#ASTRID IS STILL IN DENIAL

[wa-royal-tea]

I will keep rooting for Leon and Nora but I do think that they will not ever get together ☹️ You’ve never really teased us with things that were a fake out I feel like it’s pretty much been what you see is what you get so Leonora endgame is most likely not going to happen as awful as it is. We all just have to accept it and brace ourselves for whatever bullshit Astrid is about to pull to land herself a future king as her husband. The poor kids being stuck with her as their mom.

I didn't tease much about their story bcs it's something that I have been planning for so long and because they are my OCs🥺 I'd say there's still some hope for them even if it's very slim😭 We haven't seen that much of Astrid yet so we'll see what she has in store for the future! 😭

#WRTAsk #Thank you for the ask! ^^ #Also. Don't forget. Max has two wives #Who's to say Leon can't end up with Nora if he marries Astrid? #😶😶😶 #Maybe there's still hope!!! #Denial is a river in egypt 🤡 #and this arc hasn't ended yet so- #this arc ends when Part 3 ends :')

[sunshine-zenith]

Also let’s talk about how the crown affected Farmworld Finn and the Winter King

Finn Mertens isn’t the warm(get it), happy guy we’re used to. He’s still protective and badass, but he stays out of trouble. Some of it is clearly just the world he lives in — the Farmworld isn’t the safest place overall — but he shuts down at the mention of the crown. The opening scene of Destiny shows the “Snowman” attack a family, including a baby, potentially killing them — even if he doesn’t really remember that (like Simon only has fuzzy memories of being Ice King), the knowledge alone is enough to haunt someone for the rest of their life

Winter King, meanwhile, was clearly living in denial — he redirects attention to all the gifts he could give than focus on his time as Ice King, he refuses to admit the awful thing he did to his Princess Bubblegum, and he claims not to remember Betty before suggesting Simon replace her with magic. This last bit, he tries to play it off as a joke and calls it unethical, but we see an Ice Marcy in the castle — he’s aware that the shit he pulls is messed up and he’s fine with hiding it.

The thing is, he lived with the curse for like 900-ish years before finding a way to offload most of the curse onto another person. Candy Queen is a danger to him, and even if she isn’t he clearly doesn’t enjoy her being around him. But he’s choosing to let her keep existing — he’s chosen for years to let someone else suffer the way he suffered, because he’d rather face inconvenience/danger/the knowledge of how fucked up his actions are than go back to the crown

Let’s look at how these two compare to Simon — while he’s overall been more alright with talking about the way the crown affected him than Finn Mertens, he’s also willing to go back to it. Sure, Ice King doesn’t have the weight of fairly recent human murders on his back, but the guy was technically a villain and did hurt people. On the other hand, neither of them are coping with the crown’s aftermath well. Finn and Simon both seem to have unhealthy relationships with alcohol to cope with the crown — Simon’s shown binge drinking and seems to be a regular at the bar. Finn on the other hand has children and is clearly doing his best to provide to them, so I doubt he gets wasted often, and the one time Jay said he did, it seemed like an accident, but it’s notable that the only time he was willing to talk about his trauma was after he had gotten drunk

That lack of warmth (get it lol get it) I mentioned earlier is something they both share as well. Finn still has his Jake and clearly loves his dog, but he pulls his daughter away from Jake to have her do chores, even though Jake was clearly itchy and very much doesn’t have the strength or flexibility to properly scratch the itch. Finn’s children are well cared for, but quiet. They clearly don’t expect much affection from their father, and seem pretty used to him being unhappy/short with them. Simon, meanwhile, shows remorse for making Astrid cry but doesn’t make up for it when she returns. He isn’t reaching out to Marceline, even though she’s basically his daughter and would totally welcome him around (plus Bubblegum seems pretty happy to hear from him as well). It had only called back later or something, they could’ve talked about how he was trying, he clearly was, but he still needs help.

They also share an aversion to cold it seems — Simon’s reaction to the ice in his drink, all the times Finn Mertens stares into open fire (though maybe there’s a chance his wife could’ve been the Farmworld’s equipment of Flame Princess, but you gotta admit this series is really leaning into Finn/Huntress Wizard). It’s notable that, after wheedling ice magic as a teenager, the adult Finn Mertens builds a flamethrower into his prosthetic arm

Simon and Winter King, meanwhile, have some interesting parallels in how they treat Fionna and others. Simon’s so at the end of his rope and not coping that he’s willing to return to mental hell, essentially go though with magical suicide, under the guise of helping Fionna and Cake. Sure, his desire to help them is genuine, but his self sacrifice here is deeply unhealthy. Winter King is meanwhile behaving horrifyingly selfish, but with equally desperate motivations (the PB/CQ situation), and he’s hiding behind it by giving out presents and entertainment. He’s genuinely fulfilling Cake and Fionna’s wishes, and is sincerely trying to fulfill’s Simon’s “need” for a new crown. He’s gleefully giving them tours and playing games and inviting Simon into his lab. Shoot, he doesn’t have to use magic to give Cake Wi-Fi but he does anyway

The difference is that Simon is doing something self destructive with his need to help Fionna, while Winter King is distracting from how destructive his actions are by giving Fionna what she wants

Then there’s their respective Bettys. Simon’s not coping with losing Betty, like, at all. She either doesn’t exist anymore or she’s more or less become a god. He’s trying to summon a way to her instead of living his life. Winter King meanwhile is acting like Betty meant nothing to him. Sure, he’s had at least a hundred years to properly work through her death, but like. He’s a Simon. And he seems to have even less of a support system than our Simon — his only friends are a couple of ice people he made. Dude totally hasn’t sat down with his grief to work through it. He clearly isn’t letting the past go even though he’s acting like it doesn’t matter to him (the Ice Marcy thing)

I don’t have a conclusion, other than like. Ya know. The crown hurts people. And clearly the multiverse doesn’t have a therapist that specializes in helping people working through that pain

#finn mertens #farmworld finn #simon petrikov #winter king AT #ice king adventure time #adventure time #adventure time fionna and cake #long post #cy meta #suicide mention #broke 100

[e-wills-afterhours]

Pretentious Coffee, Chapter 6

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Hiccstrid

------

The first thing Astrid noticed was how clean and organized Hiccup’s bedroom was compared to the rest of the house. His carpet was spotless, unlike the living room and hallway floors sporting questionable stains. The second thing she noticed was Hiccup shutting the door behind him, muffling the party until the blood pounding in Astrid’s ears easily drowned out the rhythmic bass beats.

She was anxious, but she wanted it—to be alone in that room with a guy she hardly knew, open to just about anything that transpired between them. One bottle of beer was not enough to obscure her judgment and completely level her inhibitions. It was her decision alone to take the risk, not the alcohol.

She was not acting like her usual self, but her usual self had not done her too many favors. Life as expected had left her bored, miserable, and stewing over years wasted.

Wasted on what?

She had been certain once, but she didn’t know anymore.

The only clear thing was Hiccup, crossing the room in those sweatpants, like he paraded around that way in front of strange girls on the regular.

He pulled out his desk chair. “I hope you like dogs,” he stated in a manner that more implied she had better like dogs.

Astrid furrowed her brow, confused. “I—yeah. I mean, sure. I like them. Why?”

No sooner had the question fallen from her lips when something stirred on the bed, and she nearly yelped, taking a step back. Her nerves had made her initially blind to the large, black German shepherd curled up on the dark comforter.

The dog raised his head, seeming to eye her with equal wariness. In his stare was something wild and intelligent, reminiscent of his untamed ancestors.

“Allow me to introduce you to Toothless,” Hiccup said, his voice saturated with fondness. “It’s usually just him and me around here. Tuffnut’s often sequestered in his room, doing God knows what, and Snotlout is hardly ever home unless there’s a party. I would guess he was studying on campus if I didn’t already know he hasn’t got two brain cells to rub together.”

Astrid nodded distractedly, eyes locked on Toothless and the way he sniffed at the air, like he could smell her trepidation.

“It’s okay. He won’t bite you,” Hiccup said, joining his dog on the bed. He scratched Toothless behind the ear and added, “Unless you give him a reason.”

“I can’t imagine I would,” she replied.

“He, uh, well…he never liked Heather much.”

Astrid grinned. “Smart boy.”

Hiccup chuckled and gazed up at her expectantly, making her bristle.

Was it some kind of test? A screening process, perhaps? Did she really have to appease his dog before he would get any closer to her?

She stared down at the inquisitive animal, hoping that Hiccup was not the kind of owner who was in denial of his own pet’s temperament. Too many people got injured that way.

Toothless’s ears were perked up, and his muzzle was smooth and relaxed, not wrinkled back to bare what was surely an impressive set of fangs. Knowing the tiny bit about Hiccup that she did, the name “Toothless” was likely in jest.

It was very fitting.

Astrid took a deep, inaudible breath and held out her hand, praying that if the dog took a snap at her, he’d at least leave her with a few fingers intact. Thankfully, she did not tremble, betraying her fear. It would have been a blow to her dignity—a side of her she was not ready for Hiccup to see.

She needed to come across as confident and collected, to project a “don’t screw with me attitude” that would ensure Hiccup didn’t knowingly, or unknowingly, take advantage of her recent vulnerabilities. She was treading in new waters, far out of her comfort zone. It was exhilarating, but she didn’t want to get swept away in the undertow—that  heady rush of the new and drastically different. She was still Astrid Hofferson, and her knees buckled for no one. She swooned for no one. She was not the type to be seduced, and in all honesty, there was nothing about Hiccup that could be described as particularly sexual.

The way he carried himself was less flirtatious womanizer and more unassuming, highly intellectual introvert. His physique didn’t turn heads. That voice wouldn’t make girls shudder with desire. In all likelihood, his demeanor would sooner earn him a slap in the face than a phone number.

And yet, after being stuck in dead end relationship with the kind of jock every girl seemed to chase, Astrid wanted Hiccup’s unique appeal for reasons that didn’t entirely make sense, beyond the fact he seemed to fit perfectly into a void that needed filling. It didn’t matter, though. She had thought too hard about relationships for too long, and she was prepared to fall into his gravity.

Consequences could be dealt with later.

Astrid pursed her lips, feeling awkward with her hand outstretched for a non-compliant dog. “Is he just going to stare at me, or…?”

Toothless was undoubtedly powerful, with substantial bulk beneath his glossy coat, and he seemed happy to make her squirm, taking a brief eternity to consider her.

Finally, a large, wet tongue graced her hand from palm to fingertip. Both she and Hiccup smiled when the Toothless nudged her. Whatever reservations she had toward the dog melted.

“Oh, Toothless, you’re not so bad, huh?” She sat on the other side of him, scratching at his thick neck with both hands. “You’re not so bad!”

It registered with a sudden jolt to the gut that she was on Hiccup’s bed. There was an inherent suggestiveness to it, regardless of what unfolded. Or didn’t.

Toothless rolled onto his side, shamelessly drawing up his leg to better expose his chest. His tail thumped against the bedding.

Hiccup seemed satisfied, even a little relieved. Astrid was optimistic she had just earned his favor. After all, Toothless had not been so welcoming to his owner’s previous girlfriend. She already had a leg up on Heather.

“Well, that settles it,” Hiccup said, leaning back on his hands. He glanced down at his dog and shook his head with pity.

“Settles what?” Astrid asked, humoring Toothless and rubbing his chest and belly.

“I don’t have to kick you out,” he teased.

Astrid snorted. “Good thing. Think of all the ex-hating gossip you’d miss out on.”

“Hm. So, this is all about badmouthing Eret and Heather in private, sharing secrets and giggling about all their intolerable quirks? Wonderful. I’ve always wondered what it was like to be a teenage girl,” he quipped.

Astrid shot him a sardonic stare and he laughed, lighting up the space around him again, like he had back in the kitchen.

She could get used to it—his unusual sense of humor, their playful exchanges, and the secondhand happiness she absorbed just by being near him. Once she got past the somewhat off-putting first impression, there was something about Hiccup that was infectious—unconventionally charismatic.

His smile faded, replaced with a compassionate furrow of his brow and an uninvited hand on her knee that woke every nerve in her lower half.

He said, “In all seriousness, I’m sorry for what Eret put you through—not that it’s really much consolation, one jilted lover to another.”

His voice was as soft as the contact, hovering just over the line of innocent and acceptable.

“It’s fine,’ Astrid replied, trying to make her brain focus more on the conversation than his touch, assaulting her senses despite its gentleness. “I—thank you, by the way—I figured you’re the only person I know who actually gets it.”

Hiccup nodded and Astrid once again appreciated the understanding, though the circumstances were not ideal. She didn’t have to explain herself or show more of her wounds than was absolutely necessary. Hiccup knew they were there, but he was not interested in making her show them off, to give words to the bitterness that they shared.

“If I had only known, I would’ve given you free coffee that day. I wouldn’t have given you a hard time,” he said.

It was as close to an apology she would likely ever get for his behavior in the shop, but Astrid found she didn’t need one.

“And here I was thinking you didn’t know how to do anything else,” she teased.

Hiccup’s eyebrow quirked up and Astrid decided it was endearing.

Everything, from his freckles to the gap in his teeth, to his inexplicably magnetic wiry frame, hit the right notes. Maybe it was because she was desperate and delusional, swayed by rebound goggles that made any man that wasn’t Eret potentially worth a lay?

But surely there was a wealth of options besides a sarcastic coffee barista, yet she had zeroed in on him.

“I’m full of surprises, I’ll have you know,” Hiccup retorted with a mock-scowl. He started counting off with his fingers. “I’m a pretty decent mechanic.”

“Ohh,” Astrid hummed with a playful shimmy of her shoulders. “How irresistible.”

Hiccup grinned and continued, “I can make my own pizza, I’ve seen every episode of Doctor Who…”

He rambled off a few more things, but Astrid wasn’t listening. She was watching his lips instead of hearing the words they spoke. She was mesmerized by the upturn of his lips and the exuberance in his voice. The way the brightness of his smile extended to his eyes made her own recently burdened heart feel lighter. She wanted to card through his hair—a rich auburn—that sat in a sort of organized mess atop his head, fanning out over his ears.

Her gaze continued to his jawline, sharp and defined, unlike Eret’s rather broad structure. He was sporting the beginnings of facial hair, likely the result of shutting himself away from Snotlout and Tuffnut for the weekend. It only complimented him, and Astrid wondered what it might feel like to graze along her cheek.

She suppressed a shudder. Never before had she thought so sensually about a man—not even when she had been so certain she loved Eret.

She didn’t have any serious feelings for Hiccup, of course. She hardly knew him, and that would’ve been ridiculous.

No.

It was an attraction in the rawest sense of the word. A need, not to feel whole or complete like a dime store romance novel might suggest, but to connect with someone; to get the most out of life.

If she didn’t make a move, the missed opportunity would be a nagging reminder in the back of her head. It was about peace of mind and taking the bull by the horns. She didn’t want to wonder about him; about them; about what they could be in the confines of those sparsely decorated four walls. She could be bold, for no other reason than to simply know and—after weeks of sulking—experience something positive.

She could kiss him.

“…I actually have a sketchbook,” Hiccup admitted. “I could show you if you’re into that sort of—“

And kiss him, she did.

His lips tightened beneath hers and his whole body stiffened, and a flash of panic crossed Astrid’s mind.

Maybe she had misread him? Maybe she had assumed too much?

She grasped at a suitable apology, anticipating Hiccup’s quick break away…

But he did not recoil. His mouth twitched against hers in bewilderment.

Astrid leaned in, hands folded in her lap, hoping to reassure him that it wasn’t some kind of mistake; that she didn’t accidentally fall on his lips. She was asking if it was alright. A little after the fact, but she would take it no further without reciprocation.

Hiccup got the message. When his wide eyes fluttered closed, there came the warmth and gentle pressure of him kissing back.

The weight in Astrid’s chest lifted. She couldn’t even remember the last time she and Eret had been affectionate. It felt like eons ago.

“I guess engineering sketches really do it for you, huh?” Hiccup chuckled against her lips.

“Shut up,” she retorted, snaking a hand up his long torso to tangle in his hair.

It was every bit as soft and pleasant to the touch as she hoped it would be.

“Okay,” he murmured. “Toothless, down.”

Astrid pulled back as the dog nearly sandwiched between them leapt down from the bed. He was rather indignant about it, flopping down on a deflated pillow with a dramatic groan. Hiccup rolled his eyes. Toothless stared back at him, and he scoffed; an entire nonverbal conversation playing out between them.

Yes, it was a very good thing Astrid liked dogs. Hiccup seemed particularly connected to his.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He thinks he owns the place.”

“Spoiled, huh? Whose fault is that?” Astrid smirked.

“Ahaha, yeah…” Hiccup trailed off as she inched closer, her knee pressing against his thigh. They leaned forward simultaneously, the momentum between them was dizzying. “He really is a good…mmm.”

“Dog” was muffled, lost in the slow melding of their lips.

