#and I can't help but feel that this kind of response does not exactly cover the speaker in glory

[igglemouse]

My day starts with my paper delivery job. Oh, yes, I guess I never mentioned that I do have a new job? Just something to supplement my jewelry thing as a little extra income never hurts and the job is easy enough. Drop papers at doorsteps and move on, that's it!

When I do make it home I find a surprising little bowl of stew sitting right on my counter. This must be the work of Niklas, who else would randomly do me a kindness like this? My only question is, did he make it with magic or cook it by hand?

And hey, whether it was made with a dash of magic or pure culinary skill it was pretty good all the same! Seriously, what doesn't he do? Maybe he's just showing off at this point.

In the middle of my meal Niklas strolls out of my restroom, as if he lives here, mind you, and asks if I'm enjoying the food. Honestly, yes, I am. Okay, alright, it's about a 6 out of 10 but it gets 2 bonus points simply because I didn't make it.

"So did you sprinkle a bit of magic in it?" I can't help but ask, it's a harmless question, but I imagine if I could make my dishes better with magic, I would.

"No? I mean I guess I could but-"

"Could you make the perfect meal with a touch of magic?"

"I guess you could? Never tried it though," he admits and from the look on his i can tell he's never really thought about it. He really doesn't like using his magic, huh?

"You really don't like using your watcher given abilities, do you?" I can't help but shake my head as he's made that very clear. It's a little frustrating. Having so much power at the tips of your fingertips and denying it all.

"Honestly, Grace, the whole bit is overrated."

"You keep saying that and yet just last night you waved your hands around and poof, clean tub. Just that alone is amazing."

But he's not convinced, he's shaking his head as if I don't get it at all and takes a deep breath before continuing. "The Realm and all it deals with is not only overrated but dangerous. The regular person lives a nice and safe calm life while we? Well, we could be called upon to face horrors you could never imagine."

"Well..." I falter behind his gaze just a bit because who wouldn't when facing unimaginable horrors? "I umm, yeah, I guess it's that whole great power great responsibility thing then."

"It's exactly like that."

"Alright then...but still, I don't see anything wrong with a little sprinkle of magic to make a pasta just a pinch better."

"I could try, mess up, and accidentally poison your food and you'd be in the hospital right now instead of just eating an average bowl of soup."

Ok, I guess I get his point.

So the man wants the normal life. I can't blame him for that. It sounds like he wants to just move to Henford and live out the rest of his days there or something, I don't know. Again, I can't blame him for that but personally...I'd like to be able to do something magical. I guess it is true, you always want what you can't have, unlesssss you want to soak in milk I guess and relax. You can absolutely have that.

Magic or no magic I am handling my bills pretty well. Thankfully, this place isn't too pricey so I can manage. It always feels good to have things under control financially.

Especially when I can sell a piece of jewelry for 1k. It's not a fortune in the grand scheme of things but it's enough to cover rent and still have simoleons left over. A little breathing room helps!

Hopefully this little ring will sell!

With the rain pouring down outside I can only decide to settle at my computer for the evening and dive into video games. There really isn't much else to do in my little place especially with Niklas off doing whatever he does. So it should be a quiet and peaceful night. Just me, the rain, and my laptop.

At least that was the plan but it looks like I'll be having a late night visitor.

Standing at my doorstep in the middle of a storm is none other than Lilja, the vampire I met earlier in the spring. Our first meeting was strange and now I can't help but wonder what brings her here on this rainy night. It's hard to tell from her expression as it is completely neutral and her eyes, cold and seemingly lifeless, stare right through me.

"So, may I?"

"Come in, you mean?" I ask, stupidly. Of course she needs an invitation. She's a vampire. "Y-yes, I guess so."

"Thank you."

"So, you're not going to like abuse my invitation, are you?"

Lilja chuckles softly at my question, amused in that delicate way of hers. "No, if I wanted to take you then you would have been taken," she says with precision. Perhaps she's right. I have been a little casual with my night time activities but she has made it clear that she's not out to harm me.

"So, then," I take a steady breath and gather my courage. "What brings you here? Despite the fact that I don't remember giving you my address or anything." But I'm sure she's been stalking me. Vampires are natural born stalkers, I might not know much about them but I do know that.

"Did you know that there was a ward put up around your house?" she asks that question with a tilt to her head, as if she is testing me.

"What? Yeah, a magician friend put one up, I'm not sure why-"

"Friend huh?" She gives me a knowing look. Does she know about Niklas? "It was a very weak ward but it did tingle just a little bit, it seems your wards are...weakening."

"Yeah, he's..." I trail off but then stop myself. Why am I explaining this? "Are you stalking me?"

"Watching you, did you forget our deal?"

"I..." guess I have. "Can you remind me again?"

"The blood magic," she says, watching me, her eyes intent and focused upon my expressions. "Do you remember?" and so it comes back to me, the deal, the offer of her maker willing to teach me blood magic. It felt theoretical at the time but now it feels much more concrete.

"I-, yes, I do remember now. Is it difficult to learn?"

"No, just costly."

"Costly? May I ask why you're willing to do this? What is in it for you and your umm...maker?"

"Everything," the weight of that word brings silence and for a moment I'm not sure what else to say. "The Realm have hunted our kind to near extinction and only the help of a blood witch can save us now."

"Oh," so am I the chosen one? "You can't just find someone else?"

"It is in your blood, your mother-"

"Yes, yes, she was a blood witch, I know."

"I am inviting you back to the castle," she says, and I'm reminded me that she had warned me against coming back because her maker might attack me again and she sees that concern and memory in my eyes. "He rests still, he is still weak. He needs...blood."

"Umm, yeah, sure, since you are inviting me I guess, does Saturday work."

"Yes, sounds perfect."

I'm not sure what the time is but I am getting a little uncomfortable with her here. "Umm, now, it's getting kind of late for me so if you don't mind..."

Episode List - Next Episode 3.4

[marjorierose]

This thread seems to have begun with someone who thought that "blaming everything bad about the US on the Puritans" was an original idea, and not a major feature of American culture for at least two hundred years.

Also saying, as one person up there does, that we didn't get taught the pilgrims were puritanical is. I mean. Look closely at that sentence. Consider what words are in it.

[knavesflames]

hi baby ❤️

consider bunny!arle in heat who keeps fucking you over and over. she wants to give you her baby bunnies so badly, but she can't :(

so, the best you can do is give her one of those straps with fake cum.

but now seeing it leak out of you gets her even more excited, tail all twitchy as she fills you up over and over 🤭

I’M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!!!!!! Here you go<3

Contents: fake breeding, just sex, Arlecchino just wants baby bunnies fr

Word count: 1074

Nsft utc!

“You didn’t tell me.”

“It is pointless.”

“Why?”

She sighs, thumping her feet on the floor in annoyance. Your petting of her head turns into soft strokes. It’s quiet for a few seconds before she rolls over again.

“I want to breed. I cannot breed. Therefore, it is pointless.”

You can’t help but smile, though you feel a little guilty for smiling when she grumbles a “why the hell is that funny?” You shake your head, apologising before you stand up and walk to your closet in the bedroom, fishing for something. You can hear her grumbling all the way from the living room, and once you finally find what you’re looking for, you come back to her. A box, wrapped in plain crimson wrapping. You bend down to her again.

“Open it, will you?”

“I apologise, love, but I am not in the mood to open gifts.”

“Trust me. Open it.”

She groans as she sits up. She knows you won’t let it go until she opens it, so she decides to humour you. She doesn’t bother with her usual opening style, clean and preserving the paper. She rips into the paper before she comes face to face with a black box. She gives you a pointed look, as if to say “really?” before she opens the box, only to find a strap on and a harness.

Her face crumpled in confusion, her eyes moving up to meet yours, your prideful smirk covering your face.

“The hell is this? My love, we have enough of these.”

“No, no. It.. it has fake cum, it’s safe to go inside of me. It’s not real, I know, but it’s the closest we’ll get. It’s already set up. You want to breed me when you’re like this. It gives you the illusion, does it not?”

She lets out a shaky breath, staring at the contents of the box before she mutters under her breath.

“I fucking love you.”

You can only chuckle in response, but it ends quickly as a gasp rips through you. She’s on top of you within seconds, sliding your shirt up and off your body, her thumbs dipping under the waistline of your shorts before roughly dragging them down. She seems to be already panting as she fumbles with the harness, staring at your flushed face below her. You hear a few clicks before you feel her slap it against you, gathering the slick that quickly developed with what sounds like an almost whimper. You can see in her eyes she wants to make you wait, that she wants to tease you until you beg her, but she’s losing all restraint. And then you breathe out a moan and she loses herself, pushing into you with no warning, causing both of you to groan in unison. Your hand clutches the carpet, murmuring to Arlecchino who is thrusting into you quickly, breathing heavily into your neck.

“We are on the floor.”

“Don’t care. Take it.”

Your body ends up moving with the force of each thrust, your noises growing louder with every minute that passes. Her thrusts are shallow and quick at first, her only noises being grunts and growls of pleasure. You can tell she’s close by the way her movements change, becoming hard and deeper than ever, her grunts turning to whines as her tail begins twitching. You feel yourself clench around her strap, and as your orgasm rides over you, the strap does exactly what it’s supposed to do. Arlecchino gasps, holding onto you as you tremble and moan. She pulls out, if only to see the ‘cum’ dripping out of you as she roughly rubs your clit with her thumb. She’s kind enough to give you some respite.

Until she starts again, grunting with increased desperation, her hips stuttering as they move without any certain rhythm, her hands pulling and keeping your thighs apart. She moves you into every position possible with each time she fills you. A mating press, your legs hooked over her shoulders, and now, on all fours, a pretty arch of your back that she has pushed you into before she moves her hand into your hair and pulls your head up roughly with a sharp tug of your hair, causing some strangled gasp to come out of your mouth. Arlecchino, being the woman that she is, pulls your head back so she can look at you as she fucks you, watching your face twist in overstimulation and pleasure as tears begin to fill your eyes. She doesn’t stop, though. You haven’t said the safe word, so why would she?

“Take it. Take my cock and have my children. You look so pretty with my cum dripping out of you. I won’t stop until I’m certain I’ve bred you well enough. Now cum. Again.”

You obey, though you can’t stop your body reactions. This time, it’s too much, as you cry out, your breath hitching as you speak the safe word. She slows down, coming to a stop. She stays inside of you for a while, her grip releasing on your hair as her face comes down to nuzzle in your neck before pulling out with a soft, wet pop. The floor is covered in the ‘cum’, and it’s dripping out of you, trailing down your trembling legs. She lays you back down on the floor, albeit the fact the floor is messy. Her hands trail up your legs, her tail still twitching as she gathers the fluid with her fingers.

“You have made me make a mess, love. Thank you for the gift. We’ll go again tomorrow.”

[writingmingyu]

Put a Shirt On, Kim Mingyu

Pairings: FuckBoy!Mingyu x afab!reader Summary: Your fwb Mingyu sent you a message and you can't ignore it Genre: College AU, Smut, Minors DNI Warnings: Protected sex - use of a condom, reader is a little mean and a little selfish Word count: ~1.9k

Author’s Note: Happy New Year! I saw this photo and I had an idea (I mean who didn't look at this photo and have ideas 😈) This was fun and something new, we always talk about taking clothes off this man but when do we ever put them back on??? And so it escalated from there.

I hope you enjoy as always ^_^

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

*1 new message*

You reach over to your nightstand to check the message.

It is an image of Mingyu, your fuck buddy. It is cropped so you can only see his bare shoulders in the mirror selfie. You up? The caption says.

You roll your eyes. As much as you like hooking up with Mingyu, sometimes he could be a complete douchebag. This was why you were only fuck buddies and you hadn’t taken the relationship any further. Sometimes you thought he could be the kind of guy you wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring home to your family, other times he did shit like this.

No, put a shirt on and go to bed. You reply. Refusing to look at the image he had sent. He had annoyed you by saying something dumb the previous day so you were not going to appease him by coming over right now.

A few minutes go by and there’s no response, usually Mingyu would take the bait and keep up the banter but there was nothing. So you take another peek at the photo.

It was slightly blurry and he had cropped it in such a way that you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing with his other hand…you had a rule with him - no dick pics. But that didn’t mean he didn’t send you ones implying his dick was out.

For example, in this image, you could imagine him just standing there, naked in front of the mirror, holding his cock proudly. What an asshole.

But still, you couldn’t help but linger on the photo. Picturing the muscles he’d concealed from the photo, how large his arms were and the feel of them as they were tensed as he fucked you senseless. His large body encompassed you completely as he provided you with numerous orgasms.

Great, now you were horny. You hadn’t even been thinking about Mingyu since he pissed you off. But he knew exactly what he was doing sending you a photo like this.

You put the phone down. Determined not to give in and take matters into your own hands.

Settling into your bed, and pulling out your favourite vibrator, you are ready to begin but a new text flashes up on your phone from Mingyu and makes you curious.

Make me.

Make me. As if those words ever lead to anything but badness.

You put away your toy and reached for some sweatpants, it was time to pay Mingyu a visit. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Y/N, what a surprise,” Mingyu said when he opened the door, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Shut up,” you respond, pushing your way into his dorm room and heading towards his drawers.

“You know that’s not where I keep the condoms.” He says casually, closing the door.

“I know,” you open the first drawer and pick out a t-shirt. “Sit down.”

Mingyu is confused but he sits on the edge of his bed anyway, enjoying the bossy tone you were using.

You close the drawer and turn to finally take in the sight of him. He was still shirtless, wearing a pair of boxers, presumably thrown on to have a little modesty while opening the door. You let your eyes soak in the view that his cropped photo denied you, if only because you were about to cover it up.

“What game are we playing today?” he asks as you walk over and straddle his lap.

“It’s not a game,” you say, grinding your core down against the bulge in his boxers as you scrunch the shirt up in your hands, “you said to make you put a shirt on, so I am. Put your arms up.”

Mingyu lets out a laugh but does what he’s told. You hadn’t really considered the logistics of this, as when Mingyu raised his arms, it was slightly out of your reach to put the shirt on. But you weren’t going to give up.

You raised yourself up, purposely brushing your whole body against Mingyu’s as your fingertips brushed against his wrists trying to get the t shirt over his hands. 

Seeing your struggle, Mingyu lowers his arms a little, allowing you the reach to pull the t shirt down over his arms, you move down his body slowly, stopping to make sure the shirt goes over his head before bringing the rest of the material down over his torso.

“There,” you say when you’re finished.

“Happy?” There’s a small smile playing on his lips.

“Yes,” You shift your hips towards him, his cock pulsing against your core.

“I’m sure you could be happier,” his hands reach for your hips to grind you down against his length again.

You let out an involuntary moan before taking Mingyu’s hands from your hips and placing them on the bed. “Don’t touch me, I’m still annoyed at you.”

“I know, but you came over, so you can’t be that annoyed right?”

“Maybe I’m just horny,”

“Join the club,”

You both sit staring at each other for a few seconds, it wouldn’t be the first time you had taken your frustrations out using Mingyu. But this would be the first time you would be using him to work out the frustration you had against him. And you didn’t think he deserved the pleasure.

“Take your boxers off,” you stand up heading to his bedside drawer to grab a condom.

You return to stand in front of Mingyu and he has done as you asked. He’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands, his cock standing proud against his clothed stomach.

You open the condom and roll it over his cock. “Wipe that smile off your face,” you say as you straighten to pull your bottoms off. “This is for me,”

“Sorry,” he replies trying to keep his face neutral, but he was enjoying your bossy side a lot. You usually didn’t complain too much when he took charge of your hookups, in fact, you preferred it because you didn’t have to think too much. The only time you were vocal is when Mingyu was first learning the best way to make you cum, but he was a fast learner.

“And if you cum before me,” you moan as you sink down onto his cock. “I won’t speak to you for two weeks. And that’s no fun for anyone.”

“It’s not,” he agrees, breathing heavily as you begin to ride him. “If I’m good will you forgive me?”

“We’ll see,” you use Mingyu’s shoulders to keep yourself stable as you move your hips in a steady rhythm, making sure the tip of his cock hits your favourite spot every time.

Mingyu does as he’s told and doesn’t interact, he just watches as you take your pleasure from him, trying not to think too hard about how hot you look and how the sensation of your walls clenching around him is driving him crazy. He loved when you were on top, taking charge with your tits bouncing in his face. It’s a shame he couldn’t see them in their full glory, as you had opted to keep your shirt on, but that was probably helping him in his quest to keep it together until you got your release.

It doesn’t take long before you feel your orgasm building, you reach down to stimulate your clit, your other hand digging into Mingyu’s shoulder as the pressure builds. You had never left a mark on him before, that was one of his rules but this time you think you might have pierced his skin through the material of his shirt, but you didn’t care.

“F-fuck Gyu, your cock always feels so good,” you whine as you get closer to the edge, looking down at him. His body tenses as he tries to hold off his own orgasm, the material of his shirt stretched to its limits due to his ridiculous size. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he sighs, closing his eyes, as you bounce faster on his lap.

“Look at me,” you demand, “watch me cum.”

Reluctantly, Mingyu reopens his eyes. His hips involuntarily bucking into you and sending you over the edge. You moan out his name as you cum, one hand still rubbing your clit as you ride out your high. The stimulation and the sight of you proving to be too much, Mingyu cums too, he curses under his breath as his cock pulses within your walls.

Neither of you say anything as you wait for your breathing to return to normal, Mingyu lies flat on his back and you rest your hands on his chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles rising and falling as he breathes. Part of you wants to lay on top of him because his torso always looks so inviting but it would be too intimate so you stay upright.

“Is all forgiven?” Mingyu asks as he sits up, removing the condom after you stand.

“I guess so,” you reach for your discarded clothes. Turns out that taking your frustration out on Mingyu was just what you needed. And you couldn't be sure, but you think he liked that you were a little mean to him. 

“So you’ll come over tomorrow night?” He had a wicked grin on his face that caused your stomach to flip.

“No, I don’t think you deserve that.” You say turning your back to him and reaching for the door. Trying to stay composed before you ended up staying longer. 

“I'll come to you then,” 

You roll your eyes. “I think you've done enough coming recently don't you?”

“It was still after you!” 

You laugh despite yourself, “That's true you did hold off. Proud of you.”

“Thanks, it was tough. Ya know, you're really hot when you're mean.”

“Aww does baby have a kink?” You had turned around again and were leaning against the door. 

“Shut up,” Mingyu blushes and comes to stand next to you. “I thought we didn't kink shame.”

“And I thought you liked it when I was mean,”

“Touché,” he leans down to kiss you on the cheek. That was another rule, you didn't kiss on the lips. It was silly but somehow it helped you remind yourself that Mingyu wasn't your boyfriend. Yet when he kissed you on the cheek it was the most intimate gesture in the world. “Thanks for coming over,”

“It's not like I wanted to. But you know I can't ignore a challenge.”

“Hmm I don't know seemed like you really wanted it.” He smiled. 

“Whatever,” you push him away so you can open the door. It was late and you wanted to go to sleep. “I'll text you?”

“Sounds good,”

“Also if you ever send me another photo like that again I will have to block you. It's full torso or fully clothed. Got it?”

“Got it,”

It’s only a minute later when you get another photo through from Mingyu. This time, it’s a photo of his chest, still covered by the t shirt you had just put on him. My new favourite shirt. He captioned the photo.

You rolled your eyes before leaving him on read. It was taking all your strength not to go back there and get him to wipe the smug grin off his face and rip his shirt while you were at it. But maybe you could revisit the idea when he inevitably came over tomorrow night…

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Farmboy

I hate grocery shopping. Usually I make whatever dumb chick I'm seeing do that crap, but I'm between hoes right now. Hopefully the cashier is hot enough to flirt with.

Dragging the cart down the aisle, I almost run into a giant oaf studying a rows of cans. The guy is tall, fat, and severely sunburnt. I can tell he's got some impressive muscle beneath his chub; probably from all the labor he does on his farm. Wearing denim overalls and a straw hat, he's essentially a walking cliche.

"Hey move it, redneck," I snap.

"You have a problem with me, son?" he slowly turns and peers out from his dirty beard.

"Not you," I answer annoyedly, "Just your fat ass. Move it."

This guy has to be slow because he just doesn't seem to get it. Instead of getting out of my way, he takes lumbering steps towards me and grabs my cart with his meaty paws.

"Try again, son."

"Man, let me through already!" I roll my eyes, "Are you dumb or something? All I want to do is pass! Then you can get back to shoveling crap and humping cows, ok?"

The hulking farmer staggers towards me until his fat stomach almost bumps me over.

"You think I shovel crap and hump cows all day?" he quietly growls down at me.

"Sure. You probably sleep with the pigs too big guy," I add.

"That sounds more like something you would do, kid," he slowly retorts.

"Man, look at me," I cry, "Do I look like a filthy redneck?"

"Actually you do."

His response catches me off guard. I'd just wanted to get the shopping done, but now this guy is straight up lying to my face. No one could ever mistake me for a country bumpkin with my stylish hair and $300 sneakers.

"You look exactly like a farmboy," he continues to grumble, "Just take a look at your hands, kid. See how worn they are; how filthy they are. That's the sign of hard work right there."

I can't help but hold my hands out in front of me.

That can't be right! Just like he said, dirt and dust cover my palms all the way up my arms. They're somehow riddled with callouses even though I rarely used my hands for anything.

"What'd you-"

"And look at what you're wearing, kid," he keeps talking, "You've been tracking dirt all through the store with those boots."

"I have $300 sneakers..." I nervously glance down.

I almost scream when I don't see my favorite kicks. My shoes have somehow been replaced with big rubber boots. I don't even own a pair of these, and yet they cover my feet all the way up my shins. Like the farmer had said, they were caked with mud, and it looks like I had created a messy trail of footprints across the store.

"Stop," I beg quietly.

"Stop?" he laughs and each bellow echoes through the store, "I'm just getting started, kid. You haven't even looked in the mirror yet. You've got the same bib overalls I got on!"

I shudder and turn away, abandoning my cart to run through the store in my awkwardly huge boots. I need to find the nearest bathroom and fast. I can already feel my clothes changing and a pair of straps pulling at my shoulders.

Bursting into the restroom I stare at my reflection.

I'm wearing the same redneck outfit as that farmer freak! Before I start ripping the clothes off, the door slams open and the giant farmer lumbers in.

"Stop whatever it is you're doing to me!" I scream, "Give me my clothes back!"

"Why would I do that, kid," he asks, "You love this getup. You don't want those fancy city clothes anyway."

I cringe as the tall boots suddenly feel very comfortable on my feet. The straps of the overalls on my shoulders are all the sudden very comforting to me. God this thing stinks, but I feel a new kind of pride in that stench. It is after all my own smell. There's nothing wrong with reeking of hard work, right?

"That's it, kid," the big redneck pats my head with his dirty hand, "There's nothing you'd rather do than work on my farm, right?"

God, he's right. All that land, the animals, and solitude sound perfect. I would be happy to work on his farm.

"Alright farmboy, come with me."

I follow behind the giant as he marches out of the grocery store. I notice that the cashier is exceptionally cute when we pass, but a pretty girl like that has no interest in me. She cringes at my smell. Girl probably can't handle the smell of a real man.

Back at the farmer's ranch, he leads me to the barn, and shows me inside.

"You'll live in here with the animals, kid," he explains, "I'll teach you the routine of feeding all them, but I have other chores for you to do right now."

The farmer hands me a shovel and bucket. Both things are covered in mud and who knows what else, but I don't mind. I already can guess what my job is.

"Picking up crap and humping cows, huh," he chuckles, remembering words I said a lifetime ago, "Well you can get started by shovelling all the crap. We'll see about the cows later."

"Awesome," I smile, happy he's already trusting me with his animals.

I get right to work, shovelling up the piles of dung. I can't help but smile with joy. This work just makes me so happy. I should probably keep my mouth closed though if I don't want any flies buzzing in, but I just can't help myself. Boy, am I glad I ran into the guy.

[sourw0lfs]

dance with the devil - part four

Words: 622 | Rating: E (not this part but previous parts so consider it as a whole) | CW: mentions of blood and death, past alcohol consumption/hangover

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || part eleven || part twelve

Steve scoffs. "Magic isn't real."

"No?" The stranger's eyebrow raises and his eye light up in amusement. "Then how did I get rid of your hangover just now, genius?"

Rolling his eyes, Steve's ready to fire a smartass answer right back, but he pauses. Because he doesn't actually have an answer to the question. There's no logical explanation for the blinding light, the glowing eyes, the sudden lack of hangover. At least none that his brain can find. Which leaves him with the illogical answers, like fucking magic apparently. Huffing, he crosses his arms over his chest. "Not magic," he mutters finally but the response is weak and lacking conviction.

Honestly, though? He doesn't have time for this. There's a body in another room not even twenty feet away from him and he's still covered in blood. The hangover being gone is the least pressing of his worries.

The stranger in the doorway clicks his tongue in thought as one of his hands moves up to absently twirl a curl around his finger. "I suppose not magic is actually probably more accurate," he muses. "It was just the first thing I thought of that you might understand."

Which helps Steve's confusion exactly none, but he decides it doesn't matter as he moves to push past the stranger with a gruff "whatever, dude", finally feeling up to dealing with the murder scene he woke up to but with no clearer idea of how he's doing that. As their shoulders brush when Steve passes by, a jolt of electricity shoots down his arm, ending painfully at his fingertips and leaving him reeling to the side as the stranger does the same. Two sets of wide eyes stare into each other, and finally the stranger looks as confused as Steve feels.

"I am so having words with Joyce later…" the stranger mutters to himself as Steve gets control of himself again and continues down the hallway.

There's footsteps following after him, stopping a couple of steps back as they reach the threshold to the living room. "I can help with this, too, you know. If you want," the stranger offers and it's enough to get Steve peering over his shoulder.

"What? Gonna magic it away too?" he sneers, because a hangover is one thing, but a dead body? Surely this guy has people that will miss him if he stops showing up. Making it all disappear would solve nothing.

Stepping around Steve and pointedly making sure they don't touch again, the stranger looks around the room for a moment before it lights up in the same blinding way as the bathroom. When it clears, leaving Steve blinking away spots from his vision, the blood splatters across the room are gone and the mangled body in the center of the room is noticeably less mangled. "I can't bring him back, but I can make it look less like a murder," the stranger says as he turns back towards Steve, wide, dimply grin back in place.

Steve gapes at the scene in front of him, brain desperately trying to process what just happened and coming up blank. Because blood doesn't just disappear and bodies don't just suddenly knit themselves back together, right? It's impossible. But so is everything else Steve has come across this morning, so maybe he's just missing some very vital world information. "What the fuck?" he mumbles so softly he can barely hear himself. "What are you? Who are you?"

Something in the stranger's gaze softens as he looks at Steve this time, replacing the (admittedly kind of asshole-ish) amusement that's been dancing around his features all morning. "Name's Eddie," he replies. "And the easiest explanation, I suppose, would be that I'm your guardian angel."

tags: @chaosgremlinmunson @soaringornithopter @hbyrde36 @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @quevadilla @tboyeddie @penny00dreadfull @momotonescreaming @stevesbipanic @dawners @little-birch-boy @steddiejudas @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @estrellami-1 @vthx @lolawonsstuff @gleek4twd

i tried to tag everyone that asked, but a couple aren't pulling up, sorry! if you want added, just let me know <3

[usopps-devotee]

can you PLEASE write some fluff/comfort for your angst Luffy writing? 😫 i wanna give him forehead kisses and cuddles PLEASE

(it was amazing btw!!!)

Anon I know what you asked for but imma make this a series and giving this to yall next time, but life has been interesting (derogatory) since the beginning of February 😋

Pt 1 not your fault

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, like one mention of blood, no harm tho its used as an expression, please know it's okay to ask for help sometimes, mention of skipping meal.

Wc 1.3k

It's been some time since you found him crying, the only immediately noticeable change is Luffy seems to be more aware of you and touch you than before. Maybe that's why he noticed your disappearance today. The reason why he's noticed every flinch within the last week, the tears that started to well up but didn't fall when you dropped a teacup, trying your best to laugh it off as Sanji and robin assured you it was okay. The moment of deep breaths after any loud sounds, Luffy swears he saw your soul leave your body when Usopp and Franky started to try something new with Sunny's cannon. Zoro was there to notice the last one too joking about you being jumpy, your captain surely noticed you becoming quieter after that moment.

So when he walked into your room without knocking, he didn't mind being hit in the face with the pillow you threw. Not knowing or caring who it might have been, only focused on the darkness of being hidden under the covers. You heard his footsteps come closer as he tried to figure out where your head was. When it was located he sat down and pulled you into his lap. Not bothered to move the plush fortress you are surrounded in. Being so close to him helped, your body relaxed at the contact, not knowing how much you may have needed the connection.

"You missed breakfast, Sanji said you missed dinner as well." 

Knowing this isn't exactly about the missed meals, while he is worried about that, it's more so the fact that you haven't left your room. Being one of, if not the most, cuddly members of the crew seeing you spend so much time alone was jarring to him. After all, if Luffy had a problem he came to you. So why couldn't you do the same, was he the problem? Is someone else on the ship? What could be disturbing you so much?

The worst part is if you were honest, you didn't have a clue. You had just been feeling wrong, completely off without reason. Now that your captain has found you alone and distressed, it only makes the tangles and knots in your gut feel worse. Guilt plagued you as you didn't have to see his face to know that his wide eyes had been staring down at you for any movement, for any symptom that you could be getting better or worse. For any kind of response really, he just hopes it's not more remorse. When he does finally feel you move it's a good 30 seconds of trying to get one hand out of the blanket before you're tugging him closer. There's the feeling of his arms wrapping around your body as his heartbeat can now be heard through the thick blanket. You're not sure how much it helped but it definitely helped the tears stuck in your eyes finally fall.

You feel yourself starting to shake as a voice in the back of your head tells you you're being dramatic. You have no clue what started this ache, with him here you can't push it down till it goes away like you were trying to do. It bubbles up and slowly consumed you, not able to pinpoint whatever emotion this is all you can focus on is how overstimulating everything is. You can't concentrate on his heartbeat anymore, you can hardly breathe. Choking on the first sob before you feel it come up. There's nothing to hide, you're mental state is as scattered as paint across a floor. Desperate for something, anything, to ground you. Luckily luffy is still there, peeling the covers off from over your head, you're too trapped in it to notice that most of the movement isn't coming from you.

He's worried about you hyperventilating, the last thing he wants is for you to pass out at a time like this. You haven't even told him what's wrong yet. You helped him with him and he wants to do the same, he wants to solve it if he can. He made sure to take things slowly, not rushing to any conclusions, just being there in the moment. Seeing your face filled with tears made him want to jump into action. There has to be something he can do to get them to stop. All he could think to do was hold you close, going as far as to place the shank's hat on your head to see if that would help. Everything only made you sob harder.

The hand thought placed on his chest now balled into a fist gripping his shirt for dear life, the other wrapped around his shoulders so you buried your face in his neck. It's highly plausible the rest of the crew can hear your despair, as your captain Luffy would make sure you are not teased for this, just as he put Zoro through a mini hell for laughing at you days before. He wants to treasure you, you're the only one who lets him feel human, let him feel and express instead of hiding behind his smile. He's so lost in his thoughts he almost missed you speak.

"Thank you."

It's hushed and horse, no surprise as all you've done today is sleep and cry. But it's the only thing you can think to say. To your surprise, those two little words shocked Luffy. Why are you thanking him? He hasn't done anything yet? Were you just overwhelmed? Now he's just as lost in your emotions as you are. He really doesn't want to rush, nor does he know how to ask. Confusion is written across his face, he does reach one conclusion. Touch helps, he helped him, it was helping you, so what had you done that night that when you comforted him? He's brought back to the kiss you placed on his forehead, full of warmth and comfort, maybe the same would work for you.

Sheer embarrassment, terror, and panic flooded through your system as Luffy tiled your chin up towards his face. Causing more tears to well up and fall but he kisses them all away. Starting from where they would gather and fall off your chin he worked his way up one side of your face, kissing all the tears he could see and then the corner of your eye before moving to the other one. For the first time in days you smile, you smile, it's not faked, forced, or caused by nervousness. None of it, it's a real, genuine smile. It makes Luffy beam from ear to ear as he now sprinkled kisses anywhere he could reach. It makes you laugh, he's never been happier to hear the sound of your laughter. He'd kiss you forever if it meant you'd never be sad again. But he still had that nagging question in his gut.

"What made you cry in the first place?" He almost reconsidered the question when the smile immediately dropped from your face. Maybe he should have asked another day or basked in it a bit longer. "I- I don't know, I just- everything feels so-" Wrong, out of order, discombobulated. Like your heart has been thrown against a wall just to see the blood splattered. There's definitely a strong emotion behind this all but you're struggling to articulate it. Whatever it might be. "It's fine if you don't know, just tell me how to help, okay?" You nodded thinking, trying to get your mind out of the dark place that it currently resides in. The only thing that has helped so hard was him, his voice, his arms, the sound of his heart beating, his smell, his kisses, everything about Luffy rang with comfort there was nothing else you could want or need but him.

"Please just don't let me go."

[remushrts]

bike killer

— pairing: marlene mckinnon x fem!reader

— a/n: i loved writing this actually!!! pls if you have any marlene requests feel free to send them, she's underappreciated really

— warnings: blood/talk of injuries but it's only a scraped knee, a meet-ugly (?) in some ways but marlene can run into me anyday with her bike

From all the ways you've met people along the years, this was, without a doubt, the most embarrassing and unique one. You were heading to work when you decided to get a shortcut by the park next to your favourite coffee shop. It was early in the morning, and despite a few other pedestrians like yourself, the park was pretty empty. You could get a little fresh air before you spent the next hours locked in a cubicle, and the smell of the freshly cut grass was always invigorating. It was a nice day out, the kind of day you cannot help but let your mind wonder.

You shouldn't have, all things suggested, because the moment you look away from your path, out of nowhere, a biker slams into you.

You fall into your knees with the impact, feeling the harsh pavement scraping your skin raw, your skin brushing against the fabric of your skirt and staining it with blood. "Great, exactly what I needed today!" You huff, picking up your purse and raising your eyes to the transgressor.

The blonde girl carelessly tosses her bike to the grass, helping you up with a hand. The moment might be far from the best, but all you can think about is how she might be the nicest looking girl you've ever met. Her hair is tied in two braids and from up close, you can see a couple freckles on her nose and cheeks, the small gap on her teeth showing when she speaks. She does have an accent, though you can't detect from where precisely. "I'm sorry, it must be my brakes." She sounds sincere, her arm still held out like you were about to fall to the ground again at any moment. She looks down at your knees, wincing. "I'm really sorry, shit, that looks bad..."

"Tell me about it." You try to laugh it off, doing your best to ignore the spike of pain that stings your nerves every time you try to support your weight on your right leg. It took most of the impact of your fall, so you're not surprised the pain is worse.

The girl in front of you seems to think for a moment before she runs back to her bike, searching through her backpack for what seems to be a first aid kit. "It's not much, okay, but I think it's better to clean this up at least. Are you in a hurry?"

You shake your head, not even bothering to check the clock. You knew your boss would be understanding, given the conditions you were currently in.

The girl nods to you, quickly putting herself to work. She tells you her name is Marlene, and her friend, Lily, who lives a few streets back in that same neighborhood, is an emt with her brother, hence the first aid kit in her bag. She tells you that her brother made her learn how to patch up a few scratches, because of the number of accidents she's been involved in last summer, mostly, she adds, victimless. You crack a "So I just got lucky?" at the remark, earning a laugh from her. All the time she's talking and easing you up as she pours the rubbing alcohol on your wounds to disinfect them, and all the time you're looking at her face so grateful for the small talk. "Okay, we're done. Think you can get up now alright?"

You try to, pushing yourself up and leaning against a tree trunk, the pain is far from gone, but at least the bruises are properly dressed and cleaned. You thank her for her help, and she smiles awkwardly at you in response, scratching the back of her hair.

"It's nothing, really. Here..." She pauses, picking up a pen from her pocket and scribbling numbers on the inside of your arm. "That's my number, let me know if I need to cover your medical bills, or a new skirt." She jokes, clicking the pen with a flourish as she finishes.

"You might just have to." You laugh softly, looking at the wiggly lines on your skin. You make sure to add her to your contacts as soon as possible.

"i saved your contact as bike killer"

"close enough."

[moonypears-blog]

Let us walk the halls.

Summary: Sofia's yet again saved the kingdom from another treacherous villain, only this time she can't get the other possible outcomes out of her mind, and it's preventing her from getting a good night's rest. Luckily, her mentor knows just how to quiet her mind.

Wordcount: 2,157.

Sofia sighed deeply as she nestled into her warm bed, her covers pulled tight around herself and her head resting against her soft pillows. She was tired, worn, and quite sore too. But, she knew by now that a day of fighting off evil villains does that to you.

Everyone in the castle was asleep in their respective rooms, except the guards on nightshift and herself. It seemed that whenever she closed her eyes, all of the other outcomes were thrown at her, what could have happened if she made one mistake, one trip, one fall, one-

“Princess?”

Startled, Sofia jumped a little bit in her bed, but she calmed as she recognised the voice as her mentor. It was only Mr Cedric. Mr Cedric was good.

With a soft smile, she turned to see Cedric by her door. He looked a bit worried.

“I didn't mean to startle you, dear. I apologise.”

“It’s alright,” Sofia sat up on her bed, placing her hands in her lap. Her mind was quieter now that Cedric was here, perhaps laying in her bed staring off into space wasn’t the best way to quiet her thoughts. “Do you need something, Mr Cedric? I’ll help you out in your workshop if you want?”

“Oh, I’d never ask of you so late, princess. Especially not after such a dreadful day,” Cedric said as he opened the door some more. “May I come in?”

“Mhm.”

Cedric closed the door behind him, sitting down on her plush bed. He was careful to avoid sitting on her legs, she was likely in enough pain already. “I only wanted to see how you're feeling, I’m sure today was quite a lot for you.”

Sofia let out a breathy laugh, nodding as she began to fiddle with her fingers. ”That’s one way to put it,” she smiled weakly at him. “Are you alright, my dear? You look pale.” Cedric reached out to put a hand to her cheek, quickly pulling back as he saw her flinch away from his touch. “Princess?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sofia acted as though she hadn’t flinched at all, still smiling softly. “Are you sure about that, poppet?” Cedric had never seen Sofia flinch around him, not even when he’d been standing by her throne, his wand pointed at her in a false threat to freeze her. In her eyes, he’d never been a man to be scared of, he might have even been inviting, despite coming off as the opposite to others. Like he was the big monster in the forest all of the kids told ghost stories of around campfires, painting him as cruel, inescapable death, Sofia being the young girl who’d run into the forest to prove he wasn’t as mean as they were told, coming back with stories about how kind and friendly he was to her, oblivious to the fact that the monster loved her so much because she was the first to give him respect.

“No..” Sofia mumbled, now looking down at her hands in her lap. “I wanna sleep and forget about it but…I can’t. Whenever I try I just start thinking of all these things and…they aren’t nice things…” Cedric nodded in understanding, reaching to take one of her small hands in his. “I understand, dear. Does it feel like there’s a voice in your head other than your own?”

“Mhm, but it sounds like me…and it feels like me, but I can’t control it…Do you think it could be magic?” Cedric shook his head. He almost smiled at her innocence, but this wasn't the time. “It’s just how our minds work sometimes, love. It isn’t nice, but there isn’t much we can do about it. Most we can do is distract ourselves until it goes away and our minds become our own again,” he squeezed her hand reassuringly as she sighed. He knew Sofia wasn’t exactly used to these things, she was always the one to take control and do something, it saddened him a bit, she was so young and taking on so much responsibility, at this age she should be letting the adults handle all of the big things, but she insisted on being on the front lines. She was always thinking of something that could rectify a troublesome situation, now she had no choice but to let the situation run its course.

“Would you like to go on a walk with me, dear?”

Sofia looked outside her window, finding it was pouring out. “Um,” she began, looking back to him. “Not that kind of walk, silly,” Cedric teased, gently bopping her on the head, however, she didn’t flinch this time around. That was good. “Walking around the castle is one of the best distractions for me when my thoughts aren’t being very kind.”

“I’d love to,” Sofia pulled her covers off and swung her legs over her bed, slipping on her slippers. She giggled quietly as Cedric stood up and offered his hand in a mock bow. She usually didn’t like it when people did that for her, but Mr Cedric made it feel playful instead of forced. She loved that about him. He never treated her like a princess, like she was above him. She didn’t like being made to feel above people, it made her feel mean inside. He treated her like what she was, a young girl who just so happened to have the word “princess” before her name.

~

Cedric’s heels clicked quietly against the cold castle floors, contrasting with the soft patter of Sofia’s slippers. She’d grown to be comforted by that sound, it meant Cedric was near; she felt safe when he was near. “I know Baileywick says he wants you in bed by 9, but I’m sure he’ll make an exception this one time,” Cedric said, hands folded neatly in front of himself as he walked with Sofia by his side. “And do let me know if you get tired, princess. I’d hate to keep you up.”

“Thank you. I don’t know why I can’t sleep,” Sofia whined slightly, beginning to admire the paintings she passed.

“Well, you know when you have nightmares, you feel scared when you wake up, even though the dream is over?” Sofia nodded with a hum, turning to stare up at his tall figure. “It’s like that. Of course, you know everything is well and there’s nothing to be scared of, but the aftershock is still there.”

Sofia listened intently to his words. He always gave the best reassurance. With his soothing voice, he could make anything sound comforting. “That makes sense. I just can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if I didn’t defeat Samara…What would have happened to Mom? And James and Amber? And you and Baileywick and...” Sofia wrapped her arms around herself in a hug, staring down at her feet. “I’ve never had these thoughts before. It would all be my fault…”

Cedric couldn’t help a scoff. Her fault? Who in their right mind would blame a little girl for not single-handedly saving an entire nation? He’d like to have some serious words with that person. “It would be the fault of the sod who decided to attack in the first place,” Cedric crossed his arms, a scowl on his lips. He softened when he looked beside him and saw the somber expression on Sofia’s face.

“But, the point is you did win. The kingdom and everyone in it is safe,” Cedric guided Sofia over to one of the large windows, gesturing to the kingdom. They were on one of the higher floors, so quite a lot was visible. “Everyone is at home and in their beds, no one was harmed, we can continue our lives knowing that we’re safe,” he turned to Sofia, “and that our princess saved us all.”

Sofia blushed instantly, but continued to look outside, looking over to the village where her friends were likely asleep in their beds. The kingdom looked so peaceful at night, so quiet and dark. Cedric’s hand rested on her shoulder, even that small touch was comforting for her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against him.

“We can’t dwell on what could have happened, my dear. It’s over and done with, absolutely nothing will be changed by stressing ourselves,” Cedric held his hands to her small back, holding her tightly. It made him feel sick inside to see Sofia in such a bad mood, like he’d do anything to take that feeling from her. Even at his own expense. “You’re really smart. Mr Cedric,” Sofia looked up at him with admiration in her eyes.

“I could say the same for you, my dear girl.” If his arms weren’t around her, Cedric would have tapped her cute little button nose. But, truly, Sofia’s intelligence was remarkable, especially for someone so young, her brilliant mind was how she managed to save the kingdom so many times. With all of the adults she’s outsmarted, she might even be the smartest child in the Everrealm. He couldn’t imagine what her mind will become once she’s a grown-up.

“It’s all going to be okay, Sofia. And you know I’ll always be here if you need me,” Cedric stroked Sofia’s hair with a gloved hand, retaining a certain gentleness reserved for her and Calista. He made it a point to be there for Sofia, to tend to her and give her the attention she needed. He feared that if he didn’t, no one else would. Baileywick was always busy keeping everything in order, Miranda often had Queenly things to attend to, and Roland was positively useless.

“I don’t care how old you become, how big or small you feel your troubles are, how late at night or how early in the morning, my door is always open for you, Darling.”

“You’re the best mentor I could ever hope for, Mr Cedric,” Sofia hugged Cedric tightly, all of those painful thoughts and fears long forgotten, perhaps it was his distraction and calming words, or just being in his arms. She felt his hand in her hair, gently combing through it with thin fingers, smoothing out some of the tussels from turning side to side in her bed.

Cedric smiled as he watched Sofia’s eyelids droop. There we go. “Shall we get you back to bed, dear?” he asked, letting her nuzzle her face in his robe. Sofia nodded, reluctantly separating from him.

~

“Is it bad I still don’t know half of the castle yet?” Sofia asked sleepily as they walked through the halls back to her bedroom, Cedric’s hand linked with hers. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it, dear. I’ve lived here all my life and even I get lost trying to find the dining room,” Cedric assured with a light chuckle. “I thought I’d have to flag down Bailywick when finding your room.”

Sofia giggled at him. He rarely went to her room, so it made sense he’d have some trouble finding the way. The last time he’d been there was when she’d gotten sick and he brought a medicinal potion to make her feel better. “I’m glad you found me eventually.”

“I’ll make a map next time around,” Cedric bantered as they reached her bedroom. “Here we are,” he opened her door for her, letting her go first.

“Into bed you go, my dear,” Cedric said as Sofia lazily crawled into her bed, practically flopping down against her mattress. His poor dear was exhausted, he was surprised she didn't go out like a light the first time around. He truly believed it wasn't fair how much they made this young girl do. Why must she clean up the messes of all the adults around her?

Sitting up, Sofia smiled meekly at him, as though she were nervous. “Mr Cedric…can you tuck me in?” she asked with the sweetest, most gentle voice Cedric thought he'd ever heard. How could he say no?

“Of course, poppet.”

Cedric sat down on her bed as she got under her covers. Even with all of her responsibilities, she was still a little girl at heart. “If you still can't fall asleep I have some potions that will help. You know where to find me,” he informed her, draping her comforter over her. He took his time tucking her in, making sure she was comfortable, pushing her covers into her sides and giving some more assurance.

“Don’t worry about the rest of the world, my dear. Everyone is alright, and you need your rest,” he twirled one of her brunette curls around his finger, careful not to knot it up. He let it go to instead push some of her hair out of her face, and Sofia closed her eyes involuntarily.

“You know where to go if you need me, my love,” Cedric pressed a kiss to Sofia's forehead, then let go of her hair. “Good night, Sofia.”

“Good night, Mr Cedric….”

~

Just as I promised, the father daughter hurt/comfort fic is here!

[formula1fanfiction]

Charles Leclerc/Lewis Hamilton

Title: Sexual tension

Pairing: Charles Leclerc/Lewis Hamilton

Characters: Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Pierre Gasly 

Prompt: After the disqualified from the race Leclerc and Hamilton hang out the get rid of disappointment, but it didn’t work, so Leclerc decided to use Hamilton till the control his temper and cheer up. Top Leclerc.

"This is the most depressing party, I have ever attended." Charles shots whatever the fuck it was in his glass. He keeps drinking, drink after drink he's getting drunker but the feeling of disappointment, won't fuck off.

"Why are you so angry? You only finished 6th anyway, I was second." Lewis is stone cold sober and looks deep into Charles' eyes while speaking. He doesn't even raise his voice but it sends shivers down Charles' spine. "Why are you not, angry?"

Lewis laughs. "I'm am Charles, that would have practically scored us second in the constructors but instead i'm at a pity party with said rival, who clearly needs to release some sexual tension."

Wait, what? Charles chokes on tequila, he had just been chugging. "What do you mean by that?" Lewis looks him up and down with an eyebrow raised. "You don't fuck people do you?"

That's just rude, Charles does fuck people thank you very much. He was with Pierre only two days ago actually. He's about to tell Lewis this, when the Brit smirks, it's like he can read Charles' thoughts. "Bottoming every time doesn't count."

"But I am a bottom?" Lewis takes another sip of his water, his eyes still not leaving Charles'. "I get Charles, being a bottom is good fun, I like it too, sometimes but bottoming every time doesn't help with the sexual frustration."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Lewis every slowly drains his glass before speaking again. "Sorry I thought I was clearer, you need to let out your sexual frustration and I said I like bottoming."

"You're letting me top?" Charles drains the remainder of drink. "Scratch that, you're letting me fuck you." Lewis doesn't say anything, just stands up, taking Charles by the hand and pulling him outside into a near a taxi. Charles has to keep his legs crossed the entire taxi journey to keep his embarrassing boner at bay.

Charles only starts to feel nervous once they get back to Lewis' hotel room. The Brit lays himself out on the bed, fully clothed apart from his shirt, which he had neatly folded over a nearby chair. Charles just stands there staring, is he supposed to just go all out or what?

"What are you waiting for Charles, Christmas?" Right. Still very confused and nervous Charles climbs up onto the bed and sits down besides Lewis.

"This is free use Charles, do what you want. Go wild." Charles takes a deep breath and straddles Lewis' waist. This should be easy, just do exactly what Charles would like to receive in this situation.

Charles leans forward and peppers little kisses against Lewis' neck, until he gets to the sensitive parts and sucks little marks onto his skin. He keeps going, covering every inch, enjoying the small little moan he gets from Lewis in response.

"Use these." Lewis reaches over and takes two pairs of handcuffs from the nightstand. Charles weighs them up, the standard sex kind, pink and fluffy. Why does Lewis even have these? That being said, it doesn't stop Charles' securing both his wrists to the headboard.

"Now you're all mine, and I can do whatever I want." Charles can't keep the smile off his face, from his joke. He rubs his ass against Lewis' hardening cock, he'd love to feel it inside of him, filling him up.

"That's exactly what you are supposed to do Charles, now stop being a tease and get on with it." Oooh Lewis is losing his composure already.

It's only now Charles has fully settled into his dominant roll that he realises, they are both fully clothed other than Lewis' shirt. "You're so hot Lewis, I feel so privileged to get this opportunity." Lewis can't help but giggle. "It's funny George said the same thing."

Charles wastes no time getting stuck in and licks a stripe from Lewis' chest, down to his belly button. The back up to where his nipples are. Lewis whines as Charles sucks a nipple into his mouth and gently bites the sensitive little nub.  

"Come on man, I didn't expect you to be such tease." Charles giggles and finds his most dominant voice. "You are so impatient Lewis, good things come to those who wait."

Lewis rolls his eyes and just watches as Charles squats over Lewis' legs, then digs his fingers into the waist band of his own jeans and boxer shorts and slowly lowers them . The angle is awkward but he successfully manages to take them off and toss them into a pile on the floor.

Charles' embarrassing and very hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, very happy to be freed from its cotton prison. His tip is already glistening with pre cum.

"Is there anything you don't want to do, Lewis?"Charles takes his hard cock into his hand and gives it a few light strokes, just to take the edge off a little bit, but quickly forces himself to stop.

"Stop over thinking this, do what the fuck you want Charles. This is free use. I'll tell you if I want to stop."

 Charles position's himself over Lewis' face, with one foot over either side of the Brits head and nudges the head of his cock against Lewis' lips. Charles is adamant on teasing a little bit longer and runs the head of his cock against Lewis lips, leaving a trail of pre cum which Lewis eagerly licks away.

"Be a good boy Lewis." Charles mocks as he slowly slides his cock inside Lewis' parted lips and doesn't stop until the tip of his cock presses up against Lewis throat. The older man doesn't even flinch, gag reflex? Apparently not.

Charles decides to just get on with it, he's only teasing himself at this point and pulls back, just enough to leave the head of his cock inside of Lewis mouth. The older one has clearly had enough at this point because he sucks eagerly on the Charles cock and dips his tongue into the slit, collecting the salty pre-cum. Charles moans happily, his head falling back but he soon recovers. "If you keep doing that, I won't get to fuck your ass."

"We can't have that can we?" Lewis opens his mouth and Charles' cock slips out.

"I think, I would prefer to do you doggy style." Charles announces as he loosens the cuffs, Lewis rolls over and pushes his high into the air, only then does Charles reattach them. It must be uncomfortable but Lewis doesn't complain.

The attention now turns to Lewis' pants, Charles digs his fingers into the waist band and roughly pulls them down along with his boxers. Lewis' ass is a glorious sight and Charles feels extremely lucky that he's able to get a piece of it.  Lewis spreads his legs as wide as he can, giving Charles the perfect view of his hole.

"Come on Charles, this is torture at this point." Lewis growls, pulling on his restraints in the process, the metal clatters against the headboard. "You asked for this Lewis, to be tied up." Charles gently runs his finger down Lewis' crack. "I thought you were going to be more like George, not a fucking tease."

"There's lube on the night stand." Lewis points with his head, Charles wastes no time grabbing the bottle and ours a generous amount onto his fingers. Charles singles Lewis' entrance with the single digit, then gently sinks inside, Lewis is tight, it's obvious he doesn't bottom too often.  

Lewis soon opens up around the finger and Charles is able to start thrusting, the slippery aid of lube makes the slide easy and soon he's able to push a second finger inside.  

"I'm ready for more Charles, come on." Charles works his way up to three finger and easily has them slamming in and out him. Lewis withers against the bed sheets moaning and crying out just for Charles to get on with it.

"What's wrong Lewis? Do you need my dick inside of you that badly." Lewis pulls on his restraints in anger once again. "Yes Charles, just fuck me already." Lewis starts off confidently but it soon turns into a squeak once Charles finds his prostate and keeps slamming into the little bundle of nerves.

Charles finally takes pity on the older man and finally lets his fingers slip out. "You're finally going to get what you want." Charles takes his own cock into his hand, giving it a few light strokes then nudging himself against Lewis' glistening hole.

"I'm going to fuck you now." Charles announces calmly as he sinks inside. He slides in slowly about half way, then slams home in quick thrust. Charles can't help moaning, Lewis feels warm and tight clenching around his cock.

"You're so tight Lewis, fuck. I thought you would be, I bet you don't let many people fuck you." Charles pulls back and slowly thrust forward again, continuing with his teasing for a few short seconds then roughly pulls all the way out, only to slam back inside him again, his balls slapping against Lewis' ass in the process.  

Charles sets a steady rhythm, his finger tips holding Lewis hips in a vice like grip. It's hard and its deep, he's not able to move as quickly as he can despite how tight Lewis is around him. It must still feel good though, judging by all the moans falling from Lewis lips.

Charles angles his thrusts to find Lewis prostate and thrusts into it with every move. Lewis growls and arches his back, pushing back to get as much pleasure from him it as possible. With every thrust Lewis opens up a little more and the harder Charles is able to go.  

It feels amazing for Charles too and he himself won't be able to hold on for much longer, so he speeds up his thrusts, slamming into Lewis with all his might, battering his prostate with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echo's around the room.

Charles takes pity on the older man and wraps his fist around Lewis; leaking cock and strokes him to the same pace as his thrusts. Lewis falls apart pretty quickly after that, a mixture of a moan and a scream as he comes spurting his seed over Charles' fist.

Lewis feels amazing, he's tightened during his orgasm and it practically rips Charles' own orgasm from him. He manages three more brutal thrusts before he's coming hard and spurting his load inside of Lewis.  

"So Charles, how did that feel for you?" Lewis asks while Charles reaches up and unclips both sets off handcuffs and settles down besides Lewis on the bed. "Good, lighter actually." Lewis nods. "Good, that's how it's supposed to feel."

"As fun as it was, I think I still prefer to be bottom." Lewis laugh catches him off guard. "What?"

"Funny, George said exactly the same thing." Lewis has been talking about George all night and it's only just hit Charles, he did this with George too. Does Lewis just walk around the paddock reliving everyone of sexual frustration or what?

"Well, have you noticed George hasn't been walking around with a stick up his arse for a while, now it will be the same for you."

[askthatoneanacondraikaiguy]

Do you have any headcanon about Kai?

I'm assuming you mean the show version of Kai and not Permanent Anacondrai Kai. And honestly not a whole lot of solid ones rn, but I do have enough to share here;

He definitely likes spice. That boy loves it when his food is spicy.

A little bit of projection; Kai is not good at emotional regulation when he's younger. Idk if I HC him with ADHD (which is what I have and is the biggest cause of my emotional disregulation) but the stuff he went through when he was young and the fact he wasn't really taught how to regulate his emotions would've resulted in that.

Wu giving him the opportunity to express his anger and other feelings in physical training was the healthiest outlet Kai had really ever been shown by someone else when he was young. Living with Zane and Cole also definitely helped.

I like the idea that Kai and Nya were supported by the village they grew up in. A lot of people like the headcanons that Kai had to work really hard to keep him and Nya housed and fed. While I do like those HCs, I personally like the idea that the village kind of collectively helped out, bringing the children meals or babysitting/teaching the kids. They probably didn't worry too hard about Kai and Nya covering the costs to keep their parents' shop or house around.

In my HC, Maya and Ray were important members of the community and their disappearance was concerning and upsetting. They were elemental masters and war heroes. They provided the village a sense of security just by being there along with providing weaponry. With them gone so suddenly and without explanation, that sense of security was gone.

There was a period where the entire village was waiting for them to come back somehow. None of them wanted to tell Kai and Nya their parents were never coming back. But Kai figured that out on his own as he grew older. Once Kai was old enough to do chore work but not man his dad's shop, the villagers would've offered to pay him for that, because Kai would've begun to feel like he needed to 'grow up' and be responsible. I personally follow my friend's HC that Kai was around 14 or 15 (Nya being around 12-13 and Jay being about 13; youngest of the Ninja before Lloyd) at the time of the pilots. He definitely worked really hard before becoming a ninja but I don't think he had, like, five jobs at the time to support them both. He likely did odd jobs around the village and then the blacksmith shop once he was tall enough to use the forge.

Kai didn't make as many friends in the village as he probably would have otherwise, because between the abandonment anxiety and grief that came from losing his parents so suddenly, taking care of his sister, and also being just generally more stand-offish because everyone treats him differently (not cruelly; just differently, and kids are very good at noticing those things), he just had a hard time developing new relationships on his own. Especially in the shadow left behind by his parents' disappearance.

He wanted Nya to enjoy being a kid and that meant he wasn't super willing to let her help him in the more dangerous part of the shop, which definitely annoyed her. Kai was well-meaning there, but he didn't exactly convey that super well to Nya all the time cause he was a young teenager and she was a 12 year old who wanted to be seen as just as capable as her older brother.

The above bit is definitely inspired by that one exchange in the pilot; "I can handle this myself!" "No, you can't, stupid!"

I have a little brother who's 14, but in my brain he's still 12, and I definitely HC that Kai sorta sees Nya the same way. Not that she's incapable, just that she's also baby and it's his responsibility to provide helpful life advice to her, which is kinda funny when she has shit more figured out than he does.

[gwenbrightly]

(Re)Building the Future Chapter 1

A mixture of ideas I’ve had rolling around in my brain since Ruin came out. Please enjoy.

 "I'm so sorry…"

"I love carrot cake. Happy birthday, Cassie…"

There's a click accompanied by sobbing, and then……. Nothing… 

…….. 

………. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

"Reboot complete."

Roxy regains awareness with a groan. What happened?

She tries to sit up, but something heavy is pressing down on her. Great. Just great. It feels like one of those vehicles humans use to get around the Pizza Plex. Inferior to her golf carts, of course, but also dreadfully inconvenient to be trapped under. And Roxy would know. This isn't the first time one has fallen on her since she lost her eyes to that stupid boy, Gregory. That horrible awful loser. How she'd like to get her claws on him… 

"Roxyyy" 

Roxy tries to ignore the obnoxious voice in her head. Plotting revenge is much more appealing right now than dealing with Helpy. Unfortunately, Helpy doesn't seem to feel the same way. 

"ROXANNE WOLF!" He blasts. If she were human, the volume would probably be painful. 

"What? I'm a little busy here." Roxy finally replies, giving the vehicle another shove to prove her point. 

"You're needed down below. That silly girl showed up out of nowhere and I… May have shown her how to deactivate all of M.X.E.S's security nodes. There's nothing keeping It from getting out now!" 

"Oh, Fizzy Faz. Why would you give a child that kind of power?" Roxy really wishes cursing wasn't against her programming. 

Helpy is right (for once). This is very bad. 

"I’ve been feeling a little glitchy today, okay? Anyway," Helpy says, clearly avoiding responsibility for his mistakes, "we've got a HUGE problem, so get down there and do something."

"What exactly do you want me to do? Beat it in a race?" Roxy asks, finally managing to dislodge her good leg. 

"Beating It is an option. Just not in a race. Don't worry - I'll be here to guide you, since, you know, you can't see! I'll be like your seeing eye bear!" Helpy says enthusiastically. 

Roxy sighs. Normally, she hates spending time with Helpy. He's an annoying little digital know it all who doesn't know how to shut up. (and he did just insult her). But without her eyes, she doesn't really have a choice. Her Number 1 Twice is somewhere down below and has no idea what she's unleashed. She has to save Cassie. And taking It down is also important, she supposes. 

Roxy is built for speed and agility. The next few minutes pass in a blur. Down the stairs - she loses track of how many flights. The elevator has already left. She takes another route. One covered with debris she must navigate. (If Helpy is leading her to her death, she'll kill him first). There are places she has to tunnel through planks and concrete rubble to make her way. But she does it. It's damp. She can hear water nearby and the ground makes a squishy noise when she steps in certain places. "Oh hey! There's an underground waterfall over there!" Helpy informs her at one point. 

"Focus, Helpy. We're not here to sight see." Roxy reminds him. 

"Riiiiight. Well, we're getting close. I think. Just through this door and down a few more flights of stairs!"

As she treks down stairs and through the halls of a structure she didn't even know existed until just now, Helpy continues to give her, well, 'helpful' suggestions. 

"There's an automatic door exactly 2.345 feet to your right."

"No! Not that door!" 

"Be sure to watch out for the burners on the floor in here!"

This particular piece of advice confuses Roxy to no end. "Why the Faz are there burners on the floor? Do you know how many safety regulations that violates?!" 

"Don't ask me. I just work here. Digitally, of course."

After the weird burner rooms, and another round of stairs, Roxy suddenly runs out of floor. Without thinking, without waiting for Helpy to confirm that it is safe, she jumps. Luckily, the space beneath her is not very deep. Rolling into a stand with both legs more or less intact, she scrambles around until she finds a small hole in the wall. As she crawls through, she hears a small voice in the distance say, "You're not Gregory."

Cassie is close. She can feel it. 

-~-~-~

The thing Fazbear Entertainment keeps trapped beneath the Pizza Plex doesn’t go down without a fight. Neither does Roxy. Unfortunately, she isn't able to hold it off for long before it's able to shove her aside and continue after Cassie. To make matters worse, Helpy is giving her conflicting directions, leading her in circles. It is probably interfering somehow. She's on her own if she wants to get anywhere with this. She stalks forward, listening carefully. A faint creaking, scaping sound catches her attention. Then a whimper. 

Roxy dashes to her right. Right again. Forward. In the distance, the elevator doors slide shut with a grinding crunch. It struggles for a moment, seemingly caught in the door. This gives Roxy just enough time to pull the creature into a choke hold. 

"Leave her alone!" she growls at It. 

"But she came to rescue me!" It protests in a voice that sounds a little too much like Gregory. 

Whatever actually prompted Cassie to come down here, Roxy is pretty sure the kid didn't come to save It on purpose. Cassie is smarter than that. 

"You tried to kill her!" Roxy shrieks in anger. It struggles against her. She refuses to let go. With a little luck, the elevator will finish its journey soon and Cassie will be safely back at the surface in no time. 

Luck, however, is a fickle thing. Rarely do things turn out as luckily as we would prefer. Roxy knows this. She's never relied on luck to win races or make crying children smile. Deep down, she knows she can't always win (though she still tries to, often at the detriment of others). But that doesn't make it any less horrifying when the elevator begins to plummet instead of going up. When she hears Cassie's panicked screams. Or the shattering crash of the elevator splitting apart at the bottom of the shaft. 

"No…" Roxy nearly lets go of It in her panic.  

"Now she can stay forever," It says gleefully, once again mimicking Gregory's voice. 

"One more word and I'll tear your head off," Roxy threatens. She drags It away from the elevator. 

"Lock It up!" Helpy screeches. "Lock It up!" 

"Where?" Roxy asks reluctantly. She doesn't want to leave the elevator's ruins. Cassie is in there somewhere. 

"M.X.E.S wants you to put It in one of the extra containment rooms to your left," Helpy starts, "No one is safe until you've done that."

As much as she hates to admit it, the annoying little bear is right. If Cassie is still alive, leaving It to roam free will put her in danger. 

"Okay. Let's do this," she finally agrees. Hoping Helpy's instructions ring true this time, Roxy lets him guide her to It's new containment cell. Her threats seem to have worked; the creature doesn't fight her as hard as she knows it could. She shoves the thing into the room and grabs the sliding door, ready to shut It away forever, but she thinks better of it. 

"I'll be taking these," Roxy says. Then she reaches for It's face and yanks on the eye receptacles. They give way with a pop. She haphazardly connects the wires to her own eye sockets, blinking as the world flickers into focus for the first time in a long time. 

"My eyes!" It complains. "You took them!"

[nochd]

Naturism as social justice

← Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Part 4: Disability (neurodivergence)

This is where the issue touches me personally. I am autistic, and among other things that means I have sensitivities that other people don't. I feel food moving around inside me, I need more anaesthetic than dentists expect, and I have what's called "tactile defensiveness", where light touches to my skin are irritating and uncomfortable. And that includes clothing. All clothing, with the sole exception of hats.

The problem is mild (but never zero) when it's cool; in the winter, I prefer clothes to the cold. When it gets warmer and I start sweating, the discomfort gets very bad very quickly.

This means I can't stand exercising with clothes on. I know perfectly well what not exercising does to my life expectancy and general health, but the feeling is unbearable.

How bad could it be, you ask? Imagine everything you're wearing next to the skin is made of sewn-together burlap sacks, and you're trapped in a slow-cooker.

Notwithstanding the origin of the word "gymnasium", I doubt that nudity is going to fly in any gym in town for more than about thirty seconds. Any physiotherapist would suggest swimming as a solution; trouble is, wet swimming-togs are worst of all. They cross the pain threshold. They feel like knives.

There's a Catch-22 for neurodivergent people when it comes to talking about sensitivities. If you do it often, you're just a whiner and your complaints are dismissed. If you don't do it often, well, it can't be that bad if you didn't say anything before, can it? -- and your complaints are dismissed.

The trick is to find the middle ground where your complaints are dismissed for both reasons at once.

I have exactly two options for dealing with this sensitivity, which are (1) naturism, and (2) shut up complaining about it no-one cares.

As far as what good it does me, any proposed solution which does not allow me to practise naturism amounts to "shut up complaining about it no-one cares." I'm sure people mean well when they express their sympathy, but it's exactly as much help to me as "shut up complaining about it no-one cares."

(Which doesn't mean I think any the worse of you, if that's your primary concern. "Shut up complaining about it no-one cares" is society's default response to autistic sensory issues. At least it's better than "I'm going to trigger you on purpose to teach you not to be a pussy.")

There's this one particular beach in my home town that I go to for nude walks. (There was a time when I was in a naturist walking group, but that's long past now.) It's not an official nude beach because New Zealand doesn't have any because technically there is no law specifically banning public nudity for them to be exceptions to.

What there is is a law against "offensive behaviour", and where and when nudity counts as "offensive behaviour" is complicatedly context-dependent.

(There's also a law, with more serious penalties, against "indecent exposure", but public nudity alone hasn't been the legal definition of "indecent exposure" in New Zealand for over forty years. Since 1981 it must also be "obscene", i.e. done to harass people. Surprisingly few people know that.)

There are thirty years of legal precedent saying beach nudity is not offensive behaviour -- on a beach where it's common practice or can be expected to occur.

This is one of those. Currently. Occasionally. It's had quite a few naturist visitors while I've been going there, but no regulars except me.

Most people ignore me; some are friendly; there have been a handful that were hostile. There's been one particular guy, recently, who kept hanging around where I was. I don't mean like chilling on the beach, I mean he kept kind of walking around and walking past me, making sure I knew he was there.

I came back after my beach walk to my stash of stuff to find the messages "No nudists!" and "Cover up cunt" written in the sand nearby.

(I wrote a reply saying "See you in court: Police v. Ceramalus 1991", referring to the court case that proved nudity on a beach is not an offence in New Zealand. But, well, I wasn't getting the vibe that he was threatening legal action.)

There is no other beach that is both clothing-optional by established custom and within reach of public transport from where I live. And I take care to go during school hours so I don't run into kids. And I stay out of people's way and, apart from my walk, I try and stay at the less-populated end where you get about one passer-by per hour on a weekday. And that's apparently not good enough.

Yes, I know. This world has other people in it besides me. I can't ask society to rearrange itself for my sake. I can't expect an entire culture to suddenly overturn all the associations and meanings it puts on the human body, all in a day.

Naturist organizations have to vet new people very carefully to make sure they're not going to behave inappropriately, which just goes to show society at large isn't ready to turn naturist just yet.

All of that is true and none of it is unreasonable. But the consequence of all this reasonableness is that my needs as a neurodivergent person will always come last.

[noblevicartstudio08]

Okay. So. Was thinking of a way to fix "Love never dies," cause as it is, It sucks ass. For starters, we need to add a few things so that in the context of the original Phantom of The Opera, Love Never Dies should've never really happened. However, I think I've come up with a few ideas that could fix up the story and make LND make just a little bit more sense.

For starters, if you're gonna make Raoul villiainous, and make The Phantom the main love interest, give hints in the original play. In Phantom of The Opera, Raoul is still a spoiled rich boy, but he is still kind, loving, and cares for Christine so much that he is willing to risk his life for her. Home boy loved her through and through and it makes no sense for him to have this heel turn for literally no fucking reason. However, in the book, he was more whiny, entitled, and selfish, so if you implement more of those traits in the original Phantom of The Opera, then not only do you give Raoul more character but Love Never Dies makes more sense. Plus it gives that added tragic factor where Christine chooses Raoul over the Phantom in the end. So that would be the first thing I would do. Make Raoul a legit villainous character that wins in the end because The Phantom can't keep her. Hell, for added flavor, make Raoul responsible for some of the murders and pin it on The Phantom! That will also contribute to Raoul basking in his role as "The brave hero that slayed The Wicked Phantom and saved his childhood sweetheart."

Okay. Now onto The actual events of Love Never Dies.

I feel like Erik would take whatever riches he could and flee to America after the events of "Phantom of The Opera." He would become an anonymous poet, composer, and even an opera singer himself. His talents get him recognized in a smaller theatre on Coney Island where he thinks he can start his life anew. I think that Meg and Girys would still help him escape as they might have sympathy for him. Meg is a kind and gentle soul that Love Never Dies does DIRTY. So if she is going to have a new role, it's a support system for Erik. They help him craft a new identity and start a new life to cope with his heartbreak.

10 years later, Raoul, Christine, and Guastave move to Coney Island, with little Guastave wearing a mask that covers his entire face and his father giving him a dirty look. Yup. Raoul has a similar deformity to The Phantom when he was born and Raoul is not happy. He constantly accused Christine of going behind his back and, "whoring herself off to that hellspawn." When, no. No, it was sheer coincidence, or the gods above not giving poor Christine a break. At least The poor boy has his ever-loving mother to comfort and raise him while his father is getting drunk and gambling their money away. Things get so bad, that Gustave starts singing on the streets for cash as a street performer at night. Meg catches wind of Christine's financial situation and how Raoul has been treating her, so she gets a plan. She invites Christine to perform at the same theatre she's performing at along with her "new friend and colleague," Simon Rose. Upon meeting "Simon" she knows exactly who he is, but she keeps it to herself, but stays professional for her family's sake… and his. Simon does the same. However, upon seeing the love of his life again, he starts to spiral. He threatens to fall back into his old ways, and Raoul grows more and more suspicious with each passing day.

One night, Simon is walking the streets alone at night, when he sees Gustave performing for a few coins so the poor boy can buy groceries. Simon, feeling pity for the child as he was in the same position once, gives Gustave pretty much all the money in his wallet. Not only that, he takes the boy to a nearby park to perform a small song together on the park piano. Feeling comfortable with the child, he removes his mask showing the child his true face. Gustave is delighted and takes his off. Erik is the first person that's just like him. They share a tender bonding moment that has Gustave wishing Erik was his father instead of Raoul.

Alright. Alright. Because I am a slut for "Devil takes the hindmost" & "Devil takes the hindmost Quartet," I found a way to work into this version. After getting Gustave home safely, Erik is outraged at Raoul. Here is his poor son, begging strangers for money, while he's becoming a stinking drunk that practically burns through what little money they have. Erik confronts Raoul at the bar he's drinking at and the wadger is on. During Christine's next performance, if she doesn't sing, Raoul wins. He gets Christone, his family, and all the money to fill his pockets and pay off his gambling debt. If she does sing, Raoul leaves alone. Forever. The devil takes the hindmost. However, Raoul panics and tries to bring back that pretty boy charm to win Christine back. Something of note here. In "Before The Performance," The Phantom puts a diamond necklace on Christine. While it may appear to be a romantic gesture, similar movies like Moulin Rouge and Titanic portray this as an act of control and obsession for our female heroine. Like a diamond encrust collar or leash of sorts to tie them forever in a golden cage. I think this kind of thing would be better if it was Raoul putting the diamond necklace on Christine, using the last of his money in a last-ditch effort to secure his love before the show. It would also be more thematic if Erik came to her and took the necklace off her as he sings about her setting the music in her free. As for Devil takes the hindmost Quartet, Girys' lines would have to be changed, but you're gonna have to that. Just because I'm the firstborn of a lyricist doesn't mean I am one folk.

Christine chooses to sing. And love never dies can have a few meanings here. Not just love for Eric. But love for Gustave, Meg, herself, and The art of performing. Christine had to give up all of that except for Gustave after she married Raoul, but she takes back her life and choose her happiness for once instead of the happiness of others. After the performance, Erik runs up to her backstage and gives her a Hollywood-worthy kiss, dip, and all. They then give their short reprise version of "All I ask of you," but there's one problem… Where's Gustave? Erik and Christine panic, when Meg states she saw Raoul run off with Gustave towards the pier. Christine, Erik, Meg, and Girys all rush off to find Raoul and the poor child before something tragic happens.

Meanwhile, at the pier, Raoul debates whether to shoot little Gustave or drown in the ocean with him, all while the poor child is sobbing and pleading for his life. Erik and company show up just in time, but Raoul holds a gun to all of them, threatening to kill Gustave if they get any closer. It's there that Raoul hashes out all of his grievances, his insecurities, and his hatred towards Gustave. All he can see is "That Damned Hellspan," even though that's 100% biologically his son, he just has a similar deformity to Erik. Erik uses his skill to lasso the gun and Gustave away from Raoul and has the cruel drunk at his mercy. He's tempted to kill him right then and there, but then looks over to Christine and Gustave. His anger quells and Erik gets a bit of character development here. Because he now knows what real love is… It's taught him so much. Romantic. Familiar. Platonic. Self-love. It has changed him forever. It has taught him patience, kindness, empathy… and mercy. Erik harshly tells Raoul to board his cruise and leave. Never return. Raoul leaves like a dog with its tail between its legs as Erik comforts his family.

Time skips to an elderly Raoul lamenting about the woman he lost, and "has died," because while he still loves Christine, she's dead to him now. (You know, mirroring the beginning sequence of the original play~?) Meanwhile, on Coney Island, Erik, Christine, and Meg sit in the opera box and listen in awe as a grown-up Gustave's voice fills the opera house with a beautiful rendition of "Think of Me."

The end! This is… by no means perfect, and could DEFIDENTLY use some tweening, but this is what I got so far. Hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it and feel free to give me some feedback!

[coffee-cait]

Hi there @tea-n-ink !

Figured it'd be easier to try and answer this as a post rather than in comments. I'll try to answer the best I can but in all honesty I'm not entirely sure how to answer this question in a way that will be satisfying or insightful. Because while I have an education in visual media and work in the field (which contributes to the studying and progress), a lot of my personal work has been (for lack of a better way to phrase it) "fucking around and finding out" for better AND for worse. A lot of how I work is both in contrast to what's required of me of my job but also based on habits built to perform that job. So I'm not confident in how much I could recommend approaching art the way I do or how applicable it will be. I can only speak to my own experience. Everyone will want to achieve and pursue different things with their art so I don't think there's going to be a specific answer of exactly what to do. I think I can only recommend some amount of framework to consider at best? I'm also not a good writer and struggle to articulate specifics especially when it comes to my creative process because it's very uh…. soupy? unstructured? But I want to make an attempt! I'm so sorry if this ends up being a rambling mess.

I haven't done studies/ brushing up on basics for a few years and I'm actively feeling the limits of how I draw because of that. So I absolutely would recommend brushing up on the fundamentals and doing studies every now and then to help prevent that kind of rut. I feel like it's something to do relatively consistently? It's like stretching and exercising a muscle to keep it in shape. However, how much and how frequent a person does that is going to be up to them based on what their lifestyle is and I feel this is more of something to consider to do long term over time rather than in short term bursts. But if you have the time to do a lot in the short term and won't impede life responsibilities then that's great! Just remember to take breaks because sometimes what you've learned and observed needs time to sink in. But also to protect your hands and physical health.

As for the "just do studies" / what studies to do, I guess a bit of a combination answer incoming? Because of the nature of my job (what is asked of me and MIGHT be asked of me), doing studies is going to be of the vague/broad variety because of how much possible ground I might need to cover. So I've done studies, sketches, looked at reference material etc. of a bunch of different things for years. A majority was outside of my comfort zone and I think it's important to try to to challenge yourself in such a way every once in a while. And definitely trying to explore many different topics (people, plants, architecture, animals, etc) will give more knowledge and possibilities of things to draw. However, it's also not very realistic to expect anyone to study everything to its minutia. I sure can't! I can try my best to draw some basic structures but I don't have enough knowledge and practice to make a convincing cityscape. And even with all the dabbling in different topics I've had to do, I still focus in more on the most likely things that's required of me or what I personally enjoy to draw on my free time. That tends to be characters. So when I do need to brush up I lean towards anatomy, musculature, human observation, that sort of thing. And I feel regardless of what anyone's style is, If you want to draw figures of any sort, practicing and revisiting that is always helpful! Also doing studies of specific things you want to improve on or things you are aware are your weakness is also an avenue I recommend. I think the last studies I did was of hands because it was something I wanted to improve on at the time. And I think it's high time I give buildings another shot.

As for style it wasn't something I actively worked on or envisioned. Rather, it was the inevitable mishmash of the aesthetic choices I liked in the artwork I enjoyed, habits I formed and not wanting to draw how I needed to during work hours. And this was a slow and gradual process over my whole life so far and it'll keep on going as long as I continue doing art. And I wouldn't consider it a linear progression either as there were many points where I backpedaled on certain choices because I didn't want to do things like that anymore and went another direction. As for how to develop and refine this actively, I can't say for sure. But what I can say is a person's style will be a love letter to the things they enjoy. Inevitably you'll be influenced by the things that speak to you and you might not realize it until years down the line. In my case, Jet Set Radio was something I played as a kid and it deeply impacted how I drew and what art I gravitated to for years before I realized how formative it was. The more you consume what you enjoy, the more it'll show in your art whether consciously or not. I suppose a potential exercise that can be done is maybe looking at several pieces of art you enjoy and trying to figure out exactly what it is about them that you like? Especially if maybe you find a common element to their styles that really speaks to you that you'd like to incorporate into your own art? While I can't say how effective this'll actually be, if I were to say, "Jet Set Radio, The World Ends With You and Dogs: Bullets & Carnage are things that had a lasting impression on me," and then you were to look at my art I think that statement would track.

But I also want to note that when I create I'M ACTUALLY VERY UNSURE OF MYSELF. I REALLY DON'T KNOW WHAT IM DOING WITH COLOURS AND I'M CONSTANTLY JUST HOPING FOR THE BEST EVERY TIME EVEN THOUGH I DID GO TO SCHOOL FOR WHAT I DO AND I SURE DO WORK HERE NOW. I rely a lot on my gut for things and end up trying over and over, sometimes fully scrapping and then unscrapping before my art gets to whatever I post online. And many things just never end up online. Sometimes things don't work out, and that's ok. And sometimes it feels like things won't work out but then they do. So don't feel discouraged when things don't work out the way you planned. I've found for myself, having a plan in my head of how i want to progress would just contribute to my already abundant anxieties so just letting things happen as they do was really helpful (outside of actual critical deadlines and professional responsibilities). There's always chances to try again and sometimes all you need is a break and to come back to what you were working on with fresh eyes.

I dunno how well this answers your question but I hope you were able to find something helpful amongst my brain soup.

[lianreine]

The Warden of Mirrors

Part 2

~The Dark Mirror~

[Welcome to the Villains' World]

You wake up in a tight space...you try to find a way out when someone opened it... its Reine and winks at you and hushed you to be quiet

You two are wearing some kind of robes....when you two enter a room with other people with robes...no one managed to notice you two enter...

"Mmmph! ME! Let ME have this student's seat!"

Reine and I are behind this guy with a crow mask as she holds my arm to keep me in place...she used telepathy to tell me this is the Headmage I tried to talk to her as well using 'Telepathy'im guessing she heard it when she nodded at me at my question "its an all boys school-...and your-"

I just nod back in response

"Not so fast, you hyperactive weasel!

"Unlike that human, I can actually use magic! So let me be a student here! Look, I'll show you! My spells're the cat's meow!"

The weasel kinda hurts my ears... it's not even human I do not know if they'll even accept this...cat...? I don't know a Red Headed Boy yelled at everyone "Everyone, get down!"

"Myaaahhh!"

Reine Pulled me back to make sure I don't get hurt...she Glares at the mirror in the middle with the face...the mirror's face goes shocked...I don't understand anything...

Then a Boy with Red Eyes cut off my train of thought yelled "AHHHHH! HELP! I'm on fire over here!"

The "Headmage" rather than helping just yells at everyone..."Someone catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school ablaze!-"

Riene tugs on the head mage's sleeve and the head mage turns around and freezes almost...

"Off with your head!"

Is all we hear...

Crowley guided Reine to the mirror as the three talked...people watch them confused...a person with lion ears shrugged when a handsome boy looked at him like he was asking "The hell is going on"

Suddenly a key summons in front of the mirror...three replicas with charm on it...I can't help but wonder, why three

"Yuu, you will be staying with Reine and Mc while we find a way to find you home...."

This yuu guy's eyes widen as he joined their conversation as eyes dart to me I pull my hood down to hid my face...

After a few minutes, it seems everyone had an agreement, I and this Yuu guy stands behind Reine by the entrance, our hoods covering our faces...Reine is a Girl and Yuu is probably embarrassed by this situation...can the head mage close this damned orientation already?

"Well, that was quite the unexpected fracas. I hereby declare that orientation has concluded. Housewardens, please escort your students back to the dorms...Hm? Come to think of it, I don't see Housewarden Draconia of House Diasomnia anywhere."

Instead of listening to this facade I just zoned out...till i hear another voice

"Ah. Just as I'd expected. I figured I'd come down and see for myself whether Malleus had made an appearance. But once again, he was evidently not informed that his presence was required at an official ceremony."

I feel kinda bad for this Malleus guy, like getting forgotten an invitation? Damn, even Reine does a small disappointed sigh. It seems the boy heard our thoughts out loud as he looked at us and smiles, suddenly glasses responded

"You have my sincerest apologies. I assure you, this oversight was in no way intended as a snub."

Still its another housewarden how could they forget like that? The read hair who did that "off with your head" line esrlier also spoke up

"I mean, you must admit, he's not exactly the easiest person to strike up a conversation with."

The new voice speaks again with a smile still eyeing me and Reine a bit...  "No matter. All who were assigned to House Diasomnia, follow me. I just hope he doesn't sulk about this"

Reine open the doors and made sure we were the first to leave it looked like she was rushing

To be Countinued

I hope you like this part 2, and any spelling or grammar mistakes i will fix on my pc! Enjoy!~

OTther parts in the Mirror Of Tales

-Reine Lian