#I am quite confident looking forward to all they will cook up

[nalyra-dreaming]

What decision/ direction from the writers would absolutely disappoint you?

In your opinion what is the biggest trap they should avoid with the show?

Softening down the narrative. Remove the messiness and difficult character traits.

I guess.

But I don't think they will. On the contrary, I think they will put their proverbial fingers into allllll the wounds.

... maybe if they put too much a focus on the "flings" in the books.

But I don't think they will. I think they will be very clear with their focus.

[whatswrongwithblue]

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.

[queenshelby]

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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[megs-1800]

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”. 

[skrrts]

heart art & rain (drabble)

✧ gn!reader x hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, fluff, dating ✧ word count: 774

You surprise Hongjoong with a cake & chalk hearts to celebrate your first anniversary together.

a/n: another part of me practicing to write under 1k words. today's suggestion was "hj & anniversary fluff." hope you like it 💕

As a child, your teachers would scold you for covering your school papers with little hearts and stars, but now as an adult, you looked proudly at the perfectly shaped twelve chalk hearts you had spent the last thirty minutes drawing. Each one symbolized a month you shared with Hongjoong since the two of you started dating — a big deal for you.

He didn’t know you were about to pick him up from his private lessons. Officially, the two of you planned to meet at the park to look the local cherry blossoms together and buy some snacks on the way. You checked the time again and pulled out the box with the little cake you baked with the help of your mom. It was decorated with hearts, a ‘happy first anniversary,’ and a squirrel made of marzipan.

When you sent Mingi a photo, he teased you that it looked more like a dog, but you were confident your boyfriend would know.

You inhaled deeply, trying to calm your racing heart because this was a little sappy, and you couldn’t change but feel embarrassed. It didn’t help that a woman came out first, giving you a frown before she walked off to her car.

A few minutes passed, and you stood there somewhat lost with your cake before finally, the guy who stole your heart stepped out.

“Surprise,” you called, holding the cake more forward.

Hongjoong stood there, confused for a moment, but as always, it quickly changed to excitement and surprise as he walked over to you.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the park?” he chuckled, his eyes looking fondly at you before paying attention to the hearts on the street and your cake.

It wasn’t a secret that cooking wasn’t something you enjoyed; spending time baking was likely proof of your love.

“You are so cute, you know! I’d love to take a photo, but you will pout at me, won’t you?” Hongjoong teased, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“Yes, because you will post it in your friend group chats, and that’s so embarrassing,” you mumbled a little.

“I just like to make them jealous; nothing wrong with bragging about how cute and amazing my significant other is.”

It was hard to resist him with that excited smile that never failed to get to you, and you carefully handed the cake to him.

“Mom helped me a little, no reason to brag there, but we went with your favorite flavors and all of that! I brought forks too; we can eat it under the cherry trees.”

Hongjoong, a born artist, carefully moved the cake in his hands, and you could feel how you got a little nervous, but after a moment he nodded.

“Let’s hope there won’t be any angry squirrels; they might be confused why I eat one of theirs. This looks quite like the one I met the other day there."

You chuckled and shook your head as you placed the cake back into the box and looked at him. “I am sure they would understand.”

Hongjoong rested his hand against your cheek. “I am sure they will. Maybe they are more jealous than scared. How many people get hearts and a cake for their first anniversary? Even more so since you are all mine, best gift ever..”

Now there was his teasing grin, and he pulled you closer.

“I loved this surprise, thank you, Y/N. In six months, it’s my turn. I promise I’ll make it something special.”

As you were about to kiss, drops of rain suddenly fell from the sky. They didn’t announce that change in the weather at all. So mean! Couldn’t it have waited just a few more hours?

You looked with disappointment as your hearts were washed away, but suddenly, an umbrella opened over your head, and Hongjoong smiled at you.

“Sounds like you finally get an excuse today to cling tightly to my arm while we go for a romantic walk — just the two of us, a little bit of rain, and cherry blossoms. We will definitely look better than all those people on the TV.”

“I love the sound of that,” you smiled and curled your arms around him, making sure your bag was tucked underneath the umbrella. Hongjoong kissed your lips for a moment before the two of you walked down the road leading to the park.

And while everyone was rushing, trying to escape the rain, the two of you took all the time in the world, in your little bubble where a little bit of rain was more enjoyable than annoying.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

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!

[merakiui]

👀 bad endings for the idol au you say? I am intrigued~

-🦩anon

👀 allow me to share with you the bad endings.

