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whatswrongwithblue · 6 months ago

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Based on your recent post: "your heart is beating so fast right now" (Alastor x Reader) - maybe some snu snu please? Thank you! ❤️

I am so sorry this took me so long! It's just been a crazy week and I'm preggers and always so tired but I hope you like it. I had to look up what snu snu was and while it's not exact, I hope the rough sex does it for ya!

Trigger warnings: Rough sex, oral (fem receiving), p/v, biting, clawing, choking, use of shadow tendrils/tentacles.

When you had first begun this little romance with Alastor, you had made a lot of assumptions about what it would be like.

You had expected him to be a doting gentleman, maybe even a bit over the top. Opening doors for you, offering his arm, cooking for you, etc etc. And that was all very spot on.

You had also prepared yourself for him to be a bit of a jealous type and that was also certainly true. There had already been a few conversations about boundaries and you assured him that the second you needed his help scaring off someone, you would be happy to unleash him but he wasn’t allowed to threaten to eat someone just because you were friendly to them.

And then there was the matter of sex. You had assumed incorrectly that after that first quite passionate kiss that he would whisk you away to his room and ravish you. Or the second kiss. Or the third.

But nothing else had happened yet. There had been a plethora of opportunities for him to make a move and yet he was clearly one for taking things slowly.

It left you feeling more confused than frustrated because he clearly adored you and wasn’t shy about the fact that he considered you two an item now. Perhaps it was just because he was an older soul but this was Hell. It wasn’t like a little bit of forward behavior down here was frowned upon.

And then the day that Lucifer and Mimzy showed up to the hotel came and you were reminded of a very particular side of Alastor that you found unbearably attractive.

It’s time I remind everyone why I am here.

That confidence. That glee in his eye. The ease in which he eviscerated his enemies. Not to mention the increase in his size and the number of appendages he had when he went full demon on everyone.

You had spent the rest of the afternoon in a tense, silent, rather wet uncomfortableness as you waited for evening to come so you could get a little alone time with your new significant other.

Evening finally came and found you at Alastor’s door. You had spent a few minutes pacing your room, hoping he would come to you, but of course he hadn’t. It was time to take matters into your own hands so you lifted your arm, ready to knock, when the door flung open before you could.

Alastor grinned at you as he noticed your hand still being held in mid air.

“So you were going to knock. I thought you were going to stand there all night.”

“Why would I do that when there are far better things I could be doing this evening?” you said, feeling unusually bold.

“Is that so?” Alastor raised an eyebrow at you as he stepped aside and gestured with his arm to invite you inside.

You walked a few feet into the room and then turned to face him and instantly felt your body warm under his gaze.

He looked angry, or at least as angry as Alastor could look. The strained smile, the pinched brows, the ridge of fur along his ears all dead give aways that the demon that was usually so composed was still very bothered by the events of the day.

But his body language towards you was much more welcoming. So you took your chances and rushed over to him, took his face in your hands, and pulled him down into a heated kiss.

He went tense at your touch but only for a moment before he was melting into the embrace, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in closer.

There had been plenty of fantasies before tonight that you entertained yourself with when alone in your bed. Images of tender, slow love-making for your first time with Alastor. But that was not what you were craving now and you had a gut feeling it wasn’t what Alastor needed either.

Your hands were everywhere on him; running through his hair, caressing the back of his neck, sliding beneath the lapels of his jacket.

And the way he was kissing you back was only spurring you on. You could feel his need, his own frustration and pent up aggression, in the way his lips crashed against yours with a bruising ferocity and his tongue sought entrance. You parted your lips and invited him in and the taste of him was intoxicating.

He was practically humming with power beneath your touch; he was strung taught with it and you wanted nothing more than for him to unleash it on you.

“I want you.”

The words left your lips the moment you pulled away for air, the statement more a demand than a plea. Your eyes met his in time to see them momentarily blaze a brighter red at your admission.

“Are you certain?” he asked slowly. He was offering you an out; giving you a warning. “Tonight is not what I had imagined for us. I do not have it in me to be gentle right now. Not even with you.”

“I don’t want gentle,” you assured him and brought your lips back to his.

Alastor kissed along your jawline and then dipped his head lower to kiss along your neck.

You let out an involuntary squeak when he bit you, rather hard. You could feel the sinking in of his teeth and then the warm wetness of his tongue as he lapped at the wound he had created along your pulse point.

“Your heart is beating so fast right now,” he whispered, his lips tickling your flesh as he kept his attention at your neck. “If I didn’t want you so badly, I would eat you alive right now.”

“I’m not scared,” you insisted and Alastor pulled away from your neck then to look into your eyes with a mischievous smile.

“Oh, trust me, my love,” he was with a wicked chuckle. “I know.”

____

You were spread across his bed and naked within a few minutes. No time to savor the discarding of clothes, no time to relish in the delight of seeing each other nude for the first time.

No, neither you nor Alastor had the patience for that. Rather, he had you on your back with his face buried between your legs before you could even think of being self-conscious or get a good glimpse of his body.

All you could see now as you looked down your torso at him was his antlers and ears pointed straight at you and the ashen bare skin of his shoulders and arms as he forced your legs wide.

And in a sense he was doing exactly as he had threatened he might do; he was practically eating you alive. There were already a multitude of bite marks along the inside of your thighs, leaving smears of blood along both your skin and his while his tongue and his lips were doing devilish things at your core. Stroking and prodding and sucking on every fold, every inch, every sensitive collection of nerves inside and out of you. Occasionally you felt the edge of his teeth graze your most intimate flesh, never biting down, but each sharp sting added a new thrill to the sensation and made you feel like he was truly and utterly devouring you. All the while you rutted against him, crying out in a mix of pleasure and pain, clawing at his hair as you grew closer and closer to that wonderful edge, and he dug his talons into your hips and thighs in an attempt to gain some control over your movements.

His tongue dived into your depths, curling up and licking in just the right ways, and those unnaturally red eyes of his met yours and you came undone, helplessly shuddering against him as he finally mastered his control over your senses, leaving you breathless and blinking up at the ceiling in a daze after it ended.

You were vaguely aware of him lifting himself up from between your legs but you hadn’t even caught your breath when he had you flipped onto your stomach and aggressively grabbed your hips to lift them upwards with a strength you didn’t know he possessed in this form.

“I’ll ask you one more time, ma cher,” you heard him say in his husky, staticky voice. “Are you sure you want this?”

You huffed a laugh into the sheets beneath your cheek, way passed feeling shy knowing that he had your entire backside and pussy exposed to his gaze at the moment.

“Always the gentleman,” you answered breathily. “But shut up and fuck me, already.”

With a complete lack of verbal response, he slid his cock into you, ramming his hips against the swell of your cheeks as he bottomed out.

He grunted and you cried out as he stretched you to your limits but true to his word, he was far from gentle. Hardly giving your body a second to adjust to the size of him, he set up a rapid pace, sliding almost all the way out before slamming into you over and over again.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praised, though his tone of voice was anything but polite. “If only you could see how well you take me.”

Your brain went numb as he set your body on fire; absolutely aflame with lust and delight as he pounded into you from behind. There was no room in your mind for dirty talk when all that you were felt narrowed down to the claws holding up your hips and the cock that was working every inch of your core in a way you had never experienced before.

But it seemed Alastor still had his wits about him and had no pity for the state he had put you in.

“Did you like what you saw today?”

All you could do to respond was moan and clench your walls tighter around his length.

Alastor grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you head back, forcing your back into a painful arch as he kept your hips raised and open, never once losing his ceaseless rhythm into you.

“I asked you a question.”

You felt your body gush at the roughness and the stinging pain at your scalp, your pussy squeezing his cock with new enthusiasm at the anger in his voice. It didn’t scare you, it thrilled you and turned you on even more.

“Yes,” you panted.

“That’s what it takes to get you to want to fuck me? And I thought you were such a sweet thing.”

“What? No – no, I- ” You whimpered as the grip on your hair tightened and you felt the stinging of tears in your eyes beginning to build. But rather than try and pull away, you pushed your hips up and backwards, encouraging Alastor to keep up this act of roughness with you.

“I’ve wanted you every . . . every night,” you managed between gasps and the forceful rocking of your body. “Today just made me want you like this.”

He was silent for a minute as he considered your words, the only sound in the room the wet noises coming from your joined bodies and your coinciding moans.

And then you felt them, cool little tendrils sliding around your body, a cascade of shadows slithering across the skin of your thighs and back.

“And what else did you see today . . . that aroused you to such a point?” Alastor asked. The shadows snaked their way higher, wrapping around your ribcage and caressing your dangling breasts.

He still had your head yanked back by your hair so you couldn’t see them but you knew exactly what they were; those tentacles or tendrils or ropes, whatever they were. Weapons of shadow that Alastor had unleashed that afternoon on the loan sharks, now stroking your body – now completely trapping you to his bed.

You were going to come right then and there, thinking of those lengths of darkness that had disemboweled demons before your very eyes and how wonderful they felt being used on you this way. One toyed with your navel before trailing lower and twisting around the apex of your thighs, stroking that little swollen pearl of nerves with a dexterity and skill that shocked you.

A loud moan tore from your lips, your mouth hanging open at the sensation of it. There were so many of them, you weren’t sure you could count them even if you could see your body from a different vantage point, but you were utterly consumed in their embrace, forcing you completely still as Alastor continued to fuck you with perfect, unrestrained viciousness.

He practically sung your name, a warning for you to respond to his questioning before he had to punish you again.

“These,” you whispered, knowing he could hear you perfectly well. Just in time for one of the tendrils to begin stroking your jawline, you managed to tilt your head enough to capture it with your mouth and give it a seductive wet suck.

Alastor hissed behind you and snapped his hips in an uncontrolled rhythm for a moment and you grinned around the swollen black shadow between your teeth as you realized they were quite sensitive little appendages.

You salivated, letting your drool coat the delicious tendril and took it in deeper before hollowing out your cheeks and giving it another hard suck as you pulled your head away from it.

It yanked away from you and coiled around your neck before you could repeat the motion.

“That’s enough of that . . . for now,” Alastor said and the shadow around your neck tightened as he regained his control of the situation.

Your face turned red, burning hot, and you gasped for air, feeling the euphoria and elation wash over you as your burning lungs fought for oxygen and just when you thought you might actually faint, your orgasm crushed you from the inside out and the tangle of shadow around your neck let go.

You fell face first into the sheets as wave after wave hit you, every second of pleasure being dragged out to the fullest extent by Alastor, not letting up for a single moment as he pushed and dragged his cock through your spasming walls.

And then you were a weightless, boneless mess of flesh and nerve endings as you lay motionless beneath him as that perfect blissful minute ended, only coming back to reality when you felt the change in your lover above and behind you.

His thrusts became shallower, his grip on your hips tightening as his talons dug into you flesh, inch by inch, and then you felt the subtle but telltale twitch of his cock and the warmth of his seed filling you up until it was spilling out of you, coating your folds and trickling down your inner thighs.

Bruised and bleeding, and still tingling with post-coital bliss, you found yourself in Alastor’s arms as you lay on your side, your face buried in his bare and furry chest.

Hands that were now tender and loving, with no threat of claws or cuts, stroked your hair and along your spine as you both came down from your high.

You relaxed into his embrace, basking in the sweet moment; the exact opposite and perfect balance to the rough fucking you had just received. After several minutes, you expected yourself to fall asleep but your mind kept lingering on what had just transpired and rather than feel sated, you felt your thighs rubbing against each other with renewed need.

Nuzzling into his chest fluff, you let your hands become more brazen on his body and you found yourself kissing a trail along his collar bone and up his neck before you heard a deep chuckle come out of him, the vibration of it strong enough to be felt against your lips as you sucked hard just below his adam’s apple.

“Oh you insatiable thing,” he said through his laughter and then he was grabbing you by the jaw and forcing you to look into his eyes. “Want more?”

You couldn’t tell if his tone was challenging or threatening but either way it sent another wave of desire straight down into your core that was still throbbing from how thoroughly it had just been fucked.

Smiling at him, you just gave him one simple nod, and looked eagerly up at him through hooded lashes.

“Well then,” he said, and from the corner of your eyes, you saw those shadowy tendrils re-appear. “Let’s see just how talented that mouth of yours is.”

More request prompts here! Or send me an original one of your own. Only stipulation is they must be Alastor x Reader or take place in the universe of my main fic, The Fire in the Sin.

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queenshelby · 1 year ago

Text

An Illicit Affair

Part 20: FILMED

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

The following day, just as Danielle had planned, Max went to Cillian's apartment to let the cable company inside, telling them to close the door behind them once they were done.

"Will do," said the contractor engaged by Danielle before getting to work and installing cameras and sound equipment in the master bedroom and living room.

He hid them securely behind paintings on the wall and furniture, while making sure that they were connected to a secure server online.

"There, I think that should cover most areas," he said confidently, tightening the screws one last time, attaching the final device, before finally calling Danielle and giving her the access codes.

When he provided the information to her, he reminded her again that she was breaking boundaries by installing surveillance devices in her own home to spy on her husband, but she did not seem to care.

"You get paid well for this kind of job, don't you?" she chuckled over the phone, rolling her eyes and brushing off his concerns. "So, don't worry about me," she said. "I'll handle the consequences," she insisted before hanging up on him.

The technician shrugged in agreement, but the conversation lingered in his mind long after he left the apartment.

Luckily for him, he also left just in time as, on the way out, he saw Cillian enter the building.

His shoot had been cancelled and he arrived back home much earlier than expected. He had done some shopping on the way, intending to cook dinner for you before you were set to arrive at his place between seven and eight.

***

As usual, you were right on time, arriving at Cillian's apartment just after seven following a long day at work.

Expectedly, by this point and following your sudden departure from his apartment last night, the anticipation of seeing him had grown significantly, and your nerves were starting to show signs of weakness.

Just last night, you admitted your feelings to him after he had done the same and whilst you had lots of talking to do about how you might be moving forward with this affair, for now, you were simply desperate to be close to him.

You had been fantasizing about Cillian all day after last night's rendezvous was being cut short and hoped that, tonight, you would not be interrupted so unexpectedly again.

You wanted to be completely lost in each other without any interruptions and that was all you could think about when stepping into the elevator, taking you up to Cillian's apartment where he was already waiting for you.

***

"You cooked?" you asked with surprise soon after he opened the door for you, causing him to nod apprehensively.

"I did," he replied softly before giving you a quick kiss as if to say "hello", following which you smiled gratefully, appreciating the effort he put into preparing dinner for you.

"I hope you are hungry," he then said and you nodded eagerly.

"I am starving," you responded sincerely. "Although I thought that we could start with dessert first," you continued teasingly, playfully batting your eyelashes as you eyed him flirtatiously.

"Well, did you bring dessert? Because I didn't make any," he winked, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. He knew exactly what you meant by dessert but played along nonetheless.

"What do you take me for? Of course, I did," you grinned back as you slowly unbuttoned your coat, beneath which you wore nothing but a set of black lingerie that left little to the imagination.

As you let your coat slide off your shoulders and onto the floor, leaving you only in your lingerie, Cillian couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise.

"Well, that looks quite delicious," he chuckled, feeling himself grow increasingly aroused.

"Thank you Cillian, I tried my best," you winked before pulling him in for a kiss.

In response, his lips met yours gently, and you could feel his body stiffen slightly beneath his clothing. As you pulled away, you noticed the hunger in his cerulean gaze. His hands found a hold of your waist, pulling you closer until there was hardly any space between you two. The scent of freshly prepared food filled the air around you, mingling with the scent of cologne that hung in the atmosphere. It was intoxicating.

"Do you need to turn the oven off or something?" you gasped, feeling his erection press against your lower stomach.

"No," Cillian murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. "Dinner is sitting on the bench. We can heat it up later. Now, all I want is you," he whispered heatedly, his grip tightening around your waist.

In response, you leaned in close, pressing your lips against his. The taste of passion swirled between you both, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart thumped faster, matching the rhythm of the growing tension between you. As you kissed, Cillian pushed the strap of your bra aside, exposing one breast. He took it gently in his hand, grazing it with his thumb before sucking on your nipple. You moaned softly, arching your back, inviting more.

"Hmm," you gasped. "More," you then demanded. Cillian obliged, his tongue tracing circles around your nipple and then trailing downwards across your chest towards your navel. Your breath hitched, and you clung onto his arms tightly, not wanting him to stop.

"Lets take this to the bedroom," Cillian suggested huskily, breaking the spell of pleasure that seemed to envelop you both.

Without hesitation, you grabbed his hand and led him to the bedroom for what would undoubtedly be a night of intense passion. Once inside, Cillian closed the door behind you, locking out the world for just you two. You stood near the bed, gazing intently at each other. The fire burning within you both grew stronger.

"Take off your clothes," you told him firmly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

"As you wish," he responded cautiously, already halfway undressed. You watched as he removed his shirt, revealing his lean freckled torso.

His muscles rippled slightly as he reached for his belt buckle, loosening it before sliding his pants down to reveal his black CK briefs. He paused momentarily, meeting your gaze, a smoldering intensity igniting in his eyes. You felt a growing warmth pooling between your legs, and your nipples hardened under the thin lace fabric of your bra.

"Let's get rid of these as well," he murmured, reaching for your bra clasp, gently opening it before allowing the garment to fall of your shoulders. The sensation of your breasts bouncing free sent a jolt of excitement through you.

You let out a soft sigh as Cillian cupped them gently, running his thumbs over your nipples, causing you to arch your back in ecstasy. He leaned in close, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he teased you with soft kisses. His fingers slowly slid down your stomach, tracing lines across your belly button. You felt a shiver run down your spine and a throbbing need begin to build deep within you.

He then hooked his fingers into the lace hem of your panties, gently easing them down over your hips and thighs until they pooled around your ankles. The cool air caressing your most intimate parts caused goosebumps to break out along your skin. His gaze locked onto you as he lifted his head to meet your eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"I've been looking forward to this," he admitted softly, his voice thick with lust. You swallowed nervously, unable to tear your gaze away from his. The room suddenly felt hotter, and you knew it wasn't just the fire blazing in the fireplace.

"Now lie down for me and let me taste you," Cillian commanded, his voice low and seductive. You obeyed without question, eager to feel his skilled touch.

