#what those thoughts are… :) it’s his secret

[hazelfoureyes]

Hi sorry if this is a weird ask but my birthday is the 24th and I would love it if I could wake up that morning to both Lucifer and Alastor absolutely ravishing reader. Just pure smut and aftercare please

I did fem reader I hope that’s okay, it’s who I write the most so I thought maybe you just wanted what I commonly wrote. sorry it’s a little late, and also shhh it’s a secret because I can’t write birthday stories for everyone due to time. But you were the first to ask and you asked so far in advance so—

Surprise!

「warnings/promises: Alastor x FemReader x Lucifer, smut, barely a plot, tug of war, you are the rope, slight kink with breath play and restraint, attempt at aftercare, lost balloons, mention of dead deer (roadkill)」

🎂 Minors please no 🎉 🎈 this an an 18+ only party 🥂

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when the typically reserved Alastor now (seemingly) tipsy invited you to his room. He was always touchy, but the more he drink the longer his hands would stay on you. So naturally you said nothing at all and followed him out of the parlor.

And you had no idea what to think when the King of Hell saw you being pulled by the wrist and stopped you both.

There was some bickering about where you were going and what Alastor thought he was doing. The overlord making a joke about height and size. The former angel mentioning experience. 

Soon both wrists were being held but by different demons.

Ripping you apart seemed like a possibility, but somehow you ended up in an even more difficult situation to accept than second death.

Both refusing to go to the other’s room you were dragged to your own. 

Arguing around you, you were moved and turned before Lucifer snapped his fingers and your clothes fell off you at the seams. You turned to see both men nude and slowly leading you to bed. No complaints, you enjoyed just following their directions.

You couldn’t be sure how they came to their final agreement but soon you were lying on top of Alastor, impressive cock rubbing against your clit and a large portion of your lower stomach as Lucifer was fucking you from behind. The way he angled did feel practiced, so the king of lies wasn’t bluffing earlier.

Alastor's body was so warm under yours, the leaking of his precum spreading across your skin with every thrust from Luci’s hips. Your swollen clit and wet lips were sliding up and down Alastor’s base, stroking him harshly as you had no power over the movement.

“Good girl,” Lucifer’s hands roamed down your body, “Let me hear your voice.”

You could barely speak, the feeling of Luci’s large cockhead dragging along your walls was keeping your mouth busy with moans.

Another surprise, Alastor’s arms coming up and wrapping around you tightly. Any space between you was gone. With your body immobilized except for where your hips moved as you were pierced by Lucifer, Alastor began to hump up against you for the chase of release. The faster he moved, the louder and more uncontrolled your noises became.

“Stop being selfish, roadkill.” A yank of your hips pulling you a little too harshly down on Lucifer, ass flush with his crotch. A small scream into the radio demon’s chest.

“Now those are pretty sounds.” Alastor said through gritted teeth, ignoring the devil entirely.

Another tug of war, but not with your wrists. One man’s hands on your waist holding you still so he could rut into your soft flesh. The other man’s hands on your hips so he could bring to meet every thrust into your now dripping cunt. 

“Ffuuuck,” Luci clamored on top of you, hips pistoning down like an animal with a singular unmet need. “Gonna cum.”

Why did he feel the need to tell you? You could feel him already pulsing as he pressed against your cervix. Yet the words alone sent a shot of electricity to your lap.

As Lucifer’s hips slowed, Alastor took the opportunity to regain control. It wasn’t clear if he knew how good it felt when he rubbed against you. You clenched around the still stiff and twitching cock buried in you and focused on the increasingly wet slip of Alastor’s shaft over your swollen clit. The pressure of Lucifer’s body weight pressing you down added a new level of arousal you hadn’t felt before, the feeling of being held down, of your breath being restricted just in the slightest. Quickly you found yourself reaching a breaking point, a small mountain you barely made it to the crest of before Alastor came across your stomach and his own, your chest not escaping the impressive shot. The small movements of his hips afterwards and the feeling of him cumming so much pushed you over the cliff and into your own orgasm. 

Lucifer hissed above you, “Woah, that’s— you’re gonna make me cum again if you keep squeezing like that.” With a pat to your ass he pulled out and dismounted. Your shakey arms you lifted yourself off of Alastor, who was already holding a towel and wiping his chest clean. He was muttering to himself about something, his face screwed up at the sight. When you fell face down back onto the bed Lucifer crawled over Alastor to sit just below the swell of your ass, hands rubbing up and down your back. A groan, a mix of pleasured massage and painful bullying of sore muscles.

He was shoved off of you, Alastor rolling you over gingerly to wipe at your stomach and attempt to get your blanket clean as well.

“Definitely worth the brief nudity, dear.” His usual smile soft, you were confident it was a compliment.

Lucifer popped up again, a jack in the box of human proportions, “You’re an ass.” He reached for you hand and rubbed circles into your palms as he spread out the often used muscles there. “Feeling okay?” You nodded, a chill coming over you.

Alastor’s turn now, a green glow and a snap and you found yourself clothed again. Not your clothes, but you didn’t particularly care. Alastor was back to his usual attire, but for some reason Lucifer remained stark naked except his large hat. Had it been there the entire time?

Before you could find the will to ask, the doors burst open with a loud blaring honk of an air horn, “SURPRISE!” The hotel staff and star resident cheered, “HAPPY BIR-,”

“What in the actual the fuck.” Angel pointed at the obvious.

“Dad!”

“Nah I’m out.” Husk let the balloons float to the ceiling and left.

Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes clenched with not-at-all hidden aggravation, “What the fuck, you were supposed to trick her into going to the library Alastor! We were waiting for like 30 minutes! Pendejo.” 

Alastor shrugged, “Eh I had a better idea.”

A loud noise above you, a kazoo having appeared in Lucifer’s mouth. His hands shot up with an exhausted excitement, “Happy Birthday!”

why do I love writing reader being walked in on??

#alastor x reader #lucifer magne x reader #radioapple #radioapple x reader #Hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x lucifer #alastor x you

[cupcakeinat0r]

Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3

pt. 6

The semester is almost over, and finals are just around the corner. Miguel and you had been tutoring students for test prep. Your help was greatly appreciated by Miguel, cutting his work basically in half, and he sees that you were good at it, too. It seems that paying attention in his class the whole year paid off. Granted, Miguel was fine as hell, so you never wanted to miss class.

You had to be honest, though, when you volunteered yourself to be Miguel’s little TA, you didn’t think it’d be this difficult. Is this what Miguel went through? For five years? Damn. Poor baby probably hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since he started this job. You didn’t know how he did it, and it’s only been your third day of tutoring. 

Not to mention that some students were, and you hate to admit it… incompetent. There were moments where you had to refrain from making certain faces toward students who acted like they hadn’t been to a single class of Miguel’s. But because you were so kind and patient, you sat with those few and made sure they left that hour feeling prepared for their final. Now you understood why Miguel’s temper was a bit short. Yours would be too if you had to deal with students who never put in any effort. Of course, some classmates also knew as much as you did, only needing the sessions for review.

Aside from tutoring, you and Miguel’s relationship was evolving. Your heated kiss in the lecture hall has been on Miguel’s mind non-stop, replaying the scene over and over again as a bedtime story for the past week. He couldn’t believe that his dreams were coming true. You had him whipped. That one kiss was what broke the dam, and now, Miguel was unleashing kisses on you. He’d sneak one in at every opportunity he had. Every little interaction would go something like this:

Say you were on your way to a session with a classmate, it’s early in the morning, the hall is empty, and no one is around other than Miguel who you consequently pass by as he leaves his private office. The scowl on his face immediately softens when he sees you, all done up pretty like always.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He still sounds as if he’s just woken up, his velvety timbre filling the quiet hall. It felt like you were Juliet and he was Romeo, forbidden lovers meeting in secret.

“Oh! Professor O’Hara-“A small squeal leaves your lips when he pulls you into his embrace, his brawny arms enveloping you completely. You giggle into his chest, your hands snaking up his soft belly and around toward his back, where they almost touch. “Calmate, mama, no one’s around,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a sweet kiss there. You breathe in and smell a manly musk from the fabric of his turtleneck. You had to lift your head from his chest or else Miguel would not stop kissing you all over. It was like there was no ‘off’ button, there was only ‘on’ when it came to you,

“Miguel, I’m already running late, they’re waiting for me!” You loudly whisper, only half-trying to push him away since he felt so warm and soft, but you really did need to go.

“Lo siento, mamita, but how can I resist when you look like this? Can you blame a guy?” He steps back and raises your hand to twirl you like a princess. You smiled bashfully, your cheeks going red. He was so corny and he knew it, slightly cringing at his own effort to be “cool”. It made you laugh because he would NEVER act this way in front of anyone. Anyone except you. He smiled, laughed, and made cheesy remarks only for you. God, you needed this grumpy dork. 

“Migggg, stop it, I really need to go!” You softly laugh, covering your cheesy smile.

“Nunca, preciosa,” His voice is low when he pulls you back in, “But alright… how ‘bout a kiss before you go?” and with a smile, you get on your tip toes, and Miguel lifts you into a tender kiss, and when he kisses you, he breathes you in. It’s like you’re his life supply when he kisses you.

Just when you thought the kiss was over and you were about to be on your way, he didn’t let go of your hand. You look back, and you’re met with those damned puppy dog eyes, “Wait, one more? Please?” He was so pathetic, but how could you tell him no? Of course, you wouldn’t, so you come back and give him another deep kiss.

Once you two pull away, his forehead remains on yours and he whispers, “Otra mas? Porfa?” He coos. “I thought you said one more?” You teased his adorable pleading, but you took his chin with both hands and kissed him anyway. 

Two more kisses turned to three, four, five, six… and Miguel wouldn’t stop; “One more?”, “Okay, now one more.”, “Another one.”, “Otro besito…”, “no, not yet, one more, one more”, “mkay, last one.”, “wait wait wait, one more…” and the two of you broke into soft laughs as he kept asking for more kisses, you slowly trying to pull away as you were passed late now. With each step back you took, Miguel would step closer, keeping your body against his with his bulky arms. The once silent hallway was now filled with quiet, giddy laughter as Miguel attacked you with pecks. There was something so innocent about it all, the harmony between your high-pitched giggles and his low chuckles, accompanied by the continuous smacking of his lips on yours in a peaceful, early morning within the high-ceiling school walls.

“Miguel O’Hara, please!” You snap at him, still in a whisper, but you both just laugh. “Okay, okay, fine,” he finally lets go of you, watching you leave with a content smile,” I’ll see you later? Don’t leave without passing by, please,” you smile back at the buff nerd and his concern for you. “I will! I promise!” You scurry down the hall to meet with the student who’s probably wondering where you’ve been. Miguel doesn’t step back into his office until you’re out of sight, his mind still a little foggy from the interaction. 

If someone had told him at the beginning of the year that the grad student who always showed up in the cutest outfits, sat front row, and always gave him the prettiest, lip glossed smile would requite his feelings, he would laugh at their face (or simply just stare menacingly at them, more like). When he chose to settle down and take this job, he would’ve never thought he’d find you. You were that something he didn’t know he needed.

<3 

   You might’ve bitten off more than you can chew. By fault of your sweet nature, you decided to take in a few extra students, which left you in the library hours later, your forehead on your forearm, a bit of drool pooling on the table, and snoring.  Miguel had been doing some tutoring as well, though, he finished earlier than you and started doing some other collegiate duties. It was unknown to him that you did this, so he thought it was strange when you didn’t come by for that long. He knew you wouldn’t have left without saying anything, so he began to grow worried as hours went by. He made his way down to the lecture hall, but there was no sign of you there. He immediately started thinking the worst, a million different horrid explanations running through his mind as he picked up his pace through the hallway.

His heart eased when he saw your sleeping form in the library, the only light coming from the aged lamps on each of the tables, but the relief is short-lived once he realizes how long you’ve been working and how tired you must’ve been to fall asleep sitting like that. Making sure to be quiet as there were still two or three other students there, Miguel walked towards you, faintly smiling at your snoring.  

“Mama… Mamita…” he whispers, nudging your back gently, waking you up. Your eyes, blinking continuously, adjust to the dim lighting of the library and you make out the large figure beside you. It’s your sweet, darling professor.

“Mph… huh?” you stretch your arms above your head, letting out a yawn, “Oh my God, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you say with a tired chuckle, your eyes still adjusting. 

“Mama, what are you apologizing for? Ugh, I should’ve come to check on you sooner.” He sat beside you, but then one of the students quickly hushed him, giving him a dirty look for interrupting their study sesh. He raised his hand mouthing ‘sorry’.  

"Did you need something?" you softly asked him, not wanting to be hushed as well, and he just replied by intertwining his long, girthy fingers with yours under the table where no one could see. "Nothing, mamita, however, I need you to go home. You weren’t supposed to stay so late.” He tuts, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles like he always did. He already didn’t like that you were tutoring on top of your own schoolwork, the only reason why he let you help in the first place being that you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Oh, Miguel, always worrying about everyone but yourse-” You were cut off by another hush by the same irritated student. You both looked back at them, Miguel looking back with a scowl this time. He looked like he was about to say something, but you pulled away his attention with a sheepish smile, “Maybe we should go talk somewhere else.” You whisper. Taking your advice, he stood with you and followed you to a more private section of the library.

Settling in a small nook area where the two of you are surrounded by shelves of books, you sat on the floor, Miguel following shortly after. “So, care to explain why you’re still here?” He speaks while finding a comfortable position. 

You both lay against the shelf, your head tilted upward as you respond, “I just figured I could help a couple more students, is all. I guess it was after I finished with the last student and started studying for my other classes was when I knocked out.” Miguel lifts his arm so that he can wrap it around you, offering a cushion between you and the hardwood of the shelves. 

“Do you ever not study?” he raises a brow, but you’re quick to retaliate, “Do you ever not work?” You both chuckle. “Touché.”

“How do you do it?” you ask. 

“What do you mean?” You lay your head on his shoulder. “You basically run this entire department on your own. All I’ve done was tutor for a couple of days and look where that got me.”  Miguel chuckles at this. “I know sometimes it may not seem like it, but in all honesty, I love what I do, and you’ve gotta give yourself more credit than that, mama. You’ve truly been amazing, sweetheart. Always have been.”

