#And when it comes to bottoms I really don't know like

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Boss politics antitrust

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/12/the-enemy-of-your-enemy/#is-your-enemy

Xi Jinping inaugurated his second term with an anti-corruption purge that ran from 2012-2015, resulting in a massive turnover in the power structures of Chinese society.

At the time, people inside and outside of China believed that Xi was using the crackdown to target his political enemies and consolidate power. Certainly, that was the effect of the purge, which paved the way for reforms to Chinese law that have effectively allowed Xi to hold office for life.

In 2018, Peter Lorentzen (USF Econ) and Xi Lu (NUS Policy) published a paper that used clever empirical methods to get to the bottom of this question:

https://web.archive.org/web/20181222163946/https://peterlorentzen.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Lorentzen-Lu-Crackdown-Nov-2018-Posted-Version.pdf

Working from the extensive data-files published during the corruption trials of the purged officials, Lorentzen and Xi Liu were able to estimate the likelihood that an official had really been corrupt. They concluded that overwhelmingly, the anti-corruption purges did target corrupt officials, some of them very highly placed.

But when they considered the social graph of those defenestrated officials, they found that they came from blocs that were rivals of Xi Jinping and his circle, while officials who were loyal to Xi Jinping's were spared, even when they were corrupt.

In other words, Xi Jinping's anticorruption efforts targeted genuinely corrupt officials – but only if they supported Xi's rivals. Xi's own cronies were exempted from this. Xi did use the anticorruption effort to consolidate power, but that doesn't mean he prosecuted the innocent – rather, he selectively prosecuted the guilty.

Donald Trump will be America's next president. He campaigned against "elites" and won the support of Americans who were rightly furious at being ripped off and abused by big business. The Biden administration had done much to tackle this corruption, starting with July 2020's 72-point executive order creating a "whole of government" approach to fighting corporate power:

https://www.eff.org/de/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

Trump will have to decide what to do about these efforts. It's easy to say that Trump will just kill them all and let giant, predatory corporations rip, but I think that's wrong. After all, the Google antitrust case that the DoJ just won started under the last Trump administration. Trump also sued to block the absolutely terrible merger between Warner and AT&T.

I think it's safer to say that Trump will selectively target businesses for anticorruption enforcement – including antitrust – based on whether they oppose him or suck up to him. I think American business leaders know it, too, which is why every tech boss lined up to give Trump a public rim-job last week:

https://daringfireball.net/2024/11/i_wonder

Trump killed the AT&T-Time Warner merger to punish CNN. He went after Google to punish "woke" tech firms. That doesn't make AT&T, Time Warner or Google good. They're terrible monopolists and the US government should be making their lives miserable.

Trump will not need to falsify evidence against corporations that are disloyal to him. All of America's big businesses are cesspits of sleaze, fraud and predation. Every merger that is being teed up now for the coming four years is illegal under the antitrust laws that we stopped enforcing in the Reagan era and only dusted off again for four years under Biden. They're all guilty, which means that Trump will be able to bring a valid case against any of them.

This will create a trap for people who hate Trump but don't pay close attention to anticorruption cases. It's a trap that Trump sprung successfully in his first term, when he lashed out at the "intelligence community" – the brutal, corrupt, vicious, lawless American spy agencies that are the sworn enemies of working people and the the struggle for justice at home and abroad – and American liberals decided that the enemy of their enemy was their friend, and energetically sold one another Robert Mueller votive candles:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/18/schizmogenesis/

Over the next four years, Trump will use antitrust and other corruption-taming regulations to selective punish crooked companies. He won't target them because they're crooked: he'll target them because they aren't sufficiently loyal to him.

If you let your hatred of Trump blind you to the crookedness of these companies, you lose and Trump wins. The reason Trump will find it easy to punish these companies is that they are all guilty. If you let yourself forget that, if you treat your enemy's enemy as your friend, then Trump will point at his political rivals and call them apologists for corruption and sleaze – and he'll be right.

It is possible for Trump to fight corruption corruptly. That's exactly what he'll do. But just because Trump hates these companies, it doesn't follow that we should love them.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, references to domestic abuse, mild sexuality

"Daryl?" you called down the stairs. It was dark down there, but not entirely. You could tell he had a dim light on. "I'm coming down!"

When you passed the doorframe at the bottom of the steps, you found him sitting on the edge of his bed with a bottle in his hands. He was staring at it like the label was in a foreign language, even though you could read "Buffalo Trace" from where you stood.

"What happened?" you asked him, your voice seemingly breaking his trance. He looked up at you, almost sheepishly, but only for a split second.

Daryl gulped at the tightness in his throat and shrugged. "Nothin' happened. Least—not to me," he said pointedly.

Your stomach somehow seemed to both sink and twist at the same time and you opened your mouth to say something but you came up empty. You struggled for something to say. "Where'd you get that?" you asked gesturing to the bottle.

"Oh, I—I found it on a run a while back. I always got a bottle of somethin' tucked away, ya know. Never know when ya might need it." He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"So, you're just planning on getting piss drunk then? Is that what this is?" you asked, and you couldn't keep an edge out of your voice. For the first time since you'd come in, Daryl looked up at you—really looked. He stared for a long moment and then reached over and set the bottle down on his nightstand with a loud clack.

He stood up, his broad shoulders and chest on full display as he paced over to you, his blue eyes narrowed. You found yourself backing up and suddenly your back hit the wall. A small gasp of surprise left you. Daryl still stepped in one more time, breaching that small buffer of space you usually maintained and staying there. "So, yer just gonna go back with him? Stay with him?" he growled.

You let out a shaky breath. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Yer s'posed to leave his ass before he fuckin' kills you. Or before I kill him," Daryl growled.

You gulped, your eyes flickering between his. "If I try to leave, then he will kill me," you whispered.

Daryl let out a long sigh and placed his palm flat on the wall beside your head, leaning toward you. With his other hand, he brushed a stray strand of your hair away from your face. "Ya really think I'd ever let a damn thing like that happen," he whispered.

Your heart was racing and your chest heaved with your breath now. You don't know for sure who started it—not for sure. It could have been that you reached up and placed your palm in the center of his chest and spoke his name. Or it could have been that Daryl simply crashed his lips down on yours, gripped your hip and pressed against you. It didn't matter. The next moment you were entirely wrapped up in him, entangled in each other. Before you knew it, he was kissing your neck and his hands were wandering your curves. Your fingers were in his hair and beneath his shirt, running over his strong muscles and hitching on his scars. Daryl lifted you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him heatedly as he carried you to his bed and tipped you back onto it, crawling over you, desperate to keep his lips on yours or kissing your soft skin. One hand on your hip and the other smoothing over your arm and then lacing with your fingers, the heat between the two of you was building to a temperature that would surely consume you both.

But suddenly—reality came back and with a tremendous effort your ragged breathing turned into saying his name again. He felt you pulling back, pulling away. He leaned up over you and his blue eyes flickered over your face.

"I—I can't," you gasped, and it sounded like it broke your heart to say it. "We can't..."

You watched the turmoil roiling in his eyes. You hoped he could see how desperate for him you were... and understand why you couldn't.

"He dun deserve you... not that I do either," he breathed, still caged over your body, the heat of him pouring into your skin. He brushed your hair back from your face so tenderly that tears filled your eyes and you pulled in a stuttered breath. "But at least I'd always treat ya righ'. I'd never lay a hand on ya. Ya know that."

A tear broke out and ran down toward your temple. Daryl wiped the streak from your cheek. "I know," you said.

"We can have this. I can keep ya safe. Deal with him."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Then don't. Just let me do it."

No prompt today... and maybe a full one shot on this soon? One of those things that just appeared and struck me until I put it down. I'm working on our next update to The Ghost series, but it's been slow going with real life things happening! So hang in there with me.

[ssentimentals]

Hii can i request mingyu + hurt prompt #34? Thankssss

hi sweets! thank you for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

hurt prompts: 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?'

someone is caressing your hand. it's a nice feeling to wake up, especially when you know who is responsible for said action. mingyu's face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes and you smile a little. mingyu doesn't smile back and memories of last night rush in, reminding you why you're waking beside him and not in his arms. before panic rises, you remind yourself that mingyu is caressing your hand gently now, so everything can't be that mad.

'morning,' you whisper, afraid to talk in a normal voice for some reason.

'morning.' mingyu repeats and clears his throat. 'slept well?'

you don't really remember how you fell asleep; probably knocked out from crying and fighting. arguments with mingyu were rare but whenever they did happen, they sucked all the energy out of you, leaving you drained and exhausted. truth to be told, you don't even remember coming to the bedroom, so mingyu probably carried you here once you fell asleep in the living room.

'not really,' you reply, not feeling rested at all. 'you?'

he shakes his head. when you first started dating, you both promised each other to never go to bed angry, so what happened last night is an exception of sorts. 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?' mingyu asks quietly, voice muffled by the pillow.

your mouth opens but nothing comes out. to your horror, you don't even remember about which things mingyu is talking exactly - a lot of stuff was said yesterday and not all of it was said due to anger or frustration. but mingyu is sensitive, always has been in a much more delicate headspace than you, so you tiptoe around the question, looking for the right answer while also staying honest: 'any of the mean and angry words - no. i love you, gyu, i'd never actually mean any of those. but what i said about the whole thing, like in the beginning, what made me upset in the first place.. yeah, i meant that. i stand by it even now.'

mingyu doesn't say anything at first. he just stares at your hands, chewing on his bottom lip, thinking about your answer. you both treasure honesty the most, so he knows you're being sincere. 'okay.' he settles for in the end, taking a deep breath. 'i also didn't mean everything i said after we moved from the kitchen to the living room.'

you smile and hesitantly interlace your fingers together. 'i know, gyu.'

he nods again and squeezes and when he does that, you feel like you can breathe again. if mingyu is not declining physical contact, if he's still here then you two can work it out. 'we don't have to do it now,' you say, not wanting to get up. 'we can just lay here for a while.'

sigh that mingyu lets out on this is full of relief. 'yes. yes- yeah. please.'

you both move in sync, slotting your bodies together until it's impossible to tell where one ends and another one begins. 'sleep a bit more for now,' mingyu whispers, holding you tight. 'i'll be here when you wake up.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[marvelfanfics1]

s2 rafe losing his temper ౨ৎ⋆ ˚.⋆

Rafe closes the front door of Tannyhill, resting his forehead against it and huffing out a breath. His wet and dirty clothes cling to his body and he licks his lips, tasting the dried up blood from his altercation with Pope he clenches his jaw before striding up the stairs to his room.

You sit up the moment the door opens, smiling brightly but it drops as quickly as it formed when you see the state Rafe is in, completely muddy and blood under his nose and splattered on his cheeks.

Your eyes widen and you scurry off the bed, approaching him you start to touch him all over with a frown on your face. "Daddy? Wha' happened? S'you hurt?"

As you keep fussing over him he closes his eyes, his head twitching to the side, muttering. "Stop..."

You continue to ask and press him to answer, too focused on figuring out what happened or if he's alright to hear him.

"Stop." He says again and when you don't seem to listen he snatches your wrist in his hands, suddenly snapping at you. "I said stop! Jesus. You're so clingy, I just want one damn second without you being all over me is that so hard to understand, huh?"

He looks so angry, you have often seen him mad but never were the one to receive the brunt end of it and it scares you. Rafe scares you right now.

You shrink in on yourself, looking up at him with a quivering bottom lip while you try to blink back tears when he lets go of you again harshly.

Rafe shoves past you and heads for his bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You stare after him before your face crumples, feeling guilty for wanting to help him and pushing him so far that he had to shout at you.

Maybe he just wants to be left alone for now, right? You decide to leave him alone and turn to sit back on his bed, grabbing your lamb plushie and holding it close with a tight grip.

After a while he comes back out, a towel wrapped around his waist as he went over to his closet to get dressed, pushing his wet hair back.

As he changes into clean clothes he stops when he hears an all too familiar sob, turning to meet your broken form, watching as you keep rubbing the tears from your cheeks, trying to not rile him up more than he already is.

Rafe sighs, pulling a shirt over his head he makes his way over to sit on the edge of the bed beside you, placing his hand on your knee his heart clenches when you pull your knees back, your rejection hitting him deep.

"Listen I...I just had a really long day. But that's not an excuse, I shouldn't have snapped at you." He murmurs, waiting for you to meet his gaze but you keep your eyes trained on your lap, not having the courage to look up. "I'm sorry."

Now you lift your head. Since you've known Rafe you never heard him apologize to anyone so hearing that coming from his mouth surprises you, a single tear running down your face.

Seeing that he reaches a hand up, stopping mid air. "Can I?" He asks softly, only cupping your cheek in his hand when you nod slowly, giving him permission to touch you.

You sniffle, overwhelmed with all the emotions you're feeling right now, shifting on the bed to get settled on his lap, still seeking his comfort despite the fact that he yelled at you.

Rafe starts rocking you gently, his hand stroking your back in a soothing motion as he presses a kiss to your cheek. "I didn't mean what I said. I love everything about you and wouldn't trade you for anything in the world. You know that, right?"

Nodding your head, you snuggle your face in the crook of his neck, grabbing onto his shirt to ground yourself.