(cw: yandere, nsfw, implied dub/non-con, somnophilia, captivity/kidnapping, mention of baby-trapping/pregnancy, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, murder, drugging, mention of torture, implied female reader for some of the scenarios)

For all seven, I think they would find a way to get Rollo out of the way, whether that's by killing him, threatening him, or making you look like a cheater. Rollo is essentially powerless against seven rich and famous idols, who could easily bribe any authoritative figure to keep quiet if he tries to go to the police about any of them.

As for individual endings:

Riddle

✧ he invites you to his hometown under the guise of gathering inspiration for a new song. as his manager, you decide it wouldn't hurt to accompany him. riddle is always pleasant company. he's polite and respectful and quite knowledgeable. he goes into detail about the history of his hometown throughout the flight (which is on a private plane). he tells you of this bakery that you absolutely must visit with him. he tells you how the roses look prettiest in the spring. he tells you of an annual summer festival (something he was never allowed to take part in) that he hopes to enjoy with you. there is no mention of songwriting or inspiration. it truly feels like a date, and when you awkwardly bring this up to riddle he insists this is his creative process. apparently, his creative process also involves you getting kidnapped by a strange man with purple hair and yellow eyes, who relocates you to a house riddle has prepared specifically for the life he'll share with you.

Leona

✧ he'll send his secretary (ruggie) to keep tabs on you as his interest in you continues to grow. it will be ruggie who breaks into your home to kidnap you, and it's ruggie you see when you wake in a nicely furnished home. leona comes home from an interview later that evening, pleased to find you (unwillingly) waiting for him. you'll be kept safe in leona's home. he won't do anything to hurt you, but he does get irritated when you cry and struggle. when ruggie comes to visit babysit, he'll keep you company and cook delicious meals for you while also informing you of how good you have it here. how lucky you ought to feel. it's also ruggie who pays rollo a visit with not-so-kind intentions...

Azul

✧ azul will send his two confidants (dangerous men who have taken over their father's business) to collect rollo. azul's offer is simple: be his for all of eternity and rollo can live. he's even willing to let him leave wound-free. isn't he so generous? depending on your answer, rollo is free to live another day or he's disposed of before your very eyes (a gruesome lesson that burns itself into your retinas forever). if the manager is female, azul definitely baby-traps you. the twins are the ones who punish you when you act out of line or attempt defiance. azul hides his ties to the mafia well. to think he's been a dangerous individual all this time and you never suspected a thing... you get better at begging each time you find yourself at the mercy of the twins. they know just how to mold you to azul's vision.

Kalim

✧ without meaning to, kalim sinks both his and your careers when he publicly announces he's in love with you. his secretary (jamil) had adamantly advised against this very outcome, so now he's left to pick up the pieces and assure the public that kalim is just joking and this was all one big social experiment. when things manage to quiet down (you've been bombarded by media and fans, all threatening you to come forward with the truth, to stop seducing the idols you manage, that you're only after kalim's fortune... these accusations are enough to wear you down, so much so that not even rollo can cheer you up). when jamil approaches you and claims that you should lie low for the time being (it's what kalim's doing), you think it's a good idea. for this reason, you don't think twice when you accept the all-expenses paid tropical vacation kalim gifts you. the island is small, but isolated and owned by his father. you think nothing of the dangers until you find that the only ones who exist on this island are you and kalim, and his secretary doesn't intend to help you no matter how much you cry and beg.

Vil

✧ he ruins your life. new years is an important time. the housewardens were invited to perform for a new years eve celebration and with any party there are bound to be plenty of snacks and drinks. you think nothing of it when vil offers you your beverage of choice, and throughout the evening you drink, and vil offers another glass, and you drink some more. it isn't until your every nerve is alight with hot, sticky desire that you begin to suspect something's wrong. but you're so far-gone that when vil hands you off to his secretary (rook) who brings you back to the hotel you're staying at you can only think of the discomforting heat that overwhelms you. vil has the key to your room and he pays you a visit once the new year has arrived. you've fallen asleep, twisting and turning in bed, and vil slowly peels back the covers. when you find out you're pregnant, you think it's rollo's child. you go the entire pregnancy thinking this. it isn't until you're holding your child and they open their brilliant purple eyes that dread chews through you. maternity leave is the perfect time for a certain mr. hunt to collect his dear vil's beloved.

Idia

✧ he's been cyberstalking you this entire time. there are cameras and microphones scattered throughout your house. he's been privy to every conversation, every late-night tryst, every morning spent wrapped up in rollo's arms. he sees and hears it all, and his envy consumes him. idia will find a way to fake your death so that, while everyone's mourning the untimely loss of their manager, they won't suspect that manager is actually being held captive in idia's house, shackled to his bed. idia's so pleased to have his manager all to himself. there's a lot he's been wanting to tell you and do to you. he seems almost shy when he speaks to you, but he's quick to become giddy the more he talks. rollo is a variable he's considered, but it's best if rollo suffers alone in his grief, never truly knowing what happened to his precious lover. if the manager is female, idia probably gets you pregnant without intending to because he never wears a condom. he thinks doing it raw is so much better. you learn all about idia's gross fantasies the longer you spend in captivity.

Malleus

✧ he'll leave everything behind for you: his career, his companions, his fame. and he'll start anew. malleus will move you into his childhood home, a gothic mansion that sits deep in a desolate part of the forest. you'll be kidnapped by lilia (malleus's secretary and father figure) and when you come to you're lying in a king-sized bed and malleus's bodyguards are standing just outside the door, preventing you from leaving. they keep telling you malleus will be back soon and that's when you'll be free to roam the house at your leisure. you're completely lost. who are these people malleus knows and why is he confining you to this room? you'll later learn malleus is just doing it to protect you and because he's found that fame is meaningless if it excludes you from the picture. from now on, you and him will live happily in isolation. no one knows what became of the idol who mysteriously vanished overnight, but fans and media are fraught with grief. another one who baby-traps manager; lilia is pleased to know he'll get to help raise another young one!

[maeiso-trash]

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.

[zorilleerrant]

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?

[boilingheart]

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.

[pocima]

Curating an aespa remix album because the S in SM stands for “sleeping on opportunities”

aespa are not only a group whose talents, incredible music and polished concepts I’ve appreciated for more than 2 years, but they were also a key in reviving my love for hard-hitting electronic music and discovering new kinds of it. A K-pop group fueling my love for entire EDM subgenres may sound absurd, however you’ll understand what I’m saying if you reassess how much potential they have off of the sound they’ve already built. Through both the fandom’s reach on wonderful producers and my own interest, I took proper deep dives into numerous genres such as hyperpop, UK garage, drum and bass, breakcore, trance and future bass, all genres that aespa have either done or would pull off perfectly. As I took my deep dives, one of the things I learned to appreciate tremendously more is remixes. When I was way younger, I had this misconception of remixes just being crappy badly mixed oontz oontz flips of songs due to the atrocities I would regularly hear on pop radios. Talented producers remodeling already high-quality tracks and showing their own stunning perspectives through their own approaches to music completely changed my mind, and I currently often find myself looking forward to how some of my beloved tunes will be reshaped. Now here I am, making a comprehensive list of my desired aespa remixes that also serves as a list of electronic producers that the girls’ A&R team need to get on their roster. (This list was roughly freestyled after @nayeonline came up with the idea of an aespa remix album, and of course I had to make them a victim of my extensive yapping at the mere thought.) Some of these I discovered through MYs, some of these are my own personal faves that the fandom may be overlooking. Enjoy observing my A&R syndrome, and let this serve YOU as a mini aespacore playlist.

Track 1: Welcome to MY World - Sega Bodega Remix

Sega Bodega is most likely my favorite producer of all time. Aside from his objective immense talent, versatility and inability to make a single track of his any less than superb, his musical style (especially recent songs) is otherworldly; his music lulls you into a higher setting. While the possibilities of the outcome of Sega Bodega producing/remixing aespa are endless, WTMW’s orchestration, harmonies and beauty go hand in hand with Sega’s work in that sense. His touch would take the song into another dimension, from an introduction story to aespa’s real world side to a guided trip all around it. It would be a Kwangya-ified but still earthly version of WTMW.

Below attached is his song Cicada, which gives a hint on what can be done with the guitars in WTMW and how the song could become more electronic and intricate.

Track 2: Next Level - Masayoshi Iimori Remix

A vast majority of the tracks with Masayoshi Iimori’s involvement give me the feel of racing around in a city with neon lights, with a mission to return to my time machine to come back from the future to the present time before it’s too late. Doesn’t this description fit Next Level like a glove? Iimori could make Next Level more punchy, which is perfect for the confidence of the Kwangya rider anthem, with his “mixed and mastered on a BlackBerry in the best way possible” sound adding to the daring, cosmic atmosphere. He definitely needs to be involved in aespa’s Japan debut and quite frankly, he’s not an unrealistic pick even for SM.

Below attached is Freedom Kingdom by 4s4ki feat. Swervy, produced by him, which is my favorite example of his frequent trance incorporation and use of gritty motor-like synths. Spoiler: this will not be Miss 4s4ki’s only appearance in this post.

Track 3: Savage - A.G. Cook Remix

In all honesty, I don’t believe this needs much elaboration. This man is considered the father of hyperpop, one of the genres aespa are the most influenced by and certainly a genre they could take more advantage of. Savage, the song that solidified aespa as experimental trendsetters in K-pop, becoming more of an outrageous banger than it already is with the A.G. Cook touch, would be a K-pop moment going down in history books.

The track attached below, produced by him, summarizes my vision for a gritty, banging dream Savage 2.0.

Track 4: Drama - umru remix

Let’s preface this with a fun fact: umru’s splice pack was put to good use in Savage, confirmed by the song’s producers and umru himself! His involvement would transform the twinkling, forceful, electric Drama into an even more hardcore anthem. The synths in the song’s chorus already catch your attention before you’re able to catch your breath after the beauty of the intro and verses, and making all the instruments hit even harder would be a move that totally suits aespa to the core.

Below attached is umru’s take on Fire Truck by SG5, which is one of my favorite productions by him and one of the most hard-hitting of his too. I recommend comparing all the remixes in this post to their respective originals to get a better sense of how these producers can change the tracks.

Track 5: I’ll Make You Cry - Iglooghost Remix

From the 8-bit synths to the sudden kicks and claps and the video game finale soundtrack vibes, I’ll Make You Cry and Iglooghost’s production go hand in hand. If I were to pick a word to describe the style of his work, without hesitation, it would be “cyber-sigilism”, and he converts it into sound like no other. I’ll Make You Cry could become more even more mystic and mellow, making aespa’s darker side visible once again. (Word to SM: this is how you expand aespa’s range instead of making an EDM-based group release country song demos.)

Below attached is Iglooghost’s take on Crybaby by ABRA, and if this is what he can do to the original Crybaby (love both and please listen to both versions), that IMYC remix would be something never seen in music, let alone K-pop. I also highly suggest checking out his own work to understand the sigilism bit better.

Track 6: Yeppi Yeppi - Giga/Reol Remix

When I first listened to Reol last March, specifically starting off with the Kinjitou album, “I have to make this woman collab with aespa one way or another” was the second thought to cross my mind. Her and Giga, the producer she works with the most frequently including on Kinjitou, have kept their high spots on the list of Japanese artists I NEED to see working with aespa ever since. Giga’s production is fun, bouncy and radiant, allowing Reol’s expressive songwriting and masterly vocals to shine. I don’t need to mention who else has top-tier production and vocals, you already know who this entire post is dedicated to. The duo, who are also some of the most well-known in Vocaloid/utaite communities, creates pure pop excellence, some of which I’m still convinced were created FOR aespa, to the point I’m genuinely surprised they’ve never mentioned our beloved girls. Reol, I know you’ve been streaming aespa’s music, don’t be shy, at least give them a follow on IG or something.

Kinjitou the title track is Yeppi Yeppi’s older sister and there’s not a single soul that can convince me otherwise. Just tap on the Youtube embed and see for yourself. These two could do WONDERS on Yeppi Yeppi itself. The even crazier instrumentals, and a Reol feature on top? A dream. I also HAVE to see an aespa-ified Kinjitou, to the point where I made a whole line distribution of how they would sing it. At this point I’m begging SM to steal my ideas verbatim. I’d still like a check though.

Track 7: Illusion - 4s4ki remix

Two scrolls through my account and you’ll immediately know I am THE aespa x 4s4ki truther. President of aes4ki nation. aes4ki priest who has converted three people so far into believers of their joint supremacy so you know it’s tried and tested. 4s4ki and aespa are musical soulmates: the mixture of cybercore and ethereal real world aesthetics and mind-blowing composition on every single song and the lyrics ranging from game/fiction themes to genuine confrontations of virtual worlds to love and sorrow and recovery and the artistry and excellent execution are some incredible traits they have in common as musicians. About Illusion specifically, well firstly I just know that 4s4ki, openly a gamer and anime nerd, would have so much fun working on a song about a virtual snake slurping up some heroines, and she’d eat up aespa’s lore in general. Second, her use of autotune somehow makes her vocals magical and she’s very unafraid to take risks when it comes to music. Illusion’s voice filters, the bass, the surreal atmosphere and that hyper-cosmic feel would be so much more elevated and outrageous with her involvement. If we can’t get a whole album produced by her (I NEED IT SO BAD) at least make this happen. Besides, it would be an incredible full-circle moment for 4s4ki herself, as she has a history of songwriting and producing for others pre-debut, and now she’d be doing it with infinitely much more confidence in her skill and vision.

Now introducing you to into the darkness, my personal fave song of hers and my most played song of 2023. Look at the album cover and listen for yourself. I swear I could praise this woman all day, but I’ll leave it at saying artists like THIS is what aespa deserve, nothing less. MYs, stop what you’re doing and listen to the Killer in Neverland album right now if you haven’t, and you will thank me later.

Track 8: Thirsty - Donatachi Remix

There are artists who just know the recipe to fun, exciting, girly yet still intriguing pop music and Donatachi is a producer who undoubtedly mastered exactly that. Thirsty already has the bubbliness and joy you could ask from a summer jam so why not double it with this remix? This would be perfect to amplify aespa’s ‘00s spy cartoon-coded colorful real world side, and Donatachi is also a perfect choice for this if you take into account his bright cartoon-avatar 3D visuals. aespa’s real world aesthetics and soundscape should definitely be utilized and expanded to truly fit how surreal their concept is.

Below attached is b2b heartbeat feat. Cowgirl Clue, demonstrating the upbeat drum patterns and euphoric feel that could also be used in a Thirsty remix.

Track 9: Trick or Trick - Safety Trance Remix

Trick or Trick is the trick-or-treat anthem MYs deserved, and a remix of it needs to maximize its spookiness while setting it apart from all the familiar creepy-ish K-pop songs. Safety Trance brings his grimy industrial genre-bending sound wherever he goes, which hits the target of creating a more experimental, haunting version of the track. Additionally, as reggaeton and dembow influences become increasingly wide-spread in K-pop, a techno-infused neoperreo take on the wave is the most fitting choice for aespa. With the lead of a prominent figure in the electronic neo-reggaeton scene, the execution of this would turn out flawless.

Below attached is his remix of Incredibly Annoying by VTSS. One of my favorite examples of his consistent style and shows how all-in Trick or Trick could possibly go.

Track 10: Better Things - Florentino Remix

You might be wondering why I chose to give Better Things yet another remix when we already have like 3 of those. Of course the existing remixes are wonderful in their own ways, and the Tropkillaz one is my personal favorite due to its blending of funk, however there’s always room for a full-on Brazilian funk Better Things mix, especially if it’s produced by Florentino. Florentino works with and often seamlessly fuses many genres I have a soft spot for as you could tell, including deconstructed club, neo-reggaeton, baile funk, jungle, breakcore and grime. With such a concoction, the summer anthem could become more distinctive and timeless than it already is.

Below is Florentino’s remix of the adored Nice To Meet You by PinkPantheress, adding in glitchy UK bass, jungle and classic funk drums and grime. The vision for the Better Things remix is crystal clear.

Now, I want to end this post by talking about fans’ wishes for aespa’s future sonic direction. I find many MYs wanting aespa to release hyperpop albums or stick to hyperpop, and while I understand that it’s the bare minimum after the horse girl harmonicas and meemaw ballads that somehow make their way into their God forsaken EPs, even this is nowhere near what’s beneficial for the group in the long-term. Again, aespa have this lingering (thankies to SM 😒) potential to be a multi-faceted EDM group and have one of, if not the, most sophisticated, one-of-a-kind discographies in all of K-pop. It is crucial for them to explore all these EDM subgenres and more instead of getting swayed by shallow trends that come and go. That’s the way to becoming a truly futuristic group that will stand the test of time.

Thank you for reading some of what I got off my chest. Show some love to Drama and Trick or Trick. Being an aespa fan is not for the faint hearted though.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

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.

[nevarroes]

Hey there! I saw your post about feeling down on yourself for “just being another fandom creator” and wanted to take the time to explain what I think makes you spechail a unique! (At least to me personally <3) I do not even own a copy of bg3 (or any of the previous baulders that may or may not exist) but I fallow you so I am frequently shown other peoples gortash art etc. but I never find myself interested, on the other hand your self destructive little body builder man IS one of my BIGGEST comfort characters right now. Not because of his affiliation with a popular game but because I see myself in him, because I care about his struggles and his ups and downs, I get a huge boost when I see you post every day not cause I’m looking forward to fandom content but cause I WANNA KNOW HIW MY FAVORITE CELEBRITY COUPLE IS DOING GODDAMN IT!!! I want to see the interactions and nuances you have built. I want to see them struggle at love, I want to see them fuck I want to see them grow emotionally despite themselves!(I wanna watch gort become a sphere). I can quite honestly tell you I am incapable of give it a flying fuck about cannon gortash cause yours is more interesting and far more endeared to me. I do not particularly care about the world of baulders gate because there is no Cas makeing everyone around him uncomfortable with his socially responsible behavior.

As far as I am concerned you have made a world separate from the original property. A fascinating and nuanced world where a hunky gremlin can find love through his toxic egomaniacal fetishistic behavior. And I love him and you for it!

And as an artist who sometimes dose fanart of popular properties (and used to be locked into a neich fandom) I understand thinking people only like your work because it’s “from that one thing”. It’s an awful feeling. But I can say with confidence that I like your work for the impeccable balance of story and kink that YOU specifically bring to YOUR work, and for that psychosexual nightmare of a beefcake you cooked up in your beautiful brain!!

You have made a unique and complex character, that at least one person out there can see themselves in! Which as far as I’m concerned means you are one hell of an artist!

With all the love a tired old cartoonist like me can give.

Keep up the amazing work.

A ton of us love Cas for Cas, and your art for you <3

Ps: I’m sorry that was long I’m just passionate, I don’t understand or really want to under bg3 but your art just got me though one of the worst months of my life, like fired from job loved one in the hospital bad, your horny and yet emotionally complex art is out here saving lives and doing gods work man.

wow, I honestly don't even know where to start responding to this so just... thank you, truly. As genuine as possible this means so much to me. Not ashamed to say I read this more than once today to get my mind off things so thank you so so much for taking the time to send this to me, it'll be on my mind for a while.💜

[mxstball]

Rachel's Birthday

"I hope you two do not mind, but--" Rachel smooched both of her lovers. "--I will be spending the day with my sister and my other children for the day."

That is acceptable.

Rayquaza leaned in and licked one side of Rachel's face.

"I assume that they prepared something special for your birthday?" Aphrodite-Zygarde smooched the other side.

"That is right. My sister-in-law also requested for me to appear. She has a gift for me it seems."

I see. Then, I will start my preparations for your cake when you leave. Perhaps you would not mind a small celebration when you return.

Rachel shook her head. "The fact that you are considerate of my plans and wish to still spend time with me when I return is grace enough. Thank you, my love."

"I... would help with baking but..." Aphrodite shook her head. "Such is better left for Rayquaza."

Rachel giggled. "Just your time with us is enough, my dear." She bowed. "Now, I must be going. I will see you two soon, yes?"

Both dragons nodded and waved as Rachel turned around and started flying away. Once she was out of sight, Rayquaza almost immediately got to work to cook.

---

Meanwhile in Babylon, Leah was sitting in her chamber alongside Dinah. "Y'know, love, while I still do trust you, it's just..." she sighs. "I still just can't help but worry about her reaction."

"Dinah understands." Dinah nodded. "However, this is important to her, and important to the eldest daughter."

"But you didn't invite Jeanne."

"That is because Jeanne's birthday is in two days, and Dinah already has plans for her."

"I see. Alright, then."

Just as they were wrapping up, Rachel appeared.

"I am here, as you requested sister. Happy birthday by the way."

Leah smiled. "Happy birthday to you too, Leah~. And hello there, Dinah."

"Good day, Rachel. Happy birthday."

Rachel giggled, but then paused as she looked around. "Hm... where are Diego, Pierre, and Andrea?"

"Oh, they'll be here soon, sis." Leah nodded. "I sent them off with Maggie to wake up Rebecca. You know how she is when she's deep asleep."

"I... don't, actually. I haven't met her yet." Rachel blinked.

"Oh. Right. Well, you will soon enough. For now, we wanted to give you your present now if that's alright."

Rachel nodded. "Sure. What is it."

"It is behind you, Rachel." Dinah pointed ahead of her and past Rachel. "Dinah knows that it would be... quite the present this year."

"..?" Rachel turned around. Just what could it be to have Dinah be so confident about--

"It is good to see you again... All-Mother." Isis walked forward as she waved. "It appears that Leah was telling the truth."

"I--Isis!!!!?" Wait. Wait. But-- but rachel's world was destroyed! How did-- how did her Ho-Oh get here!?

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

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…

[libraryledge]

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.