#appreciated and its :/ like whats even the point

[rayroseu]

I really appreciate the beauty of Malleus New Year's card. But most importantly, other than its gorgeousness, I also appreciate how it pays so much homage to his status and character, from the flowers, the clothes, and the setting. 🥹

We know that wisterias were prevalent in his Dorm Groovy SSR, this time its another flower which is the red plum blossom here😭❤️

In Chinese philosophy, the Plum tree’s blossom is a symbol of winter ending and a herald of spring. The tree’s pale pink blossoms are cherished because they bloom vibrantly and so bravely amidst the winter chill. They symbolise perseverance and hope, as well as, beauty thriving in adverse circumstances.

The way this flower's meaning is so matched with Malleus' character is so precious. We know he's "the herald of spring" because his birth brought forth a hope that the Draconias(or the faes in general) won't die out just yet (the ending of winter) and the fact that this flower blooms even in winter probably symbolizes the fact that when he was an egg, he was still perservering to live. This also applies to his life as he grows up. With the way even if his life is riddled with loneliness and exclusion, he makes an effort to go out and adjust himself with others, he doesn't give up even if his reality consistently places him in situation where his goals can never be achieved (that is, him being accepted socially and him being ignorant of human culture but still makes an effort to understand it), he just continues to be hopeful that someone/ some place will invite him, therefore his ability to thrive in adverse circumstances.

The way he slowly rises in this card makes me feel like it symbolizes how slow paced Malleus is "in going out/getting used to outside of his comfort zone", actually lol. He described his admission to NRC as him being nervous because its an unknown place but still hopeful for the experiences that he might get(acccording to the vignette of his GloMas SSR), just like him here rising from the snow and the way he lifts the veil which makes me think he wants to see the world outside of his country's point of view with his own eyes.

Japanese tradition holds that the Plum (or ‘ume’) is celebrated as a protective charm against evil, so the ume is traditionally planted in the northeast of the garden, the direction from which evil is believed to come.

I also read this symbolism which makes me tear up lmaooo 😭Because we know in Book 7, Briarland was invaded from northeast where the Silver Owls originated from 💀 The fact that the plum blossom is a protection flower and he's surrounded with it in this card makes me think that it symbolizes how protected he was during Briarland's era 😭and another thing to dissect from his slow rise from the snow with the fact the plum blossom signifies protection is probably the fact that he took so long to hatch despite many people caring for him.

Side note that in Malleus Bloom Birthday Groovy, it implied that he was born in daytime during a snowfall, and he was happy experiencing the winter, just like in this New Years card where he's smiling against the heavy snowfall 🥹

In Japan, plum blossoms symbolize good fortune, an auspicious flower, along with pine and bamboo, and the arrival of early spring. They are often used as the design for New Year’s greeting cards and other celebratory occasions. (And maybe this is just the likely reason why this flower is here in Malleus' card and I'm overthinking it above lol

Next thing I want to mention is his clothes, that attire reminds me of the formal outfit of a Japanese Emperor (From what I searched, its called sokutai, but what Malleus wears is much more simpler I guess, its a outfit derived from it which is called ikan.) This post is a great overview about these two outfits.

Ikan is the work clothes of nobles and government officials in the Imperial Court after the Heian period. Sokutai is a formal costume for those from the Emperor to the court nobles in and after Heian period (Heian costume). Ikan is called 'tonoi (nighttime) costume', whereas sokutai is called 'hino (daytime) costume'. (which probably references the fact that he's a night fae)

The point is, what Malleus wears in this card is a very traditional garment that only high ranking Japanese officials can wear. But what he wears isn't the clothes of an emperor yet, but just for a high ranking official, which is accurate to his status that he's still a crown prince not yet the king, because only Maleficia truly rules Briar Valley right now.

I love the decision that they made him wear such a prestigious outfit because the story of the New Years event is the characters working on customer service lol Its like his clothes is a reminder that he is still highly distinguished even if temporarily he's a worker.

Lastly the VEIL !!!!!! That's the thing that catched my eyes the most in this card lol I KNOW they're not referencing a wedding here because the veil don't look the same, but its so good not to mention that the one of the headress of a Japanese bride is called tsunokakushi and its description can be related with Malleus a lot lol.

The term is a compound of 角 (tsuno, "horn") + 隠し (kakushi, "hiding"). This derivation is listed in some sources as a reference to hiding a bride's "horns" of anger, jealousy, or other negative qualities, in order to present a more virtuous image for the wedding. However, this interpretation might be a folk etymology resulting from a shift in the reading and meaning.

The headdress and the veil aren't the same thing but I kinda feel like this is the idea they're going for considering the veil is 1) hiding his horns, 2) he's a character associated with being jealous, and most importantly, 3) only the person he is looking at can see his face (which is the point of most wedding veils/headdress, to hide the bride's face so that only her partner can see it).

But long veils, like the one Malleus is holding is also just a garment for a noble to hide their nobility. Which is this is probably the likely reason, considering he's using that veil to cover up his horns and his clothes, the most obvious features of his status.

Also, it could be just a fun reference to the fact that Maleficent in live action wore a long veil to hide her horns so that she wouldn't scare the humans lol

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Food in Fiction Writing

Often, we structure our days around food; a family meal, the office lunch break, dinner out with friends or maybe late-night instant ramen to get you through a deadline. But how do you include these moments in fiction writing? And what can you make this say about your characters?

Food as Habit

Giving your character eating habits and tastes can really flesh them out.

Try to think about where they eat, who with, and what?

Habits make our characters come alive, giving them the sort of real interior life that readers can identify with.

Make use of their tastes in moments of emotion – after a climactic moment, do they come home and relax by cooking, or try and escape to a fancy restaurant among friends – or do they not have the energy to eat at all?

Food is a great way to show character rather than telling.

Food as Subtext

Another great way food can show instead of telling is to use it in a conversation, when people are saying one thing but meaning another.

Often, when people argue, it starts off as a small problem – like burning the dinner, or what restaurant to choose.

Use food as a starting point in conversations when people are letting out their emotions through another meaning.

Let your characters debate their marriage through a restaurant without enough vegetarian options, or show someone’s romantic interest through appreciation of a badly cooked meal.

Food as Structure

You can show a lot about the order of a character’s life through when they eat.

Meals are a very everyday moment in your story that can provide order or disorder – if your character has to meet someone for lunch, obstacles preventing this can provide tension.

Eating is often entangled with a tight sense of time, so use this to your advantage.

Even small moments of tension and disorder can add a lot to your story.

Food as Sensation

Food invites rich and flavourful description.

All our senses are engaged while eating – not just sight and taste.

Think about how you can describe the intense smell of a curry, the way it feels as you chew it, the sizzling sound of the frying pan and the bubbling of the rice.

Create a rich sensory experience in your reader, maybe try and make them hungry.

A full-bodied description will make your scene come alive.

Food as Setting

Food is rich in cultural associations and tradition.

Do some research into where you are setting your story and explore what people there eat, when, and why – your character might be eating Sil (pickled herring) in midsummer, as is the tradition in Sweden, or celebrating Diwali with Besan Ladoo and other Indian sweets.

It is important to build a sense of specificity into the food.

But don’t fall into the trap of problematic food and cultural stereotypes – a character could just as easily be eating a burrito in Manchester as in Cancun, Mexico.

Food is often a shortcut to cultural understanding.

In the same way that literature connects stories with disparate readers, food itself acts as a vehicle for empathy in the communication between cultures and communities; both food and literature connect the self to the other in an act of empathy.

The act of eating is intimate, and hunger is vulnerable.

Picture your protagonist at her weakest, then give her a big plate of meaty spaghetti bolognaise, a Styrofoam tray of late-night cheesy chips, a ripe fresh peach, a hot bowl of Pho, or maybe an ice cream sundae.

At once, the writing will be enhanced simply for all of the rich sensory detail, and we will also see this character more clearly – she is given something physical, and a tension rises between the comfort of the food and the struggle of her situation, whatever it may be.

Stories thrive on tension and its release, and food is an incredible tool to either deflate or enhance that tension.

Food is inexorably connected to humanity, and so naturally plays a significant role in literature.

Food writing offers sensuality, symbolism, tension and empathy – for your readers and your characters alike. 

Even if you're not writing foodie fiction or lavish descriptions of every meal, you can still use food to help readers learn about your characters. For example:

A character you want to depict as adventurous might try unusual foods from their region, like crunchy grasshoppers or grubs for an American, or a character can show that they're stressed and busy by forgetting to eat or chowing down on prepackaged food because they don't have time to cook.

You can show readers a character's heritage or familial background by having them cook or remember beloved family recipes, or demonstrate that they're artistic by having them plate their food beautifully.

A tip for writing about food is to use all 5 senses in your descriptions to really help your reader see, smell, taste, feel, and even hear the food.

Try and avoid words that are general and can make it hard to envision something specific. Let's take an apple.

We could call it delicious and beautiful, but that doesn't help us understand the specifics of what it looks and tastes like.

But if we say that it's shiny red, that it smells fruity, tastes sweet but also puckeringly tart, and that your teeth crunch on its firm white flesh, you can almost envision it yourself.

Wine-tasting can help you find words for fleeting and elusive flavors.

Keep a book of adjectives that work well for flavors: salty, sour, sweet, sugary, sharp, spicy.

Smell is important too: vinegary, burnt, fishy, fruity.

Temperature may be a little easier: hot, warm, cool, cold, iced.

Texture: dry, slippery, hard, damp, nutty. And so on.

How to Describe Food in Writing ⚜ The Vocabulary of Wine

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[potchi-fics]

      you, for some reason, are weirdly attracted to vi’s back. to the point where you gawk at her broad shoulders, eyeing her like a piece of meat—i mean, you just cannot help it. it’s all you can think about.

“i love your back, baby.” your blunt comment made her choke on her water, but you meant it, you stared dead straight into her eyes,  “i want– no, no, need it tattooed on my forehead. i am gonna need it to be plastered on every wall here in our home.”

vi wipes the sweat off her forehead, just finishing her workout, “wha– what exactly is your thought process?”

“i appreciate your back.”

“thank you, baby.”

