#as far as we know she doesn’t even know they exist

[seramilla]

Okay Vaggies emotional turmoil I 100% understand and I am LIVING for the angst but can we touch on Carmilla, Clara, and Odette? They just learned that their daughter and sister, their BABY sister is not only alive but also a full grown adult at this time.

They missed everything. All of her firsts and all her heart breaks. They weren’t there when she needed advice. Or for any of her awkward questions. They missed getting to grow up with her. Getting to raise her. Getting to know her. I KNOW they want some way to get that family back together.

And she missed having a family. Having anyone. Unless you count the exorcist cause in a way they are her sisters.

Either way more angst for your mind. And if you write about it more content for me to consume.

Carmilla does meet Vaggie at the door to her compound this time, just as she'd promised. When the angel arrives, the district of warehouses and workers loading and unloading trucks is deserted. The street is still empty and eerily quiet. Vaggie suspects Carmilla’s people are still stocking up from the Extermination. Not much manufacturing to be done while fresh angelic weapons are still lining the streets, waiting to be salvaged.

Vaggie doesn’t even need to buzz the door — as soon as she comes within sight of the camera, the door lifts, and Carmilla is standing there. Just as tall and intimidating as ever, especially compared to her, but her eyes communicate the exact opposite of the impatience they had the last time she'd been here. Now, she really seems like she’s trying to see Vaggie, see into her, instead of like the intruder she'd been before. Vaggie shifts between her feet awkwardly.

“Umm, hi, Carmilla,” Vaggie says, making a waving motion with her hand. What was that, idiot?! Vaggie screams at herself. Why are you such a fucking putz?

"Hello, dear," Carmilla greets her, warm and inviting and so unlike that fierce warrior that taught her all that fancy footwork a week prior. Now she's looking at the angel like she has something to prove. "I'm glad to see you again. Would you come in?"

"Yeah." Vaggie agrees, rubbing the back of her head nervously, and following her inside. The warehouse is just as dark and depressing as the last time she'd been here, and just as empty. No one else is around, and Vaggie wonders why Carmilla is here on her own.

They don't go far. A short trip up the elaborate staircase, and Carmilla turns them toward a small office space at the very top. She opens the door, letting the little angel head inside first, before entering herself and turning on a light. It's much more inviting in here, with big windows and lots of natural light. The space is meant to look like a small apartment, maybe one Carmilla stays in when she's overseeing her workers. A futon and coffee table sit in the corner, with an industrial-sized desk on the other side of the room, covered with papers.

"Sit anywhere you'd like, dear," Carmilla instructs. There's really only one place to sit, other than Carmilla's big executive office chair, so Vaggie takes one edge of the futon. Suddenly, Carmilla reappears with two cups of tea in her hand. She gives one to Vaggie. "I made some tea for your arrival. Hope you like chamomile."

"Th-thank you," Vaggie says, taking her cup. She doesn't drink right away, just rubs her fingers against the rough ceramic surface for a moment, before finally taking a sip. Carmilla sits on the opposite end of the futon beside her. Both women just co-exist in the space for a while, letting the silence permeate, unsure of where to begin. Ultimately, it's Vaggie who breaks the silence.

"I was hoping I could talk to you about...the other day," Vaggie admits, still not able to meet Carmilla's gaze. Carmilla doesn't have that problem. She's staring straight at Vaggie, overly hopeful, fighting the urge to reach over to her, and grasp her shoulder. Vaggie notices the subtle shift in her movement, like she's trying to hold herself back. She smiles...it's a sad smile. One that speaks of unspoken feelings rather than genuine happiness. Vaggie wants that to change. Why is this so difficult?

"It's okay," Vaggie says, finally able to look Carmilla in the eye. "I'm not really a touchy-feely person, except with Charlie. But you can hug me, if you want."

Carmilla had gotten so used to doing it that first day in the hospital. Vaggie can tell she wants to do it again. They'd both been so confused, and desperate for one another's affection. Leaning toward Vaggie slowly, so as not to scare her away, Carmilla scooches closer to her on the futon, and puts one arm around the angel.

Like she'd said, Vaggie is not normally a touchy person, except with Charlie. She gets the impression Carmilla isn't either, except with her daughters. Even so, Vaggie turns her small body into the older woman, and falls into her embrace. Carmilla moves in even closer, short of wrapping herself around the girl again, and starts stroking her long hair, like she'd done at the hospital. It had helped calm Vaggie down then.

For some reason, the movement sets Vaggie off this time, and she struggles so badly not to cry. Pushing away slightly, she rubs her good eye with the back of her hand, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," Vaggie says, ashamed at how easily she crumbles in front of this woman. She's normally made of better stuff than this. "I didn't come here to do this again. I really wanted to talk."

Vaggie keeps rubbing at her good eye, and then at her eyepatch, as if it's hurting her. She does so until the skin on her face and arm starts to turn red and raw. Carmilla pulls Vaggie's arm away, placing it between them in her lap.

"Don't." Carmilla says, squeezing Vaggie's hand. "Don't hurt yourself. I've been doing a lot of that the last few days, too. It's okay. You don't have to hide it."

"It's not okay!" Vaggie exclaims, getting frustrated with herself again. "I came here to ask questions, and maybe give you answers, too. This isn't how it was supposed to go."

"We've got time," Carmilla says, pulling her closer again. Vaggie is thankful for it. At least she can hide her embarrassment in Carmilla's chest, where she doesn't have to acknowledge her tears. "We can just sit here, and talk some more. We can do whatever you want."

Then, hesitating, not sure if Vaggie is ready yet, but Carmilla adds the caveat anyway, "My daugh--Odette and Clara will be here shortly. They've been out gathering supplies. You don't have to, but would you...want to meet them?"

Vaggie remembers Carmilla's other girls. They'd delivered Sir Pentious' weapons that day, when he still found everyone at the hotel so untrustworthy. She'd never given the two women much thought before at all, but admittedly, she is very curious now. She doesn't know what they will make of her...but if they're also family, if there's something she can learn about her would-have-been life from before...there's a part of her that really wants to know.

"Would they...be okay with that?" Vaggie asks. "Do they even know about me?"

"They know about you, yes," Carmilla answers. "I can't...say with certainty how they'll react. They are their own people. But if we want to try and make this work...?"

Carmilla leaves the statement open-ended. Vaggie gets it. These one-on-one rendezvous with Carmilla could go on ad nauseam, and a part of her is okay with that...but another part really wants to know all the extended members of her family. She's not unfamiliar with having sisters before. In a sense, all the Exorcists had been her sisters. They worked together, and trained together. Made small talk, and had each other's backs (most of the time). Maybe this wouldn't be much different.

"Yeah," Vaggie says, acknowledging what Carmilla had been trying to convey before. It won't be easy, but...maybe it's another step they can take together. "I am nervous, but...I'd like to meet them. If that's okay with you."

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #vaggie #odette hazbin hotel #clara hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #sir pentious hazbin hotel #ask #anon #fan theories #vaggie carmilla related au

[pakunod-a]

Abstained.

A/N: a repost from my old blog (@ayayabaroque) with a few tiny revisions, based on Kung 'Di Rin Lang Ikaw and Sa Ngalan Ng Pag-Ibig, both by December Avenue <3 Warnings: Sumeru Archon Quest spoilers, (Use of Scaramouche's real/given name) horrible English </3

If you aren’t the reason to love, would I stop my heart from getting hurt?

Kunikuzushi was beyond saving, he was impossible to love. His own creator abandoned him, his only friends left him, and being faced with his own immortality, he knows that you’ll leave him too.

You believe that though your flaws of mortality remain, you would do your best to stay by his side for eternity.

But as he drifts of into the company of another, a scholar by the name of Haypasia, you question if he is worth the trouble of loving.

“Scaramouche, it’s been only 2 days after your most recent visit to Haypasia, would it be possible to ask you of one thing?”

He merely scoffs, dismissing the idea of resting, if it meant showing affection to his most devoted follower.

It is a true wonder you haven’t left him yet, despite how inconsiderate he is towards your personal feelings.

If it isn’t you, then it won’t be at all, I won’t hope for us anymore.

The Doctor offered you revenge, wealth, and power, all you had to do was to betray Kunikuzushi.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to put him in a much more dire situation, thus you decline.

Yet do you truly feel this way about him?

“You never truly cared for me, Haypasia has been showing her dedication and devotion to me ever since she made contact with her new-found God.” 

Scaramouche seethes, venom spilling from his mouth

“If I were you, I’d do exactly as Haypasia, in hopes to win over my companion again.”

I’m shivering and I can’t move, my heart can’t force myself to love you anymore.

It proves true that the snow-ridden land of Snezhnaya is not suit to your tastes,

but if it means staying as far away as humanly possible from Scaramouche, you’d go through whatever length to ensure his happiness.

For Haypasia's happiness too, yet not yours.

If the frostbite and cold doesn’t take you, then may the fake god abrew in Sumeru take your life.

You once believed that you would take any step toward a brighter future for you and Kunikuzushi, but it seems near impossible to achieve that, if he is in the glory of another.

Do you truly love him now?

If it won’t be us in the end, I’ll stop myself from loving someone else.

“I vow to stay by your side for eternity, let the damned wake, and let the souls who mourn, do so with agony. I will shield you from the world and all it’s cruelty.” —yet you, who makes such sacrilegious promises, only to succumb to sheer cold, and a slight pang of jealousy toward his “first” follower.

If you couldn’t love another, you might as well die with the vows you’ve made to each other.

That way, when he succeeds in entering godhood, he won’t remember you anymore.

But if I don’t remember who we were, who’ll cry in the morn for us?

Before setting foot into Sumeru, you haven’t even heard of Irminsul.

Much less known that Irminsul contains the memories of everyone, which holds little to no regard from Scaramouche, until he caught wind of what recently happened after his downfall.

“They have been pronounced dead. I believe you have no use for them anyway, since Haypasia is your one and only follower, am I correct?”

Il Dottore, 2nd of the Harbingers, announcing your death to the former Harbinger has his mouth agape and speechless.

He descended into madness, believing that it was all his fault, his status, his arrogance, and his vile nature that caused your death.

Shortly after his defeat, he was assigned to carry out a task for Lesser Lord Kusanali and the Traveler.

Enter Irminsul and attempt to find more information on the Descenders of Teyvat. In his subconscious, his new-found information on the erasure of existence from the Traveler has his full attention. Perhaps, if he never met you, if he never tainted his self-image, you could live happily together with him in his next life. With the knowledge of Irminsul, he begins infiltrating its memories in hopes to have his soul reborn into your arms again. I’m letting go, since I can’t move anymore. But would I stop your heart to yearn for another? He succeeded in erasing The Balladeer’s existence of this world, but it was in vain. You couldn’t hang on to the tiny bit of life you have anymore, and withered away from his grasp. In all the years of his life, he has never experienced such grief in his life. His mind, though hazy, tries to cling on to what little memory he has of you in the back of his mind. Kunikuzushi was impressed to say the least, you really did love him, even if he wouldn’t love you anymore. At the cost of the recognition as a God, the price would be his only source of hope and warmth. “Until the end of our time,  until our hearts feel nothing anymore, even if forever ends, I’ll wait for you in the name of love.” - A/N: i wish that i too, can be erased by irminsul. that sucks. Stay safe, keep yourself hydrated, and continue on treading your path in life, with hopes of success. Believe in yourself, and stay positive. <3 -1, Yuan

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin angst #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scara angst #scaramouche angst #wanderer #scaramouche #wanderer x reader #wanderer angst #genshin imagines #bring back the cold season #ITS SO HOT HERE

[dimitrscu]

it actually baffles me that people think malenia was romantically involved with either gowry, a man who isn’t even really a man but rather a rot pest and not to mention a person she has never met. or maleigh marais, a guy who is obsessed with her and quite literally has a shrine to her in his dining room with a massive portrait and several prosthetic arms and legs adorning the walls. like the guy is a loser and likes to jerk off over her old prosthesis. i feel like when we hand it to millicent she’s going to asks why it’s all sticky

#she didn’t give birth to the girls they spawned from the rot after she bloomed #as far as we know she doesn’t even know they exist #honestly why is it such a hard concept to understand #people just really like the idea of malenia fucking that old shrimp guy i guess #and not once but 5 times according to them #‘well i’m the one who found her’ he says about millicent #'a mer babe in the swamp' #or something like that #which is an odd way of saying yes i’m her father and i made her #do these people think malenia went to war and was like hang on a sec i need to go quickly get pregnant and birth 5 kids and then ditch them #‘i am of malenia’s blood but in what capacity i know not’ #‘i could be sister; daughter; or simply an offshoot’ #(paraphrasing there a bit but it’s something along those lines) #millicents dialogue that seems to go over their heads #they have no trouble twisting the part about the pride and dignity bit but obviously switch off for the rest of what she says

[juliettedunn]

Nimona and the Myth of the Perfect Victim

Nimona is great at showcasing why “If you didn’t act so threatening people would stop being bigoted” doesn’t work. That idea has been rampant in social movements for so long, the concept that if oppressed people were just more passive with their wording, and never got angry or defensive, people wouldn’t have reason to oppress them.

When the village attacks her, Nimona doesn’t initially fight back, but tries to explain to them, showing them her “acceptable” form as a young girl.

But they don’t care that Nimona looks acceptable, they still know her for a shapeshifter and attack anyway. Then, when Nimona fights back with fangs and claws, Gloreth becomes convinced she is indeed a monster. Never mind the context of the provocation, Nimona looked scary, so is now a monster.

Far in the future, Nimona now doesn’t worry about looking respectable. Ballister tells them they should look like a girl, because it would be easier for to be accepted.

To many people, this would be valid reasoning - if Nimona assumes a non-threatening form, no one will be scared. But Nimona knows this isn’t true. If people catch sight of the shapeshifting even for a moment, it won’t matter that Nimona takes the form of a sweet, innocent girl. They will attack anyway.

And staying as a girl forever, never letting them see, is something she doesn’t see as an option. Other people might see it that way, that it is better to forever rigidly conceal their identity so they never once face any hatred, but as Nimona says, while it’s not true death, it sure isn’t living.

Earlier, Ballister was caught destroying the prison with Nimona, adding fuel to the idea of him as a villain, which he blames her for. But he was labeled as one anyway. Had Nimona not gotten him to wreak havoc, he would have remained in prison and never seen as innocent.

While Ballister initially believes that Nimona is ridiculous to dramatically break standards of acceptability, he realizes that some people won’t accept Nimona even if she is “the perfect victim.”

We see this in real life, where even someone who is the epitome of moral decency will still eventually be targeted. Illusions to the contrary are disproven.

Of course the city screams and runs when Nimona transforms into a giant creature, but they screamed and ran when he turned into non-threatening creatures as well. So Nimona is driven to view it as not mattering which she does. Of course, in the end she chooses to help them anyway, and calm herself from her giant form, because Ballister shows her recognition while she is in it.

Ballister sees her in her most terrifying form and recognizes she is lashing out from fear and anger at the treatment she received. He doesn’t demand she stop and be more respectable, he sees them as they truly are and shows them understanding, and that is what calms Nimona down.

There is no perfect victim. Everyone is messy and flawed and will lash out. If there were a perfect victim, it wouldn’t matter anyway. A perfect victim is one who never dares raise an arm against attack, even out of desperate self defense. Nimona would be a perfect victim if she had laid down and succumbed to the pitchforks. Ballister would be a perfect victim if he sat in prison to rot.

A “perfect victim” will always die before being being recognized as such, because the only true acceptable way for a marginalized person to exist is to be dead.

#nimona #nimona movie #ballister boldheart #nimona spoilers

[chaoticbardlady99]

Pinkie Promise? (Astarion x F! reader) MDNI 18+

Author note- this is specifically for @spitfireunhinged who wrote a beautiful little post with a concept that I adored. I hope I did it justice and you enjoy!

CW- NSFW, mentions of SA

Synopsis- You tell Astarion that you don’t think sex is as good as people say it is. Astarion is determined to prove you wrong.

*not my pic. Please let me know if it is yours so I can give credit

I rewrote this like 7 times. This draft is lightly edited, but I couldn’t wait to post it!

Part 2: I Triple Dog Dare You

Astarion had heard the phrase “pinky promise” before. It was usually between Leon and Victoria before Leon left for a hunt. She always made Leon pinkie promise that he would come home and Leon always swore it- his pinkie hooked with hers.

The whole thing made Astarion vomit, but he thought it was just a “them” thing since he had never heard it before.

Then you used it on him and he had hurt your feelings terribly. He had called you a child and then proceeded to mock you.

You had just smiled at him sweetly like you usually do, apologized for invading his space, and for crossing his boundaries.

When Astarion had come by an hour or two later to drop off a book he ‘borrowed’ (it was his book, but he wanted an excuse to talk to you again), he heard you sniffling and asking Karlach if you were a child. You were so upset by his judgment because you like him as a person and thought the two of you were friends. Karlach said that some people just aren’t capable of being nice.

Astarion found you after Karlach went to sleep and pinkie promised to never call you a child again (and that he doesn’t think you are a child).

Suddenly, it was your thing and it slowly became more enduring as time went on. A part of him was envious if Karlach or Gale offered you the gesture first and you would give them one of your breathtaking smiles. He wishes he could initiate it, but it feels far too intimate to him. Asking someone to promise him something? Perish the thought! No one can truly be trusted. Well- maybe you can be trusted.