Even though you don't say anything he knows you're slowly starting to forgive him and he keeps rocking you, whispering sweet nothings to you. "Did you pack some clothes like I told you earlier?"

"Mhm..." You nod, drawing some shapes on his chest. "Where we goin'?"

"Guadeloupe."

Taglist

For everything:

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@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[nightxcreature]

Do You Wanna Touch Me?

18+ ONLY

Summary: Part Two to Hotblooded, Reader can't help herself. She needs Dean anyway she can get him.

Warnings: Smut, Masturbation, Spice, Dirty Talk

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

A/N: wow. I did not expect that last one to get so much love and attention! Thank you all for being so kind! This is only my second ? time writing smut, so I hope it meets your expectations. I may keep this one going for at least one more part if you guys are interested. :) As always, comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

do not copy and share my work anywhere, you don't have permission.

I had been trying to fall asleep for hours now, and yet here I lay, half naked and clinging to a pillow for dear life. The ingredients in my drink from earlier were still running their course through my system and had left me panting at the mere thought of Dean. I’d rid myself of my T-shirt before Sam had even left my room, heat emanating from my body at a rapid pace. Sam had awkwardly averted his gaze before locking me in and reminding me that I should feel better after I rest. And yet even hours later, I feel like I’ll die if I don’t see Dean soon, speak to him, touch him…

                I groan as I shift to snag my phone from the nightstand, my hips rolling deliciously against the pillow below me. Feral thoughts of the hunter a few doors down rack my brain and I quickly pull up his contact before pressing the call button. His ringtone echoes down the hall from where I assume he is in the library before he answers.

                “Hey, Darlin’,” His voice alone causes my heart to race, a gasp leaving my lips, “Are you okay?”

                I shuffle to straddle the pillow below me as he speaks, the worry for me in his voice sending me into a frenzy, “No. I need you.” I practically cry into the speaker, “Need you so bad.”

                He sighs deeply and I can hear papers shuffling in the background, “You should be asleep, Sweetheart.”

                “Can’t sleep.” I mumble, rolling my hips against the pillow as he speaks, “Can only think about you. I don’t think I’ll think of anything else ever again.”

                “I’m trying to find something to help make it easier for you, I’m sorry.” He whispers, papers shuffling again, “I promise, it’s got to wear off eventually.”

                I let out a frustrated sound, my bottom lip jutting out as I whine, “I’m going to die in here! I’m going to die from needing you so bad and you wont even come in here to help me.”

                “I can’t come help you, Baby. It’s not you that’s asking for this.” He whispers and I can hear the frustration in his voice. One part of me is yelling for me to shut up, to hang up the phone and go to bed, try to somehow go to sleep and forget this ever happened…but the other part of me is ravenous, feral for the man on the other end of the line, and she is not going to lose this battle without a fight.

                “It’s your job to help people, Dean.” I cry out, a low blow I know, but the desperation coursing through my veins won’t let up, “Are you really going to leave me here like this?”

                “Don’t do that.” He growls out, “I told you before that we could talk about this when you’re not drunk off some god-level fuck juice. I want to talk about this. I do want to help you, but I won’t go in that room.”

                His take-no-shit tone goes straight to my core, which I know is the exact opposite of what he’s looking for, but I can’t stop imagining the firm look on his face as he scolds me. My hips roll quicker, a ravenous feeling overtaking my thoughts, “Please keep talking.” I whisper as my eyes close. I hear his breathing hitch, but he doesn’t speak for a moment, and I bite my lip nervously. Did I make him upset? I don’t think I can live with myself if he’s upset with me, “I’m sorry, I didn’t-.”

                “Don’t apologize.” He cuts me off quickly, “What are you doing?”

                Embarrassment should flood my system, but the idea of being caught getting off to his voice just spurs me on. I lift off the pillow to roll my shorts down my legs and then position myself over it again, “What do you think I’m doing?” I whisper seductively into the speaker. Hoping, practically praying, that he knows and he’ll throw whatever righteousness he has left out the window to come help me reach my goal. Sweat pours down my forehead and a heaviness sits in my hips, I rut against the pillow again to try and alleviate the feeling, a small moan leaving my lips as I do.

                The rough sound of his chair sliding across the library floor and his heavy boots thudding as he walks stills me. I sit with bated breath listening to the sound through the phone, waiting to hear him outside my door, “Where are you going?”

                I hear him chuckle quietly before his voice finally graces my ear again, “Where do you think I’m going?” I hear his boots come to a stop, but no sound comes from the hallway in front of my room.

                I groan in frustration, rutting against the pillow isn’t bringing the amount of relief that my body needs and the thought of Dean not being here to help me brings a sinking feeling in my stomach, “Where are you?”

                A door clicks closed on his end before he speaks, “What are you wearing?” He whispers gruffly, sending a shock to my core. I stay quiet for a moment before he whispers a bit softer, “You told me to keep talking. I won’t come in that room with you, but I am going to help you. Now, what are you wearing?”

                Though he can’t see me, I nod quickly and glance down to my torso. Thankful for the black lace panty set cladding my body so I don’t have to lie…I don’t think I could lie to him right now, “My underwear.” I whisper, holding my breath while I wait for him to speak again, “It’s black and lacy and I think you’d really like it.”

                He groans quietly and I can hear him lay down on what I assume is his own bed, “I’d like to see that.”

                “Come here and you can.” My breathing is heavy, anticipation building throughout me as I beg him, “Please.”

                “Please? You gonna beg me, Sweetheart?” He whispers lowly, the teasing tone spurs me on and I roll my hips against the pillow again, moaning louder as I do. I hear him suck in a breath before he continues, “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Touch me. Please, touch me.” I cry out, “I need you all over me.”

                He chuckles darkly, “I can’t right now, can I? But, you can.”

 At his words my hips stutter, I glance down at the pillow as I slide back toward my headboard, “You want me to…”

“Touch yourself, Baby. Where do you want my hands?” His voice is low as he instructs me and I dust the hand not holding my phone across my chest as I listen to his breathing, “Where do you want me to touch you?”

 “Everywhere. My chest, my legs, my….” I gasp as my fingertips rub over my clothed nipples; eyes still closed, I imagine his fingers being the ones ghosting across my frame.

I can practically hear the smile on his face when he speaks again, his voice quiet and heavy, “Yeah, I wanna touch you there, too. I can’t stop thinking about the things I want to do to you.”

“What else do you want to do to me?” I whisper, my hands making their way down my body at a slow pace. I play with the hem of my panties, imagining it’s his thick fingers there teasing me as he speaks slowly into my ear.

“I wanna spend all day between your legs, Baby. Wanna fuck you so good, you forget your name.” He whispers huskily, his breathing is heavier and I almost cum at the thought that he must be touching himself, too. I slide my hand into my panties and moan breathlessly at the feeling of relief that rushes my system. I circle my fingers around my opening, brushing my fingertips over the bud at the apex every so often

                “You drive me crazy,” I groan, throwing my head back against the headboard as I picture his face between my thighs and all the filthy noises he would be making while he eats me, “I need more. You make me so wet.”

                He curses into the speaker and I can hear his breathing quicken, “Take off your clothes.” The harshness in his voice causes my eyes to snap open and rushes me to strip bare faster than I ever have. I remain quiet as I lay alone, listening to his rapid breathing on the other end of the line, “You want me to fuck you, Baby?”

                I nod dumbly before realizing that he still can’t see me and quickly recover, “Yes.”

                “I want you on your hands and knees. Arch your back and touch yourself.” I nod again, rolling quickly to my hands and knees to do as he asks, “I can’t see you, Sweetheart. Are you listening to me?”

                “Yes, Sir.” I mumble as I rush to put the phone on speaker and roll my hips against my fingers, “I’m listening.”

                “Good girl.” He replies, chuckling as I moan at the name, “You like that?”

                “Yes. I love that.” I pant, rubbing faster against the bundle nerves between my thighs. My eyes roll back at the feeling and I try my best to focus on Dean’s voice as he continues to talk me through this.

                “All those little sounds your making are getting me so hard, Darlin’. I can’t stop thinking about how good you must feel, about how good I’d make you feel.” His husky whispers sends my imagination into overdrive as I raise up to sit on my heels. A single finger sinks into me and I moan out at the relief, “I’ve been thinking about being inside you all day. Whatever you want me to do to you, I’d do it. I want to be so deep inside you.”

                My eyes roll at his words, my breathing becoming heavier and I barely hear him when he asks, “You close, Sweetheart? Want me to make you cum?” The teasing lilt in his voice urging my hands to move quicker, my fingers rushing in and out of my opening like lightening. My toes curl and my vision goes blurry as the orgasm crashes into me suddenly. His name leaves my lips like a prayer as I come down and I hear him grunt, whispering my name quietly against the phone speaker.

                My breathing is heavy when I finally speak, “Thank you.”

                He chuckles awkwardly and I can imagine the way a blush covers his cheeks when he replies, “No need to thank me, Darlin’. I think I got just as much out of this as you did.”

                I laugh a little in response, feeling the hint of a blush rising in my own cheeks. The relief I feel is insurmountable and I can feel exhaustion taking over my body in exchange for the rabid horniness from earlier. “Do you think this is over? The potion, I mean.” I ask, waiting for the intense feeling of want to return.

                “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” He mumbles, “If you need me again though, just call.”

                “Will do.” I reply, “We do have a lot to talk about when I’m feeling better though…”

                He laughs nervously before trying to hide it as a cough before agreeing, “Yeah, uh, we do.”

                “I’ll see you after my nap, Dean.” I answer with a slight smile, “And then we can see just how quickly I forget my name.”

                He snorts and I can hear the smirk in his voice, “Set a timer, Sweetheart, it won’t take long.”

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @enigmalynne @envysarchive @aylacavebear @suckitands33 @oceean @mxtansy @k-slla

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[svtiddiess]

Sex Education

Synopsis: In your years of education you learned that there are many methods to study: flashcards, study groups, the pomodoro method etc. But you find that practice is better than theory. And what better way to study Biology than practice with your study buddy?

Pairing: loser!virgin!med student!Mingyu x afab!med student!reader

Genre: smut, slight crack, one shot, med school! au

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: pet names (puppy), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), creampie, size kink, choking, loss of virginity, sub!Gyu, big dick!Gyu, loser!Gyu, riding, masturbation, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Thank you so much for helping me with the synopsis my twin @tomodachiii! As promised, here's sub!Gyu.

Thank you so much to @onlymingyus for beta reading!

Click here to join my taglist!

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Mingyu.

That's the only thing on your mind right now—nothing else, just Mingyu. You should probably be paying attention to the lesson, but how could you, with the hot nerd sitting right within your line of sight? Okay, maybe you chose this seat specifically so you could look at him without getting caught, but still! He’s a distraction you’re more than happy to have.

You rest your chin in your hand, sighing as your eyes trace over his figure. He’s built like a Greek god—strong, tall, with perfectly styled black hair, and his large square glasses barely hide his handsome, tan face. Oh, what you’d give just to see him without those glasses on.

You’ve known Mingyu since middle school. You never really interacted, but you definitely noticed him around. Back in school, he was known as the nerdy kid with glasses and a scrawny, lanky frame to match. Shy and awkward, he was an easy target for bullies. But over the years, his muscle mass increased, and his frame filled out. It seems he’s been putting in serious hours at the gym, and it’s definitely paid off.

Although he’s the most handsome guy in med school, he’s still incredibly shy and reserved, keeping his circle small and close-knit. Despite numerous people, especially girls, trying to get closer to him, he just pushes them away. That’s why, despite your massive crush, you haven’t made a move. You’re too scared he’ll shut you out and avoid you for good.

You can't help but bite your bottom lip and squeeze your thighs together as you rake your eyes over his bulging biceps, his shirt barely able to contain the muscle. Just one chokehold; one chokehold is all you're asking for, really. You sigh once again, knowing that you'll never be able to have him.

Your train of unholy thoughts is abruptly interrupted by the sound of your professor calling your name. Startled, you sit up and look towards him.

"Miss Y/N, are you even paying attention?" Prof. Choi huffs, crossing his arms.

"Of course I am, professor," you reply, flashing the sweetest smile you can manage.

"Then, for the third time, please answer the question on the board," he says, gesturing to the problem.

"Uh…" you trail off, completely lost.

Prof. Choi sighs and tells you to see him after class, to which you reluctantly agree. You sink into your chair, dreading what’s to come. Shaking your head, you let out a sigh and shifted your gaze back to Mingyu, watching in awe as he effortlessly answered the very question you stumbled over. Tall, muscular, hot, and smart—he really is the perfect guy.

You grumble as Prof. Choi calls your name, sabotaging your plan to slip out of class. Sighing, you drag yourself over to his desk, only to be surprised when Mingyu joins you. You glance between Mingyu and Prof. Choi, waiting for an explanation.

"Y/N, I’ll get straight to the point—you’re failing this class," Prof. Choi says. "At this rate, I’m not sure you'll be able to move on to the next year."

Well, it’s not your fault that a hot distraction named Kim Mingyu exists.

"That’s why I’ve assigned Mingyu here as your tutor to help you pass," he says, nodding toward Mingyu.