“let me ride it.” you saunter to stand in front of her, your gaze not swaying, hers holding uncertainty, “i’m serious. let me ride it. let me ride your back.”

vi snorts as she snaps out of her shock, an adorable smile adoring her adorable face, “that’s cute. you haven’t even ridden me yet, baby.”

“then i’ll ride you. matter of fact, i’ll ride every part of your body: your back, your abs, your fingers, your face.” you lean your entire weight on one foot, crossing your arms, and raising a perfectly formed sassy eyebrow, “it’s a need.”

      a beat passes before vi lets out a wheeze, your amusing behaviour charming her. this is one of many things on why she loves you; you are unhinged, unfiltered. she pulls herself together when she sees you pout, and she knows what’s going on.

she leans down slightly to kiss you, to which you kiss back without hesitation. wrapping your hands around her lovely shoulders, you let her pull you in by your waist. 

vi pulls away with a grin on her face, “you’re on your period, aren’t you? what, you want me to help you out?”

“that’s exactly what i want, handsome.” you peck her cheek at the end of your sentence.

      her breath hitches, eyes darkening, fingers tightening on your hips—-you love using that nickname because you know she’ll do anything once you do.

note: made this while drunk becus im drinkign because its christmas here. merry christmas everyone. lmk if yall need a SEX scene im also sick but cmon its christmas merry christmas

[libbytwq]

merry christmas!!! (2024)

So, it's Christmas. Normally I never make this type of Christmas special, normally because every year I usually have no one in specific online to be grateful for, aside from my followers. But these past 5 months, my life has truly changed, and i finally have people I want to wish a genuine Merry Christmas to. So here is a gift for those wonderful people.

And thats not all, I'm not just gonna make a cute lil gift and not explain why I love these people!

APPRECIATION GO! 💥

SMG8 // @strange0-0storm -- STORM!! I know we rarely interact, but everytime we do, it's an absolute treat. I love seeing your art, the stuff you make is so awesome and fun to look at, and talking about goofy shit is so much fun. I look up to you a lot and I want to interact with you a lot more. SMG8 was one of the first ever SMG4 OCs I've ever gotten myself familiar with, he's such a silly man and I want to punt him, I love your stuff sm, stay cool 💥

Mango // @its-a-me-mango -- MANGO!! I've always been a massive fan of your art since I was first getting myself familiar with the SMG4 Tumblr community, because of your artstyle and the goofy jokes and silly stuff, but since joining the TSB discord server and interacting with you, I think you are even cooler. Our interactions are so incredibly goofy and I love every single time you appear on VCs. Our sense of humor almost feels like it clicks and everytime we make jokes I be cackling, to the point I sometimes get distracted from what I'm working on... but hey its okay because we're all silly here :3 i love your stuff sm man and i think ur an absolute vibe keep doing that forever and ever

N4 // @bluesbox -- BLUE!! It is so much fun interacting with you about theories and stuff!! And hearing you yap abt N4 lore is so fun and cool.... im INVESTED....... Yappin with you about goofy lil theory stuff is an absolute treat and i love interacting with you sm guh h,, we are the SCHEMERS......

TSB // @tiredsmashbros -- TOMM!! you...... YOU..... I WOULDNT BE FRIENDS WITH ANY OF THESE PEOPLE IF YOU DIDNT EXIST.... i look up to you like crazy and the fact that i can call you a friend is still batshit insane to me....interacting with you and joining your server has in fact changed my life for the better and i am not the same person i was before your 1k birthday party.... you are a huge inspiration to me and your lore is impeccable bUT DUDE I WANT ANSWERS, the TSB lore has me invested and i wanna know whats goin on im gonna..... GSHDJFNF IM GONNA GETTT Y /silly /pos dude your are so crazy awesome i love vibin with you n being silly all the time. qwah puh 💥

Neo // @neo91502 -- NEO!! You were one of the first people i bonded with in the server, and for that i think you are incredibly awesome, i love your art and everything you draw they always look so super cool and awesome and wa h,, i love your stuff sm but man you gotta handle your addiction to tsmg4 and long haired smg4 its gonna be a problem if you cant get it under control /silly YOU ARE SO AWESOME AND FUN I LOVE YAPPING WITH YOU RAAAGH

Hexsy // @nxva-blogz -- NXVA!! sigh..... i GUESS i have to include you.... for the sake of the hexore...... /j /silly you are so crazy and interacting with you is sm fun ill be completely honest. The hexsy lore is so so neat and i love your art sm guh,, I love vibing with you and being silly you are such a goofy ahh individual and you bring a lot of joy hehehehe explodes y

And now, there were a few other people I really wanted to fit on the couch, but couldn't because I burnt tf out. So heres me showing appreciation to those people too!

@knightedmares -- MY TWIN!! KNIGHTMARE KNIGHTMARE KNIGHTMARE!! We have so much in common and we just be vibin everytime you show up. I love your oc Trick sm and i love vibing with you guh

@rmgkyle -- KYLE!!! you feed me everyday and i appreciate it very very much. You are so incredibly goofy and i love RMG from the bottom of my heart and you are so insane but i love that WEE

@mikchi8 -- mikchi you are a menace to the server and i am very scared of you,, but thats ok cuz you are very silly and i love vibin with you /pos

@kittykibbl -- Kitty i LOVE your various AUs a ton and you were one of the first people i interacted with online, from one of the first WOTWs, and i still love your stuff a ton and interacting with you is a lot of fun yippe

Merry Christmas everybody!!

- Lore, libbytwq

[pearlv1ne]

I just finished all of Kai's FTEs and I really wanted to add to this, cause I truly belive he has some strong trans coding going on

First of all, his name! Before coming out, many trans people come up with a kinda gender neutral nickname for themselfs as a way to feel more comfortable. If they're from transphobic community/family, it also helps to hide their actual identity while not really having to use their deadname.

You cannot tell me that the name "Kai" couldn't totally act as this kind of nickname!! Its very gender neutral and it could be a diminutive for many feminine given names. It was also pretty popular back in the 2020-2021 era, mostly within trans community. If we assume p:eg takes place in 2023, this would be the time Kai started his media presence.

But that's not all! While I was watching Kai's FTEs, I noticed this one perticual line:

For context, he's talking about taking a social media-related job after his own profile started gaining traction. It happened a year ago, and Kai is now 18 - which means he was 17 when he took the job.

My question is, why a 17 y/o is struggling to pay rent? Why a teenager is paying rent AT ALL? That's pretty much still a child. He's not even old enough to drink yet. Shouldn't he live with his parents?

The answer is simple - his parents kicked him out.

This is all speculation on my part, but what if Kai's parents kicked him out after he came out as trans? It would tie well with my nickname theory. In his 4th FTE he also talks about how he doesn't really have any friends besides his followers.

But Kai USED TO have friends - he says it in his second FTE. So hear me out. Let's say Kai comes from a very transphobic community. To cope with dysphoria and hatred towards others like him he starts a social media profile, using his chosen name. He posts edited photos of himself, trying to appear more masculine, all of that stuff - but then, something happens and his family and friends find out about his identity. His parents kick him out, and his friends stop associating with him.

Doesn't that sheeds a whole new light at his previous words? "They're always telling me to keep [...] beging myself... Even though they don't have too... Even though they could stop at any moment... they're still here, despite everything". LIKE, COME ON. THAT'S SOME HEAVY CODING IF I EVER SEEN ONE.

Speaking of coding, Kai actually says A LOT of things during his FTE that could be read as trans allegory. This one specificaly stuck out to me:

"... But beging incognito wasn't even my choice." HELLO???? AM I GOING CRAZY????

It might be just me reading to much into things, but I geniuenly think that Transmasc Kai headcanon makes sooooo much sense!! I already love him as he is ( chapter one only made my appreciation for him grow) and I think making him canonically transmasc would add so much layer to his character. Its also not that unlikely, since Kaimon is semi-canon at this point lmao

Anyway, if Kai ever gets comfirmed as canon trans, don't forget that I and op called it !

why do I have an inkling that kai monteago might be trans.......... Like I don't have any substantial proof (only chapter 1 is out right neow duh) but it's just a feeling

I mean butterflies are a common symbol for transformation right? It just so happens to be his motif, a pink butterfly being sewn onto the left side of his sweater (where his heart is). Also in the beach designs, he's covering his chest too

Even in this official art (Desmond and wenona look so FINE but that's not the main focus here) Kai is basically fully covered. I'm pretty sure swimming binders do exist, so I wouldn't be surprised if that's why he doesn't reveal his bare chest like most of the male cast.

I mean, its also possible it ties into him as a person. He begun as an influencer by posting edited photos of himself. He's definitely not as confident as he makes himself out to be.

Anyway transmasc Kai canon trust I'm actually the apple Damon's holding in the trailer

[kaeyas-beloved]

baking + roommates || Leon Secret Santa || gift for @chesue00

cw: gn!reader, re2r!Leon, strengthening friendships with like… a crush mixed in there, au where there was no zombies and Leon got to be happy in RC as a rookie :3 tooth rotting fluff make sure to book a dentist appointment

I like to think Leon can cook well enough but can’t bake for shit <3 he gets flour EVERYWHERE

Anyway, I hope you like what I’ve written (it’s my first time writing Leon so I’m hoping he’s not too ooc + I haven’t written in some time so I might be a little rusty :(() and thank you so much to the people behind @leonsecretsanta for hosting this event :>

Leon had his fingers and toes crossed, knocked on any wood surface and whispered prayers that he’d been signed up for something simple. It's his first Christmas at the station and, as tradition, the staff were throwing a small holiday party. Everyone had a part to play, picked from a hat that acted more like decoration than its intended use, and when the time came to pull names, Leon, of course, got the only thing he couldn't do: baking.

And he couldn’t even just buy some sweets either! "Against the rules," his fellow officers said, which was fair, but definitely put the rookie between a rock and a hard place. So that’s why he’s here, staring intently at his phone, a short, kind text to his roomie that he hoped didn't relay how desperate he was. Hey, do you by chance know how to bake?

He sure hopes you do. You’re really his only hope for this. It’s not like he has a spouse or mother like his coworkers that he could go to for help. Hell, he doesn’t really even have any friends in this city yet!

The vibrate in his hand makes his heart beat faster than he’d like to admit, and as he reads what you’ve responded with, Leon couldn’t help but do a little mental cheer.

I do actually. Why, you wanna learn and butter up your police buddies?