Astarion doesn’t know when he became so infatuated with you and your existence. Maybe it was that first night at camp when the two of you got to know each other a little bit better. You hadn’t been able to sleep because you were struggling to adjust to the new environment. You asked him lots of questions that he honestly had struggled to answer, but you were actually interested in him- not just his body.

Astarion was beginning to crave your presence and he despised sharing it with anyone else. One time he even went as far as making you pinkie promise you wouldn’t kiss Gale when he had called you over. You had scoffed and said that is ridiculous because “Gale would not kiss you ever, yuck!” , but did it anyway.

Low and behold- Gale did not get his kiss. He’s tried since, but you have rejected his advances. Astarion likes to think it’s because you like him more- want him more.

So maybe that’s why he was quick to drag you away from the Tiefling party after you had made your rounds- not wanting to watch you be with another person a second longer. You let him take your hand and you giggle as he chastises you for taking so long to talk to everyone else.

“How dare my self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ spend so much time not in my presence!” Astarion melodramatically states, “I am hurt, Darling. I thought we had something special.”

You blow air out of your mouth with an eye roll and smile at him.

“Well of course we do,” you say matter of factly, “but I also knew the minute I went to talk to you that I wouldn’t talk to anyone else.

“I’m the fearless leader!” You say with emphasis, “Leader of the Freakshow- welcome one and all to the most traumatized individuals alive!”

Astarion’s chest bursts with laughter, “how very on the nose of you, my Dear.”

“I must keep all of us humble, my Sweet,” you say boldly.

He tsks at you and twirls you around, “I’m afraid you aren’t allowed to steal my lines- that is going to cost you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Certainly.”

“Name your price.”

Astarion pauses- right now doesn’t feel like the moment to go full throttle. He has more work to do.

“I need time to think,” he says lewdly, “there are so many things I could ask for, after all.”

You hum in agreement and smile at him coyly.

Maybe it’s because you are the first person he has actively sought out since he has been released from Cazador’s grasp.

Astarion guides you to a spot in the meadow he had found earlier. Well- actually he had followed Gale to it earlier- Astarion just found an even better spot like 10 yards away.

Gale had stupidly announced to Wyll around the campfire that he was going to ask to spend time with you alone tonight.

There was immediately not a chance in hells that that was going to happen. Gale found a nice spot in the forest- Astarion found a better one. Gale brought a blanket and wine? Pfft, Astarion can do that.

You stop in front of the blanket and wine before you look at him- a nice blush running up your neck.

“Is this for-?” You seem surprised.

Which Astarion finds very interesting considering you are from Noble society- shouldn’t you be used to being courted? Astarion is almost certain you’d have at least a hundred suitors.

“For you?” He smiles charmingly, “well of course, only the best for you, my Dear.”

You duck your head and you blush even harder. Astarion guides you to sit with him. You both drink the wine and talk. You ask him questions about himself and he asks plenty about you.

Astarion isn’t sure when the conversation turns into talking about sex- that had always been the original intention of the conversation.

“Sex can’t possibly be all that great.”

“Pardon?”

You shrug your shoulders and slightly slur the sentence again with emphasis.

“Sex can’t possibly be all that great.”

Astarion is shocked to his core. You flirt back and forth with him as if you’ve bedded at least a couple men.

“You’ve never?”

“No.”

“How?”

You look at him with a puzzled expression. You are staring at him as if he’s grown a second head.

Hypocrite. You’re the one spewing none sense!

“How?” You state incredulously, “you have looked at me right?”

Oh yes and I’ve imagined fucking you until you are screaming my name, but that’s beside the point I suppose.

“I’m nothing much to look at. I’m always the friend- never the girlfriend or the lover or whatever!” You emphasize with your hands, “no one has ever felt that way about me and if they have- they’ve never gone for it so I assume it’s just not that much fun.”

Astarion feels like he’s dying all over again. That was your assumption? Not that you might be horrifically oblivious because he’s only tried to to get in your chance several times. One time he quite literally asked you to come to his bed that night and you showed up with a book.

“Darling,” Astarion’s exasperation obvious, “I’ve been trying to have sex with you for a couple weeks now. Probably even more than that at this point.”

You stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

“You,” you stammer, “you want to? With me? No way.”

You laugh nervously, “you are beautiful and intelligent and-“

“No, no way.”

Astarion raises an eyebrow at you and smiles seductively. Your lips part slightly as he pushes you on your back and parts your legs with his knee.

Your arms automatically wrap around his neck- your pupils blown wide with lust. Astarion kisses to the left and right of your lips- grinning when he hears your huff in frustration.

“You sure do keen a lot for someone who doesn’t think sex could possibly be ‘that good’, Darling,” Astarion coos, you tighten your lips in embarrassment.

Astarion rolls his eyes at you and cups your face while putting his thumb in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You hum with pleasure and peer at him through hooded eye lids. Astarion feels his cock strain against his pants

“So, my Dear,” Astarion drawls, “do you want me to fuck you? Would you like to see all the bliss you are missing out on?”

You nod eagerly and Astarion presses his thigh against your growing heat. You whine around his thumb and you run your tongue against his skin.

Fuck.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” He asks hotly.

You nod- Astarion can smell your arousal and feel it seeping through both of your pants.

“Pinkie promise?” He says teasingly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth to hold out his pinkie.

You hook your pinkie with his and whisper, “pinkie promise.”

Astarion pulls you in for a mind numbing kiss- caressing your lips with his until you are keeping up with his pace. He feels your arms around his neck pull him in deeper.

Your kiss against his lips is sweet and intoxicating- for a second he completely forgets about the purpose of the evening. Astarion could sit here and just kiss you like this until the sun comes up.

Your breathing hitches and Astarion watches as you desperately try to find release by riding his thigh- your movements erratic and wanting. The sounds you are making fill him with excitement and for the first time in a while- he’s actually eager to be inside someone.

He realizes your moaning has become muffled all of a sudden and he looks up to find you covering your mouth- your cheeks and ears are bright red while you pant with arousal.

Astarion laces his fingers through yours and holds your hands down on either side of your head- your pupils are blown wide from lust. The galloping of your heart is like music to his ears.

“Oh no,” he whispers seductively, “do not keep those delicious moans of yours from me, Darling. You promised to be good, remember?”

“Y-yes,” you say between heavy breaths- this time you are the one to surprise him by closing the space between the two of you with a needy kiss.

Astarion unlaces his fingers from yours as he begins unlacing your trousers- quickly discarding them to reveal your soaked underclothes. He growls involuntarily as the smell of your arousal hits the back of his throat- you smell incredible.

Astarion could leave it at just taking your pants off for now, but Gods does he want to see more and if you are willing to let him, then he is not going to deny himself the pleasure of being able to touch and kiss every inch of your body.

Your shirt is next and you don’t even fight it- helping him get the article of clothing off and helping him discard his shirt as well. Astarion stops and looks down upon your naked form.

“Gods you are exquisite,” Astarion says as he begins to kiss down your naval, “open your legs for me, Darling.”

He leaves tiny love bites as he goes- wanting to make sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to. You are a whimpering mess underneath his touch as he presses his fingers to your clothed clit- teasing you slowly.

“Asta-“

You are cut off by your own sounds of pleasure leaving your throat as he slips your underwear off- slowly pushing one finger into you while playing with your clit using his tongue. A string of curse words leaves your mouth as he begins to pick up the pace with his fingers and basks in the way pleasure looks on your face, how your body is writhing for him, and the tumbling praises for him echo through the clearing.

He rolls your sensitive nub between his teeth and he has to hold your hips down as you keen underneath his touch. Astarion adds a second finger- still meeting some resistance, but you aren’t stopping him, in fact- you are giving him complete access using your tadpole right now (intentionally or not) and he can feel how desperate you are to feel fuller. Then he adds the second fingers and the euphoria that rings through your body goes straight to his groan. Astarion can feel his cock straining against his pants as he brings you over the edge with his fingers and mouth- your sweet pleasure dripping down his chin and his fingers. He languidly cleans his fingers off with his mouth, humming in delight while making eye contact with you.

Your eyes are half lidded and glassy- your mouth is slightly parted open. He leans forward and leaves a chaste kiss on them and begins unlacing his own pants- slipping them off and throwing them to the side- his underwear quickly following.

Astarion lines himself up with your entrance- your orgasm coating the head of his cock and he has to fight the urge to slam into you right away. He lines himself up with your entrance- teasing you. You look more nervous now than lustful and Astarion feels his gaze soften. He hovers over you and caresses the side of your face with his thumb. The last thing he wants is to start with you in the wrong headspace.

"Wrap your legs around my waist."

You obediently comply- your back slightly arching and your pert nipples are touching his chest. You sigh in arousal at the contact.

“This may hurt a little,” he says, “we can stop whenever or however much you need- we can stop completely and try again another time even.

“But do you want me to continue?”

You smile up at him with relief and nod coyly.

“I trust you, but please go slow,” you whisper.

Astarion feels a tightness in his chest when you look up at him. Your eyes are so vulnerable and of all the people you’ve decided to trust you chose him. Astarion is fighting not to dissociate- wanting to give you his full attention.

Astarion slowly begins to push inside you. You cry out and clutch at his shoulders- taking a sharp breath as he slowly sheaths himself inside you. Astarion has to fight the want- no need to go faster- you are so damn tight and Astarion is almost wondering if he should have done more foreplay.

He rocks in and out of you- making sure to check on your facial expressions. There are tears pricking your eyes, but your look of discomfort is becoming more and more euphoric as he keeps rolling his hips into you gently.

“Hells darling,” Astarion manages to moan out through clenched teeth, “you feel so fucking good.”

You whimper at his praise and Astarion lifts you up by the hips so he can get a better angle. He thrusts a minuscule harder this time and the whimper that leaves your mouth is making him feel positively feral.

“Astarion,” you whine, “ple- please I need more.”

You definitely don’t have to tell him twice. Astarion snaps himself up into you at a faster pass- your keening only encouraging him to go faster- both of you moaning and gasping while clawing at each other. For the first time in the last 200 years- Astarion does not want to stop. Despite the feelings that are always there, this may be the only time he’s actually experienced bliss while being with someone.

"Such a good little pup, aren't you?"

You clench around him at his words, you beg him to fuck you harder, and he drops your hips back to the ground before putting his face into the crook of your neck- kissing and praising you as you ride out your high.

“You were such a good girl for me,” he breathes into your air, “thank you.”

Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging his lips to yours. If he needed air, the kiss would have suffocated him from how intense and wanting it was- the air between the both of you feels alive and Astarion barely registers that he’s finishing inside you until he’s collapsed on top of you- his head resting on your chest as it races in time with your breathing.

“That was amazing,” you say breathlessly and Astarion can’t help but laugh.

“I told you so.”

You plafully slap his arm and laugh- the sound filling his body with comfort. He can hear your heart beat begin to slow down and your breathing becomes deeper.

“Thank you Astarion,” you say sleepily, dozing off with your hands teasing his curls, “not just for this- for everything. I feel worth something when I’m with you.”

You yawn and Astarion tries to focus on the sound instead of the twisting guilt in his stomach. He cares for you too and that might be where he fucked up.

Your breathing quickly evens out and he is drowning in the smell of sex and rose water- a scent he heavily associates with you. Astarion stays there with his head on top of your chest- trying to get his bearings together. That was like no other sexual encounter he has experienced before- it was blissful- so why the hell is he about to have the melt down of the century?

“Shit,” you jolt awake, accidentally pushing Astarion off you- your eyes are still glassy “sorry I should probably not just fall asleep here- I’m sure you want to get back to your tent…”

Astarion pulls you back down and against his chest as if it’s exactly where you belong. The idea of you leaving right now makes his soul twist painfully. No, he needs you to stay. Existing is easier with you around- it has been since he met you on the beach.

“Stay,” he whispers, “please.”

There is a pause and he worries he may have overstepped his bounds. You look up at him with sleepy, kind eyes. If peace were to have a face- it would be yours.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” You smile at him sweetly.

The word leaves his mouth before he can stop himself, “pinkie promise?”

You give him the biggest, toothiest grin he has ever seen. Astarion is certain you may be the single most beautiful person he’s ever met.

You take his pinky in yours and then place a soft kiss against his cold lips.

As you pull away, you whisper against his mouth, “I pinky promise.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #karlach #bg3 #astarion acunin #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav

[cherry-leclerc]

the red high heels ☆ cs55

genre: humor, secret relationship, leclerc!twins

word count: 1.9k

It's 2am and Charles is desperate to find you. Who better to help look for you than his teammate?

req... guys, i literally wrote different versions of this request at least 5 times...anyways, hope you enjoy a quick one :)

Groaning, Carlos stands up from his bed, making his way to the door. It’s 2 am and he was far too comfortable until he was rudely interrupted. Opening the door, he sees a despaired Charles, dark under eyes evident. “Charles? Are you okay, man?” His voice is raw and croaky almost. His teammate shakes his head, then nods.

“Fuck, it’s just that…my sister. Mate, I don’t know where she is.” Hearing this, the Spaniard narrows his eyes, all of a sudden awake. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” 

“Well, I checked her room, I called her and nothing. We’re supposed to be leaving for the airport in an hour!” 

Carlos stays still for a moment. “Okay, I’ll help you look for her, she can’t be too far out. She’s not like that.” The Monegasque nods slowly before beginning to slump his way into the room. Carlos sprints after him.

“Oh! Um…How about you wait outside? It’s just that the room is so messy.” Turning his gaze, he points to the spotless room. Charles frowns. 

“Carlos, this has got to be the cleanest room I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” He scrunches his nose before waving his hands in his teammates direction. “Hurry and put on a shirt so we can leave.” With tight lips, he nods. He’s slow about it too, the way he makes his way to his suitcase. Opening it, it’s empty. He slightly curses himself for being too much of a neat freak that he just had to organize his clothes into the small closet. “Some girl kept your shirt?” Charles' smile is teasing as he sends over a playful wink. Carlos winces.

“Of course not! Just have to…” He points over to the closet that is on the other side of the room. He pats his face. “You know what? I think I’m going to put my shoes on first! I’ll be quick, if you want we can meet outside.” 

“It’s no big deal. I can wait. I mean you are helping me after all.” The brown eyed man wants to yell when a kind smile tugs at Charles’ lips. Get out, get out, get outttt. 

“Of course.” Leaning down to grab his Golden Goose under the bed he takes a deep breath. His heart is beating so fast, he thinks it might leap out of his chest. Charles is talking, but all is unclear as Carlos reaches down. He quickly relaxes when he finds his shoes. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Oh no. Is your age getting the best out of you?” Charles snickers as Carlos grunts before sitting beside him, slipping on his shoes ever so slowly. Charles is growing impatient, he could tell. This was good.

“So, um, where do you think she is?” Carlos questions as he unties his other shoe. Charles hums.

“You know what? I have a feeling she’s not that far…Twin telepathy.” The broody man rolls his eyes as Charles shares a thoughtful glance. He laughs. “Call it what you want, but that shit exists.” 

“I bet.”

The green eyed boy furrows his brows at Carlos’ clumsy fingers playing with his laces. He desperately huffs. “Do you need help or something?”

“Almost got it…” The white strings become undone for what seems the millionth time before he finally gets the grips of it. Bravo, Charles mutters. 

“Coming back to what you were saying, what do you mean by twin telepathy?” Carlos stands up making his way to his empty suitcase again but Charles doesn’t even seem to notice as he becomes entertained by his bracelets. 

“Oh, well, it’s real. I feel like she can’t be that far. How else do you think I would win at tag when we were younger?” He raises an eyebrow over his teammate. He continues with a now moody face. “Though, something else tells me she’s with someone, y’know?” Carlos chokes as he turns to face Charles. I don’t, he squeaks out. “It’s just that I’ve had this feeling that she might be seeing someone from the grid. I told her not to and she said she would never, but I don’t know why I could never really believe her. Plus, she’s oddly been attached to her phone a tad bit too much.”

Just then Carlos’ phone rings. They both shoot their eyes to the bright light that shines in the middle of the messy bed sheets. Reaching out, Charles grabs it before handing it over. You should probably answer. Hastily, he takes it. 

Get. Him. Out.

He coughs as he slips his phone into his back pocket. “Hey, why don’t you start looking for her without me? I swear I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I don’t know where else to look, I’ve tried everywhere! Just hurry so we can brainstorm ideas. I swear to God when I find her-” A light thud echoes the small room as he cocks his head to the side in attentiveness. He raises his hand to his ear. “Did you hear that?”

The Spaniard immediately goes to rub his elbow. “I just hit my arm, that’s all.” 

“Be careful, mate.” He stands up. “Okay grab your shirt.”

“Mierda. I can’t find it.” But that's a lie because just a couple of feet behind Charles, it lies. Right next to a pair of red heels. Charles' eyes roam the room with a slightly annoyed expression before spotting it. Picking it up, he pauses. When he turns around he wears a toothy grin.

“Oh shit! You have a girl over! That’s why you went all shy!” He picks up the heel. “That’s crazy. Looks just like my sisters. Girls just have the same taste these days…”

Carlos quickly grabs the shirt from him before snatching the heel back too. “I-I didn’t–I mean I did, but she left! She must have forgotten her sh–” The words tumble past his lips so fast that he doesn’t notice how Charles’ expression has dropped.

The red high heel could have been anyones, true, but not everyone had your initials at the bottom. He knows since he was the one who had gifted them to you as a birthday present. You had begged for months.