Your eyes widen, and you struggle to suppress a smile. Mingyu tutoring you? Spending time alone with him? This feels like a dream come true. You silently thank both Prof. Choi and the heavens for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Mingyu gives you a shy smile. "I hope we can get along well," he says, extending his hand.

You gratefully take it, noticing the blush coloring his cheeks.

"Please take good care of me, Mingyu," you say, beaming, already looking forward to your tutoring sessions.

You smooth out your skirt one last time before opening the door for Mingyu. You made sure to wear your sluttiest outfit today. After insisting that your brain works better when you study in your room, Mingyu shyly agreed to hold the tutoring sessions there.

You smile and step aside to let him in, watching as he sheepishly steps into your house. Making sure your ass is sticking out, you made him follow you upstairs to your room.

You sat down on your bed, subtly raising your skirt, and gestured for Mingyu to take a seat next to you. He awkwardly took his seat and started pulling out his notes.

He keeps his eyes on his notes as he starts explaining today’s lesson—something about the Krebs cycle, though you’re not really listening. You’re too busy admiring his handsome face. You twirl a strand of hair and blink sweetly as you ask (hopefully relevant) questions, but he barely glances at you while answering.

After what feels like hours of studying (it’s been 30 minutes), you whine and beg him for a break, and he blushes as he agrees.

"Would you like some snacks? Or maybe water or juice?" you ask, perking up.

"Just a glass of water is fine," he mumbles, still focused on his notes.

You nod and grab a glass of water for him and a snack for yourself. Returning, you hand him the water with a smile, which he accepts with a quiet “thank you,” while you peel your banana for your snack.

You lick the tip of the banana before biting down on it, smirking when you see Mingyu gulping at your actions. Noticing you looking at him, he blushes and quickly averts his gaze.

"Want a bite?" You offer him with a sultry smirk.

"N-No, thank you," he mumbles, his ears turning red.

You giggle as you finish your banana and scoot a little closer, prompting him to continue the lesson. But he’s a stuttering mess, tripping over his words and repeatedly asking for more water to soothe his suddenly dry throat.

After stuttering his way through, Mingyu finally managed to finish the lesson. Sore from having hunched over, you stretch, not so subtly pressing your chest against his arm. Mingyu flushes, quickly gathering his notes and mumbling something about being late for a gaming session with Wonwoo.

You see him out, throwing in a wink and waving goodbye. You watch as he stumbles a bit while getting onto his Vespa and driving off. Chuckling to yourself, you can't help but smile at how cute he is.

The rest of the tutoring sessions go the same way: you not-so-subtly flirt with Mingyu, while he either purposely ignores it or remains completely oblivious. You even try to out-slut your outfits with every tutoring session, but nothing seems to work.

One night, after yet another session, you lie in bed, frustrated that Mingyu isn’t picking up on your very obvious hints. Who knew the loser nerd would actually turn out to be a huge loser? You sigh, but him being a huge loser is what you find most endearing about him.

You bite your lip, remembering what he wore today—a black polo that stretched perfectly over his muscles, jeans that hugged his thighs just right, and of course, those thick black frames.

You can't help but sneak your hand down your torso as you remember how his arm felt pressed against your boobs. They felt so strong and firm, you bet that he could easily carry you and fuck you mid-air.

You shiver as your hand sneaks under your panties. You circle your pussy, collecting your arousal before pushing a finger into your hole, sighing at the slight stretch. You moan at the thought of Mingyu's fingers being way bigger than yours. His fingers would stretch you out so well before he finally fucks you with his huge cock.

You insert another finger and start thrusting your fingers, moaning out Mingyu's name. You imagine him hovering over you as he relentlessly thrusts into you, groaning your name right beside your ear. He'd growl as your fingers rake his back, leaving angry red marks. You'd wrap your legs around his hips and push him in deeper, making him breed you.

Your other hand circles your clit as you feel yourself getting to the edge. You imagine him thrusting from behind as his large bicep chokes you, putting just enough pressure to heighten the pleasure. He'd whimper and moan in your ear, letting you know how good you feel wrapped around him. He'd fill you up with his cum, again and again, and again, until the sheets underneath you are soaked with your mixed fluids.

Your breath hitches as you cum, whispering his name like a prayer, hoping that if you say it enough times, he’ll appear before you and make your dreams come true.

But he doesn't, and you're left lying in bed, sticky, sweaty, and alone.

You yawn for the umpteenth time as Mingyu drones on about anatomy; you're sure your brain has shut down by now. You sigh as you lean back onto the bed, too tired even to sit up.

"Mingyu, can we please take a break? I don't think my brain can take any more of this," you groan, resting your arm over your eyes.

"U-Uh, yeah, sure," Mingyu mumbles, fiddling with his notes. "We could always switch to a different topic if you want a change of pace…"

"What's the next topic?"

"The reproductive system."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and a smirk paints your face as an idea pops into your head. You sit up and grin at Mingyu.

"Sure, let's learn about the reproductive system."

Happy that you're finally interested in a topic, Mingyu gathers his notes and starts to explain. After about 15 minutes of explanation, you put your hand over his and gently push away his notes.

"Mingyu, I don’t understand the topic at all," you say with a pout, shifting to sit directly in front of him. His face turns bright red, clearly flustered. "I think it would help if we put the theory into practice so I can learn better," you purr.

Mingyu stumbles over his words, stuttering, his brain clearly short-circuiting. You giggle at his flustered state and shift to sit on his lap, your legs on either side of him.

"Will you let me use you to put the theory into practice, Mingyu?" you ask, tilting your head with a pout as you gently cup his face.

"I-I’m not sure h-how…" Mingyu stammers, swallowing hard.

"Oh, you poor thing," you coo. "It's okay, I'll guide you, puppy. Will you let me?"

He licks his lips and lets out a shaky breath before giving a small nod.

"Don't worry, puppy, I'll make sure to take good care of you," you hum as you gently remove his glasses.

He blinks and looks up at you, lips parted and cheeks flushed. You take a moment to admire his handsome face without the glasses. Cupping his face, your eyes trace over his features—his strong jawline, his parted lips, and the small mole on the tip of his nose. Unable to resist, you lean in and place a gentle kiss there, making him shiver.

"Can I kiss you, puppy?" You whisper.

"P-Please," he whimpers, and you can't help but smile over how pathetic he sounds.

You lean in and press your lips against his, and he kisses back desperately, hungry for your lips. You chuckle into the kiss, his inexperience showing with every hesitant movement. When you pull back, he leans forward, chasing your lips and letting out a soft whine when you don’t return the kiss.

"Puppy, if you don't behave, I will punish you," you scowl, furrowing your eyebrows.

"'m sorry," he mumbles with a pout.

You plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, then slowly run your hands down his torso, gently squeezing each muscle through his white polo. He moans and shivers under your touch, his eyes squeezing shut.

"Puppy works hard in the gym, hm?" You giggle, squeezing his chest slightly harder, eliciting a gasp from him.

You giggle, then start slowly dragging your hands to his arms, squeezing his biceps.

"God, your arms are so big and strong," you moan, squeezing him hard. "I want you to choke me, puppy. Can you do that for me? Choke me with your biceps?"

Letting out a shaky breath, he nods. You shift, pressing your back against his chest. He gently puts you into a chokehold and squeezes his arm slightly. Your eyes roll back, and a moan slips from your lips when you feel his biceps push against your throat.

You can't help but feel small in Mingyu's hold; he's just so big and beefy. You grind your hips against him, and you feel his grip faltering. He whimpers and pushes his erection against your butt.

"P-Please, I can't. I-It hurts," he whimpers against your ear.

You sneak down your hand and palm him through his jeans, making him groan and buck your hips against your palm.

"Need me to take care of your problem puppy?" You giggle, palming him roughly.

"Please," he strains out, choking back a moan.

He releases you from the chokehold, and you quickly clamber over to grab the bottle of lube you've stashed on the side table. You look over to see that he's already pushed his jeans and boxers down and freed his aching cock.

"Impatient are we now, puppy?" You chuckle, making his cheeks heat up.

Locking eyes with him, you give him a sultry look as you slowly peel off your panties but keep your skirt on. He gulps hard, shifting in place, anticipating your next move.

Biting your lip, you slowly crawl back over to him. You pour lube all over his cock and give him a few pumps, he whines your name and bucks his hips, making you giggle.

"Gonna make you feel so good, puppy," you whisper as you shift to hover over him.

You grab onto his shoulders and slowly sink onto his big cock, the stretch making you moan out loud. Mingyu whines and groans under you, his hands fly to your hips, fingers digging into you.

"F-Fuck," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut as your warmth slowly envelopes him.

Your mouth goes agape, and your eyes roll back when you feel his tip kiss your cervix.

"M-Move, please move. I-I can't," he begs, muscles straining under you.

You slowly lift yourself and slam back down onto him, making the both of you moan out loud. Slowly picking up your pace, you start riding him. He becomes a blubbering mess under you, moaning your name and whining at how good it feels.

"Look at the mess we're making, puppy," you pant out, lifting your skirt and showing him the sticky mess forming at the base of his cock.

He looks down at where both of you are connected and moans. He starts picking you up and slamming you down at an animalistic pace, his hips meeting you halfway. You squeal at the feeling of him rutting into you.

Unable to hold back any longer, he cums hard, filling you up to the brim with his seeds. Desperate to reach your high, you continue to ride him despite his chokes and whimpers. You capture his lips into a messy kiss to distract him from the overstimulation.

"C-Circle my clit," you mumble in between the kiss, and he complies, his hand immediately sneaking down and rubbing your clit in circles.

You yell his name as you cum around him, squeezing every drop of cum out of him. Mingyu moans, and a few tears slip from his eyes at the feeling of you squeezing him with a vice-like grip.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, your head resting on Mingyu’s shoulder as he leans back against the headboard. Licking your lips, you cup his face and look into his dazed eyes.

"You did so well, puppy," you coo, watching him blush and give you a fucked-out smile.

"But I don't think I've fully understood the topic yet. Maybe we should go over it again, just to be sure," you say before smashing your lips on his again.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour

@iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina

@theidontknowmehn @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @toplinehyunjin

[citrus-writing]

In Your Skin - yandere! feitan x reader

summary: Feitan carving his initials into darling

warnings: violence against reader, implied past abuse

taglist: @rotten-pomegranate on Tumblr

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

Over time- weeks and weeks spent under his watchful eye- all the fight you once had in you has been worn away. By now all you can do is try to read his expressions and guess his mood and try to be good. You do your best to do whatever he says, but the truth is that by the time he has to tell you, you’re already too late to avoid his anger. You do your best to do what he wants- wear the clothes he likes, partake in hobbies he seems to like seeing you engage in, talk about the things he likes to talk about; there isn't much he likes to talk about, but you try. It's never enough.

You look over at him, sitting alone reading a book in a language you don't know. His face is hard to read, especially at such a glance, but he looks almost cute- it’s strange to think of him as attractive, but that’s the truth; to you, he’s cute, handsome even. Should you feel disgusted for thinking that? Ashamed? Embarrassed? You’re not sure. You don't even know what he would think if you told him- but you do know that his face wouldn't betray any emotion, and he’d find a way to make you regret saying it. 

When he looks at you, you look away fast. You hear the book snap shut and you know you're in trouble. Was it looking at him that made him mad? Or looking away?

"Come here," he calls, and you hurry to obey- whatever he had in mind, you knew hesitating would only make it worse. You come to stand in front of him, eyes fixated on his shoes because you don't dare to look up at him. If you looked at him, what would you see? Not knowing what expression he wears sends terror straight through you. The thought of what expression he wears as you cower is ever worse. You can feel his eyes boring through you. “What you were looking at?” he asks in that signature slightly broken english. 

You don't know what to say, “nothing, i uh, wasn't really looking at anything.” 

He moves to get down from where he’s sat, grabbing you by the wrist. “Liar.” he hisses. You don't say anything as he pulls you from where you were standing towards the basement. You know you said the wrong thing, you always do, and now you have to pay for it. 

Once you’re at the bottom of the stairs he pushes you towards the little operating table at the center of the room, one you’re familiar with by now. The first few times you’d thrashed and kicked and screamed for him to let you go. Now, you don't say anything at all, stumbling to the table and feeling tears sting at your eyes from the horror of your situation. How many times could you mess up before he killed you? You must be on thin ice by now. Was this it? Would you even care if it was? 

He straps you down to the table, fingers tracing over the skin of your wrists and ankles as he secures the leather straps. It’s almost gentle, almost a lovers caress. You watch him look at you, head slightly tilted but face unreadable. He speaks first, “you were staring.” Was that what this was about? That you had been staring at him in the living room earlier. “Then you lied.” 

You can't stop crying, the various tools hung up on the walls glare down at you- and you remember some of them, the way they had felt, the way they had pierced your skin and the way they had made you scream in pain. You nod your head anyways. “I’m sorry.” 

He frowns, looking down at you like you’re not making sense, “don't be.” 

He picks up a clean little blade- so clean it gleamed in the light, with such a sharp and smooth edge that you imagined you’d barely feel it. It's a stark contrast to the other weapons down here- all dirty and jagged, all perfectly crafted to inflict as much harm as possible. This little weapon isn't like that at all- you find the mind to wonder if it’s new, even. 

