Then, you…Right now, you…So, you’ve lost…”

Another quick shout out to San Pang, and moreso to the writing for San Pang that they don’t always let him have these brilliant speeches. He was able to navigate the beginning of this conversation because he knew mostly what he was walking in to, but with the reveal of Yuan and Qian’s near death experience, he is fumbling. 

The camera cuts back to Qian. I’d say Qian is listening to San Pang, but not fully present. Chris is doing so many things with his face in that moment. His nostrils are flaring, his lips are tightening like he’s trying to hold something back, he’s rocking his jaw from side to side. 

gif by @ueasking

“So, this isn’t a decision I can make so lightly.” He is almost crying now, he won’t cry, I think the only time we’ve seen him cry is when he was staring the prospect of Yuan’s death directly in the face during Russian Roulette and when he was hugging Yuan afterwards. But you can see the growing frustration and the threat of the tears very clearly on his face. Qian emphasizes the statement by once again jabbing his finger into the couch. 

“I have to consider the future.”  

“Do you want him to have a future without you?”

Let me tell y’all the way I collapsed under the weight of that question…it is no wonder Qian, notoriously quiet Qian, immediately shuts his mouth. I appreciate how much San Pang is willing to be the sacrificial lamb, because that is exactly the question that Qian needed to hear. That is exactly the reality that Qian, Yuan, Lili all face if Qian does not get his blood clot treated. A future without Qian in it. 

Qian needs to know exactly what he is doing to the people he loves by continuing to delay this medical treatment, but San Pang had to know that in asking it, it would only make Qian retreat back in to himself. Which is what Qian usually does. It was a miracle in it’s own right that San Pang was able to get Qian to voice this many of his concerns, to tell him the entire truth, to talk to him about the fear. 

gif by @ueasking

Qian closes his eyes, he lets the blow of the question absorb in to him, and he nods his head. Which, in my opinion, is a brilliant choice because the way he nods does not read to me as a confession that yes, Qian does want Yuan to have a future without him in it, and more so is an admission of defeat from Qian. But because we don’t get verbal confirmation either way, we do not, San Pang does not, Yuan does not get any confirmation one way or the other about what Qian is thinking. 

Qian just nods, lets the silence hang one moment longer, and kicks San Pang out. 

“Go home.” He says. But there is a more promising follow up “Let me think about it.” 

Which feels like the only thing Qian has really been doing for the last four years, but we’ve already established, that boy is about as moveable as a brick wall, and he and Yuan both serve to lose a lot if this goes wrong. 

And there you go @lurkingshan! 4103 words on the mouth twitch, nervous body language, and tears in this scene :D

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Inside Your Head

Alex Blake x autistic!fem!reader Warnings: suggestive content (but not smut), sexual themes/innuendo, autism times (good ones, tho), established relationship, explicit language (let me know if I missed anything!) Word count: 0.9k

Summary: Alex is helping you pack up your apartment so you can move in with her. The only problem is that you keep getting distracted. And she's got to find a way to make you focus.

You stood on tiptoes to reach the books on the top shelf, grasping for their spines. You hated to un-alphabetize them but, after all, they wouldn’t stay that way in the boxes.

You jumped as Alex’s hands slipped inside your shirt and around your waist from behind. She buried her head in your neck, placing a kiss on your collarbone. You exhaled deeply, melting into her touch, placing your hands over hers.

“Need some help?” she asked.

You huffed, frustrated by your height. “...Yes.”

She reached over you to grab a few books, and for neither the first nor the last time that day, you admired her strong arms, fully on display thanks to the tank top she’d worn to help you pack. What you really wanted was to turn her around and push her up against the bookshelves, but you’d already gotten “distracted” once today. And Alex had said, in no uncertain terms, that there would be no more “distractions” until you’d finished packing up at least one room.

Alex ran her hands over the cover of a book, noting the torn dust cover, the pages grimy from years of fingers leafing through them.

“This must have been a favorite,” she observed, handing it to you.

You smiled, holding the book to your nose to smell the musty, familiar pages. “Yeah. For a long time when I was a kid.”

You sunk to the ground, leaning against the bookshelf and thumbing through the pages. Pages that had gotten you through so many things, that had ignited your love of words and stories.

“What’s it about?” Alex prompted, lowering herself to the floor next to you and leaning her head on your shoulder.

You traced your fingers over the cover. “The usual. Unlikely hero, dastardly villain, an order of pacifist monks.”

Alex furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t think that I’d classify an order of pacifist monks as ‘the usual.’”

You smiled. “I loved the monks. They’d have these huge feasts and invite all the villagers. The food always sounded so beautiful, like something lords and ladies would have eaten. I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to try strawberry cordial and candied chestnuts.”

“I’m pretty sure that can be arranged,” Alex hummed, tracing her finger across your knuckles. “Why did you like the monks so much? Or was it just the food?”

You sighed thoughtfully. “Well, I was very religious, you know that. I liked the order and the ritual of it. And I think I liked the monks because their whole lives revolved around order and ritual. Also, they had days where everyone just had to be quiet. How cool would that be!?”

Alex kissed you on the cheek. “That’s very autistic of you, darling.”

You blushed, and she kissed you again. “In a good way.”

You gently set the book in one of the boxes, but Alex snatched it out and held it to her chest.

“Mind if I borrow this?” she asked, standing to her feet and offering you her hand.

You took it and stood with her, smiling. “You, Dr. Alex Blake, want to read my children’s novel about monks?”

“I want to read anything that helps me get inside this beautiful head,” she said, grasping the sides of your face and kissing your forehead.

She looked so pretty and her hands were so soft against your skin, you just couldn’t help yourself. You gently grabbed her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. A real kiss, none of this flighty nonsense you’d been playing at all afternoon while you and Alex packed up your office. A kiss that had her fingertips digging into your skin, her tongue seeking entrance between your lips.