Astrid’s fingertips mapped his jaw, tickled by stubble on the return journey to his hair. She twisted russet strands idly as things escalated. Warm and tender kissing gave way to deeper, open-mouthed drinking of one another.

It was a little awkward, trying to learn new contours while avoiding the scrape of teeth. Hiccup tilted his head, and the new angle was better. Each hot, moist breath they shared stoked the fire growing in Astrid. It fueled a hunger she had never felt so earnestly. Even the simple, loose curl of his hands over her shoulders was scintillating.

He heightened her senses and re-calibrated her body to his touch.

She moved closer to him, capturing his top lip between her own. His grip tightened, sliding down her arms to settle at her waist. She felt the subtle twitch of his hands, wanting her closer without demanding it of her—also a departure from the rougher, grabbier sex she was used to. There was something to be said for the slow burn and exploration, enjoying the journey as much as the destination.

She had not been aware sex was compatible with manners, never giving it much thought. But, she was glad it was.

A simple brush of tongues made her feel like her heart would explode. It was already racing beneath her ribs, fit to burst like contents under pressure. The bolder she became, the more Hiccup responded in kind. The occasional breath was all that could part them before their mouths crashed together again. Both of them were looking for release—a satisfaction that had been denied for long enough.

They needed something more than what they had known.

Astrid grasped at Hiccup’s shirt, falling back against his bed and taking him with her. He landed on his hands, propping himself up, though their lower halves were pressed together. Whoops.

She could feel the beginning of his arousal against her thigh, through his pants. Her own desire spiked wildly and her patience waned. She bit her lip, gazing up at Hiccup with as pointed a stare as she could manage.

In spite of everything—their good rapport and trajectory of lust—he seemed taken aback by her obvious interest.

“Y-yeah?” he asked, a faltering smile conveyed his giddy disbelief. “Really? Are you sure? I-I mean, I’m flattered, but if this is just because—“

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” Astrid sighed, grasping the hem of her sweater.

“Yes, on multiple occasions. Nervous habit.”

She paused, cocking her head. “I’m making you nervous?” she replied.

With a wiggle of her eyebrows, she exposed the tiniest bit of skin of her abdomen to titillate him.

“This whole situation has caught me a little off-guard,” Hiccup confessed. “I mean…I don’t even know your name.”

Astrid felt like she had been walloped by a ton of bricks. She quickly scanned her memory and, indeed, she had never bothered to divulge that information.

How cliché of a college party hookup—and they were not even intoxicated.

Her hands shot to her mouth. “Oh my God! You’re right! It didn’t even cross my mind! I just assumed I had told you at some point.”

“You see, only one of us ever had the name badge,” Hiccup said. “It’s an honest mistake.” Astrid laughed and his soft chuckle mingled with it. He shook his head. “I’m all for unorthodoxy, but…”

“Astrid,” she replied, hands falling against the bed,exasperated with herself. “My name’s Astrid Hofferson.”

And she felt like the world’s biggest dunce. He smiled.

“Astrid,” he repeated, testing the way it rolled off his tongue. “I’m Hiccup Haddock. Pleased to meet you.”

“Properly,” she added.

“Right, and now that we got that out of the way…”

Astrid rolled her eyes and grabbed the hem of her sweater again. She pulled it off and threw it on the floor, cursing herself for not picking more exciting underwear—the pair with the polkadots and lace. Things were not unfolding in the way she had predicted when she had left her dorm earlier in the evening. She did not think, for even a moment, she would be lying beneath Hiccup, hot and bothered, and ready to part with some of her long-held moral scruples.

But there she was—and there he was, admiring her shirtless form. He was not the least bit phased by her old, rather dull bra.

He touched her with a warm, gentle hand on the curve of her bare waist. It was a shock to her system, unfurling an almost agonizing heat beneath her skin. His thumb stroked idly just beneath her ribs. It was intimate, but restrained. Every step forward was reintroducing her body to sensations that she had been missing deep beneath the surface layers of anger and wounded pride.

“You know, Eret’s an idiot,” Hiccup commented, running his hand over her tense abdomen.

She relaxed instantly at his tenderness.

“I keep hoping he’ll have an epiphany and realize that,” Astrid huffed.

“Would you take him back if he did?”

It was a loaded question. She could tell by the earnestness in eyes, and suddenly, things were more than casual “getting over it” sex. That night, in that bed, with that particular lanky coffee barista, things were pivotal. Greater forces were at work besides the carnal urges of young adults. She couldn’t give it a name yet, but she felt some kind of cosmic realignment hinging upon her answer.

“No,” she said, brief but resolute.

Eret was a chapter in her life with a definite end, and she was finally voicing it aloud. There would be no revisiting it; she wasn’t just using Hiccup in the interim.

“Good.”

He kissed her again with the same passion, undeterred by the interlude.

Astrid pulled at his shirt and it came off in an instant. They were a tangle of limbs, bare skin, and busy mouths.

Hiccup was much thinner that Eret, but with definition that was uniquely his own. There was an understated power to his back and shoulders that Astrid could appreciate.

She arched up, deftly unhooking her bra with one hand. Keeping the blush from her pale cheeks, she tossed it to the floor to join the pile of unwanted clothing.

Hiccup was accomplishedly ambidextrous, cradling the base of her head in one hand, weaving his fingers in her hair. His other hand fondled her breast, inherently knowing how she like to be touched…

Probably because that’s how Heather liked to be touched, and how Eret was caressing her at night—but Astrid smothered the thought.

Her brain was divided. There were too many pleasurable sensations all at once. Hiccup’s lips ghosting over her neck gave her goosebumps. Every breath they drew pressed their chests together, all the while skilled fingers toyed with a nipple like it was second nature. Their hearts were mirror images, beating in tandem, and the final shred of her awareness was dedicated to the obvious need in Hiccup’s pants.

His mouth latched on her neck, alternating between sucking and a graze of teeth. He was in no hurry; deliberate in effort but languid in pace. He caressed the other breast, and she filled up his palm like they were lock and key.

Everywhere their bodies met was seamless, like some grand hint that they were meant to be entwined. It was an absurd notion, but Astrid still moaned softly at sweep of a tongue along the line of her neck.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and she whispered a tremulous apology. Hiccup breathed reassurances against her skin. His lips fluttered along her pulse—that was the kind of warmth that lingered, leaving her nerves charged and thrumming down to the very epicenter of desire.

“Please,” she murmured; it was a simple and quiet request.

She wouldn’t beg him and she knew he wouldn’t ask her to.

His kisses continued to her collarbone before hesitating the on swell of her breast. Green eyes flickered up to meet hers, and her skin protested when he withdrew his lips.

“I will do whatever you want,” he told her. “I can be pretty agreeable at times.”

Heat pooled between her legs as she imagined quite a few things—mainly, other places he could put his mouth—but their encounter was not the adventurousness of established lovers. What she needed from him, in that moment, was to satisfy a persistent itch.

“Still working hard for that tip, I see,” she teased.

He laughed. “Always.”

“I’m not looking for anything extraordinary, Hiccup.”

Not that she wasn’t already filing away excuses to see him again…

She hadn’t been physical with anyone since days before things had ended rather abruptly with Eret. Sex with Hiccup could be a drawn out experience later. At that moment, it was an obstacle to overcome, to prove to herself there was more that life had to offer—more that she was worthy of.

“What’s wrong with extraordinary?” Hiccup replied, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s kind of what I do.”

“Ha,” Astrid retorted dryly. “Just…tonight’s not the night for it, I think.”

She could almost see the cogs turning in his head, figuring her out. He wasn’t upset or annoyed that she wanted to keep things brief. His face was full of that same curiosity he often wore around her, like she was a puzzle he longed solve.

“Not tonight? As in, there could be more nights to come?” he asked, trying to keep his face placid, though he was less successful at suppressing the hope in his voice.

“Isn’t that the point of good service? You garner repeat customers,” she answered.

He chuckled and conceded, “Okay. You win. Just a second…”

He rolled off of her and stood up, rummaging around in the nightstand. Astrid took the opportunity to shed her boots and socks, scrambling up the bed as he turned back around. There was a small, foil packet in his hand and she could’ve smacked herself for the lack of forethought.

At least Hiccup considered those kinds of things.

She didn’t know where her mind was, but it was nowhere in the realm of common sense.

Hiccup gave her an almost bashful sort of grin, like amorous kissing and groping was nothing worth batting an eye over, but contraception was suddenly too risque.

Astrid, however, was more preoccupied with the fact the condom had most likely been intended for Heather.

Once.

She wiggled out of her jeans as his sweatpants hit the floor. He, apparently, didn’t wear anything beneath his lounge clothes—a detail worth remembering.

Her eyes did a quick dart to his naked body and back, trying not to stare. She was so used to Eret that she had taken the male form for granted, but Hiccup made her want to ogle and admire like it was the first time. She wondered if there was any real etiquette about that sort of thing. It had been so long since sex had felt new.

Her eyes settled on the ceiling as Hiccup crawled back into bed. She hooked her thumbs in her underwear, pulling it down while keep her thighs as close together as possible—not that modesty would count for much in a minute.

“Are you alright?” Hiccup asked. “We don’t have to do this.”

The fact that he had no expectations, even though they were both naked and poised, made her more certain that yes, she really did have to do this—because the timing was right, and he was right, and how ungrateful would she be to pass up what the Universe had so carefully arranged?

It was more than coincidence she had agreed to accompany Ruffnut to the party, and that Hiccup lived in the very same house. What were the odds he would have come out of his room the same time Astrid had retreated indoors? Eret and Heather’s arrival has actually been quite fortuitous—the final push Hiccup and Astrid needed to connect on a deeper level than playful banter alone.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, flashing him a confident smile. It was fine, because she was neither nervous nor vulnerable to any degree Hiccup needed to know.

“Are you stalling?” she replied.

His face fell flat. “Yes,” he answered sarcastically, “because I love long chats right before I get down to business. Really builds up the anticipation. It’s not like I’m urgently hard or anything.”

Astrid laughed and buried a hand in his hair, guiding their mouths together again. The kiss was sweet and comforting, their lips brushing and holding, as a shared breath lingered thickly between them. Astrid could taste him in the air with a hint of herself in the relish she left behind.

Somewhere, a foil packet was torn, but she barely registered it over the sensual movement of thin lips over her own.

But no kiss could distract from the hand roaming over the curve of her thigh.

She crashed back to reality, granting him permission with a nod and anxious twist of her stomach—the kind of virginal jitters she never thought she’d feel again.

She anticipated a quick contact, but Hiccup only settled between her legs with measured patience. His arms came around her as their kiss deepened, and she grew accustomed to the weight of him.

She could feel everything—the ardent pulse of her need echoed by the throbbing of rigid flesh in the crease of her groin. She drew her legs up in a sort of intimate embrace, her thighs resting against his hips.

Hiccup pulled back enough to hold her gaze in tender manner that brought the color to her cheeks, more so than his deliberate rubbing against shamelessly wet folds. She imagined he might’ve told her he loved her then, had they been anywhere close to such feelings. Heather had seen that same look and heard those three meaningful words, and yet she discarded all of it without a shred of decency.

Their exes were idiots and they deserved each other.

Astrid curled up, burying her face in Hiccup’s shoulder as he sank into her. It was a few seconds that teetered on the edge of an eternity.

It was different—new friction in new places—as every inch was an unexpected sensation, an unfamiliar length with an unfamiliar thickness. Her body was both delighted and confused, satisfied and alarmed, as years of the same old routine was replaced by a new and unpredictable pleasure.

It was amazing. It was bliss. A tiny voice in the back of her mind dared to whisper it was better.

Hiccup agreed, if his moan was any indication. Astrid could get used to that sound—primal and gratified. it was good and it was right.

Her breath hitched when his hips surged forward with purposeful rhythm. She wrapped herself around him fully, using her crossed ankles to encourage deeper thrusts by pushing down against his ass. She couldn’t get enough of him, and he complied by increasing his pace and vigor.

Astrid’s head fell back against the pillow with euphoria. It felt like they had done it all before. After some initial correction, they moved together effortlessly, rocking to meet each other with mutual pleasure. They sighed together, like a sensual harmony.

She grasped at his hair—the easiest thing to hold onto—and his hand found their way between them. She arched up at the first skilled pulse of his fingers against her clit.

Everything was searing heat and perfect friction, burning away any remaining doubt that she had made a good decision. Hiccup’s skin felt as feverish as her own, gliding over her abdomen and encircling her as they clung together with more desperation.

Minutes flitted by without notice, and Astrid couldn’t care less if they carried on until daybreak. She wanted release, but she never wanted it to stop. It was sex as it was meant to be: more than just the empty mechanics of it. She had always enjoyed the act itself, but Hiccup was taking her to ecstatic new heights.

She was arching into him, and he was driving her down against the sheets; over and over, harder and deeper, while they clung to each other like vices. The room was full of rapturous moans and soft gasps.

Astrid squeezed him as his talented fingers struck up sparks to ignite already slick heat. The tension coiling below her navel finally snapped, throwing her into a blank state of wonderful, where every nerve tingled, and every hair stood on end. She was no more responsible for what spilled from her lips than she was for the automatic grinding of her hips against Hiccup’s unrelenting hardness.

Maybe she said his name, and if she did, she hoped Eret had overheard. Then again, he was quickly dissolving into a vague shadow of a person, and she couldn’t recall why she even cared what he thought.

Hiccup was the only man who mattered. Her toes were curling, and he was the reason. She was enveloped by his scent and his warmth, melting beneath him as he drove through her orgasm with every thrust.

How long had it been since she had a really good climax?

Hiccup wasn’t far behind her, grasping her hips as came. It was the first possessive gesture he had displayed all night, only when overcome by a carnality he couldn’t restrain. He moaned into the bend of her neck, seeming to climb her body with each wave of release, rubbing against her overstimulated sex, drawing unabashed whimpers from her throat as delightful aftershocks coursed through her.

Hot. Damn.

The world was still spinning, but there were no fireworks, and no triumphant horn blaring out their victory. There was only the two of them, naked and panting. Residual tingles and sweat were all they had to show for their efforts, but they shared exhausted, identical smiles. A few soft kisses punctuated everything, and their fingers entwined as Hiccup collapsed beside her.

Still nowhere close to love, they could at least exchange a meaningful gaze. They were, if nothing else, very sated.  It certainly wasn’t a fanfare, but Astrid would take it—a better afterglow than she had ever known.

The mood was only slightly dampened by the unceremonious disposal of the condom. Then, Astrid was curled up against Hiccup, absently connecting the freckles on his chest in invisible shapes with her fingers. He rubbed the small of her back, and maybe they were being too affectionate for a rebound tryst, but Astrid would worry about that in the morning.

“You know,” she murmured, shockingly loud in the wake of such comfortable silence, “I’m glad I took a chance on some pretentious coffee.”

Hiccup laughed and replied, “I’m glad that your not-hangover didn’t deter you from going out again.”

“So, what happens now?” she asked, propping herself up on an elbow.

She wasn’t expecting anything, but she at least needed to know where they stood. Would they share phone numbers? Would they settle for casual, intermittent hookups? Would they simply use a good experience as a springboard into the next relationship?

Hiccup took a long breath, blinking up at the ceiling. His lips pursed as he considered the options.

“Well, I know you don’t care much for coffee, but there’s a diner near here open twenty-four hours. They make good milkshakes, if you care to give it a shot.”

Astrid’s eyebrow shot up. “Are you…asking me on a date?”

He shrugged. “I know we’re doing things a bit backwards, but I did say I’m no stranger to unorthodoxy.”

“Milkshakes, though? In the winter?”

“I, uh…I mean, it was just an idea,” he backpedaled. “I’m not assuming that you—“

She smirked and bent over, interrupting him with a kiss and stifling that nervous habit.

“I’ll take milkshakes over terrible coffee any day.”

And so their first date was set.

#hiccstrid #hiccstrid fic #hiccstrid modern au #pretentious coffee au

[valpogossip]

VALPOGOSSIP TEACAP: APRIL 2024

You lot sure have be busy the last month. If I was of lesser mind or simply someone with something better to do, I would have resigned myself to my silence and let you all carry on. But business pays. And unfortunately for you, it's yours that pays me, and you're all not going to believe this.

It's always the ones in the most denial that scream the loudest and Abril is a banshee. While at La Fiesta De Vindimia, Abril confronted our favorite blonde bombshell, Mallory Jade, about song she assumed was about her. Now theres something about a fight over a song like Pretty Girls ending in a kiss that just doesn't feel all that... straight to me. But Abril was quick to prove all of us wrong by locking in with Giovanni !

Speaking of Giovanni, the timing of this is quite suspicious considering he had a bit of his own meet-not-so-cute with a Yazmin. The two getting off on the wrong food but helping each other find the right one another and getting all cozy enough to take a nap outside. I don't about you all, but I don't think i've ever been that comfortable. Wonder with Yazmin thinks of this. Or Abril for that matter.