Then he turns back to you, his face is unreadable, but his body language is a little off. Normally, when he brings you down here and straps you to the table, he’s angry. Even if he doesn’t tell you or show it, you can always tell he’s angry at you. But not right now. 

He traces his free hand from your cheek to your collarbone, peeking out from the collar of your clothes. His fingers are cold, tracing over you in a nearly gentle manner. You try not to shiver. The sound of your clothes being ripped apart by the clean little knife starles you from your spell. He only cuts through the collar of your shirt, only exposing a few extra inches of skin, from your collarbone to the top of your breasts. 

Your breathing begins to speed up, a new kind of panic setting in. Feitan had done a lot to you in your time here, but his touch had always remained tactile, like he didn't really feel one way or another about touching you. You should have known when his fingers brushed over your cheek that this was different. Of course you’d considered the possibility- that he’d brought you here for something more than killing you- but as time had worn on, that fear has started to subside. 

You don't have time to dwell on the details of what he was about to do, or why, when he brings the blade to your skin. Of course, struggle is impossible with you bound so tight, but you have to try, don't you? You try to kick your feet, try to move your hands, try to scream. 

Through tears you can make out his face, he’s lowered the cowl he wears enough for you to see what expression he wears- and though he hides it well, there’s some demented sort of smile tugging at his lips, though he seems to try to hide it. 

When he allows you up from the table, you realize that you haven't been there for very long. You also notice that he’s left you completely unmarred besides the area below your clavicle- which feels mangled, burns and bleeds, and you don't dare raise your hand to test the skin there. 

He picks something up off of a nearby table, holding it out to you- it’s a hand mirror. You can hardly lift your arms to take it from him, too afraid of what you’ll find etched into your skin. He’d never bothered to show off his work before, confident you would see it next time you showered or looked in the bathroom mirror. But he wants to see your reaction to this one. You hold up the mirror to look at what he’d written into your skin. 

FEITAN. Written in capital letters, weeping blood, etched deep enough into your skin you know it’ll leave deep angry scars. 

Your eyes dart to the man standing in front of you, and you're shocked to find him closer to you than he had been before, inches from you, lips wrapped into a smile so twisted and cruel it makes your stomach churn. 

“You’re mine.” 

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 2 - The Right Hand

Chapter Summary - Y/N and Seonghwa meet up for brunch, where she begins to question Seonghwas character and work.

Series Masterlist

The café Seonghwa requested for us to meet was on the richer side of town. He'd instructed I sit in a booth in the far right corner, out of sight, explaining that was his usually spot. I sat patiently, clutching my purse tightly as it lay in my lap, watching the door intently silently praying he'd pay after I briefly scanned over the beverage prices.

I perked up when I saw the familiar styled back hair and handsome face. He smiled when he saw me, striding across the café like he owned the place before sliding into the seat across from me.

"You really came." He chuckles, fixing his jacket.

"Of course I did. You thought I wouldn't?" I ask, tilting my head. He looked so shy all of a sudden, completely different from the blushing confidence from the night before.

"I never really have much luck." He explains with a soft laugh, his hand sliding the beverage menu closer. "What are you having?" He asks.

"Uhm... The cheapest drink?" I say awkwardly, offering him a strained smile.

"I'll pay, it's no trouble." Oh I knew it was no trouble. I looked up his name after I returned to my apartment last night and was amazed just by how much money he had inherited, let alone earns a year now. Old money rich families really are something.

My silence caught on, making him clear his throat to catch my attention once again. "Doll?" He asks, his eyebrow quirked upwards.

"Sorry... I'll just have a hot chocolate, if that's okay?" I ask, shifting slightly in my seat to hide the shiver that ran up my spine at the nickname.

"Not a coffee drinker?" He asks with an amused smile.

"I prefer sweet things." I say, nodding as a self confirmation. Why were first dates so awkward?

"Don't worry, I know someone who is the same." He chuckles, standing and walking towards the counter to order. He wore a suit, a different one from last night hopefully, that was perfectly tailored to his body. I stared for a moment, admiring his figured before he turned around to look at me briefly. I snapped my head forward, almost giving myself whiplash as a blush rose from my cheeks.

Soon he returns with the drinks, placing my hot chocolate in front of me before taking his seat once again. He sips his drink, eyes on me as he does before he speaks, placing the mug down on a coaster.

"How long have you done ballet?" He asks, his honey voice returning.

"Since I was little. I joined the society when I was 17, have been apart of it ever since." I say.

"It's impressive that you've kept up with the art for so long." He says, leaning back in his seat, eyes still on me. "My parents used to take me to watch ballet when I was young and I've loved it ever since." He says.

"Enough to come to every show?" I asks, with a head tilt. He chuckles loudly at that, reaching for his mug again to take another sip.

"I may love the art, however it was the lead ballerina who caught my eye this time." He answers, sending me a wink as he placed the mug back down. I bite back a snort, biting my bottom lip at his wink.

"So, what do you do for work?" I ask. I already knew what he did, but figured it would be weird if I didn't ask, right?

"I work for ATZ Corp, the right hand I suppose you should call it." He says. "I help Hongjoong out with a lot of business, and running the company."

"Is it difficult to run such a successful company?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"For a while it was, however over the years we've learnt to trust each other with certain... aspects." He coughs as he finishes his sentence, I furrow my eyebrows.

"Aspects?" I laugh.

"Yes, aspects." He says with a smile, I could see in his eyes that he was holding something back. "It's such a large company, and successful at that. When Hongjoong took over just before his 21st birthday, he was lost. Not to mention still grieving over the loss of his parents." Seonghwa lets out a soft sigh. "I'm glad he asked for help."

Even though we had only technically met last night, I admired how quickly he was to open up. He may seem intimidating to others, he seemed genuine, like he really did care about things both big and small. I smile softly at him as he talks, hanging off of every word like he was telling me his life story.

"Do your family come to watch you perform?" He asks.

"I'm not on speaking terms with them." I say, my stomach dropping at the mention of them. His eyebrows furrow and a slight pout forms on his lips.

"I'm sorry... Can I ask why?" He asks, he leans forward, his forearms on the table now.

"They were never really supportive of my career choices." I explain. "I was supposed to be the heir, however they dropped that idea and me the second I accepted the Society's invitation."

Seonghwa looked angry, in a calm way. I felt my throat go dry as he watches me for a moment. "Really?" He asks, his voice rough. I lean back slightly, swallowing as I nod.

"How stupid of them." He says simply, leaning back to mirror my movements. I eye him carefully as he seems to think for a moment. How did the mood shift so suddenly? One second I felt like I was flying and now I feel like he may go into a frenzy.

"Seonghwa?" I call out softly, he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, snapping out of his daze.

"I'm so sorry." He says, rubbing his temple for a moment. I notice the bandage poking out from beneath his sleeve, but don't point it out.

"You're fine." I say, offering him a smile. "I'm guessing you're tired?" I ask.

"Yea, a very late night last night." He chuckles. "I had to follow up on some business partners, and of course they're in different time zones so I had to wait up for them." He runs a hand through his hair before placing them both back into his lap.

"Doll." He calls out, his voice suddenly firm. I look up at him, eyes widening slightly as he stares back at me with hooded eyes. "I want to warn you. If you wish to continue seeing me there are... Expectations." He says.

"Expectations?" I question.

"Very specific ones." He says. "What I do can be dangerous, though I can't give you the details, I believe you wouldn't be one to run and snitch." He leans forward, his voice getting lower as he speaks to me.

"So you're trusting me that easily?" I ask softly, leaning forward, matching his movements like he had done with me. He notices this and smirks.

"Not trust, Doll. An invitation." He states. "I'll give you time to think about it." He says, moving back and pulling a folded up envelop from the inside of his jacket.

"Feel free to call if you have questions." Seonghwa states, standing up from his seat. He reaches for my hand, raising it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles.

"I'll be seeing you very soon."

[cas-readsandwrites]

Lavender: Interludes

Set in Jackson post TLOU S1 in the Lavender universe by @justagalwhowrites, a few little scenes of Joel, Doc, and the fam in Jackson. Listen I am not pregnant, I have no desire to be pregnant, so I don't know WHERE this came from, but I love soft Joel healing from his trauma and finding love and joy in his family! Content: Reader is described as pregnant. There is smut. And fluff. And love. Grab some ice cream and your heating pads if you're in the same time of the month as me. Minors DNI. 3.6k words

I am not quiet about the fact that Lavender is one of my favorite fanfics, in my two decades popping in and out of various fandoms. Doc and Joel are my distraction and angst and comfort when I need it. Sometimes my imagination runs a little wild.... many many thanks to Kit for creating these characters and being totally cool with the fact that I wrote a little fanfic of her fanfic :D So here we go!

~~~

Joel had walked into the house late one evening, after patrol had gone long and he had to wait to give report to the next crew going out. He was extra antsy and wanted to get home, now more than ever. This was his last patrol for the next several months, as he would not need to leave the walls of the town during the last month of your pregnancy and hopefully not for a month or two afterwards. He would be put on extra shifts on guard duty or with the carpenter crew, but as long as he was within a quick run down the street or an ear-shot of someone yelling for him with news of you, he was fine with that. 

Anyway, when he had come home, you had been standing in the middle of the living room, seemingly all the sheets and blankets from the house around you and stacked in a laundry basket at the bottom of the stairs. All of the glasses and mugs were sitting out drying on the counter, as well as the few baby bottles you had brought home from the clinic (just in case you had said, hopeful that you would be able to breastfeed). All of the lights were still on upstairs. 

“Baby,” he said, matter-of-factly, “what the hell are you doin’?”

You spun around, holding a fitted sheet in your hands, fresh from the laundry line outside. The town was encouraged to use the communal laundry whenever possible, to limit wear and tear on the machines in the houses, but understandably many families had middle-of-the-night unexpected messes or heavy loads that they would do at home if the mechanicals still worked. The dryer in their house was still inconsistent, as much as Joel took it apart and banged on it and put it back together, it gave them a few good spins before shuddering to a halt again. Thankfully Tommy and Maria’s across the street was still functional, adding to the growing list of ways that he felt like he was in… well, a commune, with his brother as their lives and households continually overlapped, something he suspected would only increase after the baby was born.

“I think I’m nesting,” you answered back, looking around at the piles of fabric and wiggling your fingers in the sheets. “It seemed like a good idea to have all the linens clean, and then I was hand-washing some things in the kitchen, so it seemed like a good idea to clean off some of the dishes and things we haven’t really used, they were kind of dusty and I didn’t want it getting in the bottles…” you trailed off and sighed. “Ok, it looks ridiculous, but trust me, it needed to be done!” 

Joel wasn’t about to fight you on that, as much as he worried about your health and safety in what he viewed as an extra-fragile state, it seemed like you had come even more alive with an extra vivacity throughout your pregnancy. Even when you were throwing up, or cranky with hormones, you were even more feisty. Which was saying something, considering all the times you had verbally sparred back in Boston, along the road to Jackson, even back when you were taking care of yourself and your grandmother all alone. “Ok, well… can I help you?” he asked. “Seems like you got it in hand, but please don’t tell me you’ve been carrying laundry around all day.” 

You waved your hands again, corners of the sheet scrunching around your fingers. “Ellie put up with me for a while and did the heavy lifting with the wet things. She wanted to go out for the evening, though, so it’s just been me and the folded piles tonight.” You looked around as you tucked the corners across and into each other, neatly snapping the sheet and folding the edges in. “I guess if you can take these all back up into the closet upstairs, then it will be mostly done.” 

You looked around at the folded pile in the basket, mentally cataloguing your task, before seeming to snap out of it and look back at him. “But you just got home! I’m so sorry, blame my brain for being wired towards this.” You waded through the piles and threw yourself into his arms, even with your stomach grown with his baby, still fitting in just right where he could wrap around your shoulders and your back and you could lean into that space against his chest. Joel ran his hand up and down your back, around your side, warm palm against the place where your child grew. You hummed as he kissed the top of your head, centering himself as he always did when coming home on your scent and the warm gravity of you in his arms. 

“Why don’t you go up to bed?” he murmured against your temple. “I’ll get the rest of this. You’ve been on your feet a lot. Please go lay down? I’d love to just… be with you tonight.” You nodded, tipping your head back to kiss him. He anchored himself to you, the press of your lips against his. 

“I’m glad you’re home,” you said, squeezing him again before stepping away and looking around at the living room before walking upstairs.

They had been in this house for several months, well-established in Jackson, but he couldn’t shake the nighttime routines yet, circling the first floor of the house, checking that the exits were clear, locked, lights off, locking his rifle in the downstairs closet, keeping his sidearm in the nightstand next to his side of the bed. He heard you moving around the bathroom and treading the hallway into the bedroom. Thankfully, Ellie came home not too soon after as he was finished folding. She shrugged and tilted her head with an eyebrow raised in a nonverbal I don’t know, man, it wasn’t my idea. He handed her the basket and wordlessly gestured up the stairs. She just as silently tilted her forehead against his arm as she passed in a greeting and good-night, and they trooped up the stairs together. “Good night, Ellie!” he heard you call across the hall.

He showered, washing off the road and sweat, before climbing in bed behind you, already nested in your structure of pillows. “Mmmf,” you murmured, nestling back into his chest. He traced the line of the back of your neck with one hand and looped his arm around your front, resting on your stomach. You traced the back of his hand with your fingers in the dark. It didn’t seem to take much, even at this stage in your pregnancy, and soon you were bringing his hand below the slope of your stomach to that place between your legs that seemed so much more sensitive nowadays. 

“Baby,” he murmured in your ear, “you gonna be ok? Don’t want to hurt you…”

You moaned quietly as his fingertips traced your clit, leading down to your center, tracing your entrance and just dipping inside. You gasped and tilted your hips, moving your leg to open that space for him. “Please, Joel,” you breathed, trying to be quiet, mindful of Ellie down the hall. “I trust you, I know you won’t hurt me, I want to feel you, please…”

He kissed the space below your ear, the scratch of his beard tickling the back of your shoulder. “Don’t gotta beg for me, sweetheart, always gonna give you what you need.”

Urged by your own hand, he felt the wetness from your entrance already, dipping his fingers in to coat them, coming back to your clit, warm and aching. It didn’t take long for the pressure from his fingers, alternating between circling and lightly pressing on your sensitive areas, before he felt you throbbing, heard your tiny gasps as you tugged on the corner of your pillow, thrusting your hips back into his as he brought you to your edge. Even after months of your reassurance that you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, had never done so, and you still obviously wanted him, he waited for your cues. He tried to ignore his hardening cock, but your thrust backwards had nestled him into the soft flesh of your ass, so warm and delightfully more from pregnancy, and he couldn't help as he rocked against you. Even as you came down, you pushed his hand back towards your center, hitching your top leg up to rest on his, reaching behind for his hip, holding him close.

He ran his hand down your leg, gripping your thigh against him as he moved to push himself against you, the heat and wetness from your center drawing him in. He lined the tip of him with your center, your body grasping to pull him in, as if promises over decades and the proof of your love growing inside you weren’t enough. He stopped only long enough to ask, “this ok, baby? You feel alright?” 

You whimpered, tilting your head back towards him, and he ran his nose along what he could reach of your jaw, kissing the side of your neck, breathing against the edge of your ear. “Feels so good, please, don’t stop,” you whispered, rocking just so the tip of him slid in. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of you around him, pressed against him, as he slid inside you from behind. You bit your lip to stop from crying out, rocking back into him with abandon. He had to focus to stop from coming immediately - how could he not, the softness of the most round, plush parts of you pressed against his body and in his hands, your warmth even more enveloping. He focused instead on the lines of your body, kissing your shoulder, gripping your hip as he thrust in and out, syncing with the rocking of your hips. His hand slipped around your front to the top of your legs again, circling and rubbing against your clit. You were so lost in your pleasure, grasping at the blanket in front of you, and he wanted this to last as long as you needed. Unable to see your face or kiss you, giving himself into your body wherever you would take him, he used his words instead, punctuated by his own groans and pleasure. Words of praise and promise, your beauty, the sensation of your body, goddess that you were, holding both himself and your child together deep inside yourself. 

-finally, “oh, fuck, there you go baby, I can feel you, so ready, come on-” and you turned your face down into your pillow, breathing heavily, as your body fairly shook with your orgasm, clenching and rippling around him, and he held on tight and rode it out with you, thrusting up once, twice, one more time until he felt himself come apart deeply and at home in your body. 

The two of you lay together in the tangle of blankets and blankets, now kicked down around your legs and askew around you, his chest heaving with deep breaths against yours. He felt you melt into the mattress. After a moment he checked himself, not wanting you to need to move, and cautiously lifted an arm to brace himself against the mattress. You made a little noise and tilted your head back against him again. He reach in front of you and sat partway up, leaning over you to kiss you at an angle, reassuring you, and himself that you were still alright, that he hadn’t hurt you or pushed you too much in some way that he would have no way of knowing about, his memories of the only other pregnant woman in his life so far distant and embroiled in its own tinge of sadness and self-doubt that none of it was to be trusted. Only you, here, your daughter for all intents and purposes down the hall, the solidity of this house, was what he could count on. 

He kissed you again and nuzzled against your forehead. “Lay down, baby, I got you. Need anything?” he felt you shake your head and settled against your pillow. He smiled. You often had a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep as you advanced in your pregnancy, but something about the release of sex would turn you into goo and put you to sleep afterwards almost right away. 

He carefully sat all the way up, leaning over you to reset your pillows where you liked them, against the pressure of your knees, hips and belly supported against the mattress, under your arm, one against the small of your back. When you were tucked in and covered, he quietly stepped down the hall to fill your glass of water and set it down next to you, checking again the lights outside and the door to Ellie’s room, before sliding carefully back in behind you. Not able to get as close through your fortress of pillows, he rested an arm along your hip, breathing in the scent of your hair that always seemed to end up draped across his pillow.

He heard you sigh and shuffle, and was about to ask what else you needed, before you spoke quietly, through the cloud of sleep he knew was almost ready to carry you off. “I love you,” you murmured into the soft darkness of the bedroom. He leaned his head forward, resting his forehead on the space between your shoulderblades, just behind your heart. “Love you so much, baby,” he whispered, squeezing your hip, before sleep claimed you both. 

~~~

Joel and Tommy watched as you and Maria talked in the living room of Tommy and Maria’s house after dinner, while they stood in the doorway of the kitchen drinking whiskey, judiciously keeping the scent of alcohol away from your pregnant self and Maria’s breastfeeding. Well, Tommy was watching Joel as Joel watched you shuffle on the couch, gently positioning yourself to rest your lower back. “She doin’ ok?” Tommy asked, trying to catch Joel’s eye. 

Joel glanced over at his brother like he was unaware they were even in a conversation together. “Oh- yeah. She said her legs and back are starting to get real tired. Tried telling her to rest more, but you know her, says moving is actually better and she doesn’t want to leave the clinic yet.”

Tommy nodded, knowing this brand of his sister-in-law’s stubbornness and resilient streak. “You ever try doin’ the thing where you stand behind her and lift up her stomach?”

Now Joel was really looking at his brother. “What?” he asked. They didn’t really… talk girls. Joel did his best when Tommy was growing up to have The Talk (that went pretty well, living embodiment of the consequences of Joel’s actions usually screaming in her high chair in the background of those conversations when Tommy would be headed out the door to pick up yet another date) as well as trying to make sure his brother was generally a respectful and polite person to a partner, but other than that, they didn’t really talk about the ins and outs of each other’s relationships. Until you. Even way back when, yours and Joel’s relationship had been more real, more recognized, tangible, than most other things in his life.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, “you know, like you’re gonna hug her from behind or somethin?” He demonstrated in the air in front of him. “Get your arms around her and under her stomach, towards the bottom, where Maria always said was the most sore because it was heavy, stretching out some muscles, and just-” he linked his fingers together, glass carefully balanced in one bear-paw of a hand- “hup.” He demonstrated gently lifting a beach ball in front of him.

Joel watched his brother looking like he was trying to hula hoop in the middle of his kitchen. “Sure it doesn’t hurt her?” Tommy laughed and patted his brother on his arm. “Be gentle, man. Naw, Maria loved it. Would have walked around behind her for the whole last month for her if I could’ve.” Joel nodded, regretting already the time he missed in his brother’s life, refusing to accept his new marriage to Maria, blocking out the thoughts of his brother becoming a father, when all his brother had done for him was to step into Joel’s own life and take on Joel’s burdens as his own. By the time Joel and his girls had made it back to Jackson, several months had passed and Maria had already given birth. 

Tommy patted his arm again. “She knows you���d do anything for her. Maria and I will, too. Need a babysitter or an extra hand when it’s time, just holler.” He gestured with his glass towards their window that overlooked the street, across which your home with Joel was softly illuminated by the front door light, waiting for you to come home. You caught Tommy’s movement out of the corner of your eye, looking up and smiling at your husband and your brother-in-law together again, as they should be.

The next day, you were walking slowly around the house while getting ready for a shift at the clinic. You were still the only doctor in town, though they had gained a few additional staff that, while not quite trained as well as you’d hoped nurses would be, were improving as medical assistants and able to triage and take histories and help with physical exams. One of the more senior nurses who had been in town for a while had taken on the heavier medical work before you had arrived. She had taken to your education and you had recently “graduated” her from your unofficial training and dubbed her a nurse practitioner, only needing to sign off with you on certain types of cases. The extra help meant that at least you could sit more and slow your pace to see a few less patients, but for now you said your brain and your energy were fine, and you weren’t going to let a few bodyaches get in the way of being present for the people who needed the knowledge that only you had. 

Joel watched as you stood in front of your dresser, choosing which top to go over your precious few pairs of pants they had found to be modified with a maternity band. You sighed and rested your hands on the small of your back, leaning just so, trying to stretch - well, everything. 

Joel begrudgingly remembered his brother’s words, knowing he was going to be eating shit for a while, Tommy being more of an expert in the “pregnancy and infancy caregiver in the apocalypse” duties. Joel still had him beat in the teenager department at least. For now, though, he walked up behind you to kiss your temple, slipping his arms around you as he often did to trace the contours of your body, holding your hips or placing a palm to feel the baby.

“Wish you would call it at the clinic, baby, I really do,” he murmured. 

“I know,” you sighed, “not yet, though. My mind feels fine. I’m taking it as easy as I can there, I promise, and you know I’m in the right place if I need anything.” You looked down at his hands gently circling your stomach. “I know by now it’s useless to ask you to not worry, but please, take it easy on yourself, too,” you said, placing your hand on his.

Joel wanted to bury his face in your hair, carry you to bed, hold on to you and rub your feet and bring you tea for the next four weeks. He didn’t deserve you, mindful as you were towards his worries and the health of the entire town. “You’re askin’ for the impossible, babe, you know that.” 

You laughed lightly. “I know. I can try. At least I didn’t leverage doctor’s orders this time.” You tilted your head back, resting on his chest. “I’ll take a few more days, keep making some plans with the staff, and see how I feel later this week. ‘kay?”

“ ‘kay,” he echoed. You moved to step forward and reach for a dresser drawer again, but Joel followed and gently tugged you back against him. You opened your mouth to softly protest - you did need to get moving, after all - but Joel slid his hands firmly under your stomach, warm and sturdy, and without even realizing what was happening, you felt the pressure in his hands increase and a blessed lightness spread across the top of your hips and your pelvic muscles. 

Joel leaned back just slightly, the weight of your belly in his hands, and he heard you make a noise he had never even heard you make in bed. “Oh God,” you groaned, drawing it out in a soft sigh. “I didn't even realize how much that- please don't move, I just want to stay-” you let your arms drop, thoughts of a shirt vanishing as you let yourself be cradled in this temporary, bodily gravity defying relief. 

Joel wanted to chuckle at your words, but the deep instinct to simultaneously protect you while bringing you so close, around him, be inside you, kicked up again. He could only rest his forehead on the crown of your head, remind himself that you were here and whole and healthy, and marvel at your innate strength and abundant spirit to allow your body to be changed for him and for your family. He would always strive to be worthy of you, he knew that now. For now, that meant standing quietly in your home together, swaying gently, holding you and your child, your whole universe in his hands.

[johnnylandslide]

WoL Magic Cards Tutorial!

I'd made a custom Magic: the Gathering card of Johnny recently, and shared it in the Seafloor discord, and since there was a lot of interest in the concept I figured a tutorial might be nice so we have something to do while we wait for plugins to come back. Here goes!

Download CardConjurer This is the tool I use to make custom cards. It's just a web app developed by a college student; he got DMCA'd by WOTC so it's not hosted on the internet anymore, but you can still run it locally.

Just unzip the contents somewhere, and then run launcher.exe when you're ready. It should open up the app in a browser tab.

2. Navigate to the Card Creator

3. Pick out a Frame

Enter this search box on the right. We're going to be using the Nickname ("Godzilla") frames. These give us a small subtitle box below the card name that indicates what the Magic card's actual name is.

If you want to create a custom card instead, use the Borderless frames.

In the menu below, you should see the different colors of the borderless frames. You'll have to add three of these elements to the card: the text box, the card name, and the power/toughness box. Do them in that order, by clicking each element and then Add Frame to Card. If your card is legendary (or if you feel like it), use the Crown option rather than just Title.

You'll have to choose the correct color. If your chosen card is monocolor or >=3 colors, this is very easy since you can just choose that color or gold, but for two-color cards the process is slightly more involved. First, add the color that goes on the left using the Add Frame to Card button, and then add the right color using the Add Frame to Card (Right Half) button. Use the gold power/toughness box.

If any of the card elements get out of order, you can reorder them using the layers controls at the bottom of the page.

4. Import the card text

Navigate to the Import/Save tab, and type in the name of the real card you're putting your OC over. Select the specific version of it using the dropdown afterwards.

(For some reason, Firefox suggests completing this field with my credit card information. I think it knows more about Magic than it's letting on.)

After the card is imported, navigate back to the Frame tab, and click Load Frame Version. This will force the text on the card to fit into the frame set that's currently selected in the bar on the right, which should still be the Nickname ("Godzilla") from earlier.

We should have something closely resembling the real card in the editor, now.

5. Make it yours!

First off, go to the Art tab, and upload your image. Once it shows up, you can adjust it by clicking the actual card in the editor. Clicking and dragging pans it around, shift+clicking scales, and ctrl+click rotates.

Next, pop over to the Set Symbol tab and remove it, since this is your own card and isn't from a Magic set.

And now, go over to the Text tab to finish this off! Start by entering your card name into the Nickname tab.

If your chosen card name is too long and ends up clipping the mana cost, you can reduce the width of the text box with the Edit Bounds menu until it fits.

Next, go to Rules Text to update the name if the card refers to itself. I changed all instances of "Vadrik" to "Johnny". Since this card is really just to look at and not to play with, I also renamed the Day/Night mechanic to fit the Black Mage flavor even better. Feel free to get creative!

You can use {flavor} to add flavor text as well. I added the {lns} commands after some words to add line breaks to make the text blocks look better.

You can also edit the typeline in the Type tab, if the creature type doesn't match your WoL. Johnny is already a Human Wizard though, so I didn't have to do that. Technically this would be a mechanical change of the card, but since these aren't real cards anyway I think it's a valid concession to make. Just don't go abusing it if you actually end up printing these out LOL

6. Download the card image

Finally, head back over to Import/Save, scroll all the way to the bottom, and hit Download you card.

And you're done! There's obviously a lot more that's possible with CardConjurer, and tons of avenues for creativity. If you end up following this tutorial, or creating any other FFXIV-related MTG cards, I would really love to see them!

[bellysoupset]

Max Meeting The Gang

"A whole weekend?" Max raised his eyebrows, watching the football practice as if he understood a single thing about the game. Next to him, Vince was his perfect opposite, actually enthralled by it all and occasionally cheering.

Vince was wrapped up in a cardigan on top of his sweater and he hadn't shaved in a couple days, so his perpetual five o'clock shadow had leveled up into a full beard. He still looked pale and gaunt from that horrible flu bout, despite more than a week having passed since. Frankly, Max had been surprised when Vince showed up to his classes on Tuesday, instead of taking the day off.

"Yeah, we leave Friday after class and come back Sunday night," Vince answered, waving to his sister as the cheerleaders entered the field, "it'll be fun, Max."

"I don't know, Vince," Max shrugged, rolling his eyes as he saw a bunch of girls look in his direction and start to giggle, "they're your friends, not mine."

"Yeah, that's how you make new friends," Vince reached in and squeezed his nape in affectionate manner, shoving Max slightly, "you know my girlfriend already, that's two."

Max crossed his arms, chewing on his bottom lip, "I guess... I'll think about it."

"Well, don't think too hard, I need to know by Thursday because I'm grocery shopping before heading there," Vin shivered violently, pulling his cardigan tighter around himself and Max eyed him worriedly, but didn't say anything, "if it's anything, I think you'll really like them."

That wasn't what concerned Max. Vince clearly was really really close with his friends, if anything they seemed more like family than just friendship, and Max had a weird fright deep in his guts, like he was just about to meet Vince's parents. Not that it made any sense, he had never been the type to meet the parents of the people he dated, he knew Mr. and Mrs. Monacelli already and, oh yeah, he was not dating Vince.

However the fear was the same, that he was going to meet Vince's friends, they'd decide they hated him, and he'd kiss his friendship with Vin goodbye.

"Get out of your head," Vince jabbed his elbow in Max's tummy, not too hard, "it's going to be fun... I'd like if you came."

And really, did Max ever stand a chance against such words?

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

Since Max had a car and Vince was going to go grocery shopping beforehand, they decided to go together. Max wasn't so sure about all of this, he wanted to bolt and his stomach was churning with nerves, but Vince was making a damn good job of making sure he couldn't, like by riding along with him.

"VIN!"

Max looked up in time to see a blur of dark hair and then Wendy was tackling her boyfriend into a hug, kissing his face all over, "oh my god, you look horrible," she whined mid kisses and Vince chuckled, planting her down on the ground.

"Thanks?"

"You look so pale, doesn't he look pale, Max?" Wendy cupped her boyfriend's face, "this is like the third stomach flu you had in six months, I'm putting you in quarantine."

Vince laughed at that, wrapping his arms around Wendy and giving her a hug from behind, pressing a kiss to her temple, "you sound like my mom, honey."

Wendy let out a little scoff at that, but it vanished quickly as her green eyes paused on Max and her pout melted into a smile, "hey, I'm so happy you decided to come," she perked up to give him a hug, leaving him stunned.

Max's whole face was a shade of red, when the front door of the cabin opened and a group of people stepped out. He recognized Vince's friend, Luke, immediately, the one with dark wavy hair and just as tall as Vin was. He was chatting with two other men, who were holding hands and clearly a couple.

"Guys!" Vince called out their attention, "Max, these are Luke, Leo and Jon. Guys, this is Daniels," he introduced them with a smile and Max wanted to shrink in his shoes. He felt clammy and nauseous all of sudden, but forced up a lopsided smile that communicated he wasn't so anxious he could vomit.

The man Vince had pointed out as Jon, raised a hand, all smooth and formal, "nice to meet you, Daniels."

"Just Max," he cleared his throat, shaking Jonah's hand and then Leo perked up to do the same, although he looked much more friendly than his boyfriend.

Luke didn't shake his hand at all, only offered him a tight smile, "hi Max."

"Where's Bell?" Vince asked, frowning and squeezing Max's shoulder, "oh there she is."

Max followed Vince's gaze and then raised his eyebrows as he saw a stunning ginger getting out of the house. She was wearing a black bikini top and jeans shorts, curly hair falling like a mane around her face and Max's jaw all but dropped.

He stepped aside in order not to be stepped on by her, as Bella apparently didn't even register him before tackling Vince with a hug. She squeezed him tightly, murmuring in a strained voice, "I've missed you."

Then her eyes landed on Max and she raised her eyebrows, scrutinizing him, "that's Daniels?"

"In the flesh," he answered before he could think better of it and she seemed momentarily surprised she had asked that out loud and that he had answered. Bella measured him up and down, then smiled.

"I thought you'd be taller."

"Well, this isn't awkward at all," Vince teased, while Wendy wrapped an arm around his waist and laughed, "let's go inside the house."

Max was more than a little dizzy with the amount of information he had to absorb in such a short time. Vince and Wendy shared a room upstairs, as well as Jonah and Leo. Downstairs, Luke and Bella had the third room and Max was delegated to the sofa bed, in the living room — which he didn't mind in the least but still made a big show of complaining about, just because he enjoyed watching Vince fumble over himself in search of a solution.

"You're mean," Leo whispered, leaning in his direction, as Vince continued to try and argue with Jonah and Luke that they should all draw straws.

"I prefer fun," Max retorted, smiling back at the other man, "so how long have you known Vince?"

"Since his first week of college," Leo shrugged, resting his back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms to his chest, "he came to college already in the team, but I was doing try outs. Adopted me on the spot."

"And here I was feeling special," Max rolled his eyes, "he does that a lot?"

"Adopt strays? Not as much as Luke does," Leo let out an amused huff as his boyfriend told Vince he was not switching room and that was final, "not you though, he hates you."

"Couldn't have guessed," Max snorted, as if he could ignore the way Lucas was all stiff around him or the over the top PDA he was displaying with his wife simply because Max had looked at Bella.

"He's just jealous that Vince likes you," Leo shrugged, patting Max's arm, "it'll wear off by the end of the weekend, Luke can't hold a grudge."

Across the kitchen, Luke said something in a low, snappy voice that caused Jonah's eyebrows to jump and Vince to frown, shutting his mouth in a tight line.

"Maybe we should intervene?"

"Nah, let them hash it out," Bella's said, pushing herself between them and resting her back comfortably against Leo's arm. She was holding a beer and looking Max up and down like he was a zoo animal, "so how long you were in?"

"Jesus, Bell, you can't just ask people that," Leo exclaimed, while Max let out an amused snort. He hadn't ever told Vince that he had done time, so he wondered how she knew this.

"Just two days, protest arrest," Max answered, but never quite started that conversation, since Wendy wrapped a hand around his wrist and tugged at it, all the while saying loudly:

"Enough with the gossiping, we were all gonna go in the lake."

He did not, in fact, want to go in the lake. Ever since the day before his stomach had been a mess, which Max was chalking up to nerves, and he felt weirdly self conscious of stripping before this group, when his belly was sticking out, bloated and crampy.

Still, it was a warm, sunny day out and he had no excuse not to go in. He paced around the shore, as Bella raced Wendy down the pier and they both jumped, followed by Luke and Leo, the blonde spluttering up water and pushing his hair back as he yelled, "c'mon guys! Jon!"

Jonah was all smooth, unlike his friends who still behaved like kids, he took his time to strip and neatly fold his clothes, before walking into the lake instead of jumping from the pier.

"Aren't you gonna get in?" Vince patted Max's shoulder and the man shrugged, feeling horribly out of place.

"I don't know about this whole weekend, man," he started to complain, but Vin cut him off with a dramatic gesture. He always talked with his hands, really not helping the stereotype.

"You haven't been here for an hour," he said with a heavy sigh, kicking off his shoes, "if you still wanna leave by night, I'll drive you back, alright?"

Sounded good enough, even if Max felt a pang of guilt at the idea of Vin wasting another 3 hours of his weekend by driving Max back to Doveport, then back again to the cabin.

"Alright-" he stripped off his shirt, wincing slightly when his stomach let out a nauseated growl and rolled, breakfast sitting like a fucking brick.

Next to him, Vince stripped his shirt and threw it on top of Jonah's carefully folded pile, messing it up and causing the man to shout all the way back from the lake, "VINCE!"

"C'mooon, get in, Vin! Max!" Wendy squealed, drowning Jonah's shout and climbing on his back so she could have some leverage. She was the shortest of the group and while Luke was standing on solid ground, Wendy was panting as she struggled to keep her head afloat.

Max let his eyes wander, roaming over the expanse of Vince's naked back and biting down a dreamy sigh. By now he had seen Vin shirtless - and fully naked, thanks to the recent flu from hell - more than he ever thought he would. Still, the guy was a vision.

He removed his own shirt and grimaced at his stomach, wondering if it was visible to anyone else how upset the organ was, then dumped his wallet and cell on top of his shirt and kicked off his shoes, joining the group.

The water felt extremely cold against his skin and he shivered violently, letting out a string of curses when Vince promptly dunked his head in the water as soon as Max was close enough.

He came up spluttering and cursing, only for Wendy to be smiling at him and shut him up easy like that, "Welcome to the group, Max," she whispered in his ear and Max opened his mouth to reply, only for Bella to dive and tug at his feet, causing him to go underwater once again.

[jammed-out]

Hypnovember Day 11 - Video Game

(CW: transformation, feline transformation, master driven transformation)

KAT - So the new immersion chamber by synthetic labs is out. I'm thinking about getting one.

MST - You definitely should. I know a few people who have and they love it. Says it makes the game really come to life. In fact let's both get one. We can play together, what's that game you like?

KAT - Fictional Fantasy League. I know you'd love it!

MST - Fine. We can both get it and play together. What do you say?

---

A week later Kay was finishing setting up the box in the corner of his room when he got a message from Mary. Sure they had never met in person, but after gaming together for the last decade they were as close as friends as you could get.

MST - Hurry up. I can't wait for you to get in here.

Kay rolled his eyes turning back to setting up the chamber. It was not what he expected, the big dark box that sat in the corner of his bedroom without any noticeable details to it. Just a big glossy door with a handle sticking out of it. He was kind of nervous. Some of the recent stories about people using it and coming out, different seemed kind of suspicious but they were just stories online of course. People lie all the time on line.

KAT - Almost set up. You get started. I'll be right there.

MST - Don't keep me waiting long! You know how impatient I get.

Kay rolled his eyes and plugged the last cord into his computer. The installation started automatically and all he had to do was wait for it to finish. The green ping popped up and he quickly launched the game, his favorite, Fictional Fantasy League. He could hear the panel behind him start and unlatch itself, inviting him in.

He quickly undressed and opened the door stepping in. It was weird that they recommended using it completely naked but it seemed safe enough. Probably for the immersion part of it, he assumed. He slowly closed the door behind him and heard it seal tightly with a suction click.

Nothing happened as he stood in the darkness, waiting. Slowly the room pulsed green as a web of lights rose from the floor scanning him.

Initializing baseline mental and physical state.

It rose higher before disappearing into the ceiling. He didn't feel anything different, just as if he was scanned, which was, weird.

Baseline locked. Loading game.

Suddenly the room exploded in light. Everything was glowing, pulsing in a rhythmic warm hue. Slowly the lighting changed as pillars of stone loaded in around him. He was standing on a stone floor, in a field, surrounded by pillars lit by candlelight. Overhead, trees rustled in the air. Grass blew by. It smelled like, a field. He could feel the stone beneath his feet. It was sightly damp to the touch. Everything felt so real.

A menu popped up in front of his face. A character customization screen. He knew this screen, he had used it dozens of times before to create a character for the game. But this time, the character was him. He slowly reached up to the screen and wondered what would happen if he just nudged something like hair length. There was a tingle in his head as his hair grew longer, now touching his shoulders. He stopped surprised, maybe the stories online were true.

A notification popped up surprising him before he could go any further.

MST - Hurry up and get in here! Just use the character preset I'm sending you. Don't overthink it like always.

A file appeared at the bottom of the popup. All it said was "CAT". Must've been a joke of course or a mistype. Kay grabbed it and dropped it onto their customization window. Imported character models weren't new for the game, but Kay wondered what had been prepped for him.

He gasped and doubled over as his body erupted in electricity. His chest doubled in size swelling growing larger by the second. He could feel himself shrinking, his hips flaring outward as his waist pinched inward. He tried to stand up, to reach the panel but immediately tumbled forward off balance, falling to his knees. He looked at his hands on the stone ground, small claws and fur erupting from them, covering his hands. It kept crawling up and something shot out of his back smacking him on the head. He looked trying to catch only to bite his tail. Yelping in pain he scratched his head.

He stood up looking at his character sheet. There were so many words on it. So many things to push. He wanted to poke them all. They seemed so shiny. So fun. Like a game. He loved games.

MST - you coming? Just accept my request already.

Something popped up on the screen. Something new. With a flashing button. Kay quickly poked it and suddenly everything changed. The world blurred as trees spun into a set of warm wooden walls. It was some sort of tavern. He was sure he had been here before but it was so silly now to try to remember. Everything was so new this time. So original.

“Wow. You came out great Kitten! I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. You always seemed more like a Kitten than a Kat.”

Kitten turned around eyes glistening. Cloaked in a large flowing red gown with a circlet above her head was Master. Kitten beamed brightly, excitedly and skipped over nuzzling against Master’s leg.

“Head up now Kitten. Let me see your eyes.” Kitten obeyed looking up straight into a glowing purple spell.

“Much better. You were right. This game is great. Especially since I can use magic to change reality and better yet, you. Do you like your new body?”

Kitten nodded running one of his new cat ears under Master’s hand. The lights twinkled twirling around his head, digging into his brain, changing his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking Kitten. We should meet in the real world. Especially as soft and docile as you are now. It’s not safe for a Kitten to be all alone.”

Kitten twisted his head confused. A flash of the light however remedied that. It made sense. Kitten shouldn’t be alone. Kitten should obey commands.

“Good. Now what do you think Kitten. I only went for half elf, but I was thinking you’d enjoy something a bit larger in the future. But how about you show me that cute little butt of yours so we can see just how immersive this really is.”

Kitten did a little twirl, head still turned, facing the glowing spell. He bent down, raising his ass up in the air, giving his tail a swish. “Mrow.” He said with a little wink. His cock twitched eagerly as he rubbed his swollen breasts against the ground. Hopefully Master enjoyed using him.

[fvckhxpe]

scenes from a mixtape

(originally published in Juked magazine, January 2007)

I slide the mixtape into the stereo and press play.  She takes off her low-cut socks and throws them at me, humming along to the Gin Blossoms.  The loneliness leaks from me in slow drips until it disappears.

She thinks I'm crazy and she loves me.  Two of the same and we're poisoning each other, unhealthy decomposition losing its heartbeat.  Talking, together, copulating, her arms circling a torso, any waistline, but now it's mine.  Anyone would do, as long as they're bent/broken, so she and I continue on borrowed time.  And love comes in waves, small packages, coffins, a gesture, the way she mixes her fingers into mine when she grabs for my hand.  I know her well.  Sweet when tongues taste her, she's reminiscent of an old flower, the small yellow blossoms mothers teach children to behead and suck from the bottom, all the honeysuckle, a strange taste.  There must be a mathematical theory for her body, from the curve of her ass up to her perfect neck—her lips that are shamans when she speaks in the low-pitched rasp that soothes and shakes everything.  And to be there as she exists, to hear her sing in the shower, to watch her stir sugar into her coffee.  To feel tense, waiting for her to yell over:

      "Your goddamn typing is driving me crazy!"

And I keep pounding intricate diagonals of confessional bullshit (c-o-n-f-e-s-s-i-o-n-a-l SPACE b-u-l-l-s-h-i-t).  Up from the typewriter at the kitchen table, spying her form hanging in the doorframe of the bathroom, pouring drain cleaner into the sink.  Long looks across the room—we're fifteen feet apart and we miss each other.  We're killing each other.  She's walking to the bed.  I'm still typing.  "New Day Rising" kicks in quiet on the stereo—a barely audible gurgling, complete with tape hissssss.  I count one thousand and twenty-six words and I've got nothing more to say, but I don't want to stop.  I type ellipses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . until she calls over to me.

      "Your goddamn typing is driving me crazy!"

The tape pops and the tape's over, a loss of lo-fi noise, the songs slept to in younger years, the songs of the local college radio, the alternative, the rock and grunge and post-rock and post-grunge—flipping the cassette over and readying it for side two—play—and the buzzing starts, crackling from the dust and age of the carbon.  I remember the tape, I remember not having the money for a proper blank one, so it reads as a collection of Christmas traditionals erased over, small wads of paper still jammed in the top to fool the tape deck 'record' button.

      "Today is the greatest day I've ever known, can't wait for tomorrooooow . . ."

      She remembers this song, she sings along.  I leave the typewriter for her, I abandon and slither under the covers.  We sing the song together.

She's a knife cutting into me, in a way I won't comprehend until the pain is no longer there.  Long stretches of nothingness with her head on my chest, waiting for the sun to rise.  Early:  she doesn't inhale, she lets air come to her.  She stands on the heels of her feet, leaning into it, smiling with her eyes closed as if waking up is an endless pit into which she falls.  She lets her chest extend out and she yaaaaaaaaaawns and falls back to the mattress.

      "Do you think McDonald's is still serving breakfast?"

      The clock reads seven twenty-four a.m.

      "Is it really that early?"

      Seven twenty-five a.m.

      "I'm going back to sleep."

It goes wrong somewhere deep and patterned, the way she would run her thumb along the paper of a thick book she was thinking of buying as we stood in the downtown bookstore, the pages fluttering in a blow.  She and I, we had built swift and perfect on the downhill and were imploding like a dying sun with nothing more than a sliver of why it had all started.  It becomes open range barbwire and we never stop running, and when a love like that catches your skin, it shreds you and you bleed out right there, exactly where you fall.  We feel our timeline freefall:  I'm ordered to get a job; she stares in disgust at the typewriter; I spend more time at the labor office.  The air between us is white noise, bottoming out with frost as a blanket.  We're numb.  And one night Hüsker Dü kicks in on the tape deck and we're sitting on opposite sides of the apartment—not out of anger, simply necessity.  Neither of us sings along, and she stops telling me my goddamn typing is driving her crazy.

Days pass and I miss them, right past me, forgetting the clock, forgetting the shades are down.  I hardly sleep, the dreams aren't pleasant.  I sit at the edge of the mattress most nights; she sleeps through the sound of creaking boxsprings.  We keep on, the borrowed time decays.  And one day while I'm downtown pawning videos and selling blood for rent money, she realizes we're tearing each other apart with our separate young madnesses, and there's no disappearing act like the one that leaves me wondering how she took all her things in one trip.  We fall from orbit and burn up on reentry.  She leaves, things devolve, become simpler.  And the loneliness crawls back inside my stomach and drills into my spine.  It stays.  She's found a new waistline for her arms.

And I make a new mixtape.

[mimisempai]

Quiet place

Summary

Faced with a rain-soaked Crowley, Aziraphale acts like a mother hen, pampering his demon so well that the demon soon forgets how cold the rain was and feels only warmth.

Notes

Features a fire place and a lot of cuddles

On Ao3

Rating G -  1048 words

Crowley closed the door with a sigh and stood there in his soaked clothes, his hair dripping, not knowing what to do for a moment. 

To say he was surprised by the downpour would be an understatement. He'd gone to feed the ducks that nested near the small pond at the bottom of their garden, and just as he'd finished, the rain had suddenly come down, and the time it took him to get back to the cottage had been enough to leave him in this drenched state.

As he bent down to take off his shoes, he heard Aziraphale approaching.

He stood and found himself facing the angel, who was glaring up and down at him.

Crowley shrugged and said with a wry smile, "It's raining..."

Aziraphale, rolling his eyes, immediately helped Crowley off with his soaked jacket and grumbled, "This is no time for silly jokes. You'll get sick if you stay like this!"

When Crowley started to protest, Aziraphale added, "Yes, yes, I know, demons and angels don't get sick, but do you really want to tempt the devil? I know, bad choice of words. But anyway, what I mean is, we've been told we don't get sick, but who's really tested it, hm? So hurry up, get out of those wet clothes and take a hot shower..."

The angel pushed the demon toward the bathroom and Crowley chuckled, "You're quite the mother hen, Angel."

He turned to Aziraphale and quickly kissed him on the lips before saying, "Not that I mind, quite the opposite."

Aziraphale sighed.

"Crowley..." 

The demon raised his hands in surrender and headed for the bathroom.

"Okay, okay, I'll go..."

A few minutes later, he emerged from the shower and was welcomed into the arms of Aziraphale, who spread a large towel in front of him and helped him dry off before handing him warm, cozy clothes. Crowley, secretly happy to be the object of such attention, allowed himself to be pampered without resistance.

Then the angel led him into the living room, where Crowley saw that the fireplace was lit, radiating soft light and, more importantly, comforting warmth. Aziraphale made him sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace and sat down beside him. Crowley saw two steaming cups of tea on the coffee table.

He swallowed, overwhelmed with emotion at how cozy it looked. He thought he'd never get used to the feeling, but who could blame him when he and Aziraphale, despite their extended existences, had only just created this home together. 

He'd felt this way sometimes when he'd visited the bookshop, but it was always a time when they both lived under the pressure of Hell and Heaven, now, here, this was truly home. Smiling, he turned to Aziraphale, who had opened his arms for Crowley to snuggle into.

"Thanks for doing this for me, Angel."

"Not just for you, for both of us. I appreciate this kind of moment as much as you do. It's not just you who loves taking care of me." 

Aziraphale gave Crowley a kiss on the forehead before wrapping a blanket around them.

Crowley hummed with contentment and lifted his head to press a light kiss to the angel's chin. Aziraphale smiled as he handed him one of the cups, and after taking a sip, Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale's shoulder, his eyes drifting to the fire.

Together, in front of the fire, they talked about everything and nothing, the quiet conversation interrupted from time to time by kisses, caresses and laughter. The easy conversation of two people who have known each other for so long, but still have things to say to each other.

Then, seeing that the fire needed rekindling, Crowley started to get up, but Aziraphale held him back, saying quietly, "Stay here."

Astonished, the demon saw Aziraphale make a slight movement of his hand and the fire resumed its crackle and light.

Crowley looked falsely shocked and exclaimed, "Angel, how dare you? What about the human way?"

Aziraphale replied, "To hell with the human way, there is no way we are getting off this couch in the next few hours for something as trivial as rekindling the fire."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and said suggestively, "Oh...and what are we going to do on this couch for the next few hours?"

Instead of answering, Aziraphale leaned over him and traced a trail of kisses down Crowley's slender throat, leaving the demon moaning in pleasure. Aziraphale chuckled, then whispered in his lover's ear, "Does that answer your question?"

Aziraphale's hand slipped under Crowley's hoodie to feel his bare skin under his fingers, making Crowley shiver. The panting demon protested without much conviction, "Hey, Angel, what's the point of warming me up with a hot shower and a fire if you're just going to make me shiver afterwards?"

But the way he arched under the Angel's hands belied his words, so Aziraphale continued to run his fingers over the demon's skin, causing more shivers, and Crowley didn't even think about protesting anymore. 

Even less so when the angel's lips replaced his hands and began to map the demon's belly and chest, pulling up his hoodie.

Until Crowley could hold on no longer, and as Aziraphale's lips lingered on a small mole on the demon's hip, he removed the hoodie, tossed it to the floor, and, placing his hands on the back of the angel's neck, applied light pressure until Aziraphale brought his face close enough to capture his lips in a kiss whose heat had nothing to envy the fire in the fireplace.

And later, much later, as they lay, their naked bodies intertwined under the soft blanket, Crowley broke the silence and said softly, "I love you."

The warmth, the feel of his angel's arms around him, the breath in his hair, all of it wrapped him in a peaceful calm and he felt a gentle numbness wash over him.

"I love you."

The angel's voice in his hair was the last thing Crowley heard before he drifted off.

Aziraphale, feeling the demon fall asleep against him, raised his hand to rekindle the fire one last time, then, after planting a final kiss in the red hair, let himself be carried away by sleep as well.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

South Downs cottage series : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[peach-top]

❝𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉❞

➤ ACT O. | FINAL

➤ FAREWELL DARK CACAO KINGDOM

“Ah? A letter from Dark Cacao Cookie?” the pure blonde questioned as the blue bird arrived with a letter.

The pure blonde gently grabs the letter and reads it. He perked up.

“....Who's…Dark Cacao Cookie…?”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“Your majesty, you have a letter from the Dark Cacao Kingdom.” Smoked Cheese Cookie announced while holding a letter.

“Oh? That's rich coming from someone who's always so grumpy!” Golden Cheese Cookie chuckled. “Read it for me!”

Smoked Cheese Cookie huffed then read the letter out loud. While through the letter, the general was interested, but also unsavory by the idea about the wanderer. Golden Cheese Cookie was interested upon hearing what's going on at the Dark Cacao Kingdom.

“Oh? A wanderer who ends the madness of those beasts that attacked the kingdom? Most of all, since when did that gloomy king become so soft?” Golden Cheese Cookie questioned. She then murmured, “...Hm…Should I trust him into my kingdom…?”

Smoked Cheese Cookie overheard her words, “A wanderer…there's something about him…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“Oh-ho! A letter from my dear friend! I didn't know he missed me that much!” unnamed huntress laughed.

The unnamed huntress opened the letter. The female read through the letter from top to bottom and she couldn't help but burst out laughing upon reading it, “HAHAHAHAHA! It looks like Dark Cacao Cookie grew soft for this wanderer! I would like to see him for myself!”

“But unfortunately…I'm not in the kingdom at the time being…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“Elder Faerie Cookie, it's a letter from the Dark Cacao Kingdom.” Silverbell Cookie called out to the guardian. “It was given to White Lily Cookie, but— Would you like to read it?”

“...?” Elder Faerie Cookie was going to hesitate but took the letter anyway. The elder faerie opened the letter and read them. His eyes widened with interest. The wanderer known as [Y] is someone that Millennial Tree has mentioned to him.

“Impossible…You mean…?” Elder Faerie Cookie gasped. Millennial Tree nodded, “I was surprised that it worked. I was able to give him the life stone to keep him alive.”

“But why? What if he remembers it all and destroy—”

“No worry, Elder Faerie Cookie. He won't be able to return back to the past. Besides…he’s the one who ended himself.” The spirit of the forest stated. The faerie’s eyes widened, “You mean to tell me that the lord ended himself? But why?!?”

“That's just a theory. I theorized that something inside him wished to end it all. He…was just a different cookie before being corrupted…” Millennial Tree frowned.

“...How did you know about that?” Elder Faerie raised his eyebrows. “Not many cookies knew how he was made nor knew if he was a different cookie. You weren't made when he was baked.”

Millennial Tree sighed, nervously fiddling his fingers, “...Will you believe me if I say that I've seen the one who created him was in my dream?”

“...!” Elder Faerie was taken back by this. He knows Millennial Tree wouldn't lie which is impossible not to believe him. “...Can't say that I don't…”

“The creator is someone I'm worrying about. They sometimes appear in my dreams, threatening me to hand him to them.” Millennial Tree furrowed his eyebrows. “But I will not allow that even if it risks my life. [Y] must live on with his new life as someone new. I cannot let him feel guilty of those sins he caused. He has the right to be happy and a second chance at life. Just trust me on this, Elder Faerie Cookie.”

“...If I were to meet this [Y], I'll see what he's capable of…” Elder Faerie sighed.

“This is him. The one who Millennial Tree Cookie was talking about…” Elder Faerie thought. He then turned to Silverbell Cookie, “Silverbell Cookie, here's someone I would like for you to trust once they arrive in the kingdom.”

“Huh?”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

The next day, it's time for [Y] to leave. Most of the people really don't want him to leave because they admire him a lot. They give him gifts and souvenirs to show their gratitude.

“It's a shame to see you go, Sir [Y]...” One of the warriors frowned.

“Yeah. Without your help, we would've been done for…” another warrior said.

“I don't want to go either, but there's still more places to explore. I would like to know more about the outside world.” [Y] smiled. “Don't worry, I will return if you ever need my help. Just send me a letter. I have animal friends who can help you send the letters.”

“We won't forget your heroic act in saving the kingdom. We will honor you.” Caramel Arrow Cookie genuinely smiles at the taller male.

“Thanks, Caramel Arrow Cookie. I'm sure you're even more heroic than I am. It's a great choice to have you as the first watcher.”

“Remember, I've given you one of my specialties. The smell will follow wherever you go so you can think of me.” Affogato Cookie chuckled. The first watcher huffed, “Hope you're not poisoning him.”

“Why would I poison such a pure soul?” The priest glared at the female. “I'm only giving him something as a gift. I adore him after all.”

“Thank you, Affogato Cookie. I won't forget you or that ice cream coffee. It's one of the best ones I've ever tasted.” [Y] beamed.

“...!” Affogato Cookie blushed then looked away while fiddling with his staff, “A…ah. Don't worry, when you return, I'll make you more. I've left you a recipe in case you need it!”

“I'll be sure to remember.” The taller male nodded.

Crunchy Chip Cookie pushed Affogato Cookie aside, “Hey! We haven't finished our training yet! You promise that you'll teach me how to communicate with dragons!”

“Oh, right. We can continue when I return. Licorice Dragon would like to communicate with you while I'm gone. You'll be able to understand.” [Y] said then handed the short male a handmade whistle. “Since she's an ally, you just have to blow the whistle if you need anything. I entrust you to take care of her and her babies.”

Crunchy Chip Cookie saluted, “I vowed to protect the Licorice Dragons and the kingdom! If anything happens to them, I won't forgive anyone who harms them!”

“That the beast tamer for you.” [Y] chuckled, patting the male on the head, much to his please.

Dark Cacao cleared his throat to grab [Y]’s attention, “We thank you for protecting our kingdom, [Y]. We'll be looking forward to your next visit.”

“My pleasure. It was nice to be here. I was able to learn so much about this kingdom and meet new people. Thank you for having me here.” [Y] grinned.

Dark Cacao was a little taken back, but softly smiled, “I'm glad we were able to give you fond memories. You are free to enter the kingdom even if it's set. There's no need to wait for anyone to open the gate. They just open it for you.”

“I will remember. Thank you.”

“...” Dark Cacao Cookie wanted to give him one last gift, but he's not sure if he was prepared for it. However, he can't let [Y] leave with a gift from him. He remembers what he told himself:

ACTION SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS.

“Well…bye. See you all again.” [Y] waved. The others excluding the ruler wave back to him as he is about to leave. Before he could leave, Dark Cacao grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him in a kiss, shocking everyone around him.

“M-my liege?!” the second watcher gawked.

The raven haired ruler pulled away and left without a word, leaving everyone flabbergasted. [Y] was more confused than shocked. He has seen his animal friends with their nose nuzzles together, but people who are his kind do mouth-to-mouth. So…that was his first kiss.

“Is that a normal way to say goodbye?” [Y] asked innocently. The denizens look at the male with concern.

“Pure soul doesn't know what a “kiss” is…”

“Ah…No, [Y]. It's—” Caramel Arrow Cookie leaned over and whispered in the taller male’s ear.

“Oh. Then is it ok to kiss you guys, I like you guys a lot.” [Y] asked.

The denizens were flustered by the fact that the wanderer admitted that he likes them, but the kissing is out of the question.

“N-no need.. “ Caramel Arrow Cookie sweatdropped. “I don't know if I could explain any further. How's his majesty doing?”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Dark Cacao Cookie was burning up. Kissing the wanderer then walking away, he must've thought the ruler is weird. A knock on his door was heard, “Come in.”

“My liege.” Caramel Arrow Cookie peek into the room. Dark Cacao Cookie sighed, “Did he leave?”

“Yes, he did.”

“...He didn't look disgusted, did he?”

“Well…more like clueless. He seems to like it, but he was bewildered on how it works.” The first watcher scratches the back of her head with a nervous smile on her face.

The raven haired ruler was astounded, but he found it amusing, causing him to chuckle softly upon realizing how daring the wanderer can be.

“Hahahaha…I see. Good to know.” Dark Cacao Cookie smiled fondly.

“His majesty has acted differently since the wanderer arrived. Seeing him smile for the first time is like a blessing. I hope nothing takes away that smile.” Caramel Arrow Cookie chuckled quietly.

╭ ⁞ ❏. facts

┊ ⁞ ❏. there are so many things [y] still need to learn

┊ ⁞ ❏. dark choco cookie, here we come!

┊ ⁞ ❏. fire spirit once trying to get [y] to swear, but failed when wind archer find out

┊ ⁞ ❏. [y] may or may not have connection to the beast cookies

➤ chapter vi

➤ act i. | non-existent friend.

[passionateseadruid]

That time Lucifer turned his best friend into a duck

Cw:slight Yandere elements

Lucifer sat on his thrown with a big yellow duck on his lap.

Yep, that's me. You're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.

—+—

"Lucifer you need to get out of your workshop!" You tried to open the door to his workshop. He'd been in there for 4 days straight and everyone was starting to get worried! (It was more like just you and Charlie (and Vaggie because Vaggie cares about whatever Charlie cares about) but still, he had people who were worried sick about him)

"No! I'm fine! I just need to put the finishing touches on my tropical vacation duck  and I'll be right out!"

"You have said that every hour I came by! First it was cowboy duck, then it was bunny duck, then it was maid dress duck, and last time it was steampunk duck! What will it be next time? Maybe a Vaporeon duck or a witch duck?" You huff.

"OOOOH! Wait let me write that down!" He said excitedly

"LUCIFER!!" You groaned and struggled with the golden doorhandle.

"Come on, apple-tart! Just one more duck!" Lucifer begged.

You finally decided to try lock-picking the lock. "Sorry Duckie, but this is for your own good!"

"Wait! No! Please! I'll do anything! Just let me make one more duck!"

You finally heard the lock click and the door handle finally turned. You opened the door as Lucifer screamed and a gold light came at you faster than you could react. When your vision came back you were standing only a foot off the ground, the world towered before you.

Lucifer... WHY AM I SHORTER THAN YOU!

You said in your mind but all that came out was "Quack! Quack Quack!"

"Well um... is that really important? The important thing is that I'm not the shortest person in the room for once!"

Ugh... of course you understand duck.

"Wait! How'd you know you're a duck now?"

It's kinda obvious. I mean, what other animal quacks?

"oh… well shit.”

Lucifer! I don't want to be a duck!

"But you're so cute as a duck." He stuck his bottom lip out and pouted.

Don't you dare do that! You know I can't say no to you when you look so sad.

"I'm just saying… a real best friend would do whatever it takes to make me happy…"

That's incredible manipulative and hypocritical! As my best friend you should respect my wish to not be a duck!

"But…" He tried to think of some way to persuade you. "If… if you were a duck, I’d pamper you… and then we’d both have our needs taken care of!"

You promise that if I let you pamper me in duck form you’ll take care of yourself? You asked skeptically.

"I promise." He nodded, pride dripped in his voice.

…fine! I will stay a duck… BUT JUST FOR TODAY!! You’re turning me back tomorrow!

Lucifer squealed in delight and scooped you up to hold you in his arms. It sucks being shorter than Lucifer.

—+—

At first he was just cuddling you and brushing out your feathers.

Lucifer... how is this helping either of us?

"It's making you look pretty, and in turn that bolsters my reputation." He said proudly.

WHAT REPUTATION? YOU'RE A HERMIT! YOU NEVER LEAVE THE PALACE UNLESS CHARLIE INVITES YOU OVER!

"Shh... apple pie, just let me have this. It feels good doesn't it?"

...

"Apple pie?"

I plead the fifth.

—+—

Next it was feeding you.

"Here!" He feed you grape by individual grape.

Lucifer, you don't need to feed me by hand. I may not have opposable thumbs anymore but that doesn't mean that I'm a helpless baby.

"I know, but I'm pampering you! You promised that I could pamper you." He booped your beak.

I suppose I did...

"Good, now shut up." He pushed one more grape into your mouth

You are eating yourself right?

"Of course! Two for you... and one for me." He popped a grape in his mouth and scritched under your chin.

ahhhh... You quacked purred in delight.

You looked up to see Lucifer had the most smug look on his face. "See? I knew you enjoyed being my pet~"

The double entendre was not lost on you. You were so glad that you were a duck right now so Lucifer couldn't see how absolutely flustered you were.

You stepped on a grape, spraying it's juices all over you. What a shame. Guess we have to put this little conversation on hold while you bathe me.

He smirked like he just won the argument. "You're not exactly helping your case." He teased.

Just get the bubbles going...

—+—

Then it was bathing you.

He starts to take off his vest and unbutton his shirt.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

"What does it look like I'm doing? I don't want to get my clothes wet." He rolled his eyes.

B-but... why do you need to be shirtless?! Don't you have a tank top or a robe or something to put on?!

His smirk became devious. "Do I make you... nervous?"

Please don't be weird while I'm in a duck body

"Good point." He picked you up and dropped you over the tub. "Now let's get that purple out of your beautiful feathers, shall we?"

Mhm! You smiled and leaned into his hands. His charcoal hands were softer than expected. His fingers were tender as they worked the shampoo through your soft, delicate, yellow feathers. Maybe being a duck wasn't so bad. Maybe being his pet wasn't so bad.

—+—

So that's basically how you got here. Wrapped in a towel, in Lucifers lap (while he sat above the residents of hell on his throne), as he pet you again.

Duckie... 'm tired...

"You're tired apple pie?" He smiled softly at you.

mhm...

"wanna go to bed?" He offered and walked toward his room

Want you to hold me too... you need your sleep...

He laughed. "I know, apple pie. I know."

You promise you'll stay with me?

"I promise." He laid down with you on his chest.

—+—

The next morning he woke up before you did...

And he saw you back in your normal form... but instead of the clothes you were in when you were turned...

you were in nothing more than a feather silk robe...

"Oh golly..." His face turned into a beautiful gold hue.