“Hope you shut up now that you have them,” he says as you smile down at the designer heels. You nod happily. 

“I promise I’ll take care of them, Charlie! So sweet, I mean, you even added a nice detail!”

He’s fuming, but he’s also confused. “You motherfucker–”

“It’s just a shoe, mate!” Carlos' voice cracks in nervousness as his teammate strolls his way over. The Monegasque quickly grabs Carlos’ collared shirt as he pushes him against the closet. His body thuds as he groans. 

“Where’s my sister?” His harsh glare doesn’t equal his tone and that scares Carlos just a tiny…lot. 

“I don’t know! Let’s go look for her!” He tries to pry Charles’ hands off, but this only makes him push him back against the wood, harder. He cringes.

“Stop lying.” When Carlos looks down and doesn’t respond, he doesn’t think twice as he starts to bang his body against the brown doors. It shakes so much that the closet starts to get slightly unbalanced. And then…

It tips over.

Reacting quickly, Charles swiftly pulls Carlos away as they both fall onto the floor. The closet falls with a loud thud as they both gasp. But Carlos is quick to try to lift it up. “Calm down, it’s just a closet-”

“Fuck you, your sister is inside!”

Charles’ eyes go wide as he runs over to help his teammate. Finally, once it’s stood up correctly, they open the doors in a hurry. You moan as you rub your head.

“You both are so fucking innsufferable.” Your eyes are screwed shut when you reach your arm out for help. Your boyfriend is about to help you but your brother beats him to it. He leads you to the bed as you curl into a ball. “Oh God, I think I have a concussion.”

“We should take her to the hospital,” Carlos says as Charles bites down onto his nails. He agrees. They care, of course they do, but they’re not smooth about it.

“You grab her head and I’ll grab her legs.” Charles instructs as Carlos nods. 

“No!” You sit up straight as you crawl further away from them. “I’m fine.” 

“Amor, you should get checked out-”

“I don’t like that nickname. Stop it.” Charles mutters as he crosses his arms. You ignore him.

“Seriously, I’m fine. All your clothes saved me.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh as you giggle. Charles can’t help but glare at both of you.

“Okay, since you’re feeling well, then we should leave. Now.” 

“No.”

His gaze sharpens as you cuddle your legs to your chest. “Stop being a brat. Let’s go.” He reaches out for you but you only kick his arms away. I’ll leave with Carlos, you bicker back. “Just shut up. Let’s. Go.” He reaches out to grab your legs as he starts to drag you towards him, but you’re kicking and screaming so loud that he lets go to cover his ears. He almost loses it when you run over to Carlos as you hug him like your favorite teddy bear.

“You can go. I want to leave with Carlos.”

He clicks his tongue as he places his hands on his hips. He taps his shoe. “Listen, say goodbye or whatever you want, but you are not going anywhere with him.” You shake your head. Carlos sighs as he places a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think he’s right.” 

I don’t need your help controlling my sister, Charles wants to warn him but he doesn’t when he notices you deflate, furthermore. “No, I want to stay with you. I can deal with him later.” The Spaniard unties your hands from his waist before he leans down to place a kiss on your cheek.

“No, you should listen to your brother.” You know he isn’t breaking up with you, but perhaps a bang to the head has you slightly sensitive. Tears slowly fill up your eyes.

“Do you not want me anymore?” Your voice is small and he wants to punch himself for causing so much confusion. He’s about to say, you know I always do, but decides not to answer when he looks up at Charles, who stands by quietly.

“I…”

Charles awkwardly clears his throat as he twists his heel. You muster up the dirtiest stare possible as you say, “What do you want now?” He winces at your tone as he exhales in defeat.

“You can stay.” You narrow your eyes as you let out a wobbly smile. Are you serious? He nods as Carlos smiles at him in thankfulness. “But we spoke about this so many times, didn’t we? I always warned you that relationships like this take lots of taking care of, that's the main reason why I was always so against it, never because I didn’t want to see you happy.” His eyes flicker to Carlos, who’s attention remains on you. 

“I know that, but I don’t care. I’m willing to learn.”

“I know you are. And you.” He points sharply at the Spaniard. “I can’t believe you went behind my back! That’s my sister!” Calm down, you plead. “You know what, we’re twins, so I hope you think of me when you kiss her-”

The room goes silent as you stare back with wide eyes. Once a single giggle is let out, a string only follows as you hurl over laughing. “That’s so wrong!” Charles blushes.

“Forget I said anything, just…Be careful and treat her right.”

Carlos bobs his head as he hugs you from behind and you lean into his touch with a glow Charles has never seen on you. 

“I swear to God I will always do that.”

#carlos sainz drabble #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine

[jazzyoranges]

Harleys in Hawaii

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you’re Tara’s older girlfriend

Words: 4.5k

A/n: listen to harleys in hawaii

Warnings: i didn’t feel like editing or spell checking sorry bout that 💀, age gap (Tara is 22/23, you’re 27), drinking, kissing, fade to black sex, R is implied to dress more masculine, also Scream 6 doesn’t exist cause Anika is alive 😇

Tara has gone through 3 girlfriends and 5 boyfriends in the span of 5 months. Currently, she’s having an intervention on how and why. Well, the core four’s version of an intervention at least

“Dude, you have to teach me how to get a girlfriend” Chad begs, and Mindy laughs

“Why am I even here? You guys suck at interventions. If anything, this is the opposite of one”

This time, her sister chimes in. “We’re here because you’ve been going through partners like pairs of clothes. Why are you dating all these people?”

“I don’t know!” Tara groans “In the beginning it’s to be fun dating someone, but after a week it feels like a chore”

“Wow, never knew you of all people would have the same mindset of a frat boy” This earns Mindy a slap on her shoulder from Anika, who was cuddled into her

“Shut up Mindy.” the younger Carpenter spits out

“So you date people and drop them ‘cause they don’t give you the thrill of being in a relationship?” Chad says and everyone in the room goes silent. Momentarily, he stops throwing his tennis ball up in the air

“…Did I say something wrong?”

“Never knew you could be smart, Chad”

“Sometimes I wish we weren’t related.”

“Is that it, Tara?” Sam asks “You just want the thrill of dating?”

“When you put it that way, I guess? I dunno, I haven’t really met anyone exciting. You’d think there’d be fun people in New York”

“You just haven’t met the right person, Tara. I’m sure there’s someone for you, you just suck at looking”

“Oh, really? Where am I supposed to look, then?”

“I dunno, definitely not where you’re looking right now” Mindy shrugs, and Tara sighs at how helpful her friends are

—

You meet you coworker’s sister when her and her friends decide to have a study session at the small coffee shop you and Sam work at. You and the older Carpenter instantly clicked as friends. Sam knew you knew about the Woodsboro killings, but you knew not to trust the media entirely. After a few weeks of talking to her, you didn’t understand how Sam could be accused of such disgusting things

Your friendship solidified when you ‘accidentally’ spilled an ice cream sundae on some girl who was being mean to her. Of course you were fired the next day, but Sam left with you, opting to work at a smaller coffee shop run by a nice old man and his lovely wife

Sam considered you a good friend, and she trusted you with being around her sister. Luckily the old couple who ran the shop were kind and trusting, and let Sam’s sister and friends use the coffee shop after hours for late-night studying. It was maybe about 6:30pm when the shop officially closed, and the study session started. Sam insisted she stay by herself, but you didn’t want her to be lonely while watching her kids friends study

Personally, you thought it was far too late to study, but you also hadn’t been to school in 3 years. Soft music was playing while the group studied and you and Sam cleaned up the shop here and there

Tara tried to focus on her work, she really did. After a few glances in your direction and many “sorry, what did you say?”’s later, Mindy finally decided to comment on Tara’s behavior. I mean, could she really be mad? You were breathtaking. Your shirt hugged your arms and torso just the right way, you hand a very pretty face, most of all, you were-

“Alright, what’s up with you? You’ve been distracted this entire time”

“I’m not distracted, I’m listening” Tara lied straight through her teeth, and Mindy just looked at her in suspicion

“You’ve seemed out of it this entire study session, you okay?” Anika reached to rub Tara’s shoulder

“Uh, y-yeah” Tara turned around in her seat looking for you. When she saw you were either in the break room or the bathroom, Tara leaned in closer to the group and so did her friends

“Sam’s friend is really hot.”

“Understandable” Chad nods

“Definitely ask her out”

“Like hell I am, Mindy!” Tara whisper-shouts

You’re about to leave for the night. Gathering your jacket, helmet, and keys from your locker, you barely make it out of the break room before one of Sam’s friends calls you over

“Hey, Sam’s coworker! Are you good at algebra?

“A little above average, why do you ask? You walk over to the booth they’re studying at. You miss the glare the brunette gives to her friend

Mindy motions to Tara “My friend over here is having a little trouble, and we’re all not really good at explaining. Could you help her?”

“Also,” the twin points at each of her friends “Anika, Chad, Tara, and I’m Mindy”

You pull up a chair to sit next to Tara “Y/N, nice to meet all of you. Sam says lots of good things”

“Likewise, Sam told us about what you did for her. We all appreciate it” Anika smiles

“Those girls were assholes,” you shrug “they deserved it.” Now focusing on Tara, you met her eyes while the rest of the group fell into discussion

“So, what exactly do you need help with?”

Tara tries to listen to what you’re saying, but everything is going in one ear and out the other with your proximity to her. You make simple small talk with Tara, and she notes how the corners of your eyes crinkle when you laugh. The brunette learns you’re about the same age as her sister, you have a second job as a mechanic, and you owned a motorcycle (in which her interest was immediately peaked).

A few hours of conversation and studying later, the group decides they’re finished. They pile into Sam’s car to be dropped off at their respective apartments. Unfortunately due to a little clutter, there isn’t enough room for Tara in the car (which is surprising since she’s incredibly small, but you decide to hold your tongue this time)

“Cmon, guys, can’t you make some room?” the brunette groans

“You could ride with Y/n,” Sam suggests “I trust her to get you home”

“Yeah, I got an extra helmet in my locker, I’ll go get it” You jog back to the shop, and you’re back a minute later with a helmet in one hand, and a hoodie in the other. Your hoodie, Tara thinks

“Here, it gets cold. Is this your first time?”

“Yeah, I’ve never been on a motorcycle before…” Tara says nervously, and she has to stop herself from taking a big whiff of your hoodie around her

“No worries! If you get scared just squeeze my thigh and I’ll pull over, okay? Also, make sure to hold on tight” You put the helmet on Tara, inspecting her to make sure it’s on correctly

“Geez, it feels like I’m an astronaut” Tara laughs, flipping up the visor

“Doesn’t it? I always feel like a bobble head or something when I’m in it” You teach Tara how to get on, and soon enough you’re on the road following Sam’s car

Tara’s arms were snugly wrapped around your torso, and she was absolutely having the time of her life. The helmet she was wearing smelled like you and it was absolutely intoxicating. Not to mention how your hoodie sat comfortably on her body — almost like it was meant for her to wear. Deciding to be bold, Tara decides to hug you tighter

When you two eventually stop at a stoplight, you hold out a thumbs up, questioning if Tara is comfortable. The brunette responds with a thumbs up of her own, and the slow circles she’s making with her thumb under your shirt that leave a trail of goosebumps behind

First Sam stops at Mindy and Anika’s, then Chads. Since there’s more room in the car Tara doesn’t actually need to stay with you, but she’s practically glued to your back. The brunette decides to be greedy and hold on

A few minutes later, you two reach Tara and Sam’s apartment complex. When you come to a stop the younger Carpenter gets off first, and you follow after

“So, how was your first time on a motorcycle? Scary?”

“Honestly? Not really. I trust you won’t crash, or else Sam’ll get real mad at you” Taking off her helmet, you get the pleasure of seeing Tara smile again. She starts to take off your hoodie, but you stop her before she does

“Keep it, I already have a bunch of other hoodies and jackets at my place”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t sure, Carpenter”

“You’re an ass” Tara rolls her eyes and playfully hits your arm

“Nice meeting you and your friends, by the way. I’ll see you guys around” After you wave bye and hop back on your motorcycle Tara watches you leave, pulling your hoodie closer to her body

—

Study sessions at the coffee shop after closing time became more and more regular. Sometimes it’s just Sam closing up, and other times it’s just you. Tara still regrets telling the group about her very tiny minuscule crush on you, since you’re now used as blackmail to get Tara to go anywhere

“Wanna go to the movies?”

“Sorry, I have to finish an essay”

“Y/n’s gonna be there” Mindy says in a sing-song tone

“Fuck you.” Tara groans before grabbing her jacket, fully expecting to be invited for a motorcycle ride from you

At first Tara only saw you during study sessions at the coffee shop. It was the same story almost every time. There wouldn’t be enough room in Sam’s car, you’d drive Tara home, and if she was lucky you’d stop at a 7 Eleven for slushees and a snack

When Sam invites you to a game night with the group, you happily accept the invitation. With a bottle of wine in your left hand, you make some final adjustments to your outfit before knocking. Smoothing out your shirt, you hear a familiar voice behind the door

“So, are you gonna stand there or are you going to knock?” The younger Carpenter teases, and she can practically hear you roll your eyes when you scoff

“I was making myself presentable” You shrug, hearing the click of the door as Tara opens it

“Whatever,” The shorter girl laughs “You’re kinda early so you can wait on the couch or something” She takes the bottle of wine from your hands, setting down on a table

“Geez, don’t people have manners nowadays? I thought it was a given to arrive early”

“I think that’s just you being old”

“You’re mean.” Tara’s face collides with a pillow as she turns around and the brunette can faintly hear you say ‘headshot!’ in an excited voice

“Me? Mean? You just assaulted me!”

“You’ll live. Mario Kart?” You wave a second controller in her direction with the game already booted up, and Tara takes her seat next to you on the floor

The next few minutes are spent casually trash-talking each other. When you get particularly close to winning Tara shoves you to the floor, causing you to lose. A smug grin adorns her face when you throw another pillow at her

“Stop throwing pillows at me!” Tara laughs

“You quite literally shoved me to the floor ‘cause you’re not as good as me”

“Shut up, you’ve have more experience”

“Are you calling me old again?” You say in a dramatic tone, and the door rings a whole 20 minutes after the rest of the group is supposed to show up. Sam lets them in, and you wave hello. Mindy gives Tara a look you don’t recognize, but Chad quickly challenges you to another game of Mario Kart

The twin tried his best, he really did. He took the shortcuts, chose the best character, and even optimized his power-ups. But alas, his efforts were rendered useless as you casually mopped the floor with his ass. The scoreboard with your name at the top is enough for Chad to groan in defeat

“Dude, how are you so good?”

“I guess I just have more experience”

“So you can say it but I can’t?” You end up sticking your tongue out at Tara like a child

“Whatever. You guys got any other games?”

“We have Uno” Sam suggests

Oh how foolish she was.

Arguing, wine, and lots of popcorn later, you’re currently in a battle for 4th place with Tara. Fifteen minutes after Chad won 3rd, both of you insisted a 4th place winner. When you put down a plus four twice in a row, the group only groans

“Please are you two almost done?”

“It’s Uno. How about we play another game?” Chad pleads

“Absolutely not. I refuse to lose to a girl that’s basically half my height.”

“Half your height!? You’ll probably be balding by 30!”

“You take that back!” You slam a hand against the table, and your friends can’t tell if they should intervene or watch the argument play out. They choose the latter

Shallow insults are exchanged between you two and the rest of the group finally understands both of you aren’t serious. They decide to leave you two to pick up some pizza, and you’re far too busy arguing how you’re not going to go bald at 30. Really, whose idea was it to give the most competitive people copious amounts of wine?

Eventually your arguing dies down, leaving you both giggling like middle school kids when they see their crush. The absurdity of the situation paired with the wine you both drank made a very fun combo

“Sorry I said you’d bald by 30” Tara leans onto your shoulder and you lay your head atop hers

“It’s okay. Sorry I said you were half my height… even if it’s true” You smile and Tara hits your arm while suppressing a grin

“You mind if I sleep here tonight? Pretty sure I can’t drive my baby in this state”

“Your baby?”

“My motorcycle. Her name is Elizabeth” You nudge her shoulder

“You named your motorcycle?

“It’s how you create attachment, Tara. You name everything so you care more about it”

“God, you’re a weirdo.” The younger Carpenter leans into you even further

“You never answered my question”

“Hmm… I think Sam wouldn’t mind”

“But would you mind?”

“No, you’re my friend”

A comfortable silence passes between you two. Tara, half asleep on your shoulder; and you, trying to formulate a plan to get Tara in her bed. The only good idea you’ve thought of is carrying her, so that’s what you decide to do

Tara makes a sound then holds onto your shirt as you scoop her up from the couch. There’s a feeling in her stomach she can’t quite place when your arms wrap around her. You’re warm, and Tara only wants to get closer to your body heat

“Tara, honey, where’s your room?” You whisper. The pet name accidentally slips, and you hope the younger girl doesn’t notice.

Oh but she does

Tara notices and opts to bury her head in you chest, pointing in the direction of her room. She can feel her face warm up immediately

You open up the door all the way with your foot, and lay Tara down in her bed. You’re about to leave to probably sleep on the couch, but you feel a hand around your wrist and Tara mumble something sleepily

“You alright, Tar?” You bend down

“Please stay… don’t go.” The younger Carpenter whispers, and you wouldn’t be able to hear her if not your close proximity

“I’ll be in the living room, don’t worry. I don’t drink and drive”

“No, I mean stay here.”