We could also ask Aivryn for her opinion on the matter considering how upset she was when Abril's new beau launched to the world to see. Apparently, even as her best friend, Aivryn found out at the same time everyone else did. I can't help but wonder why that is.

In more confusing but entertaining news, Omar and Dante are going on a date to decide which one gets to take which...one... on a... date ? I think I'm reading that correctly. Yes, bowling date. Loser takes other on date. No, yeah that's right. Well, whatever love looks like for you. Whenever there's a Dominguez-Herrera involved we're sure it'll be healthy and sane.

Maybe it's the bowling date nerves that led Dante to break Drew's nose? We hope that's healing up just fine.

Every month we hope Alba will stand up, and this month they came really close ! It was much of a hunch, but hey we'll take it. After a cold war, Milani raised the first white flag but all it took was one. You'll get there Al, we believe in you !

The festival seemed to be a hub for rekindling kisses, as Arlo and Esme were spotted liplocked on one of the benches. Sad thing about Leia bearing eye witness. Has anyone checked on her? What is it about good wine that makes you want to relive the past? Maybe they can go on a double date with Mallory and Abril and relive the past together.

Speaking of rekindling, but this time no kisses, exes Elijah and Sariyah, and Luna and Enzo were both spotted with frowns on their faces and eyes that were looking everywhere but each other. What conversation has you guys that deep in thought? Maybe you should take a drive, we here that helps.

If you're looking for a palette cleanser from all the mess, look no further than Jasper and Hunter. Gentle conversations and cutely planned dates. We wish them nothing but the best and maybe they could teach our many ( many ) confused couples a thing or two.

We hope that's enough to hold you over until next month. And if I missed anything, don't hesitate to send in a little tip to us via our anon box.

Here's some things we're keeping a close eye on for next month:

Ysla and Adem seem to be getting extremely close to little Emmie. Is it all just for her benefit? Astrid and Kaito already have the perfect starter for next month's tea cap, I wonder what else they'll get up to. What's the history there? How is Sariyah involved? Why does vic hate birthdays so much and why does esme suddenly care so much about his? Ximena and Bryce seem to also be spending a lot more time together. Aksel and Sarah's dinner table keeps getting bigger and bigger whole Luna's looks to be getting smaller, why is that? Will Drew ever get his double date? Is Luna like... okay?

If you didn't make this rounds teacap don't worry, we're still watching closely.

#valpoteacap #i feel like i missed.... so much this month im sorry yall

[moonstruckmelancholic]

Rebis

Had this rolling around in my head for a couple of days and fancied getting it out. Excuse me while I go to horny jail.

FYI, haven't written anything smutty for ages so hopefully it's not terrible.

Ikemen Vampire: Faust x Reader 18 + #NSFW

choking, religious themes, bondage Faust gets a dose of his own medicine, and surprisingly it's to his taste...

The control was an illusion, the silken ropes binding his wrists to the bed would be easy enough to break with his vampiric strength so it was by choice that he was letting himself be restrained, but the temptation to rip them off and take back the reigns of this experiment was painfully strong, it would be a simple feat. However, he promised he would indulge his versuchskaninchen and despite his taste for control, seeing her astride him, baring her fangs at him and playing at predator was more stimulating than he had imagined.

His eyes slowly wandered up and down her form, taking in every curve, every detail - no matter how many times he saw her nude, skin flushed and glowing, hair cascading wildly over her form, lips darker and eyes blown in lust, it never got old. He is certain that he noticed something new every time, tonight’s discovery was the subtle but sadistic glint as she looked down upon him, perhaps a mirror of his own when he gazes down at her. Hungry and desperate to be sated.

He wasn’t one to care for deities but he fancied that perhaps tonight she was his personal goddess and he wanted to pray to her, worship her, revere her with every part of his being even if that meant being her toy. Although, her game of bringing him to the edge of sanity then refusing to let him fall off the cliff was beginning to become excruciating, especially now as he felt her rub her cunt along the tip of his sensitised cock. He couldn’t even enjoy the sight of it as hands were wrapped around his throat making his head stay on the pillow while her eyes bore into his, the force of her grip was surprising, her gaze more so. Hypnotic almost.

He felt high off the mix of restricted movement, oxygen and painful pleasure, reality long slipping away and only her eyes, her body anchoring him to any sense of the earthly. Slowly she rolled her hips, letting wet folds graze along his tip, dragging him closer to bliss but not allowing him to actually enter her divine body. He was content to be a sinner, but right now he would do anything for absolution and relief.

“You look good like this Johann, like you were made to be underneath me” she purred releasing the grip on his neck allowing the air to flow back into his lungs. Stilling her hips again and pulling her warmth away from his, the cold air a stark reminder of the sudden loss, another denial. It was somewhat amusing to have his own sadism thrown back at him, he couldn’t help but laugh “Perhaps I’ve been too much of a corrupting influence on you my love, you look positively fiendish right now” he said admiringly, wanting more than anything to touch her cheek and kiss everywhere his lips can reach, but the snug ropes prevented him.

Thankfully, his goddess rewarded him with a taste of her lips, opening to allow their tongues to dance together, mixing their taste into something whole, something perfect. The thirst burnt his throat, all he could think about was wanting to drink the blood from her delicate neck and the water pouring from between her legs; although there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying it still wouldn’t sate him. To think, the terrified prey he’d cornered all those months ago had this kind of voracious, lewd appetite. What a surprising development indeed.

Now it was her hands clawing over his skin and her mouth leaving vibrant red bite marks all over him. Charles would comment on the state of his neck at breakfast, he could just hear it now because even without seeing it he could feel the mess she’d made of him, it was throbbing in places where her teeth had been. He was impressed. The bites would look deeply inappropriate with his clerical collar too, as much as he found the thought of taking confessions in this state amusing, he also had no real desire to explain the mechanics of life to the children who would of course come into play, notice and ask about it. Or he could just say he was attacked by a vampire, the irony of the lie would be delightful.

“What has you so distracted?” Her voice cutting through Faust’s unintentional reverie. Straining his neck he took in the view of her lips hovering over his abdomen “if you’re finding my attention lacking, I can always leave you to entertain yourself” she smirked lifting her lips from him and settling herself beside him, ghosting her fingers across his abs. “Forgive me mistress for I have sinned” Faust pleaded, his voice laced with desperation as his body ached for her. His body arched of its own accord looking for more touch, more heat, anything to quench the thirst ripping his sanity to shreds.

She lifted herself over him, straddling his middle so he could feel her cunt, hot, wet and wanting leaving her fluid over his torso. It was like being marked. Bringing her face to him, eyes never leaving his, she lent down for what he thought was a kiss only to be rewarded with a sharp pain through his bottom lip.

She bit him, she actually bit his lip. Not enough to make him bleed but how the tables had turned, his shock giving way to amusement. Yes, they really were made for each other.

She moved, settling her thighs either side of his head. Her cunt hovering over his face filling his nose with sweetness and musk “Show penitence lamb and perhaps you’ll be forgiven” came her voice as she lowered herself onto him. He dove into his penitent act diligently, using his nose to rub against her clit while burying his tongue deep into her as fast as he could. He was desperate to cast aside his bindings and use his fingers to open her up for him, lavish attention on every little piece of her but for now he’d have to be content with burying his face as deep as he could, diving as far as possible. Her waters poured over his face as she rode his mouth, dripping down his neck; he could feel every twitch and shiver, how her body urged his contact further. Her walls fluttering around his tongue, sight, smell, touch, vision, everything was filled with her and deeper he was being drawn in. This prayer was the most truthful one he’d ever managed. Her voice filled the air, the moans of his name paired with the creaking bed made for the most beautiful music could think of, choirs of angels be damned. This was heaven, right here between her legs, this was his salvation.

There, he could feel it. The juddering beginning to take her hips, the tone of her voice pitching higher, she was reaching her peak and he was determined to push her over. Then, before he even quite realised it she lifted away from him, her warmth replaced but cool and feeling rather bereft of her touch. He’d speculated on it over the night, but now it confirmed that it wasn’t just his orgasm being denied, but she was saving hers too.

“You did well lamb, you have earned not only forgiveness, but a reward” she whispered in his ear after taking her place back astride him. She brought her index finger to her mouth, gently sucking upon it in a way that made his cock throb. Removing in only to run it down her body and slide it between her legs, into her. Giving herself a fleeting touch, but enough to bring it out slick with her. She took the digit and used it to anoint his forehead. He thought fucking her over the alter had been sacrilege.

“Open your mouth Johann” she commanded and he did as he was compelled. She took the finger back between her legs, bringing it back slicker and gently dipped it into his mouth, running it along his teeth till she found he fangs. It only took light pressure on the pad of her finger but her blood began to flow for him. She moaned as the pleasure of the bite washed over her already aroused body and he got drunk off the little taste she gave him. Her blood, mixed with her arousal, fuck, it was almost too much to take but as he lost himself in drinking she sunk onto his cock. The sudden burst of pressure and pleasure made them both moan in unison, he bucked his hips instinctively forcing her off balance.

Her finger vanished from his mouth but before he could complain she adjusted and drew him deeper. He hissed at the sensation, and threw back his head as she began to set and unexpectedly harsh pace. Nails dug into his chest and the sound of slapping flesh filled the room, he could feel her arousal pouring onto his balls. Faster, harder, her heart was thundering over him, her body slamming into his. Hot, so very hot was her body gripping onto his, her walls squeezing his cock every time she took him deeper. He couldn’t stand to lose the feeling so he bucked, chasing her warmth, chasing that closeness. She sung his name, moaning louder and louder, echoing through the room and probably to Vald and Charles’ ears thanks to their sensitive hearing. The idea of their exhibition winding him up further; he wanted to make it clear, she was his, it was his name she moaned in the highs of pleasure. She called for him, not for God, him.

“Break them Johann, cast aside your constraints” she pleaded, tears of pleasure slipping from her eyes. He didn’t need much encouragement, the silken ropes breaking with little effort. His freed hands going straight to her hips, taking control of the pace. He felt it, her walls beginning to convulse. She was going to hit her high soon and he wanted to push her into it quickly, he wanted to make her feel so much pleasure it begun to be painful. That would be his revenge.

As her cunt trembled more, he took his thumb and pressed it into the oversensitive bundle of nerves at her apex, the force on the border between pleasure and pain, sending her into bliss. She collapsed onto him, liquid pouring from her, breath shaky and he took the opportunity to switch their positions. He wasn’t far off himself, an evening of denial causing him to fuck her roughly, sinking his fangs into her neck. Pleasure hit her again, she wrapped her legs around as waist as tightly as she could and held on for dear life as he let himself go feral.

Everything was her, her body pressed into him, her blood filling his mouth making him drunk on the taste, her warmth melting him. He was filling her, as she was filling him. Everything else was gone, she was all that was left, she was his completion.

His climax hit him hard and felt like it went on forever, she fell back over the edge too. Two bodies, became one beast with two backs, breath flowed from one set of lungs to another. Their eyes locked together, and there was peace.

In the stillness that followed, the warm candle light fell across their forms, morphing and altering them, making it impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. An erotic rebis created; the harmonious union of opposites, the sun and moon, quicksilver and sulphur as one.

One body falling into sleep.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp faust #ikevamp #ikevamp smut #ikemen series #ikevamp fanfic

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Trying To Get To You

Fandom: American Musician, Actor, RPF, Elvis 2022, Elvis Movie

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader

Word Count: 2477 // Rating: Explicit

Summary:  Well if I had to do it over, That's exactly what I'd do,

Tags/ Warnings: My Writing, Halloween Challenge, Writing Challenge, Songfics, Elvis, Elvis Movie, Lyrics, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Teasing, Kissing, Hugging, Edging, Established Relationships, Comeback Special, Cumback special, Semi Public Sex, Semi Public Nudity, Slight Dom Elvis, Cumming In Pants, Love, Premature Ejaculation, Orgasm Denial Trying To Get To You // Elvis Presley

Notes:  This is part of my writing Challenge for Halloween 2022. All fics are based off of songs I love. The aim is to write one fic a day for 15 days straight. I’m doing a similar thing for Christmas but they will all be headcanons [requests welcome for that] Enjoy x  

Updated 8/23

15 DAYS OF SONGFICS FOR HALLOWEEN (OCT 15TH - OCT 31ST)

‘How are you feeling?’ I asked, watching as Elvis tried to shake out his nervousness. We were sitting in his dressing room and he was pacing back and forth a visible bag of nerves. Tonight was going to be the first live performance he had done in nearly ten years and I could tell the stress of it was eating at him. 

‘Nervous y’know,’ he said looking at me. I smiled at him trying my best to ease his anxiety a little. I moved off the seat I was perched on and walked over to him wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head against his chest. The leather jumpsuit was cold against my cheek but I felt content as he wrapped his arms around me and stroked my hair.

‘You’ll be fine,’ I mumbled, pulling back to look up at him.  ‘It’s been a long time baby,’ he said quietly. ‘And you’re still the performer you always were, if not better. Those people out there are here for you because they love you. Even if you’re terrible they’re not gonna care,’ I chuckled.  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ he chuckled, leaning down to kiss me. It was gentle and longing and enough to make a damp heat settle in below my waist.  ‘You know,’ he mumbled into my lips as his hands caressed my waist, eventually settling on my ass, ‘there’s one way to alleviate my nerves.’ ‘Oh yeah?’ I giggled, pulling back and looking at him once more. His lips were plump from kissing me and his eyes were lustful.  ‘Yeah,’ he said, pushing me back until we were by the couch. He spun around and dropped down onto it, pulling me to follow him. I sat astride him and grabbed his face, kissing him roughly. He moaned into my mouth as his hands grabbed fistfuls of my ass. I could feel his length stiffening beneath me as I rocked my hips a little. 

‘On your knees,’ he whispered in a guttural voice that sent shivers to my core. I nodded and clambered off him dropping to my knees in between his legs as I eagerly pulled at his flies undoing them as quickly as I could. He wasn’t wearing any underneath and so he sprang out against his abdomen but I was quickly on him, grabbing his cock in my hand. He groaned as I pumped him gently in my hand allowing the precum that was oozing out of him to slicken my grip. I leant forward and took his tip in my mouth swirling my tongue around it which made him groan. I smirked looking up at him under my lashes and watching as he threw his head back against the couch, his breath coming in heavy pants. 

I inched him down until I could feel him touching the back of my throat and then pulled back bobbing a little and hollowing my cheeks to make him writhe underneath me. I kept my actions up for a moment until he grabbed me roughly by the hair and pulled me back so he was resting on my tongue as I held him gently.

‘So fucking eager for me,’ he cooed as his thumb stroked my cheek gently.  ‘Love you,’ I hummed against him. ‘Show me how much,’ he said and then he was forcing my head down until I was gagging against him. I gripped his leather-clad thighs in an attempt to slow him down but he pulled my hair and grunted, ‘do as you’re told. Take it all. ’ 

I stopped resisting and tried to relax my throat as much as possible as he controlled the pace. He was bucking up against my face his breathing heavy and moans rolling off his tongue. Music to my ears. I glanced at him to find him looking at me, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loud. He was close, I could tell from the look on his face but right before he could get there he pulled me back. A string of saliva connected my mouth to him and I wiped it with the back of my hand as I swallowed, my mouth aching from the being stretched around him. 

‘What?’ I said breathlessly. He smirked and stroked my cheek tenderly. ‘That’s enough,’ he said.  ‘But,’ I protested but he put his finger on my lips, pulling at my lower one.  ‘You got rid of the nerves,’ he said, ‘and now I’ve got a reason to do a good show.’  ‘Audience enjoyment not on that list?’ I smirked.  ‘It is but the idea of you waiting for me at the end is a good incentive,’ he said. 

There was a knock at the door. Elvis started tucking himself into his leather pants as I jumped up and walked to the door opening it a crack. There was a man with a clipboard and headset standing outside and he looked puzzled at me.

‘Um, five minutes until we start,’ he said.  ‘Right,’ I said, he tried to look over my shoulder to see Elvis but I pulled the door closed.  ‘Is Mr Presley ready?’ he said.  ‘He will be,’ I said with a tight smile before I closed the door in his face.  ‘That was a little harsh,’ Elvis said as he came up behind me wrapping his arms around my waist. I leaned back into him and I could feel his still hard length against my ass.  ‘Didn’t want to scar the poor guy,’ I chuckled, leaning so he could kiss my neck. I wanted nothing more than for us to tell them we weren’t coming out of this room. For him to finish what he was starting.  ‘Hey watching us is a privilege,’ he murmured into my neck.  ‘Getting to enjoy it ourselves is seeming that way,’ I groaned.  ‘Don’t be needy,’ he said, ‘it’ll be worth the wait.’ 

His lips returned to my neck but they weren’t there for long before there was a knock on the door again and I sighed pulling out of his grasp. When I opened the door there was another man there with the same clipboard and headset attire.

‘What now?’ I grumbled my underwear now uncomfortably damp. ‘You need to take your seat, Miss,’ he said nervously. I sighed and nodded looking back at Elvis who was watching us smirking.  ‘Go on honey,’ he said sultrily, ‘be a good girl. Do as you’re told.’ 