“Well,” you snuggle into him a little more, relishing in his natural warmth that rivals the library’s cold air, “You helped.” Miguel returns the gesture by wrapping his arm tighter around you, sensing that you are becoming cold. “We helped each other, how ‘bout that.” you look up and smile at him, your cheek against the soft fabric of his cable-knit sweater (that fits juuust right on him). 

“Speaking of which, what’s this class you’re studying for?” you sit up straight and let out a tired sigh. “It’s another lecture,” you grab a hefty textbook from your bag beside you, letting Miguel take a look at it, “On top of creating a thesis, I have to memorize all of this.” He looks through his glasses that are hanging low on his nose and skims over the material.  

“How much of this have you memorized?” he still looks at the pages. “About half maybe.”

“Let’s fix that.” he sat up straight, positioning the book to where you can’t see its contents. “What’re you doing?” you’re suspicious of Miguel, knowing very well that he should be going home and not staying to help you study for a class that he didn’t even teach.

“I’m helping,” he clears his throat, “Which years did the ‘Modernist’ era in English literature begin and end? Please provide a short explanation of what catalyzed this period-” You ignore his question, attempting to take the book. “Miguel, you’ve done enough for today, you should be going home!” but he doesn’t let you have it.

“Mama, I just found you dead asleep while sitting up. You were gonna stay either way. I’d much rather be here so you don’t pass out again n’ make sure you get home safe. Please?” 

He’s literally the most perfect man ever. The person currently sitting in front of you just left his office doing whatever important task he usually occupies himself with to check up on you and is willing to stay here until you feel ready for your final. You’re convinced he’d do anything for you, and you’re right in thinking so. 

“Fine,” You’re beginning to realize how hard it actually is to say ‘no’ to Miguel, but you know Miguel was a bit of a pushover when it came to you as well, so you guess it’s alright, “But I feel like there should be some sort of incentive, though… some motivation.” you cheekily smile.

Miguel’s eyes shift above his lenses, intrigued by your proposition. “How ‘bout this. Every time I get something wrong… you get a kiss.” He chuckles. “Alright, and I’m guessing if you get it correct, then I should reward you with a kiss, right?” he says matter-of-factly, making you smile again. You were hoping he’d suggest something like this. 

He’d ask a question, you’d answer, and depending on if you got it right, Miguel would give you a kiss, or if you got it wrong, you “had” to give him a kiss (not much of a punishment, to be frank). You didn’t even wait for him to finish asking you a test question at times, you would just give him a tender kiss on the cheek just because. Some kisses, though, Miguel would get distracted, taking it from an innocent peck to a heated, handsy kiss, and reluctantly, you’d get him back on the task at hand. It got to the point where you ended up seated between his legs, and you'd start getting all these answers correct, so Miguel would plant kisses on your neck, sucking on the skin there. They would surely leave hickeys for the next day, but you didn’t care.

With your back against his hard chest and tummy, it was very hard to not delve into both of your fantasies. It was when Miguel began faintly bucking his hips against yours, his hardness expanding as he got blinded by lust again. "Miguel! Not here!” you'd whisper, and Miguel would groan in defeat. Trust, if you two weren’t in public, you would’ve let him do anything and everything he was thinking about doing to you.

That, having to stay quiet, and making sure no one was coming, it all made it feel like you were both teenagers again who were out later than they should be, laughing and shushing each other. 

The incentive being kisses actually worked in the sense that it kept you up, so not only was it an excuse to make out in the library, but it did technically help you memorize…

An hour or so passes by and you’ve gotten to the point where you know everything you need to for your final, but you didn’t want your time with Miguel to quite just end yet. You don’t know if it was the making out or what but you were suddenly wide awake now.

Miguel is about to test you on a topic one more time when he sees your eyes wandering the shelves, “You like to read, Mig? Just curious.” You look up at him. You were too tired to care whether or not you looked presentable enough for him, but he thought you looked absolutely adorable like this. Your hair lost its volume, your lip gloss was no longer shiny, and your mascara was a bit smudged from when you fell asleep earlier, but he found it so endearing. He wouldn’t have minded waking up to the sight every day for the rest of his life.

He closes the textbook, taking this as your way of ending the study session, “Yeah, I like it. I’ll read recreationally when I have the time.” He chuckled, looking at you like you were the only source of light on the planet. You shifted your head from where it rested against his arm and laid down on the floor, your head now resting against his soft stomach like a pillow. Your gaze focused on his hand that was now in yours. Your soft touch brushes against his more calloused, warm skin, playing with his fingers as you speak.

“What do you like to read? Fiction? Non-fiction? Give me details.” You continue to fiddle with his fingers. 

He starts to play with your hair with his free hand, moving any on your face, “Hm… I tend to gravitate toward non-fiction. You?"

"Anything romantic for sure," it doesn't take you even a second to answer, "Ever since I was a little girl, I always envisioned myself in those fairytale stories. Princesses, royal balls, a prince charming..." your eyes glanced up at him when you mentioned princes, and his smile grew.

"Oh, yeah?" He smirked, his brow raised. "Mhm. I kinda feel like I’m in one right now, actually.” His cheeks darken at this, licking his lips as he looks away to hide them. “Has anyone ever told you how handsome your smile is?” You add on, making him melt furthermore. He honestly can’t believe you’re saying all this about him. Miguel was usually the man that always knew what to say, but romance? Not his field of expertise, and much less when it came to you.

“Not really, no. Don’t show it much these days.” He looks back down at you, completely smitten by the angel currently lying in his lap.

“Well you should do it more often, it looks nice on you.” You’re not sure what came over you. It was so easy to praise him and watch him become goo from your words and touch.

“Then maybe I should spend more time with you.” Now it was your turn to be bashful. “I make you smile, huh?”

“Quite frequently in fact. It’s ruining my reputation, makin’ me go soft.” You chuckle along with him. “Just face it, you’re my big, scary teddy bear.” Miguel’s heart skips when you say ‘my’. As much as his past self would’ve hated being called that, he loved the possessiveness in it. He was truly yours, since the beginning. “Only if you’ll be the princess I protect.” You smile like an idiot. You hated him (you wanted him so bad).

“This actually reminds me of a certain story...” He ponders on a specific story, one that brings old memories. A faint smile grows on his plush lips.

“Oh, yeah? Mystery, sci-fi, romance…?” you say romance with a badly executed French accent, making him chuckle, “Eh… maybe it’s a romance…” He says with a growing smile. 

“Awe, I knew it, ya big softy. Which one?” You two began discussing your favorite romantic books. Turns out Miguel is a bit of a hopeless romantic himself, though, he’d never reveal that to anyone. You feel compelled to get up and search for your favorite book from the shelves surrounding you, which you both end up doing. Once you’ve found y’all’s respective books, you both return to the same position on the floor, but Miguel’s mood makes a shift. There’s a moment when Miguel’s spirit seems to die down, and you catch it. He looks down at the book with somber eyes. He flips through its pages, his brows furrowed and eyes narrow. “You alright, Miguel?” 

Miguel clears his throat. “I’m fine. Um...” He thinks about what he’s about to say and whether he should even share it. There’s a beat between the two of you. 

“What’re you thinking about?” You can see the gears in his head turn. 

“Nada, mamita, I’m fine.” He lies. He looks at you with a weak smile, but his eyes say differently.

“Anything you have to say is important to me.” You give his hand a small squeeze. “Please?” 

He squeezes back your hand and kisses your wrist. Miguel then worked up the courage to share something he hadn’t told anyone in what felt like years. Sure, his two closest coworkers knew about it, but that’s about it. Miguel didn’t have many, if at all, true friends outside of his work, but he felt you could be trusted. He felt that comfortable with you. Your softness tore down his tough walls. 

You learn that he had a daughter. Her name was Gabriella. He mentions how much she loved playing sports, being outside in the park, and how much she loved it when he read to her. The book currently in his hand was what she would pick almost every night. He’d read it in different voices for each character, making the story come alive for his precious little girl. No matter how many times he read it to her, she listened as if it were the first time. Seeing the little smile on her face made all the fatigue from work melt away. That’s why he chose it as his favorite book. 

He lost Gabriella to what he described as an ‘incident’, but you didn’t urge him to say anything more than what he was comfortable with, respecting his boundaries. 

“Sometimes, I’ll come back to this book and it almost feels like she’s here again.” He opens the book to the first page. Its cover and spine were intricate, the title reading ‘Beauty and The Beast’. 

He branched away from the book for a moment and began to go on and on about what Gabriella was like upon your request to know a little more about her, and instantly, his mood lifted. He speaks about her kindness, intelligence, curiosity, and her extensive imagination. He spoke about her favorite foods (sweets, of course) and even the foods she wasn’t a big fan of. He talked about their post-soccer game rituals of getting ice cream and how they would spend their mornings together eating their favorite cereal before school. With the way he spoke about her, a ball started to form in your throat. It was evident that he loved being a dad. You didn't think you could fall for Miguel harder than you already did until now.

Maybe that was why he was so hard on everyone in his class; maybe it was simply the paternal desire to see your pupils do their absolute best and succeed. It made you sad because this meant that not only has Miguel been alone for all these years, but he’s been alone on account of losing someone he loved so dearly. His precious daughter. And to you, that’s even worse.

You wanted to say how sorry you were for his loss, but you figured he’d heard that millions of times. You wanted to say something that actually meant something. 

“Gabriella sounds like a wonderful person,” You say with a small smile. Miguel looks at you, not really expecting a response like that, “And If you were the one raising her, then I know for sure she was absolutely wonderful.” 

“She was. Thank you.” Miguel looks down at you, you both sharing a quiet moment. “She would’ve really liked you.” He says softly, looking down at his lap where you were. His thumb caresses your cheek, making you smile even wider.

“Yeah?” You try to hold back any tears. This had to be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you. “Yeah.” 

The moment is so sweet and so soft and it felt so nice to be able to just relish in the small silences with him. And when you spoke, your voices were barely above whispers. “She would’ve thought you were a real-life princess for sure. I know I do.” You blush at this, Miguel’s hand on your face only adding more heat to your rosy cheeks. 

“Well, I think I would’ve really liked her, too. I wish we could’ve met.” You place your hand on top of his. Despite you also feeling saddened by this, there’s still a sense of gentle positivity in your voice.

“Me too.” Miguel’s face softens at your response, scenarios playing in his head. Moments between you and his daughter. What life could’ve been like had his daughter still been here to interrogate you as soon as she had the chance, and then just as quickly become your #1 fan. He’s quiet when he’s thinking about this, and you feel the urge to hug him. 

You sit up from his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, Miguel’s face buried into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his head. You rub his back with your other hand, feeling his breathing deepen.

Miguel lifts his head to look straight at you as if to admire you, “Thanks for listening.” You can’t help but pepper kisses all over his face: forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, and Miguel feels like he’s in heaven. At last, he takes your face in both hands and kisses you on the lips. No other dialogue needed, the two of you sit in peaceful silence again, literally just appreciating each other’s existence. The moment is interrupted by the opening of a door in the distance. Surely a night-time guard.

 “Y’know… we can get in an awful lot of trouble if we’re seen together like this.” You break the silence with a whisper. The teenage-like ambiance returns, winning a smirk from Miguel. “I know. I guess I just can’t bring myself to care right now.” His eyes trail all over your face, landing on your lips. He kisses you again, his lips descending to your neck and his hands squeezing the flesh of your butt. Ticklish and breathless, you begin giggling, ‘Miguel!” but he doesn’t stop, “Miguel O’Hara! What if they see us!” you whisper. 

“Mm, like it when you say my full name.” he muffles into your neck. “Miguel!” you laugh again, trying to push him off. “Take me home! We have class tomorrow!” is what finally stops him. He may or may not have let the heat of the moment get the best of him. “Yeah,” He runs his hand through his hair and fixes his glasses, “You’re right, you’re right.” He stands up, offering you a hand. Without making it look suspicious, you both walk past the guard as well as a few students (who were either passed out or too deep in their downward spiral of an all-nighter). 

Miguel drives you home in something you didn’t expect a college professor would be able to afford. He had his hand on your thigh the whole way, but not before he asked if that was okay, to which you happily granted. The entire car ride, Miguel had you smiling, blushing, laughing at his dated jokes. You were so sad when he pulled up to your place, still not wanting the night to end even though you were tired out of your mind. 

“Thank you for taking me home, my knight in shining armor.” You lean over, puckering your lips as you wait for a kiss. “Of course, Princesa, anything for you.” You both share probably the billionth kiss of the day before he speaks again. “See you tomorrow bright n’ early?” you nod, letting out a soft ‘yeah’. “Alright, get some rest, beautiful. And don’t be late.” he playfully enters professor mode for the last sentence, and you play along. “Of course, Professor O’Hara. Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Miguel kisses you again and bites your lip, the tension rising once again. “Mm, that’s one you haven’t called me in a while.” You giggle from how easy it is for you to excite Miguel, your absolute loser of a professor, but he’s your loser, and that’s all that matters. You feel his hand snake to your inner thigh, his tongue making its way down your throat, “Mm—Don’t get any ideas, mister, you should head home and get your sleep as well.” He lets out a defeated huff, “ay, Mamita, can’t keep doing that t’me…”

As much as you also wanted to be there with him, having him bounce you on his lap or taking it in the backseat, you also didn’t want for Miguel or yourself to miss class the next morning. Miguel agrees, sharing the very last, tender kiss of the night before finally saying goodnight to each other. You close the car door behind you and say one last thing through the window, “We should do this again. It was nice.” Miguel smiles at you, promising you he’ll take you to the public library one of these days. 

In exchange for more kisses, that is. Or perhaps more.

a/n: Haiiiiii, I hope you enjoyed <3 He's so cute n needy ur honor!! He simply just wants to be held!! I have 5k ish words to prove it!!! (So sorry omfg)

Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my masterlist, bae! <3

<3 Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi i @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu @mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @love4saturn @sukunash0e @tinythebunni

#this is definitely NOT self indulgent….. #professor!miguel #dadbod!miguel #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel fanfic #miguel imagine #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o’hara au #miguel o’hara fic

[livanas]

Astrology observations

⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱ :⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰ :

I have collected and put some of my notes together to share here with everyone. I hope they’re relatable or you find them interesting.