“You… You want me to stay in your room?”

Tara nods.

“I- I don’t know, Tara.” You were hesitant to accept her invitation.

“I won’t be far, I promise”

“I don’t care you’re older than me.”

“W-What?”

“Please, you make me so happy. People my age are so dull…” Tara takes your hand in her own, playing with your fingers

“You don’t mean that, Tar. You’re drunk and tired. How about you get some sleep, hm?” You say in the softest voice you can manage, pushing away the thoughts of how badly you just want to hold Tara in your arms again

“Y/n…” Something in you shifts when the brunette says your name in her sleep-drunk state. You notice the pleading look in her eyes, and it’s difficult to imagine saying no to her

“I can’t say no to you.” You sigh, taking off your jacket before getting in bed. Tara immediately curls up against your chest like it’s the most natural thing ever and you wrap your arms around her waist like it’s second nature

“Thank you. I really like you, Y/n”

“If you end up regretting this I’ll pretend like nothing’s happened if you want”

“No!” Both you and Tara are surprised by her tone

“I- I mean no. I promise I won’t regret this. Regret… you.” She says in a smaller voice

“Do you like me too?” Tara looks up at you with hope in her eyes and your heart melts at the sight

“I don’t know, Tara. Part of me thinks this is wrong, and the other part just wants to spend time with you.”

“Ever since… Amber, you’ve helped me move on” This was the most Tara has opened up about her late girlfriend. Of course the group told you a few tiny things about her here and there, but you hadn’t heard from Tara straight up. You knew this was a very hard and difficult subject even as time continued to pas

“You don’t need to feel like you have to tell me about her, Tara. How about we sleep? You’ll have a clearer mind tomorrow” Pressing a kiss against her forehead, your girlfriend(?) smiles

“…can I wear your shirt?”

“I’m right here, you know”

“I wanna be closer to you”

“Go actually get ready for bed, Tara. I know you don’t wanna sleep with makeup on” The brunette gets up to leave but decides to double back and give you a kiss on the cheek, leaving you a subtle lipstick mark

You hate how she makes you all giddy like a teenager in love.

Getting up to ask Tara if she has an oversized hoodie you could sleep in, you’re caught in the hallway by Sam. You only notice how bad it looks you’re walking out Tara’s room with messy hair, ruffled clothes, and a noticeable kiss on your cheek. You’re quick to wipe it off and smooth out your hair a second later

“Sam, it’s not what it looks like.” You say quickly

“I dunno, it really looks like you’re fucking my sister”

“I-It’s not like that! She- I uh-“

“Listen, I don’t mind you’re dating my sister. Would’ve wished you told me, though”

“That’s the thing! I have no idea what we are” You look behind to look for Tara before turning back to Sam

“She said she really liked me, but then she’s also drunk, but then she also kissed me. What if she doesn’t actually mean it? What if she regrets this? What if-” You’re talking quickly and about to start pacing around before Sam grounds you by holding onto your shoulders

“I trust you, Y/n. You’re my friend. I trust you’ll take good care of my sister”

The older Carpenter gives you a quick hug before leaving to her own room, leaving you staring at nothing as the door to the bathroom clicks open

“Y/n? You alright?” Tara pulls you into a hug, shoving her face in your neck

“Y-Yeah, do you have a hoodie I could sleep in?”

“Mmm… I think I have one in your size” The shorter girl leads you to her closet. A few seconds of searching lands you a hoodie with an album cover you don’t recognize. Tara notices your confusion

“Tyler the creator”

“Is he any good?”

“Well duh, I wouldn’t have him on a hoodie if he wasn’t”

“Okay smart ass, no need to be mean” You feign annoyance and the brunette can only roll her eyes and drag you into bed for the second time this night

Both of you get into position again. Tara’s arms securely wrapped around your torso, and your arms that bring her closer to your neck. You decide it isn’t so bad you’re in love with Tara Carpenter

—

You and Sam meet the rest of the group at their college. The lovely older couple that ran the coffee shop insisted you two spent time with Tara. They may as well be your parents with how much they treat you and Sam like their own kin. With the rest of the day to spoil Tara, you happily jump onto her with open arms while spewing a slew of praises and compliments

Your girlfriend should probably be embarrassed at how loud your affection is, but it’s New York. Who really cares? When you’re done being yourself, Sam also gives Tara a bear hug

“So, what’re the plans, birthday girl?” Mindy asks

“Honestly? I just wanna spend time with you guys”

“How disgustingly cute. I think that’s a great idea, babe”

“Are you kidding?” Chad speaks up “The last time we all spent time together, you two were fighting for 4th place in Uno. Fourth place!”

“I think you’re being over dramatic, bud”

“You looked like you were about to flip the fucking table when Tara made you draw 12 cards”

“Like I said, stacking is a curse that makes me angry”

“I gotta agree with Chad, here” Sam chimes in “You almost killed Tara because of Jenga”

“It’s not my fault your little sister is a pathological liar and a gaslighter!” The younger Carpenter rolls her eyes

“You’re awfully childish for someone that’s so old” Your girlfriend laughs, making you look away, embarrassed

“It’s not my fault I’m competitive!”

“So, where do you wanna eat out, Tara?” Anika asks “I’ve been starving practically all day”

“Hooters.” The brunette answers almost immediately

—

“So, birthday girl, what’s it like being 23?”

“A lot like being 22”

“Noting different?”

“Well, this is the first year you’re here to celebrate with me” Tara turns on her side to face you “I guess that’s pretty special”

You copy her actions, now looking at your girlfriend

“Oh yeah? What’s so special about me being here?”

“Please, you really don’t need a bigger ego”

“Aw you’re no fun”

“I’m plenty fun, babe” Tara reaches down to the hem of your shirt, feeling the skin right above your pants

“Mhm, and what type of fun?”

“You’re such a tease.” Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. Both of you are inching closer to each other to close the gap. You blink for half a second, and Tara straddles your lap with a hungry look in her eyes and a smile that highlights her cute dimples

Diving into you, Tara kisses you with fervor and lust. Her kisses are sloppy, but you don’t really care. Currently, the only thing in your mind is Tara’s name on repeat. Both of your clothes are off in only a matter of seconds due to the brunette’s growing eagerness of wanting your fingers inside of her

“A-Are you sure about this?” You mumble in between kisses and pecks

“Absolutely positive, baby.” Your girlfriend’s ever growing wetness smears on the skin of your exposed thigh, making you sigh in delight

“If you don’t want to keep going, just tell me and I’ll-“

“Y/n.” Your head snaps up at the brunette saying your name

“I want this. I want all of you. Drill it into your pretty brain, yeah?” Tara makes an act of lightly drilling her finger into the side of your head, making you laugh

When you kiss Tara for a second time it feels different. Her lips taste sweeter and all you want to do is give her the entire world. Unfortunately you’re only mortal, so you opt to give her a few lot of mind blowing orgasms instead

—

“So, what’re your plans for the break?”

“We were actually planning a road trip to the beach this weekend to celebrate, and you’re coming”

“No room for debate, huh?” You laugh, swinging an arm over her shoulders “I’ll have to bring my truck, though. Elizabeth is 100% going”

“Sometimes I think you like her more than me”

“You may be my girlfriend, but Elizabeth is my first love” This earns you a punch to the arm via Tara. Although it doesn’t hurt much, you feign a wounded expression and place the back of your hand to your forehead

“Woe is I, for my girlfriend no longer loves me…”

“You’ll be okay” Tara rolls her eyes

“Kiss it better?”

—

“Please can we have a ride without our helmets?”

“Sam wouldn’t forgive me if we crashed and you weren’t wearing a helmet”

“Please, baby?” Tara uses her best puppy eyes, and she knows they’re working when you look away to resist her charm

“The sunset is beautiful, the back roads are empty, and I want to spend our last moments here on the beach. Don’t you want to see the view, baby?”

You sigh, looking away. This girl was going to be the death of you.

“Well after such a confession, I don’t think I’m able to say anything other than yes” Tara kisses you on the tip of your nose, making it scrunch up just how she liked it

“This is gonna be so aesthetic, babe”

“…Aesthetic?”

“You’re not that old, love”

Before getting on, you take two spare sunglasses from your leather jacket pocket and hold them out for Tara

“Aviator or round?”

“You take the Aviators, I want you to look like one of those guys from Top Gun” Tara takes the sunglasses out of your hand to place them on your face

“Geez, I look more like a biker than a motorcyclist now”

“There’s a difference?”

“I’ll teach you one day. Cmon, the sun’s setting already”

Tara truly believes she’s made it to heaven while you drive. Arms around your waist, the salty breeze, and not to mention the beautiful setting sun. This is what she’s always been craving

Exhilarated is how she’d describe being around you. The simplest touches sent shivers down her spine. The tiniest glances made Tara’s heart giddy with joy. How couldn’t she fall for you? Picture-perfect is what you were. Not boring, not simple, not easy. You were… you

With sand in you hair from previous beach endeavors and a smile wide enough your girlfriend can see just from looking at the back of your head, Tara can’t image herself anywhere but with you

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #scream #tara carpenter #scream 6 #tara carpenter scream #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #sam carpenter #anika kayoko

[fuckyeahisawthat]

“I don’t think that is what God wants. And I don’t think you want it either.”

This line of Aziraphale’s in the Job minisode keeps sticking out to me. Because this is the heart of the problem, right? This is how Aziraphale can see Crowley so completely and also not at all.

Because yes they suck at open communication and yes it’s because they had to hide their relationship for thousands of years and have so so so much trauma and fear to work through. But ALSO they actually do have a profound difference in how they see the world that keeps coming between them, and it’s not just theoretical but deeply personal to both of them.

Because Aziraphale still wants to believe that God is good. He can’t let go of that because his whole identity is wrapped up in being an angel of the Lord, and if God’s not good then what has he been doing for his entire existence?

And so when bad things are happening he falls back on This cannot be what God wants. The whole of season one, he refuses to believe that God could really want the world to end—even though we now know he knew this was a possibility before the world even started. He keeps going up the chain of command, trying to find someone to intervene. “That’s why I’m going to have a word with the Almighty and then the Almighty will fix it.” As if God doesn’t have all the information or hasn’t been paying attention.

And really, the events of season one reinforce this worldview for him. Because if the Archangel Fucking Gabriel isn’t sure what God wants, then maybe God did want them to stop Armageddon. Maybe it was Aziraphale and Crowley who were doing God’s work after all.

He’s gotten as far as realizing that Heaven’s orders are not the same thing as God’s will, but he still hasn’t detached the concepts of Good and Right from God in his worldview.

Crowley is a good person who does the right thing so he must still be an angel deep down. “I know the angel you were.” The only way Aziraphale can conceptualize Crowley saving Job’s children is, “Come on, you’re a little bit on our [God’s] side.” So Crowley’s fall was a mistake; Crowley belongs in Heaven, where he was so happy before the Fall. Why wouldn’t he want to be an angel again? And yeah maybe Heaven sucks now but God is still good, so there’s hope that the system can be reformed with a change of leadership, and Heaven can be made to actually do good, the way God always intended.

But that’s not how Crowley sees the world at all. He is operating with an entirely different understanding of reality. Because he figured out a long time ago (at least by the time of the Job job, but probably long before that) that you can’t base your sense of morality on what you think God wants. Not just because you don’t know for sure, but because sometimes God’s plans are fucking awful. God in Good Omens is not kind to Her creations. She doesn’t tolerate questions or doubts or disobedience. She’s capricious, turning on the creatures She made and killing a bunch of them when She’s in a bad mood. She punishes indiscriminately and disproportionately. She wagers human lives like gambling chips. The kids were supposed to be dead no matter who won the bet.

I think it’s interesting that Crowley is the one who introduces the idea in season one of “What if the Almighty planned it like this all along? From the very beginning.” That’s probably a comforting thought to Aziraphale, soothing his anxieties about going against Heaven right when he is feeling acute distress at the idea of no longer having a side. (And, in that particular moment, no longer even having a bookshop.)

But it’s not a comforting thought to Crowley. Have you seen what happens when God has a plan for you? It fucking sucks. Woe betide you if you’re the Barbie God decides to play with today. (At bare minimum, you’re coming back with some burn marks and a weird haircut.)

I’ve brought up the line “There are no right people. There’s just God, moving in mysterious ways and not talking to any of us” before, and I tend to focus on the “there are no right people” part. But also, there’s just God.

Aziraphale tends to draw a distinction between God’s will and Heaven’s orders when it suits him, and collapse that distinction when it doesn’t. Crowley almost never differentiates between God and Heaven. There’s just God, and She’s not going to explain why this is happening or listen to pleas for mercy (although Crowley still tries). You can’t trust Heaven or Hell, and you can’t count on God to show up and make everything all right. Sometimes God is in fact the reason that things are not all right. You’re on your own.

(And. Look. Crowley is right on this one. There are certainly aspects of their relationship where they’re both equally responsible for things being a shitshow, but the text is pretty unambiguous about Crowley, a demon, having the most accurate read on the nature of God in the world of Good Omens out of any of the metaphysical characters.)

Crowley rebuilt his entire sense of self, alone, after the Fall. He created himself anew and developed his own moral compass and sense of identity independent of both Heaven and Hell. “The angel you knew is not me.” When Crowley does the right thing, that’s not his angel-ness shining through; that’s just Crowley.

And from a like, trauma recovery point of view, it’s actually very healthy for him to have the realization that sometimes God’s just kind of a dick. He didn’t do anything to deserve getting kicked out of Heaven. None of them did. Just God messing them about because She didn’t like being questioned, or She wanted to see what would happen, or She needed two sides for Reasons and didn’t much care who was on one or the other, or She’s playing some fucked up little game for Her own amusement. (And if there was some Great Plan that required Crowley to fall…well, that is also fucked up. Because it doesn’t matter if there was a reason. It still hurt.)

And while Crowley in general is extremely patient with Aziraphale and his slow, halting journey away from Heaven…it’s gotta sting, every time Aziraphale doesn’t want to believe that God could be cruel, when Crowley is standing right fucking there. It’s gotta hurt when Aziraphale refuses to see something that Crowley knows to be true through his own lived experience. Because it should be enough. What happened to him should be enough to make someone who loves him walk away from Heaven and never look back. And it isn’t.

But of course Crowley is one hundred percent not going to talk about this, if he is even fully self-aware about having these thoughts, because it’s far too painful and vulnerable. (He talks to plants, goats, God, and no one in a bar at the end of the world, but never to Aziraphale.) And so he says “Tell me you said no” and “I think I understand a lot better than you do” because he can’t say Choose me. Just this once, choose me and he can’t say Believe me.

And Aziraphale is not going to think about all this and work it out for himself, because he has a massive lump of denial centered around exactly this thing, that sometimes God hurts people who didn’t do anything to deserve it. I’m sure he’s thought about the Fall in abstract terms, enough to be afraid of it, but not in terms of this is a thing that happened to a person I love. And he has certainly not allowed himself to draw any conclusions about the nature of God from it, because that is far too scary a prospect.

And so they’re stuck. Until they can figure out how to remove this massive landmine from the center of their relationship, they are going to keep having the same fight over and over again, and they’re going to keep hurting each other without fully understanding why.

#do you know HOW HARD it is to write genuine ideological conflict that also feels deeply personal?? and they did it SO WELL #i am in awe tbh #good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #heaven #hell #god #the god in good omens is not nice and you can’t convince me otherwise #is a tag i have from s1 and i’m sticking with it #fall thoughts

[anthurak]

One of the more subtle details about Hazbin Hotel that I’m particularly interested to see is what the actual Power Dynamics between the various characters are going to look like.

Because with everything we’ve seen from Helluva Boss, I have a hunch that there has actually been a bit of misdirection going on in the promotional material. Specifically in how the Overlords like Valentino, Vox, Velvette and even Alastor are presented as these very powerful and dangerous threats to the Hotel and that Charlie and Vaggie are probably in way over their heads trying to deal with them.

Buuuttt… then we ALSO have everything that Vivzie has mentioned behind-the-scenes about the class and power rankings of Hell. Specifically, the fact that apparently only the most powerful of the Overlords like Valentino and Alastor can be considered simply on par with the Goetic Nobility like Stolas in terms of power. Or even more notably, the fact that Charlie herself is apparently just as, if not MORE powerful than the Kings of SIN.

And thanks to Helluva Boss, we have a pretty good idea just HOW POWERFUL the likes of Asmodeus, Bee-lzebub and Mammon are. Which in turn could very well be giving us a hint of just how powerful Charlie might be.

Basically, I have a hunch that both the audience AND the Sinners (even those close to Charlie like Angel Dust) are MASSIVELY underestimating just how POWERFUL the Princess of Hell REALLY is. Like how her normally upbeat, friendly, ‘Disney Princess’, ‘Just wants to help everyone’ demeanor belies the fact that she may very well be fully capable of obliterating the likes of Valentino, Vox or even Alastor with EASE if she really wanted to.

Imagine if this ends up being a big reveal at some point? Like we get these subtle hints in the early episodes that Charlie may be quite a bit more powerful than she’s really letting on, perhaps by giving us a glimpse at what her parents are capable of. Until at some point one of the Overlords just takes things a bit too far. Say, Valentino is getting ready to full-on destroy the hotel, or about to straight-up kill Angel Dust for good with one of those Blessed Weapons we know are floating around?