You pulled away for a brief moment, just to make sure that you weren’t going further than she wanted to, but the way her body lurched toward yours, the huff of breath she let out–that told you all you needed to know.

You smirked. “I thought we weren’t getting distracted, Alex,” you teased, your lips mere centimeters from hers.

You gasped as she pushed you back into the bookshelf, and one of the empty shelves pressed sharply into your back.

“It’s hardly my fault that you’re so distracting.” You felt her hands slip beneath your waistband and took that as all the encouragement you needed to start unbuttoning her silky, collared tank top.

“Ah!” she tutted, stilling your hands with her own. “One button, one book.”

“What?! No!”

“Yes, sweet girl.” Alex pulled away from you as quickly as you’d come together, and you missed the solidity of her against you. “You seem to need a little motivation, so I’m giving it to you. One book, one button. When the buttons are done, you’ll do one item, one article of clothing. And after that…” She gestured to the reading armchair that sat in the corner of your office. “I’m going to sit in that chair, completely naked, and read your little monks book until you’ve packed all this up. Understood?”

You pouted, looking at the disarray around you and knowing how unbearably aroused you’d be with Alex just sitting there. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Better get a move on, darling,” she whispered seductively in your ear. “I won’t wait forever.”

And with that, you began throwing books into boxes at random. You could worry about alphabetizing later. You had more important things to put in order this afternoon. Namely, your girlfriend.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Old love never rusts. Mihawk has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]

Mihawk's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Mihawk wants the entire conversation to end before it has even started. He's aware that his heartache and anger are bound to get the better of him. Not to mention Shanks, who will surely gloat and boast beyond tastefulness. Although Mihawk can't exactly blame Shanks for his pride - the Warlord knows that he'd behave identically, if not worse, were their roles reversed.

Shanks knows what's on Mihawk's mind. he can read it on his face, in the sombre gloom that clouds his yellow eyes. Still, the red-haired captain patiently waits for the swordsman to break on his own. It will happen soon enough as the matter of you is the only subject that rids Mihawk of his self-control. He may be a great man, in more ways than one but when it comes to the insatiable love seems unable to let go, the Warlord becomes a young boy at heart, always seeking assurance that his affections are returned. Or not outright rejected, at least. Alas, the consequences of his own selfish actions have finally caught up to him and Mihawk must face the truth - this love is never going to be returned.

"How is she?" Mihawk asks reluctantly. He hates to give Shanks the satisfaction but the famished desire of his heart is a lot stronger than his iron will and pride. "You know of whom I speak."

Shanks gives him a mocking smile, a devilish flame appearing in his brown eyes.

"I also know you have no right to ask that, hawk-eyes," he answers. "Not when you treated her like a backup option."

"I never-" Mihawk hangs his voice. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. Agitated negation will only further prove the captain's point. Truth be told, deep inside Mihawk knows that Shanks is right. He did treat as someone who would always be there, waiting for him until he came back from his escapades. Until you grew tired; until you didn't. "Where is she?" he asks angrily. But what he really wants to ask is 'If you're here, who's taking care of her? Who's looking after the one you promised to keep safe and happy?'

"Home with the kids," Shanks retorts casually. Despite his light-hearted tone, there's a hint of something mischievous between his words.

Mihawk feels disgusted. The thought that Shanks got to know you intimately and built a familial life with you fills him with rage so visceral he'd rather claw his own eyes out than think about it. And that red-haired poor excuse of a husband probably considers himself good enough for you.

Laughable, if it wasn't so sad.

"I suppose I should wish you well," Mihawk begrudgingly murmurs. Once again, his words do not quite reflect his actual thoughts. He wishes you well but couldn't care less about Shanks's well-being. Mihawk already knows for a fact that the red-haired captain is incapable of taking care of you properly so it would really be mercy if Shanks had a little accident and Dracule could play the magnificent role of a consoling party.

"You should." Shanks nods. "But I know you won't." He lets out a bitter chuckle. He's disillusioned about Mihawk's perpetual heartbreak. Some part of him still pities the Warlord. After all, how awful must be the torment that can haunt someone like him for a good decade?

"Yes, I won't," Dracule drones his words. There is jealousy, there is envy and then there is the horrible sensation that has been eating him up for the past ten years, slowly turning the man into a bitter, brutal husk of a person. And he shall never find it in him to wish Shanks well after he had shamelessly taken the person the closest to his heart.

Turning on his heel, Mihawk marches away from Shanks. He knows that if he spends another minute around the red-haired man, he will do something he might regret.

He could be a mighty Warlord, the greatest swordsman alive and, perhaps ever - truly a someone. Alas, as a wise man once said: You're nobody until somebody loves you. And everyday of his life, each time he wakes up to a cold bed and a house drowned in deafening silence, Mihawk is reminded that he is less than nobody. For it was his own grandiosity that had ridded him of the person he cares about the most.

Dracule's gnawing loneliness is accompanied only by his own thoughts, only by the rumination of his utmost failure. 'It didn't have to be like this', he reminds himself on the nights when he can't fall asleep, 'You could have had everything'.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 4

You can read part one, two, three here.

Summary: Y/n is intrigued by a certain illyrian. They open up to one another one night, but she stops it from getting out of control. With Feyre’s return, things get more tense.

Warnings: some angst.

Word count: 2.95K

Like every day, today was no different. Y/n would wake up, stand in front of the mirror for five minutes, bottle up her feelings and go on about her day. 

“How’s Elain?” She asked Nesta, who was sitting in the same armchair as always, a book in her hand.

“Same as she’s been since she got turned” Nesta replied.

“How are you?” she asked, her tone serious and low.

“Never better. I’m free to do whatever I want”.

