#I did a mix of improvizing clothes and making up my own

[fuumiku]

What if we were both kids who had become entangled in dangerous things beyond our understanding, and you just want to be loved and take great care in upholding a cute persona to be liked, and I just want to be loved and uphold a persona to seek it through shallow relationships and being desired, and while you were protected and became a protector I was harmed and became harmful. What if we both need to be needed. What if we both craved attention and were overly willing to give it. What if we’re both sidelined and dismissed and whereas I came to loathe the world and want it reduced to ashes you see beauty in it everywhere, what if you brought me understanding and elation, an actual connection that I hadn’t had since my life became a cycle of pain and trauma and acting. What if I said I hated butterflies because they act all pretty and fancy but without their wings they’re actually really ugly, and you told me that they had to live as ugly caterpillars before earning their pretty wings. What if I was a caterpillar and you were a butterfly and I love you but I hate you but I love you but I hate how you might leave me. What then.

"When I’m with you I feel like a kid again." Alois just stab me, it’ll be less painful than hearing you say this to Lizzie

At first in my drafts I had these lyrics of Someone to Stay written all around them but if you’re not in an intense aloizzy mindset it looks crazyyyyy lol. I still made it an alt version and put it under the keep going line though. Also I made them wear each other’s eye color hehe, blue and green <3 Oh yeah man the sketch for this was from yearssss ago and the lineart it’s gotta have been a solid year as well… Look I just have tons of wips and I’m a slow artist. But yesss this is one of my guilty pleasure OTPs… Even as a kid I was a rarepair shipper gbdgdg. So uh this is my obligatory aloizzy post!! There will be more, hopefully

Fic recommendation!! Ice into intimidation is visceral and childish and timeless and universal. It touched me as a 11 years old and my appreciation for it has only grown as I became less and less childishly innocent like Lizzy and more acquainted with the horrors of the world that Alois has lived and seen. THIS FIC Y’ALL. CHANGED MY NEURONS. It’s like bruised ribs, an all-encompassing hug that softly hurts. It probably influenced my tastes in ships and fiction a lot gdbgdgd. I will never recover from it being discontinued, I will forever dream and wonder about what could have been. They’re so tragic. I’m gonna draw so much fanart of this fic when i can. Like just for his post I took the opportunity to go back and read the "butterflies are ugly" scene and the last chapter and many more excerpts and it makes me go rabid it makes me on the verge of tearssss, I could make a whole essay about this fanfic… Though! CW for ptsd, but otherwise it’s all very implied and not told. If you’ve seen the season and Alois’ character you know you have to prepare for actual dark shit. The fanfic isn’t graphic at all as I said, but if you know Alois’ backstory you know. As mentioned I did read this as a 11 years old and the dark stuff flew over my head it’s chill 👍

My aloizzy playlist!! I have a longer one but it’s 16+ because of aforementioned dark themes and I don’t wanna post it here. If you’re curious about some of my other playlist picks though, I recommend Appetite of a People Pleaser & Hansel by Soddiken

For better or for worse i don’t know But for what it’s worth I made you my whole world

— October passed me by, by Girl in red

[kat-mobile]

Hey love ❤️ hope you’re doing good

Can I request Tommy with a gentle, empathetic and sensitive reader please. It was an arranged marriage and he found out his new wife would cry herself to sleep over a book she read or just a cat. His reaction to someone who is completely opposite of him

Thank you in advance ✨

Tommy with a wife who's his complete opposite

A/N: Hey baby, thanks for the request!! I'm doing good and I hope you are too ❤️ I forgot to put on the requests post to specify if you want it as a fic or headcanons so I've made it sort of a mix of the two, hope that's okay anon. I made this blog to try and improve my writing skills and as this is my first attempt it isn't the best, so sorry about that lol. Hope you like it!! (this is set sometime around series 1-2 cause those are my fave)

It was an arranged marriage and to be honest... you weren't particularly thrilled by the notion of being married to Birmingham's most known and feared gangster. But you would do anything for your family and if your father decided that this is what would be best for securing the future of the family then you'd follow through on your part of the deal, even if it seemed like you and Tommy had absolutely nothing in common.

This was a couple months ago now and you had somewhat settled into your new life in Small Heath and with Tommy by your side, the two of you living in comfortable tandem. You had settled into a routine and life was good, or as good as it could be with the risk of being married to a Shelby.

He would buy you any book that you so much as happened to glance at and in turn you would patch up and sew back together any unfortunate pieces of clothing that got in the way of Tommy and his dangerous life style and work, fighting back tears and worrying at your lower lip as you did so. You may not quite understand why he was constantly putting himself in danger but he was your husband all the same and you had grown to love him as your marriage progressed

you would also force him to go and see an actual trained medical professional whenever he came home with said ruined clothing, as a dead husband is less than ideal and you have grown attached these last couple months

Your empathy and tendancy to cry over him when he got hurt was a shock at first but he quickly got used to it, he even tried to avoid getting hurt just so as to not have to see you cry over him

He may not say it outright but he appreciates everything you do and how much you care for him

He doesn't like to keep secrets from you but he doesn't share all aspects of work life with you as he doesn't want you to worry too much, but if being kept in the dark would worry you even more he'd make an effort to keep you in the loop

Your gentleness and compassion is a welcome contrast to his life from before you were apart of it, Tommy didn't know that he needed it before you

If there's one thing about Tommy Shelby, it's that he protects what's his and as his wife he treats you with the utmost care (especially if you have a tendancy to seek out the good in all people)

One night when Tommy (finally) came to bed he found you curled up in a ball on your side with your back to the door, tears gently running down your smooth cheeks

Unsure of what to do when confronted by your distress but still wanting to help, he'd rush to your side and scoop you up onto his lap, holding you close with your tear-stained cheek pressed against his chest and an arm thrown protectively around your shoulders. He'd cautiously rock back and forwards whilst his hand moves slowly up and down your back in what he hopes is a soothing motion. He's a little awkward and stiff but damn if he isn't fucking trying

He'd use his forefinger and thumb to tilt your chin up and force your eyes to meet his own before softly questioning you on why you were crying

"What you crying for, hmm love? Ruining your pretty face"

He'd say, wiping away your tears with his thumb

Upon hearing that the reason for your tears was a sad ending to one of the books he bought you he'd be a little taken aback and he would honestly have to suppress the urge to laugh

It all seemed rather silly to him that you'd cry over some words on paper

"Tommy it isn't funny, it was really upsetting" you'd hiccup out through your tears

he'd just shake his head and sigh, apologising, before pulling you closer, finally laying down on the bed with your legs intertwined

Tommy had hoped it would be a one of chance but when he caught you crying in bed again over the ending of Of Mice and Men, he very quickly figured that he'd have to adapt

Tommy developed a system for when you had your... shall we say moments, he'd sit down on his side of the bed with his back pressed against the headboard before he lifted you up and placed you in-between his legs

Sitting you so that your back was resting against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat

You would then explain to him the sad moments in your books as he softly hummed and nodded his head along to your words

And when he got tired from your quiet voice lulling him to sleep he'd pull you down with him as he laid on his side, caging you in against his chest with an arm around your waist

Those were the nights that he slept the best

[vrystalius]

Hihi! Firstly, I love your writings. For English not being your first language, I would not have guessed. Your English is brilliantly used and translated throughout. Secondly, I did have an ask, but I do want to put it out there that I am only now finishing the Hashira Training Arc. (Also, thank you for the heads up on the Sanemi post about it being after Infinity Castle...I have it marked to read after I get through that Arc :D ). Okay, so actual ask: Ahem, could I possibly ask/somehow con you into doing a short or head cannon with either Sanemi or Kyojuro having an s/o with confidence anxieties; like a family that always told them they would never be good enough kind of thing? If this is a no, no worries. It's kind of darker so I get it but I was just curious. Thank you for your works and your time. I look forward to reading your new things as they come :)

❔Confidence issues

You have don’t have enough confidence to become a swordsman. What does your S/O think?

Note: Thank you so much for requesting and liking my works! Compliments like these really make my day <3 I hope you don’t mind that I added Yorichii. You didn’t tell me about kind of confidence anxieties you’d like me to write about, so wrote it about becoming a swordsman against your family’s wishes and them disapproving heavily. I hope you enjoy anyway!

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Yorichii x gn!reader

(Heavy Spoilers for Yorichii’s backstory in Yorichii’s part)

💚 Sanemi Shinazugawa 💚

What? You don’t have the confidence to become a demon slayer? Seriously? You’re one of the most talented slayer- no- person Sanemi ever met! And you dare to doubt your own abilities? C’mon now.

“The fuck are you even talking about? Are you serious right now?”

Sanemi is feeling a mix of utter confusion and anger towards you for being insecure. He’s seriously baffled at where you even got the idea of from. Whatever you did amazed him: your fighting, your clothes (even if you are wearing the uniform, it just fits you much better than anyone else), your breathing style, your hobby, the way you walked or even talked to him, in his eyes you are beautiful and amazing.

He’d confront you about it. Where’d you get this idea even from? But after finding out that your insecurities mainly were because of your family’s nagging and disapproval, Sanemi got furious. You’ll need to either talk him out of beating your relative’s ass or hold him back by tackling him to the ground and THEN talk him out of it.

Now, from this day on, Sanemi will try his best to make you more confident in yourself. In his eyes, you are the most perfect and talented person. Sanemi feels like he should the one who should feel insecure. You’re so patient and understanding with him and you manage to calm him down by just simply touching his arm, it’s almost embarrassing. You are so absolutely gorgeous to him in every way. He feels like he doesn’t deserve you in any way.

Sanemi is not the biggest fan of you wanting to join the Demon Slayer Corps, but he’ll encourage you to keep training and fighting anyway. He’ll make time in his day to train you personally and to spar with you, making sure to point out your improvement.

“Hey, you’re even faster than yesterday! Keep this up and you’ll beat my ass in no time! You’re doing great.”

❤️‍🔥 Kyojuro Rengoku ❤️‍🔥

You’re so funny! You? Not confident in your skills or talents? Hahaha!

…

Wait. You’re not joking?

“But my flame, what made you think that? You’re almost as strong as the other hashira!”

Kyojuro’s first reaction was to laugh at your face. Surely you were joking! Your breathing technique is controlled and powerful and your slashing is accurate and swift. If you’d receive proper hashira training, you’ll be on his level in no time! Demons will sense your presence from a mile away!

But after seeing how your face faded into frown, Kyojuro silenced himself immediately. He apologises loudly and bowed to you. You are so talented and powerful, he seriously thought you were joking! What made you think like this in the first place? Did someone upset you? If so, he’d need a word with them!

After finding out your insecurity stems mainly from your family, he’ll suggest to speak to them. Kyojuro believes he can teach them wrong by pointing every single perfect thing about you. But if he did, he’d be there all day and night.

But if that’s not what you want, he’d totally understand. Kyojuro would then continue point everything perfect and talented about out to you instead! You need to see yourself from his perspective! You are good enough, you are loved and you are talented!

And he did so until you had to physically stop him with either a kiss or shoving food into his mouth.

Kyojuro means well. He wants you to see yourself the way he sees you: his talented, amazing and beautiful partner. From this day on, he’ll make sure to compliment you every day and on whatever you are doing. Even if it’s a little silly.

“Your kisses are especially tender today! Your affections set my heart ablaze, my flame!”

Bonus:

☀️ Yorichii Tsugikuni ☀️

Yorichii understands where you are coming from. He feels the exact same way, since his father beat it into his skull every day: He’s a failure, shouldn’t have been born and that he should’ve killed him at birth, regardless about how much his mother protested.

He is incredibly self-doubting and insecure himself, wich only increased after loosing Uta so brutally and his brother to Muzan’s luring. He is a person not worth remembering and not worth of being called a demon slayer, perhaps not even worth living. So it surprised him that you expressed similar insecurities.

“My sun, you are a very capable slayer. If not for you, we wouldn’t have beheaded this many demons together, and I surely would’ve struggled on my own.”

Yorichii would talk to you about your insecurities. Why do you feel this way? What made you think this? How can he show that you are wrong?

All of the sudden you tell him that him being such a strong slayer, in addition to your family’s behaviour and words, made you so insecure. Yorichii feels terrible for being partly responsible of making you feel even more insecure.

Yorichii a very quiet man, preferring to listen rather to talk. But for you, he’ll try to speak up more. The way you just swung your sword at the demon, that was excellent sword-handling. Your foot movement you did back there was very impressive, he should learn from you. Your cooking is excellent, this is now his new favourite dish. Your craftsmanship, no matter if you sketch, write or whatever, looks very well made and beautiful.

“You look very beautiful today, my light. Could you show me your stance from yesterday? I’d like to learn from you.”

💠

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed. I would also like to credit my cat as a co-author.

My masterlist for the hashira.

My masterlist for the demons.

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

[virtualreader]

birthday present

rickgrimesxfem!reader

summary: you weren't expecting anyone to remember that today was your birthday, and definitely did not expect a certain cowboy to give you not one, but two birthday presents.

word count: 1,2k.

genre: smut (and a little bit of fluff)

warnings: p in v (unprotected), fingering, sensory deprivation, praising.

a/n: this is my first time writing smut, I know I have a lot of scope for improvement, so feedback is certainly appreciated.

+18 content below, minors dni, nsfw, please do not read it if you're uncomfortable with this topic!

"C’mon, take it. I got it for ya," Rick insisted, handing you the small box. The messily wrapped newspaper sheet was held in place by a delicate blue ribbon, which attempted to form a bow on top of it.

You were always living in a daze, with no sense of time. However, Rick was surprisingly able to keep track of the days and make sure to surprise you every year with a small gift. Some years, it would be a bouquet of flowers, and other years it would be a small trinket that he had picked up on one of his runs. Regardless of what it was, it always brought a smile to your face and made you feel loved.

You couldn't help but wonder how he managed to keep track of the calendar when you could barely remember what day of the week it was. But that was just another one of the many little mysteries that made him such a special person to you.

You carefully untied the ribbon and unwrapped the newspaper to reveal a small, silver necklace. The pendant on the necklace was in the shape of a cowboy hat, a nod to Rick's own hat that he always wore and which now belonged to Carl. You smiled, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift.

"Thank you, Rick. This is beautiful," you said, putting on the necklace and admiring the way it caught the light. Rick grinned, pleased with your reaction.

"Well, I couldn't let your birthday go by without getting you something," he replied. "But that's not all. I've got one more surprise for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blindfold.

He covered your eyes with the cloth, tying it loosely behind your head. Normally the darkness would be something scary, not knowing what’s around you or what could happen next, but you had to admit that in these circumstances it pretty much turned you on.

You felt Rick’s hand on your arm, guiding you through the house. He closed the door of what you supposed was your bedroom behind him. And before you could even ask what was going on he put your hand on his throbbing budge.

You gasped in surprise, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Rick, what…?" you started to say, but he interrupted you.

"Happy birthday, darlin'," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "I wanted to give you something special this year."

You felt his lips on yours, and you couldn't help but lose yourself in the moment. The blindfold made everything feel more intense and intimate, and you were grateful for the darkness that allowed you to focus solely on the sensations coursing through your body.

As he pushed you down onto the bed, you could feel the intensity of his passion emanating from his movements. Rick's desire was palpable as he moved frantically on top of you, his body consumed by lust.

Briefly pulling away, he hiked up his shirt, revealing his taut, muscular abdomen. With your hands pinned up against the bedhead, you felt a shiver run down your spine as Rick's mouth found the sensitive skin of your neck. His tongue teased and tantalized your skin, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

“We’re going to have to work on keeping you still, baby.” he rasped against your neck as you wiggle under him.

The grip on your hand tightened, and the old bed squeaked along with your motion, creating a melody you completed with your purring.

His hands traveled to your pants, muddy from the gardening labors you were in charge of, and got rid of them, and continued to undress you until your body was completely exposed to his feverish gaze.

He took a moment to contemplate your body after he had relieved himself of his own clothing, damn, you looked so pretty subdued to his control. His tongue danced over your nipples, and the moan that escaped your mouth in response made Rick smile boastfully.

As you were about to complain, he interrupted you with a stern grunt and ordered you to open your mouth. Caught off guard by his sudden demand, you hesitated. He then slid his fingers into your mouth and used your saliva to lubricate them.

He spread your legs and pushed the two fingers inside you, causing you to gasp in pleasure. He moved them slowly at first, but gradually picked up the pace, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. You moaned in ecstasy, your body writhing beneath him as he continued to pleasure you with his fingers.

Each movement was deliberate and calculated, designed to bring you to the brink of orgasm and keep you there. You pulled your head back, your mouth open as you groaned, your legs stiffening.

As he looked at you, he couldn't help but think about how deliciously wet you was. Your body was practically begging him to do something, and he couldn't resist any longer.

He leaned in close and whispered in your ear, "God, I want you so badly right now." you shivered at his words, feeling a wave of desire wash over you. He continued to tease you, slowly running his fingers up and down your arm, sending chills down your spine.

The blindfold heightened the intensity of the pleasure, making it more satisfying and enjoyable. The lack of visual stimulation allowed the other senses to become more acute, leading to a more immersive experience. The anticipation of not knowing what would happen next added an element of excitement and mystery to the encounter. It added a new dimension to the experience.

“Rick…” you hoarsely begged.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” his deliberate teasing causing you to soak his fingers even more. “Tell me.”

“You,” his fingers leaved your hole. “I want you inside me.”

Next thing you knew, his tip was tentatively brushing your entrance. His barely perceptible touch tingled you, your whole body quivering in anticipation. He slid his hands to your hips, a firm hold on your sides, yet not hurting you. With your leg resting on his bare, broad shoulders he thrusted his cock against your walls, both fitting as key and lock.

Your spasms squeezed his warm rod, bringing him closer to climax. "Such a good girl." he praised you, the sound of your panting filling Rick's ears with satisfaction. His heady scent, more intense than ever, got you higher than drugs.

Finally, when you could take no more, Rick released you, allowing you to come down from the dizzying heights of pleasure. You were left panting and sweating, your body spent from the passionate experience.

You gasped for air, your body trembling from the intensity of the orgasm that had just wracked through your body. You couldn't believe how incredible it had felt, how Rick had managed to bring you such an incredible amount of pleasure. You were completely spent, your body still humming with the aftershocks of the orgasm. Rick lay next to you, his arm draped over your waist felt comforting and safe.

“Just so you know, I turn forty next month”

How could you possibly refuse to gift the man whose smile mesmerized you?

[pretzel-box]

In case I haven't told you: I love you.

Streamer AU Chapter 10 [Finale]

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Established Relationship

Words: 9,4k

Authors Note: This is the official last chapter for this series and my blog. Thank you all for your support.

You sat on a chair at the kitchen counter, tinkering with your new keyboard. All the keycaps were pulled off as you swapped the old, plain ones for a custom set of resin-poured, sparkling caps. You’d spent a small fortune on these, enough to make even Sebastian raise an eyebrow as he walked by to grab a cup of coffee.

"You know, one of those caps could pay for my whole breakfast," he remarked, leaning over your shoulder and picking up one of the keys—the ESC key. It was a deep lapis lazuli blue mixed with a golden hue, with tiny koi fish suspended inside. The tiny keycap was a masterpiece all on its own, and even Sebastian’s gaze lingered a moment longer as he examined it.

You laughed, rolling your eyes as Sebastian inspected the tiny piece of art between his fingers. "I don’t hear you complaining when I splurge on things for you." You teased, nudging his arm playfully.

He smirked, setting the keycap down carefully, but not before his fingers brushed yours, lingering just a moment too long. "True, but I at least pretend to be reasonable about it." He countered, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin.

You arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, is that so? I seem to remember a certain someone nearly buying an entire set of limited-edition streaming lights last month."

He chuckled, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Only because I knew it would make my streamer setup look amazing." His eyes sparkled as he held your gaze, the playful teasing fading just slightly, replaced with something softer, warmer.

"Well." You replied, trying to keep your composure despite the flutter in your chest, "Maybe I got these just to impress my favorite…roommate."

Sebastian laughed, a rich sound that made the moment feel more intimate. "Guess that means we both have good taste, then." he murmured, his fingers still lightly brushing against yours, as if neither of you wanted to pull away first.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you glanced over to the corner of the room, where Sebastian’s laundry basket sat conspicuously overflowing. "Good taste, sure." You replied, smirking. "Though maybe your taste in doing laundry could use some improvement."

Sebastian groaned, leaning back against the counter with an exaggerated sigh. "I knew there was a catch to all this charm."

"You’re lucky I didn’t toss it all in the tub and call it ‘artistic installation.’" You teased, poking him playfully. "But hey, since you’re such a reasonable spender, maybe you can be reasonable about getting those clothes folded sometime this century?"

He raised an eyebrow, smirking as he folded his arms. "Maybe if someone would promise to make dinner while I do it?"

You feigned a thoughtful look, tapping your chin as you eyed him. "Fine. But only if it’s one of those nights where you’re my sous-chef." You said. "You know, like last time, when you almost sliced your finger but made the best pasta I’ve ever tasted."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Deal. Just don’t get too used to me in the kitchen—I don’t want you thinking this roommate thing comes with free cooking classes."

You snickered, leaning a little closer. "Oh, please, you love being my sous-chef. Plus, I think I caught you enjoying it last time."

He shrugged, pretending nonchalance. "Maybe I did." He said, his voice low, his gaze flicking between you and the pile of ingredients waiting on the counter. "Guess I don’t mind spending a little extra time with my favorite chef."

"Alright, hun." You replied, giving him a playful nudge toward the fridge. "Let’s get to work before we both end up ordering takeout."

You pulled out a recipe card, tapping it on the counter thoughtfully as Sebastian finished stacking his laundry basket against the wall. “Tonight,” you announced, “we’re making risotto.”

Sebastian’s face lit up with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Risotto, huh? I thought that was, like, advanced level.”

You gave him a mock serious nod. “It is, but don’t worry—under my expert guidance, I’m sure you’ll rise to the challenge.” You winked, grabbing an apron and tossing one his way. He caught it midair and slipped it over his head, looking surprisingly domestic in the soft light of the kitchen.

The two of you moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients. Sebastian was on vegetable duty, meticulously chopping onions and garlic, his brows furrowed as he concentrated. You snuck a peek at his handiwork, grinning.

“Not bad.” You said approvingly, bumping his shoulder with yours. “I think you’re getting the hang of this.”

“Only because I have an exceptional teacher.” He replied smoothly, flashing you a grin. “Though,” he added with a chuckle, “I’m pretty sure you gave me onions just to make me cry.”

You laughed, watching him chop with surprising finesse. “I have a weakness for pretty boys with tears in their lashes. Onions aside, I think you’re ready to take on the mushrooms.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking at the bowl of fresh mushrooms with a dramatic sigh. “You’re sure this isn’t just you delegating all the tough parts?”

“Maybe.” You said with a smirk. “But also, mushrooms need love, and you seem like the right person for the job.”

While he chopped mushrooms, you turned your attention to heating up a pot of vegetable broth on the stove. The savory aroma of garlic and onion began to fill the kitchen, and you stirred the mixture in a pan, glancing over at Sebastian as he focused intently on his task.

After a while, he leaned over to inspect your progress, watching as you stirred the rice, coating it in the golden mix of garlic, onion, and butter. “Looks like you’re the expert risotto-stirrer.” He teased, resting his chin on your shoulder for a brief moment. “When do I get to try?”

You nudged him with your elbow, laughing. “Soon, sous-chef. I have to make sure it’s just right.”

He watched, fascinated, as you added a ladle of hot broth to the pan, explaining as you went. “See? You don’t add it all at once. You let each addition of broth absorb before adding more. It’s all about patience.”

“Patience?” he repeated, giving you an amused look. “Not exactly my strongest trait.”

You raised an eyebrow, shooting him a grin. “Well, consider this your culinary crash course in patience.”

For the next twenty minutes, you took turns stirring and adding broth, chatting in between as you shared old memories, random stories, and silly jokes. There was something intimate about the process, each of you moving with careful rhythm, enjoying each other’s company in the warm, quiet space of the kitchen.

"Remember that time we played that cooking game on stream with just one arm each? And you fried a rat?" Sebastian laughed, recalling the iconic moment. It was one of your very first streams together.

You gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me! You told me to be culinarily creative for our dear customers."

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter, his laughter warm and unrestrained. "Oh, I remember. How could I forget? You had the chat in absolute stitches when you served that poor pixelated rat like it was a five-star dish."

You placed a hand over your chest, feigning offense. "Excuse me! I was merely following instructions. You explicitly told me to be ‘culinarily creative for our loving customers.’ I just… took it to heart."

Sebastian wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning. "And you succeeded, alright. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so passionate about frying something that was absolutely, one hundred percent not food." He mimed holding a frying pan, doing his best impression of you earnestly plating up the rat. “Gourmet rat, fresh from the chef’s hands.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his impression, remembering how you’d tried so hard to keep a straight face on stream, while the chat had been exploding with laughter. "Hey, I’d like to point out that I even garnished it with a sprinkle of virtual parsley."

"Yeah, and I had to pretend it was edible." Sebastian replied, still grinning. "The things I do for the art of streaming."

With a grin, you shrugged. “Guess it just shows what a great team we make, right? You keep up appearances, and I…” You paused, smirking, “I make the riskiest, most questionable food decisions.”

He looked down at you, his smile softening as he held your gaze. "Yeah." He murmured, "I guess it really does. We’re one heck of a team."

There was a gentle silence, one filled with warmth, as you both let the memories linger, the familiarity and playfulness wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. After a moment, you nudged his arm. "So, cooking game or real life—think you’re ready for another ‘creative’ culinary adventure with me?"

He chuckled, leaning a little closer, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Only if you promise me no rats this time."

At one point, he reached over and brushed a stray bit of flour off your cheek, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. “You’ve got a little something there.” He murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a soft expression that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks.” you replied, your voice a little softer than intended.

With the risotto nearly ready, you handed him a wooden spoon. “Alright, sous-chef. Moment of truth—taste test.”

Sebastian took the spoon from you, giving you an exaggerated nod before taking a careful bite. His eyes lit up as he tasted the creamy, savory dish. “Wow,” he said, nodding appreciatively. “I actually helped make this? Totally doesn't taste like pixel rat.”

“See?” you replied, laughing. “You’ve got more culinary skills than you think.”

He laughed, taking another spoonful. “Okay, I’ll admit, this is pretty fun. You might turn me into a chef yet.”

Together, you plated the risotto, sprinkling a bit of parmesan and fresh parsley on top. You each carried a plate to the small dining table, which you’d quickly decorated with a candle and a couple of mismatched napkins to make it feel a bit more special.

Sitting across from him, you clinked your fork against his with a grin. “To our first official cooking date.” You said, feeling a mix of pride and warmth.

“To the world’s most patient teacher.” He added, giving you a smile that made your cheeks warm.

You ate slowly, savoring not just the food, but the easy conversation and gentle glances shared between bites. Occasionally, he’d sneak his fork onto your plate, taking an extra bite with a laugh as you swatted at his hand.

After finishing, you both lingered at the table, caught in the comfortable glow of shared laughter and the lingering warmth of the meal. Finally, as you stood to clear the plates, Sebastian reached over, gently grabbing your wrist to stop you.

“You know.” he said softly, his gaze holding yours, “I think I’m starting to like cooking. Especially if it means nights like this.”

His hand stayed warm against your skin, and for a moment, you forgot about the dishes, the kitchen, everything around you.

“Well.” you replied with a smile, “Then I guess we’ll have to make it a tradition.”

He nodded, his smile softening as he released your hand, but not before giving it a light, lingering squeeze that promised many more evenings like this one.

The laughter still lingered in the air as you finished washing up from dinner, the lingering warmth from the meal creating a quiet, comfortable bubble around the two of you. Sebastian was drying the last of the dishes, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he talked about what to stream next week, teasing the idea of recreating your infamous “gourmet rat” moment in real life.

But then, a sharp knock echoed from the front door, slicing through the ease of the evening. You both paused, glancing at each other, puzzled by the unexpected sound. Who would be stopping by at this hour?

“I’ll get it.” He murmured, his voice low, as he dried his hands on a dish towel. You watched as he walked toward the door, pulling it open with a curious, cautious expression. But when he looked up, his whole face shifted. There, standing in the dim light of the hallway, were two police officers. Their stern faces were blank, unreadable, and behind them, a few more officers were stationed just outside. The sight of them sent an uneasy chill through you, and your stomach twisted.

“Sebastian Solace?” The officer closest to him asked, voice flat and all business. Sebastian blinked, bewildered.

“Yes? Is something wrong?” He asked, looking back at you as if trying to gauge if you knew anything about this. But before you could even register the question, the officer took a step forward, holding out a pair of handcuffs. It was like a perfect scene from your favourite drama, as if the characters jumped out of the television to fool you.

“Mr. Solace, you’re under arrest on suspicion of multiple homicides.” The officer said, his words like thunder in the silent apartment. “Please turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

The words took a moment to sink in, and when they did, it felt like the air had been ripped from the room. You stood frozen, mouth open, as Sebastian’s face went from confusion to utter shock.

“What?” He stammered, voice thick with disbelief. “There must be some mistake—I haven’t done anything. I don’t even—” But the officer was already reaching for his wrists, pulling them behind his back as he clicked the cuffs into place with a heavy metallic clink that reverberated in the space. The sound was sharp, final.

"Wait!" You exclaimed, stepping forward as panic washed over you. “This is insane! You can’t just—he hasn’t done anything! Sebastian couldn’t—”

The second officer turned toward you, his gaze steely. “Ma’am, I understand this is a shock, but please step back. We have probable cause, and Mr. Solace will be given the chance to explain himself at the station.”

Sebastian’s head turned, eyes wide as they locked onto yours. "I… I don’t know what’s going on," He said, his voice wavering as he struggled to keep calm. "I didn’t… I didn’t do anything." His eyes, usually filled with easy confidence and warmth, were filled with a mixture of confusion and fear, a look you had never seen on his face before.

“I know you didn’t.” You managed, voice choked. “This has to be a mistake. Tell them!”

But the officers were unmoved, beginning to guide him out the door, leaving you standing in the hallway, rooted in disbelief. You reached for his hand one last time, and he turned to you, gripping your fingers tightly, as if that small touch was an anchor. “It’s okay.” He said quietly, though the panic in his voice was clear. “I’ll sort this out. Don’t… don’t worry about me.”

But how could you not? How could you let them take him, when you knew deep down, in every part of you, that Sebastian was incapable of such a thing?

As they led him out, each step growing heavier, you were left alone in the silence, the stillness deafening. Sebastian’s plate was still on the table, his jacket draped over the back of the chair. It was as if he had only stepped out for a moment, and yet, he was gone. You could still feel the lingering warmth of his hand in yours, the echo of his words ringing in your mind.

You stumbled back against the counter, struggling to breathe as the weight of what just happened settled on you. Someone had framed him. Someone had set up this impossible, unfathomable trap, and Sebastian had walked right into it. And now, the life you’d built together—the quiet mornings, the shared streams, the countless inside jokes—all of it hung in the balance.

“Sebastian…” You whispered, gripping the edge of the counter as if you could steady yourself through sheer will. Your mind raced, images of him, terrified and alone, the weight of this false accusation pressing down on him. You had to do something. You couldn’t just stand by while the man you loved was being treated like a monster.

But as you looked around the quiet, empty apartment, you felt the sinking realization that things would never be the same. The warmth and laughter of the evening had been replaced by a cold, harsh reality, one that you couldn’t ignore. And as you stood there, a single, urgent thought echoed in your mind, louder and louder with each passing second. This couldn't be how it ends.

Hours passed in a blur, each moment more surreal than the last. You sat at the kitchen table, hands clutching a mug of tea you hadn’t even touched. The entire apartment was in disarray: Police officers moved from room to room, rifling through closets, drawers, and even the cabinets in search of… what? Evidence of Sebastian’s so-called crimes?

The entire scene felt like a waking nightmare. You watched in despair as they moved into Sebastian’s room, handling his belongings like they were pieces of some sinister puzzle, prying through his private life without hesitation. The familiar warmth and comfort of the apartment was stripped away, replaced by the cold efficiency of strangers treating your life as a crime scene.

“Ma’am?” A voice jolted you from your thoughts. One of the officers, Detective Hall, took the seat across from you, fixing you with a hard, calculating stare. He placed a notepad on the table and flipped it open, pen poised, ready to capture your every word. This wasn't just a small round of questions. It felt like the pen was a gun that he was holding against your forhead, wanting you to say that he wanted to hear and not the truth you believed in.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steel yourself. “I already told you.” You said, voice barely above a whisper, it was slightly shaking from the pressure. Your whole personality crumbled under the sheer panic. “Sebastian didn’t do this. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Detective Hall tilted his head, his lips curling into a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure you want to believe that, but I have to be honest. The evidence suggests otherwise.”

You swallowed, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He’s kind, thoughtful… there’s no way he’d ever—”

“Let’s go over this again.” The detective interrupted, his tone patient yet cold. “You’ve been living with Mr. Solace for some time, yes?”

“Yes.” You answered, nodding slowly. “Some time...”

“And during that time, have you ever noticed anything… unusual about him? Unexplained absences, strange behavior, anything that might seem insignificant but could have been a red flag?”

The question felt like a trap, and you shook your head quickly, heart pounding. “No. Nothing like that. He’s just—he’s always been a good person. A little messy with his stuff sometimes, but that’s it. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Any wrong word could mean Sebastians end. Saying less means providing more support for your boyfriend.

Detective Hall leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Are you sure you’re not trying to protect him? It’s natural to want to defend someone close to you, but sometimes… people can hide dark sides we don’t see.”

“No, you don’t understand—Sebastian’s innocent.” You insisted, feeling the words burn on your tongue. “He wouldn’t—”

“But he did.” Hall’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air with brutal efficiency. He fired the imaginary gun at you with the following statement. “We’ve found DNA evidence at multiple crime scenes that match Mr. Solace’s. His fingerprints, his hair… even traces of his blood.”

The room spun for a moment as his words hit you like a physical blow. You gripped the edge of the table, forcing yourself to process the revelation. DNA evidence? It made no sense. How could that be possible?

“That… that can’t be right.” You stammered, shaking your head in disbelief. “There has to be a mistake. Maybe it’s someone who looks like him, or maybe the samples were contaminated—”

Detective Hall raised a brow, as if amused by your attempts to explain it away. “It’s no mistake. We’ve triple-checked. Mr. Solace’s DNA was found at every single crime scene. This isn’t a matter of chance or coincidence.”

You felt the weight of those words settle heavily, like stones in your chest. This was the kind of evidence that would seal a conviction, the kind of irrefutable proof that would convince a jury. But you knew Sebastian. You knew his heart, his kindness, his gentleness.

“He’s… he’s been with me.” You whispered, half a lie, desperation slipping into your voice. “We’re always together. If he was gone, I would have noticed. He’s not… he’s not capable of this.” There where times, where he was alone. You knew you couldn't cover Sebastian in that part.

„Well, last week, monday evening around 7...Where was he? With you?“ „Well he wasn't with m-“ „Then he wasn't always with you. Listen, we just wanna solve this case. This isn't a witch hunt to spill innocent blood.“ Hall’s gaze softened for a brief moment, as if he pitied you, but his tone was unwavering. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think, ma’am. It’s possible that there are sides to people we love that we never see. You wouldn’t be the first to be blindsided.”

Anger and frustration flared within you, mixed with helplessness as you struggled to find the right words. “No… you’re wrong. You have to be. He’s innocent. I don’t know how his DNA got there, but I know him, and he’s not a murderer.”

Detective Hall sighed, closing his notebook as he got up, leaving you trembling at the table. “I understand this is difficult to accept.” He said, his voice almost condescending. “But it’s better if you start facing the facts. If you think of anything—anything at all—that could help us, I suggest you reach out.”

You watched as he walked away, his words echoing in your mind like a curse. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating in their familiarity. Your hands trembled as you clutched the edge of the table, the mug of tea long forgotten and cold.

Detective Hall’s words echoed in your mind like a haunting refrain. DNA evidence. Fingerprints. Hair. You had fought so hard against the growing sense of dread, clinging to the belief that there had to be some explanation, some way to rationalize it all. But as time passed, the weight of those words settled on your chest, heavy and inescapable.

The more you thought about it, the more the pieces started to come together in a way that made your stomach churn. Sebastian’s late nights spent in the studio, the times he seemed distracted or distant, the odd comments he’d made that you’d brushed off as quirky or eccentric. What if there had been more going on?

You felt your breath quickening, the panic rising in your throat like a tide. The laughter and warmth of earlier days felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the horror that now loomed over you. How could you have been so naive? How could you have trusted him so completely?

Suddenly, it felt as if the walls themselves were pressing in on you, closing around your heart until you could hardly breathe. “No, no, no.” You whispered to yourself, shaking your head furiously. “He can’t be guilty. He wouldn’t… he couldn’t…”

But as you said it, doubt crept into your heart like a dark shadow. The evidence was overwhelming, and deep down, you knew it. There was a part of you that wanted to scream, to deny the truth, but the realization that the person you loved might be capable of something so horrific shattered your defenses.

You stood abruptly, pushing away from the table as your chair clattered to the ground. Your heart raced, and you stumbled into the living room, pacing back and forth as tears began to stream down your cheeks. “Sebastian… how could you?” The question hung in the air, heavy and full of anguish.

You could see his face in your mind—the smile that lit up his eyes, the kindness in his voice, the way he made you feel safe. But now, the image began to twist, tainted by the knowledge that he might be hiding something monstrous. You pressed your hands against your temples, fighting against the overwhelming sense of betrayal that surged within you.

What if the good times had all been a facade? What if he had been playing you all along?

Your legs gave out, and you sank to the floor, sobs breaking free as your entire world collapsed around you. The warmth of the apartment, once a sanctuary, felt like a prison. You buried your face in your hands, the weight of despair crushing you. “I believed in you.” You cried, voice muffled against your palms. “How could you do this to me?”

The sobs wracked your body, and you could feel your heart fracturing with every breath. The pain was all-consuming, a tempest of emotions swirling within you—anger, betrayal, sorrow. You felt utterly alone, abandoned in a nightmare you couldn’t escape.

It felt as if the walls themselves echoed your despair, a cruel reminder that you were trapped in this reality. The tears flowed freely, and you gasped for air, each breath feeling like a betrayal to the love you once held so fiercely. “Sebastian.” You choked out, the name a whisper tinged with heartbreak. “Please tell me this isn’t true…”

But deep down, a seed of doubt took root, a dark whisper that you couldn’t silence. And as you sat there, broken on the floor, you realized with chilling clarity that you might have to confront a truth you were terrified to face. Sebastian’s guilt. The possibility that the man you had loved so completely could be the monster hiding in plain sight.

The thought sent another wave of anguish crashing over you, and you curled into yourself, the weight of despair dragging you down into the depths of an all-consuming darkness.

The days turned into weeks, and the world outside faded into a distant blur. You had once filled your life with laughter and joy, sharing your passions and adventures with Sebastian on stream. But now, the only sound that echoed in the emptiness of your apartment was the relentless ticking of the clock, a constant reminder of the time that had passed since he was taken from you.

Sebastian’s execution had felt surreal, a nightmarish sequence that played out in slow motion. You had sat in the courtroom, heart pounding, as the gavel struck down on his fate, each word from the judge slicing through you like glass. “Guilty.” The word had reverberated in your mind, drowning out everything else. The cheers from those who had come to watch felt like daggers in your back, as you struggled to comprehend how the world could move on when yours had shattered.

In the days following, you had retreated into yourself, cocooning in the memories of what once was. The apartment felt hollow, the air heavy with the absence of his laughter and warmth. You’d tried to continue with your life, but every attempt felt futile. The vibrant colors of your past had drained away, leaving only shades of gray.

You found yourself staring at the walls, the pictures of you and Sebastian hanging like ghosts of a happier time. You avoided the streaming setup, the computer untouched and gathering dust. You couldn’t bear the thought of performing for an audience that had reveled in the spectacle of his downfall. The playful banter, the inside jokes—everything that had once felt like second nature was now suffocating.

It was in this state of isolation that you began to notice the ringing phone, the unknown number flashing on the screen each time. It became an annoyance, a constant reminder of the outside world that you had closed off. You ignored it at first, but as the calls persisted, you felt an overwhelming urge to pick up and shout into the void, to let whoever was on the other end know that you didn’t care. You were done.

“Just let it go.” You whispered to yourself, gripping the phone tightly in your hand, willing it to stop. But it only rang louder, taunting you, as if demanding a response. It felt like a ghost of your past, lingering reminders of what you had lost. You buried your face in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks as you mourned for Sebastian—the man who had filled your life with love, laughter, and joy.

Days turned into weeks, and you often found yourself walking the familiar paths that you had taken together, hoping to feel a connection to him, to find something that could ease the ache in your heart. You walked to the small coffee shop where you’d spent countless mornings, the barista greeting you with a sad smile as if he could see the heaviness in your soul.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently, his voice low as he handed you your usual drink.

You forced a smile that felt hollow. “Yeah, just… missing a friend.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, understanding etched in his features. “Take your time. We’re here for you if you need anything. I'm sure your friend will return soon.”

You returned to the apartment, the silence greeting you like an old friend. It was a comfort and a torment all at once, the echoes of Sebastian’s laughter haunting you at every turn. You stumbled through the rooms, feeling his presence everywhere, yet completely gone. The kitchen was a battlefield of untouched dishes, and the living room still bore witness to the chaos of that fateful night.

And yet, you felt compelled to keep ignoring the outside world. You and Sebastian had built a sanctuary here, and now it felt like a tomb—a space to remember and mourn, but also to be consumed by grief. You couldn’t bear the thought of facing Painter, or anyone else who might remind you of what you’d lost. Their calls went unanswered, your heart too heavy to even think of engaging with anyone.

But one night, as you sat curled up on the couch, a sudden urge struck you. You picked up the phone, thumb hovering over the contact list. It was almost automatic, a reflex driven by a desire to feel connected to someone, even if it was only a shadow of what you had with Sebastian. You clicked on Painter’s name, your heart racing as you prepared to dial. But just as your finger touched the screen, the phone rang again, the same unknown number flashing before you.

You hesitated, a surge of anger rising within you. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?” you cried out into the stillness, your voice trembling with a whirlwind of emotion. You had no strength left to deal with this mystery, this constant reminder of a life that felt irretrievably lost.

With a trembling hand, you answered the call. “Hello?” The word felt foreign on your tongue, like a brittle leaf falling from a tree in autumn.

A pause followed, stretching into an eternity, and then a voice emerged from the silence, dripping with smugness and taunting glee. “A wonderful evening, isn’t it?”

Recognition hit you like a slap, anger and disbelief coiling in your stomach. “Who is this?” You demanded, your heart racing as you tried to mask the tremor in your voice.

“It’s me… Allison.” She said, and you could almost hear the smirk in her tone. “I’ve been trying to reach you. You see, I want to meet you. In person.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The mere mention of her name felt like a punch to your gut. “What do you want?” You spat, the words sharp and laced with hurt, a raw wound that refused to heal.

“Oh, come now.” She chided, her voice honeyed yet poisonous. “You must know by now that I have the information you crave. The kind of juicy details that could change everything. And let’s be honest, you could use a little excitement in your life after all that’s happened.”

You could almost picture her, leaning back in some luxurious chair, a smug smile on her lips, relishing every moment of your turmoil. “What makes you think I’d want to hear anything from you?” You countered, trying to maintain the semblance of strength. But beneath your bravado, you were shaken, your heart aching at the memories that flooded back, memories of trust and betrayal.

“I know you’re hurting.” Allison pressed, her tone shifting, turning almost persuasive. “But the truth is, I hold the keys to unlocking the real story. You think you know what happened? Think again. Sebastian’s innocence? It’s a farce, darling.” She laughed lightly, and it sent a chill down your spine. “You need to hear what I have to say.”

A cold dread settled in your chest, mingling with your fury. How could she speak of Sebastian like that? Your mind raced with confusion and anger, torn between the desire to protect his memory and the nagging curiosity of what she might reveal. “What do you mean?” You demanded, your voice barely a whisper.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m not going to just give it away.” She cooed, her tone patronizing, like she was speaking to a child. “But I promise you, once you hear me out, everything will make sense. This isn’t just about Sebastian. It’s about the bigger picture. The real culprits behind the chaos that’s torn your life apart. And believe me, darling, it’s going to be quite a revelation.”

A sick feeling settled in your stomach as you wrestled with your emotions. You were weary of being trapped in this darkness, of the isolation that suffocated you. But could you trust her? Deep down, you felt that small flicker of hope—the chance that perhaps, just perhaps, she might hold some truth that could change everything.

“Fine.” You said finally, your voice steadying as you took a deep breath. “But this better be good. I don’t have time for games, Allison.”

“Good! Meet me at the park, by the fountain. You know the one. Tomorrow at noon. Come alone.” She instructed, her tone brisk and commanding, as if she knew you’d comply without question.

The line went dead, and you stared at the phone in disbelief, a storm of emotions swirling within you. You felt the shadows of your grief deepen, intertwining with the threads of a truth you had yet to confront. What was she playing at? Was this a trap? But the thought of Sebastian’s name hanging in the air like a ghost pulled at you, urging you to seek answers, no matter how painful they might be.

You spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, the weight of uncertainty heavy on your chest. As the sun rose the next morning, you felt a mix of dread and determination settle in your bones. You had to know the truth, even if it meant facing the very person who had turned your world upside down. You were willing to confront your fears if it meant uncovering the secrets buried in the shadows of your past.

As you prepared to leave, a part of you wondered what you would discover in that conversation. Would it bring you closer to the truth, or would it only lead to more heartbreak? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: You were no longer willing to let fear dictate your life. Today, you would seek the truth, whatever the cost.

The morning air was crisp as you made your way to the park, your heart pounding in your chest with each step. The sun peeked through the branches of the trees, casting dappled shadows on the path ahead. As you approached the fountain, a wave of nausea washed over you. You had no idea what to expect from your encounter with Allison, but the tension was palpable, thickening the air around you.

You spotted her seated on a bench, casually flicking through her phone, the picture of nonchalance. She looked up as you approached, a smile playing on her lips that sent a chill down your spine. “You came.” She said, her voice light as if you were simply meeting for coffee.

“I’m not here to play games, Allison.” You said, forcing your voice to steady despite the tremor in your hands. “What do you want?”

She motioned for you to sit, and despite every instinct telling you to run, you complied, tension coiling in your stomach. “I wanted to talk about Sebastian.” She said, her tone shifting to something more serious. “You need to understand the truth of what happened.”

“The truth?” you echoed, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. “What do you know about the truth?”

Allison leaned closer, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something darker. “Oh, darling, I know everything. I know what you’ve been through, the heartbreak, the isolation. I know you still believe in Sebastian’s innocence.” She paused, savoring your reaction. “But here’s the thing: He’s not innocent. Not in the way you think.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What are you talking about?” You shook your head, trying to deny the implications of her words. “Sebastian would never—”

“Would never what?” She interrupted, her voice rising with feigned innocence. “Kill? You see, it’s easy to point fingers, especially when the truth is so beautifully complicated.” She leaned back, a smirk spreading across her face. “And I should know, because I orchestrated it all.”

A cold dread settled over you, a sickening realization dawning. “You’re lying,” you said weakly, but even as you spoke, the pieces began to click into place. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “I took my time, did my research. I switched out evidence, planted things to frame him perfectly. You see, the cops would never suspect the innocent ex-girlfriend, would they?” Her eyes sparkled with malice. “And I had just the plan to make sure it all fell into place.”

“Why? Why would you do this?” The words came out as a choked whisper, your heart racing as the reality of her confession settled in. “What did Sebastian ever do to you?”

Allison laughed, a cruel, mirthless sound. “Oh, sweetie, it was never about Sebastian. It was about you. I wanted to see you broken, to watch your world crumble. You had everything I wanted—his affection, his attention, his life. I just thought it would be so much fun to take it all away.” She paused, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. “And I must say, it’s been quite the show.”

“Stop it!” You shouted, your voice rising in desperation. “You can’t keep getting away with this. I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell them everything!”

“Oh, but you won’t.” She purred, leaning closer, her voice low and threatening. “Because I’ve already taken care of that. The evidence against Sebastian is airtight. His DNA was at the scenes, his clothes were planted. I even collected hair samples—he won’t be able to escape this.”

You felt your world tilt, your heart racing as the realization hit you. She was right: She had manipulated everything, and there was nothing you could do to stop her. “You’re insane.” You whispered, your body shaking with disbelief. “You can’t just play with people’s lives like this!”

“Why not?” Allison shrugged, her expression unfazed. “Life is a game, and I simply play to win. And right now, you’re just a pawn in my little chess match.”

A shuddering breath escaped you as the weight of her words crushed down on you. “You’re a monster.” You said, fighting back tears.

“Perhaps.” She said, her smile widening. “But I’m the one in control here. And you’re left with nothing but the truth—a truth that will haunt you for the rest of your life. Think of the fun you’ll have trying to navigate this new reality.”

You felt your heart break all over again, shattering into a million irretrievable pieces. “You can’t get away with this.” You said, but your voice lacked the conviction it once held.

“Oh, but I already have.” She replied, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “And if you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut. Otherwise, who knows what might happen next?”

The weight of her threat hung heavy in the air, and you realized the truth of her power over you. The world felt like it was closing in, your vision blurring as the enormity of it all washed over you. With a sickening feeling of despair, you understood that you were utterly alone in this twisted game.

As you rose from the bench, every part of you screamed to run, to escape the grip of her twisted reality. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t. Not yet. The fight was far from over, but now, it was a fight for survival, and you had to gather every ounce of strength to confront the darkness that threatened to consume you. The battle was just beginning, and you would not let her win.

You stepped back, shaking your head as if that could somehow dispel the reality of the situation. “You’re delusional, Allison.” You said, but the conviction in your voice was wavering. “This can’t be real. You didn’t plan all of this from the beginning.”

Allison laughed again, a sound that echoed through the park like a chilling wind. “Oh, but it is real, darling. Every moment we spent together, every laugh we shared on those calls, it was all a performance. I played the role of the girlfriend to perfection, didn’t I?” She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a manic energy. “I had you all wrapped around my little finger, believing I on his side while I was orchestrating your downfall.”

Your heart raced as you felt the blood drain from your face. “No… No, you can’t mean that.” You stammered, disbelief mingling with a sickening realization. “You were there when Sebastian was arrested in court. You acted like you cared!”

“Cared?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I was reveling in your pain! Watching you grieve over someone you believed was innocent while I knew the truth all along was the highlight of my little game.” She paused, her expression shifting to something darker. “And the best part? I’ll always be three steps ahead of you.”

The breath caught in your throat, a chill running down your spine. “You’re a monster.” You whispered, your voice trembling. “How can you do this?”

“Because it’s fun.” She simply repeated, shrugging her shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “And let’s be real: I’m the only one who understands the beauty in chaos. This world is just a stage, and I’m the star of my own show.”

Every word dripped with malice, a taunting melody that twisted your insides. “You’re not a star, Allison. You’re just a pathetic coward hiding behind a mask of cruelty.”

She tilted her head, a smirk still playing on her lips. “But it’s the mask that gives me power, don’t you see? I can walk into any room and make people believe whatever I want them to believe. I’ve turned everyone against Sebastian. The evidence I planted, the stories I twisted—it’s all there. You can’t change the narrative once it’s set in stone.”

A fresh wave of anger surged through you, igniting a spark of defiance. “I won’t let you do this. I’ll find a way to expose you!”

“Oh, sweet naïve darling.” She mocked, her laughter sharp and cruel. “You think anyone will believe you? You’re just the broken girlfriend of a murderer. Who would trust your word against the solid evidence I’ve crafted? You’ll be seen as the girl who couldn’t let go, who couldn’t accept that her boyfriend was a monster.”

You felt your heart shatter all over again, each piece piercing you deeper. The weight of her manipulation suffocated you, leaving you gasping for air. “Why, Allison? Why all this?” You begged, desperation creeping into your voice. “What did you gain from ruining our lives?”

She leaned back, crossing her arms with a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. “I told you. It’s all a game, and I just wanted to see how far I could push you. I wanted to watch you crumble, to see you lose everything you held dear. It was beautiful, really. Watching you struggle to come to terms with Sebastian’s guilt while I quietly reveled in your despair.”

As her words sank in, a wave of grief crashed over you, threatening to drown you in its depths. “You’re sick.” You murmured, tears brimming in your eyes. “You’re not a person...“

“Call me what you want.” She said, her tone breezy, as if your words didn’t affect her. “The truth is, I’m the only one left standing. You’re the one who has lost everything, and I’m just getting started.”

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. She was right. You had been so focused on saving Sebastian that you hadn’t seen the bigger picture—the twisted web she had spun around you both. You felt like a marionette, dancing to her strings, and the weight of your helplessness crashed down on you.

“And trust me, darling, I plan to keep it that way. The game has just begun, and you’re the perfect player. Let’s see how long you last.”

With that, she stood up, brushing off her clothes with a dismissive gesture. “I’ll be watching, of course. You won’t be able to escape me, not when I’m always just a step away, waiting for you to make your next move.”

As she turned to walk away, her laughter echoed behind her, a haunting reminder of the chaos she had unleashed in your life. You felt the tears finally spill over, hot and angry, as the weight of betrayal and loss crashed down around you.

The heavy silence of the dimly lit store enveloped Allison as she stepped through the door, the creak of the hinges echoing through the darkness. The air felt thick, laden with anticipation, and she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. The usual comforting scents of paint and wood shavings were replaced by an unsettling stillness that set her on edge.

“Painter?” She called, her voice slicing through the gloom, only to be met with silence. She squinted, trying to make out any shapes in the shadows, but the darkness felt alive, shifting around her as if it were aware of her presence.

A moment later, a soft click broke the stillness as a solitary bulb flickered to life, casting a weak glow across the room. Painter sat behind the counter, his features partially obscured in shadow, but the intensity of his gaze was unmistakable. He leaned forward, his hands clasped around a canvas and some expensive painting tools as he sketched, and the tension in the air thickened.

“Well?” He asked, his voice low and steady. He didn't bothered to even glance at her. “How did it go?”

Allison stepped closer, her heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and trepidation. “It went exactly as I planned.” She replied, a smirk creeping onto her lips. “She’s fragile, Painter. Perfectly broken, just like we wanted. The meeting was… enlightening.”

Painter’s expression remained unreadable, but the way he tilted his head indicated he was hanging on her every word. “Enlightening how?” He pressed, his voice sharp.

“She is ready for the next step.” Allison continued, the thrill of her deception washing over her like a warm wave. “I spun the tale beautifully—she’s drowning in despair. I made sure to emphasize how she was the one left behind, how she had been played all along.”

“Good.” Painter replied, nodding slowly. “You have her right where we need her. But what about your end of the bargain? You have what you promised me?”

Allison laughed, a sound laced with a hint of darkness. “Of course. Everything is in place. I took care of the evidence. The hair samples, the clothes. No one will ever suspect a thing. It’s all beautifully orchestrated, just like a well-crafted film.”

Painter’s eyes gleamed with interest, and he leaned back, a satisfied smile slowly spreading across his face. “You’ve truly outdone yourself, Allison. I knew I could count on you to bring chaos to life.”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s just another day in our little game, isn’t it? But let’s be clear: I’m not here to play forever. I want my reward.”

“You’ll get it.” Painter assured her, his tone serious now. “But remember, the game isn’t over yet. There’s still more to be done.“

“I’m already steps ahead,” Allison replied, her confidence bubbling over. “She has no idea who’s really pulling the strings. With Sebastian out of the picture, and with me in her life pretending to the enemy, I can manipulate her emotions. It’s a beautiful arrangement.”

“Just ensure she doesn’t catch on too quickly.” Painter cautioned, a warning lacing his words. “Her grief could turn into something more dangerous if she realizes she’s being played.”

Allison waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. I know how to handle her. Besides, she’s already broken. It won’t take much to keep her under my control.”

“Good.” Painter said, satisfaction evident in his voice. “Let’s keep her that way. I have plans for her, and we need her to stay in line.”

As the weight of their conversation settled around them, a shared understanding ignited in the darkness. They were both architects of chaos, and together they would build a world that thrived on manipulation and deceit.

Allison stepped back, a grin spreading across her face. “This is just the beginning, Painter. I can’t wait to see how this unfolds.”

Painter leaned back in his chair, a gleam of malice in his eyes. “Neither can I. But remember, the shadows are watching, and we must stay one step ahead. Let’s make sure that the show goes on.”

With that, the two conspirators shared a knowing glance, the darkness of the store wrapping around them like a cloak, sealing their plans in the hushed stillness of the night. The game was far from over, and they were ready to play.

In the dim, cluttered backroom of the art studio, the air was thick with an oppressive silence, broken only by the soft scratching of Painter’s pencil against the canvas. Each stroke was deliberate, each line imbued with a manic energy that crackled like electricity in the air. As he meticulously worked on capturing your likeness, the glee within him grew, bubbling to the surface like a sinister tide.

The whole sequence of events had been a carefully choreographed dance, an intricate play penned solely by him. From Allison’s arrival at the café to the shocking announcement of Sebastian’s (faked) death, every detail had been crafted with precision, each moment calculated to elicit the maximum emotional response from you. It was all part of his grand design—a masterpiece of manipulation that he reveled in as if it were the finest work of art.

Painter leaned back, admiring his handiwork, his heart racing with a mixture of excitement and something darker. Yes, he was in love with you, utterly and completely, to the point where he would twist the very fabric of reality itself to ensure you would see him as your savior. For him, love had morphed into an obsession, one that transcended the boundaries of morality and reason. He had watched from the shadows as you and Sebastian grew closer, the connection between you blooming like a flower in spring, and it had driven him to the edge of madness.

The red strings of fate, which folklore claimed intertwined the lives of soulmates, had become a web of control and manipulation in his mind. He had to act before it was too late, before you were irrevocably lost to Sebastian. That was when he had reached out to Allison, a face from your past, and transformed her into the perfect pawn in his game.

“Skilled, wicked, and naive.” He murmured to himself, a cruel smile spreading across his lips as he remembered the lengths he had gone to secure her loyalty. He had paid her handsomely to infiltrate your life, to steal Sebastian from you, to take your identity, your streaming account, your very essence. It was all too easy to convince her that she was invincible under his protection, too blind to see the truth—that she was nothing more than a tool, a disposable piece in his elaborate scheme.

Painter’s thoughts raced, the joy of his manipulation coursing through him. The climax of his plan had been the final confrontation with Allison, the dramatic reveal that would shatter the illusion she had created. It had all been a performance, rehearsed to perfection. He had relished the moment, watching as her bravado crumbled and the reality of her situation settled in like a heavy fog. She had believed she was in control, but he had orchestrated every twist and turn, and now the stage was set for her downfall.

Yet, despite all his efforts, there was one unexpected variable—your unwavering loyalty to Sebastian. Painter had believed that once he exposed Allison, you would run to him, your savior, the one who had seen the truth beneath the layers of deceit. But you had returned to Sebastian instead, drawn back to the very man he had orchestrated the demise of. In that moment, rage ignited within him, a blazing inferno that threatened to consume everything he had built.

There was no other choice; Sebastian had to go. The thought danced through his mind like a dark melody, sweet and intoxicating. Painter was rich, clever, and dangerously unhinged. He had the resources to make anything happen, to erase any obstacle that stood in his way. It was an easy task to hire the right people, to ensure that the nine murders he orchestrated would lead the trail of blame directly to Allison.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he recalled how he had twisted her mind, making her believe she was untouchable. She would take the blame for everything, painted as the guilty party in a crime that was all his doing. It was a beautiful, tragic irony that thrilled him; the naïve little pawn would never see it coming. The moment she was caught, the world would believe her to be the real villain, and he would be the silent spectator, the mastermind hiding in plain sight.

But Sebastian? He would not be lost to the world. No, he had arranged for his dear friend to become a living test subject for Urbanshade, a dark experiment that would keep him alive, twisting in the shadows. Painter’s smile widened as he imagined the day you would finally see through the fog of lies and betrayal, when you would recognize him as the one who truly cared for you, the only one who had ever understood you.

“Soon.” He whispered, a predatory glint in his eyes, “You will see me, and then all will be right in this world I’ve created.” The canvas before him captured not just your face but the very essence of his twisted love, a love that would stop at nothing to ensure you were his and his alone.

As he continued to sketch, the darkness of his intentions wrapped around him like a cloak, and he couldn’t help but feel that, in this sinister game of puppets, he was the true artist. Each line, each shadow, was a testament to his genius—a dark narrative that would soon unfold, revealing the depths of his obsession and the horrifying lengths to which he would go to have you in his grasp.

Painter had played everyone. Sebastian, Allison, and especially YOU.

[celestiaras]

Can i req a ILUNA x Artist Fem! Reader

Where reader sketches and draws alot of the ILUNA members and one day they see her sketchpad just full of drawings of them

*Bonus points if they find any spicy or suggestive drawings of them*

Sincerely ILUNALOVER1000 anon 🌈

ft. maria marionette, kyo kaneko, aia amare, aster arcadia, scarle yonaguni, ren zotto (separate) x gn! reader — iluna, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ reacting to your suggestive art of them┊0.5k words

contains: mentions of suggestive art obviously, ren’s alien anatomy 

➤ author's note: i couldn’t really think of unique reactions to the reader being an artist because they would all be so supportive? it’s very short and sweet so feel free to send in a different request :)

maria marionette is surprised. even if she wears cute, girlish clothes, she’ll be the first to admit that her body type is a straight rectangle without curves of any sort. it hasn’t really been an insecurity of hers, but it made her think it wasn’t really possible to draw or photograph her in a desirable light when she’s just too cute so she really appreciates your art showing herself in a different perspective. 

kyo kaneko is flabbergasted. his jaw remains unhinged as he stares at the pages in some strange mixture of disgust and fascination, eyes moving from you and the sketches at a cartoonish pace. he’s not completely against it, but you’re really using him as a reference for anatomy practice? him? the crayola twink with an ass flatter than paper? he’ll probably tell you to stop drawing him naked and put your skills towards commissions instead because he knows you could make a decent amount of money with your talents.

aia amare is amused. she’ll cut them out or at least copy them to hang up in her room, probably at her desk area where she works. it’s nothing too strange to her, she’s probably drawn you in suggestive poses as well— hell, she’s probably drawn you heavily pregnant with her child as a joke regardless if you are male or female. if you want, she’ll even give you advice on how to improve your anatomy and claim you draw her tits too small.

aster arcadia is flustered. his pale face is comically red from the tip of his nose to the shell of his ears, yet he still won’t let you pull it away from him as he flips through the pages. the type to run around and jump onto furniture to prevent you from taking back the sketchbook, he just wants to keep staring at them because he’s in awe of the way you managed to capture his androgyny. 

scarle yonaguni is flattered. a mix of aia and aster’s reactions, she’ll also want to keep her own copies of your drawings of her and will play a lengthy game of keep-away because she isn’t ready to part with them yet. she’ll hang them in her bedroom as a reminder of how sexy she is in your eyes, giving her a confidence boost every morning when she wakes up. will offer to do nude modeling for you, but if you actually take her up on her offer, she’ll end up getting too embarrassed and antsy to stay still in such a vulnerable state under your gaze.

ren zotto is nonchalant. he’s the most normal about it all, probably didn’t even register what you were doing until he noticed you acting strange about it so he did a double-take. will point at the paper and say something like “my dick doesn’t look at like, that— i thought you out of anyone would know that” with his iconic fuckboy laugh as you sputter that it was just a sketch and you weren’t done yet.

[missmyloko]

Hi Justine,

I had an encounter with a Japanese person who hates the geisha world because of Kiyoha’s tweets, and I feel I could have responded better.

Is it ok to ask your opinion/advice? If not, please feel free to ignore my ask and I’ll understand.

I was at a reading group and I’m reading Arai Mameji’s autobiography. When I shared what I was reading, the Japanese person in our group said she hates the geisha world because they sell young girls to powerful men. I said that isn’t true, not anymore at least, and then she brought up Kiyoha’s tweets.

I got really thrown off and wasn’t sure what to say. I said I did get really upset when that news came out, and that it’s hard when you’re in an industry where the clients include politicians and rich, powerful men.

But I also said I’ve been to maiko events where the owner of the restaurant was there at all times, the guests were a mix of men and women, and the maiko were perfectly safe.

I also said that at least thanks to Kiyoha’s tweets, girls who decide to become maiko will do so with open eyes.

The facilitator of the group asked me what do I like about maiko, and I was so thrown that I couldn’t articulate it properly. I said I admire how hard they work to perfect their craft, and i love the beautiful kimono they wear. But when I expounded on how hard they work, I realized I was describing an environment that makes it easy to cover up abuse—no cellphones, only seeing their families at New Year, so I felt awkward again.

So I left that reading group with an icky feeling, and I also felt misunderstood. Though the facilitator was still nice and said he hoped to see me next time.

So, if I have a similar encounter, how can I respond without feeling like I’m defending abuse? 😰

Their environment is traditional, which can make it seem like it's an "easy" place to hide abuse, but that same environment is one that looks out for its own above all, which makes it much safer than one would think. Being in the karyukai really is like being in a secret club, whether you're a geimaiko or a customer you're vetted thoroughly before you enter, and if you go against the grain you're shown the door. It's also a world run by women who truly treat their charges like their own daughters (in 99% of cases anyway), so you know that they don't take abuse or the accusation of abuse laying down. The biggest thing to remember is that, unlike in the past, girls are free to choose the life of a geimaiko and can also leave at anytime without the fear of repercussions, so no one is going into the profession as a slave or has to endure any abuse of any kind. The girls who do this kind of hard work (and it is hard, which is why it's so admirable) are dedicated to the arts and improving themselves, which makes them such bosses. The girls who enter just to wear pretty kimono are quickly weeded out as they can't keep up with the training, but those who triumph have names that are known the world over. As to why you probably admire geimaiko, that's a fairly easy thing to articulate once you sit down and realize what they do. These women buck social norms as they say "no" to traditional gender roles and become the ones who wield power over men. They study the arts that they want, keep schedules that are pretty steady (and can then make their own schedules when they become jimae), and eventually buy whatever they want (and even when they live at the okiya they pretty much want for not). Not only that, but they are power brokers and diplomats for some of the most powerful people on the planet. It takes a special kind of strength to be a geimaiko, and those who succeed in living that life are bad asses. I mean, where else can you be a single mother earning a six figure salary, wear the best clothing, and meet people from across the globe on a nightly basis? In a society where traditional gender norms shape so much of what people can and can't do, geimaiko basically say "screw that" to everything. What happened to Kiyoha was horrible and can't be ignored, which is why the karyukai is starting to take action against that kind of behavior happening again. The good eggs look out for their own, like the events that you've gone to, and this is true in the vast majority of cases. I mean, no system is perfect and there will always be bad apples, but you can't look at Kiyoha's experience and say that the entire profession is like that or that it's tainted beyond repair because of what one girl went through. Anything worth fighting for requires effort, and it's up to people like us to put in the effort to help dispel the myths surrounding geimaiko so that this wonderful profession can continue to thrive in the future, hopefully with the necessary changes being made to ensure that it becomes a safer environment for all involved ^^

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

hi Jake! I absolutely love your blogs, and I’m wondering if you can do some Homicidal Liu/liu woods hcs? :3 please & thank you!!

GUH LIU <333 He's my special guy I love him

TW: Mentions of abuse, trauma, very light gore, a little angst

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

General Liu Headcanons

The biggest thing about Liu that effects his day to day life is his DID

He grew up in a very dysfunctional home, where his parents only really had kids as makeshift butlers and to live vicariously through them

Liu, being the older brother had a lot of the "harder" tasks given to him such as cooking for the family, making sure everyone had clean clothes, when jeff was a baby he had to change jeff's diapers, etc

So both kids were very mentally unstable from the start, but what really set the hammer in the coffin for Liu developing DID was that whenever he either did something wrong or didn't do his "chores", he was severely punished by being locked in a closet with no food, water or bathroom privileges for unknown amounts of time

This being said, he has waaay more alters than just Sully, Sully is just the one that fronts the most due to Sully being the main protector of the system

Other than Sully, Liu's system is made up of mostly littles and caretaker alters

Which can be very scary at times, so he does everything in his power to make sure that if someone does happen to front, it isn't any of the littles

Ok, i'm done talking about his DID now

I imagine him to either be fully Columbian or mixed Columbian with American

Jeff is the same way

Speaking of Jeff, Liu is about 5 years older than Jeff

Also on the topic of Jeff, Liu still very much loves his brother, and understands that during the "incident" he was very mentally unstable and he wasn't entirely in control of his own actions at the moment

But after being reunited with Jeff, it took a very, very long time for Liu to even stay in the front of his mind when around Jeff, let alone feel safe around him

Over the years, their relationship has significantly improved

Liu still doesn't feel comfortable being alone with Jeff, or even really going anywhere with Jeff, but he is able to hang out with him and talk

His height is around 5'9"

He always smells like vanilla and sometimes like a grandma's perfume

SPEAKING OF GRANDMAS

Liu is a total grandma

He says "oh lordy lord" after waking up from a long nap, he does the english teacher cardigan tuck, he says "kids these days", etc

But he's chill guys I swear (Jeff come get your boy he just said "Flabbergasted" in front of the hoes)

Also he loves plants

so much

someone stop this guy

It started out innocent enough, just a few plants to take care of because he read that taking care of plants can help with depression

And then he kind of spiraled

He has names for all of them, designated personalities, sometimes he knits them clothes for their pots

He's generally a very quiet guy

I wouldn't say shy per se....but he's like....shy in a cool history teacher way

guys he takes it up the butt

Woah who said that??? wild. Anyways!

He's so gentle and calming guh..

Love that guy, he's so special to me

ALSO he doesn't techincally have any pets but like...there's this one stray cat that comes around that he feeds and in return the cat brings him little dead things

He's named him "Harold Jackson"

He likes to read

He's one of those booktok girlies with all the tabs and highlighters

Genuinely squeals like a bitch when he sees a "Penguin Classics" book out in public

(I'm projecting onto him)

His proxy tattoo is on his shoulder, like right on top of it

He got his ears pierced at the young young age of 25 (reluctantly. Jeff forced him)

And now he wears all sorts of fun earrings! (he wears those e-boy cross earrings...)

His spotify wrapped consisted of David Bowie, Hozier, Cigarettes after sex, and mitski

His favorite color is beige and his hobbies include ironing clothes and sending emails <33

Guys idk if you can tell but i love him a lot

[meiliarotten]

And They Were Roomates

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairing: Engineer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Oh my god, they were roomates… Due to the shenanigans of the other mercenaries, your room is now uninhabitable. After a few nights of suffering on the common room couch, Engineer invites you to stay in his quarters. Smut ensues because of course it does!

Tags: Riding, oral, massage, kinda soft, the reader is a bit of a poor little meow meow not sure why I did that, “And There Was Only One Bed! 😯”

Word Count: 5.1k

The Masterlist

How does one accidentally make a lethal bio weapon? To find out you would simply have to ask Medic and Demo. To be more specific, a very drunk Medic and an even more drunk than usual Demo, who had made the joint decision one night that it would be a good idea to mix random chemicals and alcohols in order to, in their own words, “see what would happen.”

The ensuing toxic airborne chemical proceeded to permeate not only the lab, but any room relatively nearby. Unfortunately, that happened to include your own room. Waking up in respawn nearly coughing up a lung was not how you wanted to start your morning, and yet, there you were.

Most of the mercs were speechless when they found out that a good portion of their base would be completely quarantined until the gas could dissipate. Despite being at a loss for words, the few responsible members of the team were quick to scold both Medic and Demoman for several hours- although neither of them seemed to care much. You, however, were especially inconvenienced by this situation, since your room was right in the contamination zone.

At first, you had tried to venture in with a handkerchief pressed against your mouth and nose, just long enough to grab some things from your room. You learned your lesson when you once again woke up in respawn, your lungs and throat burning like you had tried to swallow acid. You should have known better than to think a simple square of cloth would be able to fend off a chemical that had been cooked up by Demo and Medic. Hell, not even Pyro dared to go into the sealed off portion of the base, and they were covered head to toe in a flame resistant suit and gas mask.

In the end, you made peace with the fact that you would be sleeping on the common room couch for several days. It was fine the first couple nights, but it wasn’t long before these new sleeping arrangements began to affect you negatively. You found yourself waking up in weird positions, just from trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, which would usually result in a stiff back or an unrelenting ache that wouldn’t waver for the rest of the day.

Still, you had a job to do, and so whenever anyone asked about a limp or a wince that you couldn’t hide, you would tell them it was nothing and get on with your day. Most would leave you alone then- except for one. The Engineer was the most concerned about your current state of perpetual exhaustion, probably because he was your closest friend on the team. While you wouldn’t mind if your relationship were to be something a bit more than friends, it was something you never had the courage to bring up.

It had been your third day on the couch when he cornered you in the locker rooms after the daily battles had concluded.

“Engie?” you said, wondering what he wanted. Today had been full of some pretty miserable losses, and on such days Engie tended to seclude himself in his room to work on improving his sentry blueprints.

“I want you to sit down here, darlin,’” he said matter of factly, motioning to the bench in the middle of the locker room. “You got pretty roughed up out there today.”

“We all did.” You pointed out the obvious, but you were also too tired to argue. With a sigh, you sat down on the bench. Engie made his way behind you, and you were about to ask him what exactly he thought he was doing when your breath caught in your throat.

Engie placed his hands on your shoulders with care, working his thumbs into your back. He was gentle, gradually increasing the pressure to work out the tightness in your muscles. He located and paid special attention to spots that had been giving you quite a bit of trouble lately with surprising skill.

“God, honey. You’re so tense, just try to relax for me,” he said, shifting his focus from your shoulders to your upper and middle back.

“Well, anything for you.” The words slipped out without you even thinking about it, but Engie didn’t seem to mind, simply humming in response. You were thankful that he either didn’t notice or didn’t mention the blush spreading over your cheeks.

Those hands of his worked wonders, that was for sure. The pressure was perfect as he worked over your muscles with expertise you didn’t know he had. It wasn’t long until the stiffness was nearly gone.

“I can’t believe you’ve been fighting so hard out there while carrying all this tension,” Engie said as he began to work on a particularly troublesome spot around your right shoulder.

“I have to pull my weight, and a bit of pain isn’t about to stop me,” you said matter of factly. You all had to get paid somehow, after all.

“Still, it ain’t fair that you gotta toss and turn all night only to get shot, stabbed, and blown up all day. At least the rest of us have the comfort of our own rooms…” Engie paused, his eyes lighting up as if realizing something obvious. “Oh, well there’s an idea.”

“What?”

“How about you stay in my room for a few days?”

You started stammering, not daring to look back at Engie in case he noticed how red your face was. “Oh, I don’t want to be a burden or anything. Do you even have an extra bed?”

“Oh no, I’ll just take the floor until your room is livable again,” he explained. You couldn’t believe it. Your not-so-subtle workplace crush had just given you a massage and immediately offered up his own bed for your use. Even so, your nerves made you hesitant.

“Engie, you don’t have to do that,” you said, feeling a pang of guilt. “I would be your guest! I’ll take the floor.”

“Nonsense, darlin’! I offered you my room so you wouldn’t be waking up uncomfortable, what’s the point of that if I don’t at least offer you the bed?” You began to stammer and protest again but Engie simply put his hand up to stop you, concluding his decision with a final, “I insist.”

You sighed, realizing that it was a fruitless endeavor to argue. Not to mention you were quite thrilled to be sharing a room with Engie, so why debate over a good thing? Still, you felt a compromise was in order.

“We’ll take turns,” you said, trying to mirror Engie’s own tone of finality. He chuckled at your attempt, which probably came off as more cute than serious. Still, he agreed, perhaps also realizing that arguing the matter wouldn’t be productive.

“Alright, fine,” he conceded. “We’ll take turns.”

—

Engie’s room was quite comfortable, despite the blueprints and sentry parts scattered about. There was a sense of organized chaos to it all, and you were sure if you asked Engie to find something specific he would be able to with no issue. The bed was quite nice as well. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to wake up without aches and pains.

However, that ‘compromise’ regarding the sleeping arrangements barely lasted three days.

One thing you always knew about Engie was that he was the type to go to sleep very late at night, usually after finalizing the details on weapon blueprints, or tinkering with the Gunslinger. However he suddenly became much more keen on turning in early, especially earlier than you. When you would find him fast asleep on the floor of his room, even when it was not his turn, you pretty much had no choice but to take the bed.

You had tried waking him up a few times. It was no use. The man slept like a rock. He was gentlemanly to the point of frustration, but it only made you more fond of him, if not a bit exasperated. It would be a relief when your room was finally cleaned out and livable again.

This arrangement continued until one especially difficult day. A hard battle had ended in an extremely close victory, but nobody had the energy to celebrate. Battered and exhausted, everyone who needed to made their way to Medic for treatment, and then shuffled off to sleep away the lingering soreness. You got to the room before Engie, who was still being patched up, pulled back the covers and collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy sigh.

You were just beginning to doze off when you heard the door open. You lifted your head to see Engie limping into the room- he had taken a few nasty shots to the leg today. The moment you saw him kneeling down to the floor, you spoke up.

“Engie, don’t be ridiculous,” you said, unable to believe that this man was really about to sleep on the cold floor after such an arduous day. He jumped slightly, having assumed you were already asleep. You shifted over to one side of the bed, making a space just large enough for him to occupy. “Come over here.”

The slight blush on his face didn’t go unnoticed by you, even in the dim lighting of the room. He sidled up next to you with a sigh. “Thanks darlin.’”

“It’s no problem. We both deserve to be comfortable after today,” you said. Both of you were still in your day clothes, but neither cared enough to change out of them.

However, despite the exhausting day, neither of you were able to sleep for a while. Perhaps it was the lingering giddiness that came with winning such a close battle. Or, maybe it was the undeniable intimacy of sharing a bed, with little room for personal space and barely a gap between the two of you. Engie was the first to say something when it became obvious that sleep wouldn’t come easy, eager to break the awkward silence that reigned while both of you simply lay awake.

“You know, I’ve always wondered, what led you to join up with a bunch of mercenaries?”

The question caught you off guard. Honestly, there were several complicated reasons and events that led you to where you were now. It certainly wasn’t something you wanted to get into in its entirety.

“Probably the same as all of you. Money gets tight, and eventually you just take whatever you can get,” you said. It wasn’t completely untrue, and Engie seemed to relate.

“Guess I should’ve figured as much,” he said with an understanding nod.

“It’s not all bad though,” you added, hesitating before continuing. “I mean, I’ve made friends here. I met you.”

Engie was silent for a moment before responding. “Well, that’s a meeting I wouldn’t trade for the world, darlin’.”

You prayed that your blush was hidden by the darkness of the room. However when Engie’s hand suddenly came up to your cheek, there was no way he didn’t feel the heat radiating from your face. He didn’t comment on it, and you gave him an inquisitive look as he seemed deep in thought. When he did finally speak, he fumbled with his words for a moment before finally managing to say something coherent.

“May I kiss you?”

It was a short, simple question, impossible to be misinterpreted, and yet your brain couldn’t seem to process the request. Within a moment it felt as if your senses were all running on high alert, culminating in an even shorter, one word answer.

“Yes!” The volume at which you spoke was louder than you meant for it to be, displaying your over-excitement in a way that made you want to cover your face and melt through the mattress. With a deep breath, you managed to regain some of your composure, stammering in an attempt to salvage your response. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I was just trying to say that I would like that. I would like that very much.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” Engie said, looking down at you with a soft smile. You were drawn to that expression, already leaning forward a bit. He was the one to close the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours.

He kept it chaste at first, but you could tell he wanted more. It wasn’t long before you made the first move to deepen the kiss, biting gently at his lower lip until he gasped, allowing you entrance. It was an intense, wordless communication of feelings the two of you hadn’t dared to express until now, set out in the open through the parting of lips and the mingling of tongues, culminating in the two of you panting when the need for air pulled you apart.

You weren’t sure when you had wrapped your arms around his shoulders. And you sure as hell weren’t sure when he ended up on top of you either. In a sudden moment of clarity, your face flushed red and a strange combination of shame and excitement overwhelmed you.

“Sorry. Was that too much?” you asked. Doubt was setting in. Maybe he hadn’t wanted something so… passionate. Maybe you had taken it too far. Engie quelled those fears when he finally regained his composure enough to answer.

“No, it was perfect.” His voice was dreamy and breathless. He looked down at you with such genuine fondness, and it made you feel so weak for him, so desperate for his touch. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long while now, darlin’. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was kinda hoping something like this would happen when I invited you to my room.”

“Well, it took you long enough,” you teased before kissing him again. You were eager to resume your exploration of his mouth, but this time he took control, letting his lips travel down and linger on your jawline, eventually descending to your neck and drawing soft whimpers from you as he ventured over the sensitive skin.

Engie sought after those little sounds you made, sucking at the delicate skin on your neck and collar. You shuddered as he gently grazed your skin with his teeth. Even though he was treating you with the utmost care, you had a feeling there would be some marks you would need to cover up tomorrow.

Although he tried to hide it, every noise you made in response to Engie’s ministrations had him growing more aroused by the minute. He had always hoped he would have had more self control in this situation. After all, the only thing that had happened so far was some kissing. Yet that seemed to be enough for him on this particular day, as you soon felt the evidence of his arousal pressing firmly against you through his clothing.

You let out a soft gasp at the sensation. Engie didn’t seem to take notice, still keeping himself busy with marking up your neck. You moved your thigh against his groin just to be sure, and the breathy groan you got in response was all the confirmation you needed.

Engie pulled back suddenly, looking panicked and apologetic, as if he had just come to his senses. “I’m sorry darlin,’ I seem to be getting a bit over excited-”

“No, it’s alright!” you said, cutting him off mid-apology. You wanted him to keep going. You didn’t want him to cease his actions for even a moment, and you made sure he knew that. “I don’t want to stop, please.”

He looked hesitant for a moment, but not unwilling. If anything, he seemed as anxious as you were, and that brought you some respite. The way you looked at him, with desire and anticipation that mirrored his own, was enough to convince him that you truly meant what you said.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Just let me take good care of you.”

Engineer set upon your neck again, this time making a clear effort to leave tell tale bruises. You didn’t mind. It was nothing makeup wouldn’t be able to cover, and you found that you quite enjoyed the gentle bites Engie would sometimes deliver after marking up a new area of your skin.

Still, you felt a bit awkward. It seemed as if Engie was doing all the work. He did tell you to let him take care of you, but surely you should be doing something? The feeling of hands on your hips brought you back to reality. That robotic hand, affixed to its owner through a brilliant feat of engineering and biology, now held a near bruising grip on your hip. You winced and Engie loosened his grasp with a soft apology.

Even though it had hurt, there was something tantalizing about the idea that the Gunslinger had only been exerting a small fraction of the power stored in those robotic joints. And now, Engie kept its pressure under control perfectly, using it to hold you gently, eventually working the metal digits beneath the hem of your shirt. You took that as your cue to take some initiative, stripping off your top before Engie had the chance to do it himself. He looked surprised for a moment before realizing that you were staring, most likely waiting for him to undress as well. He began to hastily unfasten the buttons on his shirt and you watched eagerly, your lower lip trapped between your teeth.

Not wanting to just sit there ogling, you did the most obvious thing you could think of and started kissing him again. It was rougher than before and a bit clumsy, especially as the two of you tried to multitask, undressing each other until most of your clothes were discarded on the bedroom floor. Engie paused when he reached the waistband of your underwear, as if he was waiting for permission to go further.

“Go on, Dell,” you whispered, the use of his name catching his attention immediately. “Please.”

He gave you a quick nod and carefully removed your undergarments as well, leaving you naked beneath him. You laid back, glancing to the side awkwardly as you realized you weren’t quite sure what came next. Dell, seeming to sense your uncertainty, thankfully spoke up.

“It’s alright, darlin.’ Just start by telling me what you want.” He was being genuine, clearly not making any attempt to tease you. Still, the idea of putting words to all the things you had fantasized about before this moment made your face flush red.

“I want…” you paused, taking a moment to think before continuing with a shaky sigh. “I want you to touch me, please.”

Dell grinned down at you, making you blush harder. “Oh, like this?”

You shivered as you felt his fingers slide along your slit. He held eye contact with you, taking in every reaction you made. You gave a soft whimper when he dipped into you, gently thrusting with his fingers. Once Dell was sure you were starting to relax he shifted his focus to your clit, making your body shudder and your back arch against the mattress.

He was attentive, making sure to ease up whenever you seemed to be getting overwhelmed. He held your hips still with his prosthetic, and once again you were reminded that the Gunslinger was exerting a mere fraction of its power on you. The idea of being somewhat restrained by such a powerful work of machinery was incredibly erotic.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” Dell’s voice brought you back to reality, along with the fact that he was no longer moving within you.

“Fuck, yes! Keep going,” you begged, squirming at the lack of stimulation. The soft chuckle you got in response was followed by Dell doing something especially nice with his fingers, curling them within you. You couldn’t hold back a sharp moan, bucking against his fingers- or at least you would have if you weren’t still being held still.

“That’s a real nice spot isn’t it?” he asked, his lips brushing against your ear as he leaned in close. You gasped as he continued to press a finger against your sweet spot, carefully working in a second digit to allow for more pressure.

Dell knew how to read your body surprisingly well, and he knew that if he simply let his thumb rub against your clit right now it would bring you to orgasm. But he couldn’t deny that he wanted to really take in the sight of you writhing like this, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you. However, being the gentleman he was, he couldn’t deny you for long, especially when you started to buck your hips. He couldn’t stand to see you so needy. He wanted to see you come for him.

As he continued to work his fingers inside of you he used his thumb to circle over your clit, making you shudder and moan into your hand. You didn’t want anyone to overhear you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to contain your sounds, especially as you finally felt the pleasure overwhelm you. You came with a shaky groan, whimpering his name as you rode out your orgasm.

Dell pulled his fingers away when you began to squirm from overstimulation. He didn’t say anything at first, completely captivated by how you looked as you relaxed in the afterglow. Your tousled hair, flushed face, and half lidded eyes created a gorgeous picture for him to take in.

“Hey, what is it?” you asked when you finally caught your breath and noticed him staring.

“Nothing, you’re just so pretty,” Dell said, chuckling softly. He knew it probably sounded a bit juvenile, but it was the truth. “Ain’t never seen anything like it.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that statement. “You must be kidding,” you said, just barely managing to contain a laugh. “I’m certain a guy like you has been with plenty of pretty girls.”

“Nope, at least, none that I really care for.” He went quiet for a moment, as if contemplating his next words carefully before continuing. His voice was softer, almost shy. “But I care about you, I really do. I want to make you feel good, make you feel loved like you should be.”

You somehow managed to blush even brighter than you already were. Honestly, you weren’t sure how to respond. You looked deep in thought for a while, and Dell began to worry.

“Was that too much?” His apologetic tone brought you back to reality. “I’m sorry. I understand if you want this to be a one time thing-”

“No! Nothing’s wrong,” you stammered, trying to find the words to express what you were feeling. “I guess I’m just not used to it, the whole ‘being cared for’ thing. It feels nice.”

You felt like you were stumbling through your sentences, fearing that you were coming off as clumsy and awkward. Nothing you were saying seemed nearly as eloquent as it had sounded in your head, but then again, such things almost never were.

“Well, you better get used to it,” Dell said with a low chuckle. “Cause by the end of the night, I wanna make you feel like the most cared for person in the world.”

Before you could respond, Dell’s lips were on yours again, and you didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss. You shivered as you tasted his lips and tongue, longing for more of him, more to feel, more to taste. Your hands began to wander, lower and lower until you were able to palm at Dell’s erection, straining against the front of his briefs, which you now realized you had neglected to remove. He pulled away with a gasp and you grinned up at him, an idea beginning to form.

“Let's switch. Let me be on top,” you said, letting go and rolling out from under him.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Dell said, his voice shaking with lust and anticipation as he laid back on the bed and watched you climb on top of him.

You kissed your way down his body, letting your hands wander. He watched, shuddering when you palmed over his chest and then downward, until the tips of your fingers finally slipped just below his waistband. You pulled his briefs down with a quick motion, freeing his erection.

Dell exhaled and gave you an inquisitive look, as if to silently ask, “what are you planning to do now?” You didn’t hesitate to show him exactly what your intentions were, leaning down and taking his cock into your mouth with a muffled moan. The sharp gasp you got in response certainly didn’t disappoint, and you quickly got to work bobbing your head and using your tongue in all the right ways.

“Oh god, darlin,’” Dell groaned, placing a hand on the back of your head. He was careful not to push you, but the tightening grip on your hair was indicative of how well you were doing. He was quite vocal, letting you know just how good you were making him feel. You would be lying if you said it didn’t boost your ego a bit. “Just like that, keep workin’ your tongue around, damn you're good at this!”

It was intoxicating to see Dell start to come undone by your efforts, the taste of precum soon becoming noticeable. You were tempted to finish him off like this, to simply let him spill down your throat and swallow every last drop. But you also wanted him inside you so badly, and the pulsing arousal between your hips wouldn’t allow you to deny yourself much longer. You pulled away, accompanied by a disappointed groan. That disappointment wouldn’t last long.

“I want to ride you.” Your voice was breathless and heavy, making the statement sound more like a desperate plea.

He let out a sharp exhale, clearly trying to contain his excitement. Dell just barely managed to keep a wide grin from spreading across his face, answering with a shaky “Alright.” He almost sounded nervous, and you couldn’t help but find it rather cute.

You positioned yourself over him, his briefs now pulled much further down his thighs. Your breath hitched as you finally sank down onto his cock, dissolving into a low moan as you took him fully inside you. You felt Dell’s grip on your thighs tighten, the strength of his mechanical hand startling you for the third time that night as you felt the metal joints squeeze your flesh. His touch traveled up to your hips as you adjusted, eventually coming to rest on your ass when you finally began to move.

“You take me so well,” Dell moaned, looking up at you with half lidded eyes. “You look so pretty bouncing on my cock like that, darlin’.”

You whimpered at his praise, some part of you knowing you shouldn’t be too loud, even as you rode him harder and faster. Your lower lip was caught firmly between your teeth as you tried to muffle yourself. Even so, some louder moans and gasps managed to escape whenever you hit a particularly good spot. Dell found it adorable whenever you would clasp your hand over your mouth, only to begin biting your lip once again as you needed both hands to keep your balance.

Meanwhile, he was just barely restraining himself from flipping you over and fucking you into the mattress. The sight above him was gorgeous- your body squirming atop his as he held your curves in his hands. However, it only made him more curious to know what it would be like to have you below him, writhing and grasping at the bedsheets and he ravished you. Even with how much he wanted that, he resisted. After all, it was becoming quite clear from your failing efforts to keep quiet and the way you were beginning to grind against him that you were getting close. Dell didn’t want to throw you off your rhythm, especially when he was beginning to feel himself lose control as well.

“You’re gonna come real soon, aren’t you?” he asked, stroking your body up and down with the utmost care, taking note of every sensitive area he could use to enhance your pleasure. “Go on sweetheart, say it.”

You cried out, any attempt at keeping your voice down now completely abandoned. Even if you were able to control yourself, the creaking of the bed frame would still be a dead giveaway to what was going on behind closed doors. But you didn’t care anymore, it all felt too good.

“Fuck, Dell! I’m so close,” you cried as you started grinding against him, the stimulation to your clit finally pushing you over the edge.

Dell bucked upward, lost in the sensation of your body trembling around him in the throes of your pleasure. You would have lost your balance if it weren’t for the firm grip he held on your waist keeping you steady. It wasn’t long before he couldn’t hold back any longer, shuddering as he reached his peak. You were pulled down on top of him, pressed against his body as the two of you came down from the high. Soon the only noise you could hear was the two of you breathing heavily, the rise and fall of Dell’s chest beneath you lulling you into a drowsy state.

You didn’t disturb the peace for several minutes, especially when the ache began to settle in your thighs and the idea of moving became far less appealing. As it turned out, riding on top took a hefty physical toll after a while. You must have been enjoying yourself too much to acknowledge it while actually doing it. The irony that you had now traded a stiff and aching back for sore legs was not lost on you, but you honestly couldn’t care less. That was an issue for later.

“You alright, darlin’?” Dell’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I’m more than alright,” you said, a giddy laugh escaping you. “That was amazing.”

He smiled fondly at you, shifting slightly so that you were side by side and pulling you close. You relaxed into the embrace, eager for the comfort his touch brought you. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, I like making you feel good,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear and making you shiver. “And I’m guessing the days of ‘taking turns’ in the bed are over?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, although it was muffled due to your face being buried against Dell’s chest. You would have thought the answer to that would be obvious, but apparently not. You were able to get over your laughter long enough to mumble a faint “Of course” before letting yourself drift off, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest as the two of you both gave in to the allure of sleep.

[polysprachig]

17.03.2024 | lá fhéile Pádraig sona daoibh and some borderline Merlin fanfiction in Irish ☘️🍄

*Currently learning to record and working on my reader voice—without dropping my mixed accent

Sometimes you plan to do something 4 years ago, then 2, and in the end you do it today. How long I thought it would take to improve my writing and translation skills before moving on to creative reading and how long it actually took differed quite drastically. But as I annotate the polyglot journal I started in 2020 (which is not the book pictured above), it's hard to feel like that's a bad thing, since I gave myself an appropriate amount of time to work on each stage of my projects at my current level without feeling the need to rush on to the next thing.

The audio here is cut from a set of blanket test recordings I made to test out some recording software, which is why it gives she-just-picked-up-the-text-and-started-reading-without-prep-time vibes.

Text in Irish and English below.

English translation shares the original sentiment but at a different register—as was my specific intention in this particular project.

Fadó, fadó chuaigh Merlin go Camelot.

Long before the days of yore and once upon a time Merlin went to Camelot.

Bhuel, shiúil sé chuig an gcathair agus teangacha a bhróg ag longadán anonn is anall agus é ar a bhealach ann.

Walked, rather, the tongues of his boots swaying back and forth as he made his way there.

Ní raibh ann ach stócach bocht thart faoin am sin agus ní raibh a fhios aige cén dóigh marcaíocht ar chapall a dhéanamh, agus ní raibh capall aige fiú!

He was only a young lad at that time and hadn’t the faintest idea how to ride a horse, but fortunately for him, he didn’t own one!

Ba bhuachaill deas is cairdiúil é Merlin. Bhí sé ard tanaí agus bhí gruaig dhubh, súile gorma, agus cluasa móra air.

A nice, friendly boy Merlin was, tall and thin with black hair, blue eyes and sizeable ears.

É sin ráite, níor éist sé le daoine eile ar chor ar bith – agus fadhb i gcroí an scéil seo a bheidh inti sin, déanta na fírinne.

Not that he used them to listen to anyone else – a truth which, I dare say, will be the problem at the heart of this story.

Mar sin féin, ní hionann sin ‘s a rá go raibh sé ag déanamh amaidí gach lá.

Be that as it may, he wasn’t one to make a complete fool of himself either.

Thuig sé rudaí praiticiúla, mar shampla: ná bí i do shuí ar do thóin nuair a bhuaileann tú le díbheargaigh sa choill, ná hól uisce as an áit naofa agus rudaí mar sin.

He knew such practical things as not to sit on his arse when he happened on bandits in the forest, not to drink water from a sacred well and things like that.

Cé gur thuig sé é sin, rinne sé a rogha rud freisin.

Still, Merlin was rather prone to do as he pleased.

Tugadh am crua dó, ach b’fhearrde sé é gan dabht. 

It nearly always made his life more difficult, but what great test of character that turned out to be.

Chaith sé éadach glan buanfasach. Éadach donn a bhí i gceist den chuid is mó, ach bhí léine ghorm is scaif dhearg iontach deas aige freisin.

He wore clothes which were clean and durable and mostly brown to my recollection; yet he did have a blue shirt and a wonderfully lovely red scarf as well.

Ní raibh ach mála beag amháin aige chomh maith le pocán fíona, a luasc nuair a ghlac sé gach céim, agus éadach olla áisiúil ar chodail sé air. 

With him he carried only a small rucksack, a wineskin which rocked to and fro as he took each step, and a handy, woollen blanket to sleep on.

Bhí sé an-ghaofar nuair a chuaigh Merlin thar na sléibhte ar an mbóthar gainimh, ach mhothaigh sé an ghrian ar a aghaidh. Bhí sé te go leor.

A strong wind blew as Merlin traversed the mountains on the sandy road, but the sun on his face shone warm enough.

Bhí lá breá geallta don lá, rud a rinne radharc an tírdhreacha i bhfad níos áille.

The day was proving, as promised, to be a fine one and that made the view of the landscape even more beautiful.

Bhí féar glas agus rosáin bheaga ag fás taobh le cosán an tsléibhe, crainn ghiúise ina sheasamh ar charraigeacha na n-aillte, sruthanna beaga sneachta ag soilsiú ar cheann an tsléibhe agus néalta geala ag síneadh go bun na spéire.

Green grass and small shrubs grew along the mountain path, fir trees towered on the rocky cliffs, little streams of snow glistened on each mountain peak and bright clouds stretched as far as the eye could see.

Ní fhaca sé Camelot fós agus bhí tinneas cosa air, ach níor chuir sé sin moill air.

He could not yet see Camelot and his feet grew weary, but his pace never slowed.

Le fírinne, bhí an-dúil ag Merlin sa turas mór agus bhí sé sásta, is dócha. 

Truth be told, the journey was quite enjoyable for Merlin and he was generally content to be on it.

[neonstatic]

Ahh I can't sleep until I get this out of my system.

Sometimes I rly feel like I blew it. I have little desire for romance so I've never tried anything and don't feel like putting myself out there either. I'm almost certain I could live a very fulfilling life in total celibacy. I do fantasise abt romance tho, constantly, cus it's fun and it's free. But sometimes I'll find myself thinking abt the few opportunities that came my way... Most of it happened in the last five yrs. I've had a glow up of sorts: stopped hiding my body and started wearing clothes that actually fit me, found ways of expressing myself thru fashion, idk if my face changed or if I just realised that I'm cute actually? All those factors contributed to getting some attention and I'm not used to it and frankly, idk that I wanna do smth abt it. I've pretty much ran away from advances every time. And not bc I wasn't interested! Even when I could admit to myself that I did like this person in more than a strictly friendly way, I just came up w a bunch of reasons why it didn't matter and that it wouldn't work. And my feelings never felt that intense anyway. It's always, "Eh, I'll get over it." And then I did! For the most part.

But there's this girl... idk why she keeps crossing my mind. We met at a BIPOC sapphic event she organised and I already admired her for putting this together. She was beautiful and funny and smart, and I just found her so cool. And somehow, she thought much the same abt me! She said I was cute, she laughed at my jokes and she even found my awkwardness endearing. She didn't find me boring or off-putting, and knew how to keep the conversation going even when I went quiet. We definitely clicked. At the time, I didn't realise I was feeling romantically abt her. I didnt even know I was flirting. I was just familiar with the song and dance. (Turns out, my socialising looks a lot like flirting.) I was super caught off-guard when she asked me out on a date. I kinda felt like running off but I just smoothly rejected her and walked home w my friend.

"You don't even know me!" is what I wanted to say. What made her think I'm dating material? I don't see much when I look at myself and I realise it's bc I know myself way more and I'm my biggest critic, but even then... I wonder what ppl think when they look at me. What do they see? What do I make them feel?

At the event, I didn't mingle much w everyone else, was lowkey glued to my friend's side (who's way more extroverted) and I was just sipping a can and steadily getting tipsy... What tf did she see? And, will anyone else be able to see that again? I feel like she must've been real special to find me charming at my worst - i.e. me at a function. Absolutely rizzless, borderline pathetic. What if that was my one shot and I blew it? And when I meet God and whine abt being a loveless loser, He'll stare me down and say, "I sent you a baddie but you passed on her, stupid." What if I doomed myself bc I chickened out of a date w a pretty girl I definitely liked back in some ways? And how do I recover from the shame. It's been over two yrs, get over it, oh my gosh.

Bc truth is, if by some miracle, we reconnected and she asked me out again... I would not say yes. My ass is not ready for a relationship. I don't even feel like I'm made for it. I think I'm a good friend (but could always improve), an alright sibling, an alright child, an insignifiant cousin/grandchild/relative... I just feel fundamentally inadequate in relationships! Be it romantic or platonic or wtv. But where I agree that I do well as a friend, Idk that I'd be a worthwhile partner. Even tho romance is just friendship with extra parts. I could start kissing and sucking on a homie of my choosing and we'd be lovers, technically, no?

Do I not care abt romance that much or have I fooled myself into thinking so to spare my own feelings of inadequacy? Could be a mix of both. I want love and I want to experience it, but I don't care enough to look for it and I will run away from it. What a mess. What a fkg bummer.

Ah, maybe I rly did blow it. Or maybe I'm thinking too much.

Maybe I should sleep.

[caw4brandon]

The Magic of Potterverse Games

As a child who grew up watching the Harry Potter films. There's always this interest in wanting to be a part of the Potterverse. Something about the whimsical world that entrances us all to one day, join the hallowed halls and leave a mark on the universe and on Hogwarts itself.

So, with that said. Let's explore a more immersive side to the franchise that allows one to coexist in the universe with familiar faces to guide us as we navigate the world of Muggles and Wizardkind.

- There Once Was a Boy -

Destined to be a Star ~

Back when the movies came out, game developers tackled the interesting concept of doing magic like Harry Potter through the Harry Potter film-based games.

To make it short, see [Flatlife's - Evolution of Harry Potter Games] The games were made in a variety of ways. You play as Harry Potter, traversing around the grounds of Hogwarts. Solving puzzles, going to classes, and combat various foes.

Despite the fact that the graphics are simple and often seen as horrendous. The games as a whole, were considered a success. It laid the foundation for the desire to learn the skills of a wizard/witch and explore the school grounds. Applying the lessons in combat and winning the day as Harry Potter. But that left the question;

What if, instead of playing as Harry Potter. We play as our own self-insert character?

The good news is, becoming a Hogwarts student seems a lot more accessible with the mobile game <Harry Potter: Magic Awakened>

Of course, this isn't the first attempt in the Potterverse's history of self-insert games. In 2018, another mobile game <Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery> was released to the public as well as the highly anticipated console game <Hogwarts Legacy> released in 2023.

I think it's worth mentioning, regardless of your opinion towards JKR's views. The lasting effect of this franchise has raised a generation of fans and their love for magic.

- Welcome to the Dueling Room! -

As a film-only based fan of the franchise, I find that; NetEase, Avalanche, and Jam City managed to capture the wonders of using magic and being in Hogwarts. Due to the nature of the universe's magic system, the games used several ways to tackle the issue of using magic.

In Magic Awakened, the game uses a mana-point system that limits spell casting. The game also uses a Card Game base in which players can mix and match card types and upgrade for significant effects.

The cards come in a variety of references. From summons of popular magical creatures, famous props, and the spells themselves.

In Hogwarts Legacy, your spells are limited to what I like to call, a Hotkey Shortcut. By limiting the slots to four different abilities. Players can combine a limited set of spells in combat to deal with the more fast-paced nature of the game.

The game emphasizes the importance of using potions for that quick boost and custom clothes as additional cover. Because the game has a special condition/ finishers called "Ancient Magic" the player is encouraged to travel around and find unique upgrades to improve and build resilience. It's simple, quick, and also the most fun game to use magic.

In Hogwarts Mystery, the combat style is a lot slower and has a two-punch effect. The first part of the duel is decided by Aggressive, Defensive, and Sneaky moves. Similar to the Rock, Paper, and Scissors game. Which when won, allows the first strike.

After that, the player is given a list of spells with various effects. The spells can sometimes cause massive damage and sometimes even stun/skip opponents for one turn. Because Hogwarts Mystery is a decision-making game, it's often regarded as the weakest attempt at magic.

- Do you Like My Scarf? -

Magic spells aside, The game's respective story is awfully predictable and bland. From the little that I personally played and hear from the folks of the community. The three games did the safe thing by doing the <Fantastic Beasts> route.

They distance themselves to different eras of the Wizarding world's history. By the game's own description, Hogwarts Legacy is set decades before Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts. Following a special witch/wizard who enrolled at Hogwarts as a fifth year.

Hogwarts Mystery is set roughly a generation before Harry Potter. Making them seniors who just graduated when Harry just entered. Meanwhile, Magic Awakened is set after Harry Potter. Close to around the time when Harry, Ron, and Hermione's kids started their year at Hogwarts.

Each year deals with its own type danger. From a dark magic rebellion to a cursed student of a deranged sibling to whatever Magic Awakened was trying to do. (I'm a bit slow to that game)

My issue with these games is, there seems to be this tendency to make the MC a center piece to the story. While it is, after all surrounding the MC's life. I couldn't help but feel that as far as developments go. Nothing is interesting about the MC's canonical story.

The games are also wasted with issues of telling via dialogue but not showing via action. The drama of the story didn't feel as impactful. While the player's decisions can sometimes change the outcome. It is far from being as big of an influence as I thought it would.

As far as playing the game itself goes, I only played Hogwarts Mystery till year 4 and stopped out of boredom.

I am enjoying Magic Awakened so far since it doesn't make the MC take center stage but rather uses the side characters to put weight to the story and to the playable cards. Granted, I'm not as active.

That said, I am still looking at a lot of its interesting parts from an outside perspective. So I would very much like to hear a rebuttal.

- Return to Hogwarts, Join My Dorm! -

Back when I was still playing the game, I came across a few users who interact on social media as their own MCs. They would use screenshots of their characters and write a treasure trove's worth of lore and developments. Discuss their favorite crushes and build more lore upon their OCs.

Seeing the encouragement and love between users and their OCs, got me to start uprooting my HPHM character; Sadie mac Lir and interact with quite a few names in this community outside of the games.

But after realizing that the story is just not as rich as I'd imagine, Sadie transferred into the world of <Murder The Crow> following Hector Dagger, the story's original character, and was later added with Jamie Robyn who is now a placeholder in Magic Awakened.

In spite of the situation with JKR and some of the whispers of this fandom's dark side. The fandom is still going strong as ever. While I have distanced myself, I still linger with the friends I made along the way. Most come from an artistic perspective with their OCs and art in general. Some of them are just good conversationalists.

It felt like being in school again. To learn from one another, socialize among fellow housemates and discuss plans for the future and have fun little interactions. Being in cliques and enjoying the other bit of magic that is not in the games, friendship.

In conclusion, I think it's been a wonderful journey for Harry Potter's gaming side of the fandom. The games went from being Harry to becoming your own Harry. To forge your own path in a world that is rich with possibilities and build friendships in-game and out of the game that might last lifetimes.

For a fandom as big and equally as problematic as Harry Potter. The Potterverse games have proven that it truly is not our abilities that show who we truly are. But rather, it's our choices that make the significant change.

Thanks for Reading

- Caw4B -

[drowningactually]

My Review of Fashion Dreamer as a Fashion Game in 2023

I will start off expressing I did not go into or still expect Fashion Dreamer to be a Style Savvy experience. I knew it would be a different game and concept I understood that when it was advertised as an ‘influencer’ game. I do not need it to be another Style Savvy. What I do expect however are certain gameplay features that should be standards for a fashion game and I will be comparing it to various fashion games in this post when exploring my opinions.

So, Fashion Dreamer came out and within two days of its release I got to platinum rank and reached the credits and I now have a lot to say in regard to how it is as a fashion game.

I will first give points for successes in the game:

Graphics: they’re wonderful. The character models and colours are great, clothing has really improved and there is minimal ugly pixelation in designs. Environments are also visually beautiful.

Music: the soundtrack and sound design is really nice; I like Cocoon Act and the bingo music best. I also really like how you can give nice soundtracks for your showroom.

Clothing: The clothing we have so far is really modern and stylish, and while I hope we get more styles especially for unique fashion like gothic, lolita and rock there is already some great items to use.

You can play as both types of muse and have up to three. They also remain under the same brand you already have which will be good or bad to different people. I like also that its ‘Type A’ and ‘Type B’ instead of male or female, it suits how artistic, and gender non-conforming fashion can be (however I recognize there are still major issues with this in game which I will get to about gender expression…)

Type B fashion is also good, and again I hope they continue to expand the clothing options we have what we started with is already a good and it’s great to see type B fashion being given a chance to shine for once in a fashion game.

Making a brand logo has an array of cool pre-made images to utilize which is nice.

So those are things I think really stand out that I like. My list of things that need to be improved is going be more of an essay than just a bullet point list.

The Fashion Itself:

I will start with the blatant disappointment in the use of fashion in this fashion game. First of all, to launch without key accessories such as bags, necklaces, bracelets, and gloves is just not acceptable. Any fashion game would have these staples they elevate outfits immensely and it is so disappointing to see they are not there at all. It’s like having a fashion doll who only comes with a moulded-on top, cheap plain skater skirt and plastic slip-on heels. Where is the rest of the outfit? I know some items incorporate necklaces and leg warmers but they’re scarce as it is. You can’t even layer items of clothing! Layering is a key element of any styling game; how can you not include it?

My next point is the designing feature is very foundational. You get an item, and you change its colours. That is the extent of designing clothes. There is a colour slider feature for clothing but its not the most flexible working one, the other colours are by pre-mixed palettes most of which you unlock through making lookits. No way to add patterns or prints or graphics or decals. Which means essentially, we are all designing the same clothes and flooding the game with them as there is only a finite amount of colour combinations you can make. No real personalisation to your items if you can’t customize them any further. Imagine Fashion Model by Ubisoft (where you design the clothes that the models wear) at least allowed you to add some unique patterns to the clothes you designed in that game (this game came out in 2008 for the DS.)

Which brings me to my next point, the lack of a way to design your own images, icons or even patterns. Even Animal Crossing New Horizons allows you to make custom designs. Imagine how much depth would automatically be added to designing clothes if you could use your own self-made prints and patterns or graphics. Not only would it mean more varied designs to show off and share, but it would allow some leeway for cultivating styles. You take that plain t-shirt sample and make it gothic with your own custom drawn graphic, or that plain straight dress into light academia by adding personal decals. I get that since the game is online mostly there is a need to censor any inappropriate behaviour and custom graphics may make that harder, but why cut out something so integral to the process of designing clothes because of moderation issues. Just add a report item feature for players to use if they see any offensive designs (Animal Crossing has it!) And with decals having the ability to add bows, jewels/gems, ribbons, lace or chain etc. would also add good variety and its such a simple process to do.

Influencers set trends and create them. You can’t do that when we’re all designing the same items of clothing with the same repetitive colours.

I also want to add here (because I don’t know where else to say) that I have the personal opinion (and this may be controversial) that your showroom should only be able to showcase items you yourself have designed. Thus consolidation the idea of a brand, and give players a reason to explore show rooms more if they know each one will have unique items from that player’s brand, and give players a reason to build a unique personal brand in the first place (albeit with the very limited designing options.)

Gameplay features

Immediately I have to add onto everyone else that the sort of function is a clunky joke. Each item of clothing already is called its style (i.e sandals are called sandals; a top is called a blouse) so why can’t we search for them individually. Or search by colour palettes since you know what colour an item is as the game is recognizes this when you achieve a colour combination at the end of making a lookit. The game already lags HARD when creating lookits, maybe it wouldn’t if I could go straight to a shoes tab and find the one pair of heels I want without having to scroll through everything else.

I at least like I can change the sorting to having my brand at the top (there should be an option to sort by all brands anyway) which is nice but still having a much more concise and organised wardrobe would be ideal and make making lookits way more fun.

Customisation while okay is still really lacking too. The fact that you unlock hairstyles and new makeups completely randomly (and in my experience very very rarely, to the point I thought it was not possible or bugged and not implemented) is just sabotaging the whole idea of customization. That’s not even touching upon how Fashion Dreamer is missing out on the concept of styling by not allowing you to also style NPC’s hair and makeup when making lookits (this goes for online players too.) Having a real clear way to unlock more unique hairs and makeups and not the BS ‘try on’ feature should just be expected, what other fashion game would hold back these features of customization, something the game should be elevating.

Also, just really stupid to not have a way to record your own lookits and outfits. Just let me do that or give me better sorting for clothing as changing my player outfit is a daunting drag otherwise.

I already stated I don’t need this game to be Style Savvy but why is there at least not any kind of real objective? When you take in how underdeveloped the existing designing and style features of Fashion Dreamer are it makes it hard to stay engaged with the game, I keep asking myself what am I even doing any of this for? With the raking in the likes and followers its more of an idle game if anything. I make a design, I set it as my hot pick choice, and I collect some likes form other players. I repeat. That’s it. If the game had a story or consistent reason to talk to NPC’s outside of being blessed with the rare chance of getting a new eye colour the vapid designing element might be more interesting. The game even has a ‘quests’ tab but doesn’t do a single thing with it post-tutorial. I get this could just was made to just be a dress up game, but as I have already stated the dress up options are so minimal and basic its like playing a shitty mobile game.

Which is something other people have already pointed out. If Fashion Dreamer started out as a mobile game it all makes sense, the bingo, gatcha and vending machines, as well as online element and basic customization fits the mobile game mould. And yet even if it was meant to be, there are stronger (albeit predatory) mobile fashion games (looking at you Love Nikki) that do the fashion game concept so much better and even incorporate a story. For £40 I expected my mobile import fashion game to have a little more substance and try and do something interesting. Regardless of if this is not Style Savvy, Syn Sophia still made those games, those successful fashion games that did a lot of cool and fun things with the genre. Have they stopped trying with Fashion Dreamer? Is this the best they could do? Those games were so successful due to the gap in the market for girly fashion games, and now in 2023 there is still that gap I expected Syn Sophia to take advantage of that and do something exciting with the genre or at least try. There are more ‘girly’/casual and cosy gamers than ever especially on the switch, there is a market demand here so why not fulfil it?

I quickly also want to point out how disappointing it wad to reach the long and boring end credits within less than ten hours of gameplay. I really felt like I had experienced are really good game there /s. But seriously the brokenness of progression or more the lack of progression is what makes this game not even a sandbox type of experience, there is not really anything to do. The three unlockable cocoons are pretty, but void of anything interesting, they’re just the same format (main area, pop up area, salon) with varied but mostly uninteresting gatcha materials to obtain.

And while I appreciate that you don’t have to pay for Nintendo Online to play online (if you did, I would be outraged since single player is so dull on its own that paying for the game and membership on top would just be outright theft really) the lack of being able to interact with other players outside of requesting lookits makes the game feel kind of lonely? There should at least be a little more push for social interaction, some sort of chat or way to see live players in real time. Bring in a sense of community and that will push the idea of sharing designs and brands and give people a reason to play more.

Finally, while I expressed that distinguishing styles by ‘Type A’ and ‘Type B’ is good, the face that you cannot cross styles over, meaning male characters can’t wear any female character’s clothing is just well…. Stupid? I admit I am not a game developer or modeller, but just make one body type and add breasts and give the option to play as breasts or no breasts? The game already accounts for clothing being on small/tall bodies, so made it account for tits or no tits. There now everyone has access to all clothing styles, and we don’t need to feel like there is an imbalance in type A clothes over type B clothes. It’s just a really weird design choice to separate clothing styles when body types are not varied, the only differences is slightly broader shoulders, faces cross over as the face customization is just the same, so stopping male characters from wearing feminine clothes is an outdated game play choice that limits everyone (and surely results in developers having to do a bit more work separating styles?) Also allow for more diverse body types like come on.

Conclusion

Right now, this is as much as I can summarise with my feelings. The game just does feel incomplete, or like a scam. A free mobile game ported to console with no new additions riding off the idea it’s a real ‘fashion’ game. And by all means I truly believe you absolutely can enjoy the game the way it is, I will still continue to play and make a design here and there, but I think all players should know that what they have is hardly the foundations of a fashion game and for the price they deserve better and way more that what they got. There is always room for improvement and criticism without devaluing your own personal enjoyment and experience.

[dwrlm-orion]

ABOUT THE NEWEST TWST HALLOWEEN EVENT🎃🐦‍⬛

Here's things I take a notes from the event (correct me if I'm wrong or just TELL ME IF I MISSED SOME THINGS)

IMPORTANT, this is just my notes and rants so it will get messy, I mean a real mess. And I'll mix Indonesian and English language since it's easier (for me and my english it still improving, I hope). Hehe :D

It's gonna be a long post I ever type. Help

Not recommend to read since this is just my rants.

🎃

Halloween Event Tittle:

"Lost in The Book with Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas"

I wonder how Tim Burton will react to this, HE NEED TO KNOW

This is part 2 of Lost in the Book Series. Which I didn't expect tapi gak akan ku tolak 😳

Some facts yang udah terungkap sampai hari ini (btw, eventnya besok ahay GASKEUN~):

Twisted version dari Jack Skellington, named Skully J. Graves (honestly it's a cool name, and WE WON'T LET THE ENGLISH VERSION MESSED UP AGAIN JUST LIKE THEY DID TO KIFAJI AND FELLOW-ekhem)

SSR card: Leona (I CAN'T BREATH, WHERE'S OXYGEN?!!), Jamil (NJAY, JAMIL WITH HIS HAIR DOWN?!! SENGGOL DONG BOS) & Sebek (LET'S GOOOOOOOOOO BABY CROC!!)

SR card: Riddle (THIS IS HIS 2nd BOOK, GIVE HIM A BREAK. And, what in the Ciel Phantomhive???? Bro, I'll give my everything just to get your ass card, luv you), Trey (O-M-G, are you here to babysit Riddle??? or opened your own bakery in Halloween Town??? #babysitter), Jade (YOU'RE NOT TRYING TO BE SEBASTIAN MICHAELIS, AREN'T YOU?!! Nice hairstyle btw) & Idia (STAY SAFE BRO, I HOPE YOU'LL SURVIVE BRO, I'LL SAVE YOUR ASS IF YOU GET STUCK ON THE TREE- I got feeling he'll got stuck on a tree at some point)

R card: Azul (Honestly, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?? KAYA TIBA-TIBA BANGET NIH GURITA HADIR- but I'll enjoy your stunt dan skema penipuan yang akan kau jalankan MAJU KAU GURITA GULUNG!!), Vil (BEAUTIFUL QUEEN!! WELCOME TO THE NIGHTMARE- also you're here to babysit Epel??? #babysitter 2 I got feelings he'll get into more trouble because of his gremlin son), Malleus (BABY GORL, WHAT IN THE W- IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU TRAPPED HERE, SAYANGKUH!!) & Epel (DON'T GET YOUR MOM Vil INTO TROUBLE!!)

SKULLY GANTENG DAN MENAWAN BANGET PLIS (Gojo reinkarnasi ke semsta yang tak terduga ehe)

Overblot team hadir semua bos! (APA ARTINYA INI????)

Story might be follow the original movie or rather more drama and chaos?? This is NRC students we talked.

ORIGINAL JACK SKELLINGTON ON THE SHOW!! Also Sally and Zero is here?? holy- DID OOGIE BOOGIE WILL SHOW UP TOO??

And I notice the tone color on the card is more grayer or darker??? Riddle's bright red hair is supper grayish in his card. Perfect for this Halloween event :D

AND THE SANTA CLAUS?? OR TWISTED VERSION OF SALLY???

🔥🔥🔥THIS HALLOWEEN WOULD BE FIRE!!!! 🔥🔥🔥

I want to add some of movie that have been adapted to event (as I remember so far):

Tinkerbell (fairy gala?? It's fairy themed)

Pinocchio (wishing star event and playful land event???)

Hunchback of Notre-dame

Lilo and Stich

The Nightmare Before Christmas (we're here!)

What's Next ?????

And I want to make a list of potential Disney movie that might be turned into future event in Twisted Wonderland (just my hunch but we'll see #smilemenacingly):

Frozen (trapped in the endless winter??? I'm in)

Zootopia (I'M WAITING FOR THEM TRAPPED IN ZOOTOPIA AND MEET WITH JUDY. I'm watching for you, Ace)

Dumbo (obvi, classic and nostalgic. Yana-sensei will do this right?? RIGHT?!)

Beauty and The Beast (aside from Vargas, I WANT TO SEE MORE OF TWISTED VERSION OF BATB CHARACTER PLS)

Bambi (I don't know why I add this movie but I LOVE THIS MOVIE FOR YEARS)

Brother Bear (EHEHEHEHEHEHEHE)

Winnie The Pooh (I mean what's wrong with Pooh and Friends make disaster at NRC?? Crowley will be in despair and suffer, now that's gonna be delightful)

Tarzan (I can imagine the first year trying survive in the jungle. Also Rook in Tarzan cloth??? 👁️👁️)

Jungle Book (Exploring the jungle is fun, boys 🙃)

The Emperor's New Groove (WE WANT TO SEE TWISTED YZMA)

Mulan (I know what you're thinking but SILVER GONNA LOVE IT WHEN HE MEET HIS IDOL)

Tangled (Them being tour guide for Rapunzel is hilarious. They'll get more lost but who cares)

The Princess and The Frog (Swamp time people!! Also, who's gonna kiss the frog?? Lilia will)

Peter Pan (I mean it's cool but The Prefect currently experience this *side eyeing Crowley)

Atlantis: The Lost Empire (WELL- IT HAVE POTENTIAL)

And the list goes on...

WE ARE SO READY FOR TOMMOROW!! APAPUN YANG TERJADI CINTAKU PADA TWST INI YANG BERSINAR SEPERTI SINAR ULTRAFENG DAN SELUAS SEMESTA INI AKAN TETAP MENGEBU-GEBU!!!

[libraryledge]

A Part of My Story (A Reimagined Tale Set in the World of Wonka) Chapter 6

After our trip to the zoo, things were pretty eventful. We managed to get the giraffe milk from Abigail and make it out unnoticed. It was the most bizarre experience that I’d encountered, but it was also the most fun I’d had in a long time. After sneaking out of the zoo, we talked about everything under the Sun from simple things like our favorite foods (It turned out Willy loves more than just candy.) to places we’d love to visit (We both wanted to travel to New York.) to the recipe for giraffe milk macaroons (Oddly enough, it isn’t as strange as it sounds). 

Talking to Willy came so easily to me, he was encouraging, but not pushy. I loved the way his imagination was always running at full speed. It was exhilarating to converse with someone who was a creative soul, as it caused me to contemplate the dreams I had for my own life.

Willy spent the entire week, after gathering the main ingredient, working on his giraffe milk macaroons. I watched as he spent nights hunched over by the open window mixing random liquids from his travel case together. However, no matter how tired he was, he never went to sleep without begging me to read to him. I had to admire his determination and progress in improving his literacy. So far, he’d managed to learn part of the alphabet. What I loved most about these moments was how he’d close his eyes, plaster a dreamy look on his face and rest his head on my shoulder as he asked me questions about the characters in my story.

“Does Charlie have any siblings?” he asked.

“No, he's an only child.” I replied.

“Will Charlie make any friends?” 

“Hopefully soon.” 

“What is his favorite candy?“

“I don’t know.”

“It should be chocolate,” Willy told me matter of factly. 

“Ok, chocolate it is,” I replied with a smile.

That’s how our nights would go, busy but contempt. We made an agreement that we would alternate who slept on the singular bed each night, so it was fair. One early morning when I was curled up under a small blanket on the ground, I felt someone nudging me awake. Slowly, I rose to find Willy’s eager green eyes staring into my sleepy brown ones.

“You don’t happen to have any experience as a waitress do you?” he asked, as he studied me curiously.

“Good morning to you too,” I said with a chuckle.

“Sorry,” he said as he began to giggle as well. I noticed he was dressed in black slacks, a white button up shirt, a white bow tie was secured around his neck, and a white apron was around his waist. A black vest was snugly fit over his shirt.

“It’s just that I finally finished making the giraffe milk macaroons. I have the perfect plan to go sell them in town today, but we have to go in disguise,” he replied secretively.

“Where did you get that outfit?” I asked him, as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

“I borrowed it from the laundry room. You like it?” he asked me, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

I had to admit that it made him look sophisticated, and dare I say handsome? 

“It suits you.” I said with a smile.

“A play on words I see,” Willy said with an amused look. “If you like this suit so much, you’re in luck because I have another one for you.” He tossed me a pile of clothes that was neatly folded behind him.

I caught them, and looked down to see an outfit that matched his waiter attire. 

“So are you in?” he asked, silently pleading with his eyes.

“I’m guessing I don’t really have a choice here do I?” I responded with an amused look.

Willy shrugged playfully.

We arrived at the town square, and Willy directed us towards Brandino’s restaurant, where people were eating breakfast on the outdoor tables. The restaurant provided a nice time out for customers, without the excessive luxury, while still serving a high quality meal. Willy and I were hiding behind a small stone wall, observing people come and go

“Brandino’s is where people go for a romantic time out,” Willy said matter of factly.

“Ah,” I said, still not fully understanding what we were doing here.

“Which means that people might need a little boost of confidence. Love is a tricky thing,” he replied, which made me wonder if he was speaking from experience.

“These will certainly do the job if someone needs a bit of encouragement,” he said as he pulled out a bag of treats from his pocket. They were small delicacies that each consisted of two giraffe patterned cookies with a thin layer of caramel colored filling in between them.

“So they cause people to fall in love?” I asked.

Willy shook his head “That’s what my Sweet Romance Truffles are for. Which reminds me, you haven’t tasted one yet. Remind me to let you try one later.” he said much too casually. I flushed and nodded. 

“Anyway, even my truffles don’t cause people to fall in love, that’s not something that a chocolate can do. Two people must conjure the feelings themselves. Just like these…” he held up a giraffe milk macaroon. “...don’t give a person confidence, but rather provide the gentle push they need to face a daunting task at hand.”

“Ok. That makes sense, so we’re going to serve them to the patrons at the cafe?” I asked.

Willy nodded, and placed a hand on my shoulder to get me to duck down. “Look! There’s a couple coming over there!”

We watched as a man and woman walked side by side, slowly approaching the restaurant. The man wore very large spectacles and a newsboy cap over his stringy brown hair, while the woman wore a simple dress with a knitted hat over her auburn hair. The man looked nervous, as he fiddled with something in his pocket. The woman looked over at him in confusion over his jittery behavior. 

“Colin, are you alright?” she asked him in concern.

Colin swallowed and took a deep breath, as he cautiously pulled a small box out of his pocket. Willy, who was peering over my shoulder, gently gripped my arm in excitement. 

“Ooo! We’re about to witness a love story unfold before our very eyes,” he said. I turned to look at him and could see the excitement radiating from his eyes.

I watched as Colin awkwardly got down on one knee and looked up at the woman, who was clearly taken aback.

“We’ve known each other for a long time. I know I can be a bit of a mess at times, like right now I’m sweating uncontrollably…” he said.

Willy turned to look at me. “That’s always a sign of a good relationship,” he said matter of factly,

I rolled my eyes playfully and turned my attention back to Colin.

“...but when I’m with you, I have less of a tendency to do so,” Colin rambled nervously, as the woman raised her eyebrows, trying to follow along.

“ I suppose what I’m asking Barbara is, will you marry me?” asked Colin, looking at her expectantly.

The woman, Barbara, looked at him in shock as she realized that he was asking her to make a life-altering decision. It was obvious that she really loved him, but even as Willy excitedly anticipated to witness a happily ever after, I knew something was off. I recognized the look in Barbara’s eyes because it was one that I’d had upon my own a few times before. There had been a few men in my life who had treated me alright, but they either wanted something from me that I wasn’t ready to give or I felt something was missing.

“Oh, I don't know, Colin, it's just, I'm looking for a life of adventure, someone to sweep me off my feet. Could that be you?” Barbara asked gently, but determined to know the answer.

Colin’s face turned red as he stuttered and tried to answer her question, but his nervous fidgeting made it hard for him to give her a direct response. 

At last he stood up and said, “No. Not with my chronic lack of self-confidence. I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Barbara. I’d best be off. Taxi!” 

He waved at a nearby car to escape this predicament. Oblivious to Colin’s waving, the taxi continued to drive forward, right over a muddy puddle, and soaked the man from head to toe. Colin looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. I felt guilty watching the misfortune unfold. Barbara tried to rush to help him out, but overcome with humiliation, Colin didn’t hear her and instead walked over towards Brandino’s to find a towel to dry himself off with.

I was so engrossed in the situation that I forgot Willy was peering over my shoulder, watching the couple until we almost bumped heads.

“Well that didn’t go too badly,” Willy said, as if we didn’t just watch a heartbroken couple go their separate ways.

“Excuse me?” I asked, wondering if we witnessed two different incidents unfold.

“Trust me. I’ve seen worse. Husbands and wives shouting at each other. Unusual public displays of affection. Love makes people do unexpected things,” Willy said with a small shrug. 

“This however is just a crisis of confidence. Once that is solved, then they will live happily ever after like in a storybook,” he proclaimed.

A twinkle crossed his eyes. “Hey! You should add romance into your book. I’m a sucker for a sweet love story “

The way a dreamy look crossed his face as he said that filled my stomach with butterflies. “I’ll think about it.” I replied, twiddling my thumbs.

“Anyway,” he said, breaking the trance. “That’s where we come in!”

“Us?” I ask, confused by what he meant by that statement.

“With the giraffe milk macaroons!” he said excitedly.

“Oh, right!” I said with a nervous chuckle, remembering that was the reason we were there in the first place.

“Colin has taken a seat at the table over there. I think it’d be amazing if some waiters would help him in his current predicament. I’m sure Barbara would approve,” he said pointing to the young woman who was sitting on a bench across the street looking distraught.

“Trust me. They’ve never had chocolate like this!” he said, as he smiled at me. He held onto the bag of macaroons with one hand and my hand with the other. As we hurried to catch up with Colin, I felt the warmth of his palm against my own.

When we reached restaurant, Willy handed me the bag of sweets, but not before he took out three of the treats and placed them on a plate from a nearby stack

“Are you sure that the waiting staff won’t mind that we do this?” I asked as I watched him secure a napkin around his arm in perfect waiter fashion. It was surreal because he blended right in, but yet there was something about Willy that still made him stand out from the monotonous staff of waiters at Brandino’s.

“I don’t think anyone will disapprove of us helping out a fellow who is down on his luck. It’s for true love’s sake after all. Who could say no to that?” he asked me, the twinkle returning to his eyes.

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and nodded. “Ok then. Let’s hop to it.”

“I love your positive spirit!” Willy said, and I felt myself glow under his praise.

I watched as he took the plate with him and tucked it under the napkin he was carrying. The plate disappeared from the sight of the patrons at the restaurant. If I hadn’t seen him put the dish away, I would never have known he was carrying it.

Willy approached Colin with a dignified air and in his best French accent said, “Uh monsieur can I help you?”

Colin looked up in dismay. He let out a defeated sigh and asked, “Oh waiter! Do you have anything for a broken heart?”

Willy looked left and then right, as if checking that no one was eavesdropping. 

“So the taxis never stop, The girls think you’re a flop, You're wet and cold. You're getting old. Your confidence is shot," he said.

Colin sighed, “Sadly, it’s true.”

Willy gave him a sympathetic look, and he removed the napkin from his arm to pat some of the remaining mud from the taxi incident off of Colin’s shirt.

Willy continued, “When people look at you, they seem to look straight through, or like you're something brown they found upon the bottom of their shoe.”

Colin looked at him inquisitively and said, “Have you been following me?”

I did a slashing motion across my throat to signal to Willy to stop and get to the point before Colin thought we were stalkers. Willy nodded and waved the napkin in front of him. Like magic, he made the plate of macaroons reappear on the table. I watched in astonishment, and he winked at me. I still didn’t understand how he did it, but Willy was quite the magician indeed.

“This should lift your gloom. My giraffe milk macaroon. Just eat a few of these, soon you'll be feeling ten feet tall!” Willy said, gliding the plate across the table towards Colin, who curiously inspected the treats before taking a bite of one of them. 

Willy watched him expectantly, and I held my breath, waiting to see what effect the macaroon would have on Colin. Suddenly, he sprung up from his seat like a jack in a box, and he had a huge smile plastered on his face.

“I feel incredible! I could take on the world! I feel a pep in my step!” Colin exclaimed. 

Much to my surprise, he jumped upon the table and began to tap dance. I couldn't help but let out a laugh at the surreal nature of the situation. Not wanting to miss out on the excitement, Willy hopped onto another table. The two men began to surprisingly move in sync.

A small crowd began to form, and they eagerly watched the performance. Willy was practically beaming at this point as he’d attracted the attention of a diverse group of people, whom he could sell his creations to. Amidst the hullabaloo, one of the waitresses from Brandino's came rushing over to see what the commotion was.

She saw me standing there, and inspected me as if to say “Do I know you?” Instead she directed her attention towards Willy and proclaimed, “He doesn’t even work here!”

The waitress rushed to get the table cloth off of the table to prevent it from getting soiled with footprints. As she inspected it for damage, she realized that it incredulously was spotless. I chuckled. Willy’s ideas may be wild, but they never caused any harm, just pure elation. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Barbara get up from the bench where she was sitting and cross the road towards Brandino’s. She stood in front of the restaurant watching Colin and Willy in amazement. 

She approached me, her eyes still glued on Collin, and asked, “I’m sorry, do you work here?”

“Uh…for today, yes,” I replied, sincerely. “Have you come to watch the show too?” I asked, trying to make conversation. 

“Not exactly,” Barbara replied. “I want to apologize to someone. I hurt his feelings, and I care deeply for him. I’ve always been an independent soul on a quest for adventure. I just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t lose that if I chose to commit to someone else.”

“I understand. Taking new steps in life can be confusing, but taking a leap with someone else shouldn’t have to mean leaving behind what you love. In fact, I think having someone you care about in the picture adds on to what you already have,” I replied, realizing that I was speaking from experience. 

I’d left so much behind when I left Nicaragua, but meeting Willy helped me realize that I didn’t have to go through the experience alone. I always considered myself an imaginative person, but Willy took that creativity to the next level and every moment with him was quite literally, magical.

“He’s amazing. Isn’t he?” Barbara asked me with admiration in her voice.

I watched as Willy sold his chocolate creations to eager customers. 

“Yeah,” I replied in a whisper. It took me a second to realize that Barbara was talking about Colin. “Oh! You should go over and talk to him. I’m sure you two can work it out.” I said quickly.

Barbara nodded, gratefully at me. “Thank you,” she said to me.

As she walked towards the restaurant, she made eye contact with Colin. Excitedly he hopped down from the table, and met her with outstretched arms. 

“Madame. Just one kiss?” he asked her, with the confidence of a peacock strutting its new feather. Barbara looked both pleasantly surprised and thrillingly enamored as she held her arms to embrace him. I watched as they locked lips and appeared to be lost in a world of their own as they sunk into one another’s warmth.

As I observed the lovebirds rejoicing, I felt a warm touch upon my own shoulder.

“I told you they were going to have a storybook ending,” a voice said from behind me. I looked up and saw Willy grinning at me.

I smiled back at him, and then I directed my attention back to Colin and Barbara. “How do you do that?” I asked him.

“What? Kiss?” Willy asked, as if he was genuinely contemplating the idea.

“No!” I said with a giggle. “Connect with people. You have a way of bringing the best out of others, even when they don’t see it in themselves. It’s a gift you possess.”

“Oh stop it! You’re making me blush,” Willy replied, waving away my compliment. Unlike other times when he fully accepted the praise, I could see that now his cheeks were in fact a little rosy. I smiled.

“I think it’s because you’re doing what you really love. Someone once told me that love makes people do unexpected things,” I replied, quoting back what he’d told me earlier.

As I watched the smile on Willy’s face grow larger, I felt a giddy sensation inside of me. Earlier that morning when we headed out to Brandino’s, I had no idea what to expect, but now I could say with certainty that it was one of my most memorable experiences in London to date. That was saying something since I’d recently encountered a puppy powered washer, seen people levitate off the ground, and milked a giraffe at the zoo. It was surreal, and I loved it because it provided wonderful inspiration that would come in handy when writing my next chapter.

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Custody Battle--Four Seasons

The Ritual of Propagation has succeeded. Aziraphale and Crowley are ready to welcome the newest member of Their Own Side. But the Archangels have other plans. No young angel has ever been raised outside their closely guided care, and they have no intention of changing that.

As Aziraphale, Crowley, and Kokabiel get ready for breakfast, their peaceful morning is abruptly interrupted. Their next visitor has arrived...

(Chapter has CWs for mild violence and panic attacks. Whole fic has warnings for noncon, emotional manipulation, and more--please check the tags carefully!)

Read it on AO3!

Aziraphale hummed cheerfully as he chopped ingredients, keeping an eye on the sizzling sausage and hot oils dancing in the pan.

He’d started making crepes, as planned, but he’d found the scent of the batter… uninspiring. Even when he switched from strawberries to a lovely mix of raspberries, blackberries, and loganberries picked from the garden—a bit of tartness to counter the sweetness… well, one sniff and he knew that wouldn’t do at all.

But as he rummaged about the kitchen, he soon discovered what he was in the mood for.

The sunlight streamed through the windows as he set to work, shifting the enormous pan over the gas flame. The perfect morning for a meal on the garden patio, soaking in… everything.

“Mmmmmh…” Crowley sighed, coming up behind him and sliding his arms around Aziraphale’s waist. “I think I called it. Those are some funny looking crepes.” 

“Oh, hush, you.” Aziraphale expertly shifted the sausages to make room for the bacon. “I thought a little change was in order, and Kokabiel likes watching the pan, don’t you my dear?”

They bounced excitedly across his wing, not leaping as high as yesterday, instead trying to match the spattering, cracking sounds of the oil in the pan.

The scents filled the room, warm, savoury, and crisp. Sausage and thick back bacon, as well as black and white puddings. Now he just had to sear the tomatoes, caramelise the mushrooms, fry the bread, then take care of the baked beans and eggs. He’d even managed a bit of laver bread, though something was still missing. A bit of trout, perhaps, or some cockles…

“You sure you want fried food?” Crowley asked, one hand running idly along his wing. “How’s your stomach?”

“Much improved, thank you for asking.” Aziraphale nudged the bacon, making sure it cooked properly. “My appetite has quite recovered; not a hint of nausea to be found.” He flashed a smile over his shoulder. “And how are you?”

“Awesome,” Crowley said with a lopsided grin. He’d changed his clothes, now sporting a snug-fitting lacy black corset top under one of Aziraphale’s dress shirts, unbuttoned and flowing loose. They, and a few mis-matched necklaces, worked together to draw attention towards his bosom, which appeared to have grown even larger. “Shower was a good idea.”

“Naturally. It was one of mine.”

Crowley snickered, leaning closer to press against his angel. “Not your only good idea…” He kissed Aziraphale’s cheek, damp hair brushing both their faces.

Aziraphale immediately shoved him away. “What—what is that horrid— stench?” He pressed his hand to his nose, trying to block it out.

“What? I—I don’t—” Crowley sniffed his own hair. “Not me. Did the eggs go off?”

“I haven’t started them yet—and I know what rotten eggs—this isn’t foul, it’s…” He tried to pull his hand away and… no, there was the nausea, back in full force. “Oh!” Aziraphale slammed down the spatula, stepping away from the stove. “It’s no good.” He jerked open the nearest window, taking one deep gulp of air after another, hoping that would rinse the horrid malodour from his memory.

“I… I guess this is a new shampoo,” Crowley admitted, twisting his hair up into a knot, “but it barely has any scent!”

“Well. One of us is mistaken.” Another breath, and his mind started to clear. But his stomach still churned uneasily, and the thought of standing over the stove for another twenty minutes made his knees weak. “If it isn’t the shampoo, it must be something.”

A brush of fingers running up his back. “Do you need me to—”

“I need you to give me space!” He swatted Crowley away, fanning his face with the other hand. “It’s—I’m sorry, I just need you to… get rid of that smell!”

Brow furrowed in confusion, Crowley sniffed the loose shirt collar, then bent almost double trying to do the same for the low-cut corset top. “I… I tried one of those little potpourri things in my drawer? Is that it?”

“I can’t even think!” Aziraphale pushed past him, sprinting up the stairs. “I will find that scent and exorcise it from this house!”

“Angel, you can’t be—wait!”

“No! You’ll thank me when it’s gone. Good Lord, Crowley…”

“Just… leave my deodorant, alright?”

Aziraphale paused at the top of the stairs, leaning against the bedroom door as he fanned himself, chasing away the summer heat. A distant, hazy thought slipped across the back of his mind, not quite fully formed. Confusion, protest, and a sense of curiosity.

“Well, I thought it was entirely necessary,” he grumbled in response to Kokabiel, still trying to get the awful smell off his tongue. “Really, he has no sense of moderation or—or anything when it comes to trends and fashion. If the humans declared walking around with kippers in their jackets to be cool, Daddy would have them bursting from every pocket. Absolutely insupportable.”

The curiosity drifted away, turning in slow circles, then rushed back, nudging an impression, the ghost of a memory, into his mind. For a second, Aziraphale could smell it again—too chemical, too sweet, and an undercurrent that was downright astringent. The memory alone was enough to make his stomach roll. “Yes! Precisely that! And we can’t let Daddy get away with it, can we?”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Crowley appeared at the bottom of the stairs, waving the spatula at his husband. “I’m not going to take this from someone who hasn’t changed his cologne in five years!”

“A classic scent never goes out of fashion!”

Kokabiel’s attention began to drift away, unable to follow the conversation. But they quickly brightened as another memory rose up in their mind: clematis and jasmine, magnolia and sweet alyssum, and over it all, the smell of honeysuckle: sweet and heady, citrus and vanilla.

“Yes!” Aziraphale beamed at the youngling. “Oh, look how clever you are. Yes, we want Daddy to smell like the garden, not like a chemical plant explosion. Why don’t you set things up outside, dearest, and air yourself out?”

“Fine, fine, right after I finish cooking your breakfast.” He pointed the spatula like a sword. “You’re lucky that I love you.”

“I truly am,” Aziraphale agreed wholeheartedly. “Mind you don’t burn anything.”

Read the rest on AO3!