Only for Charlie to just straight up DELETE Val with a metaphorical snap of her fingers.

And before I go into the broader narrative implications of all this, it’s also worth mentioning that this deliberate underestimation could apply to Vaggie as well. Because if Vaggie really is a former Exorcist, ie; a Fallen Angel like a lot of people are theorizing, this would likely mean that she’s fully capable of permanently killing Sinners, even the Overlords, if she really wanted to. Meaning that while Vaggie might not be as powerful as Charlie, she is no less DEADLY.

(As an aside, regarding the ‘mechanics’ of what could make Charlie so dangerous to sinners beyond simply raw power: We know that Sinners can only permanently die to Angelic Weapons. In other words, the ‘Holy’ power of the Angels and Heaven destroys them for good. And remember who Charlie’s father is? Not just an angel, but one of the most powerful angels to ever exist.)

What I find so interesting about all this is that it could completely upend a lot of the character and power dynamics we might be expecting. For example, totally recontextualizing Alastor’s motivations in supporting Charlie and her Hotel; as powerful as he might be, he’s still far beneath Charlie.

As well as introduce what could be Charlie’s real personal conflict and arc for the show. Because Charlie still wants to HELP the sinners of Hell, and almost certainly doesn’t want to be or act like some all-powerful being lording over subjects they consider fall beneath them. Even though she could.

And of course, being an ultimate overlord is very likely what Lucifer will be ENCOURAGING Charlie to be. Which in turn feeds nicely into Charlie’s conflict with her father.

Finally, let’s consider Charlie’s motivation, paired with what she could become: She wants everyone to be happy and safe and generally the best, and she has the absolute POWER to IMPOSE her idea of ‘happiness’ and ‘goodness’ on others if she really wanted to.

Now is it just me, or does that sound a LOT like what we saw of HEAVEN in Helluva Boss?

What if Hazbin Hotel ultimately presents Heaven, the Angels and possibly God him/her/themself as the TRUE antagonist of the show, AND a full-on villainous counterpart to Charlie?

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #charlie morningstar #hazbin vaggie #hazbin alastor #hazbin valentino #hazbin vox #hazbin overlords #lucifer morningstar #helluva asmodeus #helluva beelzebub #helluva mammon #hazbin hotel theory #charlie is probably WAY more powerful than people give her credit for #charlie has MASSIVE 'cinnamon roll who could totally murder you' energy #i think anyone who seriously expects alastor to hold any kind of real power over charlie is probably going to be in for a BIG surprise

[adrinoir]

The Miraculous Movie was different than the series…and that’s okay!

I watched the movie this morning and loved it! I think it’s important to talk about the changes that were made and what impact they had.

How the characters were rewritten

There definitely was a difference in how the characters were written in the movie, and some of the redevelopment of characters was really good!

Gabriel was by far the one who had the best redevelopment of his personality. Gabriel in the series is awful, as we all know.

In the series, he barely gives a shit about his own son, like there is absolutely nothing redeemable about his character. In every “what if” episode and the season 5 finale, Gabriel does not show any regret to hurting people, including his own son.

However, in the movie, Gabriel actually makes a better attempt to communicate with Adrien and, most importantly, feels strong regret when he hurt his son. He cries; he feels remorse for destroying Paris and injuring Adrien in the process. He hugs Adrien (along with the spirit of Emilie 🥹) and decides to stop being Hawk Moth. It was beautifully done. He got a redemption arc that he never got in the series. I know I personally felt so good watching that and seeing the relationship between him and Adrien being repaired.

Marinette was her usual clumsy self, but was written as having no friends at school because she embarrasses herself so much. In a way, it makes more sense than her being so popular like she is in the series. Kids in high school can be pretty judgy and ruthless. So it makes sense for the “clumsy girl” to be made fun of and judged by people who don’t know her well.

Adrien was different in a lot of ways. He wasn’t shown running to school to gain freedom. He wasn’t introduced as being a super model who’s friends with Chloe. Instead, he’s already going to the school, he’s already friends with Nino, and he happens to run into Marinette at the library. He doesn’t have that same chemistry with Marinette as he does in the series which is a bit odd that they took that away, but it does make sense that he’d turn her down when she asked him to the ball, since he loves Ladybug. In the movie, he very clearly sees Marinette as just a friend and it’s shown that he’s building a friendship with her without him developing a crush. It’s different but still wholesome, especially when he shows her the old family photo to her. Plus, it evens it out well since Ladybug obviously turns Cat Noir away but they’re still building up their bond, too. They both get turned down.

It was ehhh that Adrien was a bit too cocky at times as Cat Noir, but overall, his goofiness and self confidence is still pretty on brand for him. He was still very encouraging towards Ladybug but not overly flirtatious, pushing her to her limits. Instead, it was them lightly teasing each other and then playfully fighting. And, speaking of the playful fighting, their bond was stronger in the movie seeing as how they were shown spending more time together off duty and that they were treated as equals.

In the show, Cat Noir is automatically made sidekick and left in the dark about everything. But in the movie, he gets to meet Master Fu in disguise alongside Ladybug. Sure, he didn’t help Master Fu with his cane like he did in the series, but that didn’t matter since the lore was changed.

Alya was less annoying in the movie. Sorry. Don’t get me wrong, I love Alya in the series, but she’s so over the top at times with how obsessed she is over the heroes, blogging, and filming things for her blog. In the movie, she was toned down a lot and I liked that. It was also cute that Nino had a crush on her and just her, not Marinette first. Unlike the series, he wasn’t on that pipeline of guys who fell for Marinette since that pipeline doesn’t exist in the movie.

Tom was made out to be an embarrassment for Marinette which is honestly more realistic for a teenager. Most teenagers get pretty embarrassed by their parents, especially when they still treat them very childlike. And, I like that he went out to the fair to look for her since he heard there was danger. Marinette’s parents don’t usually go out to look for her or make sure she’s in her room when there’s danger afoot. So, I appreciate that they made Tom do that since he obviously loves Marinette a lot.

The rewriting of (some of) the lore

As I had mentioned in my previous section, the lore was rewritten, too. Instead of Master Fu being the one to pick Marinette and Adrien simply because they helped him, the kwamis sense that Marinette and Adrien are the right people to be Ladybug and Cat Noir. That was a much better way to write that, in my opinion.

Hawk Moth got ahold of the butterfly miraculous by mistake. That part wasn’t changed but also, it didn’t need to be.

The change of plot

The plot was very simple. It didn’t have a whole lot of crazy, in depth details like the show’s does. So, anyone who has never watched the show can easily understand and absorb what’s going on (I will be forcing my boyfriend to watch it with me since he’s never seen the show lol).

I like that it was very clear cut and easy to understand while still being intense and meaningful. It still summarizes a lot of what the series entails while fixing some issues in the plot development.

They didn’t doddle with Hawk Moth like they do in the show. He was a successful villain in his second attempt but then realized he should stop when he hurt his own son in the process.

Also, there was a reveal. It was a wee bit underwhelming, but I still think it was done well! It was a moment with just Marinette and Adrien alone, as it should be. And, it was cutesy and heartfelt. The fact that Marinette dressed like Ladybug for the ball (cutest dress ever imo) and Adrien dressed like Cat Noir was so cute. That’s what a lot of the fandom has been asking for and written about in fanfics, I feel like.

The romance between these two is most important. They didn’t need Kagami and Luka as 2nd love interests to throw things off track. Yes, I like these characters in the show, but they weren’t needed in the plot.

The music

I love musicals. I was a bit of a theater kid in high school, plus I’m obsessed with music lol. So, yes, I’m a bit biased when I say I love that they made this a musical.

I personally loved the music. I can tell a lot of good effort was put into it and I’ve already been listening to the songs on my Spotify. The song between Ladybug and Cat Noir in the theater “Now I See” and Cat Noir jumping on the clouds (literally, on cloud nine) singing “My Lady” was absolutely adorable and super romantic, which, as we know, is a big part of the show.

Even Gabriel’s song “Chaos Will Reign Today” was amazing! It conveyed a lot of emotion and turns into one of those dramatic villain songs. Keith Silverstein is clearly talented enough to sing for his own character and he did it well.

My only nitpick is that Marinette’s singer, Lou, has a very different voice than Christina Vee. So, Marinette sounds very different, much more mature-sounding when she sings and it kinda catches you off guard. I’m surprised they didn’t have Christina sing for her, but there must’ve been a reason why she didn’t. But, SQVARE sounded similar enough to Bryce Papenbrook when he sung for Cat Noir which i absolutely love.

Conclusion

I personally give this movie a 10/10 just because it made me smile the whole time, and it’s such a feel good movie. I’ll happily watch it again and listen to the soundtrack, especially on a day when I’m feeling down. It wasn’t perfect in every aspect, but it was perfect in a simple, heartwarming sense and that it can be watched by everyone, not only people who watch the series.

I understand if it made you cringe or you were moreso looking for a continuation of the series not a retelling. But, I prefer some simplicity which is a big part of what made me like it. Like I said, I know it wasn’t absolute perfection, but it was so frickin adorable and I can’t help but smile.

There’s a lot of differences but also plenty of similarities between the movie and the show. But understand they’re not meant to be the same and that’s okay! I don’t think the movie was horrible for most of the changes it made. In fact, I think most of them made sense and made it a bit more realistic (as I explained).

#miraculous ladybug #tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculous #miraculers #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous the movie #ladybug and cat noir: the awakening #miraculous the awakening #ml spoilers #ml analysis #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #hawk moth #gabriel agreste #bryce papenbrook #keith silverstein #christina vee #miraculous movie

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

For All I Care

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Asexual!Tav, Astarion x Bard!Tav

Astarion's POV, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Astarion being bad with emotions, hints of one-sided Gale x Tav if you squint

Warning: Canon typical violence, violent thoughts toward Tav

Summary: After a fight with a hag, the rest of the party wakes up to find you still fighting for your life. Astarion feels himself at a loss, afraid and helpless in a way he has never felt before. And it's all your fault.

A/N: Just a gentle reminder that I have not played the game, so in terms of the exact placement on the timeline, it's a little sketchy. Just know that this is well before the events of I Want It All, and we'll call it good. And, as always, PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!

Word Count: 6.2K

If Astarion never saw a hag again, it would be too soon. Just one was more than enough for several lifetimes. The bitch was not only a sore to look at but hit like a brick wall. Even after a full night’s sleep aided by Shadowheart’s magic, he still felt stiff all over. 

The rest of camp wasn’t much better. The sun was almost fully overhead by the time everyone stumbled out of their bed rolls. All morning banter was replaced with mumbled greetings and not so subtle groans. Even Lae’zel remained quiet, seemingly too occupied with her own discomfort to comment on the weakness of everyone else. 

Astarion counted himself grateful for that. He didn’t think he could endure a lecture on top of an aching back. 

“Here we are,” Gale said, a little too cheerfully. “I know last night's excursion was rather strenuous, but if this doesn’t cure what ails you, nothing will. No offense, Shadowheart.” 

“I would take offense, but I’m frankly too tired to care,” she countered, dryly. 

Gale gave a good natured laugh before handing her a bowl of something hot. 

The pout on her face fell away as soon as she took her first bite. The rest weren’t far behind, the low murmur of pain turning to something more pleasant. 

Astarion observed, doing his best to push down the bite on envy in his chest. He could eat, technically, but it went right through him, not even granting him the temporary relief of a full stomach. If it didn’t smell appetizing, he wouldn’t mind so much, but it did. Yet another minor torture of his existence. 

Eventually Gale did turn his gaze to him, that annoyingly persistent enthusiasm faltering.

“Do you…ah, require a refreshment?”

Deciding to have some fun, Astarion gave him his best seductive smirk.

“Very much,” he purred. “However, if you’re the one offering, I’ll pass. I’ve got someone much more appetizing in mind.”

He turned his head towards your tent, and immediately frowned. You still hadn’t made an appearance. Granted you were always one to rest in, but this was getting ridiculous. 

Gale followed his eye line, grimacing as he came to a similar conclusion. 

“Might need to hold off on that. They got it pretty rough last night.”

“I’ll go check on them,” Wyll volunteered, pouring a fresh bowl of stew. “If anything will get them out of bed, this will.” He then turned to Astarion, giving him a hard look. “Try to keep your fangs to yourself until they’ve eaten something.”

He answered with a mocking pout. “Oh mother, must I?”

Wyll didn’t raise to the bait, rolling his one good eye before making his way towards your tent. 

Something odd twisted inside Astarion. He was struck with the sudden urge to trip the man. Childish perhaps, but he just couldn’t stand that tone of altruistic condescension. He would have spoken up if Wyll hadn’t beaten him to it. He was rather partial to the idea of you and him sharing breakfast in bed. It would only be breakfast, but he wasn’t in a position to try for more. At the very least, it would be a convenient excuse to check on you himself.

Gale hadn’t been exaggerating. You had gotten the brunt of the hag’s attention, running between everyone to provide whatever aid you could. By the time you made it back to camp, you could barely stand, skipping your nightly check-ins in favor of falling straight into your tent and a soundless sleep.

This troubled him in a way he couldn’t properly explain.  It wasn’t like he needed you to tuck him in, but he had grown accustomed to your face being the last he saw before closing his eyes. He knew the others appreciated it as well. It was how you had found yourself as the leader of this merry band. You weren’t the strongest or the most powerful, you simply took the time to care.

It should have bothered him more. Gods knew he clashed with Wyll and Karlach on more than one occasion concerning their bleeding heart heroics. Perhaps it was because your heart always put the party first. You’d extend it to others, but never to the point it needlessly put them and, more importantly, him in danger. 

You just…helped, with clear eyed understanding and so little fanfare it made it easy to forget just how much you did, until the moment you couldn’t. 

He blinked hard, mentally yanking himself from wherever his mind was leading him. 

He wouldn’t feed on you today, he decided. There had to be some boar or deer around. It’d be best if they stay put another day anyhow. No need to rush into the next life or death scenario.

“Shadowheart! Gale!”

Everyone turned, to see Wyll running from your tent. The two spellcasters were up the next second, all exhaustion rushing from their bodies, readying for a fight. 

“What’s going on?” Gale asked.

“I don’t know. Something’s wrong with Tav.”

“What? How?” Shadowheart interjected. “They were fine last night. I healed them myself.”

Wyll shook his head. “That may be, but they’re not waking up.”

“We better have a look then,” Gale said, with an authority that left no room for argument. He took the lead, the two others falling quickly behind. 

Astarion stayed where he was, frozen. There was a hard twisting in his gut. He could feel the hair rise on the back of his neck as the sudden need to run shot through his veins. He recognized the symptoms; fear was an emotion he was intimately familiar with.

Before he realized what was happening, he was on his feet, taking long strides towards your tent. 

It couldn’t be as bad as Wyll was making it sound. Admittedly, you had been run rather ragged, but nothing the rest of them hadn’t felt. Perhaps he had taken one bite too many. This was nothing. You were fine. You were supposed to be fine. 

He stopped at the threshold, pushing aside the flap. 

Whatever breath he had in his lungs rushed out in an instant. 

The first thing that hit him was the smell. It clung to the inside of his nose reeking of damp sickness. Your body was drenched in sweat, your hair plastered to your forehead in soaked clumps. He swore he could feel the heat of your skin burning. Your breath came ragged as if someone had wrapped an invisible hand around your throat and was slowly choking the life out of you. He could see how your body twitched and jerked. It was taking both Shadowheart and Wyll to keep your limbs in check as Gale mumbled some enchantment over your body. 

His hand gripped hard on the fabric. He needed to take a step back. He had little experience with disease, but it was plain enough that whatever this was didn’t play by any rules he was familiar with. The survivor in him screamed to use this perfect distraction to grab whatever he could carry and run. Still, he didn’t move. 

“What’s wrong with them?” he said, his voice rough even to his ears. 

“I don’t know,” Gale admitted, clearly disturbed. “I haven’t seen anything like this before.”

“They were fine,” Shadowheart insisted. “I healed them, and they went to bed. Nothing else happened.”

“There were a lot of spells being thrown around last night. Maybe they were hit with something the rest of us weren’t,” Wyll suggested. 

“Oh Gods,” Karlach said, just behind Astarion’s shoulder. “Do you think it’s the tadpoles?”

Something heavy sunk straight into his stomach at her words. It certainly was a possibility. They all knew the symptoms, but why now? Why you? 

There was a slight rustle of movement just behind him. Lae’zel by the smell. A quick look out of the corner of his eye saw her standing just behind Karlach. Her back was stiff and her expression hardened in a way he had come to recognize. 

He never moved faster in his life. 

Before anyone could react, he ducked under Karlach’s arm, knocking Lae’zel off her feet. Her sword scattered clear of her grip, skittering into the grass. She fell with a hard thump as he used the momentum to trap her under the weight of his body and dagger at her throat. 

“Now, what were you planning to do with that,” he said, as smooth as a knife. 

Her surprise was evident, but quickly overtaken by a low growl straight from her chest. 

“Unhand me, or I will unhand you.”

“Might need the sword for that.”

“Oi! What’s going on?” Karlach said, finally turning towards the scene. 

“If it is the tadpoles, we cannot risk them turning,” Lae’zel snapped. “I am prepared to do what is necessary.” 

Red blinded Astarion’s vision, a hiss escaping his lips as they pulled back to show bared fangs.

“Necessary?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Wyll said, stepping beside Karlach. “Just think a moment. If it was the tadpoles, wouldn’t all of us have felt something by now?”