“Are you? All I’ve seen you do is sit in that armchair, reading books every day since we’ve gotten here”.

“I’m immortal now, what difference does it make if I sit here for one or twenty years? Not everyone wants to venture into the world like you”.

“You’re upset with me” Y/n observed.

“With you, with everyone” Nesta sighed.

“I understand. What can I do to help you?”.

“Nothing. No one can do anything about this”.

Y/n closed her hands into fists, clenching so hard she almost broke her bones “at least we’re all together” she tried to find words to comfort her sister, knowing she's suffered as much as she did, but these were the only words she found, the one she’d tell herself every time she’s about to break down “we’re all together, we made it” she repeated, to which Nesta only nodded.

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, Y/n plastered on a smile, masking the turmoil beneath before entering Elain’s room.

“Elain? How are you feeling today?”.

“I want to go home” Elain repeated, as she had been for the past couple of weeks.

“I know. I want to go home too. Let’s just wait until Feyre gets back” she stroked her sister’s hair and kissed the top of her head before leaving.

Luckily, no one was in the dining room when she entered. The house offered her food, which she ate very slowly.

“Are you alright?” a voice interrupting her trail of thoughts, catching her off guard.

“What?”.

“Are you alright?” Azriel repeated, concern evident in his voice.

“Yes, why?”.

“You’re holding your fork midair” he shifted his eyes to her hand, where was holding the fork.

“Oh, I was just lost in my thoughts” she explained, lowering the fork back onto her plate.

He slid a chair two seats away from her and sat down, a plate full of food appeared in front of him as he dug right in. Her eyes trailed him all the way.

She took another bite of her food, but with a lot on her mind, she had no appetite. She wanted to stand up and leave, but seeing he just got here, she didn’t want him to think she’s leaving because of him and she did not want to be rude. Since when do I care about what other people think? she thought to herself.

“You’re doing it again” Azriel remarked, emitting a soft chuckle.

She placed her fork back down “how’s spying going?” She inquired, distracting herself from her thoughts, but also out of curiosity, not that she’d admit it.

“‘The spying’ is going slow, but we’re making progress” a smile remained plastered on his face.

“Why are you smiling?”.

“No one has phrased that question like that before”.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything”.

As they sat in silence, Azriel hesitated before speaking again “how are you coping? I can only imagine how you must feel, it’s not easy becoming fae when you hate our kind” it wasn’t a confrontation, but acknowledgment of what he’d observed.

“No, it’s not. But as you can see, I’m doing well” she lied. Not wanting to push her further, he only nodded.

“Do you sleep upside down like bats?” she spontaneously asked, making him choke on his drink from the peculiar question.

“No. No, I do not. I sleep like normal people” his eyes furrowed with curiosity as he turned to face her.

“How would I know” she shrugged “you do have wings of a bat… I just thought you had other characteristics of a bat as well” she added.

“Like what?”.

“Do you bite- or drink blood?”.

“Only when asked to” a smile tugged at his lips “and no, I don’t drink blood. Any other clarification I can assist you with?.

“No, not at the moment” she struggled to hide her amusement.

“Oh, you poor thing! But don’t worry, I’ve come to rescue you” Cassian said to his brother, as he strode in, noticing the two of them sitting alone.

She rolled her eyes at him “I was just leaving”. “And just for the future, when you want to rescue someone, maybe do it before the end” she advised before walking out

Azriel kept a stern expression before standing up himself.

“Where are you going?” Cassian asked.

“I finished eating”.

“You’re just gonna leave me alone?”.

“You’ll do fine on your own” he patted his brother’s shoulders.

—-

Y/n had always had trouble sleeping at night, but ever since her new life at the Night Court, her nightmares increased. Unable to sleep, she went upstairs to the roof. This space had become her comfort place when she needed to escape the things that plagued her sleep. Seeing as Cassian trained in the morning and Azriel being away most of the time, she thought no one would be here at night time. Reaching the training ground, occupied by her thoughts, she paid no attention to who was there. Fiddling with the blue celestite necklace around her neck, she reached the edge and looked up at the sky. Three bright stars decorating the visibly huge mountain, Ramiel.

“What’s on your mind?” sleek like the shadows, Azriel approached, snapping her back to reality.

Blinking rapidly, she muttered “don’t you ever sleep? Even bats do” Y/n quipped, attempting to deflect.

“In the morning”.

“Are you referring to the bats or yourself?”.

“Both” he let out a soft chuckle.

“As I recall, you’re awake in the early mornings, so how many hours do you sleep?”.

“Enough to keep me going. What about you? You’re awake”.

“But I do sleep in the morning. In case you haven't noticed, I eat breakfast when you’re all having lunch or dinner” Y/n reminded.

“I have noticed... You still haven’t answered my question” Azriel persisted.

“What question?”.

“What’s on your mind?”.

“Nothing”.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be staring into nothingness all day” he pointed out.

“I’m fine. It does not concern you”.

“Alright, how about I share something personal about me, and you can tell me what’s bothering you?” Azriel offered.

“And why would I want that?”.

“Out of curiosity. I’ve also noticed you like knowing things, especially when it concerns your sisters and yourself. So, go ahead, ask me anything you want? Anything you want to know”.

She contemplated for a while. “What happened to your hands?” she blurted out, one of her hands remained fiddling with the necklace.

He did not anticipate her question, but still, he answered “my brothers” he cleared his throat “my half-brothers thought it would be fun to see what’d happen when you mix oil and fire with our quick healing gifts” he explained, and shadows wrapped tighter around him.

“How old were you then?” she asked, her voice low and soft.

“Eight” a hint of darkness gleamed in his eyes.

“Were they punished?”.

“Eventually”.

“So, your father did nothing, as his flesh and blood was set on fire?” her tone shifted, her face contorted with anger.

“I am a bastard, while my half-brothers are his legitimate sons. In his eyes, they are his flesh and blood” he clarified.

“It makes no difference. You’re his son, nonetheless” she shook her head, tightening her grip on her necklace.

“It did to him”.

“What about your mother? Is she-”.

“That’s another personal question. We agreed on one. Now, it’s your turn”.

“What do you want to know?”.

“What’s been bothering you? And don’t say transitioning, you’re more concerned today”.

“I went to see Elain today. I know it takes time to heal, and I know I shouldn’t interfere with her healing process, but it- it ‘s so hard to just stand by and do nothing. I want to help her, and she doesn’t want my help. Even if she did, I don’t know what to do and how to help her. Her wedding was supposed to be in a few weeks” she sighed “ I worry about Nesta, too. Although she seems fine, I know she’s not. She used to tell me everything, and now she’s hiding from me” she opened up for the first time. Realizing that, she regretted it immediately and didn’t know why she agreed to that stupid deal. With the shadows whispering into his ears, Azriel discerned her discomfort “that necklace, do you always hold it when you’re feeling… a strong emotion?” Azriel asked, attempting to change the subject.

“I-” she looked down at her hand wrapped around the necklace ”I suppose. I never gave it a thought” she lowered her hand,releasing her grip on the necklace.

“That necklace, where did you get it from?” his eyes narrowed as he recognized the stone. She never took off that necklace, but today was the first time he'd spotted it. After all, it’s not polite to stare down at a lady’s chest, and being the gentleman he is, he never looked.

“It was a gift from my mother, why?”.

“It’s a rare stone, only found in certain places” he explained.

“You recognize it?”.

“I’ve seen something similar once or twice, but I could be mistaken”.

“I don’t think it’s from anywhere in Prythian. My mother hated your- our kind. She’d never take or gift me anything related to us” Y/n stated and his shadows danced around her.

“Why do you hate our kind so much?”.

“That is another personal question. We agreed on one” she repeated his words to him “and I’m not making another deal with you. I’ve already said way too much” Y/n retorted.

“What are you so afraid of?”.

“More questions” an amused smile crept onto her face.

“Fair enough” he raised his hands in surrender “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about tonight”.

“Good night, shadowsinger” Y/n said, heading swiftly towards the stairs and his shadows slowly retracted.

“Good night, Y/n” he murmured in a subdued tone as he watched her leave. That night, for the first time in a very long time, Azriel slept peacefully. 

The following day, Y/n didn’t go out to eat breakfast or lunch but she went out for dinner. Upon arrival. She found Cassian seated in his usual spot. Ignoring his presence, she took a seat, hoping for a peaceful meal.

“No mean comments tonight?” Cassian quipped.

“I was literally minding my own business. What do you want, you brute bastard?” Y/n replied sharply.

“There we go” he smirked.

“Your brother won't be joining us?”.

“Which one?”.

“The somewhat civilized decent one”.

“I’m assuming you mean Az. He left early this morning. He’ll be gone for a while. Why do you ask?... Aw, don’t tell me you have a thing for my handsome brother” Cassian teased.

She huffed “you wish…without him here, a war would start and I’d rather not get my hands dirty” she retorted, taking her plate and heading for the exit.

“It’s cute that you think you can take me. Perhaps if you trained with me long enough, you’d be a worthy opponent, but still, even then I doubt you’d defeat me” he taunted, his smugness evident.

“Piss off” Y/n snapped.

“Did I hurt your feelings?” he mocked.

“It would take much more than that to do so, especially coming from you” Y/n replied dismissively.

“And why is that?”.

“You simply don’t matter enough to me, to even consider anything you say, good or bad” she shrugged before leaving.

“Ouch” he murmured.

—

Being aware that Feyre was returning today, Y/n went to check on Elain before her arrival. However, what she found when she got to her sister’s room left her in shock.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Y/n spat out, her voice seething with anger. Lucien was standing in the doorway as Feyre left Elain’s room and closed the door behind her.

“Y/n, wait. I can explain” Feyre interjected.

“You brought him here? To see Elain? The fucking monster who sold us out to Hybern” her words were laced with deep-seated hatred.

“It’s more complicated than that, and he is her mate” Feyre reminded.

“He’s no such thing to her”.

“I just wanted to see her” Lucien tried to clarify.

“You don’t get to speak” Y/n pointed her finger at him.

“Y/n, he’s our guest. He will be staying with us” Feyre declared.

“You would let the man who ruined our lives, who ruined our sister’s marriage stay here with us?” she took a deep breath, trying to control her rage.

“If you would calm down and let me explain, you’ll understand-” Feyre urged.

“I’ll calm down when he’s gone. Do not let him near Elain, if you want him to stay in one piece” she warned, shooting Lucien with a glare before storming out.

“I take it you weren’t thrilled to see your sister?” Cassian smirked as Y/n passed him.

“Not in the mood today for your bullshit, brute”.

—-

The next time Y/n saw Feyre was at dinner, attended by Rhy’s inner circle, her sisters if they desired, and Lucien. She was reluctant to go, but fearing Elain might attend and be in the same room as that monster, with no one seemingly having a problem with him, she decided to go. She had arrived slightly later than everyone else. Feyre was sat next to Nesta, Rhys on her other side, Amren across from her, Cassian next to Amren, Azriel beside him, Mor opposite of him and Lucien across from Nesta, leaving two seats vacant, one next to Az and the other next to Mor. They were talking about flying lessons when she entered, dressed in a long-sleeved black gown with silver glitter that exposed her collar bones and back. Only the metal part of her necklace was visible. The upper part of the dress embraced her curves, while the lower part flowed like liquid silk as it draped over her figure. Knowing her temper, everyone stopped talking, if only to see what she’s about to say or do or who she’d pick a fight with. To their surprise, she did neither as she glanced at Azriel and took a seat beside Mor.

“What happened to you?” Y/n asked Azriel, gesturing to the wine splattered across his chest and neck. He looked down, only noticing it when she pointed it out.

“Mor spewed her wine when she heard Feyre wanted to learn how to fly” Cassian explained with a  grin.

“You have wings?” a question directed at her sister.

“Yes, I can shape-shift”. At that, the conversation continued.

“I can teach you” Azriel offered, elaborating that the other two Illyrians had been trained at such a young age that they barely remember it. To which Cassian countered they still teach the younglings the basics, which ended with Azriel explaining that it’s not the same for older individuals, and that there are fears and mental blocks. Everyone fell silent and something inside of Y/n stirred. She wondered if he was talking about his experience, not forgetting the conversation they had where he told her about his past. She did not know a lot, but seeing as his own brothers burned his hands, they probably restricted him from flying or participating in anything that would give him any kind of power.

Feyre proceeded to ask her sisters for help against the king of Hybern. Explaining that with training they could potentially close the holes expanded by the cauldron. Amren offered to train the sisters, which Y/n refused, unwilling to take part in any of this. Despite the growing frustration among the others, Feyre was grateful that at least one of her sisters was willing to help. She explained that they might need their assistance during the meeting with the high lords and this time, both sisters rejected.

“People’s lives might depend on your accounts of it. The success of this meeting might depend upon it” Feyre clarified.

“Don’t talk down to me. My answer is no” Nesta asserted, while Y/n remained silent, watching the exchange between her sisters before Nesta stormed out. Now all eyes were on her.

“Y/n, please. We need your help” Feyre begged.

“Do you know what you're asking of me?” Y/n narrowed her eyes.

“I do. And I understand your hatred of our kind, but we-”.

“You understand nothing. All my life, I have helped you. I have dedicated my life to you, to Nesta, to Elain, and never have I once asked for anything in return. But helping you and your new found family is what got us into this mess. And now what? You expect us to go to that meeting that is full of entitled bastards who did nothing all these years, who don’t care about us, about mortals and beg them for help? I would rather see them all burn and their kingdoms or courts reduced to ashes” Y/n delivered the chilling words with an unsettling calmness, her voice devoid of any hint of emotion “and just as Nesta said, if you dare bring Elain into this, I’ll be the one delivering your throat to her” she glared at everyone in the room before leaving and slamming the door shut behind her.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever @stained-glass-eyes0708 @slytherintaco @aehllitas-blog

[shaybreezy-17]

Zoro and the Aphrodisiac (Zoro x Fem!Reader)

smutty, silly lil one shot ;p

*TW: Explicit/sexual content*

Fanart credits to: @rrrotten!

This image makes me feel things every time I look at it 🙈…

-

It was a dark and stormy night on the Thousand Sunny, but that didn’t stop you from heading into the kitchen for a midnight snack…

-

“What are you doing with that?!” You whispered, slapping Nami’s hand away from the booze barrel she was pouring something into.

“Relax! It’s just a little calming sedative for the boys to chill out tomorrow morning so I can rummage through their clothes and sell some of the ugly ones for a couple extra berries.” She had her tongue out in focus, pouring a clear substance into the barrel. “Something caught my eye in one of the boutiques in town…”

She placed the bottle down to mix what was inside the barrel, so you picked it up to inspect it, making a mental note to bother her about what she wanted later.

The label had a bunch of hearts and upon reading it a bit further, “MAXIMUM STRENGTH AROUSAL SEDATIVE?” You gasped. “Nami, this might put them to sleep but we’re gonna have to spend a couple hours running away from them first… it’s like an aphrodisiac or worse! Practically liquid viagra…”

Snatching the bottle out of your hands, she read the label carefully, scrunching her eyebrows. “Well, fuck.” She chuckled nervously, “At least they’ll knock out eventually…”

“We have to do something about this before breakfast in the morning.” You sighed, placing the lid back on the barrel. “Should we just toss it out now that everyone’s asleep?”

Nami opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a larger presence behind her.

“Throw what away? Better not be talkin’ about my sake.” It was Zoro. He walked past Nami, approaching the barrel.

“Hands off, now.” He lowered his voice, eyes on your hand over the barrel. “Why are you meddling with my stuff?”

You looked over at Nami, silently begging for help.

“It’s pretty late, huh? I’m just gonna leave you two…” Nami began to back out of the kitchen, mouthing an “I’m sorry” before closing the door behind her.

She’s so dead tomorrow, you thought.

Looking back over at Zoro, “You can’t drink this, bud.” You retorted, placing your other hand on it.

He looked visibly more annoyed. “This isn’t a barrel for everyone to drink out of, it has my sake in it so who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” He began to walk toward you, forcing you to back up into the kitchen wall. “Y/N, you just pissed me off and it’s late. You should go to bed.”

“But, I-”

“Go. To. Bed.”

You rolled your eyes, wishing he’d stop treating you like a child.

If he wanted a drink so bad, he was about to find out why he should’ve stayed outta that damn barrel the hard way.

You opted for sleeping at the Sick Bay for the night as you were sure if you saw Nami right now in the Girls’ bedroom area, you’d probably lash out on her over Zoro annoying you.

-

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you felt your body being shaken by something. You opened your eyes, blinking a couple times to adjust them but all you could see was a blurry silhouette hovering over you in the dimly lit room.

“About fucking time you get up!” Zoro whispered. “I was looking all over for you.”

You sat up in confusion, rubbing your eyes. “You here to pick a fight over your stupid booze again?”

“No, idiot.” Zoro spat, “You put something in my sake! It’s making me feel… weird.”

“It wasn’t me and you’re the idiot for drinking from the barrel when I told you not to!” You slapped his shoulder.

“I don’t take orders from you last time I checked.” He scoffed.

“Yeah? Look where that got you now.” You retorted. “Get out if you don’t need anything else from me.”

He licked his lips, “You always been this feisty or am I just noticing?”

The sudden change in his behavior threw you off guard, but you knew the affect must have been kicking in worse by now.

“Oh, shut up.” You lightly shoved his chest, “That drink is messing you up, making you feel things you shouldn’t…”

He sat on the bed, leaning towards you. “The drink that you’re responsible for spiking?”

“I-I didn’t-”

He began to caress one side of your face, giving you the most intense eye contact he’s ever had, “I think it’s only fair that you’re responsible for relieving me of what I’m feeling right now…”

You were speechless. It was like Zoro left and let Sanji posses his sexy body. This was so unlike him.

You tried to dismiss the fact that the closer he got to you, the more you realized just how damn good looking he was.

“I need you, Y/N.” He whispered, thumb rubbing the corner of your mouth. His eyes followed, looking down at your lips. He licked his own intently. “Make me feel good.”

His voice made you weak in the knees. You closed your eyes in defeat, letting him finally kiss you.

You were torn between wanting him to make you his or still hating him for never taking you seriously and it caused a fire within you. You kissed him back, angry with passion.

You shoved him, making him lay down at the edge of the bed. Crawling on top of him, you kissed him again. You wanted control of him and this situation so badly… you wanted him to take you serious.

Zoro couldn’t handle his excitement as you felt him struggling to take off his pants until you felt something long and hard spring out and slap against your ass. Breaking the kiss, you positioned yourself over his pre-cum soaked penis.

“Slow and steady,” He placed a hand on your hip to support you, “I don’t wanna tear you up just yet…”

His words made your pussy throb. Looking down at his penis, you lowered yourself down, pushing him further and further inside… 

Once he was fully inside, you clenched your stomach, letting out a tiny grunt. He let out a smirk knowing he would be a lot for you to handle.

Rolling your eyes, you balanced yourself upright before you started working upwards and downwards on his cock. Zoro’s eyes closed shut and he let out a moan before stifling it by biting his hand.

This gave you a nudge of confidence as you began to quicken up your pace. Following your lead, he placed his hands on your waist, lifting you up as he began to thrust up inside you.

He threw his head back and you heard a stringy mess of the word “FuUuUcK!”

Before you knew it, he flipped you over so you were below him. “Sorry, Y/N, but I’m about to destroy you. I won’t hold back anymore.”

Without giving you a moment to even register what he had just said, he shoved himself back inside you causing you to tremble at the feeling of him completely spreading you apart, hitting all the right places.

He fucked you so hard, letting all of his past frustrations and desires toward you roll out with every thrust he made.

“Fuck! I hate you and how good you make me feel.” He growled, not letting up anytime soon.

Without even thinking, you reached up and slapped him across the face. His expression flashed with anger but quickly turned into something darker and more lustful…

“Not rough enough for ya?” He grinned, repositioning your legs over his shoulders to dig even deeper inside you, wrapping one of his hands around your throat as he spit into your mouth. “You’re taking me so fucking well, Y/N, I’m a little surprised.”

Little did he know, you began to feel an orgasm coming on. The way he was so rough with you yet made you feel so good had the knot in your stomach forming, tighter than ever, as your body begged you to let yourself cum.

Zoro hovered over you completely now, digging his face in your neck, leaving bites and kisses all over you. He pulled down your dress at the neckline, letting your breasts come out. As he sucked on your left nipple, he let his hand find your throat again. You couldn’t help but throw your head back at the overwhelming sensations he was giving you, rolling your eyes in pleasure.

“Zoro!” You screamed, “I-I’m gonna-”

Unable to finish your sentence, you felt that knot in your belly pulsating with energy that you were just dying to release. Running your fingers through Zoros hair, you gripped it as you felt yourself coming undone.

You let out a bunch of stringy moans and curse words as you came all over his cock, quivering under him as you attempted to push him out of you, but he held you and your hips down in place and kept ravaging your pussy.

You began to wimper with every additional thrust he gave you after you came. Your pussy was so sensitive now, you felt like you’d cum again any minute now.

Knowing you had no choice but to beg for him for mercy. “P-please, Zoro!” You struggled to find the words as he seemed to have fucked the shit out of the brains you once had, “I-I can’t take it anymore!”

You felt his pace get sloppier by the minute, his breathing heavier than before. You were both covered in each others sweat, but you were too dick-drunk to care or else you woulda dragged the both of you to the showers.

Zoros groans got louder as he fought back his own orgasmic sensation. His throbbing cock made your walls tighten around him even more, causing even more pleasurable agony for him. Eventually, he shoved his cock deeper inside you, making sure not to leave a single inch out. It pulsated and throbbed, followed by Zoro moaning your name loudly in your ear as he released deep inside you.

-

You were both utterly exhausted. Zoro let himself lay on you, no longer supporting up his body weight. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and your arms around his neck. You both laid in silence, only the sounds of you both trying to catch your breath could be heard.

“You look a mess.” Zoro smiled, kissing your forehead, moving a strand of hair out of your face. “A very, very sexy mess.”

“I promise you look worse.” You replied, playfully shagging up his hair. “Well, now you do. Look at that mess on your head.”

He gently flipped you back over so you were on top and he was resting on his back. He looked up at you with sleepy eyes, almost in a drunken state. “Whaddya say we both drink out of that barrel tomorrow night?”

“No way!” You slapped him on the shoulder, “You just wanna go for round two tomorrow, you horny fuck.”

His face formed into a grin as he let his hands rub your naked inner thighs as you straddled him, “More like round six, let’s keep this going ‘til sunrise and save sleeping for the morning.”

“How ambitious of you,” You chuckled, remembering he took a sedative that was clearly already kicking in, but still giving in to the urge to challenge him once more before he was out for good, “to think you’d last much longer…”

[tokyo-debunker-idk]

A Song of Ice and Aneurysm | 01

Summary: Jin Kamurai might be feared and respected as the wintery King of Frostheim, but even he is no match for a cursed honor student denser than any iceberg known to mankind.

Pairing: Kamurai Jin x Reader

Genre: Humor, romantic comedy, fluff, Jin struggling to emote, eventual smut, COMPLETE

18+, minors DNI

~~~~~

Jin: You better have a good fucking explanation, peasant

You gulp when you read the text sent by Frostheim’s haughty, commanding, somewhat terrifying Captain. It's barely been an hour since you've returned to solid ground from the terrifying foray into the sea, and part of you wants to dive right back in to avoid whatever confrontation Jin is expecting. You should have known that with your horrendous luck, something would go wrong during your mission with the Jabberwock ghouls.

Being taken to an illusory sunken ship in the guise of an undersea palace on the back of a talking turtle that ended up being progeny of a terrifying anomaly probably wouldn't have been your first guess, but being MIA for an unfortunate amount of time shouldn't have been outside the realm of expectation.

And, given the trend of everything in your life going atrociously, perhaps you should have considered the consequences of asking the Captain of the most prestigious house in Darkwick for such a huge favor, on such short notice.

Not only had he agreed and provided you with a boat (yacht, nearly) with only a day of turn-around time, but he had even staffed the craft with employees that had likely panicked upon your disappearance beneath the waves.

It wasn't exactly your fault that Towa had so impulsively leapt off the literal deep end, or that a strange wave had knocked you into the water after him. But then again, none of the disasters that have happened to you have been directly your control. You could have at least tried to prepare, or figured out a way to send communications, or had some sort of contingency plan. At this point, you should know better.

But alas, you are twice (Thrice? Ten times, at this point? Too many, definitely) the fool for being caught with your metaphorical pants down again.

You know that ignoring the text or giving feeble excuses will only piss Jin off further, so with a sigh you begin trotting towards the Frostheim dormitory, dread weighing down every footstep.

Well, at least you'll get to admire his perfect cheekbones while he yells at you.

~~~~~

"Why would I give a fuck about the boat?"

For some reason, Jin looks even more pissed than when you entered, and you feel your apprehension beginning to unravel into panic. Had you fucked something else up you can't even remember? At this rate you're going to be laundering the Captain's shirts until your curse kills you.

Though then you might be able to snag a couple for sleeping. Your premeditation of possible theft is only due to the fact that the material is the most luxurious your broke ass has ever felt, and that Jin's rich enough not to notice.

It's definitely not because his cologne smells masculine and delicious. That would be creepy.

Jin heaves an exasperated sigh, and your thoughts wander back to the reason you're currently here, at his mercy. Well, what you thought that was the reason. Now you are at a loss.

As if reading your confusion, he scowls and elaborates.

"I can always find another boat. Other things aren't so easily replaced."

Agonizing seconds pass as you wrack your brain for whatever could be so important that the Jin Kamurai, corporate heir, would have trouble replacing it. And then, finally, you get it.

Your sudden comprehension must show on your face, because his own relaxes. Thank goodness, too, because while Jin is gorgeous when he's angry, he's downright ethereal when he's not.

"Oh," you breathe, giving him a smile of understanding. "Don't worry, that dress you sent me is safe and sound in my dorm!"

Considering his background and the exquisite gowns of the other Frostheim ladies at the ball, it must have been very expensive, perhaps hand-made and thus more valuable than a factory-made vessel. You can't imagine it having sentimental value to him. To you, however, the lovely dress is not only a symbol of your first completed mission, but an indicator that some here accept you. You stomp down the hopeful part of your heart that wishes it was more than just mere acceptance, because that would be too unrealistic, too greedy.

The safety of the dress also does not seem to be the cause of his ire, however, because his expression is now so blank it's actually scarier than his anger. Deathly silence stronger than any anomalous sound-proofing begins to permeate the room as the regal ghoul stares at you, and you begin to sweat in spite of the cold. Perhaps he's upset that it's still in your possession?

You immediately feel like an idiot for not seeing it sooner. Of course it hadn't been a gift for you to keep, but rather, a loan.

It's obvious in hindsight – he needed to show that he was still the powerful man in charge of Frostheim, and you were a conveniently neutral party he could dance with to draw more eyes.

The realization stings a little more than you thought, and not for the first time you curse yourself for developing an attraction to someone so clearly out of your league. Thank god you've never let it show, soothing your pride if not your emotions.

"I-I can return it now, if you need it back!"

Your voice cracks a little, but you're otherwise able to keep your tone stable. You're a big girl, you can take a hint. It's pointless to feel an attachment to something that was never yours to begin with.

The offer does not appear to soothe the beast before you, however, because frosty silence emanates from Jin in ominous waves. You wonder if it might have been a good idea to write your will before your mission.

"Er, of course I'd have it dry cleaned first…?"

A muscle twitches in his (very well-defined) jaw, and you begin to pray.

~~~~~

Tohma Ishibashi is having what might be the best day of his entire life.

He watches silently as the illustrious, dauntless, emotionally constipated Captain of Frostheim malfunctions in the face of guileless misunderstanding. Is it really that difficult for the man to simply tell you he was worried?

You glance backwards to meet his gaze, and your own holds so much terror at Jin's oppressive silence that Tohma clears his throat to suppress a laugh.

"I believe, Y/N," the Vice Captain interjects, regretting the need to break the magnificently suffocating atmosphere, "that our Captain means that there are certain members of our house who would have been most upset had anything happened to you."

Tohma had almost decided not to interfere, because the Jin Kamurai's wordless suffering due to his own inability to communicate is a delicious treat. But all good things must come to an end, and prolonging such an entertaining scene would only take away the sweetness of the memory.

And that bashful smile of yours, surprised and a little bit grateful at the understanding that you are important to them, is worth it all on its own.

~~~~~

Jin doesn't know who to kill first. You, Tohma, or himself.

Not only have the meaning of his words flown over your head despite him practically announcing that he's grown rather fond of you, but the twitch of Tohma's lips shows that the Vice-Captain is enjoying this situation entirely too much.

He almost forgives his second when the bespectacled asshole finally deigns to clarify the situation, because your smile is warm enough to thaw the angry chill that's coated his heart.

"Ah, I see… I'm so sorry I didn't realize," you murmur, looking contrite and a little embarrassed. That's more fucking like it.

You had fucking disappeared, into the fucking ocean where humans famously cannot breathe, where there was a monster tearing fish and other anomalies apart. You were in danger, alone but for the Jabberwock rabble, and Jin was stuck here with no idea where you were and no way to get to you.

You should be sorry for making him wonder if he'll ever see your stupid ass again.

So many social climbers are willing to read far too much into a single look, a moment of eye-contact, one mere hello. He's shown you far too much favor already, even if part of it can be written off as repayment for giving him the ability to use his stigma again.

Why the fuck would he want the dress back? Do you think he wants to fucking wear it? He got it for you, tailored to your size based on the measurements in Darkwick's records. He doesn't remember what they are because they were only important to ensure the gown suited you perfectly.

You're an idiot. An irritating mixture of meek and headstrong. Someone who will take stupid menial duties from him without (much) complaint, like a doormat, but then the same day will also investigate paranormal murder with no promise of safety other than what others can give you. You're an open book, easy to read and impossible to understand.

You have grown on him, a sneaky tumor whose cells now circulate through his veins and invade his thoughts. Do you really think that just anyone has his contact information? Or has the privilege to be allowed to call him? And on top of that, be able ask for a fucking favor without immediately being blocked?

You needed a boat, so he got you a fucking boat. A big one. If one day you need the moon, he will find a fucking rocket. And eventually, he'll catch the damn flower that cursed you.

It is ridiculous that it's taken Tohma practically spelling it out for you to realize–

"I didn't know Kaito and Luca would be so worried about me that it would impact you."

You can not be fucking serious. Something dies inside of Jin, and he thinks it might be his sanity.

"It's really sweet of them, I never thought anyone would care enough about me to notice I was gone, but still. They're adults, and they need to understand the reality of my situation and their own responsibilities."

First, he's going to murder you for being this fucking stupid. Then, he is going to off the first-year brats because you think they're sweet. Next on the list will be Tohma, who has just let out what, from any less refined individual, would be classified as a snort.

And then he's going to kill every fucker at Jabberwock for putting you in danger in the first place.

"Shut the fuck up."

~~~~~

This is not going well.

In fact, if you were still on the boat Jin apparently does not care about, you would say it is currently sinking. And, true to form, you have no lifeboats prepared.

"Get out."

Ah, but one has been fortuitously offered to you, and with immense relief you turn to escape.

"Not you. Him."

You knew it was too good to be true, yet you still give Tohma a pleading glance as he bows gracefully. He meets your eyes with a calm smile. Then, like the cold bastard he is, leaves you to your doom without a backwards glance.

The heavy doors close behind him with an ominous thud, and you eye Jin nervously. His threats from your first meeting echo in your head like an alarm.

"My room has anomalous soundproofing. You can scream and cry all you like. No one's gonna hear you."

Oh god. You're fucked. You're so, so fucked.

"Come here."

Jin can't use his stigma without you, and yet you find yourself obeying, his commanding tone impossible to resist. Your legs move until you're standing before him.

Even though he is lounging on his luxurious couch and you're on your feet, he still manages to look down on you. His icy blue eyes pierce into your own, and despite the nervous thrum of your chest alerting you to danger, you're unable to look away. You've never been able to stare back at him so blatantly.

Somehow, the longer you look, the more beautiful he becomes.

You're close enough to catch hints of his cologne, and it clouds your senses as if beckoning you forward. You dazedly wonder if you should be admiring your potential murderer. But it's not your fault that he has such full lips, or beautiful silvery hair that looks perfect for running your fingers through.

It's not fair for that to be all you can think about when you're this close to evisceration.

"You're a fucking idiot."

His blunt words slice through the confused haze in your mind, and indignation restores your self-awareness.

"Excuse me? That is so ru–eep!"

He grabs your wrist to tug you closer, and you let out an embarrassingly inelegant noise as you lose your balance. And perhaps your grasp on reality, because you have somehow tumbled into Jin Kamurai's lap, practically straddling him.

No, you've definitely lost your sanity, because instead of pushing you away or lopping off your head for your transgression, your body seems to believe that one of his hands is resting on your hip, and the other is brushing hair out of your face. Perhaps you have already died, and this is actually heaven. You must have done enough good in the world to outweigh all the tampons you flushed down the toilet in the past.

Jin's thumb trails gently over your cheek, and you automatically lean into his warmth. He's normally so harsh with his words, aloof in a way that shuts others out with thick walls of ice. Yet that hidden, secret side of him is evident in the softness of his touch.

"J-Jin," your voice quivers, a whisper because for some reason it feels like you shouldn't speak any louder. If against all odds, this actually is reality, you don't want to break whatever spell is being woven around you. You don't want this gentle moment to ever end.

There's something you don't understand in those mesmerizing eyes, and his pretty, pretty lips of his curve into what, for Jin, is a smile. It spills into your chest like sunlight through the clouds, and for a moment you wonder why you were ever scared.

"Bianerus."

~~~~~

Part 2