I narrowed my eyes at him as he smirked at me. I smiled exaggeratedly and then followed the man down the corridor. Yet just before we got to the sound stage I asked the man to let me pop to the bathroom. He tutted under his breath but gestured where I should go. I was in and out within a minute.  ‘Ready?’ the man said exasperatedly. ‘Definitely,’ I smirked to myself. I was now.

✵✵✵

I sat in awe. Elvis was back and he was better than ever. He had come out to rapturous applause and it hadn’t let up much since. He played the classics, looking heavenly in the jumpsuit, as the energy of the crowd egged him on. As I watched I could see his nerves were gone but I could tell from the way he kept adjusting his pants he was still ridiculously hard. I smirked to myself. He was driving himself crazy and I hadn’t even done anything yet. 

As the boys settled into the next session I watched him. He had been glancing at me in the crowd throughout the last set but now I was determined to be in view. He took the seat that had been set up for him and I moved so I was in his eye line, only his. It meant moving a couple of the Memphis boys around but I didn’t care. Before they went into their first song his eyes sought me out in the crowd and we shared a smile. 

He played hit after hit once again and the old band recapped the good times they had had touring the US together. The audience was captivated. Everyone was. Not one person wasn't watching him. But as he slipped into his next song his eyes locked with mine more often. 

I've been travelling over mountains Even through the valleys too, I've been travelling night and day, I've been running all the way, Baby, trying to get to you.

It was my favourite song. A hit from his very early days that seemed altogether more impressive with the deepened soulful voice he now had than his higher, more innocent one he had originally recorded it with. And the intensity that he was watching me with was causing a stir in my core. I sat with my legs crossed but I leaned back against my chair, watching as his gaze tracked my movements, and then I moved my leg off the other revealing myself to him. He’d teased me. Amped me up to tease himself. So I was punishing him. Before I’d come to the sound stage I had excused myself to the bathroom and taken off my underwear. Now my pussy was exposed to him, only him, in a room full of people. 

And then it wasn't. I changed my position crossing my legs again so he was banned from view. He continued to sing but his style became more frantic and haphazard. 

When I read your loving letter, Then my heart began to sing, There were many miles between us, But they didn't mean a thing.

I listened as his voice broke, a strangled guttural note echoing out as he rubbed the guitar against his thighs, jumping up a little in surprise. I leant forward in my chair. To the audience, it hadn’t appeared any different than his other performances. He was just into the music. His body moved as it always did as the lord flowed through him. But I knew differently. 

I sat back in my chair, satisfied with my performance as well as his, as he continued. There were a few more songs, a few more memories shared, and a couple of pauses as the crew repositioned or talked something over with him before they carried on filming. Then it was over. The floor manager explained that we were to remain seated and that Elvis would return for another session but there was a scheduled break. The words had no sooner left his lips before someone was beside me telling me I needed to go backstage. So I followed them quickly ready for whatever was waiting for me. 

He led me to the dressing room and allowed me to enter which I did quickly shutting the door behind me. As I turned around Elvis was on me, boxing me in against the door. 

‘What are you playing at?’ he said his eyes darkened. ‘What?’ I smiled, riling him up further. ‘Teasing me,’ he said, ‘you think you’re funny?’ ‘Did I make you laugh?’ I asked, ‘or something else?’

My hands gripped his jacket as he breathed heavily on my face. I bit my lip as he grabbed my hand and placed it on his crotch. He was still hard, clearly not slowed down by his little performance. 

‘You know what you did,’ he said, fumbling so he was out of his pants once more. I looked down and found a small caked-on stain on the inside of his pants. I smirked. ‘Should’ve given me what I want,’ I said simply.  ‘And what’s that?’ he said.  ‘You,’ I said, ‘all of you.’  ‘Well, you can have me,’ he said grabbing me by the face and kissing me roughly. He dragged me to the dressing table and spun me around pushing me down so I was bent over it. He pulled my arms behind me and kept them in place holding them together with just one of his large hands. His other pushed my skirt up so my ass was exposed to him. I could see him in the mirror, his cock was swollen and leaking precum as he focused on me. His fingers teased my slit for a moment and then he pushed them inside me roughly. I was wet but it still stretched me making me whelp. He chuckled.

‘Not so cocky now,’ he said as he pumped them inside me forcefully.  ‘E,’ I grunted my hands gripping his tightly. ‘What honey?’ he asked. ‘Need you,’ I whimpered.  ‘You’ve got me, baby,’ he said pulling his fingers out. I whimpered at the loss of him but he wasted no time in filling me up now with his cock. He felt so good inside me, filling me up all the way. He grunted as he moved his hips quickly, slamming in and out of me. 

His breath was frantic now and my arms were aching as he held them against me, not allowing me to touch myself, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even care as his hand smacked my ass, hard. He did it again. And again. I could feel the welt forming. 

‘This what you want?’ he grunted as he slammed into me. ‘Yes,’ I whimpered.  ‘Good,’ he said, ‘cause this is all you’re getting. Teach you not to tease me again.’ ‘Never,’ I whimpered as another smack landed. ‘Promise?’ ‘I promise,’ I said and then he came. His hips stuttered against me as he spurted hot ropes of cum inside me. He slowed down and pulled out of me, falling against me for a moment as his hand let go of mine. I went to stand up properly but he pushed me down, his fingers at my hole again. 

‘Elvis,’ I shivered.  ‘Now you’ve got what you want you’re gonna keep it,’ he said, pushing the cum that was leaking out of me back inside.  ‘What?’ I breathed looking at him in the mirror. ‘You talked a big game,’ he said, pulling me up so my back was against his chest, his fingers still inside me, ‘forced me to sit through an entire set with myself all in a mess just because I wouldn’t give you what you wanted. So, you’re gonna sit with this inside you. Me inside you. For the rest of the show.’ ‘I don’t have my underwear,’ I mumbled remembering the pair of panties I had stuffed in the trash can  in the bathroom.  ‘Better sit with those pretty legs crossed then,’ he whispered, kissing my cheek, ‘and if you’re a good girl. If you do what you’re told then after I’ll make you feel as good as you made me feel, understand?’

I nodded. He slipped his fingers out of me and wiped them on the inside of my skirt as I clenched my legs together, hoping the next part of filming didn’t take too long. 

#My writing #elvis presley #Elvis #elvis x reader #Elvis Movie #elvis fic #Elvis Presley Fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis 68 comeback special #68 comeback special #trying to get to you #halloween #halloween challenge #halloween writing challenge

[finniestoncrane]

Asdfgkllp I just realized I fricked up the first time

Arkham 🎃 with 🪑 and 🟠🟦 with fem!reader please oh great Finnie 🥺💚

Taste

arkham!scarecrow x female!reader/sitting in their lap baby you're all good! also please my ego will be so inflated jkhjkhasd 💚 minors DNI!! 🔞 500 words, cw: shy/subby jon, orgasm denial, finger stuff send me a request • kofi link • minors DNI • tag: finnie500

In bra and panties, you sat astride Jonathan’s lap, his body completely unclothed, pinned to the seat beneath you, but putting up no fight, no temptation to get out from under your hold. His pale, scarred skin was cool under you, soft to the touch, and sensitive enough that you drew shaking breaths from him just by trailing your fingers along him, a light, ghosting touch.

You let yourself shift back and forth, grinding against him, his cock, hard, twitching, precum seeping from the tip, his head slick with his own arousal and yours, which rubbed onto him from the fabric of your underwear as you let your lips, still clothed and covered, rub against his twitching length.

He was completely under your control, and you felt immensely powerful, driven to a state of wild, intense desire and desperation as you teased him, giving him everything, and yet nothing.

Jonathan opened his mouth, his jaw hanging loose, tongue lapping at his ragged lips, trying to wet them, trying to entice you to them. You let a soft kiss fall to them before sitting back up.

“Tell me what you want, Jonathan.”

He whimpered before he spoke, taking you in, his hands hovering over your thighs before he let his palms rest on them, sharp fingers dragging along, digging into your skin.

“I want you to touch me.”

“Where?”

“Please.”

“Come on, Crane, use your words.”

“Anywhere, touch me anywhere. I don’t care, please.”

With his cock pressed between your mound and his abdomen, you caressed his cheek, thumb soft as it stroked back and forth before following his jaw line down, pulling at his chin, our fingers lingering on his breast bone before taking his nipples between them, rolling them under your knuckles, his sharp whines tingling your body.

You let go, jutting your hips forward, offering him a tiny bit of sweet friction before you leaned back, his hands holding you steady, firm on your lower back.

“What else do you want, Jonny?”

“Taste.”

“Hm?”

You smile at him, almost smirking at his verbal capacity, his intelligence drained, cock hard, brain devoid of any thoughts aside from the ones that involved you.

He strained his neck towards you, mouth hanging loose.

“I want to know how you taste.”

A soft laugh, one that had him throwing his had back with a groan. You slipped two fingers into the band of your underwear, pushing them between your swollen, soaking lips, pressing into you, walls tightening around your own digits, as you collected your slick, fingers wet when you pulled them back out.

Jonathan was looking back at you now, leaning into you, towards you, unable to reach you from where he was held.

You brought your fingers to his mouth, his tongue out and flat, ready to receive. As you pressed them to it, he groaned, the vibration felt on your fingertips, his gratitude obvious as he enclosed his mouth around you, lips sliding up and down as he sucked your fingers clean, savouring the taste.

“Anything else, Jonathan?”

#finnie500 #finnie writes #scarecrow #jonathan crane #arkham!scarecrow #scarecrow x reader

[jerzwriter]

Crimes - How I'd like to see it play out... sort of...

This is the only way I can see this freaking story making any sense anymore.

While trying to pass the Heirs Act (don't remember the official name, don't care anymore), Vasili and Bas found out that one of Viktoria's children was illegitimate. They tell Juli, who is recently engaged to Trystan. Bas is still heartbroken over losing her, and, for shits and giggles, Vasili has been secretly in love with Juli this whole time.

They believe the illegitimate heir is Trystan. But Juli wants more proof; she's partially in denial, and partially being protective of Trystan. She becomes less enthusiastic about supporting the Act until she has more answers, and Seb is spiraling. Not only has he lost his love, he's now losing her support on the one thing that matters to him. Vasili knows they need Juli to pull this off, so he's fuming, especially when he realizes that Juli is truly in love with Trystan, his secret arch-nemesis. Tryatan asking Vasili to constantly "cover" for them and Juli so they can sneak off together only adds insult to injury. Not only is he losing her support, not only did she love his younger brother (who he actually cared about), but now she's in love with Trystan. It's all too much for him.

He goes to confront Juli on the ship. Now, I do want to revisit the scene where the hooded character is talking before going to the ship, but I think it was Vasili, and when he confronted Juli, it ended up with her dead. It may have been accidental - a true crime of passion after Juli cruelly informed Vasili she could never love someone like him, nor could she support an act that would put him into power.

Or, perhaps it's deliberate. A calculated move based on the belief that her death would lead to renewed support of the Act from the public. When that didn't work, Bas became the main proponent of the Act, though I think Vasili and Eveline were the puppet masters.

Nadja's a wildcard. I almost feel like her murder wasn't planned. I think the killer could have been waiting for Trystan, and when Nadja showed up, they had no choice but to kill her. That would lead our currently inept detectives to believe the murderer wanted the act squashed, but that's not true. Although their plan was to murder Trystan, that cannot be done now, as it would be too risky. They decided to lay low and use more traditional ways to get the Act passed.

I think Bas had secured the votes. The representative he spoke to was swayed, and victory was near. It was to be a celebratory night when Bas ran into Vasili. He gives his brother the news, but somehow, it's revealed that his brother (and/or mother) were behind Juli and Nadja's murders. He confronts his brother, furious, and tells him the Act has the votes, it will pass, but he will never be king because Bas is turning his ass in. Knowing the crown is now within reach, Vasili murders him.

In the end, I think Trystan will be the illegitimate child. If you're playing with a male Trystan, that seems impossible at the moment, but I think the information about the child being a female is inaccurate and meant to throw Trystan/MC (and us) off the trail. It could also be to prevent Trystan, the popular crown prince, from trying to stop the passage of the Act.

Once the Act is (likely) passed, the news of Trystan's illegitimacy will be revealed, with Vasili next in line. Maksim will step down, and Vasili is slated to be coronated. But finally, MC remembers s/he's a detective and figures it all out with Trystan's help. They are detained (I'm thinking by Lydea - because I think she's in on this). Their life is hanging in the balance as the coronation begins. Of course, they'll get out in the nick of time and save the day.

Who would be the next in line?

If this played out, Trystan would be out because they'd be the queen's illegitimate child. Vasili and Lydea are in jail... who is next in line? Is it Astrid? The idea of Queen Astrid is kind of giving me life at the moment.

After Vasili and Lydea are locked up, Maksim tells Trystan he'll always be his son, and then Trystan and MC hightail it out of that godforsaken country and go back to NY. They regain their ability to be competent detectives and live happily ever after.

OK, this is my submission for how it should all work out. I doubt Pixelberry will give us 1/10th of this.

@choicesbookclub

#crimes of passion #crimes of passion 2 #trystan thorne #vasili thorne #lydea thorne #astrid thorne #sebastyan thorne #playchoices #elsa rambles #my 2 cents #i'm sure pixelberry will not do this and do something REALLY lame

[samspenandsword]

Kinktober 2022/23 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: Kinktober Day 6 — Cockwarming with Captain Gregor Pairing: Captain Gregor/Reader; fem!reader with no mentions of her appearance. Rating: Explicit, 18+ (Younglings, foundlings, and cadets BEGONE!) Warnings: Explicit sexual content, smut; Cockwarming, unprotected PIV (PRACTICE SAFE SEX), creampie, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, Gregor’s thighs are a warning all their own, Reader and Gregor have a safeword.  Word Count: 1.2k

Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2023 Taglist Form

The hand on your back was steady and anchoring, the soft stroke of it across your skin doing wonders for keeping you present, but practically wrapping up your sanity in a nice little bow and promptly sending it down the garbage chute.

Or maybe that was just the way his thick cock rested against your g-spot, unmoving and firm and constant.

"Doing so good, baby," he cooed somewhere near your ear. It sounded far away and delayed, your pleasure hazing everything that wasn't related to his touch or cock.

But you managed to choke out a response.

"Can't hold it much longer, Gregor."

He looked at you, proceeding to giggle at the fucked out, strained expression you wore. And the proud fact that he had been the one to put that expression there.

Your skin was slicked with sweat, both from pleasure and the excruciating need inside you. When you'd agreed to cockwarm him for as long as you could, you had somehow forgotten just how glorious Gregor felt inside you. Your pussy fit him like a glove, snug and warm and smooth. And you swore, every time, that it was like you two were made to fit each other.

It was not helping you right now, instead making you desperate for friction and movement and release that he wasn't going to give you yet.

"Ah, come on," he said, not unkindly. "I know you can go a little bit longer. My strong girl. I know you can keep me warm longer."

The hand not stroking your back smoothed over your head briefly, his lips dropping an eager little kiss to your crown. He was always eager when it came to you.

And you felt amazing around him. So soft and warm and tight. Comforting. Grounding.

"Want to move," you said, a breathy moan coating the words. You fell forward, forehead pressing to his shoulder.

His hand simply continued to stroke your back. But his other fell to your tummy, rubbing it in slow circles.

"But you feel so good," he said.

"So do you. Which is why I want to move."

Gregor laughed, that unique, sometimes involuntary giggle of his bubbling up through his chest. It always brought a smile to your face. It still did, even through your desperate, edged haze.

"Just a little longer," he promised. "Just a little longer, then you can move. You can ride me. Just how you like it."

You trembled and clenched with the promise, trying your hardest not to jolt and thrust already at his words. Gregor felt the way you twitched, chuckling and kissing your cheek.

You forced your mind to wander. To anything else. To anything other than the burning awareness of how good Gregor felt. To anything that would let the desperation inside you fade into the background, blurred and faded as your thoughts guided you elsewhere. But the heady smell of him clung to you, invading your senses and clinging to your insides, and could not be erased. The warmth of his skin against yours could not be ignored. The lean of his chin against your head was impossible not to crane into.

Breathe, you told yourself.

You did, inhaling and exhaling in a shaky, but steady rhythm. And slowly, but surely, you felt your body begin to relax, the tightness in you unwinding.

Until Gregor dropped his hand to your clit and slowly stroked his fingers across it.

Your hips twitched and your thighs tensed from where they were astride his own. Gregor laughed a little again, sounding cheerful and humorous.

"Gregor..." you whined, pushing your face into his chest.

"Relax," he soothed. His thick thighs flexed, shifting you higher and closer to him. Letting you lean flush against him, and letting him slide even deeper inside you, sheathed to the hilt in your silken, buttery walls. "Let me..."

He began to rub your clit again, painfully slow.