Lae’zel ignored him, her eyes turning straight to Astarion’s. Her expression lost none of its fury, but there was a coldness to it that forced an air of calm. 

“You know I’m right,” she held. 

His jaw clenched. He did know. If even one of them turned into a mind flayer the rest were bound to follow. Killing you would be the logical thing to do to preserve his own survival. Still, it wasn’t your neck he was poised to cut. 

“Nobody is killing anyone!” Wyll interjected. “Gale and Shadowheart will figure out what’s wrong with Tav. In the meantime, we are not going to do anything we would sooner regret.”

“Astarion?” Karlach said, cautiously. 

There was a long pause. He could feel their eyes burning the back of his skull, but neither stepped closer. It was easy to imagine what he looked like; half crazed, teeth bared and blade ready. Not his best moment. 

With what grace he could muster, he pulled away, quickly putting some distance between himself and Lae’zel.

She got to her feet, decidedly not reaching for her weapon as her eyes moved between the three of them. 

“They live for now,” she allowed. “But if Tav does turn, you know what we’ll have to do.”

Astarion’s spine stiffened. The dagger twitched in his hand, just in time for Karlach to step between them.

“Walk away Lae’zel,” she said, sternly. “I’m not kidding.” 

Lae’zel’s brow furrowed, her face twisting in disgust. “Tsk'va,” she cursed. “Cowards. All of you.” 

She turned then, picking up her sword before making her way back to her tent. 

Once she was a good distance away, some of the tension left Karlach’s shoulders as she pulled her attention back to him. 

“You okay?” Karlach asked.

“Well, I certainly haven’t made any new friends,” Astarion said, his voice tighter than he intended. He glanced over at Wyll. “I take it still no answers?”

Wyll gave a long sigh. “Gale said he’ll need more time to detect the exact cause. He doesn’t think it’s the tadpoles, but there’s no telling just yet. Luckily, Shadowheart was able to calm them enough to sleep. At the very least they’re no longer at risk of hurting themselves.” 

“So what do we do?” Karlach asked. 

“Wait. This isn’t something we can fight. Gale and Shadowheart will do what they can, but ultimately, this is Tav’s battle.” 

Astarion bit back a growl as red once again danced across his vision. 

Wait? That was the fabled Blade of Frontier’s brilliant plan? Hells below was everyone in this camp completely useless?! He didn’t need to be a cleric to know what was happening. He knew what dying smelled like and none of them, not a single one, could think of an actual, tangible solution besides wait?

Forget tripping the man, it was taking every single ounce of restraint to keep from strangling him. 

Draining the last of his patience, he turned on his heel, and made his way towards the treeline. 

“Where are you going?” Wyll called. 

“To go kill something,” Astarion spat. “Unless you want me to stay here and do it.” 

Wyll looked like he was going to say something that would put his neck in Astarion’s teeth, but Karlach spoke up first. 

“We’ll make sure Lae’zel keeps her distance. Don’t wander too far.”

Astarion didn’t have an answer. He just managed a tight nod before continuing out of camp and out of sight. 

He didn’t know how long he walked. He just knew that by the time he stopped the sun was much lower in the sky. The sounds of his companions deafened in the overgrowth leaving him well and truly alone. 

A shuddering breath escaped his lungs. Whatever strength in his limbs left him. He only just managed to catch himself on a tree as his hands began to shake. 

What in the nine hells had he been thinking? 

Well, that was the trick, wasn’t it? He hadn’t been thinking. Fear had been driving him and he had done as he always did when fear took over; he found a way to survive, damn anyone who got in his way. The difference was, it wasn’t his life that was in danger. When had your survival become so vital to his? 

He knew he was reliant on you to keep him safe from Cazador. You were the only one who trusted him. Without your vote of confidence, chances are he would have been left to his own devices a long time ago. He needed you alive if he were to maintain the protection of the others. And he had put that protection in direct threat by holding a knife to one of the group’s best fighters. 

He let out a frustrated groan, rubbing his face in his hands. 

Fuck, this was a disaster. He had never been particularly gifted when it came to strategy. It was difficult to anticipate consequences when he never knew what fresh hell awaited him in the morning. Compound that feeling by two hundred years and it was no wonder all his plans fell apart. 

Even if you did survive, he still had no way of guaranteeing you would stay loyal to him. All his attempts at seduction had failed.  You certainly enjoyed his company, and he was sure you gave him more attention than the others, but he didn’t know what you wanted. Every single day he waited for you to name your price and every single day you failed to answer. It was driving him to insanity.  

No wonder he had been so quick to draw his blade. Any grasp he had on safety was already hanging by an invisible thread. 

He let out a deep breath, forcing himself to calm. There was little he could control at the moment, but he could control himself. It was a new sensation, one he was still getting used to. He’d have an easier time of it once he fed. 

Blood of thinking beings was out for the moment. He’d have to settle for something big and preferably angry. There would be nothing elegant about this hunt. 

He got his wish. While he might have preferred a bear, the raging boar did well enough for his purposes.

It was an ugly kill. He didn’t just bite the beast. He tore into its neck so deeply the bones of its neck became exposed to the open air alongside bloodied muscle. His hands did the rest, ripping it fully open so the innards spilled out onto the forest floor. In the end, he didn’t even get much blood out of it, allowing the earth to become wet with carnage. 

He breathed it in, hoping it would somehow erase the smell of your convulsing body from his mind. 

It didn’t work. 

Even with fresh blood in his mouth, he could only think of your labored breaths and racing heart. The relief of sated hunger became tainted by the taste of sickness on his tongue.

He forced himself back on his feet, not bothering to wipe away the blood as he stumbled further into the forest. 

There was nothing he could do. He’d sooner drain the life from you than save it. It was baked into his nature; a disease in his own right.  

If he just had a target, something he could trick or kill, it would be different. Instead he was left to wait; useless…powerless. 

His hands clenched, his nails digging into his palms to the point of pain. 

Surely he didn’t need you so badly. If you died, he would just have to refocus his efforts on somebody else; Shadowheart perhaps, or even Gale. He wasn’t about to get sentimental now. He would survive you as he had done countless others. This wasn’t his end.

He found a deer next, performing the same ritualistic slaughter. Blood filled him. He could feel his mind becoming clear, but it wasn’t enough. He moved onto a burrow of rabbits, then a badger, and even a weasel. It was only when he caught himself seriously contemplating gutting a squirrel did he realize how futile it was. All the blood in the world couldn’t make up for his inherent weakness. 

He had grown too dependent on you. It was making him sloppy, unbalanced. Maybe you were better off dead. He would be free then. 

That was the point of this whole venture wasn’t it? To be free. Free of Cazador. Free of fear. And here he was ready to chain himself to another just because they’d shown him a bit of kindness. What was that kindness worth when the loss of it inspired a terror he'd never known before.

A fury rose within him, one he clung to like a lifeline. 

This was all your fault. You brought him to this. How could he possibly forgive you?

He let the anger fester as he took the time to clean himself up. Blood caked his hands up to his elbows with tendons stuck under his fingernails. It took several washes in a nearby stream to get it all out. He counted himself lucky his shirt had managed to escape most of the viscera. The last thing he wanted was an interrogation. 

He needn’t have worried. It was well after dark by the time he crept back to camp. All was still, in the same way a body became when holding its breath. 

He spotted Gale easily enough as he poured over some tome, his lips moving along with the words. Lae’zel and Wyll sat together, polishing their weapons without exchanging a word. Shadowheart looked to be meditating while Karlach sat next to the fire, brow furrowed while throwing the occasional stick into the flames. 

Aside from the faint scrap of stone on metal, not a sound came from any of them. 

Against his own will, his gaze turned to your tent.

It struck him then, why the quiet filled him with such dread. 

By now a steady flow of strings should be teasing the edge of his ears. You seemed convinced a half inch of fabric was enough to muffle your rehearsals. None of them bothered to correct this assumption. On more than one occasion, he found himself forgetting the book in his hand as he listened to you work out some new melody. There was something about the way you played, as if each note lifted a burden on your soul. And if the night wasn’t filled with your music, it was touched by your voice. 

You had a way of sparking conversation, sharing countless stories while encouraging the others to do the same. You knew when to listen, when to comment and just when to laugh to make the telling all the sweeter. He spent more time than he cared to admit thinking about how to pull that sound to your lips. He found it had the same effect on him as your plucking.

Then there were the rare times, when banter dwindled and everyone became lost in their own thoughts, he could make out a song just under your breath, an unconscious hum to accompany your work. 

It brought a comfort he couldn’t describe, one he hadn’t realized he needed, until it was gone. 

With quick steps he made his way to you, slipping into your tent with not even the barest rustle of fabric.

He’d never been in your tent before. If it were any other day, he’d be taking the time to examine every inch of it, but all he could focus on was you. 

You were so still. An improvement from before, but not an especially encouraging one.  It was clear from the perfectly arranged pillows you hadn’t moved since Shadowheart put you back to sleep.  The only hint you were alive was that barest intake and outtake of breath.

His jaw tightened, his body tensing as a growing panic rose within him. 

No, this was good. You were stable, for now. He still had options, more time to plan. He didn’t have to make any decisions tonight. Best he left and waited to see what the morning would bring.

You took a sharp intake of breath, slightly deeper than before. Your eyes twitched behind your lids and then you settled.

He paused, glancing to the entrance, half expecting somebody to come rushing in.  He was surprised nobody was in here with you, or at the very least watching the door. He had slipped by without so much as a “hey you”. Any vagrant could just wander in. 

He could end it right now. All it would take was one quick slice. The picture became clear; a single surprised gasp, the smell of your blood and then…silence. Forever. 

Bile rose in his throat. He shut his eyes trying to will the image away as that new desperate terror threatened to drown him all over again.  

Damn you. Damn you to every circle of the hells! 

The gods were mocking him. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. He couldn’t just like you. No, he had to go and start caring.  

A small whimper broke through his thoughts. Your head jerked, your brows pinching in distress. 

Shadowheart. He needed to get Shadowheart, or Gale, or Wyll. Hells, she may not be able to touch you, but Karlach would undoubtedly have a better bedside manner. Besides Lae’zel he was the worst person suited for this. Gods, what was he even doing here? 

You took a sharp intake of breath, flinching away from something only you could see. 

He was on his knees the next second. 

Your body settled, but your breathing came hard and fast. At least it wasn’t rasping. 

His hands hovered over you, unsure of what to do. He had officially given up on the idea of leaving. He’d just have to improvise the rest. 

Hesitantly, he let his fingers brush across your forehead, pushing aside a few of the loose strands. You were hot to the touch, but he took comfort in the fact you weren’t sweating as you were before. Whatever had taken hold of you that morning, it seemed to have loosened its grip. 

You began to calm, a soft murmur of contentment stumbling from your lips. 

The irony was not lost on him, but it didn’t stop a part of him from melting at the sound. 

“Now that’s hardly playing fair, darling,” he whispered. “I’m trying to be angry with you.”

You didn’t answer except for a sigh as you turned your head, following his touch. 

He allowed himself to linger for a moment before placing the back of his hand against your skin to feel it properly. You really were much too warm. The relief you were expressing no doubt came more from his body temperature than his caresses. 

Slowly, he pulled away as he glanced around the small space. There had to be a water skin in here somewhere. Surely the idiots would know better than to leave you to burn yourself from the inside out. 

A soft groan caught his attention as he spun back to you. 

You shifted under the blankets, rolling back and forth as if to get loose of your cocoon. Your eyes darted quickly behind your lids. Another huff of breath and then, all at once, there you were.

“Tav?” he breathed. 

Your eyes were bleary. Your skin was sallow. Your hair was a mess. Everything around him smelled of sweat and sick. And for a moment, he swore he could feel his heart beat again. 

A hint of a smile touched the corner of your mouth, your brows rising slightly. 

“Tav? Must be pretty bad then.”

He had to laugh. It was a short, strangled thing, and just about the only thing he could do to keep the stinging in his eyes at bay.

“Worse,” he said, managing to gain some hold on himself. “Of course, it must be said, your worse is most best.” 

You huffed out a small laugh of your own, which quickly turned into a series of dry coughs. 

He straightened in alarm before quickly spotting the water skin hanging on the center pole of the tent. Thankfully it was full, allowing him to waste no time lifting your head as he guided the water into your mouth. 

As soon as the liquid met your tongue you scrambled for more, pushing yourself further up to guzzle the rest. 

“Easy,” he warned, pulling back the container. “Can’t have you choking to death after all of that.”

You gave a slight sputter, proving his point as you caught your breath.  “Sorry. Just thirsty.” 

“Clearly,” he quipped. “Do you need more?”

You averted your eyes, your expression turning suddenly sheepish. “Please?”

As tempting as it was, he decided to save his teasing for later.  It was always more fun when you could give it right back anyway. 

He lifted your head, resting it on his lap before guiding the lip of the lid back to yours. 

“Slowly this time,” he cautioned.  

Your muscles tensed with restraint, but you followed his lead, taking no more than he gave. 

He tried to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. His mind flickered to his own thirst and, for a moment, he could see his own desperation reflected in your eyes. 

Something stirred inside him; an ache he didn’t recognize. He’d do just about anything to keep that look from marring your face ever again. 

Once you’d gotten a few more mouthfuls he pulled the water skin away, setting it down on the floor beside you. 

“Thank you,” you said, your voice still a little rough, but an obvious improvement. 

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “To anyone.”

“Don’t worry, nobody would believe me anyway,” you teased. 

“Truer words.” 

Without really thinking, he let his palm rest on your forehead. He had already gotten a sense of your temperature, but the way your eyes closed as you relaxed into his touch was too good to pass up.   

“How are you feeling?” he asked. 

“Like a band of goblins decided to make a riot of my insides,” you admitted, before turning your gaze upward. “What about you?”

“Me?”

Your mouth turned in an apologetic half smile. “No offense, but you look a bit ragged. Did something happen?”

He blinked, surprised by the sudden flash of anger your question inspired. Of course he was a bit ragged. You had started this morning on the verge of death, the knowledge of which had been torturing him for near on…oh, who bloody cared how long. And yet you had the audacity to ask if something happened, as if that wasn’t enough; as if you weren’t enough.  

It must have shown on his face, as your brows furrowed in concern. 

“Astarion?”

He mentally shook himself, pushing down the emotion as best he could. 

“Don’t worry about me, darling. Let’s focus on getting you better.” 

You frowned, your lips parting as if to say something when the entrance of the tent burst open. 

“Hey, thought I heard your voice!” Karlach said, with a beaming smile. “Good to see you awake soldier. Told’em you’d bounce back, just a matter of time. Shadowheart! Gale! Tav’s awake! Astarion is with ‘em.”

Astarion prickled at the announcement. He didn’t need the entire camp knowing his business. He had decided to sneak back for a reason. Surely nobody had seen him. 

He got his answer, as Karlach turned back, lowering her voice. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “Noticed you slip in earlier. Thought I’d leave you to watch Tav, but then I heard talking and well…you know.” 

“Yes, thank you,” he clipped, hoping the note of embarrassment would be blamed on getting caught and not…other things. 

“Thanks Karlach,” you said, smoothing over any lingering tension. 

“Don’t even think about it. Few more rounds of healing and you’ll be right as rain.” She then turned her gaze to him. “You got’em?”

His brow furrowed slightly. He could say no. Gale and Shadowheart would need space to do their work. It would be the perfect excuse to walk away and try to forget any of this happened. 

He glanced down at you, your head still resting in his lap. 

You looked so fragile. It was a word he had never thought to use before when describing you. The sound of it rang with a dissonance that made his hair stand on end. Still you managed a half smile, your head tilting as silent permission to leave if he wanted. 

And what exactly would he do if he left; wait in the dark, just as helpless as before. He may not be able to do much, but he could do this. It was better than nothing. 

He turned back to Karlach, his purpose clear. “I’ve got them.”

She didn’t say anything back, simply nodding in acknowledgement before dipping out, and allowing Shadowheart and Gale to enter. 

Shadowheart immediately took a place beside you, her hands glowing with magic as she got to work. Gale, meanwhile, remained standing seemingly unsure of what to do. 

Astarion couldn’t help but notice the way the wizard’s eyes shifted awkwardly between you and him. Some petty part of him felt vindicated in staying. Apparently he had taken his designated spot. 

“Glad to see you awake,” Shadowheart said. 

“So am I, funny enough,” you said. “What happened?”

“Nasty bit of business,” Gale explained. “That hag didn’t hold anything back. Combination of cause fear, ray of sickness, a few other bits of spell work and bestowed curse to keep them all knotted together. The healing magic Shadowheart gave you last night was able to mend your physical wounds, but little else. 

“Luckily once we were able to identify the spells, I was able to untangle most of the effects and pluck that curse right out. All told, it looked much worse than it was. With the hag dead, it appears your body has been able to fight off most of the remaining effects on its own. Honestly, if you were at full capacity at the start of the fight, it likely wouldn’t have gotten as bad as it did. Much easier to recover when all your blood is inside your body.” 

Gale’s eyes flicked over to Astarion. 

His jaw clenched, knowing full well what the wizard was implying, but he wasn’t about to admit he was right. 

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I take an arrow to the shoulder,” you said, dryly. “Just don’t bleed.”

Shadowheart gave a short laugh. “Good to see your sense of humor is intact.”

Astarion and Gale broke eye contact allowing whatever argument was about to ensue to die on their lips. There were more important things to worry about. 