I have Pluto in the 3rd house and am always fidgeting with my fingers and picking at my lips. It’s a habit that won’t stop help!!!

Virgo risings come off as sweet and naive and you’ll feel the compulsive need to tell them all of your secrets,be warned you don’t want them as your enemy they have Gemini Mc they’ll tarnish your reputation

Virgo rising talk too loudly and they don’t realise it. They have a problem of ghosting people that want to have one on one conversation with them thus being called rude or snobbish

Virgo risings are overly sexualised and it’s usually with random people that they never expected they’ll sleep with. They also can’t make eye contact with people when talking

Had a classmate with Mercury in Aquarius he wrote notes very fast. We liked to copy his notes and he didn’t make grammatical errors

Juno in Aquarius might have a dislike for marriage or traditional relationships.

It’s so often talked about how Pisces are delusional since they’re ruled by Neptune. But, actually Leo is the most delusional since they’re exalted in Neptune. (Tell me I’m wrong.)

Sagittarius moons are always passionate about some cause related to society eg. politics, lgbtq+ etc.

Sun in the 11th house probably don’t like to expose themselves publicly, that’s why they tend to make friends online. (12th house sun can be this way too.)

9th house stellium can indicate not relating to their birthplace or where they were raised.

Saturn in Gemini = your thoughts are holding you back.

Saturn in Leo = your ego is holding you back.

Saturn in Scorpio = your secrets are holding you back.

Mars in Aquarius have explosive tempers, remember that Aquarius is ruled by Uranus, the unstable planet par excellence.

Capricorn’s love language is all but touch. Most of them don’t like much physical contact.

Lilith square sun is a common placement in those people with abusive fathers/deeply wounded ego.

Mars conjuct MC or in the 10th house can experience others being intimidated by them for no reason. And others can get jealous whenever they achieve anything.

Opposite/sister sign ascendants can actually look strikingly similar in terms of physical appearance. (I.e; Capricorn rising and Cancer risings)

Capricorns can repress their emotions because every time they express their emotions they are antagonized. People will find a way to blame them for feeling-someway, somehow. Cancer is in their 7th-house of open enemies.

Aries moons can be very defensive. Any Aries placements seem to be overly self protective.

Lilith in the 2nd house can be an over indulgent placement.

Pisces moons have soft-spoken voices.

Chart ruler in 1st people are so in control of their own lives. I’ve always considered this a “manifestation” placement.

Chiron in the 11th house can have difficulty making friends.

Mercury in the 12th house can easily manifest whatever they speak.

Ruler of the 11th and the 5th house in the 3rd makes for someone who can easily imitate other peoples voices.

Mercury in 1st house say things that are totally out of concept. They tend to talk about themselves a lot too. (Mercury= communication and 1H= self)

Saturn in the 5th house likes historical genres, movies or documentaries.

The first born in the family can often share the same moon sign as one their parents.

Mercury dominant like the English subject and are good at dictations

The color pink has a strong connection to lunar energy. Moon in the 1st house, Cancer rising, or Cancer placements can like a lot of pink.

Gemini moons have some of the best sense of humor. They’re very witty and creative.

Pluto or Uranus in the 4th house can indicate feeling like the “black sheep” of the family.

The house your moon is in can show what area of life is the most unstable or changeable for you.

Moon in Pisces is the most sensitive placement.

I know many Aquarius moons who were all into photography or film at some point in their lives, tech seems to be a hobby of theirs and they are very tech savvy.

Those are all of my observations! please comment on any you related to or are curious about, I’d love to read them. Bye for now.

#art #astro notes #astro observations #astrology #astrology compatibility #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology signs #birth chart #gaming #kpop aesthetic #kpop #kpop icons #kpop moodboard #kpop smut #bts #horoscope #zodiac signs #zodiac #natal chart #aesthetic #nail art #photography #fyp #lgbtq

[glittergoblinzz]

Ghoap (well, Cbf!Soap mainly) asking Afab!Reader to be their surrogate (pt 1)

CW: Talks of surrogacy/pregnancy

-----------------------------------------

The last thing you expected when you came home after work one day was your friend Johnny sitting on your couch. You two have been friends since childhood and have been inseparable, even after he joined the military. You trusted the man with your life and would let him come over whenever he felt like it, going as far as giving him an extra key to your flat in Sunderland.

At first, you thought something bad must have happened since you could see he was clearly stressed about something. You drop your bag down and go over to the couch, sitting next to him

"Johnny, what are ya doing here? Is something wrong?"

He looks up at you with those crystal blue eyes, running a hand through his mohawk.

"Nah, there's nothing wrong per say, but...there is somethin' I need to ask ya, lass. Somethin' big...."

"What is it?"

Johnny pauses, unsure of how to ask this. After a moment, a voice from behind you two speaks up. A deep, gravely voice with a Mancunian accent. The unexpected voice causes you to jump slightly and turn around. It was Johnny's husband, Simon. Johnny had told you about him numerous times but you had never gotten to meet him in person before. His brown eyes bore down at you. It was hard to tell what exactly he was thinking but from the tone of his voice and how blunt he was, it was clear he wasn't exactly happy.

"He wants to know if you'd be our surrogate."

This makes you pause. They want you to be their surrogate? The MacTavishs? Really? You understand that you and Johnny are good friends and all, but you figured they would have gone through an agency or even adopted instead. You look back at Johnny, who was giving Simon a bit of a look himself.

"Johnny, is this true?"

Johnny turns back to you and his face softens quite a bit before he looks down at the ground.

"Aye...it's true, lass. I know this is a really, really big favour to ask, but...."

Johnny looks back up at you and gently grabs your hand.

"Could ya do this for us? We'll pay ya, take care of ya. Simon's done took a step back from the military for this next part of our lives so you'll always have at least one of us around at all times."

The look of desperation in Johnny's eyes makes your heart break for him a little bit. You knew he's always wanted to be a dad one day, have a family of his own. You fold your arms over your chest and lean back into the couch a bit, thinking it over....

"If I do this for you....how would we be doing this? Do you already have an egg from a donor? Are you just needing me to carry your child for you?"

Johnny sighs

"No. We'd be hoping ya wouldn't mind doing it....the ol' fashioned way...."

"The old fashioned way...? You mean... You'd sleep with me to knock me up?"

Before Johnny could say anything else, Simon interjects.

"No. Not him. I'd be doing it..."

You look up at Simon, clearly shocked. You barely knew this man and here he was saying that he'd be the one sleeping with you. You've only heard tidbits about him from Johnny. Sure, Johnny made him out to be a good man who liked to crack jokes and was a pretty laid back guy but from this first encounter, he doesn't seem like that at all. This made you extremely hesitant to help your friend out in starting his family....

Seeing the look of worry on your face, Johnny clears his throat causing you to look back at him again.

"Don't mind him, lass. He's just a bit....protective. Simon doesn't feel comfortable at the thought of me sleeping with someone else. I hope ya can understand that? And don't worry, like I said before...ya don't need to say yes now. Ya can give your answer later on, after you've spent a bit of time with Simon and have gotten to know him better. I wouldn't want ya sleeping with someone ya barely know."

You slowly nod. You could understand that. You and Johnny have known each other for much longer and it wasn't a secret he had a crush on you in the past....so Simon most likely felt the relationship would be threatened if Johnny was the one to sleep with you, worrying that would rekindle the old feelings he had for you from your younger years. Giving a slight sigh, you smile at Johnny and slightly give his hand a squeeze before letting it go.

"Yeah, okay. I'll give it a shot for you, Johnny. I'll try to get to know Simon better before I make my full decision..."

Johnny's face lights up and he immediately leans in to hug you tightly. He pulls away after a moment with a huge grin on his face.

"Thanks, lass. I promise Simon isn't normally like this. He just....has a hard time trusting people he doesn't know. He'll warm up to ya eventually."

This earns a scoff from Simon as he turns his head away from you two. Johnny laughs and gets up from the couch, moving behind it towards Simon.

"Lighten up, love. I know ya two pretty well....I think you'll get along in no time at all..."

He looks at Simon lovingly as he brushes his hand through Simon's short, black hair before giving him a kiss on his forehead. Simon frowns a bit, some of the scars on his face becoming more prominent; especially the ones on his upper lip and cheek.

"Really, Johnny? In front of her?"

Johnny only laughs in response, nodding.

"Aye, in front of her. Now come on, we should probably let her be now..."

He didn't need to tell Simon twice. The Brit immediately started heading towards the door without another word, only stopping in the doorway to wait for Johnny. Before leaving, Johnny turns to you again.

"Again, thank you. This really does mean a lot to me, and especially Simon....even if the brute doesn't want to admit it..."

Another groan is heard from Simon, who's barely...just barely....got a slight upward curl of his lips going on.

"...So I'll text ya soon with some dates and times so we can all get together and hang out a bit, so you can Simon can get to know each other better, yeah?"

You nod, smiling as you stand up and give Johnny another quick hug.

"Yeah. Sounds good. See you later, Johnny. Simon."

You give a slight nod to Simon, who hesitates before giving a slight nod back. Johnny turns and walks to Simon, taking Simon's hand in his before the couple leaves your house.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #ghoap #ghoap au #ghoap fic #simon riley x you #john soap mctavish x reader #cbf!soap

[chris-slut]

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚 .ᐟ

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✶ ׅ ࣪ smut, oral!male, pet names; (baby, mama, pretty girl, slut), p in v, protected sex; (always wrap before you tap!)

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 ✶ ׅ ࣪ dom!chris & fan!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ׄ   ׅ ྀ summer been a fan of the triplets for ages. you finally were able to get tickets to their new “LTT” coming up. when summer arrived; she had been so anxious. anxious for one thing only. chris sturniolo. summer had the biggest crush on him since she had started watching the channel. and one thing she knew; he doesn’t fall for fans. or she thought she knew.

chris - orange

summer - pink

ׄ   ׅ ྀ SUMMER’S hands were shaking as she walks into the building for the let’s trip tour. she has been nervous about coming since she bought the ticket’s.

she wasn’t nervous to see matt, or nick. she was actually the most excited to see nick. but summer was nervous to see chris. ever since she began watching their channel she’s gained the biggest crush on the youngest triplet.

his hair— his eyes— his personality, just every little thing about him she thinks is perfect.

when she walks in, she follows the carpet on the floor to the booth for meet and greets. she was luckily able to get the premium ticket’s so she gets to meet them twice and take a group photo as well.

their booths go in birth order. nick ; matt ; chris. oh was she nervous to see chris. summer has no clue what she would even say to him— to any of them.

she’s atleast 10th in line, so summer has to wait a couple of minutes to even begin the session. when she walks up she’s greeted with nicks face. he’s got his arms open for a hug which she quickly accepts. they talk about thinks from vlogging to music to anything until time runs out. their time limit was short as hell so she wasn’t able to finish their conversation.

next is matt— she was getting more nervous by the second knowing chris is just after this one. she takes a glimpse over as she catches chris’s eyes on her, but he takes them off quickly before she fully has time to process anything.

her and matt really just walk about writing or anything under those lines. he’s more of a comfort triplet in her eyes since they struggle with the same things. they take their photo as summer gives him one last hug as she grabs her signed cards and walks over to chris’s stand.

he already has his arms wide open for her, which she accepts just like the rest. she could smell his dior sauvage with how close their contact was. he pulls away and looks down at her— a huge smirk plastered on his face.

“so, what’s your name?” chris asks as he bends over and begins to sign her card. she clears her throat. “s-summer,” she stutters. she stutters. fuck that’s embarrassing!

“cute name,” chris says in a flirty tone. she doesn’t take it that way tho because she KNOWS he would never flirt with a fan. especially a fan he’s known for less than 30 seconds.

summer mumbles a quick thank you as she looks back up at him, her cheeks turning a cherry color from their eye contact.

“so,” he says as he runs his hand through his hair, she thought that was the most attractive thing ever. “you got the premium ticket? y’know, for another selfie later?” chris asks as she nods. she can’t pull herself to say anything.

“alright alright, see you later then?” chris asks as his bottom lips now in his mouth, top teeth out for display. this makes her feel some type of way. “see you later,” she says to his as he hands her the signed card.

their time runs out, but chris pulls her in for another hug as he shoots his brothers a secret wink, them rolling their eyes. chris’s hands find her waist as he gives them a squeeze, letting her walk off.

ׄ   ׅ ྀ chris point of view .ᐟ

FUCK. the moment the fan— summer— walked into the room, i couldn’t control myself. her dark brown hair that lays on her shoulders covered in freckles made me feel some type of way.

she’s perfect. she’s all i’ve ever wanted. i gave her the last hug as i look over at matt and nick and give them the — i want her — look. they let out a silent laugh as they roll their eyes at me.

i give her waist a squeeze as i watch her walk off. she’s so fucking perfect. all i’ve ever dreamed about if i’m being completely honest.

jesus fuck— how am i gonna last on stage knowing she’s there. watching us. watching me.

a tent builds up in my pants as i think about her, thinking about the possibility’s i have with the girl. summer, that’s her name.

cute name for a cute girl.

  ׅ ྀ summers point of view .ᐟ

I swear i was catching chris looking at me on stage with that slutty smirk on his face. jesus christ. i know he’d never get with a fan, but the way he’s acting— i’m slowly second guessing my assumption.

i would catch him giving small smirks and winks towards my way, girls behind me saying it was for them. if only they knew.

i felt my core grow wetter every time his eyes landed on mine. his eyes would constantly move down to my lips, causing them to get sucked between my top teeth. fuck i just wanted him so bad.

i wasn’t even paying attention to what was happening around me, but all i heard was chris winning- cheers- and girls saying freaky shit.

right before he walked off stage while everyone was leaving the crowd, christ’s eyes moved to me and he shot me a “excited-to-see-you” wink.

  ׅ ྀ 3rd person point of view .ᐟ

as she walks up to meet the three, chris’s eyes immediately wandering around her body. the sexual tension between them was beginning to get to intense, both of them wanting nothing bout to fuck each-other senseless.

after hugging the other two, she hugs chris, “missed me?” he mumbles against her ear as he pulls away— her just looking at him.

she poses between both chris and nick, doing just a group photo. chris’s hands wander around her waist like earlier, giving it a squeeze. the heat between her core was burning— all she wanted was him.