Your heart raced as you lay down on the bed, your pulse pounding in the silence of the room. Cillian kneeled beside you, his eyes dark and full of desire. He moved closer, his warm breath brushing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"God you are beautiful," he whispered as he traced light patterns along your inner thigh, drawing ever closer to your center. \

Your breath quickened, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. When his finger finally touched you, you inhaled sharply, biting your lip to suppress a moan. Cillian licked his lips, watching your reaction closely.

"You're so wet," he observed, his voice hushed yet insinuating. "You really want this, don't you?"

"Always," you nodded, too nervous to speak. He dipped a finger inside you, testing your readiness.

You cried out softly, your muscles clenching around him. A small smirk played on his lips, and he withdrew his finger, licking it once before repeating the process. This time, he added another finger, stretching you open.

"Oh God!" you whimpered, squirming beneath him. "Please, Cillian!"

He looked up at you, his eyes shining with lust. "Please what?" he taunted, smiling wickedly.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded.

"I want you to kiss me," you groan, unable to resist anymore.

"Kiss you where?" he asks, his voice dripping with sultry confidence.

"Right here," you plead, motioning towards your throbbing core.

Cillian smiles devilishly as he lowered his face between your legs. You gasped, arching your back as his hot breath washes over your sensitive flesh. He paused just long enough to tease you before diving in, kissing and licking every inch of your sweet spot.

"Fuck, yes!" you screamed, digging your nails into the bedding as Cillian's mouth hungrily worked on you. His tongue darted in and out, expertly flicking against your swollen clit. Each flick brought you closer to the edge, your entire body quivering with anticipation.

"That feels so good," you panted, throwing your head back and forth in sheer bliss.

You felt his tongue pause for a moment, the tip lightly grazing your engorged clitoris.

A surge of raw desire coursed through you, your pussy clenching spasmodically around his fingers. Cillian's eyes sparkled mischievously as he dragged his lips up your inner thigh, kissing the sensitive flesh just below your crotch.

"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed heavily, his voice vibrating against your trembling skin. "I've wanted you since the first day I saw you," he admitted, causing you to moan even louder.

"Oh god, Cillian, please!" you begged, thrashing around on the bed. "Don't stop now!"

With those words, Cillian's tongue resumed its assault on your pussy, plunging deeper and deeper inside you. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt yourself rapidly approaching orgasm. Your breathing became ragged, and your body shook uncontrollably beneath him.

"I'm gonna cum!" you screamed, gripping the sheets tightly. "Just like that, Cillian! Yes!"

The room filled with the sounds of slurping and groaning, punctuated by your desperate pleas for release. Cillian's talented tongue danced around your clit, making you writhe helplessly on the mattress. You wanted to come so badly, but he kept edging you, refusing to give you the satisfaction you craved.

"Fuck, please!" you screamed, clutching at the sheets beneath you. "I need to come!"

Cillian's eyes gleamed mischievously as he shifted his attention upwards, planting soft kisses against your inner thigh. With each new sensation, your need for release intensified, your body craving satisfaction like never before.

"Not yet. Not until my cock is buried deep inside you," Cillian growls against your skin, his tone thick with lust. His words send a wave of electricity through your veins, causing your heart to race and your pussy to clench.

"Are you ready for me?" he asked, his voice rough and commanding. Before you can even respond, he pulled away, leaving you panting and begging for more.

He stroked his cock, slick with pre-cum, before aligning it with your entrance. "Look at us," he murmured, guiding your head to look down at the sight of you both. "We're perfect together," he then groaned, watching his cock tease your wet pussy.

His words drove you wild, and you bit your lip to stop from screaming. Instead, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, letting him know how much you wanted him.

"God, I want you inside me," you moaned, the anticipation building within you. " I want you so fucking bad right now," you whimpered, his fingers slipping easily inside you again, reminding you of how incredible he made you feel.

"Then beg for it," Cillian teased, his fingers moving in a tantalizing rhythm before withdrawing them again.

His cock then pressed against your wet folds, almost penetrating you, but stopping just in time to maintain the exquisite torture.

"Cillian, please fuck me," you pleaded, your voice barely audible, strained with desperation but Cillian simply chuckled, his voice dark and husky, filled with raw lust.

"I need your cock, please," you begged, reaching out to grab his shaft. "RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

"Fuck you make me so hard Y/N," Cillian rasped, his voice husky with longing.

You heard yourself moan, the sound echoing in the room around you. Cillian was a master of control, and he knew exactly how to draw out your pleasure. You arched your back, thrusting your pelvis upward, silently begging for him to fill you.

But Cillian continued to torment you, sliding your lubricated juices over his cockhead.

"Ah," he groaned, pumping his dick, coating it with your slick essence. He was determined to make sure you were ready for him. And oh, you were. More than ready. Your whole body yearned for him. But still, he refused to enter you.

"You're driving me crazy," you moaned, clawing at his arms, trying to pull him inside you. "Please, stop fooling around and just fuck me!"

Cillian merely chuckled again, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"Alright, alright," he cooed before slowly pushing his cock inside you. You gasped, biting your lip, as you felt yourself stretch around him.

"Oh, fuuuuck," you moaned. "Yes, yes, yessss... That feels so good," you sighed, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of being filled by him.

He responded with a low, guttural growl, squeezing your hips tightly. His cock pulsed within you, filling you up completely. You could feel the steady throb of his member, rubbing against your most sensitive spots. It was pure bliss.

"You're so tight," Cillian whispered, burying his face in your neck. "I can't believe how good you feel every time we do this," he moaned before he pulled out slightly, only to thrust back inside you with force.

You gasped sharply, your nails digging into his arms. By this point, neither of you knew that you were being recorded, the hidden camera in the corner of the room capturing every passionate moment.

"God, I love you," Cillian murmured, his words muffled by your skin.

"I love you too! Fuck!" you moaned, reveling in the feeling of his cock pulsating inside you.

"Harder, Cillian," you begged, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling him closer. "Fuck me harder!"

Cillian complied, increasing the speed and power of his thrusts. Your bodies slammed together, creating a symphony of skin slapping against skin. Each movement sent waves of pleasure radiating from your core, threatening to consume you entirely.

"I am so close Cillian," you whimpered, tightening your grip on his shoulders. "And I want you to cum deep inside me."

Cillian responded with a low, guttural growl, squeezing your hips tightly. The throbbing sensation intensified, his cock pulsing within you, grinding against your most sensitive spots. "I'm going to explode inside you," he grunted, burying his face in your neck. "Fuck," he cursed, his movements becoming erratic.

You could hear the desperation in his voice, the frantic pace of his thrusts escalating with urgency. "Come with me," he panted, his voice hoarse. "Cum for me, baby."

You held him tighter, your nails digging into his skin. The familiar sensation of an orgasm building within you overwhelmed everything else. You cried out, your voice blending with Cillian's, rising to a fever pitch as you both neared completion.

"I'm coming!" you cried, your body convulsing around him as he thrust harder, deeper, and faster, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. The pressure built within you, intensifying with every passing second. Your grip on his shoulders tightened, nails digging into his skin. you shouted, your voice hoarse.

You came hard and fast and Cillian redoubled his efforts, his cock slamming into you with renewed vigor. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure shooting through him, finally sending him over the edge. He groaned loudly, his body stiffening as he emptied his seed deep inside you.

"Ah," he gasped, collapsing on top of you, his sweat-covered body heavy and sticky.

After catching his breath, he pulled out of you, his cum mixing with your juices as it dripped onto the sheets.

"Damn," he muttered, kissing your shoulder. "That was amazing."

You could only manage a weak smile, exhausted from the intense encounter while, unbeknownst to you, a hidden camera had recorded your every move.

Still, lying beneath Cillian, you remained blissfully unaware of the intrusion, instead focusing on the residual sensations coursing through your body.

"You okay?" Cillian asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Yeah," you managed to reply weakly, still struggling to catch your breath.

"Good, because I am not done with you yet," he teased, propping himself up on his elbows and staring down at you with a mischievous grin.

"Oh no," you laughed, playfully pushing him away. "How about dinner first and then we you can fuck me all night long," you teased, wriggling your eyebrows suggestively. Cillian chuckled deeply, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"It's a deal," he agreed, planting a quick kiss on your forehead before helping you up from the bed.

"Come on, let's go eat," he urged, leading you out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen.

To be continued...

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@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine

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megs-1800 · 4 months ago

Text

Always have your back

Note: Please as always leave me feedback and any requests

Summary: Everything is going well with you and Mason until your ex starts messaging you and pressuring you to send him money. Mason is the one who cleared all the mess that your ex left behind. How is Mason going to accept you helping your ex again?

Pairings: Mason Mount x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Fluff and toxic ex

It’s a freezing autumn night, I am sat curled up in my Disney pjs, hair up in a bun, blanket and Netflix on. Mason has a Tuesday night kick off tonight so I know he won’t be home until late. I quickly snap a photo of me curled up and send it to Mason with the caption “wish you were here ;)” then quickly forwarded it up with “good luck my number 7 go out and smash it”. I know he probably cannot reply but I least I text him some encouragement. I then put my phone down and started to cook dinner.

Thats when my Facebook notification binged up, no one ever messages me on FB. My profile is private so it’s not like any fans can message me and all the people I talk to have my number so I am confused. That’s when I see the name show up ‘James’. Fuck! I thought, what the hell does this prick want. James was my ex that I was with just before me and Mason got together, he left me in loads of debt and hating my life. Then I saw the message he just put “Hi x” I messaged straight back “Hi” with no kiss I did not want to engage with this conversation. I can see the message was opened and he was typing, he was typing for quite a while that’s when it finally binged again. It said:

“Look I know you hate me, I am sorry for what I did to you. I was hurt you ended it. I know it was my fault for all the lies and the drugs I was a mess but I am different now. I am trying to turn my life around Y/N/N. I just owe these dealers money and I need to pay them, I cleared most of it I just need another £200. Once that’s paid that’s everyone cleared and I can focus on my new life. I am scared they threatening to come to my mums and my sisters house, please you know how much they meant to you. Please, I start a new job tomorrow and I get paid weekly so I will pay you back at the end of next week, I promise this time no bullshit”.

I didn’t want to believe him, I have heard all these lies before but I know the trouble he can get in and the people he gets involved with are serious. How could I live with myself if his family got hurt when I could help? I really didn’t want to but its just £200 in the scheme of things what is that? I replied “Yeah sure it’s a one off I will not send you anymore and I want it back on Friday.” He replied thanking me and send me the bank details on where to send it and confirmed he would send it straight back. I really wanted to believe him this time.

The next couple of days were busy with work and Mason has been busy with training, you know how hard he is working to ensure he doesn’t get injured again which I am praying his non-injury spell lasts. I was working away at home when I heard my phone buzz again, it was a FB notification. I saw it was James again. “Hey Y/N, I really wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate. Is there any chance I could borrow £100 please? I literally have no food in the house, I haven’t eaten in days please I promise I will pay it back?”. Again I thought what happens if he hadn’t eaten? How can I live with myself knowing that he was starving and I could help and I didn’t. So once again I sent it.

I wanted to speak to Mason about it, I hated hiding this from him but I knew he would never understand. He hated James with a passion. I met Mason whilst I was still with James. I made it clear to Mason I wasn’t a cheat and he never pressured me and ensure our conversations were PG. That was until I confided in Mason that I was tired of James’s bullshit and I didn’t want to be with him anymore. That’s when Mason stepped in and supported me to leave James. The problem is that James agreed to support me with the rent (as we still had 7 months left on the tenancy) and all the credit cards and loans I took out for him. Of course he didn’t though and I was struggling to pay it all myself. I didn’t want to tell Mason but he forced it out of me when he realised how stressed I was. A couple of days later I had a call from my landlord to say the flat I was living in was sold, I knew then it was Mason. When I confronted him about it, he explained he put the property in my name so its mine, I can do whatever I want with it. I was fuming but I know it did it out of kindness. Then a couple of weeks later I received a large deposit into my account, Mason gave me the money to clear the loans and credit cards. You have never been shown kindness like that in your life, you didn’t even want to use the money you just left in your account for weeks not knowing what to do. Mason kept insisting you used it and said he would be offended if you didn’t. He promised he would never tell a soul he did that and would never used it against you, you trusted him. You tried to pay Mason back each month, but he refused to take it, he explained you could repay him by going out on a date with him.. that’s how you both started dating. So that’s why you couldn’t tell Mason the truth, after he did all that and to find out you were still helping James out, he would flip out.

The Friday came when James was suppose to pay you, shocker he doesn’t and when you message him asking if he going to send it back he reads the messages and ignores it. Great I thought I should of known better.

The following Sunday we went to Mason’s family for Sunday dinner, it was a long drive so we went down their Saturday night and ended up staying down. I love his family and his parents treat me like their own. I couldn’t ask for better inlaws. The food was amazing! I am so full. It has been such a good day with laughter and smiles. I am all curled up on their sofa trying to stretch my belly out as its now cramping from the amount of food I just digested. That’s when I hear the dreaded sound of my FB messenger notification again. I was just going to ignore it as I knew exactly who it was and I didn’t want him ruining my mood right now. I quickly looked at it though, I just wanted him to go away. Again he was asking for money, SHOCK! I thought. I messaged straight back putting my foot down, I don’t care about the reasoning I knows its all bullshit anyway, I replied “No James, no fucking more! You lied and never paid me back its all bullshit now leave me alone before I block you!”. That’s when another 5 notifications came through. Mason looked over at me “Jheez somebody is popular” He laughed. I laughed back trying to put Mason at ease “it must be Lauren you know what she is like can never just text a paragraph she gotta send me a couple of words per text”. Mason nodded and agreed he knew what she was like. I picked it up and saw the disgusting texts that were sent back, calling me a slag, how I am only with Mason for his money, saying how I could just get Mason to sort it out but I cannot ‘be bothered’, how I never did anything for him, how I was too big and ugly to be a WAG. Mason looked up at me in concern as he saw my mood change, he didn’t press as he knew I wouldn’t say anything in front of his parents but made a mental note to speak to me about it later. My phone buzzed another 5 times, this time Mason shot me a look as to say what the hell is going on, who the hell is that? I made a quick a joke to say “Must just be my other boyfriend” which Mason’s parents laughed at but Mason didn’t seem too impressed. He knew you were hiding something from him. It continued with the horrible words, in the end you just wanted it to stop, you wanted him to just leave you alone. You don’t know why you did it you just needed it to stop so you could enjoy the rest of your day. You quickly sent him another £100 and put your phone on silent.

The ride home was quiet, I could tell Mason wanted to ask you about the text messages but didn’t want to cause an argument tonight after such a nice day.

Mason was laying on your bed playing Fifa but couldn’t concentrate, you were lying next to him asleep you were such a heavy sleeper you would not be waking up anytime soon. Mason looks over at your phone next to you on the bedside table, he doesn’t want to do it but he needs to know what made you so upset and made your mood change like that. If someone hurt you they going to know about it he was thinking. Before he knew it he had your phone in his hands and unlocked it. He knew it was a FB messenger notification so quickly opened the app. That’s when he saw it, it was from James. Surely not, y/n couldn’t be cheating on me with her ex could she? His heart starting to break and his hands started to shake. When he opened the messages he saw the disgusting things that were being thrown at you. How dare he speak to you like that. Mason was fuming. The worst part Mason was angry that you gave in and sent him money. So he gets you into debt which I pay off and support you just for you to support him again fuck that Mason thought. He wasn’t sure how to approach this conversation now without telling you he went through your phone. He quickly put it back on the side and just laid staring at the ceiling. How dare he take advantage of your kindness. That’s the thing mason loves about you, you have such a big heart but struggle to see when people are using you. Mason just wants to protect you but he now not sure how.

The next day Mason has a day off and we have had a both needed relaxing day. I am lying on masons lap across our sofa whilst he is sat up playing fifa. That’s when I hear the dreaded FB notifications again. I quickly sat up and moved up the sofa so Mason couldn’t see over my shoulder. Shocker it was James again. This time asking for £2k, when I said I don’t have that kind of money he told me to get a loan. When I refused again he demanded I get the money of Mason. When I refused again, it started to get nasty.

Mason looked up from his controller at me, “I know”. I looked at Mason in confusion there is no way he can know. “You know what?” I ask. Mason replies “I went through your phone last night, I had to see what happened yesterday at my parents” trying to justify himself.

“Are you fucking serious Mase, you went through my phone as l slept? Is that the kind of relationship we have now?” I can feel my anger boiling and now my rage being turned from James to Mason.

“I am sorry but how are you letting him speak to you like that? He fucking broke you y/n and I was there to pick up the pieces. I am the one who cleared the debts and for what? Just for you to get yourself back into my debt helping him”

“I am not getting myself into more debt, I am only sending him the money I have!” Getting kind of pissed off with his tone.

“Yeah only because you are living off me and relied on me to pay your debts!” I am outraged how fucking dare he!

“You promised me Mason you would never use that against me are you taking the piss right now?!?!”

Mason then stops his anger in his face is now starting to soften. “Time out” he goes. Using his hands to make a T. “This is exactly what he wants, why are we arguing when it’s him who is taking advantage of you? He is the one I am pissed off with not you, I know you can never turn away someone in need”.

“I just don’t know how to sort it Mase?”, I can feel the tears starting to prick in my eyes due to the stress of it all. “If I stop sending him money he gets so angry and what happens if I do not send it and then something happens that’s on me! How could I live with myself?”. Mason gets up so he is now standing over me, “none of this is your fault, fucking none of it, he is using your kindness for weakness which is completely out of order”. I know he is right, he gets so protective, god mason is so good to me. What did I do to deserve him?

My phone binged again and then Mason turns to me “Give me your phone” Mason gestures his hand out. I am worried about what he is going to do next.

I put my phone into his hand and next thing I know he is typing away. A couple more bings went through showing me that James was replying to whatever Mason said. Mason is now pacing around the living room and I am surprised my phone screen hasn’t cracked by how hard he is slapping his thumps against it. They continue back and fourth like this for around 20 mins.

Mason then passes me my phone back, I went straight onto the messages to see what was said. “I have deleted the chat”, I am a bit disappointed I wanted to see what Mason said coming to my defence. “What did you say?” I ask. Mason smiles at me showing me that he won the fight “that doesn’t matter princess all you need to know is that he should leave you alone now.” I feel a massive weight off my shoulders now I don’t know what didn’t tell Mason before. “Just promise me something if he tries to message you again please let me know. The things I said to him, if he still had the guts to try fair play to him”, which at this Mason gives his cocky smile. “Of course Mase I promise”.