“What can I say, I’m a born entertainer,” you said, ruefully before turning your gaze evenly among the three of them. “I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble.” 

“No trouble at all,” Gale assured. “When compared to Karlach’s engine or my own condition, this is little more than a sniffle.” He glanced over to Shadowheart. “Anything I can do?”

“Honestly, there’s not much even I can do at this point,” she admitted. “We’ll just have to see how you feel in the morning. One of us should stay with you at least, in case something happens.”

“I’ll do it,” Astarion said, earning shocked looks from both spellcasters.  He did so particularly love the look on Gale’s face. 

“You’re sure?” Gale said, skeptically. 

He gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’m not planning to sleep much anyway. And don’t worry, I’m just as capable of yelling as anyone else in this camp. Besides, I doubt either of you are going to be much use to anyone in a few hours.”

Gale looked like he wanted to argue, but not before you spoke up.

“He has a point,” you said. “The pair of you have done enough as is. I’m feeling a lot better already. I’ll be fine.” 

“Alright,” Gale relented, with a grimace. “There’s some stew in that container there if you get hungry. See if you can keep some food down. And if they so much as twitch in their sleep–”

“I’ll handle it,” Astarion cut off with a sharpness that left no room for dispute. 

Gale appeared taken aback. So did Shadowheart for that matter, but Astarion couldn’t bring himself to care. You had in a very polite, roundabout way told them to leave. His job was to make it clear how much better that would be for everyone’s health. 

Both Gale and Shadowheart got the message, ducking out without another word. 

Astarion waited, counting down a solid minute to make sure nobody else would come barging in. Only when he was certain they were gone did he finally allow his body to relax. 

“You don’t have to stay.”

He pulled his attention back to you, his brows furrowing. 

 “I really am feeling a lot better,” you insisted. “I’ll be alright.”

His instinct was to argue. He wasn’t in the mood for any more quiet heroics from you, but something in your eyes gave him pause. 

“Do you want me to go?” he asked. 

“I…” You swallowed. The emotion in your voice was clear even from that one word. “You don’t–”

“Do you want me to go?” he repeated. 

For a long moment, you didn’t say a word. 

He waited for the predictable guilt to appear, an obvious sign of your irritating selflessness with maybe an apology thrown in on the side. There were hints of it, yes, but something else lingered, moving across your features despite your best efforts to bury it away. 

“No,” you confessed, with a yearning deeper than he felt he had any right to know. 

He thought back on what you told him, the bits and pieces you shared about your life. It was never obvious, just comments that slipped through, as if by accident. 

You didn’t know your mother. Your father was little more than a memory. You never mentioned any siblings. A flurry of names and faces filled your stories from across Faerun, but they never stayed the same between tellings. Now that he gave it proper thought, he couldn’t think of a single one of them you had named friend. 

He had to wonder how many nights you suffered through a fever alone, how many times you bandaged your own wounds and kept your own company on long nights in the middle of nowhere. 

You hadn’t given him permission to go out of the kindness of your heart. You had expected him to. You just wanted to give yourself the illusion of control over when. 

And yet, you asked him to stay. 

“Well, that settles it,” he soothed. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Your lips parted as if to say something more, but you closed it again swallowing the words back down. 

He counted himself grateful. He was liable to say any number of foolish things if you let him. 

Slowly, your eyes began to droop as sleep overcame you once more. 

As promised, he didn’t move, not daring to so much as shift your head. 

Maybe…maybe this was your price. He couldn’t be sure. He doubted he would ever be sure of anything with you, but maybe this was what you wanted; somebody to care. 

It was a dangerous notion. He had never provided anything real before. The concern he felt for you now was against his will. If he started caring for you on purpose, who knew where that might lead; the things he would be willing to do, all for you. 

He blinked the thought away. He was getting ahead of himself. A little went a long way, especially with you. Honestly, it would be almost too easy; a kind word here, a helpful hand there, and he would have you curled around his finger in no time. It wasn’t so different from what he had done before. All he needed to do was not care anymore than he already did. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He could stop any time he wanted. 

It was the thought that kept him through the night, the one he repeated to himself as he came as close to holding you as he dared. 

He had a plan now. What could possibly go wrong? 

Taglist: @bambamwolf87

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #asexual!tav #asexual!reader #bard!tav #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie

[tongue-like-a-razor]

hangman request incoming ‼️‼️

so the reader is best friends w rooster and whenever she’s around hangman he’s always quite rude to her, only bc he’s harbouring huge feelings for her which he isn’t very used to. then maybe he goes too far and rooster needs to talk some sense into him (reader could be a pilot or just a close friend of rooster’s)

SORRY i’m not great and giving requests but i hope there’s something in there that you like !

Ahhhh I LOVE this request!! And I really loved writing this piece, which may or may not turn into a series.. oops I couldn't resist haha

Less Talk | Part I

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.

CW: mild angst, Hangman being a dick aka Hangman being himself, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, drinking

Masterlist

“Do you ever not have an opinion?” Jake watches you irritably before taking a long swig of his drink. He needs the alcohol to calm his nerves so that he doesn’t inadvertently push you off your chair.

You glare at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A nice, safe space for Seresin to dominate the conversation without opposition.”

Jake lets out a steady breath. No one riles him quite like you do. “We’re talking about food, Y/N. It doesn’t exactly have global ramifications.”

“Actually, it does,” you respond matter-of-factly. “And are you saying I shouldn’t have an opinion unless it is ground-breaking in nature? Maybe I should just sit here quietly and look pretty.”

“Ha!” Jake cackles. “I would love to see you try.”

“Hangman!” Bradley, who’s sitting to your right, gives him a disapproving look.

You make a grimace. “I will never give you that kind of satisfaction.”

Jake meets your gaze with a hostile look. The thought of you satisfying him in any way sort of disorients him. He makes a face at you because he can’t deny that if you were to just sit there in silence, you would be exceptionally pleasant to look at. Pretty, even… maybe. Instead, he says, “How the fuck does eating avocado toast for lunch have global implications? I would love to know.”

“The recent surge in consumption of avocados - thanks to health nuts such as yourself - has led to an unprecedented increase in price to the point where those people whose culinary staple for generations has been the avocado cannot afford to keep it their diet.” You fold your arms over your chest to drive your point home while Jake just stares at you, speechless. No other woman in the world has ever rendered him that. He glances over at Bradley who is looking back at him with a slight grin. Just when Jake thinks you might be all talked out, you add, “And don’t even get me started on the environmental burden of growing enough avocados to sustain the whole of North America’s health culture.”

Jake blinks at you. “Trust me, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“The avocado trade is contributing to local violence and extortion” – you continue, but Jake cuts you off.

“Okay, okay!” he says. “I’ll never eat an avocado again.”

“Just quit spreading your avocado propaganda!”

“It’s not propaganda! They’re actually good for you!”

“How wonderful it must be living in a world where your needs come before everybody else’s,” you say bitterly.

“Can we please talk about something other than avocados?” he says tiredly, his eyes sliding to Bradley in a plea for assistance.

“If you’re looking for a topic on which I do not have an opinion” – you say, but Jake interrupts you again.

“Does such a topic exist?” he asks flatly.

You roll your eyes at him. “Did you ever think that maybe you’re the one who should talk less?”

Jake nods. “Certainly. I should talk less to you. Because you’re driving me crazy, lady.” He stands up after having downed the rest of his drink. “I’m getting another beer and, when I return, I’m going to have a conversation with my good friend here, Rooster.”

Bradley shakes his head and looks over at you. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a bitter, bitter man.”

“A bitter man who needs to be schooled on occasion,” you mutter.

Jake turns to look at you with wide eyes. He slides back into his seat. “I heard that,” he says dangerously, inclining into the table.

“Good,” you respond, leaning forward so that your noses are nearly touching. “You were meant to.”

“You are so fucking annoying,” he whispers, his eyes slipping momentarily to your mouth as you lick your lips.

“Hangman, come on, don’t be a dick,” Bradley says, also putting his weight into the table in an attempt to intervene.

Jake’s eyes are still scanning your face as you glare at him without moving away. The truth is, he could probably listen to you talk about the problematic export of Mexican avocados for hours just to watch your mouth move and to hear the passion in your voice. But he’s tired of the tunnel vision he experiences every time your boyfriend ditches you and you end up going out with your best friend, Bradley Bradshaw. This is the fifth time this month that you’ve accompanied Rooster to ‘guys’ night out’ and it’s becoming more and more difficult for Jake to shake you after each successive evening of relentless verbal sparring.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jake can see Bradley slowly inching off the table, having realized that he may be a third wheel. But Jake doesn’t need him to be some sort of wingman in this bizarre scenario where he may or may not be completely in love with an unavailable woman who happens to be an expert at pushing all his goddamn buttons. Normally, he would remedy this kind of matter with a good old romp in the hay but, considering the fact that you are in a relationship, this option is, unfortunately, off the table. Besides, he’s not entirely sure it wouldn’t have the opposite effect on him, anyway.

But, despite all the reasons for avoiding your pull, Jake can’t look away, not even for a second; not even to get another beer. He moves his face a millimeter closer to yours, just to see what would happen; not because your breath smells like Peach Schnapps and not because your eyes are absolutely destabilizing him. His nose is about a split second away from brushing yours when your phone buzzes on the table. You flinch, withdrawing immediately, leaving Jake to watch you try to frantically pick it up. You shoot him one last intimidating look before rising from the table.

“Hey, babe,” he hears you say as you walk away.

“What’s your deal, man?” Bradley says as Jake watches you step outside.

Jake shakes his head solemnly. “Doesn’t she have other friends to play with?” he asks. “Why’re you always babysitting her?”

Bradley fixes Jake with a knowing look. “Hangman,” he says with a suggestive squint to his eye. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Jake stares at Bradley. “Yeah,” he says. “I want to tell you that your bestie is a pain in the ass, Rooster.”

Bradley’s jaw hardens. “You’re way out of line.”

“Come on, I can’t be the only one who finds her absolutely infuriating. The girl never shuts up!”

Bradley narrows his eyes. “And you don’t, at all, find that sort of thing attractive?” he says sarcastically.

“Attractive? I find it immensely aggravating, actually.”

“So aggravating that you argue right back every time,” Bradley points out with a smirk. “Movies, books, social constructs. Last week, I heard you guys bickering about space waste. What do you even know about space?”

“What does she know about space?” Jake responds angrily, pointing toward the door with his entire arm.

Bradley leans back in his seat with a sigh. “I know that you don’t actually hate her, Jake,” he says. “You can stop pretending.”

“Who’s pretending?” Jake looks up at him aggressively.

Bradley purses his lips. “What if I told you that her boyfriend is a shithead?”

Jake’s jaw tightens but he continues to stare at Bradley coldly. “Why the fuck would I care?” he says.

Bradley returns his callous expression before looking away. “Been trying to get her out of that relationship for months.”

Jake lets out a sigh. “She’s a grown-ass woman, she can decide for herself if she wants to end it.”

Bradley nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Jake rises from his seat, his eyes unintentionally drifting up to check if you’re still outside. He sees you pacing back and forth through the big window of the bar. You look like you’re arguing. Big surprise. “Want another beer?” he asks Bradley.

“Please,” Bradley says.

Jake nods at the cocktail you’ve been drinking. “She going to have another one?”

Bradley shrugs. “Probably, unless you’ve pissed her off enough that she decides to leave early.”

Jake scoffs. “She’d be doing me a favor.”

Bradley shakes his head with a laugh. “I don’t even know what she’s drinking, man.”

Jake shifts his jaw. “I do.”

Bradley gives him another piercing look. “Shocking,” he says with a smirk.

“Shut the fuck up, Bradshaw,” Jake says under his breath as he walks away. He glances back at the window behind which you’re now waving your arm around aggressively and yelling into the phone. He tears his gaze away from you, frustrated with himself for even giving a damn.

For some reason, he feels a painful pang in his chest, like he’s jealous of whomever it is you’re tearing into. You’ve never gone off on him quite like that and he can’t help the resentment this fosters. He tries to suppress the impulse to go out after you and rip your stupid phone right out of your hand. That would surely reclaim at least a fraction of your attention. Then maybe he could do something unexpected; something that might persuade you to channel your passion in a more constructive way.

He orders three drinks and walks back to the table with the beers before going back for your cocktail. When he returns, he exhales sharply, giving Bradley a humorless look. “Why’s her boyfriend a shithead?” he says, feeling his hands forming into fists before Bradley even has a chance to respond.

But, right when Bradley’s about to speak, you walk back into the bar.

Read Part 2

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this piece! It's my first Hangman story, so let me know what you think!

General Top Gun Tag List:

Feel free to let me know if you no longer wish to be on this list!

@malindacath

@karleetakeenan

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#jake seresin #hangman #top gun #glen powell #jake seresin x reader #hangman top gun #hangman angst #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #top gun hangman #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x y/n #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #hangman imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun fic

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 13

<-----part 12, part 14----->

“You have a lovely home Mrs. Y/N.” “Why thank you Mrs. Jackson.” I spoke while drinking some tea I made. It was the home inspection today and even though everything seemed to be going well I was a nervous wreck. “Everything seems to be in order as far as safety measures; remind me how old is Damian?” While setting down my teacup I said, “He is seven years old but will be eight tomorrow.” I couldn’t help but smile big. I plan on telling him for his birthday tomorrow. “Happy early birthday to him. Now comes the boring part; the questions. I’m going to go down my list and you just answer truthfully alright?” I nodded my head. “Good, now let us begin.” 

At first, she just went through how the interviews went with my family which thankfully my mom was on her best behavior and didn’t give her crap about me. Next, she asked me when my birthday was to ensure I knew it and for my birth certificate to verify that I was twenty-one. “Now Mrs. Y/N, how long have you and your husband been together?” She asked me that while I was taking a sip of my tea which caused me to almost spit it out. I set down my cup and said, “I’m not married Mrs. Jackson.” She looked up at me before looking over to my wall where mine and DogDays picture was. Why do people keep assuming that me and DogDay are married by that one photo?! “Oh, I apologize Ms. Y/n. Normally it’s couples that adopt, not just one person.” “Technically me and him are a couple just not married.” “I see.” She scribbled down something on her clipboard before going on with the questions. 

--------------- 

“Were the questions really that horrible Angel?” DogDay asked me. We were both by the duck pond watching our group play red light, green light. I sighed and said, “Maybe not horrible but long. She asked about my motivation for wanting to adopt, my fertility, childhood, family relationships, financial situation, criminal history, my history of residence, if I knew any other languages, my health, religion, if I knew how to discipline a child, understanding abuse and neglect. My god I should’ve just written a book about myself and had her read it!”  

DogDay chuckled as I threw my hands up in the air. “It’ll all be worth it in the end Angel.” “Yeah, I know.” I looked over and saw Damian was now the one in charge of the game. “Have anything planned for Damian tomorrow?” DogDay shook his head no. “He doesn’t really like celebrating his birthday. The last time we celebrated it was when he was five. After that he asked if we could just pretend that his birthday doesn’t exist, but I always give him a card.” I frowned as I listened to DogDay speak. “Did he ever tell you why to stop celebrating it?” DogDay shrugged his shoulders and said, “My guess is because it’s a reminder that another year has passed and he’s still here.” I guess I could see where Damian was coming from. 

I cleared my throat before saying, “Speaking about being here, do you ever wish you could leave?”DogDay chuckled and laid down on the grass looking up at the ceiling. I followed his actions and laid down as well. “All the time Angel. Now that I have you, more than ever.” He grabbed onto my hand and squeezed it. I turned my head, looked at him, and smiled. “Oh? And just what would you want to do if you could leave?” “Let’s see, well I’d like to take you on a date, go on car rides, run around at the park. Really do anything with you Angel. Oh, and play soccer with Damian, he loves soccer.”  

I turned my head back up towards the ceiling. Now knowing that Damian liked soccer it gave me a theme to decorate his room. “If someone were to, I don’t know, buy you out from here how would you feel about that?” DogDay looked over to me with a surprised look before saying, “Are you saying you’d buy me out of Playtime Angel?” I sat up and leaned against my hands while saying, “Well I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t really know if I could, but it doesn’t hurt to ask right?” DogDay gave me a soft smile. It looked like he was going to say something but then a kid yelled out, “Miss DogDay!” 

Mine and DogDays head turned toward the child. “We wanna play hide and seek!” I got up from the ground and walked over to Aaron, the little boy who called out to me. “We can play hide and seek after your guy's nap time, okay?” “Yay!” Aaron took off screaming in delight. I then felt a kiss on top of my head. “You’re gonna be a great mom Angel.”  I looked up at him and smiled. "You think so?" "I know so. In fact you'll be a great mom to Damain and to our very own kid." "Thank you- wait what?!"

--------------- 

“Thank you for coming to see me Ms. Y/N.” I took a seat inside Stellas’ office, not sure why she called me in. “May I ask what this is about?” She reached in her desk and pulled out a file. While she handed me the file she said, “Please read this over and tell me what this is.” I slowly opened the file and started reading what was inside. I only read the first few words before realizing what this was. “This is the email I got when I was hired.” “Yes, it is. Oh, before I forget; congratulations. Damian is now legally yours.”  

My eyes widened. “Really?! That’s wonderful!” Even though she just told me that Damian was now legally mine the atmosphere in the room was still off. “Is there something else Stella?” She took off her glasses and said, “Yes. Please flip through and read what I have highlighted.” I did what she told me, and I found where she had highlighted. As I started reading my eyes grew wide. I looked up at her and said, “I can’t work here anymore?!”  