*FLASH!* the camera clicks as she walks away from the boys, giving chris a little wave.

after that you either left or went to the back for the last round of photos, which the second option was summer’s.

she walks over and has her talks with the other 2 triplet brothers as they talk about anything, talking 0.5’s, tiktok’s, whatever.

then it was chris. his eyes were already on her the whole time which caused butterflies to swarm all in her stomach.

“hey chris,” she mumbled as she went in for another hug, chris’s hot breath going right onto her neck. “hey pretty, missed you y’know?” he says. what a fucking tease he is.

“really? to bad theirs only 3 minutes left,” summer tells him as she looks up to get a better view of him, sudden boldness coming out. her words made chris’s eyes widen, “yeah i know,” chris says as his eyes wander to the room next to him.

BATHROOM!

a smirk plasters on chris’s face as he notices the girls jaw slightly dropping, knowing what he was getting at. “i—“ summer clears her throat. “you know! maybe i should just—“ she starts to finish her statement from before but quickly gets dragged by her wrists by chris.

summer hears a click from a lock as chris’s hands find their way to the hem of the cargo skirt she wore. “been thinking of taking this off you,” he mumbles as he places a soft kiss right under her ear. his hands find way to her throat as he backs her up into the wall and places his lips on her roughly.

“f-fuck,” she breathes out which allows chris to slide his tongue past her lips, exploring every inch of her mouth that he could. the sound of teeth clashing and wet noises filling up the hollow room. “mmgh- fuck, knees,” he says as summer quickly gets on her knees as told.

he tries to take his belt off but he can’t, so summer quickly steps in to help. she takes his underwear down with his black jeans as her eyes widen at the sight of his length.

“like what you see baby?” he whispers as her eyes look up into his, she doesn’t reply as her hand is met with the base of his cock. his angry red tip on display right in-front of her eyes.

she lets spit drip down from her lips as she takes all the length that she could into her mouth— bobbing her head up and down. chris’s hands find their way into her hair as they make a ponytail.

he helps her take his full length as she stays their for a few seconds, then continuing to suck him off. groans come from chris’s mouth. he could get off at just the sight of you.

“such a fucking slut— my slut,” chris groans out-loud which caused her to get more soaked— which at this point wasn’t even possible.

right before chris was about to cum into your mouth, he pulls out. you let out a whimper as you stand up. he grabs the condom he left in his pocket as he puts it on around his length.

“c-“ before you could finish, your stomach hits the sink in front if you as he rips down her skirt, wasting no time to stick himself into her core. a loud groan falls from both their lips as she adjusted to his size. fuck was he huge.

“don’t have long— gonna cum!” chris moans a little louder than expected as the room is filled with skin slapping and groans from the pair.

he pushes his full length into you as he rolls his hips, a loud whimper coming from your mouth. “fuck chris, so good. so good!” she moans which made chris let out a satisfied whimper.

“fuck mama’s, gonna cum! gonna cum!” he moans as his load shoots into the condom, slowly pulling out of you. both your chests rising with slight sweat on you both. “fuck that was amazing,” you whimper out as you get your skirt back on.

“mm, yeah it was. doing that again for sure mama’s.” chris says. again?

#ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 .ᐟ #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chrissturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nathan doe #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nathan doe smut #smut

[starfxkr]

ummmm can we talk more about john b putting a leash/collar on pup!reader...... the thought of him having her sit on her knees and stick her tongue out while he tugs the leash forward has me feral

🪼

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

this was a new step to your relationship, one that meant you put full trust in john b that he would love and care for you on a level deeper than you ever thought.

the collars simple, it's not even a traditional collar really--a simple braided necklace he made himself with all your favorite colors, a little engraved heart shaped pendant that read property of john b routledge in plain font.

you were kneeling in front of him in anticipation, nothing on but that pretty collar as you waited for his instruction.

the outline of his thick cock was straining against his shorts and your mouth watered at the thought it's weight again your tongue, but you knew you had to be patient.

"open that pretty mouth for me pup." john b looked at you with those soft brown eyes, a slight smile on his face as he tapped your lips with his finger.

eagerly you do what he says, letting out a soft exclamation when he pinches your tongue between his thumb and forefinger and gently pulls it out your mouth.

"you were so good today you know that?" slowly he began to rub his finger against the pink muscle, making you whimper and drool in anticipation. whenever he praised you like this, you knew you were in for a treat and given how quickly he was pulling himself out his shorts you knew now was no exception.

"i think you deserve a treat," he softly tugs your towards his crotch more, you have no choice but to crawl closer--collar quietly jingling" until your head was in his lap, "go on now, s'all yours."

that was all you needed to engulf him in your mouth with a moan the second the earthy taste of him flooded your mouth. you worked his girth length down your throat as best as you can and john b made no secret of how much he enjoyed it--moaning and grunting with each wet suck.

your head was practically empty, your thoughts only of john b and his heavy cock and the desire to taste him cum filling your mouth.

"go down, all the way, fuck you're gonna make me cum."

you give him your all--spit drooling down your chin and over his heavy sack, you fight the urge to bring them up to your searching tongue peaking past your lips because he didn't say you could touch him yet, but you can't help but rock your hips in search of some friction.

"shit, shit, stay right there, stay there, goddamn." he lets out a loud grunt as he cums, his brown curls spilling over the back of the couch while he holds your head down and continues to fuck your face.

each spurt of hot cum down your throat makes your eyes flutter knowing you've made him feel good. you so deeply float into a hazy space you don't notice him pulling you off and lifting you into his lap.

"woah there, still with me?"

you nod in affirmation, burrowing yourself into his bulky chest.

"you're a real good girl pup, you know that." john b brushes a palm against your sweaty cheek and kisses your face until your eyes are more alert and you're giggling, "can't lose you just yet, i want you conscious when i fuck you."

#✨.txt #john b prompt #puppy!reader #🪼 anon

[palant1r]

thinking about how shuro was laios's first friend on the island even though he'd already met marcille by that point. thinking about how marcille and chilchuck and namari are unapologetically blunt and unafraid to be HatersTM, in contrast to shuro who comes from a very nonconfontational culture. thinking about how shuro's unwillingness to be direct made him resent laios and made true friendship between them impossible. thinking about how chilchuck and marcille are quick to tell laios when they think hes being obnoxious, never hiding their true feelings about what he says. how even senshi tells laois when hes being Not Normal.

it often comes across as mean.

but

thinking about when i was young and couldn't stand any hint that people were annoyed at me, so i latched onto the people who wouldn't turn me away — but i never felt close to them. thinking about now, when my closest friends are those i trust to set boundaries and be honest, to say the things i can't infer. but that's a place i could only reach once i knew i was worthy of being loved.

and ive known people like shuro. and i find his depiction so refreshing — there are no true villains in dungeon meshi. that's just how it is, a clash of how clues are interpreted, and that makes it hurt so much more. to be resented not because someone else is an unambiguous jerk, but because there is something about you that is simply incompatible with others if you're not met halfway.

thinking about how chilchuck and senshi and marcille care about laios so deeply. thinking about how he still wont let himself trust that they do, that they would go back into the dungeon for him.

thinking about how they never abandon him or resent him.

deep down, shuro's hidden secret when it comes to laios is that he resents him.

but marcille's is that she's terrified of losing him and the others as he ages. chilchuck's is that he doesn't want them all to die. senshi's is that he wants to look after laios and the others like he was looked after and is terrified he can't do it properly.

im having many thoughts.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 25

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

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---

“So you are saying that the Infinite Realms’ government is organized like a dungeons and dragons party?”

Danny snorted and patted Tim’s shoulder. “Jazz’s idea, actually.”

From where she was quietly talking with Bruce, Jazz huffed. “I never said it was a dungeons and dragons party. I only suggested the organization that fit our strengths better.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Potato, potahto.”

Jazz rolled her eyes, but went back to her discussion.

The group was walking towards the gardens, where a light lunch was served. Time went by as the Waynes asked anything and everything about the Realms and their rulers, now that there were no more secrets between them. They talked about Sam and Tucker and Valerie and even about Danielle, her origins and how she joined the team included.

The Fenton siblings enjoyed oversharing in a way that felt weird to the vigilantes, so used to hiding and concealing their thoughts all the time. Now that they were more comfortable, Danny and Jazz didn’t hesitate to act more inhuman around them, with the younger sibling floating when he got excited as if it was the more normal reaction.

It reminded Bruce of his colleagues in the Watchtower break room goofing around and using their powers for the stupidest reasons.

When Tim rejoined them, this time alone, he was more annoyed about losing the bet than missing the ghost royalty status reveal. Danny thought that was the funniest thing, and gladly started a new stream of oversharing information about Jazz’s princess status and all the titles she held, ignoring his sister’s attempts at silencing him.

They didn’t even notice lunch time approaching until Alfred reminded everyone in the house that they had to eat — yes, even their inhuman guests. The last part was added with a pointed glare and a short nod before the man walked away.

So now they were making their way to lunch, which was served outside given the nice weather despite being way into fall, chatting about Team Phantom and their roles in detail.

“So Sam is like the Barbarian of the team?” Tim pressed on. “And Tucker is the Artificer.”

Jazz huffed again.

“We are not—”

“Actually, is not that far from the truth,” Danny chuckled, “but not exactly just that. All of us are at least trained in one main duty and act as a backup for someone else. That guarantees that if one of us has to leave, nothing will be left unattended.”

“Like with Jazz being here.”

He nodded. “Jazz helped Tucker with all the record keeping and research in magical theory, as well as diplomacy and ghost law studies. Valerie helped Jazz with her main duties, and so on and so forth.”

“Magical theory?” Jason asked, one eyebrow arched. “Ghost law?”

“Sounds cool but it's actually just reading a bunch of books and trying to guess what they say.” Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. “I swear there is nothing that can make me pass out faster than reading those fuckers.”

“That’s because you don’t do your homework. Dorathea is a very good teacher.” Jazz chimed with a mocking smile.

Duke interrupted when Danny jumped to answer. “You said that the books weren’t Jazz’s main duty, so what is it?”

The young woman tensed for a second before putting on a gentle smile. It didn’t fool anybody, though. “I am—”

“Jazz.”

She turned towards her brother. “What?”

“Jazz, look.”

She frowned at his serious tone, the boyish glee gone completely, but turned to look at what he was pointing at.

It was a giant painting on the other wall of the room they just passed by, which was featuring a small family — a woman, a man and a child. All three were wearing nice clothes, serene smiles for the portrait.

“What’s the matter?” Bruce stepped closer to see what they were seeing, tensing when he realized what it was. “Why are you pointing at my parents’ portrait?”

The siblings looked at each other. “That’s your mother?” Jazz finally asked.

The look Bruce gave her was equal parts worried and calculating. “Indeed.”

Again Danny and Jazz talked to each other with facial gestures and looks.

“It can’t be.” Danny murmured. “Can it?”

“I don’t know.” She answered.

“Hey.” Jason grabbed Jazz’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

She glanced at her brother, frowning. She licked her lips and drew a long breath. “That’s Lady Gotham.”

One second passed by. Two seconds.

“No, that’s my mother.”

Dick giggled at the absurdity of the situation.

“Could she be wearing someone’s face?” Jazz ignored Bruce’s quiet breakdown to talk to her brother. “Or is it like ‘the Spirit passes down ownership’ kind of situation?”

Danny hummed. “I don’t think it is the second case,” he crossed his arms, “she felt like an Ancient and this woman couldn’t have been dead that long.”

“Are you saying that an ancient spirit is wearing my mother’s face?” The older man said, voice small. Even Jason frowned at the weakness in his tone.

Jazz seemed to snap back to reality and noticed that the conversation may not be the best given current company. She sighed. “We don’t know. Maybe. Was your mother special in any way for this city?”

“Are you kidding? Haven’t you heard about the Martha Wayne foundation? Or all the charity stuff in her name?” Tim scoffed. “Do you live under a rock?”

Jazz blushed. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I don’t pay that much attention to current events outside my work and Crime Alley.”

Jason pretended to try to hide his smile in Jazz’s hair as he pulled her for a side hug.

Danny made a face at the pair, shook his head and turned towards Bruce. “We can’t be a hundred percent sure, but it’s not unheard of for an ancient Spirit to change their appearance. It’s usually to fit in as time passes; but taking the face of a real person from their hunt?” He tilted his head, and Jason noticed the similarity with his sister. It was adorable. “That’s a new one for me.”

“We can always ask?” Jazz tried to move past her misstep.

“Do you really think she’d want to talk about that?”

“Maybe. If we ask nicely.” Neither sibling actually believed these words.

Bruce blinked slowly and started walking again, lost in thought. The rest followed as if nothing even happened.

“Is she really that scary?” Duke asked.

“She is…,” Danny started, rubbing the back of his neck, “she is surely something else. This city is cursed, man; so it doesn’t surprise me that the Spirit overseeing this place is just as cursed.”

“What Danny is trying to say,” Jazz jumped in, “is that the Spirit of Gotham has been deeply corrupted and, well, she’s definitely in pain, and sometimes she lashes out.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,” her brother scoffed, shaking his head and not looking at anybody. “I don't know what nice and watered down version of the story Jazzy here told you guys but when we first came here, she was pissed. King or no King, she was ready to kill me.”

Jazz blushed again. “I don’t—”

“Yes, you do.” Danny rolled his eyes.

She looked like she had something to say, but chose to close her mouth and ignore the chuckles.

They finally arrived at the nice backyard patio where a table was already set up for lunch. Alfred walked around the table with his cart, setting down the plates and giving the finishing touches to the display.

Nobody missed his little smile watching them naturally divide in groups and sit down together, his eyes lingering on Jason refusing to let go of his girlfriend’s hand even under said girlfriend’s brother's snarky comments about it.

It had been a while since the Manor was filled with noise like this. It felt… alive. Like how it was supposed to be.

The old man quietly grabbed his cart and went back inside to plate the second course for the meal. He didn’t glance at the moving shadows and the trickster reflections on the corner of his eyes — after so many decades serving at this Manor, this family, he got used to not being exactly alone inside those walls.

***

“I don’t know how you are going to break it to Frighty.”