Mason flops back onto the sofa and lifts his arm up to gesture for me to lie on his lap which I did. Mason sat there running his fingers through my hair. “I will never let anyone hurt you y/n. I am sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean to throw the money in your face. I would do it all over again if I need to if it ensured your safety and protection”. I give a little smile at that and crock my head up so I am now looking up at him.

“I love you so much Mason”, he loves me dead in the eyes and gives a soft kiss to my lips. “Believe me it will never be as much as I love you y/n”.

#mason mount x you #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount #angst #fluff and angst #football #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #footballer x reader #footballer x you #manchester united

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brailsthesmolgurl · 10 months ago

Text

COOKING LESSON 101

This is a one-shot for Xavier! Hope you guys enjoy this :>

Xavier is known to be a terrible cook, but what if he was prescribed with an instructor and a recipe book? Will that change anything?

Warnings: Teeth-rotting fluff

"Do we really have to do this?" Xavier asked you, his body lazily plopped against the arm rest of the couch, eyelids half opened as he looked at you. His usual demeanour non-existent as you came barging in the mid afternoon, with a grocery bag in one hand and a recipe book in another. He knew this day was coming, but he did not expect it to happen on a weekend where he would rather spend his day curled up under the blankets.

You nodded excitedly, your ponytail bobbed up and down at your motions. "They said it's a good bonding time for couples." You held up the recipe book and started to browse through it.

"Maybe that applies to couples who can actually cook?" Xavier quirked an eyebrow, a pout forming on his lips when he knew it was too late for him to say no. He should have just pretended not to be at home, but the constant ringing of the doorbell would be a torture to his sensitive hearing.

You walked over to him and took a seat next to the couch he was laying on and you patted his head, his blond strands silky to your touch. "Why? What's with the long face?" You mimicked his pout. "You don't want to do this together?"

"No..." He trailed off, his cerulean orbs catching yours and you can almost see a gleam of disappointment within this stare. "It's just that I am not confident in my cooking skills, and I do not want to mess things up, you know." His confession made you go 'awe' and your pats on his head got a little aggressive, but not enough to hurt him.

"Xavier, there is always a first time to everything. This time, we are both going to do this together okay?" You held out your hand to him in the form of a fist, with your pinky finger dangling mid-air. "I promise okay?"

Instead of hooking your pinky to formalise the promise, the blond boy took your hand in his larger ones and kissed your pinky. A much more intimate promise of his. "Alright, if you say so." Your cheeks blushed slightly at the sudden bold interaction. His smile then exchanged for a smirk and he leans in, catching your lips in his and you returned the favour. When he pulled back, he tilted his head sideways, an abashed grin accompanied his features. “I look forward to your guidance.”

"Now, on here, it says that we have to combine the wet and dry ingredients together." You had your finger lining up towards the sentence on the book, eyes focused on the instructions. It has been like this for quite a while, you reading off of the book and him doing all of the hard work.

"Okay." He quipped, picking up the bowl containing the dry ingredients and he poured it into the wet mixture. "Do I just stir it around?" He turned towards you, an apron tied to his torso. The apron was mainly a mix of the colours pink and red, with frills sewed onto the sides of the protective garment.

You stifled your laughter, the apron looking extra adorable on him. Initially, he did not want to put on the apron, claiming it was not his type of clothing. But with a bit of coaxing, and an offer to bring him to eat hotpot later, he gladly went along with your idea.

You nodded, watching him when he started stirring the mixture together, his force making some of the flour poured out of the bowl and staining his apron. Oh, how you wished that he could have worn this without the extra layers beneath it. Then he shall be a desirable eye candy for sure. Of course, getting him to wear the apron itself has been a trouble so you could only imagine how much more troublesome would it be to convince him to be half naked in it.

"This does not...look right." He showed you the bowl and your gasped, shocked at how the mixture has a lot of air bubbles. By a lot, it is filled with air bubbles. "Maybe I whipped it too hard?" DEFINITELY.

"Xavier, I think you should go slow on the mixing process okay?" You smiled apologetically at him, giving him a pat on his shoulders and a kiss on his arm. He looked down at the bowl and took the spatula and the next thing he did, was whipping the mixture HARD. "Xavier!"

"Huh?" He looked at you, eyes widened. "I am whipping it slowly, like what you told me to do." At that moment, you felt like your instructions had fallen on deaf ears, or maybe on hands that are just not capable of cooking. But you chuckled, calming yourself down and you showed him the motions of whipping the mixture 'slowly'.

It took you around two times to get him to mix the combined ingredients till you achieve the texture that is similar within the cook book. Then, you layered parchment paper onto a baking tray and he poured the mixture onto it. The thick brown texture slowly flowed onto the parchment paper. Then, you instructed Xavier to flatten it but the moment he raised his arms up high, you stopped him. He was not going to flatten the mixture, you think he was actually going to flatten his whole floor to the ground floor.

"Just spread it out, you don't have to smack it or anything." You took over the spatula and he watched in awe at your languid movements as you spread the thick batter to cover it all over the parchment paper. "And we are done."

"Does this mean we can eat it now?" Xavier looked at the batter, confusion written on his face. There is no way you guys went through all of the trouble just to eat something that does not even look as appetising.

His question made you laughed. Oh, how innocent this boy could be. "No Xavier, we have to bake it first, then we can eat it afterwards." You brought the baking tray to the oven that he owns, but probably never touched. Opening the lid, your assumptions became true, his oven still have the smell of a freshly bought one, the metallic smell of new appliances apparently. "Now, set the temperature to 325 degrees and bake it for about 40 to 45 minutes."

Xavier bent down and started to adjust the temperature using the knobs and buttons available on the electrical appliance. Once he was done, both of you headed over to the couch to await for the brownie to be done.

DING! The chime on the oven jolted the both of you, heads turning in sync, away from the cartoon playing on the television towards the kitchen area. "I think it is done." Xavier stood up, apron still clung to him. "I will go and get it out and we can taste test it."

"Be careful, it's going to be hot, so make sure you are putting on the mittens before you are getting the tray out." He replied you with an 'okay' as he headed to the kitchen. Sounds of a door opening and closing echoed through his apartment, accompanied with the sweet, delectable smell of brownies. "It smells great Xavier!"

"Yeah it does." He appeared from the corner, tray in his mitted hands and he smiled, walking over to you carefully. This is one of the first times you had ever seen this young man trudging carefully as he always walks with a purpose in mind. "I think we managed to do it this time. Oh wait, let me get a knife to cut it as well."

He placed the tray onto the coffee table and he took long strides over to the kitchen again, judging by his hasty movements, he should be hungry already. He returned with a knife and two small plates, alongside with two forks, a smile pasted onto his face and he took a seat next to you and started cutting into it. The brownie looks really promising. Perhaps even better than the ones which are store-bought. Call it biasness, but Xavier would call it his first time success.

Two slices of brownies are placed individually onto both of the plates and you both shared a look before digging in. The pungent, fragrant smell hit the both of your mouths but what comes later was the exponential increase of saltiness within your mouth and you spit out the brownie. You looked over to Xavier, his eyes closed and you can tell he was not enjoying the slightest bit for the salty piece of dessert. But he forced it down his throat anyways. "How much salt did you put into this Xavier?"

"Just two spoonfuls like what you said." He looked at you with those puppy eyes of his, a genuine reaction.

"Alright, was it 1/4 of a tablespoon?" You asked, recalling during then, you were too busy replying to Tara on your phone hence you did not noticed the amount of salt he had put in, or the type of spoon he used to measure the amount of salt.

"I didn't know which one it was, so I scooped the salt with the biggest spoon they have." His answer made you smiled at him, not disappointed, but you wished you could have monitored him better. At least he tried, so that should matter more. "Did it tasted that bad?"

"It's just a little bit salty." Your reply made him looked down at the brownie and you were worried that he might not take your answer well. "It's okay Xavier, shall we just stick to store-bought brownies next time?"

"Or, we can just go for hotpot now." He put the plate back onto the table, next to the tray. "Then when we come back, we can try baking it again." He smiled at you and took your hand into his, a confident smile on his face.

This is the one-shot for you Xavier girlies out there! Poor Xavier can't cook but we all know that at least he is willing to give it his best and to try again and again, just to spend precious time with you ;) Hope all of you enjoyed it!

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #fluffy #lnds #xavier x reader

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monarch-butterfly-03 · 7 days ago

Text

Tutor - Tom Holland (One Shot)

"Tom, quit it." Paddy snarled.

"Thomas, quit teasing your brother." Nikki Holland shouted from the kitchen earning a chuckle from Tom.

The four brothers were lounging in the living room of their parents house for their monthly family dinner playing video games to spare the suspense of the meal their mother was cooking up in the kitchen and the barbecue their father was brewing in the garden.

This was Tom's favourite part of the month.

With his busy schedule between movies, interviews, and auditions, he barely had time with his family. But by having assigned dinners every month made him have something to look forward too.

As much as he failed to admit it, he missed his family. A lot. He missed his moms cooking, his dad's horrible jokes, and teasing his younger brothers endlessly. Especially when hearing his youngest brother, Patty, has a tutor from his failing grades.

A tutor that the youngest Holland has a massive crush on.

Patty's face was bright red and he was slumped down in the couch, trying to hide from the teasing from his brothers. Harry and Sam were dedicated in their video game but would add teasing comments between their competitive bickering. Much to Patty's despise.

Tom smirked taking another sip from the cold beer in his grasp and gave Tessa asleep on the couch beside him. He fixed his baseball cap that rested backwards on his head when finishing the bottle, leaning back in the cushions.

"Oi, isn't she a lil old for you mate?" Harry quipped with his eyes glued to the tv and fingers attacking the controller between his hands.

Paddy buried his face in his hands as Tom grinned wider from this new fact. "Oi, does our Padster have a thing for older women?" He nudged Paddy's arm and earned a groan from the victim.

"She isn't that old." Paddy argued, his voice muffled by his hands. "She's only six years older than me."

"Six years? She is closer to Harry and Sam's age than yours." Tom pointed out and Paddy shot a warning glare to his eldest brother. "Look, I say make your move. The worst she can say is no."

"Easy for you to say. You're a movie star who has girls falling for you from a single glance. I am just a newbie actor who is falling at school from all of these auditions." Paddy grumbled.

Tom grinned softened and he placed his empty bottle on the coffee table. "Paddy, can I offer some advice?"

"I'd prefer if you didn't." Paddy admitted, earning a laugh from Sam and Harry.

Tom shook his head. "You got to act confident. Girl's love confidence. Go in and just shoot your shot. Girls love coffee; just ask her out after a tutoring session."

Paddy let out a heavy breath and chewed on his lower lip glancing over at his older brother.

Tom has never seen his youngest brother so nervous over a girl before. He heard of Paddy's crushes on a phone call but he never been able to provide much brotherly-advise to his youngest brother. Tom was anxious for Paddy but he wanted to help him like any big brother would.

"Dinner's ready!" Dominic's voice announced from the kitchen.

Harry and Sam shot up from their seats and raced to the kitchen. Paddy rose to follow but Tom stopped him by the shoulder. "Paddy, you're a Holland. The girls love us. Just treat her right and buy her flowers. She will realize how great you are."

Paddy smiled genuinely thankful for Tom's advice. And for the following three months, Paddy did exactly that.

He started off by buying her a single flower on her birthday, a cup of coffee every tutoring session, and complimented her casually. Paddy would frequently update Tom on his attempts but every action seemed to result in a dead end.

Tom questioned his mom about how he found this girl to discover that Nikki knew the girl's mom from some mutual friends wedding from years ago. The two mothers exchanged numbers and became apart of a book club together. The family is from America but the daughter does exchange programs abroad. Nikki heard the daughter was looking for a job for rent and was also a Dean's List student. When Nikki saw Paddy's grades slipping, she saw the perfect answer for both problems.

Two birds, one stone.

But after the three months and Tom went back to LA, the phone calls with Paddy were still frequent but lacked any conversation between him and his tutor. Instead, Paddy began gushing over a co-star that he developed a fat crush for.

Soon within time, Tom found himself back in London lounging at his parents house with a beer in his hands yet again. He was outside helping Dominic grill some beef patty's and catching up about his newest book with the sun beaming overhead.

The gorgeous spring day made it a perfect grilling day. Harry, Sam, and Patty were kicking a football around on the grass, making a game of piggy-in-the-middle with Tessa lunging after the ball. Tom had a loose navy-shirt and dark jeans on with sunny's hiding his eyes from the harsh rays.

There was something about being home that always made Tom relax. Here, he wasn't worried about the paparazzi or saying the wrong thing. Here, he was just Thomas Holland: eldest brother, football genius, and inspiring/failing chef. Not Tom Holland: Movie star, heartthrob, and superhero.

Dammit. He loved being home.

"The potatoes are in the oven. How much longer for the patty's?" Nikki stepped out of the house brushing her hands on her apron.

"About ten more minutes." Dominic stated flipping a patty over.

Nikki hummed and glanced over at her other son's, a smile tugged at her lips watching them. The doorbell rang and her smile widened, placing a hand excitedly on Tom's arm. "She's here!" She sang rushing back in the house to answer the door.

Tom's eyes narrowed after his mother's departing figure. "Whose here? I didn't know we were having a guest over." Tom asked his dad who was checking the patty's for the hundredth time.

"Do you remember Paddy's tutor?" Dominic asked and Tom frowned deepened. "Well, in the past few months she has been coming over more for dinners while you have been in LA. Your mother says its because she has become the closest thing she has to a daughter, but I think it's because she is trying to set her up with Harry." He laughed shaking his head.

"Harry? I thought Paddy had a crush on her." Tom asked silently, hearing his mother's voice inside welcoming their guest.

Dominic shook his head. "That boy forgot about her a while ago. I think he likes a costar now but he doesn't tell me anything." He shrugged and Tom nodded slowly.

The backdoor slid open and Nikki stepped out. "Paddy! Look whose here!" She announced stepping aside.

Paddy glanced over and a wide smile appeared as the girl stepped out into the backyard. Her hair was neatly curled that covered her shoulders and her eyes squinted from the wide smile of seeing her favourite tutoree. Loose jeans hugged her waist perfectly and a white t-shirt body suit was accessorized by a few necklaces.

She obviously did not see Dominic or Tom because the barbecue was hidden in the corner of the deck, or from the fact that she jogged over to the three boys in the lawn immediately not acknowledging them at all.

She engulfed Paddy in a hug before moving along to Harry and Sam. The boys all smiled seeing her and welcomed her warmly, hinting of how often she has visited the house.

"I can't forget my favourite Holland." She knelt to the ground as Tessa ran up to her and she giggled as she found Tessa's favourite spot.

"Oi, you want to join?" Harry quipped tossing the ball in the air and catching it with ease.

She looked up and nodded with a smile, rising to her feet. "What are we playing?"

"Football. But you can't let Tessa get it." Sam explained.

"Your English slang never fails to confuse me." She huffs and earns a laugh from the three Holland boys.

"Tom, you want to join?" Paddy shouted over to his eldest brother.

Tom didn't realize that he was staring or that Dominic was finishing up the patty's on his own and talking to Nikki. It was so bluntly obvious of who he was staring at but when he heard Paddy had a tutor months ago, he never thought she would be so . . .

"Tom?" Harry laughed and Tom blinked out of the trance. "You gonna introduce yourself or just going to be awkward?"

The four were staring at him all chuckling and Tom felt his ears go red. He gave a tight lipped smile and a glare to Harry before heading down the steps and into the backyard.

Tom cleared his throat. "Hey, I'm Paddy's eldest brother, Tom. Nice to meet you." He switched his beer into his other hand and extended his hand with a soft smile.

The corner of her lip raised. "I'm Paddy's tutor, Y/N. It's nice to meet you too but I already know who you are." She admitted bashfully.

Tom's smile faltered and his hand dropped to his side. "Oh, uh, thanks." He licked his lips and glanced at his smirking brothers. "What movie did you see me in?" He asked Y/N.

"Your family movies." She chuckled and his face paled, all awkwardness fading into fear. "Harry and Sam loved showing me a bunch of your old movies a few weeks ago. I have to say, you are a great actor." She grinned.

Back when Tom was a kid, Harry would direct movies and Tom would act in them. He would be a superhero, prince, police officer, and a criminal. Looking back, they were extremely cringy and horrible. But they make for a good laugh and endless teasing on Tom.

Knowing that Y/N saw them before meeting him was not ideal. So much for making a good first impression.

"I thought I burnt those." Tom grumbled glaring at his twin brothers hiding their laughs in their palms.

Y/N smiled. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me but I'd be careful; Harry might sell it to LA before you know it."

"Oi, I'm cutting you out of the profit." Harry teased and Y/N laughed along with the boys.

"So, we playing?" Paddy asked glancing around. "Cause I want Tom on my team."

"I didn't know there was teams." Y/N admitted.

"Now there is and Tom is on mine." Paddy shrugged, making Harry roll his eyes and Sam chuckle.

"In a minute, Pads." Tom nodded. "I need another beer. Y/N, did you want anything?"

"Sure, I'll come in with you." She smiled and followed Tom inside.

The three brothers watched them disappear inside talking between another and Y/N giggle at something Tom said, that caused a blush to rush to his cheeks. Sam nudged Harry's arm with a smirk, "Look's like mom will ease about setting you two up and it looks like our eldest brother has a crush."

"Please tell me we're going to embarrass and tease him about this." Harry glanced at Paddy who was smirking widely with vengence.

"There is no way I wasn't." Paddy crossed his arms. "I think mom still has all of our old baby photos in her office."

"Maybe we should give him a break. I mean, Tom is only here once a month." Sam voice wavered with hesitance.

Harry nodded and slapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Exactly, Tom has lacked our brotherly annoyance for so long. We are just reminding him of how much we love him. I'll go get the albums, Paddy go see if he still has his childhood teddy bear Mr. Cuddles."

Paddy rushed inside with a wicked grin and sam shook his head, crossed his arms over his chest. "I still think this is a bad idea."

"You worry too much." Harry smirked holding the ball in his arms making Tessa whine for holding it to himself. "You think I didn't show Clark all your embarrassing photos? Come brother. Let's go embarrass Tom out of the curtesy of our hearts."

Sam exhaled and shook his head. "You truly are the evil one."

#tom holland x reader #tom holland

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funarisjournal · 2 months ago

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Nari's Tsukutabe Superlatives! (Part 1)

Drama Superlatives | Shared Superlatives

This year has pretty much been almost nothing but "She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat" for me, huh? So many experiences, so much fun~

So, I decided to do a twist on these year-end "superlative" posts by strictly focusing on just Tsukutabe and my year with it! We're skipping some of the more obvious ones (Best Couple is CLEARLY Nomoto/Kasuga lmao) and trying to do some stuff that has a shot at being unique.

And, because of the way this sort of thing works, it's probably going to not happen again next year...unless we get some sort of super update with both the comic and the drama (or maybe another adaptation! Who knows!). I'll just archive these as new articles for my Tsukutabe Masterpost~

Anyway, let's dive right in! Part 1 will be focusing on the comic specifically.

The text underneath says their holidays both happened to start on the 28th, in case you were curious lol

BEST PANEL (TIE)

This is probably going to surprise folks, but I am a fan of "The Little Things." And, this is true with the winners as well. While I do love the pages that get shared a lot online - like Nomoto learning about asexuality from Yako, or Nomoto's early monologue about her being annoyed that her love for cooking always gets framed into traditional things - it's stuff like this that I truly enjoy.

In the first one, they're just standing out on Kasuga's balcony, watching the sun finish rising on this new year's day. A quiet moment shared with one another. The other - while trying not to spoil - is just a really sweet moment of Nomoto and Kasuga just, well, having a moment together. They're happy, they have each other. All is well in the world~

FAVORITE CHAPTER

Can I say Chapter 40 even though it's still a month until we get the English version of Volume 5? No? Still spoilers? Bah.

Well, besides that...Chapter 16 stands out to me a lot. Poor Nomoto...but then a realization and a new path forward. God, I love it

MOST RETURNED-TO VOLUME

There's just a lot going on in this one that I always end up just picking it back up for reference or for re-reading in general. It also has some of the most memorable moments that fandom has gushed about! I love the other volumes, of course! But for a category like this, clearly one stands out more than the others...

BEST DIALOGUE

The whole confession scene in the comic, bar none. All of it, including the silly way it ends. I even prefer this version of the confession over the drama's (though it is also really good). It's because it feels really relatable to my personal experience. I go deep into both ladies' POVs in two different essays, actually! (this leads to one but there's a link to the other one on it!)

BEST BONUS COMIC (TIE)

When I really got into my Tsukutabe brainrot, I looked all over for stuff. Still do, to be honest! But some of the easiest things to find are the bonus comics the official Twitter account has shared in the past. There's more than this, but these two are just my top faves.

Summaries: The first one is about Nomoto and Kasuga trying to find new things to wear for their outings. Nomoto is relying on searching online again while Kasuga is just kind of bored of her standards. Through their individual searching/musing, they simultaneously wonder what it would be like to dress up to complement the other's usual style. Then they show up for their outing and whoops! They ended up dressing as opposites but they look amazing!

The second one is about Kasuga wondering if maybe she could help Nomoto start up a VousTube (lol) channel though Nomoto isn't confident enough for it. They practice, and Kasuga is noticing her capturing of Nomoto's cooking just doesn't look quite right, especially since her shot of the chopping is being obscured by Nomoto's hand there. A lot of those channels use overhead shots, right? How do they do it? Kasuga thinks she knows a shortcut and the result is hilarious (then we get a little "no no" message from Yuzaki-sensei telling folks to not try what Kasuga did at home. Tis dangerous. Kasuga turns her phone off in response and Nomoto gets a chance to recoup from the moment of closeness).

FAVORITE DISH (Comic-Only)

It's spoilers, so I won't show it, but I really gotta give it to Kasuga's bento for Nomoto from Chapter 46. THE BEST!! [Though whenever S3 happens, this may have to change if they adapt the scene since I said this is "comic-only" dishes lol]

Because of the nature of my top pick, I'll share the runner up as well: The banana cake Nomoto makes to distract herself from her budding physical attraction toward Kasuga get her mind refocused lol

FAVORITE BIT OF TRIVIA (Comicverse)

The fact that this random, one-off lady from Chapter 16 is basically the inspiration for Sayama's appearance in S1 of the drama. Ever noticed that? Well, now you have!

FAVORITE (postable) ILLUSTRATION

I say "postable" as there are some pics I have in my files from Sensei's IG account, but they say to not repost or edit, so I'm being honorable with that (you CAN find them on her IG, though. They're still there)

So what CAN I post? This one, for sure!

A special illustration we were all treated to when Chapter 50 hit. It actually focuses on Yako and Nagumo, but I guess Sensei wanted to commemorate the milestone chapter with SOMETHING containing Nomoto and Kasuga so we got this shot of sweet, adorable domestic-ness. The pertinent text you need to know is the yellow text next to Kasuga: "Feeling our way around one another as we live together as a couple."

FAVORITE FAN ART THAT I MADE (Comicverse)

Hey, can't have these superlatives without hyping my own contributions that I made this year! This one's my personal fave, back when I did some local leaf peeping on a day off. I took the photo myself and then added Nomoto and Kasuga to the picture...it turned out really good! I think they ended up blending in perfectly!

BEST DUMB MEME I MADE (Comicverse)

Like with my regular art, I love all my memes...but this one tops them all. lol

[Tune in next time for Drama Superlatives!]

#tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna #she loves to cook and she loves to eat #tsukutabe #essays #sort of #2024 'Nari's Year of Tsukutabe' Superlatives

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maeiso-trash · 7 months ago

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just this once

Isogai is sick. Maehara takes care of him. Simply, a maeiso sickfic.

word count: 1,508

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

When Maehara stepped into Isogai's room, he expected Isogai to be sleeping or taking it easy, not doing his stupid homework while bedridden due to a cold. Maehara furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, blinking slowly at Isogai hastily scribbling answers onto scattered worksheets. Papers and tissues were strewn all over, unusually disorganized. Maehara walked to Isogai’s desk to place the bowl of congee he brought over, eyes still fixed on Isogai, who was way too immersed in his studies to pay attention to anything else. Maehara knocked his knuckles against the chipping wood, watching in defeat as Isogai didn’t even bother to look up.

Unable to think of another option, Maehara walked over and swiftly yanked the pencil out of Isogai's grip, flinging it backwards where it landed with a clank.

"Oookay, we're done with work now."

Startled, Isogai blinked around. "Huh- oh, sorry Hiroto. I didn't realize you were here."

Maehara sighed. "Shouldn't you be taking it easy when you're sick? Not doing-" he gestured to the mess upon the bed, grimacing all the while, "-whatever this is."

Isogai followed Maehara's gaze, and only just realized the abundance of notebooks and assignments strewn about his bed. He chuckled sheepishly, straining a guilty smile. "I guess you're right."

"I am right." Maehara pilfered a paper from the pile, squinting at it as if it were an ancient text. Erased pencil marks peeked out from the darkened scribbles, words unintelligible, smudged into each other. "I can't even read this.”

“I might’ve fallen asleep a few times,” Isogai admitted, cleaning up the papers, stacking them between his hands.

"Dude, you've overworked yourself to exhaustion, again." Maehara observed, averting his gaze to the wilted antenna and evident clouds of gray under drowsy eyes. Isogai’s movements were slow and sluggish, picking up each paper as if they were made of stone. With another sigh, Maehara snatched the papers from Isogai’s hands and placed them on the desk. “It’s the second time this month, which is honestly two times too many. Don’t you think you’re working too hard?”

It was said with no ill intent, just a tone all too caring that Isogai didn't know how to reply. Perhaps he was carrying too much, but he can't possibly lessen his burdens and give them to someone else in fear of being selfish, which he was anything but. After all, if not him, who else would take care of his mother and younger siblings? He couldn't let them suffer too. His gaze shifted elsewhere, his hands fidgety and restless without a purpose.

Isogai was always willing to lend others all he could, bearing ever-piling burdens onto the calloused palms of his hands. Always swimming against life’s turbulent currents, urging himself forward until his energy’s spent. Resilient and reliable until the bitter end. Always reassuring that everything will be okay, despite knowing that half-hearted promise was not always a guarantee. Even so, he has to try. He alone must be the captain willing to die on a sinking ship, selfless to a fault. "It's fine." Isogai isn't quite sure who he's trying to fool with an obvious lie like that.

Maehara frowned at Isogai's stubbornness, resting his fingers on his forehead and scowled at the abnormally high temperature. "I can cook an egg on your forehead. It is not fine."

Isogai swatted Maehara's hand away, distancing himself to avoid contamination, and perhaps confrontation.

Unfortunately for him, Maehara is also stubborn in his own way.

"You can hide all you want from everyone else. But you can't hide from me, Yuuma." Maehara's voice echoed in the silent room, as inviting and warm as the awakening sunrise, trickling through fluttering curtains like rivers of honey.

Yuuma knows he can confide in Hiroto, he'd done so all his life. And never once has Maehara judged him outright, always holding him close with an understanding smile, a comforting exchange that manages to lift Isogai's spirits before he falls too deep into the cold, bleak abyss. He relaxed his shoulders, not realizing they were tense to begin with.

Isogai turned to face Maehara's general direction, gulping down his uncertainty, tired eyes still fixated elsewhere, shadowed by his disheveled hair. "Then, what do I do? I can't just do nothing-”

“And I’m not saying you should.” Maehara reassured, caressing Isogai’s cheek with the palm of his hand. “I can’t stop you from looking after your family who needs you most, but I can’t stand that at the same time, you also forget to look after yourself. I care about you, y’know? We all do. So please, let us be your shoulder to cry on, to love and care for you like you do for all of us."

Isogai leaned against Maehara's palm, melting into the warmth of his touch. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good." Maehara's eyes lit up as he suddenly remembered his original purpose for visiting. "Oh right! I came over to give you congee. I made it myself.”

"You made congee?" Isogai repeated, mock wariness laced in his tone. "As in, you put all the ingredients in a pot and didn’t stick something store-bought in the microwave?"

“Yes?" Maehara raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t need food poisoning too, Hiroto," Yuuma teased, grinning despite his condition.

Maehara theatrically slapped a hand over his heart, feigning offense. "How dare you accuse me of such a heinous act. Have more faith in me! How am I even going to mess up something as simple as rice porridge, huh?"

"Who knows. You always find a way to surprise me with your cooking abilities. You burnt a salad once."

"Once."

"It was a salad."

"Well congee isn't a salad."

Isogai laughed softly, lips curling into a gentle smile. "I'll try it."

Maehara practically shoved the bowl in Isogai's hands. "You better."

Isogai stared at the bowl of congee in his hands, the aroma unmistakably a homemade remedy. It had cooled down considerably in the time they talked, allowing Isogai to take in spoonful after spoonful without worry of a burnt tongue.

He let the taste melt in his mouth, admiring the effort Maehara made.

"How is it?" Maehara asked anxiously, leaning forward in anticipation.

"It doesn’t taste radioactive, I’ll give you that." Isogai chuckled at Maehara's offense, each burst of laughter blossomed with affection and gratitude. "It's lovely, really. Thank you."

His smile effectively silenced Maehara, warm enough to rival the sun. Slowly, he drained the bowl of congee with steady gulps, spoonful after spoonful. And gradually, he felt just a little bit better.

Once Isogai was done, Maehara placed the bowl back on the desk.

"You really didn't have to do all this. I can take care of myself."

Maehara looked at him with doubt, eyebrows knitted together with a slight frown. "I'm sure you can., but I also know you don't. You're so hard-working but sometimes you work a bit too much, and I understand that you have to in order to support your family and all, but you tend to forget about yourself." Maehara intertwined their fingers together, tracing circular patterns on the back of Isogai's hand, feeling over every tendon and bone. "You always overwork yourself for the sake of others. You sacrifice so much until there's nothing left to give." Maehara gently pressed his lips to Isogai's knuckles, grazing the skin along the joints, glancing up at him with a look akin to a sad puppy.

For he knows Isogai Yuuma better than anyone else, and he knows that until his heart withers into ash and dust, Yuuma will always give but never receive. As tired and envious and frustrated he may be, for these feelings are only natural, Yuuma would always put others, his family especially, before himself. Always rushing against the tide to save those who can't save themselves. Always too caught up in his responsibilities to remember what being a kid felt like, despite being one himself. "Don't you realize you can rest too sometimes?"

Isogai noticed a determined fire in Maehara’s eyes which flickered away as quickly as it came, and smiled warmly in surrender. "Okay, okay, I get it. You can let go of my hand now."

"Ah, sorry." Maehara loosened his grip and glanced back at Isogai, not missing the way he tried to stifle a yawn, sleepiness tugging at his eyelids. "I should let you sleep now. And actually rest, okay? No more working until you're better.” Then he turned to leave, but before Maehara could even stand, Isogai gently held onto his wrist.

“Wait-"

Maehara looked back, worried. “What is it?”

“If you don’t mind, could you stay a little longer? Until I fall asleep?” Isogai asked, hesitant.

Maehara couldn’t find it in his heart to say no. “Of course.”

Isogai slipped under the covers, burying himself under the blankets. Drowsiness pulled at his eyes while Maehara weaved his fingers through his hair, making sure Isogai drifted to sleep before retracting his hand. Hiroto gave Yuuma a chaste kiss on the forehead, wishing him sweet dreams and a quick recovery.

#assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #hiroto maehara #maehara hiroto #yuuma isogai #isogai yuuma #maeiso #my writing #lol I actually started this thing -uhm- 2 years ago. . .#read it over recently and edited it and I think it's kinda cute so I'm posting it :3

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zorilleerrant · 4 months ago

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For Sale

@flashfictionfridayofficial

There’s something familiar about the house, even though there shouldn’t be. None of us have even studied this era in depth, as far as I know – the angel and demon might have, but they don’t seem to have followed us here. They might not be allowed to. I’ve never been to this city. If anyone else has, they haven’t said. All the same, it’s on the tip of my tongue, and looking around isn’t resolving the déjà vu even slightly.

The vision comes to me the way they all have, so far, vertigo and irritation. The smell of decay – the gentler, earthy kind – and settled dust. Broken stairs and faded paint and no electricity. No running water, but a drip always just the next room over nonetheless. A tablecloth, picnicware to brighten up the place, and everyone – almost everyone – laughing. Sharing a meal together.

I blink and the house goes back to normal, or as normal as a house like this can be when it’s not a museum. It smells like latex paint and some sort of chemical cleaner. They’ve given up on it, from the state of the yard and the sign in it, but everything still looks bright and neat and new. No furniture. I guess that comes later, if at all.

The stairs are in good repair, and somehow look less stately for it. The lights flicker on. I walk upstairs to see if there’s anything else we should look out for, animals or problems or clues, but it’s just more of the same. Empty rooms in different colors and the stifling smell of historical paint trapped inside.

It’s not a good time to be selling homes, anyway. Especially not here. Least popular mayor in history, some say, but I still think that was mostly the asteroid.

I mean, I’m not looking forward to the witch trials. But they wouldn’t have happened if no one was.

When I get back downstairs, there’s soup on the stove. We’re going to have to find real furniture somewhere, but someone’s found folding chairs and a rickety table in one of the closets, and that’s close enough for dinner.

I glance at the stove, and the soup changes. Shit. I can’t tell which version is real. I guess I’ll know when I taste it.

The Major’s set up all our sleeping bags in the living room, and I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear it. The rooms upstairs all give me the creeps. It’s something about the shape of the windows, I think, or the sound of the ventilation, like the special lights they install that play sound effects in the reproductions. I don’t think anyone did anything special here. I think they’re just like that.

Probably I should be relieved she had sleeping bags for all of us, but I guess the military’s nothing if not prepared. Probably I should be relieved one of us is a nervous cook. Probably I should be relieved most of us are adults, and the kids are old enough to pass for one, with enough confidence.

Probably I should be relieved there are so many homes standing empty on this side of town, but that just makes me depressed again. I think my family came from here, way back when. I think if I went to talk to them they’d let me see the lost codices, they’d let me touch the amulets and stir the family recipes. The ones that stayed, anyway. I don’t know why they stayed when they could see what’s coming. I don’t want to.

None of us want to. Someone’s literally started taping photos to the walls.

I think the terms of the prophecy trap us here, but I’m not an expert, and I’m willing to look for one, if anybody knows safe channels for it. Maybe there’s just someone we have to meet, or something we have to get, or something we have to know, or witness, or learn. Maybe we can go back home before, well, before the asteroid, at least, if not earlier.

The windows are so thick, and not quite clear, and yet the cold radiates off of them, like they’re no protection from the wind outside. I can hear it pick up through the trees. Everyone else huddles closer to the inside of the house, away from the walls, towards the dubious warmth of the kitchen. How did people heat their houses? Naked fires, indoors?

A dog yips behind me, and I almost catch a glimpse as I turn, but it fades too fast for me to even catch whose dog it was. Will be. Probably the hacker’s again, like I promised. Too much to hope we got slung back in time just to meet a familiar.

I feel like we should have had a historian on the team. I feel like this was large enough we should have one. What are we doing if none of us know shit about history and all of us are trying to remember lessons from grade school about things most of us had no reason to care about and I, at least, already knew were wrong anyway? I don’t even know where to get food once we get through whatever’s stocked in the cupboards.

Are we going to have to hunt it ourselves?

#look I said something #my writing #original fiction #zorille's sdatt #this one's definitely going in the final draft when I get there. I think this is near the beginning but not right at the start of The Quest #the house is important but it's only important because it was important already

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boilingheart · 1 year ago

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Kitchen Territory

Pre-Relationship Gale x Male Tav (Lucius Skorn) Takes place in early Act 1. Lucius Skorn is a middle-aged high elf Ilmatari cleric with a heavy background: an ex-criminal who led a gang known as the Lockjaws before he was betrayed. He spent the past 120+ years as a slave in the Underdark and in prison afterwards, and emerged two years ago as a reformed man with new faith in Ilmater, the Crying God. As a result, he's effectively a cornered animal at all times, unable to trust anyone, because he knows he himself cannot be trusted. Lucius slowly crushes on Gale, and over time, their relationship builds. This is the beginning of Gale getting a little closer to this problematic cleric. Rated T Read on AO3

“Out of my kitchen, wizard.”

The “kitchen” in question is a broken wheelbarrow filled with the various somewhat fresh vegetables the group managed to find around the forest, a couple of pots Lucius found along the way and delicately cleaned and cured, slabs of stone flat enough to be used as counters dragged out around the bonfire, and a frayed scavenged chopping board with the beef tri tip Lucius had a knife to.

It’s the most food the party’s had in a few days, and enough ingredients that Lucius could make a half decent meal for everyone to have. He’s been excited the entire day to get to prepping. There aren’t enough seasonings to make everything the way it should taste, but it’s better than nothing. It’s better than fish heads and apples.

Gale of Waterdeep, however, does not listen to his order, and still saunters in by the wheelbarrow, rolling up his sleeves. “Ah, don’t worry, my friend. I may be a bumbling wizard out on the road and in the wilderness, but cooking is one of my more proficient elements!” He lifts a finger with an amendment and a wink. “Not counting my wizardly studies and prowess, that is.”

Lucius stares at him. His expression seems earnest and confident, and he already waltzes around him as if he knows exactly what he’s going to do. Lucius abandons the tri tip to point his knife at Gale — not necessarily threateningly, and certainly far enough that he can’t reasonably stab him without chasing him — and stops him in his tracks.

“I certainly don’t doubt it, Gale of Waterdeep,” Lucius says with a smile, watching a sheepish look take over the wizard’s face and his hands raise in surrender. “But I’ve already claimed dinner for tonight. I’ve got it, thank you.”

“Oh, come on, what good is cooking without fair company?”

“Mm, peace and quiet. And knowing exactly where all of my ingredients are going.”

Gale dips his head with quiet acceptance. “Then I will follow all your instructions and keep my lips sealed unless absolutely necessary.”

Lucius levels him with a dead look, and when that expression of his does nothing to move Gale, he takes a step forward with the blade in hand. Gale thankfully gets the message then, and begins backing up with his hands raised again.

“Very well! I’ll be over here then!” He scrambles, waving at him with a cheerful tone. “Back at my tent. I will disturb you no more!”

Lucius can’t help but smirk to himself, shaking his head and returning to the food. Genuine or not, he’s not about to let any of these strangers bother him here.

But by the next night, Gale is back again, sleeves rolled up, and an easy smile on his face.

“Lucius!” Gale calls as the cleric chops several carrots and moves them into a bowl. “Why, I couldn’t help but notice the pork shoulder we acquired this afternoon. You know, I know a couple of good —”

“Out, wizard.”

Gale’s expression falters for a moment, and Lucius does his best not to look at him more than he has to. He doesn’t stop chopping, but still tenses as he feels Gale walk around him.

“Ah, come on now,” Gale says with a teasing tone to his voice. “I can already see what you’re planning. A pork stew can take a bit to prepare, but believe it or not, I am quite handy with a knife.”

“What a coincidence! So am I!”

“You jest, Lucius, but I am nothing but wholly serious. Stews are actually my specialty — Here, allow me, please. Me and a simple spectral hand spell can help chop all the potatoes and carrots in double time while you start preparing the meat itself. We can cut this process time in half when you’ve got more than one set of hands in the kitchen.” He leans in, hoping to catch Lucius’ gaze. “What do you say?”

Lucius halts the knife, letting the chopped piece of carrot spin and roll into its pile on the chopping board. As he lifts his blank gaze up to Gale, he can see the wizard’s smile wilt by just a fraction. Somewhere inside, Lucius feels a pinch of guilt. He’s not wrong, it would certainly speed up the process, and Gale doesn’t fit the profile of a man who would do harm to their food, but…

“I bet you got away with all sorts of trouble with that smile of yours growing up,” Lucius says, resuming his prep.

Gale’s eyes crinkle with warmth. “Hmm, maybe just a little. Though, only so much a pleading smile can excuse the misbehavior of a small child with a fireball spell.”

“And only so much it can do with a cleric who already knows what he’s doing,” Lucius replies, cocking his head to the side with a scrunched, condescending smile. “Out, wizard.”

“So be it!” Gale bows deeply, backing away. “I will not disturb you further. But if you do change your mind, I’ll be in my tent with one of the books we’ve recovered, ready to help at a moment’s notice.”

He watches him walk away, his gaze lingering on him as he returns to his tent and chats with Wyll beside him. For a moment, Lucius does hesitate, looking back at everything he has to do. Help would be nice.

But he remembers the danger everyone in the camp presents to each other. A githyanki warrior ready to slit their throats at any sign of transformation, a Sharran worshipper, a vampire spawn, a warlock and two walking bombs — and he sobers up. He doesn’t know anyone well enough. It’s not worth the risk.

He doesn’t call on Gale, and the stew finishes two hours later.

The next night, Lucius finds the kitchen already taken.

He had to leave Gale at camp for the time being — Shadowheart, Astarion and Lae’zel accompanied him for the day to deal with stray goblins along the road. He should have anticipated that returning that evening would result in Gale pulling the rug out from under him.

Lucius circles around the bonfire kitchen with his inventory slung over his shoulder, watching the man. He’s cozy in his purple little outfit, sleeves rolled up and humming an old bard song. His hands are busy, delicately cutting strips of beef while two sets of spectral hands work on chopping the peppers they’d found recently. He has a smaller campfire on the side where a lidded pot sits in it, undoubtedly cooking something.

Gale turns to put something away and catches sight of Lucius, beaming brightly at him, and Lucius swears he can see the mischief in his eyes. “Ah, Lucius! You’re finally back! Adventure went well, I hope?”

His voice ends up sounding more tired than he expects when he responds. “What are you doing, Gale.”

“Ah, I noticed we had enough to make a stir fry,” Gale says, pointing an index finger in the air as he speaks. The spectral hands wave at Lucius before returning to their work. “Beef, peppers, some of the broccoli Wyll found — needed to cook it soon, else it goes bad under our noses — oh! And I’m making some bread over here on the side! Freshly baked bread. Though I’d definitely prefer to bake some goods in an oven, it’s not impossible to do over a fire so long as the temperature stays — where are you going?”

Lucius stalks over to his tent, tossing his satchel onto the ground outside of it. Deep inside, he knows it’s not a big deal. This is normal and this is fine. There is nothing wrong with Gale taking over to feed the camp. Lucius has gotten good at finding more food to cook meals, so the loss of ingredients he had planned out can be amended. It’s fine, he knows it’s fine.

The anger broiling in his chest and burning hot in his throat and quaking his hands, does not.

“I’m going to bed,” Lucius snaps, taking off his gloves and tossing them. “Have fun, Gale.”

“Oh, come now, Lucius!” Gale calls out, sounding more hurt than teasing this time. “If you wash up, you’re welcome to join me!”

Lucius steps inside his tent and clips the flaps shut, dropping himself onto his bedroll. He’s hungry. There’s nothing he wants more than to eat something warm right now, but he doesn’t know what Gale’s doing. He doesn’t know the process he started. He’s been at it for who knows how long, completely out of Lucius’ sight. He could do anything.

Fine. Let him have his fun. Lucius will slip into reverie and find himself something else to eat later once he wakes. He turns onto his side, back facing the entrance of his tent, and slips his eyes shut, ignoring the aches in his fingers as he keeps his hands clenched into fists.

Later, he wakes to Gale’s gentle voice outside his tent, calling for him. He had a plate of the stir fry and a slice of bread served for him, and a look in his eyes that made something twist in the cleric’s chest.

“There’s leftovers if you’re still hungry,” Gale offers, holding the plate out to him.

Lucius stares at it. Finely cooked, still hot, the scent filling his tent quickly of beef and peppers. His mouth waters.

But his principles still stand firm.

“I’m not hungry.”

Gale blinks. “You’re always hungry! I know how much protein means to you, Lucius, and you were out all day. Come on now —”

“Thank you, Gale,” Lucius interrupts, finality in his voice. “Maybe I’ll have some later. I’m going back to sleep.”

Gale doesn’t say anything, for once at a complete loss of words. There’s that look in his face, those brows raised high and clear hurt in his features as if Lucius had just kicked a puppy. He doesn’t wait for Gale to walk away before closing the flaps shut and rolling back to his bedroll. He sees Gale’s shadow still linger before his tent for a moment longer before finally taking his leave.

Lucius’ stomach growls. He ignores the stinging in his eyes and wills himself to go back to sleep.

The next day, Gale insists on going on the road with Lucius. So much so that he practically has no choice but to let him, what with how Wyll and Karlach were starting to look at him. Cursed to be guilt tripped into letting the wizard tag along, but so be it.

The day was dedicated more to exploration. A few magical items, materials salvaged, trading with others — and an unfortunate run-in with some gnolls. Though they did come out worse for wear after that encounter, at least they managed to find an abandoned merchant’s wagon filled with produce. It’s then that Lucius realizes the entirety of Gale’s ulterior motives.

That night, Lucius washes up and takes to the kitchen quickly, unloading their haul and logging each new item into his dedicated inventory journal as swiftly as possible. He shouldn’t have to feel like he has to race for claim over the kitchen, but he needs to make it clear that this is his domain. The inventory logs, the food, the supplies, gold, magical items, potions and herbs, etcetera etcetera — so long as Lucius is at the helm of this camp, he is in charge of what goes where.

He’s thinking of beef stew tonight. Stews are perfect for leftovers, they’re hearty and warm, and they smell nice. It’s also most of what they can make with the ingredients they manage to find beyond rations and breads and miscellaneous fruit.

He anticipates Gale’s arrival to the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up and an air of sheer audacity surrounding him.

Gale doesn’t even manage to say anything before Lucius speaks. “Out, wizard.”

“Another slow cooked meal for tonight?”

“Out.”

“You know, I actually have a bit of an idea for a stew. Last night my bread seemed to be quite the hit around the camp. Even Lae’zel looked to enjoy it. She had seconds.”

“That’s nice. Get out.”

“It’s best fresh, you know.”

“I know how to make bread.”

“I’m not questioning any of your capabilities, my friend. I enjoy your cooking,” Gale says, slowly making his way to Lucius’ side cautiously, as if trying to gain the trust of a feral animal. “Quite a lot, actually. Having a home cooked meal in the middle of a hellish, unfortunate situation has made a lot of troubles feel easier. Even a little homesick.”

Lucius peels a handful of carrots, letting the shavings fall into a battered woven basket for trash. “Mm. Well… I am happy to hear that. Cooking is probably one of the better skills my father had half a mind to teach me, and I do enjoy it.”

“Ah, I feel the same. My mother taught me to cook. She’s all sorts of recipes that I now carry up my sleeves, though sometimes, I still struggle to get some to taste the way she makes them. A fine hobby I enjoy, outside of reading of course.”

“You’re cozying up to me,” Lucius points out, elbowing Gale away. “Don’t try your charms. I said out.”

But Gale doesn’t move this time. Instead, he folds his arms and stands up straight, lifting his chin in overconfident defiance. “No.”

Lucius pauses, turning his head now to look at him. “No?”

“Nope.”

“Gale, get out.”

“I will not.”

Lucius sets the carrot down with an exhausted sigh, facing him completely. “Har har. You know, not the smartest idea to annoy someone holding a knife.”

“I’ve many reasons to believe that you are not so inclined to use that knife on me, Ilmatari.” Gale says easily, unwavering.

“You don’t know me. You barely know me.”

“Then it’s a gamble I’m more than willing to wager on.”

Lucius scoffs, unable to help the amused smile on his face. “Confident now, are we? What makes you so certain I wouldn’t?”

“Well for one, you’d contaminate your kitchen.”

Lucius tilts his head, conceding on that. “True.”

“Secondly, you benefit from having a wizard in your party.”

“I have scrolls. I don’t need a wizard, I’ve got a bunch of them in my pocket.”

“Ah, but I didn’t say need, I did say benefit, of which, you cannot argue against,” Gale says, pointing a finger at him as he speaks. “You may not need a wizard, per se, but my skills do undoubtedly serve you well in a pinch.”

“Alright, fine. You do make yourself useful when you feel like it.”

“Thirdly, ten years bad luck for killing a wizard.”

“You just made that up.”

“Is that a chance you want to take?”

“Don’t tempt me, ten years is nothing for an elf.”

“Ooh, but the time passes all the same. Blink of the eye in the grand scheme of things, but in the moment, a year is still a year.” Gale smiles politely at Lucius, inclining his head. “Need I go on?”

“Sure,” Lucius takes to leaning his weight on his hand against the stone counter. “Can’t say I’m thoroughly convinced.”

Gale huffs with amusement, and holds up four fingers and pinches his pinky. “Fourthly, you are a cleric of Ilmater. To stab me over coming into the kitchen would go against your religious cores.”

“Hmmm…” Lucius rubs his chin in faux thought. “Maybe… But one could argue that I am alleviating suffering in doing so. My suffering, that is. As I said, you’re bothering me.”

“Oof, you’d twist your principles to justify stabbing one of your campmates?”

“I didn’t twist anything. Ilmatari bear burdens and alleviate suffering. I’m following the dogma.”

“But aren’t you supposed to be the one on the rack? Stabbing me to alleviate yourself, why, I would argue that actually goes against your dogma.”

“Are you arguing with me over my own practice? Who’s the cleric here?”

Gale grins widely at him, cheeky and playful. “And fifth, you would have stabbed me by now.”

Lucius suddenly finds himself laughing at that, shaking his head. “Right, sure, fine. You must think you’re adorable.”

“I’ve said no such thing, but if you find such an adjective fitting, I am not against receiving it as an apt descriptor.”

“Man, shut up,” Lucius laughs, turning back to his chopping board. “I prefer to cook alone, thank you. Please be so kind as to dismiss yourself.”

“Evidently, you also prefer not to eat anyone else’s cooking.”

Well, there it is. “I wasn’t hungry.”

“Say what you will, but I am led to believe your hesitance there is an extension of the same bump in the road we have here.” He holds his hands up, turning them back and forth. “Allow me to ease your conscience. I pride myself in my cleanliness, and I am very delicate in the matters of making food. I wash up frequently, I let nothing cross contaminate, and I always make sure that the ingredients I use aren’t spoiled. I promise you, I’m not a burden within the kitchen to have to watch out for.”

Lucius pauses, staring down at the chopping board. There’s something gnawing in his chest, something akin to guilt, something close to shame. The wizard is not an unkind man; he has been nothing but patient and delightful company, and Lucius would almost daresay that Gale simply wouldn’t do anything to hurt anyone.

But that’s the trap. He was close to someone once. Three hundred years of a bond forged in fire and gallons of blood, and never once did he suspect that he’d turn against him, that he would wake up one day to the promise of fortune, only to be betrayed and dragged into the Underdark in chains —

Lucius braces his hands against the board, shuts his eyes. He has to say something. Gale at least deserves to be acknowledged.

“I appreciate that, sincerely,” Lucius says, exhaling a long breath before returning his full attention to the wizard, now softer than he was before. “But that’s not my problem. I don’t know how exactly to explain my problem to you. I just wish you’d listen to me and leave me alone. I have my roles to fulfill in this camp. Allow me to do them in peace.”

Gale purses his lips, his eyes searching Lucius. It makes him tense suddenly. The wizard is intelligent and sharp, and whatever it is he’s looking for in Lucius, he’s suddenly terrified that he could find it easily.

“You take on a lot of roles, Lucius,” Gale lands on saying, and Lucius feels a touch of relief. “Perhaps it’s because of your Ilmatari teachings, or perhaps for another reason. You put in a lot of work, and the whole camp certainly appreciates it, but… you can’t just keep doing it all by yourself. You have people here! Half a dozen of us are quite the company — sure, you’ve a lot of roles, but I reckon you should delegate some tasks to the rest of us. A waste of a many pair of hands that can get to work.”

Lucius’ face scrunches and his lips flatten in a strained smile. “Okay. Go like, I don’t know, build me a new wheelbarrow or something.”

“Cooking is typically a communal activity, you know,” Gale insists, reaching out to pick up a potato. “Many many cultures center around families gathering to create something delicious. Generations of parents holding onto dear recipes and passing them to their children, holidays of gatherings to all partake in a collaborative feast — and on smaller scales, even the most trite of city workplaces participate in gallant dinner parties or simple potlucks. Breaking bread together is a sure way to strengthen a bond, but cooking?” Gale points the potato at Lucius. “That is where the magic happens.”

When Lucius was young, dinners were silent. In all his short childhood, he could scarcely recall the face of his mother, or if there ever was the whisper of a memory of her to begin with. Always his father before a stovetop, always just him and occasionally, Lucius atop a stool to watch him prepare. There was never speak of aunts or uncles or cousins or anyone else who’d gather and feast — at best, Lucius was dragged off to his father’s meets with a small thieves’ guild and their mead-filled revelry. Chicken and bread, but never much speak of a kitchen; only the tinged smell of liquor and sweat in the bustling crowd where a child should never be.

And sometimes, when Lucius was older, he’d watch the Lockjaws chatter and eat in their mess hall. Safely. A balcony where he’d lean on the railings and simply observe his assassins from above. The leader of a cutthroat gang of criminals who ruled through violence and fear simply asks for trouble to share food among his own men — little did he know that his dearest advisor he did share drinks with would be who he should have feared most.

Now, Lucius can only stare at that stupid potato in Gale’s hand. In the Temple, he keeps to himself with his own meal. In prison, he was lucky to have any space to himself to eat. As a slave, he was lucky to eat at all. Here, with the tadpoles and this group of strangers, he’s lucky to have any control at all.

His gaze flicks to Gale, and when he does, Gale’s eyes crinkle with warmth in a small, reassuring smile. The firelight catches onto the umber color of his eyes with a sparkle, his long lashes framing them delicately, and the crow’s feet deepen with his squint. A powerful, dangerous wizard, this man is. Lucius has witnessed enough of his spells and the expertise and practice from which they lurch from those fingertips. He hunches and carries himself loosely at rest and speaks like an eccentric librarian, but on the field, he sees him straighten up, his expression harden, sees him utter the incantations of destruction and leave nothing in his wake. He’s capable of untold chaos, hiding behind this mask of gentle kindness, and yet…

And yet… Lucius wants to believe him.

“I don’t know you,” Lucius says, upset that his voice doesn’t carry the venom he wants it to. “How am I supposed to know you’re not gonna fuck around with this stuff here? What reason do I have to believe that you won’t try to leverage this?”

Gale’s brows raise at that. “Are you — Are you asking me if I would poison our food?”

“Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but I just…” he taps the pommel of his knife on the chopping board in quick succession, as if doing so would help summon the words to him. “It’s a risk you’re asking me to take, and one I don’t feel very willing to.”

“So in short, you don’t trust me.”

“Well —”

Gale raises a hand. “A protest, if I may.”

Lucius sets his knife down and folds his arms, carefully keeping his expression calm. “Protest.”

“As a disclaimer, I will say, I most absolutely understand why you feel such a way, and in no way do I mean to undermine your worries and fears,” Gale says with a dip of his head. “That said, I don’t believe you’re being very fair with this conception.”

“I’m not being fair?”

“No. You aren’t the only one here who has to worry about what the other is doing, or what danger the other campmates may pose. Already we’ve woken several times to someone trying to hurt or kill each other for one reason or another, and some people here bear the resume of folks very capable of wanton murder.” He tosses the potato into his other hand, rolling it around in his palm idly. “None of us know you, either. So, forgive me if I find it hypocritical that you would deny kitchen access to anyone else, but expect us to trust the food you are giving us when you can’t do the same.”

A flare of anger fires up in Lucius, and he feels the flames lick at his throat. “Okay, you know what, that’s diff—”

“I don’t have any more reason to trust you either, Lucius,” Gale continues. “Nothing more than the fact we all share the same burden of a little wormy tenant cozied up in our skulls, and honestly, isn’t that enough? We’re all already a group of unlikely allies bonded by a shared infection. Why try to make things more tense?”

Lucius tries to find a way to argue. Anything at all to tear down these points that isn’t just him putting his foot down and repeating himself. He wants to argue that he is trustworthy, because what he’s done so far has proven himself already, but it’s a flimsy argument, and deep down he knows he’s capable of bringing ruin to these people as well. He knows what herbs and solutions to make. He knows how to make tasteless poisons strong enough to bring down a peryton in seconds. Over the course of his long life, he’s found all sorts of ways a man can die. He’s not innocent. The party may have his suspicions of him, but in no way could they possibly guess the extent of which his atrocities go.

This conversation makes him itchy. The urge to toss everything onto the floor and shove the wheelbarrow to spill all of the produce everywhere rises. He wants to shove his stupid pots and pans into Gale’s arms and tell him to do whatever he wants and to snap the cutting board in half and forget about the whole thing. He wants to never cook again and let everyone do whatever the fuck it is they want to do if he’s being so unreasonable. Fuck this, fuck it all, fuck this guy and these tadpoles and these stupid, unfulfilling, half-seasoned, battered meals he keeps trying to make. Go have your community, then. Fuck you, fuck you —

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, counting to ten, and exhales slowly. He can feel himself shaking, and he knows if he loses his cool here, he only confirms that no one can trust him, truly. He’ll only further dig himself into an unnecessary pit and burn. Another deep breath. Be cool, Lucius. Be reasonable. Be cool.

“Why do you even want to do this so badly?” Lucius finds himself asking, finally opening his eyes to meet him again.

“Because I like it,” Gale replies easily. “I like cooking. And… Well, it’s not often I get to cook for many people. I’ll admit, I am selfishly motivated. I’ve been alone for the better part of a year in my tower for… various reasons, so I only ever got to cook for myself. Now, in the midst of all of this bloodshed and muck, there’s the chance to do something rather nice and enjoy a hot meal with people of all sorts of walks of life, all sorts of stories and interesting experiences, and… well, how could I possibly pass up an opportunity like that?”

Lucius thinks of the night before. The warm smile on his face, his spectral hands and a bard’s tune in his hums, the smell of the food and the kindness of which he offered it to Lucius despite how he stormed off into his tent… Ah, yes, this gnawing feeling in his chest, it is guilt. A splash of cold water that extinguishes the flames of anger and leaves him freezing.

Gale hands him the potato as though it were an offering. The extension of an olive branch, sans the olive branch, and perhaps the fervent eagerness and reverence Gale exudes would be a little less comical were it not for it being a simple potato.

Lucius accepts it nevertheless, turning it around in his hand. “... I’m not very good company in the kitchen.”

“Then allow me to be so for the both of us.” Gale gestures to the chopping board and gives a small bow, bidding his permission to join. Lucius steps aside, and Gale takes to the neglected carrots. “I wanted to say, you’ll actually go faster if you peel in the direction away from your body than towards it. Less risk of cutting yourself as well.”

Something warm blooms within Lucius. Something that twists, something that dares feel akin to that of fondness. He scoffs at Gale, taking to his new task of peeling the potatoes. “Is that your true ulterior motive? You just want to correct me on how I’ve been doing things wrong?”

“Maybe just a touch,” Gale teases. “But what’s a collaborative experience without sharing tips, tricks and mistakes?”

The night carries on smoothly, and between the two of them and a spectral hand, dinner is expedited. Gale’s ramblings of all sorts of recipes and stories, talks of his mother and the antics he unwittingly put her through, disastrous accidents in his time at the Blackstaff Academy, and the time he’d summoned a tressym that all but adopted him after the fact fills the air, and Lucius finds comfort in hearing him speak. Enough so that Lucius carefully regaled tales of his own travels, of the Dalelands and of Evereska, and by the time all was finished, Lucius felt like he was glowing, riddled with happy energy and a jitter in his fingertips and nerves. Gale had the idea to bake everyone a round piece of bread, hollow it out, and serve the stew in there, which happened to be a delightful hit.

He’s had this meal before. He’s made this stew before. Yet, on this night, it tastes twice as good, and he can’t help but return the smile Gale gives him as they share their meal.

From then on, they shared the kitchen where they could and brainstormed meal ideas as they collected ingredients on the road. From then on, Lucius found comfort in the company.

#bheart writes #Baldur's Gate 3 #gale x tav #tav x gale #Gale Dekarios #Gale of Waterdeep #skornweave #Lucius Skorn #my ocs #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 writing #i'm pretty proud of this one! writing gale is SO fun #i haven't posted writing like this directly to tumblr in a WHILE so i'm like lowkey jittery doing this LOL #but i really like this one so!#i want 2 share it #i have soooo much bg3 fic that has NOT seen the light of day

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 1 year ago

Text

Cook

Two very awkward wizards flirt and have a heart-to-heart. SFW.

Martha Hylfyst watched the Wizard of Waterdeep at the campfire with great interest, the open book she was holding long forgotten. She had not expected Gale to be the one who assumed the role of camp cook but was glad of it because he’s just that good. Just as good as Aunt Luci, and that’s a very high compliment.

“If you don’t go over there and speak to him, then I will make you, darling.” Astarion teased, walking by the front of Martha’s tent. “I’ll tell him you have your pretty little eyes on him—”

She squeaked, slamming the book shut. “No!” The half-elf stood and placed the book on the chair she was sitting on. “I’ll…talk to him.” Right. Talk to him. Like a person talks to another person. Not like how a silly thirty-year-old, who’s been rejected by numerous suitors, talks to a charming, kind, funny, sweet wizard of great renown.

Astarion giggled as he reached his tent. “This is going to be quite the show!”

Fuck.

What would Da say? “Just be yourself.”

Mum? “Be strong and confident. You are a Hylfyst and a de Fontaine---act like it.”

Aunt Luci? “Follow your heart, sweetie. And make sure there’s nothing in your teeth!”

Pushing her shoulders back, she tried to maintain a confident yet relaxed walk to the campfire. “Smells good, Gale.” She said with a small smile, her golden eyes sparkling.

He glanced upwards and grinned. “Thank you, Martha! Please, come and join me.” Gale watched as she sat next to him, her hands folded in her lap. Just like Mum and Aunt Luci taught me. “I found some spicy sausages among our rations. That, combined with flour from the Grove, eggs, and water, to make a rudimentary pasta, and fresh milk and spices to make a sauce…” His smile grew even wider. “Well, it’s a lovely pasta dish I would make if I were at home. Something delicious that soothes the soul.”

“Sounds like how I cook at home too.”

Stirring the sauce gently, he raised an eyebrow. “A lady of House Hylfyst cooking?” He then winked at her. Oh, he’s teasing me. Well, I’ll show you!

She wrinkled her freckled nose and smirked. “My godmother, Countess Luci Wildheart, taught me. I enjoy it, especially cooking for me and my friend Nadia. I think I mentioned her before, right? We live together in a small house in Baldur’s Gate.” Stop. Rambling.

“Yes! She’s a bard if I remember correctly?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I was coming back from one of her gigs when I was…you know…” Oh great now you’ve ruining the mood. Recover! Quickly! Wringing her hands, she felt anxiety bloom in her chest. “Anyways—”

“I’m sorry. Truly.” Gale murmured as he checked to see if the pasta was done cooking. “It must have been so frightening for you, as it was for us all obviously…ah, it’s done! Do you mind giving me a hand?”

Perfect! This will get things back on track. “Of course!”

“I’m going to attempt to strain this as best I can. If you wouldn’t mind minding the sauce and combining it with the pasta, then that would be most helpful.” He set about using a bowl he magic missile’d some holes into earlier to strain the pasta.

Martha smiled to herself. He doesn’t need me to do this. He can easily do it, but he wants me to. And maybe he knows I know this? And is enjoying this little time together as much as I am? And I hope there’s more of this in the future? When he returned with the strained pasta, he never took his eyes off her as she added the sauce and spicy sausage with ease. “Do you approve of your sous chef, Gale?” she whispered, her smile growing wider by the second.

His brown eyes were full of mirth. “I approve of her very much and look forward to hearing her opinion on my made-in-the-frontier pasta.”

After sitting next to each other at dinner (it was so fucking good), Gale asked if they could speak more and took two shortbread biscuits to share. They ended up on a large log by the river. Far enough so the others won’t hear but still not a long walk away in case something happens. “I was wondering if you could share your knowledge on necromancy. I’m most interested…” Upon seeing her expression change to a mixture of shock and fear, he immediately apologized. “Forgive me for my eagerness. It’s simply that I don’t meet too many necromancers in the flesh, as it were. But if it’s not something you wish to discuss, then I would be happy to talk about anything else.”

So he’s interested in that. What on earth made you think he was any different than other power-hungry wizards? Of course he’s not. Martha turned away as she stood, trying desperately to hide the tears forming in her eyes. “You know what, I suddenly feel tired—” He’s just wants what’s in my head, not me. I never should’ve mentioned it, because now everything is ruined.

“Please.”

She froze, still not looking at him.

“If I have offended you in any way, then I most sincerely apologize. I-I will make it up to you, I swear it. I’ll do anything you ask of me. But please, please,” his voice hitched.“Don’t go…unless you truly are tired, then rest.”

Maybe…he’s not like the others. While he wanted more from Mystra, he’s never shown any tendencies towards darker magic. Trust my heart. Trust him. She turned and sat back down, wiping the tears from her golden eyes. “Sorry. Usually when I get asked about necromancy, it’s not for the best of reasons.”

He nodded. Martha thought she saw tears in his eyes. Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh shit. “My dear, that’s very understandable. Gods, Szass Tam comes to mind and other notoriously evil Red Wizards. Not that you are obviously!” Gale buried his face in his hands and groaned. “I’m cocking this right up, aren’t I?”

A smile crept onto her face. “It’s alright. I…do you mind if I share the first time, I realized there was something different about me and my magic?” He lifted his head and nodded enthusiastically. She tentatively offered her hand which he took with a soft smile. “Like you, I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. One night when I was about five, I saw a boy in my bedroom. He was around my age, maybe a little younger. He asked if we could play for a while, and I said yes. I didn’t think anything of it.” She chuckled. “I found out later that he was the son one of my great-great-uncles who died of flu as a boy. His spirit was still in Hylfyst Manor and just wanted to play. This went on for a few weeks before my parents caught us playing but obviously couldn’t see him. He was scared when he saw them, saw how afraid they were of him. I reached out to touch him and when I did…they could see him.”

Gale’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me that you---as a five-year-old---made a spirit reveal himself? With a touch?!”

She smiled nervously. “Yes?”

“By the gods, how?!?!? How?! Can you still do this?!” He’s not afraid. He’s excited. Very excited. Like how Horace or Scratch gets really excited before I give him a treat.

“I can, though it doesn’t always work. I also can’t explain how I can do it. When it does happen, there’s always some light, which my parents and teachers think is the influence of Selune or Lathander, but who knows?” She shook her head. “Anyways, my parents told him he wasn’t in any trouble and then his spirit moved on. That was the first of my many communions with the dead and helping them along to whatever awaits them next.”

“That’s very kind of you to do.” He said warmly, giving her hand a squeeze.

Martha smiled nervously. Again. Oh my gods, my heart races when he smiles at me like that. “If I can help them, then I will. That’s not to say it’s easy or fun sometimes…but it’s worth it. And before you ask, none of my own studies in necromancy have explained why I’m like this---a freak.” A freak whose own mother thinks she’s useless…no, Mum’s never said that. She just thinks it. I know she does. I’m not a ranger like her. Not as elegant and pretty a lady as her. She’s braver and stronger. She loves the outdoors. Loves hunting. And then there’s me…

Gale shook his head, squeezing her hand again. “You’re not a freak. You were given a gift, from who I cannot say, but a gift nonetheless.” He let go of her hand and slowly touched her freckled cheek. His brown eyes stared into her wide golden ones. “You use this gift, this power bestowed upon you to help others. That’s not freakish at all. In fact, it’s quite admirable.” Something flashed in his eyes---a realization. “Have you ever heard of white necromancers?”

Her brow furrowed. “Hmm, I think there was a reference to that in a book I read years ago, but nothing specific I’m afraid.”

“White necromancers assist the living and the dead---healing mind and body, moving spirits on, and occasionally going into battle against other necromancers. By that definition,” he’s flashing my favorite charming smile. Gods, he’s so handsome. “You’re not a freak. You’re a white necromancer, which is nothing to be ashamed of.”

That’s what it’s always been about, hasn’t it?

Shame.

Shame for having this power.

Shame that in a family of barbarians and rangers, I’m the outlier.

Shame that I won’t live up to my own very high expectations.

She nodded quickly, feeling tears in her eyes. “No. No, it’s not.”

I won’t be ashamed anymore.

#martha hylfyst #martha x gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #pre relationship #plus size tav #wizard tav #necromancer tav #they are SO AWKWARD #but food is love and so is talking about your power over the dead #implied chubby gale #martha “i see dead people” hylfyst

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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 2 years ago

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My weekly roundup CW 15

Well, I watch a lot during the week, as you all might know. I really want to write a little bit more about the stuff I watch, but time and work kind of get in my creative way. So I try to write down my thoughts after watching stuff to create a little weekly ranking in relation to the previous week on my, most of the times, quiet sundays (and because I love lists and this is a good excuse for me to create a new OneNote journal!).

The Promise is on hiatus, so it didn't make it on this week's list.

↑ 1. The Eighth Sense (Ep 5+6)

I love it. This series is so brilliantly good. What I especially like are those little gestures, like how excited JaeWon was when he called JiHyun and how he smiled when he told his therapist about him. The entire beach scene made me melt. What a wonderful love scene! Very aesthetically pleasing and realistic, because you can have fun with something like this and explore the other in a playful way, not everything has to be oversexualized. The series really does so much right here! The end of the episode on the other hand…I have read quite a few analyses about the next episodes and I guess we will suffer together with Jaewon, who will fall back into his old pattern and his old life to not cause more harm to the one he cares for the most and in the end harming himself, because he can't live the life he desperately wants; and we will suffer with Jihyun, who is in love and understands that Jaewon has some baggage, but is left alone in the end and is hurting and that will make my heart hurt very much and thinking about all this makes me tear up...

→ 2. Unintentional Love Story (Ep 9 +10/Final)

One of the best encounters with an ex took place this week. And Wonyoung kicked that guy's ass! In general, he has grown a lot over the episodes and has undergone a good character development. He has gained more confidence and seems more mature than he did at the beginning. I also found the phone call between Wonyoung and Taejoon a good solution to make Taejoon realize that it's not just Wonyoung who did something wrong and that the past can definitely get in the way. All the nicer that they end up watching the sunset together. I liked the series a lot.

☼ 3. Our Dining Table (Ep 2)

Yes, this won't be the most dramatic thing we're currently seeing, but that's just fine. It is a pleasant and calm balance in this rather hectic series environment. Everywhere they try to lure you in with more action, more suspense and drama, more trauma or more sex and here we have a young man overcoming his eating disorder and finding a family with the help of two brothers. It's nice and quiet and doesn't hurt anyone. I'm really looking forward to the next episode and can't wait to see what they will cook next and where their conversations will take them.

↑ 4. Chains Of Heart (Ep 9)

Okay, we now have a psychic on board who can see people's past by touching them…Nothing really surprises me anymore! But seriously, what an episode! Finally we have Mr. Lue/Din and Ken together! Even though Ken seems to be in denial that Mr. Lue is Din? I think he knows, but can't stand the thought of Din lying to him all this time. So Mr. Lue is supposed to make him forget what he knows and wow, he does! These two were really starving for both affection and passion. What else happened? The scene also made me forget what happened next. Hin is the older brother of Din…Wouldn't have thought that, I thought he is the younger one. And then he is also the brain-cell of the whole episode! I am very impressed, he seemed more like the simple-minded shadow of Yu. All in all, once again a very good episode.

↑ 5. A Boss And A Babe (Ep 7)

So Gun is just the best in this series.

How he came into Cher's room after the shower and just doesn't give a shit what others think and says goodbye with "I'll wait in bed." And Cher's friends…they already know something since the BBQ, but they happily ignore it away. That's another way of dealing with it. Some say that not much happens and the show has no real plot. Does something outstanding always have to happen? Aren't everyday problems and how to deal with them sometimes enough? Like the problems with the foster brother or overcoming a first love and discovering a new, different love. I really liked walking with Cher through his life this week.

☼ 6. Naked Dining (Ep 1)

What do you do when you want to relieve stress? I craft or watch series or listen to loud music. Our protagonist eats…naked. And feels free. Honestly, if it helps? Who am I to judge? He finds a letter in the mail from his grandmother, who has already passed away. She wrote the letter six months ago and put it into a program that sends mail at a chosen time. He visits the house to clean it up and relax a bit from the stressful world of work. There he meets Miki Mahiro, who has taken the grandmother on a culinary journey to discover the world in this way. And as fate would have it, he discovers that our protagonist likes to be naked while eating. The scene was hilarious!

↓ 7. Bed Friend (Ep 9)

I'm only watching now because it'll be over soon. The series started really strong, but somehow it lost me. The positive thing about this episode was that for once there was no drama and Uea could take a breath (okay, except maybe at the very beginning, but that's positive drama when the former abuser is arrested and the abusive mother is done with the world). And finally Uea came around and accepted King as his boyfriend. It was getting a bit exhausting to see King begging and at the end I was just confused what their status is now. The introduction to King's parents I found really charming, between door and hinge. So not the hit for me this week.

☼ 8. My Story (Ep 1)

There's so much going on that I've lost track of everything. But one guy is a cook and goes to Thailand to earn money and meets the future love of his life there. And another one takes in a young man in his dormitory, which the dean finds totally fine, also that they have to share the bed together and that's why he just gets put up there from school and you can already tell in episode one that the two of them are going to be exciting. They have definitely stolen the show for me.

→ 9. Tin Tem Jai (Ep 7)

Now why the hell did Park have this change of heart? It feels like yesterday he wanted to do everything to convince Tin that he doesn't like him and will never marry him, and suddenly they're sitting in the living room and he confesses to him, in the creepiest way possible, that he tried to think of him as just a brother, but the older Tin got, the prettier he got…What masterful mind-brain came up with this dialogue? And those random jumps in time and space, and why didn't Tin and Park talk to each other? And Park really only has three emotions…annoyed, tired or neutral…Nothing else comes across…I can't really feel his affection for Tin either. Anyway…Three more episodes and if this doesn't end with the wedding of the two, I'll throw hands.

→ 10. PastSenger (Ep 6)

Okay, they like each other. Everybody likes each other. I just can't see the chemistry between Plawan and Moodaeng. For me, there's nothing there and it feels a little too rushed how Plawan got over his crush on Bamee. Then Kiev and Bamee…just talk to each other! But no, argue. And by the way it's totally normal when your friends want to interfere in your life or at least worry! What kind of friends are they who just let him work in this place? I would have taken him in and looked for something more suitable…And Franc is suddenly not so bad after all and makes her laugh? Very fast and confusing changes that happened this week. And I'm not talking about the kisses…Except maybe you shouldn't have held the camera on them quite so long…Had to look away briefly at the drunken mouth on mouth placement…

#josi watching bl #weekly update #weekly wrap up #sunday charts #the eighth sense #unintentional love story #our dining table #chains of heart #a boss and a babe #naked dining #bed friend #my story #tin tem jai #past senger #bl series #bl drama #just my thoughts

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libraryledge · 8 months ago

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A Part of My Story (A Reimagined Tale Set in the World of Wonka) Part 7

Author's Note: Thank you to everybody who has shown love to my writing. So far, this story has been told from the perspective of the girl and her encounters with Wonka, but what if we explore how Wonka feels about her? Enjoy his side of the story.

“It’s official! You finally learned the alphabet.” a voice rang melodically in my ears. The voice belonged to a girl about my age with wavy brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. She smiled at me as she waved her arms in the air, in a celebratory manner.

I couldn’t help but grin at her display of excitement.”Yes! I did. Didn't I?” I responded, matching her enthusiasm. The girl clapped her hands.

“I’m really proud of you, Willy. You’re a fast learner!” she said.

“Well you are a good teacher. I’m glad you were patient enough to help me out.” I responded sincerely.

This girl came into my life on a snowy winter night. Despite only knowing her for a few months, I now considered her one of my closest friends. She was wickedly smart and imaginative. I prided myself for my creativity when it came to making chocolate, but she was on another level. Her talent for storytelling was unmatched. Each night before bed she’d sit by the window adding onto her story about a young boy named Charlie and the quirky characters he’d meet on his journey.

“We should celebrate!” she said, her smile growing even wider. “How’s your schedule looking for tonight at about 7:35pm?” she asked, rocking on the balls of her feet, a habit that I exhibited myself when I was nervous. In her case, I doubted her movement was stemming from nerves because she was usually quite confident and outgoing.

“That’s a very specific time, but I don’t have any plans,” I replied, curious to see what she was cooking up.

“Perfect! Then I am inviting you to the movies,” she responded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “There’s a new Fred Astaire movie, and I’m dying to see it.”

I’d never been to the movies, and I had no idea who Fred Astaire was, but I wasn’t going to give up a chance to spend a fun night out with a dear friend.

“Ok. It’s a date,” I said. Then my eyes widened, as I realized that may have sounded too forward.

“It’s a date,” she repeated, oblivious to my blunder. She walked out of the room, on her way to complete an errand in town, leaving me behind with flustered cheeks.

I was really looking forward to tonight. It was a much needed time off after an eventful couple of months. I’d made tremendous sales from my chocolate. Word got around after our success with Colin and Barbara at Brandino’s restaurant. The couple quickly tied the knot after Colin got his confidence back, and they were currently on a honeymoon adventure in America. People here in London were eager to try my latest delicacies, and I had to rush to meet their demand, all while avoiding the vigilance of the chief of police.

Luckily this lovely girl aided me with the process. She was great with helping me gather the ingredients, no matter how random the procedure was. I didn’t know many people that would milk a giraffe to help a fellow out. She took part in the taste testing, and even though she wouldn't admit it, I knew it was her favorite part. Her eyes would light up each time she took a bite out of my latest inventions.

Amidst it all, she made time every night to read to me and help me memorize the alphabet. Reading was something I never had the opportunity to learn because unlike most people my age, I grew up on a boat, and when my mother passed away, I relied on the kindness of strangers to help me get by. Until I arrived at the wash house I’d never stayed at a place long enough to make friends. Now, I considered Noodle to be like a younger sister and this girl, whom I shared a room with was the best companion I could have asked for.

Later that night, I put on my favorite plum colored coat over my usual waistcoat and scarf. I brushed my hair, which was usually curly, but tonight it was extra frizzy since I’d spent the afternoon hunched over the heat of a small pot, working on a batch of one of my most popular treats: Sweet Romance Truffles. The idea for this treat came from my adventures in Paris, where love flowed from every street corner. I enjoyed watching the tenderness that couples exhibited towards one another, and I wanted to bottle up the sensation for everyone to enjoy.

I, myself, had never experienced romance, but was truly captivated by the idea of love. In Paris, I watched couples sneak kisses under street lamps and hold hands as they took a stroll, but I’d also witnessed arguments and frustration when things went south. However, I admired how love always drove them to learn from their mistakes and grow as people. When I let the girl I’d met here in London try one of the treats, she asked me if they could make two people fall in love. I told her that a candy alone couldn’t do that, but rather my treat intensified the romantic feelings someone already had. She’d grown quiet and nodded, as she enjoyed the treat. I wondered if she had someone back home that she had feelings for. She never talked about things like that, and even though it was none of my business, I couldn’t help wondering.

I was lost in thought, when I heard a knock at the door.

“Willy, are you ready?”came a voice from behind me.

I turned and saw the girl standing there. She was wearing brown pants and a matching brown cardigan with a patterned scarf around her neck. I loved the way that she dressed because even though we didn’t have a lot of money, she always found a way to avoid conformity and express her unique style.

“Ready Freddy!” I joked as I placed my top hat on my head and held out my arm for her in a playful act of chivalry. I was surprised when she smiled and looped her arm through mine.

“Someone’s excited to go watch Fred Astaire,” she joked and I smiled back at her.

“Actually, I don't know much about Fred Astaire. You’re going to have to enlighten me,” I replied as we snuck out of the wash house and walked towards the local theater.”

I didn’t think her smile could get any larger, but it did. “Oh! He’s incredible. He’s a dancer and an actor and there’s almost no one who can put on a show like he can,” she replied.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush on him,” I teased and watched as her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. She bumped me with her side, in jest.

“Back home there was only one theater near me, and even though my family didn’t have a lot of money, I’d save up what little we had to watch a film there once in a while. Fred Astaire’s dance movies were always my favorite. The way he charmed an audience always excited me,” she stopped and looked at me for a brief second before inspecting her shoes. “He kind of reminds me of you,”

“Me?” I asked in surprise. “I’m definitely not a dancer. Aspiring world-renowned chocolate maker perhaps.”

She chuckled. “I don’t mean in the dancing aspects, You possess a certain charm. I see the way you talk to Noodle, the townspeople, and even complete strangers. Even the way you deal with Scrubbit and Bleacher or the chief of police is admirable.”

I felt my own cheeks grow warm and I adjusted my top hat in an attempt to cast a shadow over my flushed face. Was she implying that I was charming? Somehow the thought of that filled my chest with a sudden warmth.

If she noticed my flustered reaction, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she tugged lightly on my arm and said, “Come on! Let’s go! We don’t want to be late.”

The rest of the way to the theater, my heart was pounding with excitement. When we arrived at the ticket window, I offered to pay for the tickets, but she refused.

“I’ll pay. I invited you to celebrate. Remember?” she said as she whisked us into the theater.

The inside was unlike any place that I’d ever been to. There were rows and rows of seats, and I watched as people chattered quietly with one another before they sat down. My companion decided to pick a pair of seats in the middle of the theater. We had barely settled into our seats when the lights dimmed and a large screen in front of us lit up to display a man in a top hat, much like my own. She nudged me and gestured towards the screen as if to say “See I told you!”

I smiled and shifted my attention back to the screen.

The film was named, Never Were You Lovelier, and it was about a dancer played by Fred Astaire who traveled to Argentina in order to escape his vices. Along the way he falls in love with a woman, who is hesitant to accept his advances. The man goes through so many absurd situations in order to get her attention, but she is not ready to commit. However, they eventually patch things up, realize they’re meant to be, and get married. The entire plot reminded me of the situation with Colin and Barbara. I wondered if whoever wrote this film had witnessed a similar occurrence. I always thought that the best stories came when authors pulled from their personal experiences and created an entirely new world from it.

After the film, the girl next to me was grinning from ear to ear. I loved seeing her smile. It was so much better than seeing her face crumpled in tears, like the day that Mr. Doux-Amer rejected her story. It broke my heart to see her believe that her dream had fallen to pieces, but I was so happy to see her pick her pen back up and keep writing. In fact she’d been working nonstop for the past few weeks.

“So what did you think of your first movie?” she asked me as we walked out of the theater into the cool night air.

“I loved it! I can understand why you’re in love with Fred Astaire.” I said coyly, watching as she rolled her eyes at me.

“I’m not in love with Fred Astaire! How can I have an emotional attachment to someone I don’t know in real life?” she said, trying to hide a smile.

I shrugged playfully “It’s not unheard of. I have an emotional attachment to the characters that you write.”

She couldn’t keep her smile back any longer. “It’s funny you say that because there may be more coming soon.”

“Oh?” I responded, curious to learn more.

“Yesterday, when you were out in town, selling chocolate, I plucked up the courage to go back to Mr. Doux-Amer’s publishing office.” she said.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise and replied, “Really?”

She nodded. “I brought him a rough draft of what I have written so far and what I plan to add to it. I think he really liked it. He told me that if I can get him a full draft by the beginning of next month, there’s a good chance that he can publish it!” She beamed from ear to ear as she broke the news to me.

“That’s incredible! I’m so proud of you!” I replied, overcome with a wave of emotions. I threw my arms around her and wrapped her in a tight embrace. At first she was surprised by my sudden gesture, but she returned my embrace with a tight squeeze. She smelled sweet, and none of the candy in my travel case could compare.

As we pulled apart, she gave me a serious look “You want to know what the best part was? I wasn’t scared. In the back of my mind, I knew that another rejection was possible, but I was more focused on making him understand why my story should be published.”

“What did you tell him?” I asked.

“I told him that I’ve been working on this story for a long time, but until recently I didn’t know what its purpose was. Obviously, I want to get my work out there, but I was writing without a reason as to why. I realized that writing is my way of putting hope back into an often dreary world. I write when I feel alone, when I miss my family, or experience uncertainty. I write about what I want to see in the world. Compassion. Patience. Love.” she said and smiled at me before continuing.

“I want kids like Noodle and my sister, who have a tough life, to read my stories and realize that even if thunderclouds bring a hard rain, each one has a silver lining.” she continued.

I felt my heart skip a beat. Was she alluding to my chocolates?

‘I told him that a very wise person taught me that.” she said, as she looked into my eyes

“Me?” I asked, almost in a whisper.

She nodded. “I wouldn’t have had the motivation to keep writing my book if you hadn’t encouraged me. It baffles me how easily you bring joy to every place that you visit. We’re staying in a rundown laundry house and from the moment I got there, you made me feel at ease.”

I felt myself blush, and this time there was no way to hide it. She definitely noticed because she gave me a sweet smile in return.

It didn’t happen often, but I was speechless. Here she was telling me how much of a difference I’d made in her life, and she had no idea how much of an impact she’d made on mind. Before meeting her, I’d spent countless hours traveling alone to collect ingredients for my next creation. While I absolutely loved it, there was a newfound joy that came with going on that journey with someone else.

“I’ve never had a friend my age, much less one who is willing to put herself through the wildest predicaments to support my dreams. The last person that I ever felt this type of connection with was Mama.” I said, and I felt the tears prickling in my eyes.

“Aww Willy! Don’t cry!” she exclaimed as she took her scarf off and patted my cheek dry of the tears that began to flow. At that moment, I felt overcome with emotion. Her gesture was intimate yet innocently tender. All I wanted to do in that moment was-

She placed a kiss on my cheek, taking me by surprise. Her lips felt warm against my skin, and her sweet smell filled my lungs once more.

“Your Mama would be so proud of you.” she whispered.

I sniffed and gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you. Actually, there’s something of hers that I wanted to show with you.” I said as I pulled out a small chocolate bar from my coat pocket.

“This is the last gift that I got from her before she passed. She’d spend the entire year collecting cocoa beans, until she had enough to make a treat for my birthday. I was never ready to eat it, until now. I think she’d want us to enjoy it together.” I said and my voice wavered a bit.

She gave me a heartfelt look as tears welled in her own eyes. “Darn it Willy. Now you’re going to make me cry.” she said with a chuckle.

I slowly unwrapped the chocolate bar, and was surprised when a small piece of gold paper was situated between the wrapper and the candy. I inspected it and saw a message scrawled upon it in Mama’s handwriting. I showed the paper to my companion.

"Can you read it to me please?" I asked her.

"Of course. I'd be happy to," she said, with a nod as she read:

The secret is it’s not the chocolate that matters

I flipped over the paper to reveal another message

It’s the people you share it with.

At that point, I was in tears once more. I always wanted to know what Mama’s secret to creating such wonderful chocolate was. It turned out that it wasn’t about getting some wacky ingredients or making treats that could make a person levitate or grow in confidence. Instead, it was about the people that the treats were shared with. I knew that I wouldn’t be unable to get a coherent sentence out without bawling, so I handed the gold paper to the girl next to me. She looked over it once more, with a heartfelt look across her face.

“Oh! Willy, this is beautiful.” she said, her eyes glistening.

I took the chocolate bar out of the wrapper and admired a gold letter “W” written in Mama’s signature style upon the top of the treat. I broke a piece off of the candy, took the girl’s hand, and placed the sweet on it.

“There’s no one I’d rather share this with.” I told her, and I watched as her cheeks flushed, an endearing shade of pink. I held up my piece of chocolate to her in a toast and she returned the gesture.

I placed the treat in my mouth and felt it melt upon my tongue. The chocolate was rich and sweet, just like this moment. I wanted them both to last forever.

As if she read my mind, she said, “This is incredible.”, her eyes sparkling.

Maybe it was the serotonin from the chocolate or the emotion of finally discovering Mama’s secret, but something drove me to take a step closer to her. I placed my hand on her cheek. We were both about the same height, so our eyes lines aligned. As we locked eyes, I raised an eyebrow to wordlessly question, “May I?” She nodded, and I felt my heart pounding as I leaned in closer.

I tilted my head and leaned in. I could feel her chocolate scented breath upon my own. I inched in closer and closer until-

“WONKA!”

Scared out of my wits, I jumped back in surprise. I turned around, only to see the chief of police staring down at me intensely. My face was blazing hot.

“No public displays of affection! Don’t forget you still owe me from disturbing the peace yesterday by selling chocolate in town.” said the chef with a look of immense annoyance. I watched as creases formed on his forehead while he frowned at me. Normally, I’d have a snazzy comeback prepared for situations like this, but I was still reeling from the fact that I’d almost had my first kiss to respond to him.

“But sir!” said the girl next to me, her own face still rosy. “Have you ever tried one of his chocolates?”

The chief of police rolled his eyes. “Like Wonka would ever share his creations with me.”

His words took me aback. I’d never thought of sharing my treats with the chief. I was usually too busy running from him to avoid another citation. I reached into my pocket for Mama’s candy bar.

“Well Mama, let’s put your secret to the test,” I thought to myself as I cut a small piece off of the treat and handed it to the chief.

“Here. Try it. You’ll love it.” I said, crossing my fingers behind my bag in anticipation. I watched as the chief’s face morphed from a contorted look of disgust to one of pleasure.

“You made this?” the chief of police said in disbelief.

“Actually, my mother made this one, but now, I follow her example and create my own sweets,” I said sincerely. I took off my top hat and pulled out a small jar of pink and brown treats. I always carried around chocolate with me, specifically for moments like this.

“Here you can try these. It’s a new recipe I’m working on. It’s called a Broadway Chocolate, and it’s meant to add a bit of music to a person’s day. You can let me know what you think about it next time you see me disturbing the peace in town.” I said with a shrug.

The chief of police stared at me intensely, and much to my surprise he began to chuckle.

“Wonka, you really are something.” he said, turning to look at the girl next to me. “Keep an eye on this one.”

She began to laugh as well. “I’ll do my best.” she said, winking at me.

At that moment, I knew she meant it. She brought me more joy than any sweet treat ever could. That was saying something as my aspirations lay in the creation of candy. Watching as she exchanged comedic remarks with the chief, my heart swelled. Maybe it was too early to determine, but something inside of me knew that I never wanted her to leave my side. Mama was right. Chocolate is better when it is shared, and there was no one, but this wonderful girl that I wanted to share it with.

#timothée chalamet #wonka #fanfic #wonka 2023 #timothee chalamet #humor #timmy chalamet #reimagining #willy wonka #roald dahl #writing #chocolate #wonka movie #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #charlie and the great glass elevator #pov

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stargazer-sims · 1 year ago

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Journal Entry #60

Journal Entry #59 // STORY INDEX

Yuri

At the beginning of September, Victor and I moved into our forever home.

We thought we might go in the middle of the month, but I knew Victor wanted to have time to begin training with his new coach before the start of the competitive snowboarding season, and I wanted to be settled into our house in time to celebrate my birthday, so I suggested that we should arrange to go sooner. Victor seemed surprised, but he was pleased, and it made me happy to offer something he genuinely wanted without feeling like I was doing it as some sort of repayment for an imaginary debt I owe him.

That's one truth I've come to realize over the course of this year; the debt really was imaginary. Victor loves me, and he does things for me because he wants to help me and make my life easier. He never expects me to repay him deed for deed. All he wants is for me to do my best to help him whenever I can.

Sometimes my best is quite a lot, and sometimes I’m not physically capable of doing much of anything. Either way, it’s okay. Not being able to do everything all the time doesn't make me a bad person or a failure as a husband, and I'm beginning to understand that it was only my insecurity and lack of self-worth that made me believe it did.

Learning to trust myself and to believe in my own abilities and my value as a person hasn't been easy. Some days, I struggle to find even one affirming thing to say, and that's when I know I need to ask for help.

Doing that was difficult at first, because I had to get over the hurdle of thinking that asking for even the smallest thing made me a burden to Victor or my family. Releasing the guilt and shame is an ongoing process, just like teaching myself to be more positive and self-confident is, but I'm determined to succeed. I owe it to everyone I love, and I owe it to me.

When I can't come up with an affirmation, Victor always knows what to do. Rather than simply saying something good about me and asking me to accept it, he challenges me to name something I accomplished during the previous few days. It might be something big like planning and cooking an entire meal on my own, or maybe it'll be something small like folding laundry or sending an email, but there's always something. Then, he gets me to stand in front of the full-length mirror in my room and congratulate myself aloud.

Initially, that felt like an utterly silly thing to do, but Victor told me his first coach used to get his students to do it before competitions. He said the coach used to tell them to look at themselves in the washroom mirror and tell themselves things like, “I am brave and I am strong. I want to win, but even if I don’t win this time, I won't give up trying.”

Now I look forward to my little early-morning pep talks. As ridiculous as this may sound, these days it actually feels good to look myself in the eyes and say something like that, because it's not just a rote exercise any more. I am brave and I am strong, and even if today's not my day, there's always tomorrow. It's an effort to pick myself up and keep going, but I won't quit, not when I've gotten this far.

Honestly, the thing I’m most proud of lately is eating. I still don’t really love consuming most foods, but eating feels less stressful to me now, and most of the time I’m able to look at food and think about eating without becoming anxious.

I'll admit, I have moments when I wish I could go back to formula and not have to put anything in my mouth. I still have my tube, and fresh formula is only as far away as the pharmacy, so the temptation is certainly there. When I feel like that, I have to remind myself of my goal and push through as best I can. Victor encourages me on my bad days too, and I always look at my sticker chart to remind me of the progress I've made so far.

Yes, for those who may be wondering, we did bring my sticker chart with us from Japan. Mama rolled it up and put it in one of those cardboard cylinders normally used for maps or architectural plans, and I carried it with me on the plane. it's hanging in our kitchen here in Willow Creek now.

If you're looking for an update on it, tomorrow is the twentieth of September — my twenty-sixth birthday, incidentally — and I'll only have twelve more days to go before I can say I've been formula-free for sixty consecutive days.

I’ve earned four small rewards so far, and in a couple of days I’ll earn the fifth one. I already know what it is, but Victor says we can’t bring it home until I complete this current ten-day stretch. It’s garden boxes, by the way. My previous reward was gardening tools, and the one before that was a book about growing vegetables.

I won’t be able to start my garden till next spring, but I’ve already picked out a spot for my boxes, and having the things now means a lot even if I have to wait to use them. Choosing what to grow and reading up on the best cultivation methods will keep me busy during the winter, and then I’ll be ready to plant my little crop when the time comes.

Victor says strawberries do well in this climate, so I think they’ll be first on my list. I’m already imagining eating strawberries I nurtured myself. Do you think love and hope will make them sweeter?

I haven’t even planted them yet and I have a whole multitude of emotions about them. Mostly, I’m excited. I’ve always wanted my own garden, but I pictured it as flowers, not vegetables and fruit. The idea that we have room here for both makes me happy, and I can hardly wait to grow my favourite Japanese lilies and hydrangea alongside my strawberries.

Anyway, please excuse me for getting slightly off-track. I was trying to tell you about my progress. Day sixty will be October first, and then I’ll get the big reward. I know what that’s going to be as well, and it is very big. Victor told me this morning. I guess he couldn’t keep the secret until my birthday, which is when he and my parents had evidently planned to tell me, but I forgive him. It was still a fantastic surprise, and to be fair, it’s a gift for both Victor and me, so I can’t blame him for being enthusiastic about it.

I’ll tell you exactly what it is in my next entry, but suffice it to say, keeping my eyes on this particular prize is going to motivate me through the next fortnight.

Unfortunately, even when I reach the sixty-day mark, I'll still have my tube for a few more weeks because my first appointment with Dr. Kim, my new specialist here in Willow Creek, isn't until the twenty-second of October. Meanwhile, I'm still having follow-up by way of video conferences with my nutritionist back in Kyoto, and Dr. Kasongo is technically still my doctor. When I finish my sixty days, I'll get to report my progress to them, and then Dr. Kasongo will probably write a letter to Dr. Kim to tell him I'm ready to have my tube removed.

Apparently, he can do it right there in his office in about five minutes. From what I understand, he'll numb the area with an injection of some sort of local anaesthetic, maybe something like the dentist uses, and then when I can't feel anything, he'll pull the device straight out. He'll put a dressing on the area, and we'll have to watch for any signs of infection for a week or so until the tube site heals closed.

According to the information sheet I read about G-tube removal, I'll have to rest a lot and eat several small meals of bland foods like rice and yogurt for the first forty-eight hours after it comes out, and I'll have to take showers instead of baths until the hole closes, but that's about it. It's not even supposed to be particularly painful. I'll have a scar, of course, but I can live with that.

Victor says it’ll be my badge of honour, a tangible reminder of having survived one of the toughest situations I’ve ever experienced.

“It’ll prove you’re a warrior,” he told me. “You fought the battle, and you came out on top. That’s the thing with courageous people, you know. They might be scared, but they don’t let their fear win.”

I will never, ever let my fear win again.

But, you’ve probably had enough of me going on about my health at this point, haven’t you? Let me rewind and tell you a bit about our lovely summer and about our move instead.

The biggest highlight of the summer for me was having everyone I love most all together in one place. I didn't think Victor would agree to stay at my parents' house. When Papa invited him, he said he'd have to think about it, and I was convinced he'd say no, but I'm glad he decided to take Papa up on his offer in the end. We shared my old room, and even though we’re married and it's totally normal for us to sleep in the same bed, somehow this felt like I was a teenager having a sleepover with my boyfriend every night.

Victor and I spent a lot of time together, going for long walks and visiting parts of town we hadn't seen in a while. We went to the public onsen in Kiyomatsu several times, and we visited the local shrine. On sunny days, we usually packed our lunch and ate it down by the lake. I've taken a liking to eating outside, and now I want a picnic table in the back yard so we can enjoy meals outdoors here as well.

Aside from our dates, picnics and leisurely walks, Victor and I also made time to hang out with our friends. I'm relieved to say, Fox forgave me for the horrible way I treated him. He seemed a little perplexed by my apology at first, not so much because of what I said but because of the way I bowed to him. Takahiro had to explain it to him, and then he ended up making a wholly unnecessary apology to me for the cultural confusion.

While I'm on the subject of Taka and Fox, I should mention that Taka passed his immigration English test. He also got accepted into the college program he applied for, and received his study permit in August. In a cosmic stroke of good timing, Taka's Canadian study permit arrived on the day Fox's Japanese work visa expired, and they left Japan together a few days later.

Back in the winter, Victor and I offered to let them stay with us, but a lot has changed for all of us since then. We were supposed to have arrived in Willow Creek ahead of them, but obviously that didn't happen. In the meantime, Fox was busy applying for jobs back home, and he got offered a social worker position with the Department of Community Services, beginning in September. He has a Master's degree in social work, so the offer was ideal, as the position is exactly what he'd trained for.

Fox's parents still aren't speaking to him, but his sister hasn't abandoned him. She helped him find an apartment that's affordable, close to the college so Taka can walk to school, and on a bus route that'll take Fox downtown to his office. They stayed with one of Fox's cousins for a few weeks until the old tenants moved out of the apartment, and then they moved into their place around the same time we moved into ours.

I can't even begin to describe how reassuring it is to have my friend Takahiro nearby, and he confessed that he felt similarly about me being here. As safe and content as we are with our respective partners, it's daunting to realize we're in a whole new country without our families and all the things we're used to. There's no escaping the fact that we're newcomers, but it's less scary knowing we're not alone in the experience.

I wish I could say things were going as well for Seiji as they are for Taka and me. Victor and I took a weekend trip to Kyoto in July, and we decided to visit him while we were there. We got the impression he didn't really want to see us, though, and we only stayed at his flat for about half an hour because the atmosphere was so awkward.

We made a lot of small talk, but he did tell us that he hates working at the convenience store and is trying to figure out what to do next. His mother wants him to come home and be her apprentice, but he said he can't picture himself as a tailor. That statement, when the only real furniture we saw in his flat besides a shikibuton, a thrifted table and two rickety chairs was a purpose-built desk with a sewing machine on it, was incongruous. But we didn't question it. Seiji is the only one who can decide which direction he should take.

Victor's theory is that Seiji does want to come home, but he's too embarrassed or ashamed to, after leaving the way he did. If that's the case, nothing we could've said would have convinced him anyway. He'll have to make up his own mind to set aside his pride or fear or whatever else may be holding him back.

It makes me sad to think of him being all alone in that bare, depressing flat. Despite all the hurtful things he said to me, I still consider him my friend and I want him to have a full and happy life. I'd like the chance to talk to him one-on-one, to explain some things and to let him get his feelings out. That may never happen, I realize, but I like to think I'm keeping the door open for the opportunity, should it ever arise.

The uncomfortable meeting with Seiji notwithstanding, Victor and I had the most magical weekend in Kyoto. We revisited all the places we went to during the week we'd gotten married. On one evening we attended an absolutely glorious performance by a local string quartet, and on another we went skating at an indoor rink where I was able to teach Victor a sporting skill for once. Would you believe I'm a better skater than him? Well... perhaps not better, but more graceful at least.

As for the rest of the summer, August passed in much the same way as July, with plenty of walks and outdoor meals and precious time with my family. One thing of particular note from August, however, was my meeting with Mr. Tanaka and the human resources representative from our firm. Dr. Kasongo submitted a report to our HR department recommending that my short-term disability claim should be extended until the end of the year. Her opinion is that I'll be medically ready to return to work in January, and both my boss and the HR department approved the extension.

I'm looking forward to getting back to work, but I'm also glad that I'll have the rest of the year to keep getting better. I was working remotely before, but now I'll be working extremely remotely, and I think it's great that I get to keep my old job even though I'm living in an entirely different country. Much to my delight, Mr. Tanaka seems to think so as well. He said it was a chance he couldn't possibly pass up because with me being fluent in English and physically located in Canada, our firm will be in a much better position to attract more North American clients. Mr. Tanaka said he'd contact me early in December to work out a schedule for regular meetings, and so we can discuss my job duties and responsibilities going forward.

Although he didn't directly say so, I think he may have given me a promotion of sorts. I'll be sure to let you know if that indeed turns out to be the case.

The other big thing in August was that Victor and I departed Japan on the thirty-first. We said our goodbyes to Mama and Yuki at home, and then Papa took us to the airport.

I could not have predicted how emotional that would be.

Papa and I have grown close this year, and I wish I could find the right way to express how much of the previously empty space in my soul he's filled. I knew I was missing him all those years when our relationship was so strained, but I could not have comprehended exactly how much until we both dropped our stubborn pride and opened up our hearts and minds to each other. Saying goodbye was even harder than I expected, and even though I knew it wouldn't be a permanent goodbye, part of me didn't want to let go.

He went with us all the way to the security area. We all stopped outside the big glass doors, and Papa held out his hand for Victor to shake.

"Take care of yourself, Victor," he said. "And take care of my son."

"I'll take the best care of him, I promise," Victor assured him. "Don't worry."

"I'm going to, regardless," Papa said. "But, I trust you."

"Thanks." Victor grinned mischievously at him. "But, you know, if you ever want to come check on him in person, you're welcome to visit us whenever you're able. We'll offer you a non-haunted bedroom."

Papa smiled. "Expect us for Winterfest, and tell Miss Sachiko that we wouldn't dream of taking her room."

"Will do," Victor said.

Then, Papa turned to me. For an instant, I thought he was going to shake my hand too, but at the last moment he pulled me into a hug. I can't remember the last time I was hugged by my father and didn't feel uncomfortable with it, but I had no problem this time. I put my arms around him and held on tight.

"We'll see you in a few months," he whispered into my hair, and I was startled when I realized he was crying.

But I guessed I couldn't fault him for it because my eyes certainly weren't dry either. "I'm really going to miss you."

"Me too," he said. "Think of me when you’re having your strawberry milkshakes."

"I'll think of you every day, no matter what I'm doing. You and Mama and Yuki."

"I love you, my treasure," he said quietly. "Be brave. Mama and I believe in you, and we know you're going to have a wonderful new life in Canada."

I was sobbing by that point, but I managed to get out, "I love you, Papa."

I meant it. Watcher help me… with every fibre of my being, I meant it, and I hadn't even grasped the full magnitude of my love for him until that very moment.

When he walked away, I couldn't watch. Victor held me while I cried my heart out, right there in the middle of the crowded airport.

"It's gonna be okay, Yuri," Victor said. "He's right, you know. We're gonna have a wonderful life."

It was hard to believe that when I felt like my heart was breaking, but once we were in the air and away, I began to feel better. On the plane, we looked at pictures of various places around Willow Creek that we'd taken back in June, photos of Dr. Grace and Dr. Julian's wedding, and some funny snaps we'd taken of ourselves and Yuki in my room at my parents’ house. We talked about our plans and dreams, and we made up stories about ourselves in the far future. Cute old men in rocking chairs on our front porch, Victor said, and the image made me smile.

We arrived at the tiny Willow Creek airport around mid-morning the next day, where we were met by Victor's mother. She drove us home, and as we were getting out of the car, she handed Victor a set of keys.

"Here you go," she said. "Your grandpa was supposed to be here with the set you gave him, but apparently he and Juliet went on a spur-of-the-moment road trip to Oasis Springs. He said to pass along his apologies. He’ll be here next week."

Victor looked amused. "How much you want to bet they're eloping?"

"Victor!" Dr. Grace exclaimed. "Michael wouldn't do that."

"You don't think?" Victor's raised eyebrow said he might've known something his mother didn't.

Dr. Grace shook her head. "You're impossible, you know. You and your Grandpa Michael.”

"Yeah, we get that a lot."

"Well, I'll leave the two of you to settle in," she said. "Come over around five o'clock. Julian's making his famous chicken parmigiana."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Italian food," Victor replied. "I think you'll like it."

“Strawberry cake for dessert,” Dr. Grace added. “Because I heard somebody around here really enjoys strawberries.”

Victor winked at me. “I wonder who that could be?”

“I’ll see you boys at dinner,” Dr. Grace said

She wished us a good day, and then she got back into her car and drove across the street. It's nice, living across the street from Victor's mother and stepfather. I know Victor's happy about it, and I like knowing we have somebody close we can rely on if we ever need anything.

Once Victor's mother had left, I was ready to go inside. I started for the doorstep, but Victor held up his hand to stop me. "Just wait right there, okay?"

"Why?" I asked, as I watched him bound up the steps.

He unlocked the front door and flung it wide open before rejoining me on the walkway. "Because," he said. "I'm gonna carry you over the threshold. Isn't that what they do in those historical movies you like?"

I laughed. "That's for newlyweds, Victor. We've been married nearly a year."

"Yeah, but we didn't have our own house when we were newlyweds, did we?"

"Are you certain you can even still lift me? And your arms—"

"My arms are fine, and you're not that much heavier than you used to be. If I can't still carry you a few meters, I think that'll be a sign to go harder on the weight training."

"Okay," I said. I was a little dubious, but also secretly thrilled at the thought of being carried. It'd been a long time, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it.

"Okay," Victor said. "Ready?"

I nodded, and a second later he scooped me up as seemingly effortlessly as he ever had. He carried me up the steps and through the door, and then set me down carefully in the front hallway.

"Welcome home," he said.

I wanted to run through the place and look at everything, touch everything, and soak in the knowledge that this was our home. Mine and Victor's. It was the place where we'd truly build our intertwined lives, where we'd finish growing up and growing old together. Our goals and dreams would spring from here, and we'd live happily ever after because even if the world around us was in chaos, happiness comes from the inside. Victor taught me that, and once I finally understood it, my outlook changed completely. Life may not always be smooth sailing, but together we can survive any storm and come out smiling on the other side of it.

Before I ran off to explore every corner of the house and garden, there was something I needed to do.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me. For being my soulmate and my superhero and my... everything."

Victor leaned down to kiss me, and I let myself melt into his embrace. I closed my eyes, breathing in the soft, sweet scent of coconut sunscreen and relishing the solid warmth of his body against mine. It was comforting and familiar, and it felt like the fulfillment of all my desires. For a moment, I forgot that I was in a foreign country, forgot that I had responsibilities... forgot everything that wasn't the sensation of being held by my husband.

"You are the most amazing person," Victor whispered with his lips still almost touching mine. "I'm lucky, getting to share the rest of my life with you."

I'm the lucky one, I thought. I don't know if I'd even be here to recount this to all of you if it weren't for Victor. I know he'd never take credit for saving me and would probably say I saved myself, but I couldn't have done it without him. I no longer think of repayment, but it's still important to me to show gratitude for everything he's done, and I think the best way I can do that is to appreciate the life he's helped me reclaim and live it to the fullest of my capability.

I stood on tiptoe to kiss him one more time and then, hand in hand, we set out to acquaint ourselves with every detail of our beautiful new home.

#writing #victorsworldadventures #willow creek #willow creek haunted house #victor nelson #yuri okamoto #tw chronic illness #tw medical mention #stargazersims

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