She nodded her head. She also looked sad from this. “I’m sorry Ms. Y/N, but that is company policy. If you adopt a child here while employed, that person must resign from here. I’m really sorry.”  

--------------- 

I sat in my bed while looking at the file. I can’t believe that I had to quit! Don’t get me wrong, I’m still happy that I was able to get Damian, but now I have to leave my friends behind. And DogDay....  

My phone started ringing and I saw that it was DogDay calling me. I answered the phone while wiping away some tears. “Hey Angel!” “Hi.” “You never told me what Ms. Stella wanted to see you about.” “Oh, she was just telling me that I can take Damian. He’s now legally mine.” “That’s amazing Angel!” I stayed quiet. I felt like if I talked, I would start crying even more. “Angel? What’s wrong?” A part of me wanted to tell him the other news that I got but I couldn’t. “Nothing, just a little tired from today.” I don’t know if he really believed me or not, but he didn’t question me any further. “Oh well then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Angel. Sleep well, I love you.” “I love you too.”  

I ended the call and leaned my head back against my headboard. I didn’t want to lose DogDay, but I really wasn’t sure if he could be bought out. Suddenly an idea popped in my head. It was risky, heck even stupid, but it could work. I set an alarm on my phone for 2 a.m. and went on my laptop to see if there was any nearby land to buy. 

A/N: What do you think Angel is going to do?

#sinnersweets #x reader #poppy playtime #dogday #dogday x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3

[theemporium]

🧸with Carlos please where his daughter brings home a cat (we all know how he feels about cats), but he becomes the definition of “dad who doesn’t want a cat but loves the cat more than anyone in the house”

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“ARABELLA!”

A soft giggle could be heard before the sound of footsteps pattering towards the living room could be heard. It took less than thirty seconds before his daughter showed up in front of him, the look of pure innocence on her face as she looked up at him.

“Yes, Daddy?”

Carlos shot his daughter a look before pointing at the ball of orange fur sitting on the couch—on his spot on the couch. “What is that?”

“It’s a cat, Daddy,” Arabella said with a small giggle, like she couldn’t believe her father was actually asking. “The one that goes meow.”

“Yes, I—” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “What is it doing in the house?”

“He was alone,” Arabella said, her lips turning downwards into a pout and he could already feel his walls crumbling at the sight. “Mummy helped me give him a bath! He’s clean, I promise.”

“Did she now?” Carlos grumbled as he placed his hands on his hips, glaring at the small orange cat like that alone would make him disappear. “He can’t stay. We have to find him a new home.”

Arabella pouted. “But—”

“No buts,” Carlos shook his head. “We will find him a loving home, mi princesa, but he cannot stay with us.”

And Carlos had planned to stay adamant on the matter. He wasn’t a cat man. He didn’t like them. He didn’t see the appeal in them. They weren’t as friendly or social or loving as dogs. They were far from a man’s best friend, more like a man’s slightly temperamental roommate. He was not a cat man and he refused to house that cat in his house longer than he needed to.

However, finding the cat a loving home without putting it in a shelter seemed more difficult than he assumed. Days would pass, and the orange cat—now named Chilli, ironically enough—was overstaying his visit. He learnt to co-exist with the creature, but he refused to interact with it unless it was needed.

Or at least, that was what he told you.

He had complained about Chilli every night before bed. He would talk about all the annoying things he had done. He told you about all the ways the cat inconvenienced him. But if anything, it seemed like he was trying to convince himself that he hated the cat with the amount of pictures on his phone. 

And then you had returned home after picking up Arabella from school to see the sight in front of you.

“Mama,” the young girl tugged on your sleeve and excitedly pointed at the couch. “Look at Daddy and Chilli!” 

You snorted, already reaching for your phone. “I can see them, honey.”

“Ay,” Carlos grumbled, one hand raised to cover his face whilst the other rested on the back of Chilli. “What’s all the noise?” 

“Are we ruining your cat nap?” You teased, watching as the boy’s eyes snapped open to stare at the sleeping cat on his chest before they shut again.

“This means nothing,” he told you.

“Uh huh.”

“I mean it,” Carlos continued. 

“Right.”

“It just happened,” he assured you.

“If you say so. But there is another family looking—”

“No.”

You raised your brows. “No?”

“Chilli is a Sainz now. Even if he is annoying,” Carlos muttered before biting back a yawn. “Now let us sleep in peace, please.”

.

#cece's slumblurb party #carlos sainz #formula one #f1 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights cuddling for comfort, but also they're oblivious idiots who are pining over each other but thinks its unrequited

“Ugh,” Duke says, dropping down onto the bench besides Danny.

Danny nudges him with his shoulder. “Rough night?”

“Slept for like an hour,” Duke mutters, “This sucks. My head’s going to burst like balloon and my eyes are about to fall out.”

“Yikes. You know, you could have just canceled for today. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Duke sighs and presses the heel of his palms against his eyes. “Maybe, but I would have minded. We barely see each other anymore, man. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh.” Danny bites his lip, trying and failing to stop from smiling. Something soft in his chest glows at the words, a growing spark of happiness in knowing that for this, at least, the feeling is requited. It’s nice to hear that he was missed, and it would be even nicer if Duke wasn’t in pain, pushing himself just because he didn’t want to cancel. Carefully, Danny reaches for him and pulls his hands away from his face. “Here,” he says, “Let me.”

His hands are always cold. Most of him is cold, really — side effect of having an ice core. Sam told him once that his hands were better than an ice pack, and he’s hoping she’s right or this is going to be weird. 

Danny gently presses his fingers against Duke’s temples, his hands cradling Duke’s face. Duke is tense for a few seconds, then abruptly relaxes, leaning into Danny’s hands. 

“Is this helping?” he asks, voice hushed to keep from aggravating Duke’s migraine.

“Mhm. Yeah, it feels great. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke goes completely limp, leaning against Danny. They sit there for a minute in silence, the rest of the world feeling far away. As nice as it is to just exist together, he knows what Duke needs most right now is quiet and stillness. Gotham is very much not that, and every honking car that passes by makes Duke wince, trying to turn away from the road even more.

“Hey, let’s head back to my place. It’s close by, and a lot quieter than out here.”

“Are you sure? I know we planned to go to the arcade today…”

“The arcade can wait. You’re more important.”

Duke blinks open his eyes and looks at Danny with something soft in his gaze. Being so close together, barely any space between them, with Duke looking at him like that makes Danny’s cheeks flush red, unable to think anything but please kiss me.

Which is never going to happen. Duke is his friend, and just his friend, no matter how much Danny wishes they could be something more. It’s a pipe dream, something so impossible it’s almost laughable. 

Duke likes being friends with normal human Danny. He doesn’t want to imagine how he would react if he found out about Danny being half ghost, assuming this imaginary reveal happens without Danny being hunted down and cut open by GIW agents. 

He’s still in hiding, always waiting for the worst as he stays in the apartment his friends (living and dead) had set up for him. The building is for ghosts so it technically doesn’t exists, which means it’s the safest place for Danny while he’s actively being hunted by the US government. 

He can’t be honest with Duke. Can’t be as close to him as he wants to be. Duke deserves more than to be dragged into Danny’s problems and put in danger.

Even so, Danny can’t help but want him around, pushing his luck each time they hang out.

“Come on,” Danny urges, standing up. He pulls his hands away and Duke’s brow immediately furrows, his pain returning. “It’s only a few streets away.”

Duke sighs, then visibly braces himself before he stands up. Danny tucks himself into Duke’s side, taking as much of his weight as he can as he walks them down the street. It’s times like these that he wishes he could reveal his powers safely and just fly them to his apartment. But even without the GIW gunning for his head, showing off powers in Gotham is a sure fire way to get a target painted on his back.

“Almost there,” he says as they turn a corner. 

His apartment doesn’t have a fixed address. It doesn’t have a fixed location at all, drifting around, but it likes this street the most, so this is where it usually is. Danny takes them halfway down the street, then turns into an alley, following his ghost sense. 

Where there’s usually a dead end is instead a building, looking as if it’s always been tucked away in this alley. Danny keeps a tight grip on Duke as they climb the front steps, silently asking for the building to let him stay while he’s with Danny. The door opens easily, which is as good as an agreement, and they’re inside without anything going wrong. The small entrance lobby is empty, with an area for packages filled with clearly magical artifacts carelessly wrapped in bubble wrap. 

Danny drags them past that quickly, hoping Duke doesn’t notice, and calls the elevator down. It arrives silently, the doors opening to let another tenant out. Carefully, Danny positions himself in front of Duke, making sure he doesn’t see how the tenant, who nods at Danny, has a still bleeding wound in his stomach that has him nearly split in half. 

“Alright,” he says, ushering Duke into the elevator, “Just a little ride up and then you can lay down.” He hits the button for the fourth floor and they ride up in silence, Duke dropping his head down to onto Danny’s shoulder again, wrapping his arms around his waist as he stands behind Danny. He’s glad Duke can’t see his face; there’s no doubt that he’s blushing like crazy and if that doesn’t give away his feelings, he doesn’t know what will.

Thankfully the elevator ride isn’t long. If Danny had to go for more than a minute with Duke breathing softly against his neck, his warm hands on his stomach, Danny would have collapsed into a pile of flustered goo.

He opens the door to his apartment and kicks his shoes off. Duke follows in suit, still plastered onto Danny’s back, refusing to let go. 

“Come on,” Danny says, leading him to the couch, “Sit down and I’ll grad you some water and painkillers.”

Duke nods against his shoulder, then slowly detaches himself from Danny and makes his way to the couch. He drops onto it gracelessly, pressing his face into a cushion. 

Danny winces. He must be feeling really bad. He knows how bad migraines can be with sleep deprivation, having suffered through high school with only a few hours of sleep at night, if he got to sleep at all. Frankly, it’s a testament to Duke’s strength that he lasted the entire walk to Danny’s apartment without complaint. 

He returns to the living room with a full glass of water and a bottle of Advil, setting them on the coffee table to crouch next to the couch and place a cold hand on Duke’s cheek. “Hey,” he says softly when Duke turns to look at him, “Is Advil alright? It’s all I had.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke sits up and shakes out three pills, then washes them down with water. He drains the rest of the cup quickly, then falls back against the couch with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?”

Duke immediately reaches a hand out for him.

“Um?”

“Sit next to me. I feel better when I’m next to you.”

“Oh! Alright. Bet you’re only saying that because my hands are cold.”

“You caught me,” Duke laughs, pulling Danny onto the couch. He goes easily, tucking his legs beneath himself, and places his hands on Duke’s temples again. “Man, I owe you my life.”

“I don’t think my cold hands are worth quite that much.”

Duke hums, but doesn’t say anything else, so Danny settles in and focuses on keeping his hands a little colder than normal. 

The apartment is quiet. No sound from outside can reach them, one of the few ways the building looks after its tenants. Danny and Duke fall against each other, at ease with each other. There’s no need to fill in the silence, and with Duke’s eyes closed, Danny doesn’t have to carefully shove down his feelings and act normal. He indulges in the warmth of Duke’s body pressed against his, a hand on his knee and an arm around his waist. 

He keeps his hands as steady as possible as he looks over Duke, adoring all the little details he can see; a small scar on his chin, the fullness of his lips, the way his hair falls into his face now that it’s long enough to keep in braids.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Duke murmurs, “What’s on your mind?”

You’re cute, he thinks, I feel safe with you. I want to kiss you. I wish I could be brave enough to be honest.

I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave.

“Nothing,” he says. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I might fall asleep though.”

“That’s fine. You know I would never say no to a nap.”

“Come here, then,” Duke says, and before Danny can do anything, Duke gets a stronger grip on his waist and pulls Danny down on top of him as he falls back towards the arm rest and gets his legs on the couch.

“Duke!”

Duke laughs underneath him, and Danny can feel it roll through him. Okay! This is definitely something he’s going to think about… forever. Wow, he can feel Duke’s abs tense up as he laughs, and has he always been ripped? Unfair. Also unfairly hot. 

“Is this alright?” Duke asks, voice soft and quiet. There’s a hesitancy around his words that Danny doesn’t like hearing, and he brings his hands down to sweep his thumbs soothingly over Duke’s cheeks.

“Of course it is, man. I’d never refuse cuddles.”

“Okay. I’m gonna pass out now. Wake me in an hour?”

Danny moves his hands back up to his temples and says, “Sure. Get some rest, Duke. You really need it.”

He feels Duke relax beneath him, breaths slowing down as he begins to fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet and Duke is warm in a way Danny never can be with his ice core. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but curled up on the couch with Duke in the safety of an apartment that only barely exists has him drifting off in no time at all.

. . .

(Duke wakes up before Danny. Their legs are tangled together and Duke has moved during his sleep, turning so Danny is held tightly to his chest, his back to the cushions, while Duke is balancing very carefully at the edge of the couch. 

It’s been hours, and he should be heading home soon, but he stays as he is, enjoying this quiet moment for as long as he can have it. Danny is in his arms, safe and content with him, his head no longer hurts beyond a residual ache he can easily ignore, and he can admire how pretty Danny is without being worried about Danny catching his lingering stares. 

These moments are precious to him, rare as they are, and he wants nothing more than to kiss Danny once he’s awake and let his feelings be known.

But the Signal has lots of dangerous people after him, and Gnomon has started causing problems in Gotham again. So he’ll bite his tongue and keep his less platonic feelings buried under lock and key until it’s safe enough for Danny to be around him more often.

And when that time comes, he can only hope that Danny will feel the same way.

That’s all far away from the stillness of Danny’s apartment. All that matters is that he has Danny in his arms. Everything else can wait. 

For now, this is more than enough.)

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dpxdc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #once again unable to resist the urge to write abt living buildings #duke and danny are pining no stop bc they're both like 'this is a bad time for a relationship/i have to keep too many secrets' etc etc #while also cuddling and going on dates that they dont call dates out loud and sighing wistfully when they think of each other #taking what small things they can while trying to hide their feelings.... #some other batfam member is going to stumble upon them in public and chat a bit w dukes friend #then walk away texting the group chat like 'hey duke and his friend are madly in love but too shy/stupid to do something abt it. #lets play cupid lol' and then theyre all trying to get duke and danny together #it gets to the point that every time they hang out it ends with them doing some nonsense to escape the batfam and their kind but unhinged #attempts to get them together #thanks for the prompt!!!

[weird-is-life]

You’re taking Steve requests? Say less 🥰

what about some codependent Steve and reader? like maybe they have to separate or something in the upside down, and he just can’t stand the idea without getting emotional. or maybe it’s more cutie but still sad (not upside down related) and he just doesn’t know how to not feel anxious when she isn’t around? maybe because she has helped him to recover from his bad PTSD, given like all the hell he’s put through?

Hii, ty for this request!!!! Hope this is okay🥰warnings: mentions of Upside-down, pet names, angsty, fluff, (0.5k)

"Sweetheart, I'm gonna need you to stay here," Steve feels like he might pass out after saying those words to you.

He hasn't been anywhere without you for so so long now. It's even a running joke with your friends, that you two can't exist without each other.

And to Steve it is true. He can't be without you, he just can't. Nor does he want to be without you.

But right now, even if he really, really, really doesn't want to, he needs you two to separate. He can't let you go to the Upside-down with him. You need to stay here. Far from the horrors of that other world.

"What? No, Steve, I'm coming with you guys," you argue, eyebrows drawn up in confusion from his words.

"No, you aren't," Steve says," listen, sweetheart. It pains me as much as it does you to make you stay here. I'll probably go crazy just thinking about you here without me. But-," Steve takes a big breath,"...but you have to stay here, where it's safe, yeah? I can't let anything happen to you."

Steve's glossy eyes are looking at you, waiting for you to say something.

"B-but what about you, Steve? What if something happens to you? You've been through so much already, " you say tearfully.

"Nothings will happen to me-"

"But-"

"Nothing will happen, love. I promise, I'll get home to you no matter what, you know I will," Steve takes your face into his hands and wipes the tears away.

You sniffle, " I hate this so much, Stevie."

"I know, I know, lovely," Steve says, pained," I hate it, too. But it's better this way, it just is."

Steve feels like he's been punched to the stomach, multiple times, seeing you so upset. His anxiety from leaving you isn't helping it at all. He feels like he might be sick.

That is until you throw yourself around his neck, hugging him oh so tightly. Steve squeezes your body closer to his, burying his face into your neck.

"You'll be back?" you whisper nervously into his chest.

"I'll be back, you're not getting rid of me this easily," Steve reassures you and his little joke makes you smile a bit.

"I don't want to ever get rid of you. Just want you home with me," you say honestly.

Steve doesn't respond to that, because there's no need for it. He just carefully pushes you away. You look extremely offended by it, until his lips are on yours.

That makes your frown go away and you kiss him back, you kiss him like your life depends on it.

Steve kisses you as he always does. He doesn't kiss you like it's the last time he's doing it, because he'll be back, no matter what. Just like he promised, he'd be.

"Steve, we gotta go," Eddie yells at him from another room, so you two very unwillingly pull apart.

Steve gives you one more smile and a quick kiss on your forehead, "I love you so much."

"I-I love you." You say with breathless voice.

Steve swiftly leaves after that, not wanting you to see his wobbly lip or his wet cheeks. But he also leaves with the determination to get back to you as soon as possible.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington