#a couple things i need to do before proceeding any further:

[blackjackkent]

All right, going to properly play a bit of BG3 tonight, since I basically only played the intro cutscene last night. :D

As always, block "#bjk plays baldur's gate 3" to avoid the liveblogging shenanigans.

We left off with Hector in the flaming wreckage of, as the area name states, "A Nautiloid In Hell". What is the Nautiloid and how did it get to hell? WHO KNOWS!

Hector is definitely not having a good time right now. This man has lived in a monastery for decades and on his first major traveling out into the real world got snapped up by a demon squid creature and has a worm inside his eye now. The only thing preventing him from having a panic attack is pure adrenaline.

The Nautiloid is apparently still flying - there's hellish landscape rolling by outside the ripped open side of it. There are a few dead mind flayers on the ground and a few pods with dead prisoners inside them.

Looting around, we find some gold in a chest, and also that Hector will cheerfully walk into fire if I tell him to. (It hurts.)

At the other end of the room is a giant tentacled object called "Restoration" which healed me for my full hit points. Nice!

Next to it is uh. This.

Gross. I'm going to guess this is the door? 😬

It sure is. And I hate the noise it made opening.

The next room is full of more flames, more dead things, a really creepy voice whispering "Help usssss...", and some really uncomfortably-named items like:

and

and

and

I think the weird voice is coming from this unfortunate bastard sitting twitching on a chair on the upper level:

So let's go check that out.

Oh god what the fuck.

Hector> O.O

Oh that is an AWFUL sentence.

This is uh. Upsetting. Hector is really trying to keep his cool here but he's not doing a great job at it.

Intelligence check!

This unlocks a truly unpleasant medicine check (with advantage):

Sure, why not. Hector is just doing things on instinct at the moment, hoping that maybe this is some kind of terrible nightmare.

This is really a lot to deal with just after waking up.

I'm not entirely sure what the actual intended best call is here, but I think Hector is freaked out enough that squishing the creepy talking brain definitely feels like the right decision.

Dexterity check...failed.

Hector awkwardly tried to shove his thumb into it and then it squirmed out of his hand and turned into this.

I don't think it liked that.

Luckily it didn't seem to want to fight, but it did scurry off into the wreckage, hopefully never to be seen again.

Hector goes back to internally panicking.

[alicenthighstower]

TILE TRANSITION TUTORIAL

a couple of people have asked me for a tutorial on how I did the penultimate gif in this set, so here goes! this is my first tutorial, so please feel free to reach out with further questions if anything's unclear.

note: this tutorial assumes you know the basics of gifmaking, can create the base gifs, and are familiar with timeline mode.

STEP ONE: create the base gifs! I'd recommend staying between 25-40 frames for each gif, since the transitions we'll use later tend to increase gif sizes. these are the ones I'll be using for this tutorial:

STEP TWO: create the guide layouts for both base gifs. for this panel, I chose a 4x4 grid — I would recommend keeping the number of "tiles" low because it can get tedious, but have a minimum of 9 (3x3 grid).

now your canvas should look like this:

STEP THREE: create the tiles. this is where the going gets rough; there might be easier ways to do this that I couldn't think of 😭 if there are any please send me an ask!

essentially, in this step we'll cut up the base gifs into smaller squares so that each tile can be manipulated separately when we put both gifs together. to do this, first create a square using the rectangle tool and the guides. then duplicate the base gif, move it above the square, apply a clipping mask, and then convert the clipped gif and square (selected in the image below) into one smart object.

ALTERNATELY: you could duplicate the original base gif and use layer masks to isolate tiles. create a layer mask for the duplicated gif layer and, with the layer mask selected, drag your mouse over a square (using the guide layout) and press delete. then press ctrl/cmd + i to invert the layer mask so that the gif only shows in the square of your choosing.

now repeat until you've got the entire gif in tiles, and do the same for the other gif!

since the transition effect is achieved by staggering the crossfades for each tile of the final gif, you can cheat by having multiple tiles "flip" at a time, ideally no more than four. this means you need to cut the base gif up into fewer pieces. to do this, simply draw multiple squares instead of one and then merge the shapes, before duplicating and clipping the gif onto them.

if you do this, it's essential to remember that you have to divide both gifs up in the exact same way. each piece of the b/w gif has to correspond to a piece of the purple gif!

this is what the layers look like for each gif once I'm done:

I have them lettered so that it'll be easier to match them up in the next step.

STEP FOUR: this is the complicated bit that took me two days to figure out. I'll do my best to explain but don't hesitate to reach out if something isn't clear!

to begin, open up a new psd and import both base gifs into it. (remember to click "create video timeline" and ensure that your gifs are all in order before proceeding.)

now, the trickiest part about this transition is ensuring that all the little tiles sync up so that the larger gif is coherent. so first we'll create some markers (just empty layers) to ensure that everything lines up as it should. — marker 1: at about halfway through the first gif (b/w in this case) — marker 2: at about a quarter of the gif length — marker 3: close to the end of the gifs

at this point we're ready to start bringing in the tiles. I'm going to delete the base gifs from this new psd just to keep things cleaner!

first thing to do is import my b/w tile. move the timeline slider over to marker 1 and split the first gif. (if it helps, rename the split gifs and add (start) and (end) to the two halves.) then, move the (end) half to the beginning of the timeline, and the (start) half to line up with marker 3.

the purple tile is easier to manage. simply import it into the psd and line it up with marker 2.

your timeline should now look like this:

notice the overlap between the gifs at their beginnings and ends — this is where you'll be able to cascade the tiles flipping, so it helps to have a significant amount of overlap.

crop the three gifs for this tile as you see fit! since this is the first tile I want to flip from b/w to purple, I'll crop gif 1a (end) all the way to the current position of the timeline slider (red line with blue tip) and leave the beginning of gif 2a uncropped. for the flip from purple to b/w, I'll crop both gifs a bit.

once that's done, drag all three gifs onto the same level in timeline so they form a video group. your timeline should look something like this:

now you just repeat the process for all the other tiles! as long as you made sure that all the tiles in one gif correspond with tiles in the other gif in step three, this should be a fairly painless process. make sure to crop the starts/ends of the gifs separately so that they don't all flip together.

this is what my layers look once I've done all the tiles:

and the gif!

STEP FIVE: transitions! click on the half-white square (top right of the left column in the timeline, beside the scissors) and select the crossfade transition, then drag it between two gifs in a video group. it should create a two-triangle symbol and shorten the overall length of the video group.

apply the transition to all the tile flips, ensuring that the duration of all transitions is constant. this can sometimes be tricky because ps likes to change the duration of each transition, so right click on the transition symbol and manually change all your transition durations to be the same.

your layers should now look something like this:

STEP SIX: draw the grid. bring back the guide layout from step two and using the line tool (I like 2px thickness), trace the grid. adjust opacity as you see fit (50-80% is usually a good idea), so that the canvas looks like this:

STEP SEVEN: export and celebrate! you're done!

I hope this tutorial made sense and was easy to follow, and happy giffing! my inbox is always open for any questions <3

[thehistoriccemetery]

Hi!!! Absolutely love your writing :)

Idk if you’re taking requests but if you are:

Been having a tough time lately, would it be possible to have the female companions (plus Aylin+Isobel) comforting Tav/Reader during a panic attack?

Thank youuuuuu sending you all the love and good vibes

BG3 Ladies Soothe a Panic Attack

I was honestly unsure I’d ever able to do this prompt justice, especially given how differently every person’s needs are in such a situation. But I felt inspired to give it a shot anyway! I hope it’s alright!

I also send good vibes and well wishes to all my fellow panic attack having soldiers.

In the spirit of trying to keep it vague, this one is pretty short. But without further ado, here’s Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, Minthara, Jaheira, and Isobel and Aylin!

Shadowheart

Shadowheart knows all the clerical tips and tricks that are gonna get you through this you through this.

As soon as you’re in full blown panic she’s got an ice spell at her fingertips, placing her cold hands on your face especially around the eyes.

She kneels down next to you. “Alright love, I need you to breathe with me,” she commands, modeling the most effective breathing techniques.

She’s very soft, nearly whispering so you have to really focus on her in order to understand what she is saying.

She’s very liberal with her praise, telling you how good you’re doing with every breath you’re able to match.

When the panic subsides, she instructs you to rest. She’ll lay with you if you’d like, but you need to rest for at least a few minutes before proceeding with life as usual.

She brings you food and water, taking the opportunity to make sure you’re taking care of yourself in general. You have to eat and drink at least a little bit before she’ll let you go.

She also wants to have a little chat about the root of the issue. What are some of your triggers? What are some things that help you specifically?

Next time, she’s gonna be prepared.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel is not the gentle type when it comes to these sorts of things, though it’s not something she’s entirely unfamiliar with.

When she sees the panic set in, she’s the first to pull you up to your feet and have you do jumping jacks or something.

While any observers might think she’s being heartless or unemphatic, the adrenaline actually works pretty well to pull you out of the panic fast.

She doesn’t make you feel embarrassed about it at all. She simply squeezes your arms and nods in understanding. It happens to the best of us.

Lae’zel is, shockingly, largely unfazed. You get the sense that she dealt with this before. Perhaps she even dealt with panic attacks herself in her youth.

She thinks it’s best to resume normal activities immediately, though she’ll secretly be keeping a special eye on you the rest of the day.

Karlach

In seeing your unbridled panic, Karlach starts to get a little panicked herself.

She just doesn’t really have any experience with this sort of thing and is completely unsure of what to do.

Her first instinct is to hold you, but if you put up any sort of resistance at all she backs off immediately.

Whether you are in her arms or simply next to her, she whispering words of affirmation. But she’s unable to come up with much more than “it’s okay, soldier. It’s gonna be okay. You’ve got this.”

When you’re no longer gripped by panic, she’s still not entirely sure what to do. She’ll take your lead completely. Though she’s not entirely convinced that a simple “back to business” is the best course of action.

She’ll probably want to cuddle or at least hold your hand for a while just to make sure you’re truly alright. If she’s being honest, the ordeal gave her quite a scare. But she absolutely will not make this about her right now.

She’s going to be checking in on you pretty consistently over the next couple days. She may even get some pointers from Shadowheart on what to do if it ever happens again.

Minthara

Minthara’s first priority is privacy and protection. Anyone who isn’t her isn’t allowed to come anywhere close to you. Not when you’re this vulnerable.

After everyone is gone and out of earshot, she asks “Would you like to be held?” She speaks with the same tone and cadence she’s always using. Nothing about her softens.

If you say yes, she’ll silently pull you into her arms, allowing you to sob and heave into her chest until you recover.

Pretty much anything you need is fair game. She will not stop you from clutching at her clothes or skin, even if you accidentally hurt her.

If you say no, she’ll simply sit next to you in silence, occupying herself with a silent menial task. She will allow you some space, but she will not leave you entirely alone.

Either way, anyone who values their life will stay away from you; she’ll make sure of it.

You expect her to lecture you about such a blatant display of weakness, but she doesn’t. And anyone who would dare even mention it will receive a glare that makes them think better of it.

Jaheira

Jaheira’s first tactic is similar to that of Lae’zel. She tries to get you moving until the endorphins help you overcome your panic.

It’s honestly frustrating how effective it is. The height of your panic subsides quicker than it ever has before.

She is, however, quite a bit gentler afterwards. She has questions. Is this a frequent occurrence? What triggers your panic? How can we avoid it in future?

When you express to her your concern about your anxiety making you a weak link, she is quick to shut down any doubt that you are less valuable for this.

She’s raised enough children to know it takes all sorts of strengths and weaknesses to round out a team. Even those on the softer side have their purpose.

She eventually convinces to start taking more days off, especially when the task at hand has a high likelihood to push you beyond your limits.

Isobel and Dame Aylin

Dame Aylin pulls you into her arms. Even if you struggle against it at first, she just holds you tightly against her chest and gently shushes your sobs.

Meanwhile, Isobel handles the situation very similarly to Shadowheart, bringing her clerical knowledge in to support you.

She strokes your face with cooled hands, not minding the way tears pour relentlessly down her hands. All while a strong Aylin gently kisses the crown of your head.

Aylin shields you from the world with her wings, only allowing Isobel close. Anyone else will receive a gentle yet firm “Begone.”

When it’s over, Isobel tells you to rest. She’ll probably insist prefer you came back to/stayed at camp with her for the rest of the day.

As loathe as you are to miss out on a day on adventuring, Isobel’s company makes for the best afternoon anyone could ask for.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hobie brown x male!spiderman!reader where they’re “boyfriends” (more like best friends with benefits type thing) from different dimensions and haven’t seen each other in a while due to reader being kind of busy with SM stuff but one day reader shows up to hobies dimension in search of comfort because a canon event caused his older brother to die! Loving your hobie fics btw your whole blog is just good asf😭🫶💞

Here ya go! I hope you like it and I thank you for your kind words, they really mean a lot as I haven’t been feeling that great as of late, so this really made my day.

You felt as though you couldn’t breath, like the breath has been ripped straight out of your lungs, leaving you to struggle in finding fresh, unpolluted air to take in, to revitalise your lungs from the damage they’ve received; But you weren’t going to get that if you were to stay here.

Your head and heart were murky with every emotion imaginable trying to overtake each other as your primary feeling whilst your body was screaming at you to run, to leave, to get away because he was already dead before he even hit the ground; reminding you that you could mourn the dead later but as of right now you needed to get to the place you felt safest. But you weren’t going to get that if you were to stay here.

So without putting in much thought into anything anymore with your mind so far from reality and your emotions in a state of self destructive chaos, your change of scenery wasn’t brought into question until you heard the familiar sound of a guitar playing before it immediately stopped, only for it to be replaced by the sound of curious footsteps that grew in volume with they’re impending closeness. You knew those footsteps by heart and the type of shoes that made them but knew the male who wore those platforms like the back of your hand; Hobie’s warmth brought you a comfort that couldn’t be recreated nor imitated because even if it was even remotely the slightest bit off, you body naturally rejected it and would indiscreetly crave for the real thing.

For nothing could bring you more comfort, more sense of mind then being in Hobie’s arms.

‘Y/n?’ Even at the sound of his voice had your guarded walls crumbling.

‘Hobie, please tell me that’s you and not some sick trick of the mind.’ You whimpered, clutching the vest that he had left in your dimension between tightly clenched fists, while remaining adamant on keeping your back to him until you were for certain that he was in the room, talking to you, almost as though you were reassuring that deep seeded doubt that he was alive and okay.

In a couple of strides Hobie had his front pressed against your back as his arms cocooned you tightly in a method of preventing you moving away from his hold. ‘Does this feel like me?’ He asked softly, his heart hurting as he watched you instinctively huddled further into his chest until practically all of you was submerged against him. Just as your tears had begun to fall down your cheeks and creating wet patches against his shirt that you were adamant on clinging so desperately to. ‘Oh pretty boy.’ Hobie utters as he tightened his hold on you, allowing you to weep freely without judgment as all he wanted for you to do in that moment was to let it all out in whatever way you found best; whether it was to scream, cry, punch, or otherwise, Hobie would rather you be vocal about you pain rather then subduing it for a later date.

‘My brother died Hobie,’ you wept. ‘he died and I couldn’t save him, I wasn’t fast enough to reach him, I wasn’t strong enough to catch him as he fell, I wasn’t able enough to change anything.’ You gripped his shirt even tighter as you clenched your eyes shut as the imagery of the prior events proceeded to mock you of your biggest failure as Spider-Man as you added in a near inaudible whisper. ‘I don’t deserve to be Spider-Man. He’s meant to save people, not lead them to their deaths.’ Hobie knew that you didn’t meant for him to hear any of the last part but he very much did and felt that it was within his due diligence to remind you of how utterly bullshit that statement was because he’s making damn sure you don’t quit being what you so clearly love.

‘I want you to listen and listen good because I want what I say to you to stick with you so that when you get like this again, you’ll remember your worth and what you’ve always been fighting for; hope.’ Hobie began. ‘You were meant to be Spider-Man as much as I or any other Spider-Person in existence. Miguel’s bullshit has made you think that your value is based on the pain and the suffering we’ve endured and how there’s nothing we can do to combat it once it comes for us again, and again, and again. Forcing you to your knees in grief and sorrow but you want to know what you should do when that happens?’

‘What?’ You asked, removing your face from his chest to look him into his deep eyes with bleary eyes, practically melting into his touch when his hands moved to cup your face, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks free of tear streaks. ‘Get back up.’ Hobie tells you. ‘Get back up because the fight ain’t over and it’ll never be over if you decide to give up now.’ He then sighs as he presses his head against yours in order to get closer to you. ‘Look I know it’s hard to keep going when they’re no longer here to root for us, to be there for us when we lick our wounds but it’ll only ever feel like that because you actively choose to stop remembering them, to stop honouring their memory within your heart, stop remembering their love and stop seeing them in everything they’ve touched, that’s when you know true loneliness. But your brother is still here,’ Hobie then brought one of your hands and pressed it against your chest to where your heart lied.

‘He’s right here and he will always be here, I will always be here for you in the moments you seemed to have lost your fighting spirit, to loose the willpower to keep going because I’ll happily carry you on my back until you do because that’s what we do, not only as Spider-Men but humans also. It’s practically in our nature.’ Just as Hobie was about to pull his hand off of yours, you were quick to grasp his hand and pulled it back towards you but only to place it over your heart, pressing you own hand atop of his to keep him there. There was a lot you wanted to tell Hobie that could wait until you were in a much better situation but even then you still had a lump in your throat that hindered your ability to speak your mind freely; which never usually happens when you’re with Hobie and it seemed as though he had caught onto this as well as he smiled reassuringly. ‘It’s okay, take your time.’

‘Will you stay with me? Just for a little while longer.’ You finally asked, racked with nervousness and anxiety as you fiddled with his fingers for his response. Hobie’s smile widens as he closed his eyes, brushing his nose against yours all the while making sure to keep you close in his embrace. ‘I’ll stay even long after you’re done needing me because I will always be standing in your corner, pretty boy.’

[deleteddewewted]

Breaking news! Pro heroine calls boyfriend daddy in public!

You can choose who, and whether on accident or purpose

Hawks x Fem! Reader

NSFW

W: Fem! Reader, Hawks, Teasing, Hawks does have butt feathers, he's silky smooth, Fingering, Public Sex, Daddy kink, Sub! Hawks, Dom! Reader

If you'd like to support my work (Check my Ko-fi and Throne!)

You had been teasing him since early morning. He woke up hard as a rock and wanted to fuck it out of his system but you had him punished for his misbehavior the day prior. You didn't grant him relief, just stimulation. You let him fuck between your thighs but didn't let him cum. You told that if he wanted he could wear a cock ring and plug if it made it any easier on him. He agreed and he promised he would be good today since he wanted to so desperately fuck you.

"Baby you dont get it. I need you. I don't think I can go the entire day without touching or even rubbing one out at the thought of you." He whined. He had his arms wrapped around you, his head placed in between your neck and shoulder.

You were standing outside and were taking a break from patrolling so he could mope. The original plan was to grab something to eat but he decide he wanted to just stand around and whine about how cruel you were to him.

"Continue with that attitude and you won't get to cum till tomorrow night, baby." He groaned at your remark and just kept his mouth quiet.

A group of fans flacked up to you and asked for autographs and photos. Neither of you denied them their requests, the attention was good for PR since being seen out and about as a couple would help solidify your relationship publicly.

"H/n! Whats it like to date the #2 hero?"

"Are the rumors true? Does the carpet match the drapes when it comes to Hawks?"

"Do you both ever plan to marry?" Multiple people shouted out at the same time, many of them insistently demanding an answer.

You merely shook your head and laughed to yourself about how ridiculous the entire thing was. But you decided that maybe you could use this opportunity to have some fun. Maybe mess with Hawks since no one truly knew what he was like in regards to his personal life.

"I can assure you that, daddy here, has the prettiest butt feathers anyone has ever seen." You joked.

The crowd all began to squeal at the new, but fake, information about your boyfriend and proceeded to ask even more questions. Some caught on to your use of the name "daddy" and insisted you talk about what other pet names you had for each other.

Typically, a coming like this would have him squawking out at you or at the person who made the comment but he stayed silent. Instead, when you turned your head to face him you noticed his face was bright red. He coughed and excused himself but not before you noticed that he had grown a bulge. You held in a laugh before excusing yourself from the crowd and following closely behind Hawks.

"Oooh birdie~. Where are you~?" You teased.

Hawks flapped his wings at the petname before sending you a glare and proceeding to walk away from you.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" You knew that shiver that ran down his spine wasn't from the wind.

You got closer to him, grabbed him by his jacket, and made sure to press him against the closest wall. He let out a gasp as the rough surface met his back and whimpered when you pressed your knee against his crotch.

"Come on, Daddy~. Tell me what's bothering you." You started to kiss his neck and opened up his pants zipper so your hand could slip in.

"Fu-ck~." He couldn't help but groan as you began to stroke him.

He rolled his hips towards your hand and whined when you teased his tip with the top of your finger. You pulled down his pants and underwear and spat on your hand before wrapping it around his now-exposed length. He tried closing his legs, the cold air making goosebumps appear on his skin, but you didn't allow him to. Instead, you made sure to push them further apart and used your free hand to slowly circle and prode his hole.

"Baby, please~ I can't- I'm gonna cum if you keep touching me like that." His voice shook as he spoke but he didn't stop you.

You finally inserted a finger inside of him and slowly pushed it in and out of him all while you slowly kissed up his neck and eventually his lips.

"Fuck~, please. Mommy, please~" He felt his eyes roll back all while you continued to fuck him open with your fingers. You swallowed all of his moans and whined as you kissed him, at some point shoving your tongue into his mouth just to get him to quiet down.

You added a third finger once you knew he was close to cumming and vigorously trusted them inside him. He choked on his own moans and scratched at your back as he tried stabilizing himself. His legs gave out under him and used you to support himself up. He felt so good as he felt your fingers curl inside him and rub against his inner walls.

"Come on, Daddy. I know you can be good and cum for me." You pulled at the feathers above his ass and watched as he let out a scream.

You added one last finger and thrust it as deep as his body would let you. He came all over himself, his clothes, and the wall he was leaning on. His legs shook and gave out beneath him as you took them out of him.

"You did such agood job for me, Daddy~" You chuckled as you watched him struggle to catch his breath and dress himself. His pants were ruined and there was no way for him to walk out without people knowing what had just happened between you two.

[lazykatie]

What could’ve happened at Castlecoming Week (Part 1)

Pairing: Young Captain James Hook x Princess Bridget of Wonderland

You can find the part 2 or part 3 here.

You can find the Aftermath of the Castlecoming Ball here (part 1, part 2, Part 3).

James Hook is bored, to say the least. The thing that happened to Uliana earlier has been a source of amusement for him. But, it didn’t last long as the said girl was hard to calm down afterward. 

Now, he’s on the bustling streets of the town right next to Merlin’s Academy. He rolled his eyes at the couples on the street, all buzzing about Castlecoming. Sure, he understood it was a big deal, even Hades and Maleficent were going. Heck, even Uliana and Morgie are going. Although, that’s just going to be Morgie following Uliana like a lost puppy.

He sighs and stops at the store, or rather a boutique. Yes, he’s going too whether he liked it or not since his, ugh, “friends” insisted on him going. What can he say, if he’s going, he needed to impress the ladies.

He enters the boutique. The first thing that stands out to him is a certain bubbly, pink-haired princess of wonderland. She was trying out, ugh, pink dresses, no less.

This is going to be fun.

“Why fancy seeing you here, Pinkie.” Hook said, his voice dripping with mock surprise as he circled around her.

“Hook!” Bridget jumped, clearly startled. She seemed tense, likely still rattled from the fiasco with Uliana.

He continued to circle around her as he scanned her from top to bottom, with his hook on his chin.

Bridget gulped before she started, “Uhm, how is Uli doing? Is she alright?” 

Hook stopped in his tracks and laughed, the sound sharp and humorless.

“Uli,” he stressed, “is doing fine. You shouldn’t worry about her.”

He moved in front of her, using his hook to gently lift her chin, bringing her face close to his. “You should be worrying about yourself after the stunt you pulled earlier.” 

“I didn’t mean any harm. I warned her about the flamingo feathers.” She said, looking down, guilt clouding her expression

Hook smirked, stepping back. "Bold of you. Most would just stay out of her way." His gaze lingered on her dress. "And even bolder to be out shopping for a dress, knowing Uliana’s got it out for you now."

“Was it really that bad?” She asked with hope in her voice.

“Well, lass.” He moved his face over to her shoulder and whispered, “Why don’t you tell me.”

He moved away with a smirk on his face, curious. What in Merlin's world is running through her head? She’s constantly tried to bribe them with some treats to be her friends. No one can actually be that nice, right?

“I-” Bridget struggled to find the right words.

Hook raised his eyebrows, urging her to continue.

“I’ll make it up to her!” She declared with a determined face.

He just laughed, hysterically. He couldn’t really predict her.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He said as he proceeded to find a tuxedo suited for him.

Before going any further, he stopped on his tracks and turned to Bridget’s direction.

“Red.” He said as she glanced in his way. 

“Red would suit you, Pinkie.” 

“At least with red, it wouldn’t look like a unicorn barfed all over you,” he added, then headed to the men’s section.

Bridget watched him go, a smile forming on her face. She couldn't help but feel she might have gained a friend—an unexpected one in Hook.

~~~

A/N: (○•○) Maybe that’s why she named her daughter Red. I totally ship!!! (♡v♡)

Edit: Sorry for adding this here but I hope you can make time to see this post. Someone is in need of our help. Click here to see

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

May Writing Challenge Day 20,21,22!

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Male Reader Summary: Chris gets a booboo and reader gives him a band-aid Words: 816/200 Warnings: blood? Notes: I cant tell you how many times I rewrote this, I wanted to try to write in a different style but when I tried nothing sounded right or it all sounded too dramatic and poetic.

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The store is deserted when Chris walks in, a few lights in the back had been turned off, the absence of the clerk behind the counter. The atmosphere was haunting and after the shit Chris went through not three hours earlier, he was caught off guard. Too caught up in his head he doesn't realize he’s hovering by the entrance until he hears a rustle coming from a door off to the side behind the counter. Chris’ hand reflexively moves to his hip only to remember last second that he’d left his gun in the car. But before he can overreact any further, you emerge from the door holding a broom and dustpan. 

Upon seeing Chris you look surprised, “Uh, hey…” You fumble, not expecting to have a customer this late but you’re quick to recollect yourself, you set the dustpan on the floor and lean the broom against the wall. “Anything I can help you with?” You look a little intimidated and Chris almost feels bad but he snaps himself out of it with a shake of his head. “No, I'm fine.” – “You sure?” The rate at which you respond catches Chris a little off guard, “– It’s just… I mean…” You trail off like you’re struggling for words and point to your forehead, “You’re bleeding, dude.” Cris raises his brows, the sting reminds him of the cut on his forehead. Shit, he’d completely forgotten. He raises his hand to feel up his forehead and sure enough, there's blood when he pulls his hand back. 

It's not as bad as it was earlier but it seems to be enough to have you, a complete stranger, looking worried. “Wait right there.” He has a feeling he knows what you’re going to do but you don’t give him time to object. You head back through the door you came out of, Chris stands there for a couple seconds feeling like a moron before proceeding down the aisle to the wall of freezers to get what he came here for. He’s gotten his items and came back to the counter just as you walk back out of the door, of what Chris assumes to be a break room, carrying a first aid kit. He opens his mouth to object but you fix him with a glare that shuts him up. 

“Come here, i’ll fix it for you so you don’t kill yourself on the drive home.” You walk around the counter, stopping next to him to set the first aid kit on the counter. Chris’ eyes stay glued on your hands as you sort through the box and pull out the things you need. He’s never actually paid that much attention to you, always in a hurry to get home. Your hands actually look quite nice and when you touch him, your fingers carefully prodding at his jaw to get Chris to face you fully, he notes pleasantly that your hands are as soft as they look.  You’re not quick at patching his wound, you’re actually quite clumsy. 

Your hands shaky and unsteady as you pat the alcohol wipe around the area, sponging up blood and cleaning the cut. It stings but Chris is too focused on you, your hands, your eyes, your warmth. Your eyes are deep and dark, pooling with worry and concern as you take in the weathered look of his face. A small part of him has the wherewithal to try to feel self-conscious but the majority cant find it in him to care. You look almost as bad as him, worry lines on your forehead, dark bags under your eyes, anxiously chewed on lips. 

Your eyes fall to his once you've stuck a bandaid onto him and for a moment Chris swears he feels a spark in his gut, almost like butterflies when the two of you realize how close your faces actually are. But he doesn't get any time to ponder what that could mean as you turn away from him and hurry to clean your mess. You dump the used cloth and the wrappers into the trash as you walk around the counter and set the first aid kit to the side so you can ring him up. You’re quiet throughout the process and when you finish you quietly recite his total, not once during this do you look up at him. A part of him feels a little upset but that's overshadowed quickly by how amusing it  is to see you scurry around like that. 

Chris takes it easy on you and pays without a fuss, he takes his things and heads out to his car as you close up the store behind him. He waits long enough to see the lights go out and when he looks down at his receipt to total the money he’s spent, down at the bottom in a hurried scrawl he reads out your number.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Another instalment of dinky Scott at School - I think there are (as yet unwritten) scenes in between these but I figured I’d get the key ones down then have a look and decide if it’s actually a story to flesh out or just a series of snapshots to leave as is.

Apologies to any actual teachers who may notice I am playing fast and loose with how such things might work in real life.

Disclaimer: Teeny Scooter does not actually appear in this bit, but is much discussed…

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THE Jeff Tracy.

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t spent most of the night revising the 6 bullet points she wanted to cover in that one 12-minute parent-teacher conference. She’d quietly ensured the slot immediately afterwards was unbookable just in case things… overran.

None of the other teachers had met him, only the mother, who by all accounts was very pleasant. She hadn’t expected him to come, assuming he was probably on the moon or something equally intrepid. But the little box next to the number 2 had been ticked on the form so unless it was a grandparent or something…

The fancier biscuits she’d picked up from the store had just been a whim… sometimes she wanted to bring a bit of luxury into proceedings, that’s all it was…

Oh heck she’d bought fancy biscuits. Just like the hopeless fangirl she was. As if he’d notice anyway?

The first parent had noticed and seemed to enjoy their chocolate dipped Viennese finger biscuit. So it was worth it.

The second set of parents hadn’t turned up at all which left her with an agonising 18 minute wait.

It was fine. Just another PTC with some totally normal parents hoping to hear what a delight their precious offspring was. And she intended to thoroughly emphasise that part right at the outset because he really was.

The other notes she had would also be fine because she had considered every possible way of delivering them and had figured out the most persuasive.

All. Fine.

She needed another word for fine.

A gentle tap-de-tap and the door cracked open to reveal a waterfall of red hair and a very friendly face. Behind, even taller than he looked on tv, towered the man from the all those documentaries she’d binge-watched as a student.

Definitely just a normal PTC.

Felicity Miles, teacher, champion of tiny people, competent human, took a breath and greeted the couple with professional confidence and a welcoming smile.

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In the last five years she’d broken similar news to four other sets of parents, and observed her mentor do similar in her training year. Not a big enough sample to be conclusive but the fact the reaction had been the same each time had lulled her into a complacency about what to expect.

It went something like - shocked faces, initial denial, possibly a little anger, guilt that they hadn’t known, 3 of the mothers and 2 of the fathers had cried. Then, usually, she could see a little relief creeping in…. The hope that it hadn’t been something they’d got Wrong after all.

And then a brief conversation about what could happen next and arrangement of a meeting to discuss further when they’d had time to think. She’d hand them the department of education-approved info leaflets and smile and promise it would all be alright.

This one wasn’t going the way it should.

To start with there was zero surprise. Not even a flicker. In fact they’d looked at each other and smiled, before patiently listening to the rest of her little monologue. Right up until she started outlining the stages in the school’s neurodiversity support pathway at which point Mr Tracy had lifted a hand and cut in:

“There’ll be no need for anything formal. He’ll learn to manage his difficulties and he’ll overcome them.”

Felicity did her best to ignore the calm tone in his voice that simultaneously commanded she agree with him, advised it was a done deal not worth fighting against and reassured her that he was obviously right and it was all for the best. She pictured the desperate little human curled up in the Octopus House and tapped into the protective rage it generated:

“I don’t think you understand, Mr Tracy. A diagnosis would mean he could get that little bit of extra support he needs, perhaps a Teaching Assistant to keep him on track and help with refocussing when he gets distracted. He could have occasional time out on special programs to develop his interests, as I said he really does excel at maths and…”

“Ms Miles, please stop there a moment.”

She did so.

A few seconds later she remembered to close her mouth.

“Are you aware of what Scott wants more than anything in the world?”

She clenched her jaw in an effort not to snark back “a glimmer of self-esteem?” and thought about what seemed to make her zoomy little friend the happiest. The answer left her mouth before she was aware she knew it:

“He wants to fly.”

It was his mother who sighed and spoke next, the slight unevenness of her voice probably undetectable to someone who hadn’t spoken to a LOT of exhausted parents:

“He does. He always has from the moment he realised he couldn’t. Even before he really understood what airplanes were, he’s been fascinated by them and has been determined to reach the sky to join them. He seems to view gravity as a personal insult…” she chuckled then added “Being a parent to Scott Tracy is 90% catching him as he leaps from places he shouldn’t according to all the laws of physics be able to reach.”

Her husband reached over and squeezed her hand with an affectionate smile and added in a much softer tone:

“In his pram he watched the birds, it was the only thing that settled him. You won’t be surprised to learn that all of his bedroom decorations are aircraft-related. He’s not even remotely interested in space travel or what his mother and I do other than that we both flew planes first.”

Felicity could see it all but felt the conversation had gone off on a tangent. She took charge again and tried a different tack:

“But to achieve his goal he is going to need to have decent grades at the end of his education and the foundation of that starts here. He has so much potential and… look, I couldn’t give a damn about the class interruptions, please don’t think that is what this is about. I can handle all that, it’s what’s going on in his head, how he sees himself and I think we need to have something in place so that he and all his future teachers understand that… I hate to say it but for some, a formal diagnosis is the only way to persuade people that a child isn’t deliberately…”

“Ms Miles.”

The sigh escaped this time.

“Yes, Mr Tracy?”

“Do you happen to know the criteria one must fulfil to train as either a commercial airline or a military pilot?”

“Offhand? Not, precisely, no.”

“There is also an exclusionary list. Certain conditions, diagnoses, other events on a medical record that may prove to be a barrier to acceptance. Many people in the field don’t agree with everything on the list, but at the moment it exists. You’re clearly a smart woman, Ms Miles, and I can tell you’ve already worked out one of the conditions noted on that list.”

He wasn’t wrong. She hadn’t released her breath since the word ‘exclusionary’. But it forced its way out now in a quiet groan and then a whisper:

“ADHD.”

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[cyber-night]

Gnosis sex with Scaramouche.

Content warnings SMUT!, Sub Scaramouche x Dom Reader, Not Betad, Fisting, Incorrect usage of the electro Gnosis, multiple orgasms, Scara is referred to as Doll and puppet like once, consensual!, safe and sane if you squint and look past the fact that it's Scaramouche smut and that he is decidedly Not those things, that's all I can think to put but if I missed something tell me!

And as promised @dottcre from -🫀

Ever since Scaramouche had acquired the gnosis he hadn't been paying you much attention. You understood how important this was to him but it had been over a week of him working non-stop to figure out how to put the gnosis in his chest where his heart should be and frankly it was starting to frustrate you.

After yet another day of being ignored in favour of the gnosis, you were fed up with him. You didn't need to search for him to know where he was he was in the room he had made into a makeshift lab. He's surrounded by papers and books with a book in his lap and the gnosis in his hand being rolled back and forth between his fingers "Scaramouche?" You asked tentatively figuring it was best to see what his mood was before proceeding. "Not now I'm busy," He says without looking up from the book he's reading. You clicked your tongue before walking over to him. "Any way I can help?" You ask watching him to figure out where his head is at "have you considered leaving me alone" is his cold response. Rolling your eyes you respond "Scara it's been days. You need to take a break. Sitting here for hours isn't going to help."

He sighs finally looking up at you he looks exhausted even for a puppet "and how do you suggest I take a break?" You smiled before kissing him hard you reached over and snatched the gnosis from his hand before pulling away "I have a couple of ideas" you said as you pulled back. He trys to snatch the gnosis from your hand but you moved even further back. "Humour me Doll I think I can help you relax" He tsks before finally relenting and leaning in to kiss you again and again as you plop down next to him.

He climbs into your lap as you wrap your arms around his waist still holding his gnosis. You had planned on being gentle with him today since he'd been working so hard but it seemed he had other ideas as he sank his teeth into your lower lip hard enough for you to taste the metallic tang of blood. Your hand snapped up to rest at his throat, an empty threat really as he doesn't breathe but a good reminder of who he belongs to. You push him back to look into his eyes. "Since you want to be a brat go ahead and strip for me. You think you can do that for me my pretty doll?" He glares at you but pushes himself back out of your lap and starts to take his clothes off while you fiddle with the gnosis.

He climbs back into your lap once he's completely naked but he can't meet your eyes as he now realizes he's the only one naked. Before he can complain you start pressing kisses to his neck and collarbone before biting and sucking marks into them. You set the gnosis aside so your hands can roam up and down his sides. One hand snakes its way to run through the hair at the nape of his neck pausing at where you know the electro sigil is placed pressing against it almost reverently. He always despises when you show the mark any affection hating its origin with a passion. Your other hand trails down to completely engulf his already hard and leaking cock not stroking it but squeezing it and running your thumb over the tip. He pulls back "If you're going to fuck me hurry up and do it then" you can tell he's trying to sound demanding but it comes out more as a whine.

You roll your eyes and shuffle back towards the unused bed roll that is spread out to one side. He follows you onto the soft mattress and you pushed him down onto it before settling between his legs and trailing kisses up his abs. You try to remember if there was any lube anywhere close by before realizing your hand was already soaked in his precum from squeezing his cocklet earlier. You shove two of your fingers all the way into him and watch him wince at the suddenness of it. You run your hand up and down his hip as you give him a moment to recover. "Is that better? Hmm?" His teeth are clenched and his breathing is uneven as he hisses out "good, your finally doing something about the mess you started." You roll your eyes "Scara, is it possible for you to go one day without being an insufferable brat?" You ask as you start to pull your fingers out and roughly shove them back in. It takes him a few minutes to respond, already starting to lose himself to pleasure. His eyes roll back as he bites out a Fuck you to which you respond by adding another finger alongside your previous two. He chokes out a moan.

An idea pops into your head and a wicked grin spreads across your face as you stop moving your fingers so he pays attention. He opens his mouth to complain before you beat him to it "Doll, do you think your pathetic little hole can fit my entire fist?" His eyes widen and his dick twitches at the idea as he flushes bright red, after a moment of silence from him you ask "Can I try?" He nods his head slowly while looking away too embarrassed to look at you. You could just accept that but he's been such a pain in the ass you decide to make him say it "I need words Doll, you gotta tell me what you want me to do to you." He shoots you a glare that is made significantly less effective by the way his cock is practically pouring out precum. "Yes, you can" He bites out. You tilt your head playing dumb "I can what? What is it you want Doll? Use your words." He huffs and waits expecting you to just get on with it and when you don't he gives you a desperate look before caving "I want you to fuck me with your fist . . . Please" he looks away in shame. "There's a good Doll, see that wasn't so hard was it?" You say as you add yet another finger and start ruthlessly thrusting them in and out of his hole abusing his prostate.

After a few more minutes of just teasing him you pull out and reach behind you to grab something from earlier and set it off to the side before press your fingers against his waiting hole again. "You ready, Doll?" He nods, he looks like a mess already tears stain his cheeks and precum stains his abdomen. You slowly press your hand into him watching it get swallowed by his greedy fuck-hole once your in up to your wrist you reach up and take his hand and guide it down to feel. He groans and his eyes roll back in his head as he cums for the first time that night. He instantly starts babbling about how good it feels and to please move, he needs you to move and other desperate nonsense. You indulge him and spread your hand a bit letting your fingers trail over his walls and start to pull out only to push back in you set a good pace if fucking him with your fist. You reach up and wrap your hand around his dick and start to jerk him off in time with the thrusts from your other hand.

"Please I need your cock I took your whole hand! Can I take your cock now? P-please?" he begs. You pause the thrusting of your hand and tilt your head pretending to consider for a moment before responding "Hmm I suppose you have been good but first there's something I want to do" He struggles to push himself up onto his elbows and looks at you in confusion. You hold the gnosis up for him to see and watch as the realization dawns on him and maybe if he wasn't so desperate he would have objected but as it stood he could only whine and let his head fall back. You chuckle darkly as you tapped it against his lips he got the message and opened his mouth sticking out his tongue which you also tapped with the gnosis before shoving it down his throat causing him to gag but him being the good slut he was he took it never looking away from you as you fuck his throat with the very item that's supposed to give him his power. Once you think he's done a good enough job you pull it from his mouth and trail it down his chest letting it graze by his dick to rest against his empty hole. You rest a hand on his stomach before pushing the gnosis and your whole hand inside of him. You nestle it right against his prostate and pull your hand out leaving the gnosis behind.

His reaction is instant. He jolts collapsing back onto the bed and lets out a high-pitched whine. He's drooling and crying as he tries to get out words "O-oh fuck I can . . . I can feel the elemental energy pulsing from, from it fuck" you tilt your head and out of curiosity push your hand back into him causing him to whimper and rest your fingers over the gnosis. He's right, you realize, you can feel small electro pulses emitting from it. You can't help but laugh. "Maybe it doesn't belong in your chest then Doll. Maybe it should be in your ass, right against your prostate, forever." He opens his mouth to argue the logic of that but you feel a stronger electro-pulse release from the gnosis cutting him off and causing his whole body to twitch. You pull your hand out again and lean back on your hands leaving him to the mercy and whims of the gnosis. You can tell the pulses are getting stronger and more frequent by the way his body is shaking. His back arches on a particularly strong pulse. You reach your other hand over and press down on his stomach wondering if you can feel the electro pulse through his body. You quickly discover that you can and reach up to untangle one of his hands that has the sheets in a vice grip and put it over his tummy saying "Feel" He lets out a sob as he cums again. It takes a moment but you can see that he's still hard and leaking "P-please more" He begs.

You smile as you reach into his waiting hole again and take the gnosis by the base and start to thrust it in and out of him never completely removing it from him. You eventually start roughly fucking him with it and letting him become a crying, drooling, moaning mess. "Please I need you in me please fuck" He struggles to get out in-between moans. You decide to have mercy on the pathetic puppet and line your cock up with his well-stretched hole letting it rest against it for a moment before stuffing it into him in one go. Your dick hits the electro gnosis and pushes it into his prostate he practically screams as his back arches. You figured the electro pulses would be just as strong for you as they are for him but they feel more like pleasant tingles than what are clearly strong shocks for Scara. He starts fucking himself back on your cock before you even have a chance to move and for a moment you let him content to watch him writhe on your dick. Growing bored you grab his waist to stop him from moving and start fucking him, truly fucking him, your cock pushing the gnosis against his prostate again and again. He's gone practically limp at this point nothing more than a fuck Doll, a toy, for you to use as you please. You can feel your own orgasm getting closer and you can tell that he's also on the brink of cumming once again. It's not long before you're both cumming him first and you seconds later.

You collapse to the side of him so you don't crush him and when you check on him you see that he's passed out. Maybe you two should experiment more with the gnosis later. For now, your main focus is making sure your darling brat is okay.

[snootlestheangel]

Snootles is losing her mind so she's being horny on main please ignore

Proceeding to project like a motherfucker

Anyways I blame Tats for feeding into my brainrot (she's not really to blame but ya know, love her) @stuffireadandenjoy

18+ Minors DNI

Imagine it's finally a quiet week at the end of several very busy months for you and your partner Kyle Garrick. For at least, two months he had been in and out of contact while on assignment, and when he was at base, life was just as busy. But not that you had been doing any better. You were short staffed at work, and you were forced into picking up the slack. Normal hours felt horrible as you were drained of all your energy and then some every day.

But Kyle never seemed to lose the energy to send you sweet messages any time he had a moment. It's not like you had slacked off on checking in on your partner, but it's never been easy for you to find the right ways to approach it. His job and the mental toll it has on him was something you'd never be able to fully understand, and you knew there were things he'd take to the grave.

But there was just something about the way he expressed his concern for you and your civilian life. The way he'd send a message on a random Thursday afternoon wishing you the best of luck working overtime on the weekend. There was something so innocent and sweet in the way he'd send you a selfie, the largest, proudest grin on his face, and he'd tell you he just kicked Soap's ass in Mario Kart because they finally had some downtime. It'd make your heart flutter when he'd say he hopes that you and your friends have more fun when you get to see them again.

He was just so good at showing he cares about you over the phone, and it felt unfair. You were much better with your words, with your affections, when you had him next to you.

So when the week finally came where you were both home and not overworked, you were going to make sure he knew how much you loved him by the end of it.

The first couple of days were lazy, spent lounging on the couch in each other's arms and catching up on some shows. Although, far too often, you caught yourself drifting off to sleep to the gentle whispers of his breathing and the steady thrum of his heart. It felt good, to lay on his chest and be safe, at rest away from the pressures of the outside world.

But then you had finally caught up on sleep and were feeling refreshed. And with feeling refreshed, so had the guilt of not showing your love for Kyle during your time apart. It was a weird feeling, one because you knew Gaz would tell you not to worry about that. Your difficulty with expressing things through text or over the phone was something you two had talked about well into your relationship, and he handled it so gracefully, you truly believed him when he told you he'd always know how much you love him. And two, because you knew your relationship was more than just sweet "I love you"s over text.

But this particular day, the guilt was eating you, and you felt the need to prove your love to your partner.

You had left the living room for just a brief moment to swap the laundry over, and your heart skips a beat at the sight you returned to. Kyle had been laying on you before you left, but in your absence he had rolled onto his back, and his shirt had ridden up just enough to expose a bit of his stomach. Like magnets, your hands find their way to the sliver of skin showing, gently pushing the fabric up further to expose more. Your hands slowly trail along the bit of stomach just above his pants, slightly pinching the layer of fat that was most prominent there.

Mesmerized, your hands found their way to his hips, following the dip, letting your thumbs slip under the exposed waistband of his underwear. A hand meets one of yours, wrapping his fingers around yours. You smile sweetly at him, shifting yourself to lean over him, peppering his stomach in light kisses. Without words, without asking, as your hands push his shirt up higher, he shifts and finishes taking it off himself.

For a moment, your eyes meet, and the glint in his eyes tells you he knows exactly what you're up to. You smile as you push yourself up to cup his face in your hands, peppering kisses on his face. His hands find their way to your hips as he catches your lips with his own. You moan slightly as the kiss deepens, his tongue slipping into your mouth, your hips pushing against his hands at the sweet taste of his tea from earlier that lingered.

You break away and trail kisses across his jaw, down his neck. Open mouthed kisses follow along the line of his collarbone, down between his pecs. Your hands find their way to his sides, slipping down to rest at the waistband of his pants, pinkies slipping under the line of his boxers. Your lips find their way along his chest, tongue flicking out to see if you can taste how sweet he is.

Kyle lets out a surprised gasp as you lightly bite him before gently wrapping your lips around his nipple, fingers digging into his hips. You couldn't help yourself, but the growing ache between your legs as you had your beloved all laid out beneath you was too much.

You needed him.

A hand trails to press against the growing bugle in Kyle's pants, lips catching his moan. His nails dig into your hips as he bucks, quietly begging for more.

"I love you so much." You whisper against his neck, your kisses all tongue and teeth as he lets out another breathy moan.

"Gonna show me how much?" He breaths back, and you match his cheeky grin, just before letting both hands meet at his crotch. You don't need to respond, you let your messy kisses along his stomach speak for you. Kyle's head drops back as you begin to tug at his waistband, kissing along his faint happy trail.

You were never very good with your words anyways.

[that-gay-person-27]

Spencer Reid Imagine Part 1

I sat crying on my bed…again. It’s been 85 days since Spencer went to prison, and 80 days since I was last allowed to see him let alone have any sort of communication with him. After the first visit it was hard to see him, he already looked so broken, and when I went back again fr the second time I had found that my name was no longer on his list. I couldn’t see who was on the list, but from the pitiful stare of the prison guard I knew that I was the only one taken off of that stupid fucking list. I know that at some point I had to move on from this and get back into my life instead of wallowing away in my self pity. I got up and out of my bed and got myself fully ready for the day so that I could get myself a pick-me-up, and that’s how I ended up here. At the sketchiest record/book store that you could possibly imagine. From the outside it looks like the kind of place that someone wild get murdered in, but on the inside it feels cozy because of the soft lighting and the faint song of music playing in the background. While looking through some records I caught a glimpse of messy hair go by the window. I miss him so much that my mind is playing tricks on me…fuck. After leaving the record store I got a call from Penelope. “Hey Penelope, you know that I love hearing your voice, but why are you calling?” “Well girl genius, cause you asked so nicely, I just wanted to see if you heard the news! I haven’t heard from you in a while so I thought that I would just check up on you”“What news are you talking about Penelope?”“Wh-what do you mean, they didn’t tell you…he didn’t tell you?”“Who Penelope?”“It’s Spence…he got out…like three days ago.”I start to tear up and try to keep my voice levelled, as to not concern Penelope.“I’m going to have to let you go Pen, I have to figure some things out. I love you, bye.”I hang up before she can speak any further, and that’s when I fully broke down, angry tears running down my face. I wasn’t just sad, I was angry! He promised that I would be the first person that he would tell if he got any news about getting out of prison, or for anything else, and then he broke that fucking promise. I went back to my apartment after some creepy old guy kept on asking me some awkward sexual questions based off of my emotional state.

When I got back to my apartment I took the elevator up to my floor and when the doors opened there was Spencer, looking guilty and emotional. Instead of scoffing I took a deep breath and proceeded to fish my keys out of my bag, quietly opening the door to my apartment not saying a word to Spence… no Spencer. “I am so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking and I know that you’re mad but I’m here now so doesn’t that count for anything?”I stay silent.“Will you please just talk to me?”“Spencer, I will say this as nicely as possible, so will you please just leave and we’ll talk about this later.”“Can’t we just talk, I don’t know why you need to take some time but-““But what Spencer? I had to find from someone else that my boyfriend was let out of prison three fucking days ago and not once did you ever try to let me know?”“I know, and I’m sorry-““You were released three days ago and you didn’t even come home. This is your home…I thought I was your home, your family. Where did you even stay?”“I stayed at a friends house while I got back some sense of normal.”“What friend, what was his name?”He began to speak but stopped, head hanging low.“What was his name?”Very silently he said a name I hoped I would never hear again “Maeve”.A couple years back, before me and Spencer were dating, Spencer got out of a relationship with Maeve after he cheated on Spencer, got pregnant, and tried to convince him that he was the babys father.  She also caused him to relapse after I helped him got clean“Spencer, I will ask you one more time, will you please leave so I can compose myself as much as possible so that I might be ready to talk to you and not go fucking crazy.”He doesn’t say anything more and just gives a pathetic nod before he turns around and walks out the door, closing the door behind him.

I grab my phone and call Penelope.“Hello you beautiful amazing human being! How may I help you on this not so fine-fine day?”“Hey Penelope, could tell me who was on Spencers visitors list. I just need to double check something.”“Of course lovely, there’s Me, Rossi, JJ, Luke, Tara, Stephen, Emily, and…oh…”The line goes silent.“Penelope, was the last name on the list Maeve.”“It was and I am so incredibly sorry, if there’s anything I can do then just let me know. I am here for you.”“Thanks Penelope, I’ll talk to you later.”That’s how I ended up in my bed again, only this time I wasn’t wondering when the love of my life would be released from prison. I was instead wondering what the fuck I was going to do now. What will happen next?

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s HS SSR Story: Carefree Years (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a story, 岁月无忧, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

Do remember to read the event stories beforehand for further info and understanding: ♡ || ♡ || ♡ || ♡ || ♡ || ♡ || ♡

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【Subbed Video】

Work in progress, will add the link once it’s uploaded :>

【Transcript Version】

[Notes]: The story is told from young Victor’s perspective + includes the narrator’s POV towards the end sporadically~ 💕

—

【Chapter 1】

It’s early autumn, and Loveland City hasn’t yet shaken off the lingering summer heat. The breeze, still carrying the residual heat, slips through the cracks of the windows into the dormitory, dispelling the slight chill. 

The hour hand of the alarm clock by the bedside is about to point to six. I roll out of bed, pick up my toiletry bag, and turn around, heading for the door. 

—

Once I’m done freshening up, I plan to go to the cafeteria for breakfast before heading to the classroom to drop off my backpack. 

Considering the time required for submitting summer vacation assignments, preparing for the first class, and accounting for any unforeseen circumstances… 

I should have enough time before I need to be at the playground at 7:30 to confirm the final proceedings with the emcee of the flag-raising ceremony. 

??: Morning, Bro Vic~ 

A slurred voice sounds from the side just as I wipe the water off my face, and then that familiar face comes into view. 

With his mouth full of toothpaste foam, Zheng Xi tilts his head back and makes gurgling sounds as he rinses his mouth. His hair is so disheveled that it could hide a couple of eggs within. 

Victor: Morning.

Victor: It’s rare to see you not stepping on the dot. 

Zheng Xi: New semester, fresh start. Besides, we can’t lose face to our seniors. Must follow the examples of Bro Vic! 

Victor: Don’t make things harder for yourself, and don’t end up straining your neck when the time comes. 

Zheng Xi: …cracking cold jokes on such a hot day. I must thank you for it. 

As he speaks, he haphazardly wipes his face a few times and then carelessly tosses the toothbrush into the washbasin. 

— 

The corridor has become much livelier when I walk out of the dorm room again after changing into the school uniform and hanging my backpack over my shoulders. 

Accompanied by the sound of flowing water, the jingling and clattering sounds reverberate through the corridor in the early morning. The doors of different dorm rooms swing open and then close, as if orchestrating a concerto unique to high school life. 

Walking beside me, Zheng Xi suddenly begins to talk. 

Zheng Xi: You haven’t said hello to our new roommates yet, have you? One of them was in Section 6, and the other was in Section 9. 

Victor: Oh, didn’t we have a quick encounter earlier? 

Zheng Xi: Saying hello means introducing yourself, not just exchanging a brief glance and nodding, okay? 

…it seems like one summer break isn’t enough for someone with a young-at-heart mentality to have much growth. 

Victor: If only you could channel this meticulous attention to every wording in your reading comprehension, “Empress Dowager Hu” wouldn’t call on you to answer questions every class. 

Zheng Xi: Don’t jinx me! Also, my mom practically had detained me these past two months to catch up on Chinese. Who knows, I might have improved by leaps and bounds. 

Zheng Xi: Speaking of which, why would teachers like “Empress Dowager Hu” who receives awards yearly, teach liberal arts classes? Oh well, damn lucky Wu Xing! 

Victor: Well, that’s not necessarily the case. 

Victor: I’m afraid pulling up the Chinese language grades for a student like you who is biased towards specific subjects is more about showcasing your skills. 

As expected, the wails of anguish resound. I shake my head helplessly, finding myself already somewhat accustomed to this. 

I just can’t wrap my head around how this guy who’s been getting nearly perfect scores in math since the first year of high school can be so one-track-minded in other subjects. 

— 

As we walk into Section 1 of the first year, I find that quite a few students have already arrived. Among them are both familiar and unfamiliar faces. 

Some are in groups, chatting about their summer vacation experiences, while others sit alone at their desks, organizing their textbooks. 

I cast a brief glance at the seating chart on the blackboard and quickly find my name. 

Surprisingly, it’s the same seat as before. That’s actually good. 

Just as I’m about to lift my foot, I notice the person next to me is still squinting while trying to find his name. 

Victor: You can stop searching; you’re in the first row. 

Zheng Xi: … 

After setting down my backpack, I find that inside the desk, there’s a carton of milk, its outer packaging still oozing moisture from the condensation.

Whose is this? And why is it placed here? 

Before I can even inquire, my arm is poked with a pen cap. 

I tilt my head and see a boy I’m not that familiar with pointing at the milk carton in my hand. 

Boy: Um… I put it there. Don’t take it the wrong way–– I’m just helping someone out. I’m delivering it for a girl who used to be in my former Section 6. 

Zheng Xi: Whoa–– it’s been ages since I’ve seen a scene like this. I almost feel like I’ve traveled back to our first year. 

Zheng Xi walks over to poke his nose in as he hears the noise, wearing a gossipy look. 

Zheng Xi: I know many folks from Section 6. Who is this brave soul? Spill the beans. 

Boy: Uh, she specifically told me not to disclose her identity… 

Zheng Xi: F*ck! Quite smart to keep her identity under wraps. It’s a shame, though, cause she’s also fallen into the pit. How come she hasn’t heard about our Bro Vic’s wide reputation for being strictly incorruptible and not getting anywhere near girls? 

He lowers his voice as he speaks, feigning a sense of mystery. 

Zheng Xi: Besides, there’s a name this guy keeps murmuring about in his dreams all the time…

Victor: Was your summer vacation too boring since you had to keep these words pent up for two whole months? 

Victor: Here, drink this to moisten your throat. 

Victor: So you don’t get stuck while trying to recite Classical Chinese in the first class. 

– 

I toss the milk to him, grab the speech notes, and stand up to walk out of the classroom. Sure enough, a wave of cries akin to “wailing ghosts and howling wolves” follow from behind.

Zheng Xi: See– see! Such foul temper and unapproachable look on his face! I bet it won’t be long before everyone who wants to give him a gift will be scared away! 

It’d be the best outcome– ideal to avoid any complications. 

– 

I stride down the stairs with big steps, until the refreshing air fills my nostrils. 

Victor: [murmuring to himself]  …how could I possibly sleep-talk in my dreams, [sounds as if he’s telling himself–]  idiot. 

Thinking about Zheng Xi’s incessant chatter leaves me speechless. Even though they all unanimously claim that I do mention that name in my sleep, I remain skeptical. 

While searching for information about the orphanage incident, it's highly likely that I came across the compiled data from the past few years. 

Inhaling a deep breath, I continue walking toward the playground. 

To be honest, I’m not oblivious to the significance of those gifts and the feelings that can blossom at this age. It’s just that, personally, I don’t find them as something necessary. 

Time has always been best spent on more important endeavors, whether achieving short-term goals or paving the path for long-term plans. From this point on, it’s crucial to be adequately prepared. 

Anything unrelated to these matters is just a waste of time. 

I take another turn, and sunlight filters through the greenery, casting vibrant patches on the plastic athletic track, creating a colorful dance. 

It’s 7:10 sharp, right on the dot. 

— 

[Tidbits]: For those who are unaware, all the dream-talk is a reference to Victor’s R&S “Six out of Seventeen,” (find the translation here by @/cheri-translates), which touched upon the extent of his long and strenuous search for MC— including the little crumbs as how he’d call a girl’s name in his sleep and his roommates would tease him about it– which we got to see a bit here as well. I do VERY HIGHLY recommend reading all the canceled R&S for yourself because if you haven’t, you have NO IDEA what you’re missing out on! ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽ 

—

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【Chapter 2】

Victor: Teacher. Reporting! 

The people in the office glance up at my voice, the rapid movement of their pens coming to a pause. Teacher Hu adjusts the wire-framed glasses on the bridge of her nose, displaying a composed smile. 

Teacher Hu: Come in, Vic.

Teacher Hu: Here— the mock Chinese exam papers for our section. Take them and hand them out. I’ll discuss them during the class later. 

As she speaks, she taps the stack of test papers on her left with the tip of her pen, then retrieves a laminated file from the drawer. 

Teacher Hu: In here, you’ll find the scores and class-grade rankings for each subject this time. Help me attach them to each student’s respective test papers one by one. 

Teacher Hu: We have an eye exercise break during this class, right? You can stay here and get everything organized before going back. Here, the paperclips. 

Victor: Roger. 

Once Teacher Hu finishes speaking, she resumes grading the papers with her head lowered. It seems … she is grading the Classical Chinese reading exercises from yesterday evening’s self-study session? The moment this thought springs to mind, I quickly glance over. 

Luckily, I answered that set of questions quite smoothly yesterday. 

Thinking this way, my fingertips subconsciously relax as I untie the knot. As expected, the report cards are sorted by student ID. 

Just as I’m about to begin flipping through them from the back, Teacher Hu’s voice sounds right on cue. 

Teacher Hu: Vic, you did quite well in the exam this time, but there is still room for improvement. Your math teacher, Mr. Gao, also asked me to commend you properly. 

Victor: …thank you, Teacher. 

Teacher Hu: Zheng Xi-- that kid has also made some progress. It looks like he’s finally catching on. 

Victor: I’ll relay the message on your behalf and tell him to keep making persistent efforts. 

Soon, I spot my own name among the array of report cards. 

Chinese 132, Math 140, English 125, Physics… 

Victor: [sighing LONG and HARD in disappointment] … 

My gaze at once shifts towards the ranking listed at the bottom of the paper. 

Section Ranking: 4th, Grade Ranking: 13th. 

My heart, which has inexplicably leaped into the air, temporarily settles back into its original place. I continue with the sorting, but my thoughts involuntarily begin to decelerate. 

Thankfully, I’ve performed decently in the physics and chemistry exams, and my ranking is still within the range I had set for myself. 

However, my English score is unexpectedly almost 10 points lower than my estimated score. So, where did things go wrong? 

The classroom bell chimes, and the music for eye exercises flows through the air. I’m unable to come up with an answer, so I just subconsciously speed up my movements. 

Teacher Hu: Xiao Luo turned in the participant list for the Autumn Sports Festival yesterday. I noticed you signed up for the friendly soccer match? 

Victor: Yes. There aren’t many students in our section who play soccer, and I’m somewhat familiar with the basic rules and regulations of the game, so I thought I’d participate to make up the numbers. 

Teacher Hu: That's great; participating in this kind of activity is a good thing. It's important not to focus solely on academics; diverting some of one’s attention to meaningful activities like this can also contribute to their self-development. 

Teacher Hu: Don’t you think so, too? 

I nod in agreement, vaguely sensing that Teacher Hu’s words seem to carry an implicit meaning. After picking up the file bag and exam papers, I slightly bow in her direction. 

Victor: Teacher Hu, I’ll take my leave now. 

Teacher Hu: Sure… ah, Vic, there’s something else I wanted to ask you. 

Teacher Hu: Wu Xing from your former section, is it true that he is dating the academic representative from section 3? 

Victor: Is it? I’m not too sure about that. 

Teacher Hu: Weren’t you two dormitory roommates? 

Victor: Yes, but that was last semester. Since this semester began, I haven’t really seen him much. 

Victor: Regarding your question, the response would be more accurate if he answered it himself. Would you like me to summon him for you? 

Teacher Hu: Hahaha, no need for that. 

Teacher Hu: Those friends of yours who hang out with you should learn to take a page from your book and invest their time and energy in more meaningful pursuits. 

Teacher Hu: Alright, you should head back now. 

– 

Following my parting with Teacher Hu, I walk in large strides toward the academic building— a melodious tune wafts through the campus, melding with the breeze. 

I’m afraid “Master Hu,” asked that question, likely because Wu Xing’s results in the mock exam didn’t meet expectations. 

Admittedly, I “did not disclose the information I knew” earlier, but to be fair, I indeed haven’t seen him around much at all, not only during this semester but throughout the entire summer vacation. 

Rarely, when we finally managed to schedule a long-overdue soccer match during our free time from makeup classes, this guy who prioritizes his date before friendship flaked out on me. 

Victor: [scoffing, BUT BAOBEI YOU’RE GONNA DO THE VERY SAME THING 10+ YEARS LATER 🤣]  How childish. 

– 

I’m not sure if it’s a coincidence or one of those cases where “if your heart ponders something, there will be some sort of corresponding response,” but this “ex-roommate” of mine, whom I haven’t seen around much, shows up out of the blue right after taking his name, for the first time in ages. 

Wu Xing: Sir Vic— VIC— TOR— 

A sneaky voice suddenly drifts from the classroom’s back door during the lunch break. Wu Xing cautiously waves his hand, approaching the unfamiliar classroom with a hint of nervousness. 

Feeling a bit resigned, I walk over and offhandedly close the classroom door behind me. 

Victor: Doesn’t your section have you guys work on test papers during lunch break? 

Wu Xing: Does your section still have you guys work on test papers during lunch break? 

Our questions sound in unison, inexplicably making me laugh, but then I quickly refocus on the matter at hand. 

Victor: You need me for something? 

Wu Xing: For something big. Is Lao Zheng not around? 

Victor: I haven’t seen him. 

He asks as he peers into the classroom through the rear window a couple more times before finally speaking solemnly, as if it truly is something of utmost urgency. 

Wu Xing: Well, let’s go then. Time is of the essence. 

– 

I could have never imagined that the “something big” he was talking about was actually buying snacks from the convenience store outside the school gate. 

The aged iron gate, entwined with crawling vines, has a mottled appearance. Even though the lock is dangling loosely, it offers a firm barrier. The air carries a subtle scent of iron rust and the dampness common to the equipment room. 

The hand clutching the paper money reaches through the gap between the railings, and when it is withdrawn, it holds an assortment of snacks in various packaging bags. 

I hardly ever come to this place, and the handful of times I have been are all thanks to my dormitory roommates. 

Victor: So, this is what you referred to as “something big?” I’m out of here. 

Wu Xing: Ack, Sir Vic, don’t! Don’t roll the dice yet. The “iron rooster” is on patrol duty today. If he catches us, it’ll be bad news. At the very least, we’d probably have to sweep the playground for a whole month! 

Victor: And you’re still going to “commit the crime in broad daylight?” 

Wu Xing: [dramatically]  I have reasons for which I must take this risk. 

Victor: …if it weren’t for your talking nonsense, everything would’ve already been bought. 

As if finally remembering his purpose, Wu Xing briskly rushes toward the iron gate and calls out to the convenience store owner while cupping his throat. 

On his way back, he is busy hiding two large packs of “Meow Meow Snow Cookies” in his school uniform jacket. 

He nonchalantly tears open one of the packs while walking over, and then he stuffs two pieces of snow cookies into my hand without any explanation. 

Victor: No need, keep them for yourself to snack on later. 

Wu Xing: No, no, it’s all thanks to you that I could carry out this daunting mission smoothly. Thank you, my greatest ex-roommate, my former class monitor, my… 

Victor: [sighs helplessly]  …shut up. 

– 

Not wanting to waste more time, I off-handedly stash the two snow cookies into my pocket and motion for him to hurry up. He continues walking alongside me, matching my strides, until we reach the academic building. 

The grating noise created by the plastic rubbing against something makes me furrow my brows, and I can’t help but offer a warning. 

Victor: Your classroom is at that end of the corridor. 

Wu Xing: I’ll go to section 3 first. 

Victor: … 

Wu Xing: LuLu didn’t do well in the mock exam. I think she cried. Her eyes were red when I saw her at the cafeteria during lunch. 

Wu Xing: Although she hasn’t mentioned anything, I’m afraid she might think our relationship is interfering with… 

Wu Xing: I don’t know how to make her happy; I can only think of buying her the Meow Meow Snow Cookies she loves. Bro, say, girls would usually feel happy when they eat something they like, right? 

Victor: [softly]  …I think you might be the one who would be even happier. 

— 

[Tidbits]: kept the notes for last so as not to break the flow— 

✦ uhh they have so many nicknames, ofc it’s expected and relatable LMAO, but GODS THEY ARE a PAIN TO TRANSLATE HHH. Victor addressed Teacher Hu as “胡师太” which I translated as “Master Hu.” In Chinese, it’s essentially another sarcastic play on the other nickname they have for their homeroom teacher, “Empress Dowager Hu,” the message behind which is self-explanatory LOL. 

✦ “Prioritizing date before friendship” – the phrase here was 重色轻友, which in more causal English terms would be “hoes before bros,” haha. 

✦ “Iron Rooster” – here, I did the literal translation of “铁公鸡” to retain the sarcastic effect. It in simpler terms refers to someone being a cheapskate or miserly. 

✦ “Meow Meow snow cookies” (喵喵雪饼) – as the name suggests, they are similar to your usual snow cookies, only cat-shaped and much cuter LOL. 

✦ Victor’s final line about you being happier than the person receiving the gift— yes, as you might’ve already presumed, it’s the 2nd reference to MC in this story, and also a theme that runs through Victor’s contents pretty often— when they’re happy because of you, the cheery smile on the person’s face apparently brings you more joy than the person themselves. 

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【Chapter 3】

Xiao Luo: Victor, how about we play some soccer later? Maybe you could show some of your footwork to the team? 

Despite seeing the expectant look on his face, I still shake my head. 

Victor: Sorry, but today won’t be possible. I can return to the dorm on Sunday morning and have the entire time afterward for practicing. 

Victor: I’ll compile the fundamental tactics and rules later tonight and send them to you on QQ. As for my footwork… I’m an amateur, so the most I can do is share some of my experiences during the actual training session. 

Xiao Luo: Sure thing! Just give me a knock tonight! 

– 

As I walk out of the school gate, the last rays of the setting sun cast a soft, crimson halo over the bustling streets. 

The charm of Friday lies precisely in this, rendering even the usually ordinary sunset into something particularly romantic. 

Soon, the No. 923 bus arrives, and after the crowd has boarded, I stand close to the handrail and shift my backpack to the front. 

The bus isn’t overly crowded at this hour, which makes it easier to fetch one’s belongings without causing any inconvenience to other passengers. 

– 

With this thought in mind, I grip the handrail with one hand while my other hand reaches into the front compartment of my schoolbag to retrieve the vocabulary notebook. With my fingertips, I flip through the pages one by one. 

A few points I lost this time were in vocabulary and grammar. It looks like I need to consolidate my understanding of these error-prone areas much more. 

I concentrate on each letter in the notebook, quietly repeating every word three times in my mind before turning to the next page. 

For a moment, the clamors surrounding me seem to grow muffled. I feel as if I’m isolated in a space of my own, able to hear only the voice of my mind crystal clear. 

Even the passage of time seems to slow down. 

The window’s shadow on the edge of my vision is rendered a hazy tint, slowly receding, but it also sharpens the clarity of the words in front of me. 

Although these words aren’t my first language, as long as I grasp the arteries and veins that connect the word roots and affixes, the rest is simply a process of putting them together and restructuring them. 

The patterns that dictate how the world operates also follow this principle. 

Firstly, one needs to understand the distinct characteristics of different things, then find their respective gaps–– and finally connect them, akin to joining mortise and tenon. 

This way, the correct answer is plainly evident. 

The sky outside the window has gradually begun to darken. I weave through the crowd to the back of the vehicle and take a quick look at my wristwatch. 

The hour hand ticks down one notch, and the time is about the same as what I had in mind. I should still be able to make it to Dawn Market before it closes for the day even if I hit traffic. 

Auntie Zhang usually doesn’t close her stall this early. I’m just not sure if I’ll be able to get any of the fruits Dad loves. 

I subconsciously look at the condition of the road ahead, feeling a slight hint of impatience creeping in. 

Victor: Yes, I can still make it in time. 

– 

By the time I arrive home, it’s slightly past 7 o’clock. 

Swiftly, I put down my schoolbag and change my clothes. I then step into the kitchen, don an apron, put the clams in a bowl to let them soak, and simultaneously begin cleaning the scallops. 

Just as I’m serving the garlic-steamed scallops on the table, I hear the door lock turning in the porch. 

Victor: Dad, you’re back. 

Papa Li: The flight got delayed, so it took longer than expected. Ah, you must be starving, aren’t you? 

Victor: I’m fine. You go and take a rest for a while. I’ll call you when the meal is ready. 

After saying this, I wipe my hands dry and pick up his suitcase propped against the doorway, placing it in the study. When I return to the living room, my father has already rolled up his sleeves and is standing by the dining table. 

Papa Li: I was wondering why the entire house was filled with the aroma of food as soon as I walked in the door. It turns out that our master chef has once again prepared a grand feast. 

Victor: It’s not that over-the-top, just regular home-cooked dishes, that’s all.  Victor: But I do have the clam stew and garlic butter scallops that you love. 

Papa Li: Well, it sounds like I must be in for a treat. 

Papa Li: What are you still stir-frying in your pan? Here, let Dad exhibit some tricks for you. 

My father seems to be in a good mood. It’s probably because the work on his business trip has been exceptionally successful. Although doing things myself would be more efficient, I naturally can’t dampen his spirits. 

I smile and lend him a hand. 

Papa Li: How’s school been going recently? Are you settling into your new class well? 

Victor: It’s going pretty well. We got our mock exam scores and class rankings today, and overall, they’re within the range I expected, except for some mistakes I made in English. 

Victor: I’ll show you my report card after we’re done with dinner. 

Papa Li: I’ve always been confident in your academic performance. What about things outside your studies? Have you been busy with student council duties recently? 

Victor: Hm, we are gearing up to organize the Autumn Sports Festival soon, and lately, I’ve been exploring potential sponsors among educational organizations and bookstores that have shown interest. 

Seeing that he hasn’t shifted his gaze, I contemplate for a moment and add. 

Victor: In my free time, I’ll be playing soccer with the others. I’ve signed up for the soccer tournament in the sports festival. 

Sure enough, my father appears visibly happier upon hearing this and even teases me a little. 

Papa Li: Such opportunities don’t come by often, so you’ve to make sure to give it your best! But son, you haven’t played as much soccer as you used to since you’ve grown up. Are you sure your skills are still sharp? 

Victor: How about personally inspecting my skills tomorrow morning? 

Papa Li: Hahaha, are you “throwing down the gauntlet” to me? Alright, alright, no problem, let’s have a friendly showdown. 

Before we know it, the family dinner wraps up amidst an atmosphere steeped in laughter, something we haven’t done in a long time. 

It’s almost ten o’clock by the time I finish my homework, and I notice that the light in my father’s study is still on. After hesitating for a moment, I go back to my room, pick up the notebook from my desk, and knock on the door of his study. 

– 

Papa Li: Vic? Why are you still up? 

Victor: I’ve got a few questions that I’m having a bit of trouble understanding. 

I flip my notebook to the most recent page and place it in front of my father, briefly giving him a summary of the few stocks that I’ve been researching these days. 

My father comprehends the situation and begins circling things in the notebook, gradually clarifying the puzzles that have been plaguing my mind. 

Seeing that I haven’t said anything in a while, my father gently taps on the table with his pen. 

Papa Li: Is there a part you didn’t understand? 

Victor: No, it’s not that. I’m just glad that I’m in a simulated investment scenario where there’s room for trial and error. 

Papa Li: Real business transactions can also withstand trial and error. Son, there’s no one or no circumstance that can bring overnight success. 

I understand what my father is saying, but it’s precisely because I understand these principles that my resolve to achieve my goals becomes even more steadfast. 

It’s also because I have experienced that feeling of powerlessness, where I was helpless to find a way out, that my conviction has been more solidified— I must advance at a faster pace. 

Victor: I’ve got it. Thanks, Dad. You should get an early night. 

Papa Li: But judging by your achievements of the past few years… 

As if he has suddenly remembered something, my father takes out a somewhat aged notebook from a drawer. 

Inside the notebook, there are meticulous records of the maintenance cost I’ve earned every year for Vic Vic through simulated investments, starting from my junior high school days. 

Papa Li: It looks like you’ll get there earlier than you had planned. 

Victor: My goal is to round off the remaining amount in the next three years. 

Victor: I was quite conservative in my calculations back then, but now I’m confident. 

– 

In the blink of an eye, the preparation phase for the Autumn Sports Festival is in full swing. Adhering to the “first-come, first-served” principle, there’s a constant rush of people in the venues and equipment storage areas. 

It appears that this enthusiasm has got the entire school’s faculty and students immersed, as evident in the ongoing internal meeting of the student council. 

I close the proposal document in front of me and turn my gaze to the head of the sports department who has been talking confidently since the beginning of the meeting, putting forth all kinds of budget-busting ideas. 

If memory serves, he only joined the student council this year. While it’s understandable to have such drive when taking on a major responsibility as this for the first time, it’s not surprising that his ideas are so impractical. 

Victor: We are organizing a sports event for the school, not the Loveland City Youth Sports Meet. 

Victor: Before asking me if I can secure such a large budget, shouldn’t we first consider the already existing conditions? 

Victor: Even if we manage to lock in sponsorships smoothly, I’m afraid we don’t have sufficient space and workforce to sustain it. 

Head of Sports Department: But I’ve discussed this issue with Xiao Sun from your External Affairs Department beforehand, and the proposal he’s handed in today is actually twice as substantial as what he initially suggested. 

Victor: That’s the very reason why having this meeting today was essential, isn’t it? 

Victor: To prevent the possibility of others misinterpreting due to the spread of incomplete information inappropriately. 

The other party doesn’t seem to have anticipated that I would respond this way, rendering him silent for a moment before he speaks again. 

Head of Sports Department: Doesn’t the External Affairs Department need to hold another meeting to discuss this? Or is Student Council President Victor implying that we don’t have any room for further discussion? 

Victor: First and foremost, whether the External Affairs Department needs to deliberate on the conclusions drawn from today’s general meeting, I will make that assessment. 

Victor: Secondly, “we” are not the ones who get to negotiate this. Because this matter has never been about any of us individually, from the outset to the conclusion. 

Head of Sports Department: [sarcastic laugh]  Heh, I’ve heard rumors that the External Affairs Department is managed by an autocratic approach, and today I finally got the chance to witness it first-hand. 

…I can hardly believe someone would make such an elementary-school-student-style remark in this situation. 

Victor: If labeling me with a derogatory term as “autocratic” can make things seem more reasonable, then I don’t find any objection to your remark. 

Head of Sports Department: … 

Victor: I apologize for taking up everyone’s time. The Executive Committee and the Secretariat, please inform me as soon as you have made your decisions, and I will make further improvements to the proposal. 

After finishing my words, I pick up the folder and turn around to exit the conference room. 

— 

[Tidbits]: 

✦ regarding the “arteries and veins” (脉络) and “mortise and tenon” (榫卯) parts— I decided to do their literal translations despite initially going for metaphorical terms, to show you guys the way Li Zeyan writers think + how they wanted you to grasp just how immersed he was and how passionate he is in general about learning that he is subconsciously relating things like this. 

✦ Dawn Market and Auntie Zhang are references to his S2 Company Project, where we met this old lady and learned the precious story of how Victor would visit the market with his dad when he was a kid. I don’t remember her name on the EN server LOL, so used the original one as it was. 

✦ The stock research, simulated investment, and paying for Vic Vic’s (the panda Yan Yan) upkeep fees – these are all references to Victor’s 4th birthday story, where after learning that the panda’s adoption fee had to be paid on yearly installments, 15-year-old Victor decided to put his knowledge about simulated investment to action and use the profits from investments to pay the panda’s upkeep fees. And sure enough, his investments were successful, and at the time he had told his dad that he’d be able to pay his dad all the adoption fees back over the years by the time he was 25. But as we saw in this story, in 2nd year of his senior high school, he had cut that time down to only 3 years, and he did not need those years in full either~ :’) 

✦ And as for using the “Papa Li” term of address instead of “Victor’s Dad”–– it was a force of habit LOL + I wanted to retain the personalized feelings here haha (,,>ࡇ<,,)

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

As the other person reiterates his “refusal” attitude once again, I take a deep breath and reach out to loosen my tie. 

The sunlight at high noon is somewhat glaring. After stuffing the proposal into my backpack, I walk mechanically towards the subway station. 

I still have more than enough time before the cram classes, and this morning has gone well as I successfully negotiated for most of the sponsorship according to the plan. 

Apart from… 

I can’t help but sigh, kneading my throbbing forehead. 

Perhaps because it’s the weekend, as I pass by the park, I hear the animated sounds of laughter and cheerful voices. 

It’s as if I’ve caught the contagious effect of that simple joy, I subconsciously change my path and sit down on a bench nearby. 

All of a sudden, I loosen up a tad and my mind involuntarily begins thinking back to the wall I’ve hit just earlier. 

— 

───── [FLASHBACK BEGINS] ─────

Victor: Mr. Yu, the significance school sports day holds in high school activities is quite evident, whether in terms of its overall scale or the level of importance placed on it by both teachers and students. 

Victor: And with the level of publicity in an event such as this, it’s without a doubt that it can boost your campus market share, while simultaneously deepening the profile of your company. 

Victor: In my opinion, this collaborative effort is one that demands minimal investment but yields rapid returns. 

Victor: Please take a look at our proposal, and if you have any questions, we can discuss them right away. 

The man in the impeccably dressed suit and shoes in front of me remains completely silent, waiting patiently until I finish speaking. Then he sits up straight on the couch, courteously accepts the folder from me, and places it directly onto the table. 

Mr. Yu: Your arguments are very sound, but there’s no need for us to invest in the school. 

Victor: Do you have any concerns, or are there any aspects of the proposal that you currently find unsatisfactory? 

Mr. Yu: Hahaha, Victor, you seem to have missed the point of what I meant. 

Mr. Yu: As a matter of fact, your proposal is already very well-rounded. To be honest with you, among all the proposals I always receive, many from adults don’t even measure up to yours. 

Mr. Yu: But you must know that what you’re confronting are people, not only proposals. 

Mr. Yu: There’s nothing wrong with being considerate of all aspects, but people are incoercible, let alone businessmen who always prioritize their interests above all else. 

───── [FLASHBACK ENDS] ─────

— 

Suddenly, something lightly bumps against my feet, snapping me back to reality. 

It’s a soccer ball. 

??: Sorry—— 

An unfamiliar voice sounds not far away, and upon lifting my head, I see a group of young boys waving at me, dripping with sweat. I knowingly rise to my feet and lift my leg to kick the ball back to them. 

The ball is passed with perfect accuracy to the feet of a young boy not too far away. 

??: Thanks, buddy! 

Sunlight filters down the gaps between the branches and leaves. I incline my head to gaze at the dappled light spots it creates. 

On this day, I’ve come to understand that many things don’t yield results based on the perfection achieved by one individual; there are numerous external factors at play. 

And that, one should always be prepared and have a well-rounded plan in place for everything. 

– 

The highly anticipated Autumn Sports Festival has lifted its curtains on a bright and beautiful morning. 

With the piercing sound of the whistle, the friendly soccer match is down to its final five minutes. 

Under the scorching sun, the grass field sizzles beneath our feet, and the striking 0:1 on the scoreboard has got everyone in the Section 1 team with their hearts hanging in midair. 

However, as if the situation is not already bad enough, more troubles keep coming one after another. Not only are we behind in the score, but our goalkeeper has also been red-carded and sent off the field due to a mistake while charging out. 

My gaze shifts from the glaring red card to the referee’s finger–– pointing at the 12-yard mark. 

??: You’ve got to be kidding me! A penalty kick at this moment–– they’re giving us the full “red-card” combo! This is ridiculous! Can’t we protest this? 

??: Come on, move along. The match is over. 

??: It’s really a pity for the Section 1 team. The two teams were neck and neck for so long, and I thought a miracle might really happen. 

??: You’re overthinking it. It’s already a miracle that they managed to persist until now. Among those students of Section 9, six of them are sports prodigies, you know. 

The ceaseless buzz of murmurs and discussions lingers around me from all directions. Fine beads of sweat cling to my neck in disarray, and I wipe them away in irritation, my toes finding themselves stomping on the ground several times. 

The current situation is indeed far from optimistic. 

If we bring in a forward as a substitute for the goalkeeper, the odds of winning the game will be completely against us. 

Given that nothing can be done about the 10 vs. 11 situation we’re already in, what can we possibly do to level the score? 

My brain spins at a lightning pace, and suddenly, a somewhat bold idea springs to mind. 

With almost not the slightest hesitation, I raise my hand to draw the referee’s attention, requesting a substitution. 

Xiao Luo: ...but you hardly ever took on the role of a goalkeeper in the practice matches we had before, and now to substitute as... 

Victor: The key is not just to defend the goalpost. 

I interrupt the sports committee representative and earnestly shift my gaze to the coach and the team members on the field. 

Victor: Being a midfielder, if I take on the role of the goalkeeper, to some extent, it will create a similar sense of skepticism in the opposing team. 

Victor: Now, at this point in the game, it essentially boils down to a competition of stamina. 

While speaking, I turn my gaze to the substitutes who are about to replace the wingers on both sides. 

Substitute teammate: But doesn’t that mean we’re giving up control of the midfield by doing this? 

Victor: You’re right. But without taking risks, there will be no reward. 

Victor: My strategy is not something I can accomplish relying on my abilities alone. I need the trust and cooperation of every single one of you. 

Victor: I will surely block the penalty kick. 

After putting on the protective gloves, I clap my palms together vigorously twice, and in my peripheral vision, I can see the penalty taker also walking to the designated spot. 

Drawing a deep breath, I walk to the side of the goalpost, slightly arch my body, and then fix my gaze straight ahead. Inadvertently, I raise my hand and gesture towards the completely unguarded opposite side. 

For a moment, it feels as if all the eyes in the entire arena have turned towards me, causing me to fall into a trance and giving me the sensation as though I can hear the sound of time ticking away. 

Another whistle blows. 

The opponent clearly hesitates for a moment, as if trying to decipher whether my action is intended as a provocation, or it has some other meaning. 

But all of that is unimportant at this moment. 

He had already lost right at the second he hesitated and did not take a decisive shot. 

And that second was all I needed. 

── 

Xiao Luo: Victor! You’re really something! I can’t believe that pulling off such an unconventional strategy secured us a narrow victory! 

Victor: It was merely a draw, nothing more. 

Teammate: Well, that still counts as a victory in our book! Let’s go to Lao Beimen’s street stall; I’m treating everyone to soda, ice-cream, and grilled sausages! Victor, you coming with us? 

Victor: Sure, let’s go. 

Xiao Luo and Teammates: YES! 

Watching my fellow teammates, who have shared the sweat and toil, beam with expressions of elation as if they have scored a goal, I find myself smiling along with them. 

The afternoon heat is yet to subside, and pedestrians are seeking shelter beneath the shade of the trees as they move forward. Only we continue to walk under the sunlight, chatting and laughing among ourselves as we walk down the footbridge. 

The lady working at the newspaper stand places the newly arrived comics in a prominent spot, then sits down in the shaded area, fanning herself with a palm-leaf fan; 

The bright and youthful college students walk hand in hand, their phone charms clinking together, producing a crisp sound; 

Clad in their uniform, the junior high schoolers sport headphones as they wait for the bus to arrive. Who knows what they’re listening to, whether it’s some English listening exercise or popular music; 

The fine beads of sweat glisten with a radiant glow between the young boy’s hairline, while his red sportswear is eye-catching and vibrant, epitomizing the most splendid appearance one can have at his age.

I tighten the cords of my drawstring bag a little and skillfully keep the ball bouncing on my toes, maneuvering around a few bicycles on the lane without any people, and then use a bit of force to toss the ball in the air. 

The attempt to catch the ball with my knee isn’t executed perfectly, and the ball slightly slips out of control. 

I jog a couple of steps to catch up, throw the ball again, and catch it once more— and like this, I indulge in this self-amusing routine tirelessly. 

A light sheen of sweat lightly dampens the ends of my hair. I fling my head back a little and quicken my stride, allowing the gentle breeze to whisk away the residual heat. 

Even though it’s merely a school-level sports event, triumph always feels great, especially when your own efforts are so clearly visible. 

There are still two more intersections to go before we reach Lao Beimen’s stall. As I watch the several spiritedly hopping figures ahead of me, I decide to bring my own little celebration to an end. 

After all, this was merely a school-level soccer match; I couldn’t let satisfaction be so readily apparent on my face. 

The soccer ball bounces and produces a firm sound, while the fluttering clothes closely trails its trajectory. 

It’s only the sunshine that knows the young boy has been unknowingly sporting a smile at the corners of his lips, unmistakably revealing a look of satisfaction. 

────── ••• ─────

💘 【Calls】: Here!

───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

【Anika’s Ramblings】

—

[sassykattery]

A Taste of You

Ooooo Sassy is posting again! Yes indeedy!

CW: features afab/fem oc! Altaira who uses she/her pronouns. Nudity. Perverse actions. Profanity. Masturbation (m!). Smut scene: f! receiving oral, f! receiving fingering, f! receiving piv. Blood play and blood drinking. Explicit descriptions of unprotected.

Themes: Romance. Vampire AU. Drinking and partying. Sex. Smut fic. Perversion. Menstruation. LuciferxAltaira. One shot.

Characters: Altaira (afab oc), Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Beel, Belphie.

Third person POV, Vampire AU

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Masterlist

Enjoy.

It was late. Very late.

Late enough to where when Altaira entered the House of Lamentation, she was shushing her party companions, Asmo and Mammon, as they all shuffled in drunkenly. It was raining, and all three were soaked head to toe, with Altaira and Asmo holding their heels as they came inside, Mammon using his jacket to cover his head.

"Thanks, 'Taira... See you tomorrow," Mammon stated, making his way up the stairs without sure-feet under him. She watched as he held onto the handrail of the staircase, shaking her head.

Asmo kissed her cheek, "Be sure to sleep in tomorrow, we'll all need it. Thanks for being my wing girl tonight," he proclaimed softly. She nodded and silently watched as Asmo went up the stairs too, leaving her to her own devices.

Quietly, and feeling snackish from her drunken escapades, she managed to walk on wobbly legs to the kitchen. She looked around, trying to find anything that might sound good to her in the moment. Getting into the pantry, she spied Mammon's noodles and decided to cook up some of those in the microwave. While she waited, she pawed through the fridge to find more human world rosé that she picked up and a box of ice cream.

Once everything was ready, she sat on one of the stools in the kitchen and began eating, audibly moaning when she realized how much better those noodles tasted when one was completely inebriated.

"Fuck... why am I so hot now? Shit," she swore to herself. She quickly threw off her shirt and sat there in her leather miniskirt, red lace bra, and her shoes kicked off as well.

"That's better..." she mumbled.

Continuing her midnight meal, she stared at the blank wall ahead and began thinking about things, maybe a little too deeply, and found herself ditching the noodles to cry over the box of ice cream she ate out of, adding rosé with each bite and proceeding to get more drunk.

A couple of footsteps sounded in the hallway beside the kitchen, and she snapped, her voice thick and broken, "Get lost, Beel! G-Go find some other food."

A pair of crimson orbs floated high in the air out in the hall. Those orbs observed her sad state, her food shoved away while nursing the bottle of rosé until she was holding her head in her hands, sobbing shirtless in a demon family's kitchen.

The pair of red eyes finally came closer, and then the eldest appeared fully in the light of the kitchen. He placed a bare hand on her shoulder, having ditched his own overcoat, waistcoat, and gloves this late into the night. He was coming downstairs to check that Beel hadn't fallen asleep in the kitchen, Satan doing the same in the library, or Belphie in any other conspicuous place in the House. Basically, to check that everyone was at least in a bed, regardless of which. This late into the night, he wasn't expecting anyone to be around.

"Altaira," he murmured gently.

She sagged further, and before she could fall off the stool as she started to lean over, Lucifer caught her by her waist and held her against him, completely unconscious. Her hair smelled heavily of her perfume, sweat, and booze from The Fall. He immediately knew what happened and sighed heavily as he maneuvered her around in his arms. But he couldn't quite help how it felt to let his fingers caress her bare skin, seeing the red lace of her bra against her ivory skin, or how even like this, she was beautiful when he saw her face as he cradled her in his arms bridal style...

Shaking those ill-toward thoughts away, he sighed again, picking her and her shirt up and walking her out of the kitchen. He thought for a moment of putting her back in her room, but he was concerned about her hurting herself, or one of his brothers bothering her, so he made the trek up the stairs to his room.

Once inside, he gently laid her on one side of his rather large bed. He grabbed one of his plain t-shirts and dressed her in it, long enough to be decent on her as he stripped away her miniskirt. Seeing her face again, he realized her makeup needed to come off, lest Asmo have a heart attack the next day. When he grabbed her clothes to throw into the laundry, he saw the stain on her shirt, so he took it to the bathroom to try and wash it out, thinking he could grab a damp wash cloth to wipe her face with as well. But when he accidentally brought it too close to his face, he caught wind of her natural scent and perfume mixing together, making him momentarily forget his present task. He brought it closer, inhaling her sweet scent and nearly moaning as he gripped it hard and buried his face in it.

He had barely opened his eyes after a few seconds, and his reflection in the mirror caught his attention, and he saw himself standing there with her shirt pressed to his nose and hard-on tenting his trousers, no better than a beast. Growling, he threw the shirt down and grabbed the wash cloth he was after, wet it, and went back to the doll lying in his bed, now sprawled out in the middle like a starfish.

Lucifer sighed and knelt down beside her, clearly annoyed, but only slightly.

"You're lucky you're cute..." he murmured with equal annoyance and reverence. Gently, he rubbed the makeup off her face, a little easier thanks to the tears and how much had already rubbed off.

Satisfied, he threw the rag into the laundry basket as well and went back to the bathroom to change. When he was mostly undressed, his eye caught that shirt again, and without much thought, he grabbed it and brought it to his nose again, inhaling her perfect scent. Before realizing what he was doing, he had fished out his very hard cock and slowly stroked himself as he continued to breathe in her intoxicating smells. He knew she had been to The Fall, so he imagined her dancing, grinding against him in particular and looking over her shoulder up at him with those darling gemstone-like eyes. He imagined how it felt to grasp her hips, grinding himself against her too. To have her lean back into him with his chest pressed to her back and feeling her hands reach back to mess up his hair–

The next couple of seconds happened so quickly, as he gave her shirt one more good inhale and quickly released into his hand with a groan, his orgasm unexpected and not at all satisfying like he wanted it to be. With a sigh, he cleaned up and jumped into the shower after leaving her shirt on a towel bar to hang.

When he was done, he donned his sleeping robe and walked back out into his bedroom. He was then piecing together how a red lace bra and matching panty ended up thrown to the edge of the bed and why the human woman was now laying sideways in said bed.

"Strange little imp you are," Lucifer sighed. Walking toward where her head was out, he brushed his hand against her and felt how warm her head was. "Ah, must've got hot." He then walked to the thermostat and turned it down in his room, hoping the coolness would help her.

Returning to her, he guided her to lay properly in the bed. "Come now... you'll be blaming me for your neck being messed up tomorrow..." he spoke to himself and her as he gently moved her around.

Satisfied with his work, he finally turned off the light and settled on the far side of the bed. When he was getting under the covers, he had caught a peak where his shirt was riding up on her, showing her rear and hip as she laid on her side, facing away from him. Rolling his eyes, more at himself, he turned away and tried to forget what he saw.

The next morning, there was a groan. A soft, pathetic, sad groan.

It was Altaira as she stretched and woke up, feeling sore, sorry, and sad for herself. When she opened her eyes, it was so bleary and hard to see even after rubbing her eyes. She then buried her face into the back of the demon she clung to, trying to wake up faster. But it was when she took a deep inhale, the scent of a certain eldest brother filled her nose, and what better way to wake one's self up than with a surprise?

"Good morning," the eldest mumbled after feeling her startle. She slowly released him and scooted way back far across the bed.

"I'm... Good morning, uh, so... I'm sorry about whatever I did last night," she tried to apologize, feeling embarrassed by what the Avatar of Pride might have heard or seen.

"Hmph," was all he offered her in return.

She was silent for a moment, feeling dejected and rejected, so she started to roll over to get out when she heard:

"You know, you really shouldn't be doing that. I know you're an adult, but... You'll hurt yourself doing that."

There was silence again.

"The monitor is on the bedside table next to you," he added. The lowlights of his room came on.

With a great big sigh, she rolled onto the edge of the bed, knowing he wouldn't let her leave until she took a reading. When she was calm and ready, she grabbed the pin prick and brought it to her finger. While she waited, she brought the monitor up to turn it on and put a stick into it.

After a few moments, the little palm-sized machine beeped and gave her the blood sugar reading, to which, she groaned and set it down.

"And?"

She mumbled, "One hundred and seven..."

"You're lucky it's not worse," Lucifer replied, just a touch snippy, but she knew he was right. "Now, go take a shower and go downstairs. You won't be doing anything until you eat breakfast."

"Okay..."

On unstable legs, she got up and went to his bathroom, to which he caught a glimpse of her thighs as she walked, and he quickly adjusted his focus to stop thinking about her. He heard the water turn on, and then some light humming, knowing that meant she was in.

Lucifer finally got up himself, and a bright red set of undergarments caught his attention as he started to walk to his closet. He approached to pick them up and just throw them in the laundry basket, but what he had done last night resurfaced as he held out the scarlet panties out in front of him, looking them over as they shined in firelight. Even at this distance, he could start to smell their fragrance. He tried to resist, he really did, but other instincts won out, and slowly, oh so slowly, he brought them to his face, inhaling her pheromones.

His senses were overcome with instant gratification and a darker urge to consume the owner. This most intimate scent was like the feeling one gets when they smell their favorite dessert being made, the anticipation and salivation already starting just from that. There was a sweetness to her, a rampant one that made his whole body twitch with an aggressive need to have more. Her body was subtle, though, when it came to her pheromones, far more subtle than any other human he'd encounter. But there was one particular scent that he couldn't mistake, one that meant–

"Lucifer!"

It was jarring to come back to reality like that, instantly dropping the garment out of fear of being caught. He turned his head to look and she wasn't there, but he could still hear the water running. Quickly, he walked over to the door and knocked.

"Altaira? Did you need something?"

There was a sob and the water shut off, and his concern only doubled to hear her struggle.

"I need you to tell me what's wrong, or let me come in," he persisted, his hand on the doorknob.

"It-It hurts... I can barely stand, I feel like I might–" There was a pause, and he heard her move around again.

"Altaira, can I come in?" He asked in a strained tone.

There was a whimper. "Y-Yes..."

Immediately, he threw the door open and found her doubled over the edge of the bathtub, a towel thrown onto her back. In two long strides, the eldest was beside her and kneeling down with his hands on her back.

"Can I help you?" He asked her quietly. She nodded.

He then wrapped the towel around her, attempting to keep her decent and hoping to save her any embarrassment later on. Carefully, he took her into his arms and came to his feet to carry her out of the bathroom and into the coolness of his room as he set her down on his bed.

She was flushed, breathing hard, and her brows knitted together tightly as she rubbed her eyes with her fingers. Something she only did when she was upset or anxious.

"Can you tell me what's–" and just as he said that, he knew what had happened. His senses were correct. That metallic, coppery scent was unmistakable, even without the physical presence of it. "Are you okay?" His tone was softened, understanding what was happening.

"Just... pain," she huffed out. "It's usually not that bad, but occasionally it is," she added.

"I'm sorry to hear that..." he murmured, looking down at her sprawled form on his bed. It was hard to focus with her like this, and he mumbled something to her, as his eyes were drawn to where the towel was starting to not cover her so well over her thighs, reaching higher and higher...

"What?" She asked.

He blinked several times before he realized he had said something to her.

"I can help you," he repeated.

"How?"

She finally moved her hand away and squinted at him. He then leaned over her, his hands placed on either side of her head above her shoulders.

"I can make it feel... better. Make you feel good," he answered quietly, looking her over.

Her eyes widened, and she felt frozen by his suggestion.

"Wh–... How?"

Her gaze flickered all over his form as he leaned in closer to her.

"I don't think you're really that naïve..." he murmured in a knowing but softened tone.

Her hand then curiously rose up to his cheek, looking up into his crimson eyes to see his true intention.

"But..." She looked entirely hesitant.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he purred, his hand on her thigh. "That... adds to the experience for me, personally." He then smiled down at her wickedly, and his fangs glimmered under the bedroom lights.

"What do you mean by that?" She seemed skeptical then.

"I mean..." he started to say, only to sink back, caressing her bare thigh more obviously and molding it under his fingers. "Your taste is one I've wanted to experience... to satisfy my sanguine thirst."

Upon those words, she stared openly, her eyes as wide as possible.

"That's... Are you saying you...?"

"You're smart, darling. I know you've suspected as much," he stated with a chuckle.

She was silent for another moment before asking, "How long have you wanted me?"

A devious smirk landed upon his lips as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Since the moment you stepped foot into my domain," he replied. A shiver ran down her back.

"Specifically?" She murmured again.

He lifted her thigh as he settled between her legs, his left cheek resting against her thigh, turning his face slightly to kiss her flesh. "Since the moment I laid my unholy eyes on this perfect body of yours all those days ago when we brought you here. Since I could sense what you might taste like, so sweet but savory. All these months, this time every month, my mouth would water when you walked by."

A blush burned fiercely on her cheeks as she stared down at him. From her vantage point, she could see the desire in his gaze, feel the desperation in his touch and the lust radiating from his body.

"I just don't want it to... hurt," she replied quietly, hesitating on the last word. "I-I mean... I want you too, but..."

"I need you to be specific now. I won't do anything without your say, and I don't take advantage of you," he replied, looking like he could pounce on her.

"I desire you too, and I'm okay if you... drink from me, as long as you don't hurt me, at least not too much or permanently," she answered.

"Oh, my love, I promise..." he started to say, his fingers walking their way up her body to the towel that barely covered her. "I promise, you'll feel such wild ecstasy, you'll be begging for me to return to you like this."

"I'll hold you to that," she whispered softly. His eyes snapped up to hers again, seeing the soft haze of lust– much to his delight.

"May I?" He purred to her, his dominant hand on the edge of her towel.

"Y-Yes, go ahead," she replied softly.

With both hands, the demon unwrapped his prized prey like a gift from above, carefully and longingly. He took in her splendidly nude form, on his bed, in his room– in his clutches.

"I am far too wicked to lay my eyes upon something this lovely, but it just means I'll be all the more grateful to have you," he purred again, his crimson orbs flicking back up to meet her shy gaze. "Shall I deliver on my promise now?"

"Please," she affirmed with a nod.

He slid her down the edge of the bed just a bit, enough to have some of her rear hanging off the edge, legs dangling down. Lucifer fully knelt to the floor, sinking back again as he kissed her thigh, spreading the other out and finally taking in her wet heat. Instantaneously, his pupils dilated, and he nearly moaned at the sight of her spread like this.

What he had been after, that taste he so wanted to know like the back of his hand, was there in front of him. He took it all in for a moment and then looked up at her once more, only to find an embarrassed look on her face.

"Should I stop?" He asked in a teasing tone.

She shook her head.

He smiled. "Then... I believe it's time I tasted you properly," he murmured in reply. Slowly, he sank lower and leveled his mouth with her spread cunt. Keeping his eyes on hers, he gave her lower lips a soft kiss before giving one long lick bottom to top on her heat.

"Ohhh..." she moaned, locking her eyes on his. He gave her clit more attention as he began to lave his tongue over it, focusing on that bud. The heat of his mouth and the expertise of his tongue instantly sent the pleasure to her spine, becoming more full-bodied. A hard blush decorated her cheeks, her breathing stating to deep and become heavy.

Lucifer's arms slipped under her thighs and wrapped back up so his hands could hold her hips. He pressed himself further into her heat, adding pressure to how he ate her out.

Timidly, she brought her hand down to rest on the top of his head, her little fingers curling into his soft, ink black locks. He appreciated the little gesture, to see her reach out to him and hold onto him. She did her best to keep her gaze on his, but she was so lost in pleasure. A warm tingling feeling started to fill her lower abdomen, and she knew she was already falling apart. It had only been minutes, but Lucifer was correct: he'd make her forget all about the pain.

"Are you close, my love?" He murmured to her. "Are you going to let go for me?"

She nodded, adding a whimper to her wordless reply to him. To take it further, he wrapped one of his arms further around her and brought his hand down to rub his thumb over her clit while he sank his tongue into her entrance. She gave a short gasp and bucked her hips up, eager for more of what he was giving to her.

"Lucifer!" She moaned sharply, her pitch raising with each stroke of his thumb and movement of his tongue. He let a soft moan out to her in return as he started to taste more and more of her arousal, leaking cum onto his tongue as she started to reach her peak. Her walls tightened down around his tongue, alternating between pulsing and clenching. She let out another softer cry of pleasure as her orgasm flooded her senses.

Lucifer carried her through the release, keeping up his ministrations of fucking her with his tongue and gently rubbing his thumb into her clit, until her body relaxed back against his bed again. While she twitched with the aftershocks of her orgasm, the demon continued to eat her out, and the taste of her cum coated his tongue, but suddenly, there was something that tasted that much more delectable. A certain crimson liquid with such a savory flavor got his attention, and he flinched as he tasted it. Mixing in with her cum, he could have sworn he was tasting the equivalent of something better than the forbidden fruit. His hands reached up to snatch a hold of her waist to keep her still.

"L-Lucifer! It's t-too much!" Altaira whined, her hips wriggling in between his arms.

She looked down at him, and she was stunned by the frantic, animalistic look in his eyes. He nearly looked feral, and when he glanced back up at her, he gave a growl– the kind of deep, bassy growl you'd hear from a wolf. Her body caught back up with what was happening, and she felt that warmth building in her abdomen again. What he was doing to her was too much but still so pleasurable. He continued to consume her, drinking in her mixed fluids with an-almost-frightening vigor. Her abdomen tightened, and she twisted the sheets beneath her hands. It took less than another minute for her to fall apart again, her walls clenching around his tongue yet again. She whimpered and cried out her pleasure to him, his name like saccharine on her lips.

After that orgasm, he finally let her go, pulling his mouth away with a pop. She laid there like a twitching leaf, her hair a mess, and limbs spread everywhere while trying to catch her breath. Lucifer slowly crawled up her body to cage her in, his hands pinned above the tops of her shoulders, his knees pressed to either side of her hips.

"Feel better?" He cooed, looking at her with a smirk but deep affection with dark carnal hunger in his eyes.

"Uh huh," she replied breathlessly.

"I must say," he murmured, kissing her temple and then whispering in her ear, "You taste rather spectacular... like sweet but savory candy... a fine treat indeed."

She finally turned her head to look at him, seeing the stains of red on his lips and chin. Her eyes widened instantly. "I... You didn't..."

"Oh, I did, and as I said, it only adds to the experience for me," he purred to her. "I've been wanting this since that third week you were here, and I smelled that sweet sanguine scent for the first time. You're simply divine."

Her blush darkened as she stared up at Lucifer. He adored that bashful look on her face. When he realized she wasn't speaking, he came to his feet, and he added,

"And if you'll allow me, I'd like another," he murmured. "Somewhere more... direct."

She looked down and back up at Lucifer, trying to piece together his meaning. "Where?" She whispered.

Lucifer began to look over her body, something else that added more color to her cheeks, and he began to murmur to her. "Mm, where indeed? Well... the neck is a classic, and you do have just an amazingly soft neck, but..." As he spoke, he brought his dominant hand down to start tracing his fingers down her body, starting at her neck. "Then there's here, your breasts so supple... but I would hate to mark up such beauty..." His eyes went lower, and he gave a wicked smile indeed. "There is one place that I think will do just fine, dove..."

After making his decision, he knelt down to the floor again. His bare hand delicately drew itself over her thigh, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin there.

"Isn't that... dangerous?" She asked quietly.

Lucifer smirked. "You would think fornicating with demons in general would stir such a thought long before now," he murmured. His eyes then flickered back to hers. "But no, you have my word that you will not have lasting damage done to you. I will take care of you and your body."

There was a moment of uncertainty before she finally nodded, looking more at ease as she considered his words.

"If you would like, I can ensure it's equally pleasurable for you," he added. "But I need your permission first."

"I... I want you to do it, all of it," she replied quickly and confidently. He smirked once more and nodded.

She watched as Lucifer got settled again, kneeling and spraying out her legs again for his viewing pleasure. Taking his hand again, he slipped his fingers through her labia and over her heat, gathering slick while making her sigh again with pleasure. He gently rubbed back and forth, ramping up her arousal again.

"Close your eyes, love, just feel what I do for you," Lucifer commanded softly to her. Altaira immediately nodded and laid her head back against the bed again. Ultimately, Lucifer knew that if she saw what he was about to do, she might not have enjoyed it as much, and he understood her weakness for seeing her own ichor.

Seeing that she was relaxed and enjoying his ministrations, he began placing searing kisses on her right thigh, causing her to twitch and flinch. He glanced up to make sure her eyes were closed, and to his satisfaction they were. He then began to slip one finger past her entrance, following the grips of her walls. Fully hilted, he stroked around her insides to get a feel for her anatomy, to map out in his head where she felt the best. There was one spot far in the back that had her keening for more, and once he figured out her rhythm, he pulled that finger out only to insert two more. That definitely had her crying out, so he began placing his kisses again, soft whispers of incantations against her flesh. Feeling ready to truly start the symphony, he focused his gaze solely on her and her alone.

Slowly, he started to work her open, his two fingers twisting and turning, stoking her fires. When he felt her start to open, he sank his fingers further and found that sweet spot toward the back and began to use and abuse it for her pleasure. He was learning her buttons to push as her body was his new playground to explore. It was when her body started to writhe, her breaths quickening, and her cunt tightening down around his digits that he became hyperaware, listening for specific cues from her. He had to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

And that perfect moment came quickly as she started to roll her hips, her moans becoming more staccato, the very walls wrapped around his fingers beginning to flutter.

There she is.

"Merci," he whispered.

[Thank you]

All at once, just as she met with her third orgasm of the night, Lucifer sank his fangs down onto her thigh, extending to pierce the femoral artery. She felt merely a pinch followed by a warm tingling at the site of his bite as it all flowed together with her release. Lucifer kept his fingers pumping rhythmically in her pussy, making sure to hit that sweet spot, all while tasting her saccharine ichor. He flinched at first, surprised by the taste, but it wasn't bad, far from it. He'd never tasted someone so... sugary.

Maybe I should have saved this for after dinner this evening... he thought.

Nonetheless, she was an exquisite flavor, sweet like a delicious metallic honey, with dark notes of bitter like a warm coffee. If this was sin, he'd never want to be saved after having a drink like this.

For Altaira, her pleasure flowed in and out of her body, her orgasm continuing to fluctuate with the tide of what Lucifer delivered to her. It felt like her release would simply never end, to which she could be fine with that. Lucifer moved his free arm out to take her hand as she grabbed the sheets, and he held it as he carried her through her pleasure. As barbaric as this was, in some regards, he wanted the intimacy behind it, too.

Though, he had other reasons for the sweet gesture. She kept a tight hold on his hand for a long time, feeling the throes of pleasure for so much longer than she ever thought possible. But it was when her grip loosened, her hips becoming still, and her voice sounded thick with sleep that he let her go. He retracted his fangs and laved his tongue over the puncture marks to stop the flow with magic. His fingers slowly slipped out of her cunt, and he admired the webbing of slick and blood on them. After earning his admiration, he slipped his fingers into his mouth and enjoyed her flavor more.

With his hand cleaned off, he slowly crawled onto the bed, on top of her, and kissed her cheek.

"Darling, tap your finger if you can hear me," he called to her softly. He immediately felt her tap once. A soft smile smeared his lips, and he kissed her forehead as well. "Are you in pain? One for yes, two for no," he added. He felt two taps. "Very good. Would you like to take a break? One for yes, two for no." One tap. "Very well, sweetness. Let me get you comfortable."

---

Later that same morning, Mammon and Amso finally made their appearances, haphazard looking, in the kitchen. Levi snorted and Satan smirked at their sorry appearances.

"Well, well, well, look at what the hellbeast drug in," Satan cooed mockingly. He dropped the act and got serious. "You look terrible."

"We know," Mammon groaned, swiping at Satan and missing by a long shot.

Beel and Belphie rolled around the corner to the kitchen after hearing the commotion.

"Didn't Altaira go with you guys? Where is she?" Belphie pointed out, looking around.

Satan shrugged. "It looked like she was still in bed when I strolled by to wake her up. I assume her sugar is messed up and she's not hungry yet," he replied.

Belphie tilted his head. "She's not in her bed. When I went in there just a few minutes ago, it was just pillows."

Everyone looked around, and Satan turned off the stove.

"We obviously have to look for her," Levi pointed out. They all nodded in agreement.

Satan and Belphie led the way to look for her, with the other four brothers trailing behind as they searched the House. They had checked all likely places she could have been in the House, starting with her room and the observatory first, followed by the rest of the bedrooms. Even Lucifer's room was empty, to their dismay.

Finally, they convened in the library and stood around, trying to figure out where she could have gone.

"You did come home with her, right? Not a succubus in her form?" Satan groaned, holding his head in his hand as he questioned Mammon and Asmo about the previous night.

"For the hundredth time, yes!" Mammon barked.

"Mammon, don't shout. My head hurts," Asmo whined, laying in a settee dramatically, with his arm over his eyes.

Beel stood there listening until something caught his attention, a particular smell he was sure he'd smelled before, but couldn't quite place. He followed the trail to Lucifer's office door, and he pressed the hidden button he'd learned a while ago.

"Uh..." Beel mumbled.

The brothers looked over and quickly met Beel's side where they saw what had his attention.

Inside Lucifer's office was Altaira sprawled out on his desk, legs spread wide with her head hanging off the front edge of the desk with her mouth open in ecstasy and breasts bouncing with every thrust she took. Between her legs stood Lucifer holding them as far apart as possible, pounding away his cock into her leaking cunt. Both were as naked as the day was long, and each of the brothers went pale as they watched the entire thing unfold, or rather, watched Lucifer unfold Altaira further, and further...

"What the fuck, Lucifer!" Satan barked, turning away first to cover his eyes. "The hells is wrong with you?!"

Lucifer's head snapped up, and he snarled at the intrusion. "Get out, all of you," he barked. Altaira's eyes opened, and she saw the six brothers upside down from her view and grinned. They began to scatter, except Asmo, who just admired the two, before Mammon came back with his eyes covered to drag his younger brother away.

Altaira pulled her head up some to look at Lucifer. "Are you good to continue? Or do you want to stop?"

"Oh, I'm not stopping now. I've merely had a taste of you, and I'm not letting go just yet."

---

Thanks for reading! <3

Post made by sassykattery. do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @itsmeninerz @attic-club-sandwich

[msfcatlover]

@alycat76: What’s the platonic a/b/o one about?

Okay, this is immediately going under a readmore, because I know plenty of people hate the very concept of A/B/O, and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable.

.

SO! I have recently discovered that purely platonic A/B/O stories are actually something I kinda love. It’s about what it does to the setting, and the inter-character dynamics, and the incredibly intense hurt-comfort sickfics you can get out of it, and also I’m a sucker for empathetic bonds in fiction (people really don’t do enough with them.)

But there were some tropes that got repeated over & over again, while others I’d be interested in seeing just… never came up at all? And in the process of me spitballing what those fics would look like, I accidentally tripped and made a whole cohesive AU. Oops.

(Also, I saw like one person say, “What if betas could cancel out other smells as well as control their own,” in an ask somewhere, and proceeded to come up with a whole… thing that lets betas get in on all the sickfic & presentation fun that comes with this AU. It may or may not take up a full page of my notes. If anyone wants the specifics, just ask and I’ll post them.)

Anyway, the main pillars that this AU is built on are:

1. There are several fics where baby!Jay finds Robin in heat, knows full well how incredibly dangerous that is, and risks his own skin to hide Robin until either the heat passes or (most often) until Batman shows up. I love all of these. You know what I haven’t seen even once? Baby!Jason saving Dick Grayson in basically that same situation.

2. There are not enough fics where Bruce is a beta who uses his scent-control abilities to further separate his identities! *shoves my “Batman is just as much a public performance as Brucie Wayne” agenda into the very meta of this AU*

3. I am very fond of the “Jason’s big comeback plan goes completely off the rails” trope, especially when it comes in the form of needing to save a member of his family. I’ve seen a couple A/B/O fics with this premise with Tim. I have not seen any with Dick.

(Oh look, mirroring!)

4. It is here I realized why rut/heat-sickfics immediately became my drug of choice, and hey, if I’m gonna be projecting I might as well go all the way with it. *hands Dick a small mountain of medical complications on top of everything else*

5. My love of deceptive appearances (and the fact I have only found one (1) alpha!RH!Jason fic where I actually liked his part of it) means I am always going to default to omega!Jason.

6. So have you considered: Pack Alpha (by default) Tim? Oh, Bruce is still the Head of the pack, Tim doesn’t get to be automatically in charge or anything. But being the Pack Alpha comes with a whole host of extra instincts, which is only complicated further by the fact that as far as the rest of Gotham is concerned, when Tim first took on that role he wasn’t connected to the Wayne pack at all.

7. Hey, what do you think this particular arrangement does to Damian’s relationships with the family? Especially if we assume that, say, Talia refused to tell Damian their designations because it would be incredibly foolish to get a bunch of preconceived notions about the Bats just because of their secondary genders.

Things spiraled from there. I have, like, 10 drafts of both of those “Jason rescues Dick” fics, a whole bunch of fallout from Dick finding out Jason’s the Red Hood (some humorous, some not very much not,) Damian having a real rough time of it at the manor…

Here are my favorite story beats.

.

Dick actually initially rescued himself from the kidnappers, but then he was barefoot in Crime Alley with a chemical heat coming on fast while they looked for him. Dick yanks Jason down into his hiding space behind a dumpster before the kidnappers see Jason. Once the kidnappers leave, Jason offers to let Dick hide with him until the heat passes. Jason’s squat even has running water, even though it’s cloudy & cold.

Jason at some point says something about wishing he could make the nest better for Dick (who is obviously used to nicer things, but trying to make the best out of it,) which is when Dick remembers the emergency cash sewn into his clothes (Bruce is paranoid enough and you know it,) and gives it to Jason to go get whatever he thinks would be best.

While Jason is at the store, he sees the news about Dick Grayson being missing, an obviously distraught Bruce Wayne pleading for anyone to call with information. Jason remembers how Dick kept saying that his dad would be so worried. Jason remembers what it was like to sit up at night, wondering when or if his mom was coming home. Jason takes a few coins of his change to a pay phone to call the number, just to reassure Bruce that Dick’s safe.

Jason definitely panics when Batman kicks the door in that night, because as far as Jason’s concerned a very large, angry alpha just barged in on the omega Jason was trying to help (Dick even used the stupid Batman print towel Jason bought for him as the base of the nest, how is this fair?) Bruce sees a frightened, packless child ready to throw hands with the fucking Batman in order to keep Dick safe. Dick refuses to leave without Jason, because Dick’s already adopted him.

-

All of Gotham knows Jason was more Dick’s puppy than Bruce’s. Bruce is still the one who legally adopts Jason, since Dick is like, 16 at this point (Jason’s 10-11).

There’s a lot of whispering about why Dick completely disappeared from the public eye after Jason died. Dick so obviously adored the kid, and the few pictures people do get look so miserable, that most Gothamites get aggressively offended on Dick’s behalf if you try to suggest he had anything to do with it. He’s not even 20 and he’s grieving. Cut the boy some slack.

-

At some point after Tim becomes Robin, Dick needs to make a scene so he has an excuse to leave a party. After a quick check in to make sure Tim’s okay with it, a very drunk Richard Grayson proceeded to get on Janet Drake’s case about not appreciating the wonderful puppy she had waiting for her at home.

After helping him out of the room, Alfred came back to apologize for Master Grayson. “You’ll have to forgive him. It’s almost Jason’s birthday.”

In the greatest social blunder Janet ever made in her life (partially distracted by the wine stain on her new silver dress) she snapped out, “He’s still upset about that?”

(Fortunately for her, the room was loud enough that her voice didn’t carry far. But every conversation in a 20ft radius stopped dead. She did realize immediately and start to apologize, that came out wrong, oh god, she didn’t mean it like that!)

(Tim suggests Dick not antagonize Tim’s parents in the future after all.)

-

This is actually the verse that first made me realize I wanted Tim to ask Steph to be Robin in his place, because in this verse they’re not just losing Robin, they’re losing their Pack Alpha with nobody to replace him. That is so much compounding trauma just from one member leaving the pack, but if Steph takes Tim’s place as Pack Alpha before Tim’s dad makes Tim cut himself out of the pack…

-

(Cass & Alfred are both betas, for the record.)

-

Dick has a bad reaction to the inducers the second time Jason has to save him. By the time Jason hauls Dick back to the nearest safehouse, Dick’s such an emotional mess that the only way Jason could ever calm Dick down is for Jason to reveal his identity and repair their pack bond.

Dick knows it’s Jason, because you can’t lie through the bond.

(Tim shows up at some point in the night, and refuses to leave.  “He said no alphas,” Jason snarls.  “I wouldn’t be much of one if I left him alone like this with a stranger,” Tim snaps back.) (Dick drags Tim into the nest too as soon as he realizes Tim is there.)

-

Neither Dick nor Tim tell Bruce about Jason, because Jason made it clear he didn’t want Bruce to know. They do both proceed to hound Jason, trying to coax him back into the pack. Bruce is very uncomfortable with both of his sons being so determined to apparently befriend their newest rogue.

(I just have this delightful mental image of Nightwing dropping in on one of Red Hood’s meetings, saying he’s not there for trouble, framing it as an “I owe you for saving my skin” sort of thing. Before he leaves, Nightwing flashes his brightest smile at Hood. “By the way, Robin thinks you’re cool.”

Half of Jason’s goons die laughing as soon as they get over the shock.)

-

Damian picks a fight with Tim because (despite Talia’s best efforts,) Damian did pick up several assumptions about the different designations. Tim was the next-newest, so Damian could cement his place in the pack by beating the lowest alpha, surely.

Damian realized his mistake as soon as Bruce arrived. The pack Head is a beta. The Second is an omega. Which means Damian just picked a fight with the Wayne Pack Alpha.

And—since Tim is still breathing, speaking, and glaring daggers at Damian—Damian lost.

(Tim meets Damian’s gaze for 10 agonizing seconds before turning away with a lift of his chin; dismissive, just like Ra’s would do. Damian’s just like, “I am so dead.”)

-

(I have a bunch of other stuff that’s pretty much Hurt No Comfort of Dick dealing with his medical problems & also how this particular set up would probably affect his various assaults, and how the trauma from those would then compound back into those medical problems. It’s… it’s not good. It’s not fun. I don’t think anyone wants to hear about that.)

(It does give Jason the chance to hunt down Catalina Flores, and gave me the chance to type the line, “I don’t think you understand. I’m not his friend. I’m not his boyfriend. I’m not even a hero. I’m his son.”)

[dyns33]

Mistake part 2

I wanted to continue the lovely Shane x reader couple with communication problems because they needed it

When Y/N had said they would need help, she had been very serious. Shane had no doubt, he also wanted to do everything to save their marriage and he had promised to accept all her requests. However, he did not expect to find himself in the office of a marriage counselor.

"… It's a waste of time." he growled in the waiting room, his arms crossed and his eyes dark, showing that he didn't want to be here at all.

“Please, don’t start.”

"I'm just saying it's a waste of time and money. We don't need this."

“We clearly have communication problems, and she will help us.”

"We talked like adults and everything is fine now. We should be at the park with Judith or at a restaurant."

There were a lot more romantic moments and family outings since their divorce proceedings were dropped. Shane really tried hard, taking time away from his work to be with his family more often than not.

But it wasn't enough. Not for Y/N.

Something had changed. The trust wasn't completely broken, but it had taken a hit, and despite all her husband's promises and excuses, she couldn't look at him like she used to.

They slept in the same bed, but they didn't touch each other. Shane hadn’t tried, and Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to at the moment.

It's been over a month. It wasn't normal, it wasn't sustainable, but every time she tried to talk about it, Shane didn't seem to understand, assuming everything was fine. So she insisted that they go see a marriage counselor.

Doctor Noore seemed nice. Smiling, patient. She greeted the couple enthusiastically, inviting them to sit in front of her, and not losing her smile when she heard Shane groan.

"You don't seem happy to be here, Mr. Walsh. Why ?"

“Not my idea.”

"Why are you here ?"

“My wife thinks it’s necessary.”

“And she’s wrong ?” Dr. Noore asked, taking notes.

"No ! Shit, I didn't say that. Don't start doing things to me that I didn't say ! We had problems, because of me. We talked about it and we're working on it. I Don't think you'll help, but I can try if it pleases her."

"Hmm. Mrs. Walsh, why are you here ?"

"Shane and I… We have problems communicating. And trusting each other."

“I have complete trust in you.” her husband muttered quickly without looking at her, perhaps a little too quickly, because Doctor Noore observed him before taking further notes.

The first session was a little chaotic, but according to the specialist, it was normal. They were getting to know each other. Couples always had trouble opening up at first, and she was there to put them at ease.

At the end of the hour, she gave them an exercise to do at home, asking them to give her the results when they came back to see her.

“If we come back.”

"Of course, Mr. Walsh. So, I want you to compliment each other at least once a day. Any compliment, if you notice that your partner deserves or needs to hear something positive, do it."

Shane declared the exercise stupid. He said it in front of the doctor, he said it again in the car, and he said it again when Y/N tried to thank him for taking the time to bathe Judith and put her to bed while she did the dishes.

"No. You don't do that."

"Shane, why ? I'm really grateful that you…"

"That I what ? That I do things that all husbands should do ? There's nothing to say about that, I take care of our daughter, I help you around the house, nothing out of the ordinary."

"You work hard…"

“You work hard too, baby.” he sighed, looking terribly tired. "You do lots of things for us without complaining or expecting thanks. Let's go to bed now."

For the rest of the week, Y/N tried over and over again to compliment her husband whenever he did something good, and every time, he lashed out and left the room in a huff. The exercise was not really a success.

Doctor Noore did not seem surprised. She noticed something while listening to Y/N talk about their meeting and looking at Shane who was staring at the window, as if he wanted to be somewhere else.

They didn't talk about the cheating. It was a topic Y/N didn’t want to talk about.

To her, that wasn't the reason they were here. It was a consequence of the reasons for their presence here, this lack of communication, of patience, of trust. It happened after an argument, and it led to another argument. They had to learn to talk to each other.

"Mr. Walsh, would you say that you have always been an impulsive person ?"

"Yeah. Rick says I'm a brainless moron. My parents said that, my teachers said that. Hey, but if I thought before I acted, I would never have gone to Y/N and asked her to take a drink with me. I would have seen that she was so good and I would have walked away like a coward."

“You think your wife is too good for you ?”

"You don't ?" Shane growled, returning to a defensive position, his back buried in the gray sofa, arms crossed and without taking his eyes off the doctor.

The new exercise given by the doctor pleased Shane even less.

According to her, it was necessary for everyone to take some time for themselves, doing things without each other. This did not mean that they should no longer see each other, it might disturb Judith, but they had to distance themselves, particularly on a physical level.

The doctor explained that this would allow them to develop their communication, rather than going through actions, because both were important in a couple.

Y/N didn't dare tell Doctor Noore that they hardly touched each other since their reconciliation. The distance was already there. Shane would sometimes try to kiss her, with some hesitation, ending up aiming for her forehead or cheek rather than her mouth. She couldn't remember the last time they held hands or hugged.

Obviously, since he had been 'forbidden' to approach his wife, Shane immediately wanted to do the opposite. He had always had difficulty accepting authority and following orders.

“Shane, no.”

“I’m no longer allowed to kiss you before I leave for work, where I might get shot and never come back ?”

“It’s not funny, don’t say that.” Y/N sighed, but without approaching him.

"I'm not kidding. If you want me to sleep on the couch, say so. It'll be better to follow the good doctor's advice. But it's not just that, right ? You hate me. I disgust you. You regret letting me come back. I can leave if you ask me."

Fortunately Judith was already at school. But maybe Shane allowed himself to talk so much precisely because he knew that their daughter wouldn't hear him, and that she wouldn't suffer yet to see her parents arguing.

For her part, Y/N seemed desperate at what he was saying. By what he thought. Her hand moved, almost touching his cheek, but his wife stopped at the last moment.

"We have to try. I don't want to lose you, I'm doing this for us."

"I don't see how that helps us. I love you, dammit ! I'm an asshole who doesn't deserve to be with you. I didn't already deserve it before I fucked up like I did, and yet you married me, you gave me a beautiful child, and I ruined everything. Everyone knows it, the doctor knows it, and now… I can't even touch you."

"Shane. You're only doing this because she said not to. We haven't touched each other in weeks."

“I’m dying to touch you, baby.” he whispered, looking down. "But I have no right after what I did… I expected you would… I hoped… No, it's not your fault. You have the right to hate me. I'm the problem. I'm sorry, so sorry, honey."

"My love… I know. I know, and despite everything I have forgiven you. I love you. Come here."

They did not go to work that day, not leaving the bedroom. The only time apart was when Shane called Y/N's work to say she was sick, then when he called Rick to ask if he could watch Judith tonight, not caring what their boss would say regarding his absence.

Doctor Noore greeted them with a mischievous little smile during their next session, her eyes landing lightly on their necks, covered in marks.

“Did the exercise go well ?”

"Nah. We didn't follow it and we talked a lot, no thanks to you."

“If you say so, Mr. Walsh.” she said while continuing to smile, proving to Y/N that she had always known what her ban would cause. "It's a good thing if you have managed to communicate. We can space out the sessions if you wish to continue seeing me."

"No need."

"It will be perfect." Y/N replied, taking her husband's hand, who growled a little but didn't retaliate.

"I'm happy for you anyway. You're a lovely couple who clearly had a lot of affection for each other."

The sentence seemed to relax Shane. He had cried a lot, when he wasn't busy kissing his wife, apologizing again and thanking her for giving him a second chance when he didn't think he deserved it.

Since their conversation, things had returned to normal. Judith had noticed it too, happy to see her parents smile and taking her to lots of wonderful places whenever they had the chance.

Of course, everything wouldn't be perfect forever. Shane recognized that he had a lot of work to do, about learning how to say what he felt without yelling or being ashamed, and to listen to what others said to him without feeling attacked or judged.

However, he had made the decision to never drink again when he was in a bad mood or alone. Just a few beers, during parties, and only if someone offered him. He would never do stupid things while drunk again.

"I give you permission to cut off my balls if ever… You know. I can write it down, it will be proof in front of a jury."

“You’re still not funny.”

"I'm hilarious, that's how I seduced you the first time. I'm still amazed that you accepted my date at a crummy fast food joint on the side of a road."

“We were young, and I wasn’t there for the food.”

“What for then ? You could have found a lot better.”

“I’m very happy with what I have.” she whispered, kissing his cheek.

"Mommy ! Daddy ! I finished my ice cream, I want to go swimming !"

Forgetting what they were talking about, Shane stood up to take their daughter in his arms, reminding her that she had to wait to go swimming after she ate, tickling her and making her fly through the air, while Y/N resumed reading her book near the tent they occupied during their weekend at the lake as they had to do for months.

And everything wouldn't always be perfect, but it totally was in that moment.

[simslegacy5083]

Not So Berry (Straud Descendants) Gen 9

Today's (9/12/2024) Episode: Vive la Resistance!

Luigi and Noemi were up late and took their time rising the following morning. After enjoying a delicious breakfast in bed, they strolled back to the Resistance camp section of the park to meet their next quest giver.

Thew, a bright pink Twilek “basecamp engineer”, asked them to disrupt First Order transmissions, providing the critical distraction his team needed to mount a rescue operation. It would be “very dangerous” but if they succeeded, they would win the gratitude of Vi Moradi, leader of the rebel outpost.

As they made their way back to the teleporter Luigi suddenly pulled Noemi into the shade of some tall vegetation. “You know” he whispered “Thew did say that this next mission was very risky. It would be awful for us to meet our end, never having tried “that” thing we’ve always talked about…”

Noemi grinned, immediately picking up on what her husband was suggesting. “Well…” she said “if it might be our last day in this world, I think we owe it to ourselves. Then as I’m being dragged to my death, I’ll have that memory to hold onto.”

Luigi didn’t wait for her to say anymore. Without further adieu he jumped into the bush with Noemi close behind, and they proceeded to make passionate woohoo as if they might never have another chance in this life.

 A little while later the flushed and slightly sticky pair of lovebirds snuck into the Cantina to meet their Scoundrel contact.

Noemi continued to push herself socially, volunteering to handle locating and talking to the other sim to obtain the data spike they would need to complete their quest while Luigi kept an eye out for any “suspicious characters” who might be looking to cause them trouble.

She stumbled a bit over her words, clearly nervous, but the scoundrel actor was as patient as Luigi had promised. With a little subtle prompting she successfully “negotiated” ownership of a “contraband data spike that will get you a date with an interrogator droid if they catch ya with it!”

As they tried to stroll nonchalantly out of the bar a booming voice called out: “Luigi Lawbourne, as I live and breathe!”

Noemi rolled her eyes as the pair turned towards the distraction, sure that one of her husband’s many fans had tracked him down, until she realized the figure headed their way was decked out in the vibrant costume of the “main character” of this particular theme park faction.

Luigi greeted the newcomer enthusiastically “Eugene, I mean, Hondo my man! It’s been to long.” A fellow fan of Sims Forever, Luigi and “Hondo” had spent many a pleasant evening playing sabbac and talking about their favorite videogame franchise after their shifts were over (and sometimes before).

“I heard you were here” Hondo said, “but legitimate business was booming yesterday, and I missed you. If you’ve got a few minutes I’d love to catch up over a hand of Sabbac. You can tell me about this Sims knockoff you’re making, and maybe I can win back some of my credits from you or the lady.”

Feeling inspired by the actor’s roguish air, Noemi counteroffered: “If you’re hunting for juicy details, then you should know that “the lady” is lead architect for Project Daisy, and she’s willing to dish on all sorts of secrets… as long as you’re letting her win.”

Luigi laughed as Eugene quickly produced an oddly shaped deck of cards and temporized: “Why, what do a few credits matter compared to the joy of sharing a relaxing evening with old – and new - friends!” He waved them towards a table in a quiet corner of The Cantina and managed to alternately beg off or find coverage from other employees for several hours as they chatted.

It grew late before Hondo could put off his duties no longer and had to leave. “Be safe you two, and if you get tired of the Resistance, remember that I’m always looking for trustworthy sims to help me with my completely legal enterprise.” he said with a wink, hurrying out the door.

Data spike in hand, the couple snuck back into the First Order district to complete their mission of sabotage.

Sticking to the route they’d used successfully the day before they made their way to a partially concealed control panel. Even after Luigi assured her that “I’ll protect you with my life!” Noemi still looked around carefully before starting her task. Once she began, she became hyperfocused on the work, a tricky puzzle customized based on her datapad settings to challenge someone with her high-level programming skill.

When, some minutes later, Luigi heard her softly cry “Yes!” he turned around, a big smile on his face to see her so elated at her success.

The sun had set by the time they returned to the bubblegum colored Thew at the rebel base with the “vital access codes” they’d obtained.

“Fantastic!” the actor exclaimed “You’ve proven yourself to be a true ally to our cause. Now, if you’re interested in helping us out with something even more sensitive, Vi is working on her X-wing right over that hill and she’ll be taking you on your next, and most dangerous, mission so far.”

Luigi and Noemi grinned at each other. Finally, they would meet the infamous Vi Moradi and get to play a key role in freeing the galaxy!

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here