Jazz froze mid bite, frowning as she swallowed the food. “What do you mean?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows at Danny’s shocked expression. The young man looked around the table, maybe looking for support or an explanation, but he probably forgot they just met that morning.

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Jazz, Fright Knight has been courting you for around a year.”

Tim froze, glancing up to see Jason’s reaction. Expecting loud shouting to start, he was even more shocked when Jason leaned back on his seat and crossed his arms with a giant smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” Jazz leaned in, glaring at her brother on the other side of the table.

“Hold on a second,” Dick pushed his empty plate aside to lean closer to Danny, “Fright Knight? The King’s right hand man? The Aspect of Fear?”

“That’s the one!”

“I don’t—” Jazz blinked, “I don’t know— How? When?”

“Uhhhh, since the first siege, I believe?” Danny's smile went from one ear to the other. “He said, and I quote, ‘I had never felt such things in battle before. Lady Jasmine’s war cries pierced my chest deeper than her lance pierced our enemies’.”

Tim shuddered. It was the way Danny impersonated this Fright Knight’s sickening dreamy voice.

“The first siege? That was more than two years ago!”

“And you haven’t noticed this guy being in love with you?” Jason spoke for the first time, grinning at his girlfriend.

“I don’t know?” Jazz threw her hands up. “I thought he was being nice!”

“For a whole year?”

“He’s been giving you courting gifts, Jazz!” Danny said, incredulous. “And you accepted them!”

“So those were courting gifts?”

“What were those gifts?”

“Swords.” Danny answered Jason. “Shiny blades. Ornamental and functional. Jazz has a collection back in the Realms.” He turned towards his sister. “Which, by the way, people keep sending gifts for you. I think they think that you are the ‘reasonable’ one of us and if they send you more swords you’d be more merciful.”

“I don’t need more swords.”

“You liar. You love swords.”

Jazz blushed, unable to say otherwise. “Still nothing he did told me he was interested.”

“Ancients, Jazz,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone knew he was head over heels for you. We thought you were preferring to deal with it in private.”

Her blush became worse. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands fidgeting with her napkin. “You know I don’t do all the romance stuff.”

Incredulous, Danny just pointed at Jason. “And how do you explain him?”

“It’s…” she licked her lips, “different. Unexpected. We just— we clicked.”

“Awww.”

Danny made a face and rolled his eyes, ignoring Dick and Cass’ cooing.

“Well. I’m not going to be the one dealing with all that. Frighty is all yours.”

Jazz sighed. “I’ll talk to him when I go back to the Realms.”

“Hm.” Danny hummed, suddenly lost in thought as he sipped his water. “Maybe you don’t have to.”

“What?”

“I said: Maybe you don’t have to.” He spoke louder. “Come back, I mean.”

She did a double take. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Danny took a second longer than what was expected. “You can stay here.” He leaned back on his seat, putting as much distance as he could from his sister. He was also evading her eyes. “Permanently.”

There was only the sounds of the birds chirping in the nearby trees and the wind flowing between the leaves for a few seconds.

“Are you—” Jazz’s voice was careful, low, “Are you firing me?”

Half the table was looking at Danny and the other half had their eyes glued on Jazz’s face. Her rage, while quiet, was familiar to those witnessing the moment — betrayals, infightings and disbelief ran though their minds as they remembered similar situations in their pasts.

“Jazz—”

“After everything you just— What the hell Danny?”

“I’m not— Could you at least look at me?” She did, and everyone could see her watery eyes. “It’s for your own good.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Jazz’s expression turned murderous as the tears escaped her eyes. She stood up, teeth grinding, breathing deeply a few times before she opened her mouth.

“You don’t mean that.” She crossed her arms.

Danny looked like he wished he was anywhere else but in that room at that moment. “Bad choice of words. I don’t mean that.” He slowly repeated.

“Good.” Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but she was still mad.

“What I wanted to say is…” He sighed and lifted his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at— You know I always mess these things up— Okay, okay I’ll get to the point.” He quickly added under Jazz’s narrowing eyes. He breathed in, breathed out. “I want you to stay here. In the living world. As long as you want.”

She processed his words, and slowly sat back down. The sounds of nature around them picked up like nothing happened, even if no one had noticed their rather unnatural silence.

“But you said…”

“I know. But things have changed, Jazz. I want you to stay. How could I not be okay with that?”

“But— But my role— And the Archives, and Walker, and—”

“Everything can wait. Or, I don’t know, we’ll deal with it.” He leaned in and took one of her hands in his. “We told you to come here because you really needed a vacation, and I stand by it. The Keep can wait for you. I can wait for you.”

“But—”

“Jasmine Fenton. You have given up everything for me. You were not meant for any of this ghost bullshit or war or fist fighting gods in a Denny’s parking lot. But you gave me a decade of that, and I appreciate it, but that’s enough. You can rest now, you can have nice things. You deserve it.”

Nobody missed when Danny gave Jason, and quick look around the people on the table, when he mentioned the “nice things” she could have.

Jazz opened her mouth only to close it again, more tears coming to her eyes. Her cheeks tinted red, maybe from embarrassment, maybe for remnants of her anger.

She yanked her hand from her brother’s and rushed to her feet, taking a shaky breath.

“Excuse me.”

Jason frowned, watching her go back inside the house and probably looking for a place to calm down.

He felt a kick on one leg.

“Go.” Danny interlaced his hands on the table and nodded in his sister’s general direction. “She needs you.”

Jason’s frown deepened, but he obliged without saying a word.

Bruce cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very self conscious under Danny’s stare. The young man didn’t look affected by what just happened like his sister was, but his eyes betrayed the conflicted emotions he hid behind his mask.

“I’m sorry you guys had to witness that. I should have waited until we got home. My bad.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but it felt like forced nonchalance.

“That was sure something.” Dick commented after clearing his throat.

“I apologize but I need to ask,” Bruce leaned in. “Jasmine seemed pretty adamant her time here was limited, that she would sooner or later have to leave everything here. What changed?”

“Did she tell you that?” Danny made an incredulous face and scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t even need to ask. I don’t know why I keep being surprised by her antics.”

“So it’s not true?”

What else had she been lying about? A tiny voice said in the back of Bruce’s head. He tried to ignore it, but given the drastic differences between Danny’s and Jazz’s behavior, he was wondering what was the actual picture and what was the siblings’ casual omission of truth.

“It was true, but only because she herself sets those limits. Jazz is…,” he sighed, deflating on his seat, looking at the sky, “I love my sister, and a lot, but she takes everything too seriously.”

Or you don’t take things seriously enough, Bruce thought, but chose not to say it.

“I never said she had a time limit, or that she had to turn her back on the living world for the rest of her life. We sent her ass to the Arkham internship because she doesn’t know how to take a break.”

“Arkham is a break?” Tim asked what had been lingering in everyone’s heads. The siblings kept referring to working at the worst psychiatric criminal facility, a vacation and a break.

Danny scoffed again, turning his eyes towards the young man. His smile wasn’t kind. “You guys haven’t put it together? The kind of role Jazz has in the Realm. The kind of person she… The kind of person I asked her to become.”

There was deep guilt in his voice, and in the way he couldn’t hold his gaze. Danny fidgeted with his napkin, letting the birds sing the tension of his silence away. They were waiting on him to elaborate, and he knew that, but was building the courage to speak.

“Do you guys know how powerful I am? No, you don’t,” he answered himself with a shrug, “because there’s no one like me. I could— If I wanted to, I could bring this city, the whole city, into the Infinite Realms. Just like that.

If I wanted to I could end the war with a snap of my fingers. I could Order every ghost-adjacent being to follow my every command and bring peace via total domination. Or,” he stopped his fingers, sighing, “I could just rip their cores with a thought and crush them with another and be done with Vlad and with every stubborn ghost that thinks I don’t deserve to be King.”

He finally glanced up at Bruce, as if he knew all these scenarios passed though the man’s head as he spoke. “Imagine that — Every conflict, every war, I could wish it away in seconds.”

The older man nodded, following his speech. “And yet you are here.”

Danny’s vulnerable smile reminded him so much of Clark’s. “I can’t. I can’t do that. If I— If I just eliminate every little thing in my way, what kind of person would I be? I’ve seen it happen, Bruce. I know what I could be if I lose perspective of who I really want to be.”

Cass lifted her hand like she was in a classroom. “Jazz. She’s your anchor.”

Danny went back to looking at his hands, shoulders sagging. In shame? In defeat? “All of them keep me grounded, even when I feel like I’m drifting away from who I used to be. But Jazz? She knows what needs to be done, what I’m scared to do. She knows she can handle the guilt and the nightmares and the horror.”

He took a long breath to calm himself. “Jazz is what I can’t— what I won’t be, and she took that burden like it was nothing. She has always done that, taking the bad things and dealing with them for me. It’s just… This time, the ‘bad things’ are a little bit more permanent.”

It made sense now. How she avoided talking about it, how Jazz tensed when she was asked what her role was. How she was so comfortable at Arkham.

“She’s your Executioner.”

Danny flinched at Bruce’s words. “She’s that and more. She became a counterpart for me, a shadow, so I could shine in the spotlight. A symbol.” He said the word like it was a curse. Bruce didn’t miss the twitch in his eyebrow. “Do you know why her armor is bright red?” His smile wasn’t kind when he looked up. “The Infinite Realms are green. She stands out and attracts all the attention in battle so the rest of us can be the heroes of the hour.” He chuckled. “She never wanted any of this. She didn’t defeat the previous King, she wasn’t even there. I know my childhood could have been way worse if she wasn’t in my life, and I’m grateful, but I kept asking more and more from her and now—”

“Do you really think I didn’t want this?” Jazz’s voice cut through Danny’s rambles. “I chose to stay, Danny.”

He didn’t react when he saw her walk in, her face puffy and her eyes still wet. Did he know she was listening? Of course he did — from what the vigilantes could gather so far, Danny’s abilities were up there with Superman’s. Maybe even more.

“Don’t.” He frowned. “I can see right through your bullshit, Jazz. There wasn’t that much of a choice and you know it.”

She bit her lips, but didn’t deny it. Instead, she pulled on her joined hands with Jason’s so they approached the table and sat down.

After settling in her seat, she breathed in, breathed out and smiled. “You are making me sound like some kind of demon or something.” Nobody bought the lightness of her tone.

Danny caught her deflection and chose to follow. He scoffed. “And you are not?” He made a gesture with his hands, placing them on the sides of his head with his pointer fingers up, imitating his sister’s headpiece.

She rolled her eyes. “I am not—”

“Jazzy, fear incarnate is in love with you. He let you ride his horse!” He smirked at Jason. “Not an euphemism.”

He caught on what the siblings were trying to do and turned towards his girlfriend. “You never told me about any horse, darling.”

“Nightmare was a strategic move. Frighty knows I can’t fly like the rest of you and it could give me an advantage during battle.”

“Nightmare? Seriously?” Jason asked.

“Big black horse with wings.” She quickly explained with a shrug. “Breathes fire.”

“Are you serious? Fright Knight doesn’t let me even touch his horse and I’m the King!” He threw his hands up in the air. “That being said, he doesn’t challenge me as much as he does with you, and thanks the Ancients for that.”

“Wait. Wait a second. Are you saying—”

Danny’s smile grew like a Cheshire Cat’s. “Ooohhhh. You didn’t know? Did you forget the one basic fact about ghost nature, Jazzy-pants? Ghost’s love language is fighting.” He said the last part imitating her voice, like she was giving a lecture of some kind.

“Oh? Tell me more?” Jason leaned towards Danny, head leaning on one hand, completely enraptured by the information his girlfriend’s brother shared so easily.

“And he wasn’t pulling any punches either. Before I learned he was formally courting her, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight her to death or marry her!”

“He could do both if he’s not a coward.” Jason shared the smile with Danny, ignoring Jazz’s hands pushing his shoulder away from her.

“Hey!” Jazz protested, but there was a small smile on her lips. “Don’t encourage him!”

“Wait until I tell you about The Ballad of the Red Demon.” Danny also ignored his sister, and the eyes of the rest of the Waynes, as he summoned a notebook with more green flames. He cleared his throat, opened the notebook and started reading:

“The fire in her eyes burned brighter than any sun, as the sharp edge of her blade pierced your chest to meet your untimely end.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her burning fury will consume you in a blaze hotter than the Realm’s Core.

There she rides the winged Dark Horse as her cries call for the blood of her enemies, bright green eyes already searching for the next target.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her siren’s call will be the last thing you hear before you draw your last breath.”

“What in the Ancients is that?” Realization came to the young woman. She slapped the table and stood up. “Ghost Writer?”

Danny nodded. “He gave me the first draft to approve before getting into editing.” He shook the notebook closer to his sister. “There’s a chapter for each of us, don’t think it’s just about you.”

He rolled his eyes and reopened the notebook, getting ready to continue reading, but Jazz jumped and reached across the table trying to snatch the notebook before he continued. He managed to float away just in time to prevent her from taking it from him, and quickly flew high enough that she couldn’t reach him, but close enough that he was almost within reach.

“Awww, you don’t want our new friends to know about your feats during the last siege? About—” he glanced at the text, quickly murmuring words under his breath, “‘Her fiery hair glows like a damned halo’ and ‘sharp blade like a gentle kiss of death’ something something ‘crushing enemies under her foot’.”

Jazz was trying to jump high enough so she could catch her brother, her face crimson red as the others chuckled at the scene.

Finally, taking pity on her, Jason reached for the book as Danny was distracted reading the next stanza and seized it away from the floating Fenton.

“Thank you.” She breathed in relief, extending her hand so he could give her the notebook.

With a tiny smile, he opened it and tried to read too, but it was written in symbols he felt he recognized but couldn’t read.

“Do you have an official translation yet or do I have to wait?”

---

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#dpxdc #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #jazz/jason #dp x dc #dc x dp #batpham #friendly neighborhood vigilante #neighbors au

[merakiui]

thinking thoughts,,, fwb with jack would be so interesting. because it starts entirely no strings attached. maybe the excuse is it’s for exercise or stress relief or something of the two, but the longer you spend in that arrangement the more jack starts falling back on pack dynamics and instincts. always making sure you eat first, getting you things (snacks, water, etc) you might need after he’s just rearranged your guts, offering to wash you in the bath if you’re too tired to do it yourself……. he’s just so sweet and sometimes it really feels like he’s more mate than fwb. he takes such good care of you.

and of course everyone can just smell him on you like he’s your perfume. you’ve come to savanaclaw so often that everyone just knows you by your scent and it always has jack’s hackles raising because the idea of you being with anyone else makes him feel so itchy. >_< and perhaps jack starts smelling like you as well after your many encounters. what you and jack get up to is no secret. at least, not to those with keen noses.

if he isn’t careful, he might end up confessing. he’ll huff and insist that this is only a friend helping a friend sort of deal and nothing more, but you can clearly see the way his face heats up and the eager speed at which his tail wags. jack likes you and maybe one day you’ll feel the same (if you don’t already).

also. accidental knotting. :)

#meraki mumbles

[patchwork-crow-writes]

I just realised something about Rouxls Kaard that's... kinda blown my mind a little.

It always struck me as so odd, how confident he was that we wouldn't be able to beat his "puzzles" in Chapter 1. You know, the ones where you push a block one or two spaces onto a switch. He seems so sure that he has thwarted the Fun Gang, and is genuinely flabbergasted when it's solved in a matter of seconds. The whole thing's set up like a joke - haha, look at how stupid this poser looks, thinking he's outsmarted us with such a basic puzzle we've seen thousands of times before. Honestly, I didn't give it much thought afterwards, aside from the odd titter.

But then I learned about the concept of the Magic Circle - the contract entered into by a game and its player(s) that binds them to follow the rules of that game in order to participate, and ultimately win or lose. For this to work, a set of rules need to be agreed upon beforehand, whether that's by the game telling you what they are, the players coming up with their own, or memorising them through repetition and familiarity.

Now, us gamers have seen block-pushing puzzles like these hundreds, if not thousands of times before, so we already know what the premise of RK's puzzle is - push the block onto the switch. We don't even have to think about it for more than one second before we've fully understood the terms of the "game" we've engaged with him, and trounce it with minimal effort.

So guess what we also don't think about? The fact that Rouxls Kaard does not ever explain what the puzzle actually IS, much less what the rules of the puzzle are. And this is why he seems so damn smug about his "Ultimate" puzzles - because he assumes that we don't know what those rules are, and so will flounder around at a complete loss, and at his complete mercy.

(he also doesn't account for trial-and-error, apparently...?)

Now, this establishes something terrifying - Rouxls is under absolutely NO obligation to tell the participants of his puzzles what the rules of those puzzles actually are. And that's fine when you're dealing with something as rudimentary and ubiquitous as a block-pushing puzzle, but scale up the complexity even slightly and this self-aggrandising Duke of Puzzles could very well become an absolute menace. Which makes me a little concerned about his appearances in future chapters.

And if he ends up becoming a secret boss... then God help us all.

#rambling #deltarune #Rouxls Kaard #meta #theory #analysis

[zarvasace]

Next is Depth! He is dark Sky. (He gets his own special dramatic portrait—the perspective mostly works? Idk I need to practice and find some good refs for this sort of thing.) So much rambling about him and his design under the cut.

Masterpost

The most striking thing about Depth is how normal he looks. Disregarding a few odd features, he looks like Just Some Guy, at least until he opens his mouth. He occasionally feigns being mute around others so he can keep the charade of being human up for longer, since his voice sounds truly awful. Depth is paler than Sky with much darker hair and orange-red eyes, but is otherwise identical. He doesn't mind that, and chooses to play it up a bit with very similar clothes, too. His tunic is rust-colored, opposite Sky’s spring green, and his chainmail is pointed and jagged on the ends instead of smooth. He wears a purple sash with more angular designs and lines, which matches the purple charm that keeps his cape on. 

Depth’s sailcloth is both a source of pride and a sore spot. He made it to contrast Sky’s, dark and tattered, but one of his very secret desires is to get one as beautiful as Sky’s, made by Sun, maybe dark, but functional and lovely and a reminder of her. 

See, Depth doesn't understand Sun—he doesn't actually know her, though he has memories from Sky. He wants her to be a damsel in distress that he can rescue, he dreams of her choosing him over his Light, but he doesn't realize that she won't. He loves his idea of her. While Depth follows [insert LU bad guy here]’s directives, he makes his own plans and he has his own agendas, and many of those plans aid him, in some way, to win Sun’s affection. 

However, as Depth has been growing into the leader role, he's starting to become attached to the other Darks. He's annoyed by them, but his plans have started to expand to benefit them in a way that doesn't necessarily benefit him, too. He might have a little altruism in him, after all. 

Despite that, unfortunately, Depth remains someone who would not save the world, but someone who intends to damn it over and over again. He doesn't flinch at the thought of Demise’s curse, in fact, he would welcome it. He likes the idea of having a purpose and a destiny. He wants to coddle the few people he cares about and would set everything on fire to do it. He says he loves Sun more than Sky ever could, but he would lock her away to keep her "safe."

Depth is the de facto leader of the group, since he's driven and has ambition. He has a very strict idea of what the other Darks should be doing and gets upset when they don't do it. He hates being touched and is ruthlessly practical. Once, when Nothing was being particularly annoying and tried to steal Depth’s sailcloth, Depth broke at least one of Nothing's fingers. He hasn't gotten close to injuring someone like that again, due to equal parts nobody bothering him like that again and him trying to be a little gentler. He doesn't hesitate to threaten injury to keep order, though. 

Depth knows about Ghirahim as a sword, and wants to wield it, but is under the impression that he needs to prove himself worthy first. (Whether or not [LU bad guy] actually intends to let him use it is a different story.) Depth is one of the more skilled sword fighters among the Darks, remembering formal training, but his sword isn't anything special. In a fight with Sky, they would be evenly matched if it weren't for Sky’s ability to use a Skyward Strike, and Depth's inability to block that much light. 

Depth’s special ability is his voice. In a mundane way, the others try to not make him use it, because it's almost painful to hear. In a magical way, Depth’s voice carries over long distances. When he sings, he can summon creatures like bats, crows, rats, and snakes, and they'll listen to him for a time. When he screams, his voice is a magical, short-range wave of destruction. Yes, he's an evil Disney Princess. Depth doesn't feel any strong affinity for the animals he attracts, but he doesn't let Dire or anyone else hurt them, and he doesn't send them to their deaths. He mostly uses them as spies and distractions. 

Depth is one of the more dangerous members of the Dark Chain—not because he’s physically imposing or particularly powerful, but because he can see beyond the next mission and is determined to ruin the Lights once and for all. He's one of those who would happily kill his Light—but only after Depth shows him how he has lost everything dear to him. 

#my art #lu z darks au #is this even lu anymore #i mean technically im using the lu interpretations so okay #linked universe

[luimagines]

Two in a Bush

Another commission!

They asked for Reader getting separated in a dungeon and Wild panics to find them. :D 

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Wild wasn’t sure what to expect of a place like this.

He didn’t have anything like this in his world. He had the Divine Beasts that he had to figure out but those were giant mechanical weapons. Not some fortress that had a hidden secret at the end. 

Comparing the two- he supposes they aren’t all that different. From the monsters, to the puzzles, to even the multiple floors for a few of them, Wild could confidently say that he still had no idea what he was doing. Luckily, many of the others seemed to have more than enough practice and experience to go around. Wild was more than happy to leave the spearheading to them.

It gave him an excuse to look after you instead.

You were a special circumstance amongst this group of heroes. It caught Wild’s attention in more ways than one.

It was just unfortunate that you had zero fighting experience like the rest of them. Not that he personally considered it a fault of yours, don’t misunderstand him, but the idea of being with a group that does nothing but fight without being able to fight didn’t sit right with him. Granted, he was happy and delighted by the idea that you came from a place where you could live normally. It made him jealous in a good way. He wanted that for himself as well- but you would have had it from the beginning and that’s something that he knew he would never achieve.

However this also meant that they would have to be on the lookout for you specifically. Without any knowledge of how to properly defend yourself, it meant that they would have to pick up the slack.

Not that they would ever phrase it that way and much less to your face. Wild had thought that he could take the opportunities to look cooler and more heroic in an attempt to catch your attention but even he knew that it was a fool’s dream to picture it that way… That didn’t stop him from day dreaming though.

Regardless, he stuck by your side as the group explored the dungeon, sword at the ready and willing to defend you if needed.

You seemed content to explore the dungeon just like the rest of them, keeping pace and looking around with childlike wonder on your face. It made Wild smile.

Suddenly, the group was attacked.

Everyone sprang into action, Wild included to take down the threats in the new room. While there was usually only a handful per section, this room had an unusually high amount of monsters. It took all hands on deck to diminish the threat and clear the area before they could continue exploring.

Wild was lucky enough to stay behind the larger hoard of monsters, shooting at the threats to help his brother before they broke the line. He switched to his sword and charged ahead, slashing the threats along with the others until there weren’t any left. Tired, but relieved, Wild turned back to you with a smile on your face.

But you were nowhere to be seen.

His heart dropped and so did his sword from his hand. The metal clang echoed in the room. “Guys?”

Many turned their heads to him. 

Wild looked back to the group asking for where you were, prompting them to look around the room as well. Wild didn’t like the looks on their faces as they came to the same conclusion they did.

“Where did they go?” Wind scratched the top of their head.

“Were they pushed out of the room?” Twilight stood straighter, jogging to the entrance for a better look.

Hyrule followed the Rancher without missing a beat. “If they didn’t, then we have a bigger problem on our hands than any puzzle we can find in this dungeon.”

Wild could feel his anxiety rise within him. You were right there. How could he lose you? There’s still more monsters to go through. You can’t fight them. You can’t. He needs to find you. He needs to find you now.

“Oh hello.” Legend whistles, calling the attention of the others. “Champion, were you over here at first?”

Wild turns around and nods. “Yeah, I tried to keep them here so they wouldn’t be cornered so easily if they had to run.”

He doesn’t like the look on Legend’s face. There’s a panel on the wall but Wild didn’t think much of it at first.

Legend points to it. “Who wants to bet they’re on the other side?”

“What?” Warrior furrows his eyebrows. “What does a weird wall with a human shape have to do with-”

Legend grins and places himself in the human imprint. The wall spins suddenly with a quiet whirr and returns to its original position. Without Legend in it.

Wild doesn’t want to waste any time. He runs to the panel despite the cries of the other boys, too in shock over Legend’s disappearance to stop him from doing the same. He places his back to the metal and gasps as it spins just as it did for the Veteran.

He comes face to face with another room entirely and takes a step away. The wall stays the same. 

Legend dusts himself as he takes in the new room. He’s looking at the map they collected earlier, trying to figure out where they go and where this would lead. He’s scratching the side of his head, pushing his hat to a dangerous edge where it could fall off with one movement. He looks perplexed. He doesn’t seem to like what he’s seeing. Wild doesn’t want to think about going into uncharted waters and what that could mean for you.

Wild scans the room as well. There’s some more monster hidden in the shadows to his left and there’s a deadend to his right. In front of him, there is a hallway just beyond the room but there’s another exit just ahead of the monsters.

The monsters notice him and begin to make their way closer to the duo. The wall behind them spins again, signaling the arrival of a third member but Wild pays no attention to it.

He still can’t find you so he takes off running, picking a random exit in hopes that it leads him to where you could be. How far could you get in such a short time? Surely he could catch up in time before something happens, right?

He hears the Four call after him but he pays no mind to it. Footsteps begin to echo behind him along with the muffled cries of the monsters as they were shot on sight.

Wild takes a deep breath and looks around. He finds a new spot but there’s still no sign of you, even as he desperately begins to call for your name. There’s more monsters in this new room and he’s quick to deal with them. His building panic and frustration adds fuel to the fire as he channels it into a quiet rage to kill the offending beasts.

Once the room is empty, it remains empty. Not wanting to waste any more time, Wild turns on his heels and runs out as fast as his feet can carry him. 

He’s already lost. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where the others are, nor does he hear them anymore. His breath is the only sound to surround him. It comes out haggard and stunted. He coughs- feeling a drop of saliva attempt to go down the wrong pipe.

Wild whips his head up, not bothering to continue catching his breath. He starts running again, finding a new path into a new room. There’s more monsters and he deals with them as quickly as the prior ones. 

Panic has fully set into his bones as each turn produces more and more failure.

Tears well up in eyes and in his frustration, Wild punches the wall. He hurts his hands more than he hurts the wall.

As in response, he hears a sound. It’s muffled and faint, but he can hear the familiar cry of rage and determination just beyond the bricks and mortar. It’s a battle cry.

It sounds like you.

Spurred on by the sound, Wild goes on the attack. He beats the wall with everything he has before the ground beneath him gives way. He tumbles and instinctually tucks himself into a ball. Wild wraps his arms around his head and uses his legs to try and gain control of his graceless descent. He eventually comes to a grinding halt and he unfurls himself from the positions he’s put himself in.

He is only inches away from the edge of what appears to be a cliff. His heart jumps at the sight as he rolls away.

Wild, remembering why he had tried to get through the wall to begin with, pushes himself to his feet.

A monster cries before it dies, quickly followed by more and more sounds of pain and anger. Another battle cry rings out, this time much more clear than what Wild had heard previously. 

It is most definitely you.

Wild looks over the edge hesitantly. It would be great if he had finally found you… But it would be a hit to his psyche if he were to see you in battle. He’s afraid of what he might see. Are you hurt? Are you terrified?

He looks over anyway.

Instead of terror, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that same determined look on your face that he’s seen on so many other faces. Your eyebrows are closely knit together and there’s a glint in your eyes that he’s never seen before.

They’re hardened and sharp. There’s an ax in your hand that you no doubt stole from one of the monsters you must have come across. You look angry and there’s multiple splatters of blood over your clothes and exposed skin. The fabric that covers sticks to your body from the sweat you’ve produced from the intensity you’ve put into defending yourself. 

Wild finds himself glued to your figure. You fight ferociously even though your lack of training is evident. He watches you with his jaw agape and his hand on the handle of the sheikah slate. He’s entranced. This is hot.

The sheikah makes the familiar sound of a picture being taken before he reaches for his bow. From above, he aims for the monsters that come against you. His attacks throw the monsters into confusion as they search for the second hidden threat. The distraction gives you the perfect opportunity to strike them back and finish them off.

Once the last of the monsters has fallen, its body fallen beside the others, you take the last remaining part of your sleeve and wipe your forehead. You smear the blood splotches over your cheek in the process. Wild takes another picture. You look up, using your hand to try and block out any competing light and see him.

Wild snaps one more picture, hoping that it catches the way you instantly relax and smile up at him. He hopes he catches the way your eyes light up at the sight of him and the way you’ve held the weapon high in the air in greeting, making it look more like a victory stance over your enemies. He waves back enthusiastically. He’s never felt more proud in his life. “You did it!”

“Link!” You cry back and drop the weapon. You run close to the cliff, craning your neck to your sight on him. “You found me!”

Maybe you didn’t hear him.

Wild shakes his head affectionately and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t see your eyebrows furrow again or the confused tilt to your head. Instead, Wild takes a running leap and jumps off of the cliff. He opens up the paraglider and uses it to glide down safely to where you stand.

You run to him before he hits the ground, nearly tackling him as he lands. Wild wraps his arms around you instinctually, calming his pounding heart now that you’ve returned safely to his arms. You take in a shuddering breath and tuck your face into the crook of his neck. You feel inclined to repeat yourself. “You found me.”

“I wouldn’t stop searching until I did.” Wild whispers. He pulls back and wipes the remaining blood off of your face. “What happened? How did you end up here?”

You smile sheepishly and scratch the back of your neck. “During that first fight, I got pushed back far enough into the wall. It spun around and next thing I knew, I was in another room. I saw the monsters on the far end and figured that it would be better to not be spotted. I snuck out and only ran into more monsters so I kept going. Next thing I know I ended up down here and couldn’t not fight back.”

“Where did you even get the ax?”

“I stole it.”

Wild snickers and finally lets you go. His hands rest on your shoulders, rubbing them affectionately. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

You grin in return, putting on a smirk. “I just pretended they were customers on Black Friday. I’ve always wanted to fend them off with a stick.”

He has no idea what that means. “Ok- but you had an ax and they were monsters.”

“...High stakes Black Friday shoppers.”

Wild hangs his head in defeat. He tries his hardest to not laugh at your facial expression. It seems as if you know what you’re talking about at least, so it’s a small comfort. “Alright. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Are the others waiting for us?” You take his hand, stepping in time with him as he takes a good look around this new area. For the better part, it looks like a ditch with no way in or out- except for above.

“Sooomething like that.” Wild chews on his lip, switching to his climbing gear. He picks you up with zero hesitation, throwing you onto his back and he begins to scale the wall. You yelp and shriek, hitting his back as he climbs.

“Hey! A warning would have been great!”

“Hang on. I got this.”

“...Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

You snort. He’s ignoring your tone on purpose. Slowly, you adjust yourself on his back so you don’t fall off and wait until he’s reached the top. Once he lets you down, you smack the back of his head.

He blocks it effortlessly, leaning in instead to kiss your cheek. There’s laughter on his breath as he checks you out once more.  “I hope you're ready for a lot of walking. I’ll have you know that we are very lost.”

“Are we?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Oh.” You think for a moment and look back at Wild. You end up chewing on your lip as well. “Are we in trouble?”

“You? No. Me? Most definitely.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #lu wild #the title was a placeholder #and it stuck #it has nothing to do with the story ^.^*

[pin-k-ink]

short nishinoya drabble

a/n: another rewritten version of the noya fic i made years ago

Nishinoya sat quietly, his heart racing as he watched you intently. Your soft mumbles filled the room as your eyes skimmed over his homework, a habit he found utterly adorable. The way the words tumbled out of your lips as you read, unaware of your own actions, made his heart swell with affection.

But there was something about you that irritated him to no end. It was your hand, laying on your lap, empty and limp. It looked so lonely, as if it was begging to be held. Or maybe that was just his own desperate desire to intertwine his fingers with yours.

He couldn't help but imagine how your hands would feel in his. They were slightly calloused, he noticed, though he didn't know from what. But he was certain they would be undeniably soft. The urge to reach over and tug your hand into his was overwhelming.

Would your hands be smaller than his? Would you flinch away from his touch, or would you reciprocate with equal fervor? These questions swirled in his mind, consuming his thoughts.

The only thing stopping him from acting on his desires was your twin brother, Sugawara. It was no secret that Sugawara was fiercely protective of you, always defensive about other boys being around you. Even allowing Nishinoya to be tutored by you had taken a great deal of convincing and a series of warnings, each one laced with an underlying threat.

But from the first moment he met you, Nishinoya was enamored. And that feeling had only grown stronger with each passing day. His teammates had noticed the change in him. The usually loud and boisterous second year had become calmer, interacting with Kiyoko like any other team member. He was more focused, performing better in matches.

Yet, he still failed his tests. It wasn't because he didn't know the answers. In fact, you were an excellent tutor, and he had learned so much from you. No, the real reason he intentionally got the questions wrong was because he feared he might not see you again if his grades improved. His failing grades were the only excuse he had to spend time with you, and you were the sole reason he looked forward to school every day.

Despite being Sugawara's twin, you didn't inherit any of his "motherly" attributes. You were more reserved, keeping to yourself and speaking softly. But whenever you did speak, your beautiful golden eyes would be trained on him, and he'd find himself stuttering over his words, lost in those mesmerizing orbs.

There was a certain kindness to you, one that lured him in like a moth to a flame. The rare smiles and stifled laughter that you graced only him with never failed to make his day brighter.

Without taking his eyes off your hand, Nishinoya gathered his courage and stood up from his seat near your dominant hand. He made his way around the table and sat down near your vacant one. Your concentration now broken, you looked at him, a thin, elegant eyebrow raised in question.

"What?" you asked, your voice soft and curious.

Oh god, even your voice was enough to make him nervous. He became acutely aware of why he had shifted to the other side. It was now or never. "C-can I... hold your hand?" he managed to ask, mentally patting himself on the back for only stuttering once.

You looked at him, your eyes widening ever so slightly, taken aback by his straightforwardness. Nishinoya's heart raced as he anticipated your answer, his anxiety growing with each passing second. When you turned your attention back to the paper without responding, he visibly deflated, his gaze shifting to the loose thread on his uniform.

He felt like crying. What if you thought he was weird? What if you didn't like holding hands? What if he had just ruined everything?

His spiraling thoughts were interrupted when your hand softly dropped into his lap. Surprised, he looked up at you, only to find you still focused on his essay, seemingly unfazed.

Reluctant yet eager, he slid his hand into yours, his fingers immediately twitching to intertwine with yours. Unexpectedly, you were the one who took the initiative, wrapping your soft fingers around his. It wasn't a tight grip, but he felt as if he was glued to you, never wanting to let go.

On impulse, he brought his other hand forward, clasping your soft hand between both of his, a huge smile adorning his face as he looked at yours. You tried to hide your own smile, but he could see your ears burning red and your lips pressed tightly together in a futile attempt to suppress it.

His heart soared with happiness. He glanced down at your entwined hands once more, a fond thought crossing his mind: 'Heh, hers are smaller than mine.'

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #nishinoya x reader #haikyuu nishinoya #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yuu x reader

[herdarkestnightelegance]

Nocturnal eyes

Pairing: Astarion/ g/n Tav

Tags: vulnerable Astarion, angst, friendship, a bit of fluff

Length: 2.4k words

Summary: Astarion notices something is off with his eyes …

A/N: @nyx-knox out here once again, being the ✨best✨ beta-reader I could hope for!

Also: ARE Y'ALL FOR REAL?! Over 750 reactions on my Bedhead fic?? Thank you so much 🥹!!!

Taglist: @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate , @littlelovelore, @onlyancunin @chaoticbardlady99

::::::::::::::::::

Astarion sits in the soft green grass, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun.

Today had been exhausting. The party had finally left the wilderness behind and set up camp on the Mountain Pass. Tomorrow they will head to the Githyanki Crèche, but for now … he’s just relaxing, listening to the soft rustle of the trees above him with his eyes closed.

Because they are hurting again - his damned eyes - causing his head to ache in that awful stinging way. This has been happening semi-regularly since they crashed on that beach. By the end of every day, his eyes feel exhausted. Sometimes he even welcomed the night, the dark bringing relief to his vision, much as he hated to admit that he found any solace in the darkness after having been trapped in it for so long.

It’s not that he wants to be in the dark again - on the contrary! Oh, words could never express how much he enjoys the feeling of the warmth on his skin, the smell of sun-baked earth beneath him, filling him with life, making his undead heart swell with secret joy. It’s just …

“Truly, a sight to behold,” Gale had said, when they first stepped through the gate onto the Pass and were greeted by a magnificent view of the surrounding valley … Or at least Astarion assumed that’s what it was.

Because he can’t tell. Not really. In fact, all he sees are blurry, rugged shapes and a haze of earthy colors far off in the distance.

When Astarion had first opened his eyes after the crash, all he could do was gasp audibly. The sun seared his eyes, the light brighter than anything he had seen in centuries. Immediately, he had shielded his face from the merciless rays, curled into a ball, panic taking over. “No!” he yelped. It’s daytime! I can’t be out! Oh Gods, do I smell smoke? Am I burning up?? Am I disintegrating???

But a few heartbeats passed and to his surprise - and great relief - it was not a burning pain he started to feel. Rather, it was a sensation he thought he had forgotten but that he immediately recalled, having felt it lifetimes ago: The warmth of the midday sun.

Cautiously, he had uncoiled himself and tried opening his eyes again. Gods! It hurts. Of course, Vampire eyes are sensitive to the light, in order to see better at night. An essential trait for nocturnal creatures, predators, such as himself. His eyes hadn’t had to process so much brightness in … forever. So, being blasted with daylight for the first time in roughly 200 years - it hurt like all Hells! 

It took a few moments, but eventually Astarion managed to pry open his crimson eyes. And he began to see. To look. And he saw colors he hadn’t seen in too long. He saw the bright blue sky, the deep purples of the Nautiloid shipwreck, the turquoise water covered with the most beautiful shimmering reflections. Everything was bright. Everything was so vibrant! Everything was so … full of life. He looked up, squinting at the trees and their slightly blurred leaves. Those luscious, green leaves. Gods … I had forgotten how beautiful that particular color is … 

But there had been no time for him to enjoy all those new sights for long. He heard them before he saw them. The others. Friends? Enemies? He couldn’t tell. They were just indiscernible shapes in the distance - but as soon as he had lured one of them close enough to put a knife to their throat, he was back in survival mode, forgetting about the colors he had just reveled in.

That’s what he knew how to do, after all. Hitting his close target. And really, that’s all he should care about, that’s really all he actually needs to see. He’s a master at close-up melee combat, a rogue who sneaks up to his victims, dangerous with his blade. He’s skilled at picking locks and picking pockets. And he’s an amazing lover, always able to read every detail of his victims' expressions to make sure he hits that target just as well. All he needs to see clearly is what’s right in front of him, isn’t it?

But if he was being really honest … it’s not like his usual tricks have actually worked out for him so far, now have they? His first melee attack had earned him a headbutt to the face. He had woken his first victim while sneaking up on them. And he felt his nice little seduction plan for Tav slowly and steadily backfiring on him - but that was a problem for another time. So why not top it all off with embarrassingly inadequate vampiric eyesight to really emphasize it all, he figured?

Astarion opens his eyes again and looks at the hazy, blurred valley below, the wind tousling his white locks, and he scoffs. Ironic, isn’t it? Here he is, finally free from his captor. But of course, even out in the open, he’s not able to look beyond the confines of his own metaphorical cell. As if his eyes are still keeping him prisoner.

A sound behind him snaps him out of his thoughts. Again, he hears them before he sees them coming. Only this time he knows it is a friend. “Astarion?” Tav, he thinks with a knowing smile. He knows their voice anywhere.

“Yes, Darling?” he asks as their leader emerges from the shade of the trees.

Astarion grew to enjoy Tav‘s company quite a bit, if he was being honest. Not only during their passionate encounters, but also just sitting with them, talking about their journey, about the others in their party, sometimes even about his past, which he never thought possible when he had been pressing his knife to their throat just a short time ago.

“Enjoying the view?” they ask as they sit down next to him in the soft grass.

“Oh of course,” Astarion answers as he leans back onto his elbows.

“Especially the Crèche,” Tav continues, pointing into the valley, making casual conversation.

“Why, I agree. Who would have thought the Gith were such marvelous architects,” the pale Elf replies without missing a beat. 

It’s now that Tav turns to look at him. “... Except the Crèche is in the opposite direction?” they say cautiously. 

Shit. Astarion tenses.

He hates this. They know. Immediately he is prepared to snap, to throw a sarcastic comment back at them, telling them to mind their own damn business. Feeling exposed, he keeps his gaze fixed forward, part of him expecting to see mockery, or malice even, should he meet Tav’s eyes. But when he eventually looks up … all he sees is a knowing smile. Their face is so very clear next to him, and so is the genuine fondness that greets him in their expression. The same fondness he is secretly happy to see on Tav’s face every time they look at him.

Astarion takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want his walls to go up. Not for Tav. He resists it, that stupid defensive mechanism and to his surprise, he actually relaxes a bit. “You noticed,” he says quietly.

Tav nods. “On our first day, actually.” His eyebrows go up in surprise. 

“Did you now?” the vampire asks.

“We climbed that platform next to the crash site, remember? You were first up. And you said there’s nothing to see.” Their tone is neither condescending nor reproachful. “But there was... A lot, actually. You know, like, the village? Or the goblin camp. Or, well, this mountain pass. So yeah, I noticed.”

Astarion scoffs. They were right, of course. And back then, he didn’t even realize there was something wrong with his vision. He had still been so overwhelmed with all the light and color, all this blue and green…

For a moment, both sit in silence before Astarion speaks up. “It’s all rather blurry, you know?” he finally admits aloud. “I never noticed it back in Baldur’s Gate.”

Tav listens and nods. “I thought vampirism cures all mortal ailments, even eye problems.”

“Well, maybe there are exceptions? Or maybe I’m just a sorry excuse for a vampire spawn. Honestly, I don’t know. It’s not like any vampire is able to look at vast illuminated landscapes during the day to notice if something is off.” he says in a slightly frustrated, even embarrassed tone, gesturing towards the sunset.

“Your eyes have been adjusted to the night for 200 years. So … maybe they just need a bit to adjust to the daylight now? Give it some time.” The optimism and sweetness in Tav’s voice makes the corner of Astarion’s mouth twitch up into a half-smile.

“Wouldn’t that be something,” he says. Maybe they are right. Maybe. 

This is when Tav clears their throat. “But uhm, until then …” Astarion’s pointy ears twitch slightly as he hears Tav rummaging in their pocket. When they procure something wrapped in a folded leather cloth, he sits up.

“What’s this?” he asked, and they hand him the flat parcel. Curiously, Astarion opens the wrapping. 

In his hand lies the most hideous pair of mismatched spectacles he has ever seen. 

Before he can say anything, Tav begins to talk. “I came across this half broken pair of looking glasses while looting some time ago, and I thought, well, while there is no way we would ever find the perfect pair, we might just try making a custom one, right? I mean, it’s obvious you’re straining your eyes. You might not say anything to us about it, and you don’t have to, but I can tell that you often have a headache by the end of the day, and I, well, wanted to help.” Astarion still says nothing, inspecting the wonky looking thing in his hands.

Quickly, Tav continues, compelled to explain. “But you have no idea how hard it is to find undamaged spectacles! I mean, it makes sense, right? Who would leave their eyes behind? So anyway, I started collecting all the glasses I could find, hoping for an intact pair, but well … eventually I ended up with … this.”

The pair of spectacles in Astarion’s hand was clearly made of two halves from different glasses, held together in the middle by a thin leather cord, wrapped around it several times and in several other places. “Both glasses seemed to be made for looking at things further away. Of course, I can’t say for certain. They are not for me, I mean, if anything, I should be looking into finding a pair for me, so I can finally read that book Gale won’t shut up about. But … anyway, I thought maybe they might be of use to you.”

It’s not often that Astarion is stunned into silence. Tav did this? For him? It takes him a moment to process this … act of kindness. But when he does, he leans over to Tav, turning their face to him with a finger beneath their chin, and softly kisses them. “They … are hideous, my dear,” he says against their lips, with a chuckle and a genuine, soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, I know,” Tav agrees, kissing him back, mirroring his smile, before pulling away. “Well go on then, put them on.”

And he does. Astarion puts on the mismatched, wonky pair of improvised spectacles, the right temple barely fitting over his ear.

“Well?”, Tav asks hopefully.

With the awkward thing perched in his elegant face, the vampire looks down into the valley and takes in an almost inaudible breath. It’s … much better than he could have hoped for. Yes, it’s far from perfect. The glasses are sitting on his aquiline nose lopsided and the left glass is not even close to what he probably needs, yet he feels that nagging strain on his eyes eases immediately.

But that’s not what stuns the pale Elf.

Just as the sun begins to disappear behind the mountains, casting long shadows and a warm orange glow on everything around them, Astarion sees. And all of it this time! For the first time in 200 years, he sees the crisp outline of the setting sun. He sees the mountain tops and ridges. He sees the glowing clouds. By the Gods…

“Astarion?” Tav asks timidly, but he does not react. They sit with him in silence then, watching him watch the sunset in wonder, those red ruby eyes they love so much squinting intently, unmoving, until the glowing disk disappears behind the horizon and the sky slowly begins to turn a lovely shade of purple.

It takes a moment for Astarion to stir again. Carefully, he takes the spectacles off his face as if it’s the most precious thing he has ever owned, before looking at Tav. A lot of things are going through his head at that moment, and - much to his ever-growing confusion - through his undead heart as well. This is not a thing you just do for a travel-companion. Why are you so nice to me? I do not deserve your kindness. “Thank you.”, he eventually settles on, and he knows to Tav those simple words convey everything. 

Tav smiles. “Don’t mention it,” obviously delighted their little gift has been accepted. Why in the hells his favorite travel companion, no, his lover, went out of their way to help him like this, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Sure, they agreed to help him kill Cazador, but this is not the same! This is special. This is … caring. It is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him. And he is truly, deeply grateful.

This gift would do wonders for his vision, at least until his nocturnal eyes fully embrace looking into the far distance during the day. He knows he will look so foolish with this contraption on his nose and he would probably have to kill Gale should the wizard ever see him with them on, but somehow he didn’t mind wearing these, looking silly, unsightly even, in front of Tav. They wouldn’t judge him, they wouldn’t laugh at him. Because he feels that they care.

After a moment, Astarion puts the spectacles back on, turning his head up to the tree branches above them, that stunning green of the individual, defined leaves still visible in the dim dusk light.

“You know, Darling …”, he says, “I really do love that color.”

#ohoh ​herdarkestnightelegance wrote something #astarion fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic

[arrowheadedbitch]

Okay, I've been having some THOUGHTS

Okay, does anyone know that scene in Psych where Shawn, Gus, and Henry have to buy a car for a case and there's this joke about Shawn not knowing how to haggle and spending all their money on the car?

Okay, so my question is Does Shawn know how to haggle? Either he genuinely doesn't know how to haggle OR he's playing dumb, as we all know he loves to do, and is wasting their money because it's funny to him.

Shawn is very smart but he plays dumb so well that even Gus and Henry often forget he's a genius

So I was thinking this through, rolling it over in my head and, Shawn travelled the world with nothing but the clothes on his back! OF COURSE he knows how to haggle, so why didn't he?

From where I see it, there's 2 options,

1. He didn't realize that cars are one of those things you have to haggle on

But then someone pointed out to me on discord, what about his motorcycle?

NO WAY he payed full price for that thing! And if he haggled for IT then why wouldn't he know to haggle foe a car despite never buying one?

So, this leads to option 2

2. Shawn KNEW he was supposed to haggle but doesn't care about money and likes pretending to be stupid so he wasted their money on purpose for the bit

Gus will wake up in a cold sweat in 10 years with the realization that Shawn did it on purpose and call him at 2am to yell at him about it.

But, what about secret option number 3?

That's right! There's a secret 3rd option:

3. Shawn relies on his OP charisma stat to get things for free when traveling the world, he manipulated and charmed his way into traveling the world, he's never had to actually haggle because his go to is charisma

What I'm getting at is Shawn went "Haha, I'm not doing that in front of my dad, I will pay full price."

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

#psych #psych tv #psych usa #shawn spencer #shawn and gus #henry spencer #burton guster #🍍 #haggle

[kaeyachi]

So...I finished the Arlecchino story quest...

Spoilers below!

TW: Mentions of Suicide, Child Experimentation, Child Abuse, and Murder/Death

This is, by far, the best story quest I have ever done!

First of all, CHILDE?! CHILDE ESCAPING HIS PERSONAL AMBULANCE TO SNEZHNAYA JUST TO COME BACK TO FONTAINE TO ASK SKIRK A QUESTION? Bro is so funny, please-

please save him.

Wait, actually, yeah please do save him. Pulcinella and Pantalone are both plotting in the background, and they got Childe involved...

I also loved the children! Look at how terrifying they are! They're my absolute faves!!

Lyney cementing the reason as to why Arlecchino chose him as the next King is wonderful to see as well. For some time, I thought Freminet and Lynette had a shot, even with reading their lore. What I have failed to realize is that Lyney really is the inspiration for all of the people in the House of the Hearth. His frustrated and disappointed spiel about Freminet not trusting him with Clervie struck me to the heart. This is an older brother at work here people!

Also if I had a nickel every time a cryo younger brother hid a dangerous secret from his pyro older brother which got them into an argument once the truth came out, I'd have 2 nickels ✌️ (somehow gave me war flashbacks to a scene that doesn't even exist lmao)

LYNETTE IS THE FUNNIEST SIBLING BTW. SHE'S MY QUEEN FOR THIS.

Clervie! Our dearest! I'm not fully sure what part in her design did it, but she barely looks like an NPC somehow. Like, yes, this is still an NPC base model, but... is it perhaps the hair? And the extra lashes??

Also, her calling Arlecchino "Perrie" made me sob. I wasn't ready to hear nicknames!!

The mention of Snezhnayan auroras also made me sob again as well. You know what? This entire thing made me sob.

Clervie's dread and horror at the thought of her own mother, her unrelenting spirit that kept her going in her fight for her fellow peers freedom despite the abuse that she will receive, and her unfulfilled dreams repeatedly being mentioned throughout this quest was heartbreaking.

I do have to say- the animations they released for Arlecchino helped a lot with the emotions we are supposed to feel for this quest. Not only was that good Advertising and promotion for the Arlecchino banner, it also set up the plot that would have not been well presented ingame had they chose to do that instead.

Crucabena and Clervie part of this quest were not the only ones mentioned in this quest, but also that damn dude that she killed with her heels! I personally like the way they released all those animations because the quest feels more emotional and alive now, and we could follow with the story better than before (and it effectively increased the hype)

Speaking of more alive, the facial expressions have definitely improved! This quest had them utilizing various expressions well, specifically for the playable characters, so, again, this really helped with the feel of the quest.

Additionally, adding a picture to scenes also set the tone really well. It's not that pictures have never been included in quests before, but the way these were framed(?) made it look way better than the ones before.

By the way...is it just me? Or did Paimon's voice somewhat mellow out for this quest? I had recently played some other story and world quests, and Paimon's EN voice is admittedly high-pitched and painful to hear in those, but for this quest, it's as if her voice was toned down (like Mondstadt Paimon, but with current Paimon energy). I'm hoping this was them taking the criticism from past and adjusting their instructions to Paimon's VA accordingly, because I loved Paimon's voice in this quest (that or I'm delulu)

Quick lore tidbits before I go back to gushing about this quest:

1. Arlecchino confirmed not from Fontaine (like I legit thought she may be Khaenri'ahn due to the blood moon thing she has going for her, but it's nice to confirm her non-Fontainian status)

2. Crucabena was the one who had a deal with Dottore on sending members of the HotH to him for experimentation. Anyone who was physically impaired or left alive after a duel to death are automatically sent to him. Clervie has described this as a fate worse than death... Peruere rejected Dottore's partnership offer once she became the next knave. Also, Crucabena used Clervie as an "example" for those who wish to escape, meaning Clervie received the most abuse (which apparently worsened as the years went by). Clervie lost hope sometime along the way and was basically suicidal as well by the time she and Arlecchino had their duel... Her mindset by that time is that the only hope for freedom to her is death. The popular theory of Clervie letting Arlecchino kill her is proven in a horrifying way with this discovery... (yes, she wanted Arlecchino to be the king, but at the same time, she took this situation as a chance to hit 2 birds with 1 stone)

3. Project Stuzha is apparently something highly dangerous, and Pulcinella and Pantalone are trying to get Childe and Arlecchino involved (Childe was told to aide the project by Pulcinella, while Arlecchino says she doesnt want the HotH to be involved in it)

4. Here is me reannouncing that I am in fact taking the L on the Freminet and Crucabena situation. Basically, the timeline is that at age 16, Clervie dies, and we are left with a 1 year time period for a 6 year old Freminet to enter under Crucabena (I'm guessing this is either a retcon or a means to hide the Arlecchino plot by not having them directly say mother in Freminet's character story 4). After that said 1 year, Peruere kills Crucabena and has spent several months in Snezhnaya before reviving the House of the Hearth and adopting Lyney and Lynette (perhaps the children of Crucabena's HotH simply stuck together during that time)

Basically, yes, Arlecchino is in her mid-20s. Not my personal cup of tea, but hey, genshin ages are confusing most days (Ayato is older than her, and Ayaka may actually be older than her as well... ugh I need a moment please... I MAY BE THE SAME AGE AS HER. NO-)

5. Freminet used to also call Lyney "brother". What changed that, I'm not sure (and if I had a nickel...), but the thought of baby Freminet following around big bro Lyney and big sis Lynette makes my heart melt. Freminet actually cried after Lyney basically told him how important Fremi is to him, so whoever made Freminet think otherwise... 😡 they better square up because we ride at dawn

ok back to me gushing

THE BOSS FIGHT? IT WAS SO COOL! It was beautifully animated, and the fact that they added this at the end?

The fear on the traveler's eyes upon realization of what true power Arlecchino held was amazing imo. We canonically cannot defeat Arlecchino in her boss fight! She will be a weekly boss that we can defeat, but in actuality, we really cannot beat the number 4 of the Fatui Harbringers.

We now have actual proof that harbringers 1-4 are not within our capabilities to challenge, and to add to that horror, this is us fighting Arlecchino with Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet. This is also actual proof that we, the traveler, cannot defeat a ton of other characters as well! (were cooked if we never get a power boost and plot armor✌️)

Also let me sneak in this picture:

Cunty as fck. Powerpuff girls energy. They're the Heathers, and we, the traveler, are Veronica.

And finally, the last part of my commentary that cemented this quest as my top 1:

Everything Arlecchino has done for the House of the Hearth, it was all thanks to Clervie and her dreams.

Arlecchino has shaped the HotH into a more honest relationship between her as the father and them as her children. Everything Clervie hated about the old HotH is now nonexistent in this version.

The children could be set free.

Duels are not to death.

They will not be sent to their doom if they lose.

This is everything that Clervie dreamed of, and this is everything Clervie tragically never got to see and experience because she lost all hope.

Clervie's story ended in tragedy, but Peruere lived and breathed Clervie's dreams for her anyway. Seeing the aurora was the start of Peruere finding the goal of living Clervie's dream, and now, Arlecchino strives to do her best to see those dreams come to fruition.

And the qualities that Peruere admired in Clervie are the same qualities that made her want Lyney to become the next king. Hopeful, caring, protective, passionate, and full of conviction. Lyney will take the mantle and live and breathe for Clervie's and Peruere's dreams someday.

Honestly, I have more to say, but I think this is a good place to stop for now. The dynamics of all these characters have made this experience worthwhile, and I hope that genshin continues with this sort of style in the future. Here's to more amazing stories from genshin!

Bonus screenshot while we are still here:

#genshin spoilers #arlecchino #lyney #lynette #freminet #genshin 4.6 spoilers #tw: suicide mention #tw: abuse mention #tw: experimentation #tw: mentions of death #tw: mentions of abuse #you know what #I'll say it here in the tags #clervie wouldve loved mondstadt #she wanted to be a bard! her reaction to mond was so cute!