But after sitting across him, impaled on him, for as long as you had been, minutes, hours, days, you no longer knew, the touch was enough to send you sprawling and spiraling.

And he knew it.

So as soon as he brought you to the precipice, after only a couple minutes of gentle rubbing, Gregor stopped.

You whined pathetically into him, your shoulders hunching and curling closer to him like he was the edge you were desperate to throw yourself over.

But he wasn't, and for the first time since you'd started warming him, your body relaxed when you didn't want it to, falling back into a needy, precarious dangle fraught with tension.

"Want to cum, Gregor," you said, voice gravelling. "Need to cum!"

He was still stroking up and down your back soothingly. He had never stopped. And he looked at you with a little, amused smirk and raise of his eyebrow.

"You do?"

You were too delirious to see the deviousness in his expression. And if you'd caught it, you would've realized that you weren't going to be cumming quite yet.

And true enough, Gregor brought his hand back to your clit, massaging it again in that agonizing, slow circle, then backing off just before you could fall over the edge into release.

Three times he did this, and all the while you trembled and twitched with desperation. Every part of your body felt numb with need and electrified with pleasure. Dazed and sensitive. Frayed and wound tight. Like a rubber band stretched to its limit, just about to snap.

Gregor whispered in your ear, reminding you of the safeword. That you could end this in a heartbeat if you wanted to. But you didn't want to. What you wanted was to cum. And cum hard.

He gave that little laugh and smirk and quirk of his eyebrows again at your response. You'd never think to guess that he was as close as you were from the composure he frustratingly carried.

But he was, and he could feel his cock leaking with precum inside you, swollen and painfully hard, ready to explode as soon as he let himself.

He could feel the way you were trembling against him, choking and shaking with overstimulated pleasure and agonizing denial. His eyes darted to the chrono on the wall, just for a second. He'd tortured you long enough. Time to give you what you so clearly craved.

A good, hard cum.

Gregor's fingers found your clit, so swollen it almost hurt when he touched it again. But he pressed hard on it, rubbing it faster and faster and faster. Your fucked out mind could barely comprehend what was happening until you suddenly tipped over the edge you'd been dangled precariously over for Maker knows how long.

And it was a wondrous fall.

Shaking and nearly squirting with relief, your pussy clenched and squeezed and fluttered around Gregor's cock, sucking it in and forcing it to give you its spend. Gregor groaned deep in his throat as you clamped down around him, the fluttering of your walls a vibrating milker. He came inside you, cock pulsing and his thighs shoving you up as far as you could go, shoving his cock as far inside as he could get.

Your muscles were jelly as your climax finally ended and you heaved deeply for breath. Gregor's chest rocked you as he did the same, rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You felt your combined spend drip down your walls to coat his softening cock. It began to leak out of you and smeared across his thick thighs.

You leaned into his chest, smiling as his hand never once stopped stroking your back.

He giggled lightly into your head, lips smiling. You couldn't help returning it before dipping up to catch his lips with yours.

Taglist: @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @frietiemeloen @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @jedimastersovi @hnnybee @sleepingsun501 @virginoliveoil @rosmariner @sunshinesdaydream @adikas-world @theroguesully @dangerousstrawberrypie @kraytclaw @lindsaygallof @misogirl828 @thefact0rygirl @mxkyrie

Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2022 Taglist Form

To folks who wish to be tagged in my works, make sure to double check your visibility settings. I can’t tag you unless you have made your blog visible. 

#sam's pen and kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #star wars kinktober #star wars kinktober 2022 #star wars #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #sw tcw #tcw #the bad batch #tbb #sw tbb #captain gregor #clone trooper gregor #captain gregor x reader #captain gregor x you #captain gregor x y/n #gregor x reader #gregor x you #gregor x y/n #clone trooper gregor x reader #clone trooper gregor x you #clone trooper gregor x y/n #fem reader #fem!reader #f!reader #captain gregor and thick thighs supremacy!!!

[voltdamage]

Members of Guild Sunstone, of Tharsis

01: Ret Li

A woman of impressive strength and stature, which she uses to defend others. Has a tendency to take on an older sister role to those she takes a shine to.

Adventurer Classification: Fortress / Runemaster

Age: 30

Birthday: Uroboros 27 (16 Jun)

Height: 6'3" (190cm)

Notes: Best at holding their liquor, Most fearsome when angered

Superlative:

Typing:

Affinity:

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02: Elizabeth Lucian "Ella"

She has a gentle demeanor and is soft-spoken, in contrast to her muscular build and scarred face. Owns a breadth of secondhand knowledge and stories, but still seems fascinated with new experiences.

Adventurer Classification: Landsknecht / Imperial

Age: 26

Birthday: Taurus 16 (13 Mar)

Height: 6'0" (182cm)

Notes: Best chef, Loudest sneezes

Superlative:

Typing:

Affinity:

——————————————————————————————————————————

03: Lyla

An enigmatic girl who enjoys taking copious naps, and staring wistfully toward the sky on stormy days.

Adventurer Classification: Medic / Landsknecht

Age: Uncertain, estimated to be 24

Birthday: ?????????

Height: 5'0" (152cm)

Notes: Chattiest sleeptalker, Most soothing touch

Superlative:

Typing:

Affinity:

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04: Sophia Evergale

A prodigious young woman who has set out to study Yggdrasil’s curiosities with intent to make a name for herself as a scholar. She specializes in fire and lightning runes.

Adventurer Classification: Runemaster / Arcanist

Age: 27

Birthday: Demiurge 25 (29 Nov)

Height: 5'7" (170cm)

Notes: Neatest handwriting, Most obsessive organizer

Superlative:

Typing:

Affinity:

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05: Astrid Leclerc

A talented runemaster who has long held a fervent desire to escape the rime-riddled confines of her isolated hometown. She specializes in fire and ice runes.

Adventurer Classification: Runemaster / Imperial

Age: 24

Birthday: Dormouse 15 (12 Feb)

Height: 4'10" (147cm)

Notes: Most in denial about her height, Quickest morning prepper

Superlative:

Typing:

Affinity:

#etrian odyssey #tgatm

[sundered-souls]

FFXIV Roster

I roleplay my characters exclusively with my FC on Cerberus at the moment. Since we rp in a canon-divergent AU, expect the lore to be broken when I talk about them sometimes.

Short description of them all (with screenshots) under the cut!

Inge Sjasaris: aesthetics, meme tag

The Advocate: aesthetics, meme tag

Wolfe Ironfist: aesthetics, meme tag

A’idan Tia: aesthetics, meme tag

Astrid Fauconnoix: aesthetics, meme tag

Skaar Lhatyn: aesthetics, meme tag

Kazan Takeuchi: aesthetics, meme tag

Alakja Bloom: aesthetics, meme tag

Aïcha Bedi: aesthetics, meme tag

Name: Inge Sjasaris Origin: Golmore Jungle, village of Sjasaris Occupation: Adventurer, Warrior of Light (until Carteneau) IC job/class: White mage, archer, alchemist Lives in the Twelveswood, but she owns a house in the Lavender Beds

Romance: married to Yersinia (@inah-ffxiv​)

Kind, stubborn and reckless, she has yet to meet her limits. In the meantime, she takes dumb risks, tries to help as many people as she can and drinks tea. A lot of tea.

Name: Unknown, gets called “The Advocate” Origin: Ishgard Occupation: Duelist “for hire” who really just works for free to defend people against accusations of heresy, ??? IC job/class: Dark Knight, ???, ??? Lives in Coerthas (formerly), 13th shard (post Endwalker, which isn’t known but I’m specifying it in case anyone would want to RP with him)

Romance: ???

Mysterious dark knight who made a name for himself by defending people at the Tribunal in Ishgard and winning all his cases so far. Unnaturally strong and off-putting, despite a behaviour most would describe as amiable if they could get over their instinctive fear of him.

Name: Astrid Fauconnoix Origin: Sharlayan Occupation: Historian IC job/class: / Lives in Mor Dhona. Currently in my FC verse, she’s in Doma and soon to go back to Sharlayan

Romance: single

Blushing historian who’d like nothing more than to be left in peace with her tea, pastries and research. She disappeared when the Isle of Val was destroyed and reappeared in the middle of nowhere years later, unable to say how, why or what had happened. She’s since learned that she did not, in fact, survive the destruction of the island and is looking for a way to be truly alive once more.

Name: A’idan Tia Origin: Moraby Drydocks Occupation: Baby adventurer (FC verse) IC job/class: Arcanist, carpenter Lives in Limsa Lominsa (formerly), Thavnair (current)

Romance: Lian (@adrayellinaeth​)

Curious and enthusiastic catboy who decided to become an adventurer to explore the land for a few years, so he wouldn’t regret not seeing more of it before accomplishing his true dream: building his own submarine and exploring the depth of the ocean.

Chaos ensued.

Name: Wolfe Ironfist Origin: Ul’dah, though both his parents are from Gyr Abania Occupation: Sultansworn (formerly), PI & bounty hunter IC job/class: Paladin, botanist Lives in the Black Brush (formerly), in exile and homeless currently

Romance: Cathan (@inah-ffxiv​) or he would if they weren’t both idiots in denial

A stubborn man with a good heart and a resting bitch face, for whom the Law was almost sacred until he's had to face reality: that, sometimes, the Law is unjust and you can't change it. Still trying to figure out what to do with himself.

Name: Skaar Lhatyn Origin: Ala Mhigo Occupation: Mercenary (formerly), itinerant monk, FC co-leader IC job/class: Monk, fisher Lives in Limsa Lominsa

Romance: married to X’yan Tia (who’s not on Tumblr)

Clever man who looks and often acts like a brute. Much more lenient with Ala Mhigans than with any person from another nation, he helps refugees go back to Gyr Abania after years helping them settle in La Noscea.

Name: Kazan Takeuchi Origin: Sui-no-Sato Occupation: Bodyguard IC job/class: Samurai Lives on the road

Romance: single

A traumatized man that sees himself as a shield and a weapon, nothing more. Travels the world at Seimei’s side, a wandering priest from Sui-no-Sato with bad decision-making skills (if you ask his bodyguard), while trying to find out who he is as a person.

Name: Alakja Bloom Origin: the Skatay Range Occupation: Soldier (formerly) IC job/class: Lancer, reaper (post EW) Lives in the Skatay Range (formerly), Garlemald (formerly), ??? (currently missing)

Romance: married

Name: Aïcha Bedi Origin: Thavnair Occupation: Warrior of Light, adventurer IC job/class: Dancer, paladin, machinist (as in, she’s a good shot but not interested in going any further than that, or shooting anybody at all for that matter) Lives in inns, but she’s looking into buying something in Thavnair

Romance: Estinien (post Endwalker)

After years in the mob, she did a 360 and tried to redeem herself. Despite a rocky start as an adventurer, she’s now in a much better place and with the world saved and her troubles behind her, she now has to figure out what peace means for her.

Hint: she threw herself at the first Potential Big Trouble she could find.

#blog maintenance #character roster

[hcrexcellency]

Ship Questionnaire: Reuben & Joanna duh

How did they first meet?

Joanna thought she'd saw the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen at the masquerade ball, but under disguise, combined with the threat of the bombs, the thought was quickly dashed from her mind. Little did she know, soon after, she'd met Lord Reuben in the stables. She'd heard stories about him and his family, but that mattered little to her when she had her own intentions that were far apart from politics.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Joanna has no way of truly knowing, but she knows exactly when she realized there was something more between them. That kiss astride a horse under the tent at the races in the countryside, one that caught her entirely by surprise, but it made her heart flutter in a way it hadn't in a very long time.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

HAAAAA!!!!!! Yeah. big time. That denial ran longer than the river in Egypt.

Who initiated their feelings first?

I think Ruby did??? ( am I right??? ). Joanna implied her feelings, but didn't outright say it. Ruby was the first to actually make it super plain, and perhaps it was Joanna implication that made it safe to do so.

Who said “I love you” first?

Joanna. She snuck it in whilst she told him how she felt in hopes that it wouldn't make him too nervous to say it back.... but he still hasn't said it back.

Who gets jealous easily?

Joanna. She does NAWT like people claiming what's hers as theirs. Not that she ever thinks he could stray from her ( she doesn't really think anyone could ever compare to her sksksksk ) but she just enjoys being territorial.

Who is more protective?

It’s a really close tie, considering they protect each other in their own way. Joanna uses threats and anger to fight people who say an I’ll word against him. Reuben uses strategy and manipulation to divert people away. But Ruby wins this one for physical protection, when he holds her real tight just to protect her from her own anger, stays with her until she falls asleep while petting her hair, holds her hand to reassure her.

Who remembers the little things?

Joanna. She’s a scholar at heart, so little things he says and does sticks to her memory. She loves details.

Who talks about their feelings more?

Joanna. She’s found she can talk very freely about her emotions with him because he makes her feel safe, but when he talks about his feelings, she thinks it sounds a lot prettier.

Who uses the cheesier pickup lines?

Reuben. Only because Joanna doesn’t use pick up lines often, she just tells him straight out what she wants sksksksk

What does a first date look like for them?

Anywhere they can isolate themselves from the rest of the world. They like alone time where no one can hear them so they can speak freely.

What do they like to do together?

Besides the obvious, they enjoy quite a bit of time outdoors together, whether that be walking about the gardens, resting in the woods all alone, or hunting.

Which one gets angry the most, leaving the other to calm them down?

Joanna. She can get super angry and he’s the only one who can successfully calm her down.

Do they like PDA?

Since their betrothal, and they’re allowed to do little things without raising suspicion like stand next to each other, look at each other with those infamous heart eyes, and reach out to each other for little touches. She’s been enjoying the big things though; sitting on his lap, kissing him in public. It’s just the lovesick stare between them that makes people feel like they need to leave the room.

What are their big spoon / little spoon arrangements?

Jo is the little spoon simply because Ruby is so much larger than her, though he prefers being the little spoon. She can hardly accommodate that, but if she feels like he just needs affection, she’ll just lay right on top of him.

Does one like the cuddle more than the other?

Neither of them were too keen on it at first until the first time they fell asleep together. I think Ruby, bring as physically affectionate as he is, probably would probably enjoy it more than Jo, but again, it’s a really close tie because she just really loves when he touches her.

Who hogs the blankets?

Probably Ruby, but only because he’s bigger and Jo doesn’t really care if she has them either way.

Who’s more likely to initiate sex?

Ruby. Yes, Jo is very passionate, but where she is more subtle with it in the way she flirts, he is more likely to see her teasing and just goes for it. He doesn’t have to say much for her to give in, either.

Who’s the kinkiest?

Reuben, just from his experience compared to her lack thereof. Though she has felt gradually more comfortable to explore.

Who is the top and bottom in their sex life? Are they interchangeable?

While Reuben prefers to take on a more dominant role, Joanna also has her moments where she is a force to be reckoned with, so it is definitely interchangeable.

Who likes giving and who likes receiving oral?

It just depends on who is more needy at the time. I don’t think either of them shy away from giving.

Can they last more than one round?

YUP. When Joanna tells people she’s been “very busy” most days, that’s why.

Which one is a morning person?

Joanna. She rises with the sun. She likes when the Earth is so still and quiet in the morning.

Do either of them like to cook?

HAA. Never. They’re gonna keep their riches now, so neither of them will ever have to worry about that.

If they get married, who proposes first?

Well they are getting married, BUT in a Modern AU concept, she would never propose, mostly because he is short with his words, so she would never wanna feel like she pushed him into it and he just went along with it. She’d want him to do it himself just for the validation.

What kind of wedding do they have?

Why have I thought a lot about this. I fully believe they would do two ceremonies. They’d do one with just them and the people who matter, it would be more unique to them, probably somewhere in the woods, and she’d wear something entirely unconventional. Then the second one is the public one, one that keeps to Scottish traditions, she’d wear something much culturally significant, and then they can boast about it to everyone.

Does anyone object to their relationship?

Dorit, Graeme, probably her ex-fiancé.

Do they have any kids?

No, nor is that a thing on either of their minds. Don’t bring it up to them, though. It might spook them.

Do they have any pets?

Joanna has a dog back in Scotland she is certain to keep once they get home. Then her horse, of course.

#muse ; 𝐉𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫t #memes ; 𝐉𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭 #( joanna & reuben )

[styxnbones]

(gehenna-calling) 23 for cass, 4 for kellen, 2 for danny, 14 for minerva, 19 for corin, 17 for harper

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

Genuine affection, both ways. Cass grew up in a very neglectful environment and it kinda fucked up their whole perception of how caring for people works. She basically internalized that Absence = Love, and her relationship with Astrid only hammered that in even deeper. In her mind, if you really love someone, you stay as far away from them as you can. She sees getting close to people as only a manipulation tactic, both for her to use on others, and that others will try to use on her. Obviously, this mindset has been pretty horrible for her adult relationships.

4. When scared, does your OC fight, flee, freeze or fawn?

Kellen, unless they're the instigator of a situation or have something other than themself to defend, will pretty much always fawn. They don't like to think of themself as a 'people pleaser' per se, but like it or not that's the kind of response that their trauma spawned.

2. What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

Honestly, with the way he dresses and the attitude he has, most people probably wouldn't think Danny's a librarian, or even an academic at all. And like, sure he wasn't in one of The Humanties TM, but he's a good archivist, an experienced occultist, and he knows a lot about art history. Also, he looks like if an elf was really into kpop.

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

Cute. Harmless. Unsuspecting. All of those are top tier in Minerva's books. Makes it easier for them to get the jump on you.

19. How does your OC behave when enraged?

Corin has a very long rope, and he can put up with a lot of shit before snapping, but when he does its with an unfathomable fury. It's loud, it's messy, he's probably definitely crying, and someone is gonna end up dead. He's very much prone to taking things out physically, even if his problem isn't physical at all. Very scenery-chewing villainous-meltdown darth-vader-choking-out-random-underlings style.

17. What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

Harper's still pretty new, so I haven't really put them through much yet, but I think their sire's suicide is what fucked them up the worst. Not even the rampage their beast took them on afterwards, but specifically them waking up on the night of the Family Reunion to find her ashes just outside and then like sleepwalking through the night's proceedings in a dissociative haze- knowing that this very event had been the last straw for her, that she had decided she would rather not exist at all than go through with exactly the thing they were doing. They had genuinely really liked her, and at this point she was pretty much the sole pillar of their life, and they had ignored the signs out of denial and yeah. that night was like pure agony.

#cass oc #kellen oc #danny oc #minerva oc #corin oc #harper oc

[e-wills-afterhours]

Affairs Of the Heart, Chapter 11

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

------

"Well, I hope you're proud of yourself," Astrid's mother said curtly, stitching the finishing touches to her bridal gown.

Breakfast was cold, prepared early and left to sit before Astrid's mother had roused her. No eye contact had yet been made, and the temperature in the house seemed to drop with her mother's cold greeting. There was no "hello" or "good morning." It was not a pleasant start to the day, but Astrid found it better than the screaming match of the night before. Word of the holmgang had disseminated throughout the Great Hall by the end of the Selection feast, inevitably reaching her parents and future in-laws. Stefnir confronted Hiccup one more time, to make a scene and set the date and time of the match. Stares and whispers had followed both families as they left the festivities. Astrid's mother had a sharp, tight grip on her arm, like dragon's talons.

A brutal interrogation waited for her at the Hofferson table that evening, where Astrid sat with her hands clasped and eyes fixed on a notch in the wood grain.

"How long has this been going on?"

"What are you thinking?"

"We have a contract! Does that mean nothing to you?"

"Did you really think it would be that easy?"

"How long?"

Astrid had tried to answer, only to realize neither her parents, nor Stefnir's, were content to let her speak. So, she sat in silence, eyes downcast as she chewed the inside of her lip, thinking up all manner of biting retorts she would never voice aloud. There was still a thin line of tender flesh around her neck from where Stefnir had ripped the necklace from her throat in his anger. A few times she hazarded a glance in his direction, only to be met with his furious, unwavering stare. He said nothing, rooted to a spot by the hearth, watching her with a simmering ire.

Eventually, she was dismissed with a wave and a disappointed scowl, and she had climbed the stairs to her room with relief. She tore off her expensive and stifling clothes, discarding them on the floor without a thought.

In nothing but her undergarments, she had collapsed onto her bed and screamed into her pillow. She had punched the headboard a few times for good measure before flopping onto her back, glaring up at the ceiling. Sneaky came to her side, curling up beside her comfortingly. Stormfly, meanwhile, was Thor knew where. Eventually, Astrid's buzzing mind could not out-pace her exhaustion.

Then it was morning, and the mess was still there, waiting to be tackled anew.

"I never meant to upset anyone," Astrid told her mother, stirring her porridge absently. "But you knew I never wanted this marriage!"

The meticulous needle kept stitching its denial, weaving it into the beautiful dress that might never be worn, if Astrid and Hiccup had their way.

"It doesn't matter," her mother said firmly. "You have the Svensons all riled up now. They were asking if we had planned this--as if we'd do such a dishonorable thing! Our marriage contract with them is binding. It was arranged long ago, and whether or not you want it makes no difference."

"Our marriage contract?" Astrid fumed.

"You know what I meant," her mother scoffed.

"It makes a difference to me!" Astrid argued, dropping her spoon into her bowl with a clatter. Her breakfast, untouched.

"I swear, child!" her mother huffed, hands falling into her lap. "You weren't always this rebellious. When we were at war with the dragons, you understood what was expected of you, but now that you kids have tasted the peace and the freedom we never had, you suddenly think you know better."

"Peace and freedom. That's a bad thing?"

Perhaps it was, for the perfectly obedient daughter she had been groomed to be. Someone who did what was expected, never made a fuss; and was steady and predictable. In such times, she was responsible, by everyone else's definition of the word.

"Sometimes, I think all of you kids with your dragons feel like you can fly away from your responsibilities, but some day you'll need to marry, or learn a trade. There's not a future in careless dragon races and dragon academy business," her mother explained, needle coming to life again, guiding along gilded thread.

"It's more than that!" Astrid asserted.

Her mother's eyebrows raised in a haughty arch. "Aye. It's Hiccup, filling your head with the same irresponsible freedom his doting father allows him."

"I never thought I'd hear you speak ill of the chief," Astrid grumbled, leaning back in her seat.

That touched a nerve, and her mother puffed up. "I'm speaking the truth! This little infatuation you have is only a passing—!"

A ripple of indignation set Astrid's spine rigid. "It's not an infatuation!" she snapped.

"Oh, so you think you love him, do you?" Her mother's face split into a dismissive sneer as she tugged another stitch into place. "And in a few years' time, where do you think that young love will take you? Are you so sure that the love will still be there, that you're willing to throw away a good, secure future on a gamble?"

Astrid thought of Dragon's Island, the past few nights in the cove, and the two years of stolen glances—a summary of their relationship in fragments of memory; some better than others. She remembered fondly the way Hiccup moved over her, his skin warm and damp with a thin sheen of sweat. She would never forget the things he whispered in her ear, breathless and heartfelt in the aftermath of sex, clinging to her like only she could hold him together. There was something deeper than mere adolescent fancy: it was an ardent need for each other that sex temporarily satisfied. Hiccup's eyes were always so honest, candidly speaking of his love for her.

"Don't I at least deserve to find out if something good comes of my relationship with him?" Astrid asked, skin tingling with the memory of Hiccup's reverent touch.

"You deserve to be looked after. Stefnir can provide—"

"Hiccup is the next chief! So can he!" Astrid was on her feet, gesturing in the direction of the Haddock house. She was not even considering marriage to Hiccup at that point, but her mother's logic did not follow.

"This again!" her mother sighed. "He won't win the holmgang. You know that as well as I do, so all of this bickering will be moot. You'll still be marrying Stefnir, only now with all this animosity to start off your marriage. Is that what you want for yourself? I certainly don't want that for you. It's a fine mess you've made for yourself, Astrid. How could you be so selfish? All that boy ever did, was be excited to call you his wife. A good match, he makes—and you're trying to throw it all away for something you don't know will last."

"Selfish?" Astrid scoffed. "Don't pretend like this marriage isn't for more money, or that the Svensons aren't marrying their son to me so they have an 'in' with Stoick's council. I'm being expected to go along with this for everyone else's gain but my own."

"Because you're too determined to be miserable in it! Thousands of women have been in arranged marriages before you. Don't act like you're the first one. Don't act like being happy with Stefnir is impossible. You know the state of your marriage depends on your perspective."

"I tried to be happy because it's what everyone wanted from me—what you all expected, and I tried to do the right thing. I played along for two years, but I can't anymore. I'm so tired. Mom, it's smothering me." He voice was weary, defeated. More vulnerable than she ever intended to be around her mother.

"Have you considered the only thing it's smothering is your childishness?"

Stomach empty and heart full of anguish, Astrid strode toward the front door, wrenching it open and flooding her home with sunlight.

"I would stay away from Hiccup unless you want to dig a bigger hole for yourself," her mother said offhandedly, but her eyes snapped up in warning.

Astrid hesitated in the threshold, holding the door open. The distant laughter of children felt like some other world, entirely.

"You know, he could win," she said, and everything in her clenched with nauseating doubt.

"When you get back tonight, I'll have you try on your dress one more time," her mother said; and their argument was punctuated with a slamming door.

----------

Hiccup's fingers drummed against his mug, and he watched the water ripple inside of gazing up at the pacing bear of a man in front of him.

"A holmgang?" Stoick thundered in disbelief. "You couldn't challenge him to a…a…dragon race, or anything' else you're actually good at?"

Hiccup glanced up, head still slightly bowed. Scoldings were nothing new under their roof, but it was never his intention to disappoint his father—that was the unavoidable consequence of a series of poor judgment calls. But that time? No. He was in the right, if not for himself, then for Astrid.

He answered, "I don't think there's any legal weight behind dragon races or who can most accurately recite the Book of Dragons by heart."

His father waved a large hand. "Be serious!"

"I-I am being serious, dad." Hiccup held out his hands in a placating gesture. "What about my face right now suggests that I'm not serious? If I was to challenge Stefnir to some kind of dragon-related contest for Astrid, he would undoubtedly say no."

His father glared down at him. He was all the more intimidating in the low light, shadows and the glow of the hearth playing across his aging face. Then he exhaled, long and exasperated. He pulled out the chair across the table, its legs scraping over the floor, and sat down with his armor clinking and leather rasping. He rubbed his temples with thick fingers; and Hiccup was certain he was responsible for at least half of those wrinkles and wiry strands of gray hair.

"Hiccup…" his father murmured, "you couldn't, for once, leave well enough alone?"

"I…She's…She doesn't want to marry him." Hiccup glanced back down at his mug, sloshing its contents. "What other recourse is there?"

"You let them handle it! It is their matter to sort out," His father thrust his arm toward the front door, emphatically. "You get married to Hertha, as discussed."

Hiccup quirked an eyebrow. "And that way I get to be unhappy, too? Miserable matrimony all around?"

His father's large hand slapped against the table, rattling his plate. "You were fine with it a week ago!"

"No, I wasn't actually," Hiccup mumbled. "That was before I knew a holmgang was a real thing. If it wasn't, I…I don't know. You'd have your way, I guess. The Svensons would have their way; because my hands would legally be tied. But knowing the holmgang is a real, legitimate solution? I couldn't be compliant after that. I care about Astrid. I want to see her happy."

"It's not just freeing her from her marriage Stefnir, son." Stoick's hand was a knife, cutting through the air with each syllable to follow, "If you win, the implication is that she's yours, to court, to marry."

"I…I know," he replied. His eyes traveled up to meet his father's slowly. He hands tightened around his mug with a nervous jolt to the gut. That's..."

His father's eyes narrowed, searching his face in the flickering light. Hiccup had never been a great liar. His eyes gave him away almost every time, should anyone care to look. He winced as his father's eyes widened in realization and horror.

"No," his voice was a plea. It morphed into a threat. "Tell me you didn't…"

And there was no need to feign ignorance nor ask for further clarity. Hiccup knew well what his father meant. He pursed his lips and stared down at the man's clenching fists, hearing those knuckles pop. He could practically feel the anger swelling across the table.

His father's voice was piercing. "Do you understand what you've done? If the Svensons or the Hoffersons find out what you did, the entire terms of the marriage must be renegotiated! Astrid's worth and reputation plummets; and the Hofferson are worse off in the bargain, disgraced. You have slept with another man's wife—future wife, granted; but did you stop and think for one moment—?"

Hiccup held up his hands. "Now that you understand how serious this is, maybe you can help me out? Y'know, some good, fatherly advice?" His father's expression hardened and Hiccup practically fell prostrate across the table. "Come on, dad! You've been trying to make me tougher my whole life. This is actually the first time I need to fight like a Viking."

"Son, my hands are tied. I can't help you with this. I am the chief, and this is a fight set between you and Stefnir that I have to uphold with impartiality. I have to stay neutral. This is your mess—but you're daft if you think you can beat Stefnir Svenson in a fight."

Hiccup frowned, sighing heavily. "Oh, well, thanks for the vote of confidence. It's not like I'm completely inept."

"Confidence?" His father scoffed, rising to his feet to pace again. He pointed a derogating finger at Hiccup. "You can't just avoid him the whole match, slipping away like you do. You're going to have to engage him. Since when do you know how to use a sword and shield like he does?"

"My sword, dad. My shield." Hiccup felt like he could not stress that fact enough, for his ingenuity had to count for something. "I've been working all these extra hours in the smithy, and I think I've—"

His father strode for the door with another dismissive wave. "Spare me the details, Hiccup. I can only pray you survive with all your limbs intact—"

"Nice," Hiccup grumbled flatly.

The chief wrenched open the door, silhouetted by daylight. He whipped around for the last word. "—and that no one else ever finds out what you've done!"

Then he was gone, plunging Hiccup back into the dim light with slam of the door. Aggressive exits were becoming all too routine of late. He glared into the crackling hearth, watching flames and embers spiral up into the smoke in a cathartic dance.

He was tired. Things cascaded from one aggravation to another; from pretending he had no feelings for Astrid and believing she loved someone else, to being stuck in an illicit affair with crossing blades the only means of rectifying the situation. He was beginning to doubt he could ever be content. There seemed to always be something outstanding to gnaw at him; and flying with Toothless or nights with Astrid's body curled around him were his only respite. Young and ignorant, he would have never guessed love could be so arduous. Poems and songs suggested it was easy. Love was wonderful and euphoric in measured verse, but Hiccup found reality far more draining.

When was loving someone crime? Well, perhaps it was when honest affections were explored rather dishonestly.

But when he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of blue. The gentle heat of the nearby fire could almost be Astrid's skin on his. The way she looked at him, touched him, and when she told him she loved him were worth the headache. He was resigned to do battle with Stefnir because it would be worth everything to be with Astrid openly, to have their relationship accepted.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He could hold his own against dimwitted adversaries, but Stefnir would be fast and powerful, skilled in combat as most Hooligans were. His dad would not train him, Astrid certainly could not get away with it. Snotlout would use him as a punching bag and delight in it. The twins and Fishlegs were not even a consideration. He needed someone smart and quick on their feet, intuitive in a fight and powerful as Stefnir would be. Kind of like…

A dragon.

Hiccup perked up, turning around to grin at his Night Fury curled up by the stairs. Toothless's drooping eyes snapped open with a curious tilt of his head.

"Hey, bud. Looks like you're going to be my sparring partner."

-------

If there was one thing Astrid could not stand, it was the gossiping and the stares following her and Stefnir as they walked through the village. It was bad enough to live the ugliness behind closed doors, but it was even worse for their personal business to be dragged out in front of Berk for everyone to see and comment on behind their hands, whispering names they did not think Astrid could hear—oh, but she heard them. It was embarrassing and shameful; and all the mess she never wanted exposed laying out in the open. Eyes lingered on her, and there was judgment behind them. She could imagine the accusations flying around carelessly—worse still, was that they were true.

"You never answered her last night!" Stefnir growled, jogging in front of her to cut her off. He grasped her arm tightly. "How long have you and Hiccup been conspiring behind my back?"

"We were not conspiring! Not at first," she hissed, wrenching her arm free. No more subtlety. No more passive aggression. What was the point? There were not many secrets left to keep. Her claws came out. No more appeasement and no more sense of duty. No more status quo. There was a possible end in sight, and even if Hiccup was defeated, she could marry Stefnir with all her resentment on her sleeve. Being nice and compliant was a wasted effort now that there was no one's feelings to protect. "Once Hiccup found out about the holmgang, I wished the law was written differently so I could challenge you myself!"

"So, he wants to fight your battle for you?"

"No, but he certainly wants me free of you—something he and I agree on."

"Has he put his hands on you? Tell me, Astrid! Right here. No lies!"

She felt her throat tighten and she clenched her sweating hands. "No," she answered. Louder, so the onlookers could hear, she repeated, "NO." Stefnir reached for her shoulders, and she slapped both his hands away. "Back up," she warned. "I'm not your happy bride-to-be anymore."

"So, it had to come to this for you to show me some feeling," he snarled, looking her up and down with new contempt.

"That's right, and it's all hate," she replied, holding her arms wide. "The way you try to control where I go and who I talk to—"

"Because I never trusted him!" Stefnir jerked his head toward the smithy. "Turns out I had every reason not to trust him! I should have tried harder with you. Those looks you gave him, and the looks he gave you. I was stupid. I never should have let you anywhere near him!"

Astrid rolled her eyes, sliding her trembling hands over her pulled back hair.

"You can't put a leash on me, Stef! I tried to do the right thing in the beginning, to make everyone happy, but all that got me was deeper into a lie with you! I was losing myself to be the proper daughter and Viking everyone expects me to be! I can't do it anymore. I'm done! I don't love you!"

Stefnir growled, "Did you ever?"

Astrid was taken aback, and her eyes darted all over his face, searching for a shred of hate to hold on to. He was seething but also hurt: a riled up wounded animal. She answered, "I tried, and that's the best I could do."

"I love you!" he snapped like it was insult, voice returning to full volume and proper ire. "I want to marry you! I could make you happy if you'd give me a chance."

Astrid snorted. Lavish gifts bought the adoration of shallow, petty women, and Stefnir could not seem to measure love beyond material wealth and possessiveness.

"The last two years were your chance, and I believe you gave it your best shot. It just wasn't enough for me," she explained.

"He won't win, though! Then where will we be?"

"Locked in matrimonial despair?" she quipped dryly, hands on her hips.

"When the holmgang is over, and I've wiped the arena with Hiccup's blood, you'll still be mine. I refuse to let what we have die. I've invested too much in—!"

Astrid recoiled, lip curled. "Two years is not too much—!"

"You've given up on the possibility of us. I haven't," Stefnir retorted, advancing. Astrid held her ground, eyes narrowed. "When we flew together and sparred together…those hunts we went on…you can't tell me those meant nothing to you!"

Astrid pursed her lips, unable to meet his eye. She could not deny the camaraderie they shared once, when they could be friends and marriage was still a distant thought. That was when she believed in them, foolishly; committed to doing the right thing. If she had any sense of guilt, it was in deceiving that Stefnir, who was as young and wild and carless as she had been.

He was smug now. "That's what I thought. There's something between us worth fighting for."

"You're crazy. There's nothing here! That's what I'm trying to tell you! What was and what might have been…well, that doesn't matter!" she argued. "You think, even if you win the fight, my feelings are going to change?"

He leaned in, nose nearly touching hers. One of Astrid's fists were balled and poised to punch.

"Well, we'll just have to see. I'm not going to let you make a fool out of me, Astrid." He nodded, as if he could just will the outcome of the holmgang in his favor. Then he strode off, content with the last word like he always was. In his mind, he won if he could bleat the loudest and the longest.

Astrid folded her arms and glared down at the dirt, biting the inside of her lip. The spectators remained around her, and she heard the buzz of hushed and hurried conversations. Their stares were like bee stings, pricking her all over. Her face burned and she marched off toward the stables, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

Dragons were wonderful creatures, unconcerned with Viking laws and social customs. Stormfly would be the first face Astrid saw who did not want to talk about relationships and scandal. Her Nadder was a reliable companion, never swayed in her opinion of her rider. For a few hours, they could get away from Berk, from the hovering cloud of judgment. There was no doubt in her mind, under the scrutiny of her fellow tribeswomen, there was at least a small part of Berk which painted her as some kind of temptress. She wanted to be up in the skies with her dragon, where she could just be Astrid Hofferson: no one's fiancée, no one's daughter, no one's walking target of blame and scorn.

As she walked away from the final resting place of her privacy, the hammering in the smithy grew fainter. She wondered if Hiccup was dealing with his own share of ridicule. At the very least, she hoped each strike of his hammer was forging the clever instrument of Stefnir's defeat.

--------

"Do you have some kind of strategy at least?" Gobber asked. "Not that I'm not cheering for you, but I already made the wedding rings. All that work for nothing if you win…"

He dropped the jewelry on the workbench beside Hiccup, and they might as well have been two solid blocks of lead with how heavily they seemed to fall and demand Hiccup's attention. Jaw twitching, he picked them up, holding them in separate palms because it was an insult to see them rest together so beautifully. Astrid's band was thinner, several links of silver twisted together into a small rope-like pattern, fashioned into a ring. In his other hand, Stefnir's band was thicker, engraved with simple knotwork and runes of protection.

"They're nice," he said dully, handing them back to Gobber. They were placed inside a small, simple wooden box.

The older man shrugged. "Eh. They'll do, I suppose—though, I don't know why you didn't make 'em. With the Selection over with, you're not exactly drowning in saddle orders at the moment."

"You know why I can't, Gobber," Hiccup muttered, picking up his hammer and chisel.

Gobber nodded. "Aye, but you decided to assist with the ceremonial sword for them anyway, not to mention your odd piece over there." He nodded to where the nearly finished Dragon Blade laid atop of like sketches. A jar of viscous Monstrous Nightmare saliva sat beside it.

Hiccup answered. "I guess I'm in a mood."

Carefully, he continued engraving the blade in front of him—his prototypical weapon would have to wait until nightfall, when he could work in private.

Gobber had forged the ceremonial blade a couple days prior, and Hiccup had offered to decorate it, not at all in accordance with Stefnir's wishes as they had been lined out to the older smith. It was a long broadsword, and it would be adorned with intricate patterns in the fuller, entwining stylized dragons whose bodies were comprised of knotwork, once Hiccup was through with it.

Gobber scratched his chin, quirking an overgrown brow. "I don't understand. You challenge Stefnir, but you're finishing the wedding sword for him, and putting so much effort into it, too. Isn't that a bit…counterintuitive?"

Hiccup paused, taking the opportunity to crack his tense neck. After a moment, he answered, "This sword is not for him."

He was crafting it for Astrid, truth be told, never to be touched by Stefnir, never to be used for his vows. It would sit in Hiccup's bedroom, among his valuables for an indeterminate amount of time. But should anyone come to ask, he was continuing the project for insurance in case he lost—to make sure the wedding could still proceed.

"Ah," Gobber grunted, though his face was still plenty confused. "Well…do you suppose it should be for Stefnir? Plans for the wedding are moving forward as if you've already lost. I mean, you probably will…"

"I seem to recall you once telling me I should fight for Astrid," Hiccup retorted over his meticulous engraving.

"Did I?" Gobber replied offhandedly.

"Yes."

"Well, clearly I meant before she got engaged and it would cause such a…" the blacksmith's one good hand gestured searchingly, "shitshow."

"You didn't know?" Hiccup glanced up, suspicious.

"About Astrid and Stefnir? Contrary to what you may believe, Hiccup, your father doesn't tell me everything about everything. Like you, I assumed it was a love-match between 'em."

"Well, it's not."

Gobber sighed. "So, she loves you. Perhaps the two of you could have figured that out earlier and saved everyone a lot of time and grief?" he asked with a wry grin.

"Arranged marriage, Gobber. Remember? Our feelings don't really matter."

"Yes, so let's settle it the old Viking way!" Gobber chimed. "I haven't seen a good holmgang since before you were born."

Hiccup glanced up again, brow furrowed. "Who won?"

"The fiancé, of course," Gobber answered, mumbling around the finger picking at his false tooth.

"Of…course?"

"Face it, Hiccup. A man never fights so passionately as when he's fightin' to protect what's his."

Hiccup's gaze snapped back to his work, and his stomach turned to think of the last time he saw Astrid and Stefnir together: the way he had bellowed at her, punching the wall next to her head. She had stared up at him with searing hatred, as she extended him the mercy of her shame. She would not brawl him in the Great Hall during a holiday, and Stefnir had thought he was the one completely in control of that situation.

Then Hiccup remembered his own anger, his furious disgust as Stefnir berated Astrid. Only a handful of times could he recall the desire to hurt somebody; and before that Selection feast, the urge was exclusively reserved for anyone who threatened Toothless.

"So, that brings me back te my original question." Gobber paused for dramatic effect. "Do you have a strategy?"

"I'm going to use the Dragon Blade prototype and my Gronckle iron shield to throw off his game," Hiccup explained. It was as if he was reciting dragon trivia with how easily he rattled off his plan. He had been awake in bed until the wee hours, running over the upcoming fight in his head. "Stefnir's skilled, but he's large. I think I can outmaneuver him. He'll wear himself out."

"You're assuming he won't land a cut on you in the meantime, while you're doing all your dodging and weaving."

"Well, I'm not going to assume I'm going to lose either," he droned. A large hand smacked him in the back of the head, and he winced. He spun around, scowling. "What was that for?"

"For being a dunce," Gobber commented, hobbling his way toward the roaring forge, leaving his former pupil to his bitter work.

------

Toothless crouched low to the ground, rolling his shoulders like a cat ready to pounce. Hiccup stared him down, reading his dragon's body language, trying to anticipate his next move. Large eyes studied him as they slowly circled each other by the pond in the cove. The dragon was prepared to spar their third round, but neither one of them had yet made a move.

How serious could they truly be with one another?

Toothless would never hurt him, but the Night Fury would attack non-lethally. Of that, Hiccup was certain. It would come quick and powerful, and he steeled his gut for it.

Toothless inhaled and Hiccup dove for his shield that was laying on the ground a few yards away. He had only just managed to raise it up in front of him when he was hit by a rapid succession of smaller, contained plasma blasts. They were strong enough to knock him on his feet and radiate heat through his clothing. Hel, it would leave a blistering mark on his skin should he be too slow. He would be down for the count, but he trusted Toothless not to seriously maim him—he had not done so yet—just as much as the dragon trusted him to evade. They knew each other too well. Reading Toothless was as easy as reading a book, but Hiccup had no other options or willing participants.

The Gronckle iron shield deflected the dragon's fire easily enough, but the force of the impact had knocked Hiccup on his back. He scrambled to right himself, but his dragon was faster.

Toothless pounced, biting down on the shield and wrenching it off Hiccup's arm. With a flick of his head, it went flying, sliding along the mossy ground some yards away. He then reared back and stomped down, like he was trying to squash an abnormally large insect.

Hiccup rolled from one side to the other, dodging Toothless's claws. He somersaulted backwards, onto his feet. Out from underneath Toothless, he sprinted for his glinting shield, diving again. His knees hit the dirt as his dragon fired another volley of tiny, injure-not-kill blasts. Hiccup gripped the shield tightly, lifting it as he swiveled on his knees. The strength behind even a reduced plasma blast rattled the bones in his body. He blocked the Night Fury's attack, but it knocked him off balance. He tried to stand, but Toothless spun around, swinging his tail like a long, black, scaly whip. Hiccup ducked as it cleared his head by inches, but Toothless tried again, aiming for his legs.

Hiccup tumbled over it, rolling along the ground and using the momentum to push up on his feet. The Night Fury let out a growl of frustration. He did not like to lose.

Hiccup ran at Toothless as the dragon bounded straight for him. The dragon attempted to pounce and wrestle his human to the ground, but every time the Night Fury tried to get a hold of Hiccup, he managed to sidestep or wiggle free.

Toothless sat back on his haunches, taking a couple of swipes at his rider, and Hiccup seized the opportunity to fire the small bola concealed in the center hub of his shield. The weighted rope snagged around Toothless' front legs and his thick neck. He gave an irritated roar as he toppled backwards, the bola throwing off his balance. He flailed on his back for a moment before managing to right himself, firing retaliatory plasma blasts.

Hiccup raised his shield and braced himself, deflecting every blow. Even though the force of the blasts pushed him back, he had dug in his feet, real and prosthetic. That time, he remained upright and balanced. Victory to the dragon rider.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, thrusting his fist into the air. "I finally did it!"

It had only taken three rounds and a hope and a prayer.

Toothless, bitter about losing the skirmish, did not share in his enthusiasm. The dragon shook free of his bonds and whipped his tail around again, connecting with Hiccup's chest. He was thrown into the pond, gasping as he surfaced. The wind had been knocked out of him and he sputtered, swimming for the bank.

Toothless let out a warble that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"Very funny," Hiccup wheezed, climbing out of the water. "You are the worst loser I have ever met, and I would know. Snotlout's my cousin."

Toothless just continued to "chuckle".

"Yeah, yeah. Sticks and stones, and all that," Hiccup sighed, walking forward to pick up the discarded bola. He tucked it back into the center of his shield.

The Night Fury curled up on a sunny patch of grass, watching his human with mild interest. When his ears perked up and his snout turned skyward, Hiccup took notice of rattling leaves and the soft beat of wings overhead. A shadow hovered over him, and he squinted up into the sunlight. A dragon descended, and he knew it was Stormfly before he even made out the color of her scales or the spikes on her tail.

"Am I ever glad to see you," Astrid said, patting her Nadder absently.

"How did you know I was here?" Hiccup asked as she dismounted.

Their dragons conversed in the peculiar way they always did—some sort head bobbing equivalent to a secret handshake and indistinct warbling.

"I didn't. I've been out on Stormfly all afternoon and I saw you down here."

"Had to get away from the village?" Hiccup asked, setting his shield down as she strode toward him.

They embraced, briefly. Astrid pulled back and she looked as spent as he felt.

"Hiccup, it's awful. Whispers and stares everywhere I go. Gods only know what they're saying," she ran her fingers through wind-tousled bangs.

She gazed up at him, her brow heavy and her eyes filled with distress. He felt a stab of guilt. Only a day ago, she was still held in such high regard around Berk. Everyone beamed at the bride-to-be. He found it nauseating at the time.

"I'm sorry" he said. "I feel like this is my—"

She scoffed, shaking her head and taking a step toward him. "It's both of us. Don't think I'm going to let you take all the blame for it." She glanced away, eyes dark, and added, "You're already fighting my battle for me."

He took a step toward her that time. His hands migrated to her waist and he pulled her closer. "If we're in this together it's our battle, isn't it? Whether you fight or I do, does it really matter?"

Her hands fell to his chest and she huffed. "You know what I mean! It should be me in the ring, going at him with my axe. Not you and your shield and…whatever else you're throwing together in the shop."

Hiccup frowned. He could deal with just about everyone else's negativity, but Astrid wanting to take his place and fight on his behalf, on her behalf—well, it was disheartening. He needed her support.

"You know, it's getting pretty exhausting that no one seems to think I can win," he deadpanned.

She took a deep breath. "You've pulled off some pretty crazy stunts, Hiccup, I'll give you that. The Red Death, all those wild dragons we've faced, Dagur and Alvin, but…I don't want to sit by and watch you get hurt." Her eyes flickered to his prosthesis, then back to his face. "Not again. Not for me. It's all wrong."

Astrid, so proud, so determined to save herself. He understood, but there was nothing for it.

"I don't want to sit by and watch you marry Stefnir. If this fight fixes that, then I'm alright with it."

She rolled her eyes, picking idly at the lacings of his tunic. "You make it sound like this is just some other dragon-related problem you can solve."

"It is a solution. Maybe not as easy or clean as we would've hoped, but it's the only chance we've got. It's worth taking this chance, or things continue along the same, dismal trajectory. I can't…not do this, Astrid."

She smirked. "Hiccup, the boar-headed optimist?"

He grinned. "More like the pragmatist."

She closed the space between them, hugging him tightly. It felt incredible, and his arms came around her at once. Her, pressed against him, face in the crook of his neck—that was how it needed to be in Berk, in front of everyone, without the scandal. For the past two years, they should have been free to explore such affection. The holmgang was a gamble with his blood but he would risk every drop for the two of them to be together. A busted nose and broken bones would be less painful than continuing on like they had been before Dragon Island, and never knowing a shred of their complicated happiness.

"My parents are keeping a close eye on me," she murmured, her breath tickling his throat. "In the village, everyone's watching all the time now, like this sad situation is some big spectacle. I don't…I don't think it's wise to sneak out at night. I don't think we should…"

The words stung but it was the prudent choice to make. He had been having similar ideas swirling in his head after the argument with his father.

"I, uh…I agree," he said. "This has put enough trouble on you, and I don't—"

"I'm not some damsel, Hiccup," she growled, pulling back. She poked him in the chest with a sharp fingernail. "I'm not the only person whose feelings matter in this. It sucks that it has to be this way, but don't make it sound like I've the most to lose when you're the one going into the ring."

He sighed, shaking his head. "I know you're not a damsel, but I love you. Am I not allowed to care?"

She stared at him for a moment, then bowed her head, tucking it under his chin.

"Well, I guess I'll have to worry about you, then," she grumbled. "Someone has to." She was silent for a moment, hand rubbing his chest over his tunic. He felt her lips graze his neck and his eyes fluttered closed. "Promise you can win this?" she whispered. "Not for my sake, not to free me from some terrible marriage, but so that my fiancé doesn't chop you into pieces."

Her fingers were already on his belt, and he kissed the crown of her head before untucking her fitted top from her skirt.

"I promise. I'm going to win this," he said firmly, and though he could not honestly promise any such thing, he would fight as if that vow meant everything.

"Hiccup…"

Their lips collided in a hot, deep kiss. They wasted no time, tongues brushing sensually as they began their awkward stripping. Eager hands tore at each other's clothing as their dragons frolicked somewhere nearby; they did not care. It would be the last time for a few days, but hopefully not for good. Somewhere in the back of Hiccup's mind, it registered that their affair might continue should he lose; and that all of the pain and bitterness in their lives could persist, business as usual. But as her breast binding hit the ground, Hiccup hoped whenever he put his hands on her again, she would be completely his to do so.

#hiccstrid #hiccstrid fic #affairs au

[https-maxine-stuff]

The star-crossed lovers! More incorrect quotes!

A/N its mostly Cedric & Astrid deadass.

Astrid: You wanna see how hardcore I am?

Astrid: *punches wall*

Astrid:

Astrid: Take me to the hospital.

-

Cedric: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut...

Astrid: You would eat yourself?

Cedric: I wouldn’t even question it.

-

Cedric: I actually have a black belt.

Astrid: In what, karate?

Cedric: No, from Gucci.

Astrid:

Astrid: why am I dating,, you?

-

Draco : Please, I'm begging you go to a doctor.

Harry: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

-

Draco : Hermione was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some.

Hermione: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it.

Draco : Hermione, you ate a chair.

-

Older!Astrid: Stop buying plastic skeletons for Halloween! It's terrible for the environment!

Scorpius: Yeah! Locally sourced, all natural skeletons are much more environmentally friendly!

Older!Astrid: No???

-

Older!Astrid: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are.

Older!Draco: It’s not a joke.

Older!Draco: *sniffles*

Older!Draco: I’m a legit snack.

-

Older!Astrid: *holding a bottle* Is this whiskey or perfume?

Older!Draco: *chugs entire bottle*

Older!Draco: It’s perfume.

Older!Astrid: I knew I should’ve chosen death over this.

-

Older!Astrid: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be fine!

Older!Harry: How can you still say that?

Older!Astrid: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

Older!Harry: oh my god.

-

Store Worker: Would a Ms. Granger please come to the front desk?

Hermione, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem?

Store Worker: points to Harry and Ron

Store Worker: I believe they belong to you?

Harry and Ron, simultaneously: We got lost :(

Hermione: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

-

Ron: Don't worry, I got a plan.

Harry: Alright.

Ron: TraitorSayWhat?

Hermione: Excuse me?

Ron: What?

Harry:

Ron:

Ron: No wait-

-

Ron: Why are you on the floor?

Harry: I'm depressed.

Harry: Also I was stabbed, can you get Hermione, please.

-

Hermione: Isn’t it weird that we pay money to see other people?

Astrid: Plane tickets?

Cedric: Concert tickets?

Draco: Prostitution?

Hermione, holding her broken frames: Glasses.

-

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.

Hermione: Shit.

Astrid: Wait, three?

Cop: Yeah?

Cedric: OH MY GOD DRACO FELL OFF!!!

-

Hermione: There is no future. there is no past. do you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet.

Astrid:

Cedric:

Draco:

Everyone Else At Hermione’s Surprise Birthday Party:

Astrid: All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake first.

-

Hermione: *Gently taps table*

Harry: *Taps back*

Cedric: What are they doing?

Astrid: Morse code.

Hermione: *Aggressively taps table*

Harry: *Slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

Cedric: *whispering* what she say?

Astrid: something about his mum.

-

Hermione: Hah! 69! You know what that means?

Harry: What?

Cedric: That you're a child.

Astrid: HOW'D YOU GUESS MY IQ!?

-

Hermione: Yo is Astrid sleeping or dead?

Harry: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts.

Cedric: Yeah, so did I.

Astrid: Okay first of all, fuck you-

Cedric: babe I was joking *shitting bricks*

Astrid: No, no more kisses for a month-

-

Cedric: Why are Hermione and Harry sitting with their backs to each other?

Astrid: They had a fight.

Cedric: Then why are they holding hands?

Astrid: They get sad when they fight.

-

Cho: Cedric...

Cedric: Oh no, 'Cedric' in b-flat.

Cedric: You're disappointed.

-

Cho: I was arrested for being too cool.

Cedric: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

Cho: this is why I’m going to fuck your girlfriend.

Cedric: HUH

-

Cho: God, give me patience.

Cedric: I think you mean 'give me strength'.

Cho: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead.

-

Cho: Am I going too far?

Cedric: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

-

Cho: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.

Cedric, drinking toast: Why do you say that?

-

Astrid: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.

Cedric: What if it bites me and it dies!?

Hermione: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Cedric, learn to listen.

Harry: What if it bites itself and I die?

Draco: That’s voodoo.

George: What if it bites me and someone else dies?

Cedric: That’s correlation, not causation.

Harry: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?

Draco: That’s kinky.

Astrid: Oh my God.

-

'Can I copy the homework?'

Astrid: I can help you with it!

Cedric: Yeah, sure.

Harry: Bold of you to assume I did the homework.

Hermione: lol nope.

Draco: Wait, we had homework?

George: *Read 5:55pm*

-

Astrid: Rules are made to be broken.

Cedric: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken.

Harry: Uh, piñatas.

Hermione: Glow sticks.

Draco: Karate boards.

George: Spaghetti when you have a small pot.

Astrid: Rules, also don’t break your fucking spaghetti you uncultured swine.

Cedric:

Cedric: I’m-

-

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker*

Astrid: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.

Everyone:

Cedric: ...I did. I broke it.

Astrid: No. No you didn't. Harry?

Harry: Don't look at me. Look at Hermione.

Hermione: What?! I didn't break it.

Harry: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?

Hermione: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.

Harry: Suspicious.

Hermione: No, it's not!

Draco: If it matters, probably not, but George was the last one to use it.

George: Liar! I don't even drink that crap!

Draco: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?

George: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Draco!

Cedric: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Astrid.

Astrid: No! Who broke it!?

Everyone:

Draco: Astrid... Harry's been awfully quiet.

Harry: rEALLY?!

*Everyone starts arguing*

Astrid, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it.

Astrid: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick.

Astrid:

Astrid: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

-

Astrid: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Cedric: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Harry: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it, also Voldermort happened.

Hermione: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Draco: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn.

George:

George: I have emotional scars.

Astrid: George get out.

George: :(

-

Astrid: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?

Cedric: >:O language

Harry: Yeah watch your fucking language

Hermione: OKAY WHO TAUGHT HARRY THE FUCK WORD?

Draco: 'The fuck word'.

George: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time

Harry: Oh my god they censored it

Draco: Say fuck, George.

Harry: Do it, George. Say fuck.

-

*The squad is over at Astrid's house*

Cedric: Ohhhh, we each get our own oven?

Astrid: ... N-No...

Astrid, laughing: How many ovens do you think I have???

Cedric, motioning to their kitchen: Three, I thought!

Harry: I see a-

Astrid, motioning to one device: This is a microwave.

Cedric: Oh, well I-

Astrid: Hey wait wait, actually- hang on- *fiddles with the buttons on the microwave*

Astrid, amazed: Its got a bake setting!

Hermione: Ohoho, you learn something new every day!

Draco: Do we- Do we roshambo for who gets to pick first?

Astrid: Now I've just discovered I have more ovens than I thought, we don't have to roshambo nothin!

Astrid: I am someone who owns four ovens...

Astrid, louder and way too happy: I am someone... who owns FOUR OVENS...

Astrid: I didn't know I was so rich with ovens...

George, pointing to another appliance: Also the toaster oven!

Astrid:

Cedric: Ohhh, toasty boy! Four- Five ovens!

Astrid:

Astrid, fucking ECSTATIC: I AM SOMEONE WHO OWNS FIVE OVENS

-

Astrid: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis.

Cedric: You're like 17 years old

Astrid: I MIGHT DIE AT 34!

-

Astrid: Cedric and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's-

Cedric: Sentences.

Astrid: Don't interrupt me. Like I was saying, we finish each-others work.

-

Astrid: Am I in trouble?

Cedric: Take a guess.

Astrid: No?

Cedric: Take another guess.

-

Astrid: It’s dark in here

Cedric: Don’t worry dude I got this

Cedric: *Stomps their feet*

Cedric: *Skechers light up*

Astrid: wanna makeout that was so hot.

-

Astrid: *Kicks the door down looking panicked*

Cedric: What did you do?

Astrid: Nobody died.

Cedric: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

#angst #harry potter goblet of fire #cedric diggory x oc #oc story #oc stuff #right person not enough time #oc x canon #soulmates #harry james potter #hermione granger #hufflepride #astoria #anger #drunk #draco lucius malfoy #death #yule ball #cho chang #star crossed lovers #eventual smut #fred weasley #ginny weasley #george weasley #inccorect quotes #inccorect harry potter quotes #kiss stains #friends to lovers trope #scorpius malfoy #ron weasley

[equallyshaw]

The Medicated Series: features OC’s with medical issues such as depression, anxiety, physical disabilities such as MS or Rheumatoid Arthritis as well as any other autoimmune disease such as Crohn’s, endometriosis, infertility, etc. (not an autoimmune but you get it) I feel, as a person with a physical disability, that there is a lack of representation and have always wanted to see myself in y/n stories. Always have and always will.

ｗｏｒｄ ｃｏｕｎｔ：1.9k

Preview:

It was another sunny summer day in Sweden, a place that Astrid Karlsson would always call home. Yet, she didn't enjoy it like she used to. The mild summer days were spent in doors, away from the sun's rays. Only venturing out for small periods at a time, especially if it was a uv of 10. No, she was not allergic to the sun by any means. But, she had to be careful with how much time she did spend outside. A drastic differance between her childhood and now, her 25th year on this earth. Her birthday this year, did not feel like her birthday with the sudden change in her life. Astrid Karlsson was diagnosed with Lupus the previous Sepetember so this was her tenth month living with this disease. She remembers waking up a butterfly shaped rash the following morning, after her 24th birthday. She immeditaly panicked, and went to the emergency room where they ran tests and did many rounds of blood work. They declared that they could not figure out what was wrong with her, so she trudged on for a few more months. She dealt with more rashes, incredible fatigure, muscle aches and stifness as well as random fevers that made her feel like she was dying. Nobody outside of her immediate family, and ofcourse work knew about her illness. She didn't want the whole world to find out, so she withrdrew from social media and only checked in with her closest friends and family about others in there lives.

Her mother this year, had decided to throw a party for her. Much to her dismay ofcourse, she did not want to celebrate a life that had turned on her. Astrid was still very much in the grief stage of anger.

The Seven Stages of Grief for Disease: Denial, Pleading/Barganing, Anger, Anxiety/Depression, Loss of Self and Confusion, Re evaulation of goals/life and finally, accpetance.

Astrid as you can tell, still had a long way to go. Yet, this grief process goes on for the rest of your life. It will never stop, it will never go away. So why would Astrid want to celebrate her birthday? Why could she not miss one party? She had the rest of her life to 'celebrate'. Her mother would not take no for an answer, and she debated to not even show up. Yet, that would hurt her mother. Her two sibilings, Olivia and Liam had fully supported her decisions. They would be by her side no matter what, they too didn't think a party would be a good idea. Her mother was in the stage of 'let's do everything in our power - even if it is ridiculious- to try to make her happy!!!' and her ideas usually failed. They thought there mother was crazy for trying to bring Astrid again and again out of her shell. But they also saw how much she had secluded to being alone. She eventually losed many friends this past year, some family memebers stopped checking in when nobody would answer for her. Why would they? They weren't living her life, and respected her wishes to stay silent.

Astrid Karlsson, was full of life. She was a pinnacle piece in so many lives growing up. She was a best friend to many, many kids her ages in the community. Everybody knew the green eyed, red headed girl who loved to run up and down the lake for hours. In and out of the water at all hours. Even until her 24th, she was still that redheaded spunk, and when she grew silent, everybody had wondered where she went. Especially the Nylanders. When Michael and Camilla stopped hearing about Astrid from her parents- they questioned them but they did not offer up much of an excuse. Though hurt, they gave them there privacy and never asked again. The boys Alex and Willaim, had been hurt the most. Their best friend from childhood had dropped off the face of the earth, even though they hadn't seen eachother in years- those childhood memories and friednships would never fade. And when the summers ticked by between the last time they saw one another, it was almost haunting how you could go from being best friends about to go off and play halfway across the world, and to one's who know not a single thing.

Yet, that was Astrids' choice. One that needed and was demanded to respected- per Camilla.

Astrid was nervous to say the least, the day of the party. Her mother said she invited a lot of family, neighbors and old friends from there childhood. Liam gripped her hand briefly as they walked towards the backyard where the party was taking place. A lot of cars were here, and that made her nervous. "What if they make fun of me?" Astrid asked stopping in her tracts, looking down at her arms that were filled with patches of a lupus rash. She touched her hair, thinking about how thin it now laid on her scalp. "I can't do this." she said with tears brimming her eyes. Liam sighed sadly, "No, you can. besides you have Liv and I and if somebody so much breathes funny- they are goners." He said walking to her and pulling her into his arms. She tried so hard to feel comfortable in her skin, not even bothering to put makeup on to cover her rashes that came and went suddenly and randomly. Olivia and her spent hours at a time, buying new clothes, makeup and skincare but Astrid simply didn't feel like trying anymore. If people were going to like her, they had to accept her for who she was. Her scars and all.

She sighed looping her arm within her older brothers and nodded to him, before they started on the path to the backyard. The backyard was buzzing alive with some soft abba playing in the background, Astrid's favorite band, ofcourse. Everybody in there close family seemed to be there plus some friends in the community and the one's from there childhood; the Nylanders. Yes, Michael and Camilla were still friends with Mark and Vera Karlsson but the kids it seemed have drifted apart from one another. Vera busied herself waiting for her youngest to finally make her apperance. She tried so hard to put on a brave face, but her husband knew better. She was putting on an act, to make herself feel better. They both didn't know if she was going to show up or not. Astrid had made that very clear, more than once. "Where are they?" Vera muttered as she stared at the space between the front yard and the back swirling around her white wine. "She will be here, I promise. We know she cannot refuse a good cupcake and some abba." Mark said coming up beside her and she sighed. "I just know, she will think it's too much." she commented on the string lights lining the backyard, the flowers that were woven in between the tables, chairs and the string lights. Even the gazebo had lights and flowers donning it as well. Astrid's favorite reading spot as a kid, no longer served any purpose now that she was never there. "She will love it, think of her 16th. She adored these decorations." Mark said wrapping an arm around his wife's back, placing a soft peck on her head. "That's a car door." he mused turning around and began to let them know, that they were there. Everybody grew quieter even though she knew they were all there, just not who.

"Im gonna kill mama, if embarrses me." Astrid mused, making Liam laugh out loud- alerting the guests that they were about to round the corner. "Oh, doesn't she know älskling (sweetheart)." he mused.

They rounded the corner, Astrid's nerves growing by the second. As soon as she saw everybody, she froze and put a hand over her mouth. She was surprised at how many people actually came, there had to have been atleast 50 people. "Grattis på födelsedagen" or "Happy birthday" were thrown at her causing Liam to laugh at his little sister's shyness. "Im gonna kill her." she mumbled, causing him to laugh even more. "Happy birthday, my love." There mama said coming over and giving her daughter a hug. She eyed the rashes as she went in, and when they parted her papa came in with a big hug to distract her. Astrid pulled apart was immeditely overwhelmed by the amount of aunts and uncles that were hounding her. She felt like she could not breathe, but managed to get through there questions and sentiments.

About 15 minutes later, she excused herself to get some water from the house. Tap water in her opinion was the best, even though gilded by some to be disgusting. She waved at people and hugged others as she made her way into the house. She smiled at the familiar kitchen, plucking a glass cup from the cupbard and filled it from the tap. She leaned against the sink and sighed, taking in the chill against her throat. Her chest was on fire, no literally. A hot flash had appeared,and it was only a matter of time until it went away. She fanned herself, cursing the birthday gods. Couldn't this had happened at another time? She grabbed a washcloth from the drawer and wet it from the sink and placed it on her open chest above her neckline. She moved from the kitchen to the den and sat down near the bookshelf that was less bright then the other spots.

She looked at her watch to see the time, and realized she had been in the house for twenty minutes trying to calm her body down. Yet, her system was on fire if she liked it or not. She laid down on the couch fully, shutting her eyes for mere minutes as her faitgue was kicking in again. After a few minutes, she heard footsteps coming towards her after the back door being shut. She sat up in panic, not realizing that the said footsteps were already in the same room as her. She stood up, and noticed who it was. Her breathe hitched in her throat, as she realized who it was.

The blonde blue eyed boy that had stolen her heart, many moons go. He stood there concerned by her stance and heavy breathing. He stepped forward, unsure of what to say or do. "Are you ok?" he questioned after a few seconds of an intense staring contest between the two. She shook her head, "No, but it doesn't matter." she responded walking past him. "Wait!" he said as soon as he noticed the rash on her arms but she wouldn't stop walking. "Sid!" he yelled out again, stopping her dead in her tracks. "What do you mean by that?" he questioned walking around her. He could see the nervous tears pooling at her eyes, and he sighed. "I don't want to talk about this right now." she said biting her lip in frustration. He stared at her for a second trying to find the words that he had wanted to say for the past year when she dropped off the side of the universe. "Why not?" he questioned, trying to read her face. "Because than my mom will have to face reality again, and we do not want this wonderful party to go to shame." she exclaimed before walking outside, but not without a fake smile dawning her olive skin.

HEHEHEHE!

I hope you guys liked! Please remember to like, reblog and possibly follow me if you'd like to read more from me :)

also, this will more than likely be a shorter series, but alas- hope you enjoyed !

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