— — —

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t surprised at how close your tease was to the truth, but the main point stood: Leon wanted to learn how to bake, and you were more than willing to help.

Honestly, bonding with your roommate wasn’t on your bingo card this year, what with how different your schedules were. You barely saw each other throughout the day, and when you did it was always quick hellos and good mornings. So to finally experience the ‘roommate experience’ you’d hear so often in media, you were pretty stoked.

The door opened just as you were finished pulling out everything you needed, that familiar soft and friendly smile greeting you as he walked through the door.

“Hey,” he said, the corner of his mouth tilting up a little more once Leon spotted you. Blues the colour of snowflakes scanned behind you at the collection of ingredients and baking tools, “thank you. Again, I mean, I know it was a little… a lot of a short notice. I really appreciate it.”

The smile you gave back was much like his, soft and kind, “it’s not a problem, really. I hope cupcakes is sufficient enough for the party?”

“More than enough,” Leon replied, a small, relieved breath leaving his lips. After setting down his work bag back in his room and freshened up a bit, the blond returned to your side, glancing curiously over your shoulder at the cookbook you were reading. You’re not sure if he noticed, but the proximity had you tensing just a little. Not out of uncomfortability, but rather because he was just so close and so warm and hot damn he smelt good too. You’re almost tempted to ask what cologne or soap he uses, only to bit your tongue, feeling it too weird to ask such a thing.

“Alright, so, baking is pretty easy as long as you got the recipe to follow and some common sense,” you started, moving on from the momentary fawning you had, pulling the metal bowl forward and handing it to him, “but there are some tips to it. Like starting with all the dry ingredients first.”

You sounded so sure, so confident, Leon thought, and it had him thinking it made you just a little more attractive. He’s sure he’d think the same if you’d been stuttering over yourself, but watching you take charge and teach him felt almost natural to him. He liked to learn and follow by example.

Leon gave his full attention as you showed him all the little tricks with baking, like how to properly measure dry ingredients, which measuring cup to use and so on. It was a lot, but he was a fast learner, something you commented on as well, which boosted the blond’s ego minimally.

He was only pulled out of patting himself on the back for appearing competent in front of you after you handed him the electric mixer with just the order to mix the dry ingredients. Well, how hard could that be? Sure, he’s never used one, but he’s seen people use them on the television. So, he tilts the bowl a little, sticks the beaters in and turns on the blender.

You caught him a second too late, the sound of the mixer drowning out the call of his name. And just like that, your roommate has covered himself in an almost comedic amount of flour.

Leon shuts the mixer off, and it’s silent between the both of you for a moment, as if it’s taking him a moment for the events to sink in. And boy when it does, he looks to you with an apologetic smile that’s some kind of mix between sheepish and dorkish.

“Ah-ha… sorry,” you didn’t think he could get any cuter, but the you spotted a faint blush on his cheeks. That was enough for you to crack, the sounds of your laughter filling the small kitchen.

Well, he didn’t expect you to laugh, but that’s better than you sighing deeply and being irritated with him. And honestly, it is a harmless situation, so he couldn’t help himself when he started to chuckle alongside you.

“I know it’s your first time baking, but the flour is suppose to stay in the bowl, Leon,” you say, your giggles dying down finally, though your smile remains. God, it’s been awhile since you had this much innocent fun.

Leon settles down too, wiping some of the flour from his face, glancing down at his powdered covered hand. “You don’t say,” he says, and without even thinking he flicks that excess flour at you, the lighthearted moment momentarily relaxing him as if he was with a good friend.

Leon felt his heart stop - now why did he do that? Why did he do that!? Sure, you two are friendly, and he’s sweet on you a little, but you’re not exactly that close. What he just did is what good friends playfully do.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-,” his awkward rambling is silenced by a return fire, a puff of flour from the bowl adding to the existing sheen of white already on him. When he cracks his eyes back open he sees you biting back another laugh, residue on your fingers pinning the crime on you, “okay, I deserved that.”

“Damn right you did,” you smiled, teeth and all. You really were just a ray of sunshine, bright and happy. Leon couldn’t have won the roommate jackpot better than he did with you - you’re fun, have a sense of humor, and super kind. “Next tip about baking: shit can get messy.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Leon agreed, wiping more of the flour off, this time brushing it into the sink. Most of it landed on him, so clean up wouldn’t be a huge pain in the ass, but clean up comes last cause a new mess is never off the table.

“Mhm, now, let me show you how to actually mix things without painting the kitchen in grains of sugar that’ll stay for weeks,” gently taking the mixer from him, you position it in the bowl, turning it on the first level (unlike him who put it on max), and begin to mix. “See how I’m not covered head to toe?” you tease, twisting the bowl with one hand while handling the mixer in the other. Leon chuckled under his breath while nodding. Something told him you might tease him about this for a long while.

After a few moments you stopped and handed it off to him, “now you try.”

As you suspected, he picked it up easily enough after watching, so well that you mentally patted him on the back. It was smooth sailing after that, mainly just following the recipe and mixing everything. You made sure to comment here and there about under mixing and over mixing and where the sweet spot was for this process.

With the batter poured in the tin and stuck in the oven, all that either you or Leon could do was sit and talk for a little. “You know, this has been pretty fun. Who knew, right?”

“It can be frustrating too, but yeah, overall, baking is fun,” you agree, “some even do it for that precise reason, because they find such joy in it.”

To Leon, that made sense, and he could see why a lot of people were like that. “Do you? Find joy in baking, I mean,” he found himself asking, not just to keep the conversation going, but because he found himself actually wanting to learn more about you.

You shrug a little, “to an extent. I don’t bake often, but there’s always the reward when what I make comes out good.”

He nods again, and a sudden question slips from his lips, “would you be willing to bake with me again?” He asked, a lopsided grin on his face. It was clear though he was a little nervous to ask, “without the mess, of course.”

Of course, you were a little surprised. You didn’t think this would be a reoccurring thing, yet you remember how fun it was to teach him, and the small moment you had with him. Perhaps he enjoyed his time with you as much as you did? You felt like you grew closer with him too, and you wanted nothing more than to be a real friend to him.

“Yeah… yeah that would be nice. I’ll show you how to make cookies, how about that?”

“Okay. Yeah, I’d like that,” he nodded, his smile widened a bit. He was looking forward to it, he gets to learn a skill, spend time with you and gets to see you in your element. It’s a win all around.

The next day when Leon brought in his share of the party, everyone teased him a little on the poorly iced cupcakes (you threw him in the deep end once they cooled, something about how his colleagues would think he ‘cheated’ by getting someone else to make them if they didn’t look like a newbie baker made them) but despite their appearance, everyone said they tasted good.

Leon was all too happy to reply that his friend and roommate helped him.

And, of course, he thinking about how much he was looking forward to making those cookies with you too someday soon.

[windvexer]

Hiya Chicken, hope all is well with you! Something’s been on my mind and I would love your perspective.

The thrust of it is: can the will of the universe (if there is such a thing) override spellwork?

For context, I lost my job earlier this year, and have been working some magic to get re-employed (along with a metric shit ton of mundane legwork). None of it has been fruitful, and in attempting to troubleshoot, I realized that several of my spells had conditions along the lines of “this new job will serve my highest and best self.”

I’m still a novice at casting – frankly, I’ve not had much success with *any* magic (😞) – so I’m guessing the more immediately pertinent issue has to do with raising power/magical headspace. But, I’m curious if that nebulous “highest and best” would get in the way of producing results.

Also, where exactly does that language originate?? I think I’ve seen it when people talk about petitioning the universe for guidance, or getting in touch with your purpose/path in this life, but is that from a certain tradition or set of beliefs? And if everyone has a pre-determined purpose (or something else that counts as becoming your highest and best self), would including such a statement cause spells to fail if whatever you’re casting for doesn’t align with that purpose? Because real talk, my unemployment has run out and I don’t have time to wait for the highest and best job any more.

Thanks so much for your time, I appreciate you!!

It's New Age.

FUCK your highest/best self.

Even if it exists it can go suck a room temperature limp pickle.

Bear with me my guy. Let's be bears together, peacefully watching the sunrise of this idea over the serene forests of wisdom:

What in the good fuck is the point of being a witch if not to DO WHAT YOU WANT TO DO REGARDLESS OF WHAT THE SHIT UNIVERSE HAS DELEGATED FOR YOU.

It is changing fate.

It is CHANGING FATE.

WITCHCRAFT IS CHANGING FATE.

THEREFORE HOW CAN YOU DO THAT IF YOU JUST ASK THE UNIVERSE TO KEEP DOING WHAT ITS DOING?!

"Hi I believe in this life I have been assigned a True Goal and Best Outcome. I don't know what it is! The Universe could decide it's in my best interest to never escape poverty so my soul can learn some shit. But whatever this Best Outcome is, I will obey it :) blindly :) Spells, go do my bidding! But not if they change my fate. I'm on those train tracks, baybeee. Full speed ahead towards the same place I've been going since birth."

YOUR SPIRITUALITY FOR HOW YOU CHOOSE TO STRIVE TO BE A GOOD PERSON, AND THE PERSONAL WORK YOU DO TO BETTER YOURSELF, SHOULD PROBABLY BE INTENTIONAL I BET.

What is your highest good? Because I kind of feel like you shouldn't leave that up to a nebulous force you don't understand. My guy, and I mean this in the best possible way, you don't even know the widely popular faith (New Age) these beliefs are coming from. I don't think you understand this concept of The Universe; and yet you seem to be willing to place your fate in its hands.

And I think you may also be horrified by the realization that you are ceding autonomy of your ambitions, your goals, your needs, even the very core of your morality, to some fucking Power or Presence or whatever.

What is your highest good? I'm sorry, I mean this genuinely - you do not get to let someone else decide that for you. We all have to read some philosophy and smoke weed and look at the stars with friends and decide for ourselves what it means to be a good person who lives well. Many of us will grapple with this our entire lives.

There is no shortcut. You can't be your best self by doing whatever you want and delegating the decision making to some outside force, hoping that a smarter and more benevolent power will just cancel out any bad decisions you make based on a rubric you don't understand.

If we do have Highest Selves and soul evolution, I do not believe we can evolve based on always letting someone else make the final call for us.

YOU CAN HAVE GUIDANCE. You can have help. You can have plenty of it!!

That's what the witch's familiar is for. That's what tutelary spirits are for. That's why so many people turn to gods for guidance. You can research someone, or ask for a specific kind of help, and say, "hi I want to cast a job spell but I don't know sorcery great, can someone help me craft this so that I don't end up doing something disastrous?"

That's what I do all the time! I'll be about to do some stupid shit about twice a week, but the spirits who love me and help me are like, "Hey! please do not do that sweaty :) That would be Bad," and I listen to them, because they are not nebulous faraway forces; they are my very good friends whom I have known for years and trust completely.

But at the end of the day, they can't make decisions for you. A very creepy truth, that I believe is actually true, is that gods and spirits of Witchcraft will not make decisions for you. They will not cancel out spells if it's not in your "highest good." They will let you do anything you want in your own worst interest.

They will help you and they will guide you. But it's like I said: you can't end up being your best self by doing whatever and hoping someone else picks up the slack.

I don't think it's possible to ever achieve any highest good or best self by never making an actual decision.

And that's what it is, I think. That's what it is when you say, "let me have a job if someone else thinks it's a good idea."

That's not your decision. That's not your choice. That's not your power. That's raising your hand in the back of class and hoping teacher will call on you.

Fuck the Universe. Fuck the highest good. How about some of that live deliciously shit? When do YOU get to eat? Your highest self must be stuffed at the table of delicacies harvested from every moment of your life that you sacrifice to it while you are here with your unemployment run out.

Look in The Universe's eye and tell it to start calling you daddy.

Command. Do not ask, do not intend. Force; compel. Dominate.

next I visualize that the candle is full of prosperous energies if Earth-Goddess wills it in my highest good- NO.

"Listen to me. Listen to me, Earth. Listen to me, Sky. Listen to me, my own Soul. For 27 goddamn years I have been doing whatever I think you want me to do. Now you're all going to do what I want to do. It is not my normal voice that speaks, but the voice of my power. The power within me laces every word, it seeps into the air like water into paper."

Do you feel like someone is suddenly squeezing you by the throat? Do words suddenly become hard to find? Do you feel a bit dizzy? Do you have a strange moment where you can't remember why you started any of this, like you're not sure how you got there? You're on the right track.

"On this day of Jupiter, on this hour of Jupiter, I am giving a command. I command that the magical pathways of this candle be opened, so that the free-flowing and freely given benevolent powers of Jupiter will empower and charge my spell."

(Do not command Jupiter, of course. We're engaging in a little courageousness, not trying to get struck by lightning)

"I do not need to visualize the movement of energies. I know the truth because I have commanded the truth and I am a creator god born into this flesh: The candle is filled with the power of a God, I have the ability to channel the freely-given power of one of the Seven Governors whom has been worshiped by humans since the start of time, it is here and I have claimed it as is my right, as was offered to me:

This candle spell will bring me the fate I desire, because I have designed that it will occur, and no god, spirit, beast, or man will stand in my way."

It should feel fucked up, my friend. It should give you stage fright. It should make your palms sweat and your stomach queasy. It should give you the same emotional sensation as having a heartbreaking conversation that you know will change a relationship forever.

Sorry, reality. Sorry, fate. It's just not working out. And since we can't get divorced, you two need to shape up your act because right now I'm in charge of this polycule. When the spell is over, we can be equals again.

And if you do it right, it should make you have to sleep for probably about a week. If your health allows it of course, I recommend not trying to restrict carb intake for the next few days. Keep headache medicine on hand also.

Thank you for being a bear with me. I hope you enjoyed this serene forest of wisdom.

[clueless-fan-critic]

Why Helluva Boss Surpasses Hazbin Hotel In the Best Way Possible

The Helluva Boss Christmas episode dropped and I caught up with Season 2. I love this show so much for so many reasons. But that doesn't diminish Hazbin Hotel in any way at all. In fact, because of the show, it gives us a much deeper appreciation for what Helluva Boss is doing. I mean Hazbin Hotel was cool on Prime, but I want to talk about why Helluva Boss is the "Shrek 2" of the R-Rated animated musical series by a YouTube Animator. And that's a weird mouthful.

Getting Better with No Reward

Helluva Boss makes pretty clear that the "evil" demons of Hell are basically regular people with problems. Whether a majority of demons are born in Hell or damned souls, it's clear that they grow up from children to teens to adults. They have jobs, families, homes, and all the mundane things in our lives. And do in fact die. Possibly? That part is vague in whether they just get erased from existence or reincarnate Chainsaw Man style. But with those in mind, what would exactly be the point of being a "good" or "bad" person?

Throughout the series, many of the demons have some moral code, ethics, empathy, or rationale that sets them apart from the more chaotic and stereotypical demons. What I saw with a lot of characters is they willingly try and change for the better, all without Charlie Morningstar or the promise of Heaven, but redemption. This is especially in the case of Blitzø with a silent O.

Blitzø is one of the more unhinged characters you would see as a demon: immoral, selfish, hedonistic, all those demony things. But we, the audience, get to see his life, his failures, and his pain and how it shaped him. While it doesn't excuse his actions, it does make us understand. Once realizing these feelings, Blitzø tries to confront the consequences of his actions, with some trial and failure. Reconciling with his twin sister Barby: failed. Apologizing to his exes: failed. Talking with Fizzoralli: okay but still some scars, literal and figurative.

In fact, both Blitzø and Charlie share one major quality: attempting to change the status quo of Hell. But Blitzø wants to be seen more than a lackey to other higher demons while Charlie wants to prove people can change for the better. While Charlie's reason is more rooted in selflessness and hope, Blitzø's feels more human and genuine. From what I could see from the show so far, Hell is getting a whole lot bigger in what it can offer.

What's The Big Difference?

Helluva Boss is a more grounded and relatable show than the epic musical of Hazbin Hotel. The show allows for a lot of worldbuilding moments with the different rings of Hell along with their functions and associated demons. We're introduced to imps at the bottom of the demon hierarchy, demon royalty through Stolas and the Goetia royals, and six of the Seven Deadly Sins.

It seems the Seven Deadly Sins hold the most authority compared to the Overlords. It might be that the Overlords are more rich people like CEOs, industrialists, and entertainers while the Sins are like government officials, both holding power and influence but in different areas of life.

Whenever Hell is used in a show, it's represented in a myriad of ways ranging from classic burning pits to existential or nihilistic despair. It does make it clear that Hell is more a dark reflection of life on Earth, but more dirty, vibrant, and chaotic nonetheless. Even the Earth depicted in the show isn't really different aside from the whole demonic powers and magic stuff.

What Makes it More Interesting than its Predecessor?

Helluva Boss uses episodes as vehicles for their characters. Basically, getting to know who we're watching, why they're important, how they are as people, and so on. It doesn't have an overarching story that builds to a final battle. They're just chilling with exploring characters and their impact to others and the present stories in different episodes. Although there are interconnecting plots and stories, the show is mostly episodic.

Its strongest element include the characters, its main cast, supporting, and even one-off jokes, they all leave impressions on anyone who sees them. Millie is given more exploration in later episodes with why she always put up with Blitzø and believes in their business despite his total incompetence and hangups. You think Millie is just this bubbly tank, but shows a much more vulnerable side who wants to be seen more than her "intended role."

Stolas is another character is breaks the mold of his role. With disastrous results for everyone he cares for. Stolas is the love interest of Blitzø who aids IMP with his magic. He slowly breaks out from being a prince into someone else he hasn't found yet. We see his royal comfort implode in the Sinsmas finale, he loses his status, power, and even his daughter because of a perceived fantasy or escape that would free him. But, like a lot of caged birds, he doesn't fare so well in the real world. Now left with truly nothing but the very person he made his "sacrifice" for. Even uncertain of that as well.

But, the songs from both shows are incredible!!!!

My favorites include Loser, Baby performed by veteran Keith David and newcomer Blake Roman and U 2 Me performed in "Apology Tour" by Bryce Pinkham. Both those songs really connect with me while conveying character moments. The songs in Helluva Boss develop and explore character like a musical would use them for those big "Declaration of Something" anthem. Defying Gravity, We Don't Talk About Bruno, even Cell Block Tango, all are songs that explore one's mindset, opinions, and personal struggles.

Why Should I Watch...?

The Characters, the plots, the songs, the animation, so much F^$King things to admire and love that I can't... I just... 😣 😩 ... I don't know.

Just Watch It and See for Yourself!!!

[jzprncess]

the missing melody ♪

part 2 part 1

pairing : franco colapinto x singer!reader

faceclaim : various people!

summary: With the Grand Prix results in, Y/N returns home inspired, diving back into her music. Meanwhile, Franco, curious about the singer he met, follows her on social media. What begins as casual online exchanges soon hints at a deeper connection.

warnings : some singers do not exist in this au since i might take their songs!

note : MERRY CHRISTMAS!! here is your surprise, i know some have been waiting but ive been in a writing block. dont kill me bc its short! i suck at writing UGHHHHHH

     ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

 williamsracing just posted 

liked by yourusername, username2, and 535,290 others 

williamsracing TEAM 💙  10 POINTS IN BAKU 🔥🔥🔥

An incredible drive by both drivers and we secure P7 and P8. GET IN THERE! 👏  This is only the beginning.

view all comments 

username2 VAMOS VAMOS VAMOS 🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷

username4 this progress of williams is what’s giving me hopes for carlos next year 🥲

username6 🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷

username8 WOWWWW BRAVO 👏🏼👏🏼

username3 COLAPINTO2025 

username5 STANDING OVATION!!! 🔥🔥

username5 y/n was the good luck charm! i’m telling you! 🫵🏼

username7 simply lovely

yourusername grateful to be here and watch the team score some points. it’s amazing to watch, might just have to join for another race soon. thanks again for letting me join in the paddock! 🇦🇷🔥💙

↳williamsracing we’re glad to have you y/n, can’t wait to see you trackside again! wishing you luck on your future endeavors! 💙

↳alex_albon appreciate it! we hope to see you soon!

↳francolapinto glad you could be here! i would love for you to come to another race, let’s make it happen. 💙

↳username5 now i need her to go to another race this season

third pov

As the Grand Prix weekend drew to a close, Y/N felt a bittersweet mix of relief and melancholy. The weekend had been a whirlwind, filled with the excitement of the race and the unexpected attention she had garnered from her appearance. The crowded paddock and constant buzz of conversations had left her mentally drained, but as she walked toward the car that would take her back home, there was a certain peace settling over her.

The world outside the track seemed quieter, more serene. She could hear the faint hum of the engines in the distance as the final laps were being completed, but for her, it was time to leave the chaos behind. The press, the cameras, the questions—all of it faded away as she slid into the front seat, the doors closing softly behind her, sealing her off from the world she had momentarily rejoined.

She pulled out of the paddock, and stared out the window, watching the lights of the city blur past as she made her way back home. The city was still alive, but she felt removed from it, as though she were floating in a different space. Her mind wandered back to the people she had met during the weekend—the 2 william's drivers, the fans, the connections she made. She longed for the solitude of her room, a place where she could decompress and regain the clarity she so desperately sought. 

As the car rounded a corner, she caught a glimpse of the track once more, her heart stirring with a mix of admiration and uncertainty. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but for now, she was content to retreat into her own world and reflect on the moments that had left an imprint on her soul.

franco’s pov 

I stood on the podium, the aftertaste of victory still fresh as my team erupted in celebration. My first points of the season—it wasn’t much, but it felt like a significant step forward. The atmosphere was electric, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything was falling into place. But even with all the cheering and the congratulations, my thoughts kept drifting to something—or rather, someone—that had caught my attention this weekend. Y/N. I didn’t know much about her, but I couldn’t ignore the way she moved through the paddock with such quiet grace. It wasn’t just her fame, though that was undeniable; it was something about her presence. She wasn’t demanding attention, yet everyone seemed to be aware of her, drawn to her in a way that made me curious.

There was something magnetic about her. It wasn’t just the way she looked—it was the way she carried herself. She didn’t seem to be seeking validation from anyone. She wasn’t flashy, but there was an air of confidence, a mystery to her that intrigued me. 

I’d seen her throughout the weekend, but it was when I finally met her that everything clicked. We had a brief conversation with Alex, nothing too elaborate, just a few exchanged words, but it felt different somehow. The way she spoke, the way she listened—it was all so natural, so unassuming. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and yet there was something about her that made me want to know more. Her smile, the subtle warmth in her eyes—it was like she was letting me see just a glimpse of who she was, without revealing too much. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a casual interaction, but it left me wanting to understand what lay beneath that composed, almost guarded exterior. There was more to her, I was sure of it, and that curiosity lingered long after our conversation ended.

The more I thought about her, the more I found myself wondering what had brought her to this point in her life. Here she was, standing on the fringes of our world—famous, yes, but still somewhat distant, as if she didn’t quite belong to this chaotic universe we all lived in.

I read her Instagram post after the race, since I was already in the car on the grid, when she posted it. She had opened up about the struggles she had been facing, about stepping away from the spotlight and the personal battles she was fighting. It was raw and vulnerable, nothing like the polished image the world saw. It made me realize that the person I had met wasn’t the confident star I had expected, but someone much more complex. She wasn’t just another celebrity navigating the chaos of fame—there was a quiet strength to her, a kind of raw honesty that made me want to understand her even more.

Back in my hotel room later that evening, after everything had quieted down, I found myself scrolling through my phone. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about that brief moment when our eyes had met. I opened Instagram without really thinking about it, my fingers moving almost on autopilot as I searched for her name. Something inside me told me to take this small step. I followed her. There was no reason why I should expect anything from it, but I felt the impulse to reach out in some way, even if it was just this simple action.

I sat back on the bed as I hit “follow,” my heart beating a little faster as I did. I wasn’t expecting her to notice, but something about it felt right. I scrolled through her feed, each post revealing just a little more about who she was. There was an intimacy to her posts, the way she shared pieces of herself without fully letting anyone in. It wasn’t the usual curated perfection I saw from other influencers. Each photo seemed to tell a story, but only if you were paying close attention. I couldn’t help but be intrigued. Maybe it was the beginning of something, or maybe it was just a small, fleeting curiosity that would fade away. But as I followed her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the start of something that could pull me into her world in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

y/n’s pov 

As I stirred the sauce, my phone dinged from across the kitchen. I wiped my hands on a towel and walked over to check it. When I unlocked the screen, I saw Franco had followed me on Instagram. I paused, staring at the notification for a moment, a little caught off guard. My mind raced as I thought about our brief encounter, and I felt a sudden urge to message him. Taking a deep breath, I opened the app, ready to start typing.

messages

third pov

Y/N stood in her kitchen, wiping down the last of the plates from dinner, the sounds of the quiet house filling the space around her. She had eaten alone tonight, a habit she’d fallen into over the past few months. The familiar hum of the dishwasher was the only noise, but her mind was elsewhere. Franco’s face kept drifting into her thoughts—his easy smile, the way his eyes lit up when they spoke. They’d only met today, briefly, but something about him had stuck with her.

It had been a long day at the Grand Prix, full of excitement and noise, but when their conversation had veered into something personal, something quiet, it had been like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them. She had felt a spark, undeniable and electric, even though she knew he’d be leaving soon. He was on his way to Mexico for the next race, already on the plane when she had sat down to dinner by herself, yet the connection lingered in the back of her mind.

Y/N sighed, reaching for her notebook that rested on the counter. As she flipped through the pages, her fingers brushed over old lyrics, half-finished songs, and abandoned ideas. She hadn’t written anything in weeks—no inspiration, no motivation. But tonight felt different. She had this restless energy swirling inside her, something she couldn’t ignore. She sat down and began to write.

The pen moved quickly, almost without thought. The words felt raw, like they were pouring out of her all at once. She wasn’t sure if it was the memories of the day or the faint pull of something more, but she couldn’t stop herself. The chorus took shape, the melody forming like a whispered secret.

“It’s all in my head / I’ll keep it to myself / I know that you’ll never see it / I’m just looking for a reason..” (the bottom by gracie abrams)

Her mind wandered back to Franco, and she found herself replaying their brief encounter over and over. There was something about him—something real and different from anyone she’d met in a long time. But he was leaving for Mexico, and soon enough, he’d be consumed by the fast-moving world of Formula 1. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever see him again, and the uncertainty gnawed at her.

But still, there was this quiet tug inside her, a feeling she couldn’t shake. Maybe—just maybe—this moment held more than she’d first realized. It was all in her head, she thought, but she couldn’t help but hope for something more.

As she continued to write, her hand moved almost instinctively, the words flowing faster than she could process. It was like the music was the only place that made sense, the only thing that could capture what she couldn’t quite say out loud. She smiled softly as the song began to take shape, feeling that spark of something inside her. It wasn’t finished yet, but there was a sense that this was just the beginning.

The quiet of the house was only interrupted by the soft scratch of Y/N's pen as she wrote, her thoughts wandering to the conversation she’d had earlier with Franco. Her phone suddenly buzzed, and she jumped slightly. Seeing Franco's name on the screen made her hesitate, but she quickly answered, trying to sound calm.

*start of phone call*

“Hello?” she said, her shyness making the greeting almost tentative.

“Hey, it’s Franco,” came his familiar voice, sounding warm and easy. “I just landed in Mexico. How’s your night going?”

Y/N felt a small smile tug at her lips, a slight relief washing over her. “Hi, Franco. It’s going okay... just writing. How about you? How was the flight?”

“It was fine, a bit long, but nothing I can’t handle,” Franco replied, his tone light. “It feels good to be here, though. Getting ready for the weekend.”

Y/N shifted in her seat, her fingers tapping nervously on her notebook. “Yeah, I’m sure it must be a bit overwhelming. But, uh, you’ve done this kind of travel before, right?”

Franco laughed softly, clearly amused. “You could say that. But every new race feels a little different. There’s always something new to learn. What about you? I know you’ve only been to one race, right?”

“Yeah, just today.” Y/N said, a little shy about admitting she was still new to the whole experience. “It was... a lot. But really exciting too. I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did.”

“That’s awesome. What did you think of the atmosphere?” Franco asked, genuinely curious.

Y/N smiled, remembering the energy from the day. “It was wild, in a good way. I didn’t really know what to expect, but the crowd was so into it. It’s different from anything I’ve ever experienced.”

“I can imagine. There’s just something about a race day, huh?” Franco said. “It gets under your skin.”

“Yeah, I think I get that now,” Y/N replied, feeling a little more relaxed as the conversation moved away from the work side of things. “It’s... thrilling. I can see why people love it.”

“So, what did you do after the race? Did you go back hotel?” Franco asked, genuinely interested in how she was spending her time.

Y/N shifted slightly, a little self-conscious. “No, I just came home. I haven't been, um... great with big crowds recently, so I thought I’d unwind for the night. I guess it’s a good thing I like being alone sometimes.”

“I totally get that,” Franco said, his voice softer now, almost like he understood exactly what she meant. “I’m kind of the same way. Traveling and being around people can be... draining.”

Y/N smiled faintly, feeling a little more at ease. “Yeah, exactly. It’s nice to just have a quiet night to yourself.”

There was a pause, and then Franco continued, “What do you usually do when you’re alone? Like, when you’re not writing?”

Y/N hesitated before answering, her fingers gently brushing over the edges of her notebook. “I, uh, watch movies sometimes. Old ones. And I read a lot too. Mostly books that... help me forget everything for a little while.”

Franco’s voice was warm, and she could tell he was trying to keep the conversation light. “I think I’d like some movie recommendations. I’ve been wanting to watch something different, but I don’t know where to start.”

Y/N smiled softly, appreciating how easy the conversation was flowing now. “I could definitely do that. If you like old films, I’d recommend some classic noirs. They’re... atmospheric, but in a cool way.”

“Sounds perfect,” Franco said, clearly interested. “I’ll have to try that when I’m not in race mode.”

“I’ll make a list for you, then,” Y/N replied, her voice lightening a little. “Maybe next time we talk, I can recommend a few more.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Franco said with a gentle laugh. “It’s nice just to talk about something that’s not... the race or the schedule.”

“Yeah, it is,” Y/N said quietly, feeling a strange sense of connection. “I didn’t expect it to be so easy to talk.”

“Me neither,” Franco agreed. “But I’m glad we’re talking.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a little more comfortable with the whole situation. “Me too. It’s... nice. I’m glad you called.”

“Glad I did too. Well, I’ll let you get back to your writing,” Franco said, though his voice didn’t sound ready to hang up. “But we’ll talk soon, okay?”

“Yeah,��� Y/N replied softly. “Take care, Franco.”

“You too, Y/N. Talk soon,” he said before hanging up.

Y/N set the phone down, a quiet smile on her face. She didn’t know why she felt so calm after talking to him, but somehow, it felt like the beginning of something she hadn’t expected. A spark had been lit inside her, something she hadn’t felt in a while. Her mind was buzzing, and for the first time in days, she felt truly alive.

She glanced at the clock—still early, though not for long—and something inside her stirred. Without thinking, she grabbed her notebook and walked out of the room, heading down the hall toward her studio. The house was quiet, still, but her mind was racing. As she flipped the lights on in the small room filled with instruments, sound equipment, and all the tools of her trade, it was as if everything clicked into place

The walls, once silent and stifling, now seemed to hum with possibility. She set her notebook down, reached for her laptop, and immediately pulled up her music software. Her fingers hovered over the keys, and within minutes, she was in the zone, the melody flowing almost effortlessly. Ideas she hadn’t known were waiting to be discovered spilled out of her, notes and lyrics coming together like pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t known needed solving.

For hours, she lost herself in the music. The hours seemed to melt away, her focus unwavering as she crafted something new, something personal, something that felt like it was coming from the depths of her soul. She tweaked, arranged, and layered tracks, her mind guided only by the spark Franco had unknowingly ignited. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this inspired.

By the time the sun began to rise, Y/N was still in her studio, headphones on, eyes tired but exhilarated. She hadn’t noticed the time slipping by until she glanced at the clock again. The song wasn’t finished, but it was close. She smiled to herself, realizing that the night had passed without her even thinking about the exhaustion she usually felt. It was as though the music had become the one thing that could make her forget everything else.

She leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she was grateful for this new, unexpected source of inspiration. And in the back of her mind, she knew this song was only the beginning.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

taglist: @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey

[yuurei20]

"Vil has possibly never acknowledged having friends, or even school friends." I'm confused. Are you talking in that one event or in general? If it's the latter...what? Vil has said that Jack is his childhood best friend, and seems to be friendly with Rook, possibly seeing him as one. That statement contradicts the canon.

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 👑🐺

I have not been able to find a line of Vil calling Jack his childhood best friend ("best friend" itself seems to be a word that has only been used four times in the whole game!), but if you happen to have a chapter or screenshot it would be very much appreciated! Always happy to update with the most accurate information m(_ _)m

The closest I was able to find is Vil's ceremonial robes vignette where he refers to himself and Jack as "同郷のよしみ," but in this case the word "friend" might be oversimplifying the nuance of what he is actually saying: Vil is acknowledging that they have something in common--their hometown--without referring to Jack as his friend! He is acknowledging their pre-existing connection without implying friendship or an emotional bond.

EN chose to go with "old friend" for this particular line, but it is not uncommon for EN to introduce the word "friend" into dialogue where it does not exist, which is why this series is based on content from the original game rather than the adaptation :> English adaptations will often simplify nuances for accessibility!

EN uses the word "countryman" earlier in this conversation, which I think is a perfect interpretation ♪

The realization of how very rarely anyone actually says "friend" (and Yana's interview where she says that the theme of the game is making problem children get along with one another) was the inspiration for this series!

Malleus, for example, has never referred to the prefect as his friend, but the word was not only added to his EN dialogue but the word "human" was replaced with "acquaintance"!

Between Halloween Year 1 and Halloween Year 3 Malleus promotes the prefect from "acquaintance" to "friend" in relationship development that hasn't actually happened in canon! Which I find fascinating ^^ The EN game really is its own unique experience!

Returning to Vil: he does seem to be friendly with Rook, but he has never actually said out loud that they are friends!

This does not mean that they are not actually friends, but refusing to acknowledge friendship aloud is also a theme:

Ace seems to be friendly with the prefect, for example, going to Ramshackle alone late at night so that they can watch horror movies together, but when others comment on how they are friends he will deny it 📝

Ace: "We're just in the same class. You don't have to read anything into it!"

It has been very interesting to track which characters seem adverse to the concept of friendship and which are not--are things building up to a climactic moment where characters like Malleus, Vil and Ace actually do admit that they have friends?

(In a mirror image of Ace we have Deuce, who is one of the only four people who have ever said "best friend" 👀📝)

I am certain to check new content as it releases for examples of anyone saying "friend" aloud and am updating this information as the characters evolve ^^

Am very excited to see if there will be character development and/or plot points in the future where the characters finally do refer to one another as friends!

[obsessingoverl]

Your first point is inaccurate. According to the National Center for Biotechnology Information, "In the USA, wild bees and honey bees have produced comparable quantities of pollination for most crops, including in agriculturally-intensive areas." Farming bees also makes veganism substantially more viable because it significantly increases crop yield, which would be necessary for the entire population to even go vegan. Additionally, bees are willing participants in their Farming and can/do leave of they are not provided with quality conditions.

While yes, farmed honeybees can displace wild bees, this does not have the negative impact of decreased pollination, as I showed above. There are likely other negative impacts, true, but they would be more limited.

I don't think they're always crushed (read: killed by squishing) but you have a point here. It is very unfortunate that some beekeepers are killing their hives, though that seems to be regarded by most on the beekeeping community as unethical.

I need more sources on this because I can see that bees are sometimes placed on trucks for transport when necessary, but it seems that beekeepers take great care to prevent harm.

That's true. Honey is objectively straight sugar, just not table sugar (sucrose). A carb is a carb is a carb. 4 calories per grams. (And to your point about tea, I fully agree. I don't drink tea for religious reasons and the health benefits seem very overstated)

While those are not better from a health perspective (re: carb is carb no matter what), I can respect you making that choice for moral reasons after what I've researched. I am not going to make the same one, but I appreciate you taking the time to interact with me.

What veganism did for me was bring up all the issues I had with society in the first place.

Why ARE some still treated like less-than than others for being different? Why are we taught not to care? What if it was me in their place? Why should I be in the privileged position and not them? What makes humans so special?

So now when I have found my voice you better believe I'm gonna speak out.

[usetheeauthor]

Kinkmas Day 3: Love Faces + Babytrapping + Bathroom Sex

Older!Realtor!Edward Lemuel/Guy Moratz x Bimbo!Influencer!Reader

Warnings: age gap (ed: early 50s, reader: mid 20s), delulu!edward but also he’s completely right, yandere!edward, oral (m receiving), ball worship, curvy/chubby!reader, mentions of insecurities, babytrapping, grower not show-er!edward, praise kink, little bit of humiliation kink, breeding kink, sloppy/rough kissing, unprotected p in v, creampie, scratching & biting, desperate sex, switch!couple

Summary: Banging your realtor in your new home sounds like a nice way to celebrate a close.

Gif credit: @/thelovewittch

a/n: writing for him cause I can’t get him out of my head so why the fuck not. Had the older him in mind and ran with it. Some inspo from the movie ‘The Substance’ in this because it felt very similar some of the messages they had.

YOUR knee brushed against his. Could it have been intentional? Could you even do something so scandalous in the vicinity of your parents? And you’re sitting super close. There’s so much room on this piano bench and yet you sat this close to him. God, he could smell your vanilla-scented perfume, wishing he could lathe his tongue across your delicate throat to see if he could taste it, too. He could feel the heat radiating from you and when it makes contact with his skin, he imagines for a moment that he could live in it. He hears the sweet gasp that escapes your lips when you run your fingers along the ivory keys.

YOU’RE a music enthusiast, it seems.

Edward was only showing off the piano display included with the home. He sat at its bench and playfully fooled around on the instrument when you decided to sit beside him and play truthfully. Beautifully.

Every now and then, you’d reach for a key over on his side and he’d force himself not to shudder when the action forced your bodies even closer.

He’s got to remain professional. His clients wouldn’t appreciate their realtor popping a boner over their sweet daughter but he’s hopelessly infatuated with you.

Just today—only 15 minutes into the tour where he’d first laid his eyes on you, Edward believes he’s found his soulmate in you. It’s love at first sight. You must feel it, too!

When he’d greeted you…you smiled and greeted him back! You laughed at his little jokes throughout the tour. And now you’re here beside him, making indiscreet attempts at being close while your parents examine the bedrooms upstairs.

“You played wonderfully?” He says with a goofy lovestruck smile.

“You liar,” You giggle. “That was so awful. If my piano teacher would have heard me play just now, he’d place one of those ice cream cone hats teachers used to make bad kids wear in the black and white days. I think it was called a dense hat?”

“A dunce hat.” He corrects.

“That’s the one,” You nod, pointing an acrylic-donned nail at him. “You’re so smart, Mr. Guy.”

“M-my first name is actually Guy.”

“So your name is Mr. Guy Guy?” You ask, blinking perplexedly.

“Guy Moratz.” Edward answers, trying to contain his excitement.

YOU just asked for his name! You half-remembered his name! If this isn’t your attempt to get to know him then he doesn’t what is?

“There’s a pool in this house, right, Mr. Guy?” You ask, glossing over his correction.

“Yes, an indoor pool.”

“Sweet,” You smile before pulling out your cell phone. “Think you could take some photos of me around the place.”

“Of course. Anything for you, my darling…client.” Edward answers awkwardly, attempting to stand on his feet but you sink your sharp nails into his biceps a little, pulling him back down on the bench. His dick jumps a little in trousers at this.

“Can I get one quick selfie with you?” You plead with the added pout and puppy dog eyes. You look so gosh darn pretty. “I want my instagram followers to see me with my new realtor. They’re coming along with me on my housing journey so I’m documenting anything I can. I’m practically the most mature influencer of my friend circle. They’re all still living together as roommates but I think I’m ready to be an adult. Just between you and I, though, let’s pretend I was the one who’d found you and not my parents.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Edward says and just as he finishes his sentence, you snap a quick photo of the two of you. You show him the picture and he frowns for a moment. He wasn’t ready and the photo didn’t capture his good side. What if you stare at that photo long enough and think he’s not as handsome as you’d believe? Or worse you show this photo to your girlfriends and they’d tell you how unattractive he is.

“You don’t like it?” You ask in a soft, whimper.

“It’s…okay. I was just in the middle of speaking so my mouth looks a little wide in that photo which made my head shape look weird and…”

“I could retake it. No biggie. But I’d like to keep this photo anyway. If you’d let me, pretty please.” You beg.

“Why?”

You lean in, whispering, “Because I want…to compare my best photos and I think I look hot as fuck in this one,” Standing on your feet, you yank down your tight pink dress that rode up your thick thighs before strutting to the nearest hallway. Edward. “Come on, take me to that indoor pool you’ve been raving about. I don’t want my parents catching up to us in case my besties want to facetime. I’ll see if I can crop you out of that photo later, if you’d like. Or I can even edit it to make it look better so that way we won’t have to keep retaking it. I, also, hate it whenever a friend keeps a bad photo of me just to use it against me or something.“

Edward fawns over you. You’re so considerate! To be kind enough to edit a photo for your realtor?! You’d probably do such a kind act for him no matter what he looked like. For that reason, his heart further warms up to you. You’re different. You’re not like Ingrid or the other women. You care about his feelings, you saw through him for the better. Just as a soulmate would do.

“Here is your stunning indoor pool room for your comfort, privacy, and all year-round enjoyment. This luxurious space boasts—”

“Can you take a photo of me here by the pool?” You question, already having dipped your feet into the cool water.

“Yes.” He takes a step forward looking for a position that would best capture the light in your eyes. Every angle is perfect. Oh, to have been born with such beauty. There’s no doubt your children together would be gorgeous.

Edward settles near the pool’s edge, standing in front of you as he snaps a quick photo. You stand giddily on your feet, singing him praises of his methods. “Are you some kind of a professional photographer?”

“Nope but I do a little acting on the side.” He laughs but once again his smile becomes a deep frown. Just in the background of the photo is his face upon the water’s surface, the waviness of the ripples causing its reflected image to distort. It’s…ugly.

“You think you can crop that part out, too, dear?” He inquires.

“What part?” You ask, squinting. He points at the small face in the background, it’s so small in comparison to the rest of the image that his thick index finger practically buried it. “Geez, you’re quite the stickler. But I can do that for you.”

“Thank you,” He exhales. “You look amazing in this photo of course. So you don’t have to delete the photo.”

“Mhm.” You say, side-eyeing him a little.

Edward lets out a nervous laugh, hoping to relieve any awkward tension. “Shall we go to the home theater?”

“Actually let’s see a bathroom, preferably ones with nice large mirrors. I need to take a pic of my outfit of the day.” You suggest.

“As you wish.” He laughs, feeling his confidence mask slipping. From the way you grimace at him, you can surely tell he’s crumbling. Could it be that you could sense his old self shining through? That you can see that he’s just a husk of a man still even after all these years. There has to be someone he could convince that he’s made for you. Just one more good picture to show you that he’s as perfect as you.

You’re led to a guest bathroom with gold accents and pearly white floor and wall tiles. There’s two large vanity mirrors—in fact, every surface of this bathroom is reflective. Edward is hesitant to enter, watching you take your photos from just outside the door.

You shoot him an uncomfortable glance, placing your phone on the counter. “Are you just going to stand there like an old creep?”

Old.

He is old, isn’t he? Fading in youth and beauty while you’re currently in the thick of it. And all he can do is ogle you like a pervert in your presence, yearning for you to see him in a better light.

“I’m asking you to come in here, dude,” You laugh, taking his hands to drag him inside. “You owe me a selfie.”

“In here? Wouldn’t that be a little strange?”

“Not for the kinds I wanna take. Here is the best place,” You whisper in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. You’re so, so close. He can hardly breathe. “The lighting’s better in here anyway. Ya know, so we can best capture your features.”

You stared up at him with those curious wide eyes, studying him up close. He couldn’t possibly look appealing from this angle. He still has the faded scars of the surgery just under his chin. You shouldn’t have to see him this way. So imperfect.

“Great idea.”

“Awesome! So, we’re gonna take this quick photo op and then we’ll go back to consult with my parents on how I feel about all this place, yeah? Do you have any pointers for how you want to take this photo?”

“No flash photography,” He says with a half-heartedly cocky wink. “The exposure might over wash my face with light, making it look all blotchy and sharp. And keep it at a distance just about my waist so it’s not too close but not too far either.”

He’s just so funny and kind of pathetic to you that you can’t help but find it endearing. “Wow, you know your angles, that’s for sure. Must’ve had a lot of practice. Are you sure weren’t a photographer in another life?”

“Just gotta keep up appearances,” He laughs. “It’s what pays the bills.”

“So is it always so prim and proper with you? Can’t it be a little…raw? Sometimes things should be candid; in the moment. Perfect can be a little boring sometimes. “You turn for a moment to lock the door behind you then your hands are on his belt and your knees are on the floor. “I can show you the best way to take photos. Try this method once and you’ll always feel beautiful no matter what.”

Edward isn’t sure what to do, mouth dry. All he can do is let out a strangled gasp and whine. You’ve barely touched him yet and he’s already a mess.

Torturously slow, you forcefully untuck his shirt from his pants and begin to unbuckle his belt, rubbing your face up and down along the trouser’s fabric as you do so. Your eyes never leave his, wanting him to see your desire in them. Yanking down his underwear along with his pants, his semi-hardened cock is free of its confines. You pinch it between two acrylic fingers, holding it the way you would a little worm.

“Aww, how adorable.” You giggle, releasing his cock so it fell over his balls. You lap your tongue over the length of it before pulling away with a stick line of saliva connecting you two. He whimpers quietly, trying to hold back his facial expressions. Even in the throes of passion, he stresses his appearance.

You cup his large balls in your hand, bringing them to your lips to place a red lipstick stained kiss on each scrotum. “Now these are huge. So good for breeding your woman. I bet you’ve got so much cum in them just begging to impregnate.”

“Fuck…please.” Edward whines, white knuckling the marble sink behind him.

You take the uncircumcised tip into your mouth sucking on it lightly and his eyes roll back, lips parting in complete bliss. It’s been so long since he’s felt the warmth of an eager mouth around his cock.

“It turns me on seeing the way your face changes,” You sigh before lowering your mouth down his length once more. He swells at your praise, growing larger in size down your throat. You gag, pulling away as spit dribbles down your chin. “Ooo, a grower. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Guy.”

You suckle on his leaking tip, kneading his balls to milk him for all his worth. Edward’s facial expressions are beyond reserved by this point, allowing himself to enjoy your worship of him.

“I love you.” He rasps, mainly to himself but you hear his breathy words nonetheless.

You moan against him, cranking up your motions on his shaft. It shouldn’t turn you on this much that this stranger just to you he loved you. It was so pathetic and sickeningly that’s what made it all the more hot.

You dig your nails into the back of his thighs, taking his cock deeper until your nose brushes against his fuzzy pubic hair.

Edward suddenly gets the twisted plan to assure you as his for good. The thought of finishing inside you plagues his mind enough that he forces your mouth off him, yanking you to your feet, to bend you over the sink. He’s going to put a baby in you. You’ll be his forever then.

“I need to be inside you. I have to.” He whimpers, yanking your panties down your legs.

“I wanna look at you. Can I please?”

He answers you with a passionate kiss, turning you over so that he can wrap his arms around your rubenesque form to seat you on the cold marble.

Your kisses are sloppy and messy, neither of you able to remain controlled enough not to knock teeth or bite lips. Edward spreads your legs for him, sliding you down the counter just enough to close the gap between your bodies.

You remove his glasses that fogged within your heated entanglement. With one hand held his jaw in place, keeping him from hiding his face. The other went down between your bodies, guiding him inside you. You both let out groans at the euphoric feeling.

He starts out at a heavy pace, slamming himself hard and deep inside you. You barely have time to adjust, forced to take him the punishing pounding. Though, your eyes threaten to flutter close from the bliss, you keep your eyes locked on him watching his every facial expression.

“Look at yourself, baby,” You mewl. “You look so fucking good when you don’t care how you look. God, those pretty faces you’re making are gonna make me come so hard.”

He glances at himself in the mirror. His unkempt appearance startled him for a moment but then your nails rake down his back, stab into his buttocks forcing him deeper inside you and he’s soon abandoning any care. You begin to suck along his jawline, meeting him thrust for thrust.

His hands excitedly explore whatever they can touch: cupping your ass, squeezing your breasts, clawing his nails along your thick thighs, or holding you tight against him.

The sounds of your tryst are sheer filth as his grunts clash in time with your moans. Neither of you do anything to minimize your volumes, disregarding that your parents could be just outside the door hearing this.

You control him by his hair forcing him to look at you while his face contorted in pleasure. His lips are now swollen from the rough kisses, his hair and clothes are disheveled, and he’s far gone from bliss. He’s absolutely perfect for you like this.

“It’s… so wet,” He whispers hotly in your ear, considering it your only warning you’ll get before he shoots up his hot liquid inside you. He expects some resistance; for you to push him away. Instead, you draw him close, touching the tip of your panting tongue to his as you wrap your legs around him. You refuse to let go. “I’m close. Fuck, I’m so close.”

“Cum in me. Please, baby, please. I’m not on birth control. Need you to breed me. Wanna be owned by you.” You cry, clamping your teeth on his bottom lip in time with your clenching walls.

Once again, you both let out guttural groans in unison as you reach your explosive peaks. You sob, real hot tears streaming down your face as you finally received what you’ve been craving.

His euphoric expression singes into the back of his mind forever a memory. He’d never let loose this wildly with any woman. The two of you tremble against one another from the intense aftershock of your combined orgasms. Edward plunges himself into your wet heat repeatedly, filling the air with sticky clicking noises made by your combined fluids. Satisfied you’ve received every drop, he finally stills.

“I’ll think about closing on this house. On the condition that we christen every room in this place. My hope is that I can pull the most unholy faces out of you once I ride you like a horse,” You trace your finger along the salt and pepper stubbles on his chin. “Promise me you won’t hold back next time, pretty boy. I meant it when I said you owe another photo.”

[nino-rox]

HELP!!!!

SYNOPSIS: Finished writing a really nice Timothée Chalamet fic, but I wrote it using elegant language, and now i don't know how to write/transition to smut for it - suggestions appreciated! I genuinely like the story as much as Library + Fascination [Jake] and Addicted [Byeon Woo Seok] [my best written fics], so I'm super nervous.

Wrote a really good Timothee Chalamet story, but I think wrote it so well that I'm scared to write the smut for it WHICH KILLS THE WHOLE POINT because it was a Xmas SMUT fic and now it's become this REALLY BEAUTIFUL WELL BUILT LOVE STORY and I REALLY want them to fuck BUT LIKE I CANNOT it's ACTUALLY so hard because the whole fic i used poetic elegant language not the *let's fuck language* and now i don't know how to transition this into smut BECAUSE IDK HOW TO WRITE ELEGANT SMUT. I ONLY KNOW FILTHY DIRTY SMUT WRITING, and now I'm really sad BECAUSE I WROTE THE STORY SO WELL. So now IDK what to do AND I would REALLY APPRECIATE YOUR HELP any advice is welcome ! Would u guys prefer an sfw version for now and NSFW later when I figure it out, or should I leave the smut for part 2 or like HOW EVEN WHY IS THIS SO HARD SOS . IM GONNA CRY ITS SO GOOD (IN MY OPINION, PLS DONT BE UPSET IF ITS ACTUALLY MID🤣🤣😅😅)

HELP GUYSSSSSSS SOS ! 5800 WORDS TO ONLY END UP NOT BEING ABLE TO WRITE THE ENDING IS MADDDDDDDDD :(

[knnichs]

RISK

He never believed in Christmas miracles. But if at this moment right now was his only chance–then he will desperately cling onto it as if it was the only thing that mattered in his life.

c. kinich x gn!reader

t. childhood friends to lovers, mild violence (abyss attack, but very short,) no use of y/n, cliche tropes YES i know is it really a knnichs work if theres no cliche stuff, wc: 3.4k

merry christmas, @papiliotao !! i was your secret santa 🧑‍🎄 this is a bit lengthy but i do hope you like it 🧡

Kinich certainly isn’t the type to befriend others.

Not unless it was something formed out of a transaction–or a commission. In this case, his friendship with Mualani was only formed because she was looking for a battle advisor to train Kachina against the wilderness, she said. In the end, he had grown rather fond of them, and gained two new acquaintances that day.

Outside of that, Kinich doesn’t exactly recall when he befriended other people. Sometimes a few people would pass by him while he walked around the tribe and greet him, it is quite embarrassing to say that he doesn’t remember half of their names, if they had never become one of his clients.

You, on the other hand, haven't disappeared from his mind a single day ever since middle school.

BEFORE THE NIGHT FALLS

He remembered the exact moment he got to know you. When his parents had left him as a kid, Kinich went to find a place to live and settle down as he did his work. He had just found shelter in the Scions of the Canopy, and under Elder Liek’s guidance, he was to go to school. Even if he hesitated, he was eventually forced to, the Elder wouldn’t let him help out around the tribe without it. There, he learnt about heroes and their morals–I mean, he questioned it: why would they do something when they wouldn’t profit from it?

In those classes, the other kids would make fun of him. Point at his ragged clothing made out of animal-skin, comment on his dirty feet, since he was always barefoot. You, always his knight in shining armor, called out their behavior and told them that they weren’t being nice. 

Truly a reason of all time, he thinks. Those kids would surely quit their teasing simply because they weren’t being nice.

But he appreciated the gesture. You stood in front of him–arms on your hips, you were determined to drive them away so they could stop picking on people smaller than them. He just looked up at you, (with what he hoped it wasn't a blank expression) curious why you decided to defend someone like him. He had nothing to offer you–he had no mora, no luxurious items. So, why? 

He wanted to ask you before the day ended. Following your footsteps until you were in the middle of the bridge. From there, you would learn his name was Kinich, and he would know what yours was (along with the reason why you decided to ‘protect’ him from that group of kids.) From there, you two would grow quite fond of each other over the years.

He knew he had always adored your kindness, even if it was towards people you barely knew–you somehow always managed to bring a smile to their face and a full heart to come home with. Once, he saw you help a crying child find their play sword–you knew nothing of her, aside from her name, of course.  You found that their sword was thrown all the way down to the river below, it was far from saving–the wood was scratched and torn into halves. So, ‘as any normal human being would do’ (in your words,) you spent the next few hours creating a makeshift sword for them, one that had star stickers and a ribbon wrapped around its handle. 

The kid came home happy to their parents, of course. Boasting about how wonderfully made their new wooden sword was and how this was the first step for them to join the pilgrimage. Her parents only shared a look that was saying ‘thank you.’ You simply smiled and waved, leaving them to enter their home as the kid rushed inside. 

That was all you got, simple two words anyone can utter, and you were happy. You didn’t get mora, you didn’t get any sweets, nor did you get any special treatment. Thank you, it was all you’re going to get for something you spent hours on.

It would be a lie not to say Kinich wasn’t puzzled by your behavior. Somehow, even after he had long graduated from Elder Liek’s class he doesn’t understand. Why do you do these things for free? If that were him, he would have charged them an enough amount of mora just because the work took hours already.

Later on, he would realize you did this simply because you think some things in this world are worth doing–no matter how much it would cost you. And a few years after, just before the next pilgrimage, there was an abyss ambush that almost ended with you hurt.

The sky was dark with a purple fog sabotaging your vision. The smell of smoke from a fire slowly starting to grow, its ashes filled your lungs and burned your eyes. You take another shirt and ran—ran from your home, and the tribe. 

Kinich was away at the time, blissfully unaware of the attack until it was already resolved. He doesn’t quite recall what he was doing before it. All he remembers is the feeling of his heart dropping to his stomach as he heard the fellow tribespeople say you were missing. Had a rifthound laid its claws on you? Where were you?

He would grapple across the forest, letting the branches scratch his skin as he travels, his heart rate increasing at the thought of you getting trapped, wounded—or dead, even. He can’t let that happen, not when he hasn’t told you everything.

Thankfully, he found you seeking refuge in a cave nearby. A few saurians found their way in your arms, a baby yumkasaur fast asleep on your lap.

“Are you hurt?” Kinich steps towards you, observing you quite intently for any injuries you may have gotten. You shake your head, petting the yumkasaur on its head. 

He finds a spot beside you, slouching as he can finally relax, at least a little. He still has to help out later with the damages. Fix a few tents that were broken, check up on the other tribespeople—but you were his top priority.

“I’m fine. Are you seeing this little guy? So. Cute.” You say, only sparing him a glance in his direction before focusing on that yumkasaur once again.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Cute.” 

FEAR

His friend group which consisted of only two people (excluding the dragon he carries around,) were only Mualani and Kachina. Those two were the only ones who truly understood Kinich’s method of maneuvering around the battlefield, pricing commissions, haggling–really, a few tricks in the book he has, they know about it. You’re no fighter, nor are you an errand person, you don’t know how to do any of these, so seeing Kinich do it himself may be surprising enough for you–but it’s really something he does normally.

You do know how Kinich thinks. How the little gears in his brain move, the quick shift in expression before it turns back to his resting face, how he truly feels in each situation–you’ve learnt how to read him. It may just be because you have good observational skills (which he dreads, for multiple reasons) or the two of you have spent enough time with each other to know what the other is feeling with a single glance, either way, Kinich isn’t as comfortable with it.

You can read how he felt, and he’s never felt that vulnerable in his entire life. He felt like no matter how much he tried to run from you, somehow–there's always a somehow with you–he still can’t hide anything from your ‘prying’ gaze. You know what makes him tick, what makes him smile, to the point that he wonders if you know how he truly felt about you. 

If you can read minds (and gods, Kinich hopes you can’t,) he wonders if you’ve already heard of the things he mutters to the moon at night, and the sun at day. Have you heard of the sacred promises he keeps close to his heart? That he would guard you until his dying breath? That under the moonlight, there was nothing he would wish for more than your presence beside him. Grounding the poor boy's heart in the moment only you two share. 

If you somehow have the power to look at someone's past memories, would you see the times he would pick up the guitar collecting dust in the corner of his room, play a cheesy love song from years ago and hum along to the tune thinking of you? There are far too many times he somehow finds a way to make a situation about you. It could be when he’s about to bungee jump, he finds himself tightening the harness a little more because he knows you wouldn’t want to live in a world without him. A few times when he’d go on commissions and look at the flowers, sit on the top of the cliff and watch as the sun set thinking how much more magical the moment would be if you saw this with him. Would you think it was pretty? How would the sun’s rays reflect on your eyes? Will it glow the same bright color that you bring to his monochrome world?

Sa isang munting harana, para sa’yo.

This meager serenade, just for you.

He can’t offer you anything. Nothing but his entire soul—his vow, to protect you, no matter the cost. Even as he bears the name Malipo, just a smile coming from you would already be more than enough for him.

And maybe someday, one day, he would have the courage to tell you the truth he’d been hiding all these years.

‘PRESENT’ TIME

“Kachina, there’s a few stockings on that table over there. Could you get it for me?” Mualani sat atop a chair, trying to hang decorations for your group’s Christmas party. It's not anything big, it wasn't meant to be that extravagant. All of you would just celebrate the holiday as it was, like what you did every year. 

The fireplace burned through the night, its flames becoming the main lighting of the room. It was bright enough for Mualani to see what she was doing exactly, and warm enough that it felt like a normal sunny day in Natlan. It was often cold during the winter, and although it doesn’t snow, the temperature does drop a little colder than usual.

“Here you go!” The girl handed four stockings–all personalized with your names embroidered on them. In green was Kinich’s name, yellow for Kachina, blue for Mualani’s, and yours in purple. With that in mind, you noticed a light green line of thread that resembled half a shape–curved at the top, and straight at the bottom. Kachina had a few sparkles on hers, and Mualani had the shape of a shark. You shake off the detail, deeming it unnecessary anyway.

Mualani gave her thanks and hung up the stockings all in order–her’s, Kachina’s, Kinich’s, and yours.

“This place is definitely starting to look lively. How much time do we have left until midnight?” You asked, sitting down on the world’s comfiest couch. 

“About an hour, we still have time to set up the bonfire outside too.” Kinich looked at the clock–it's frames decorated with reindeer antlers and a small yellow bell. You smiled at him, whispering a small thank you, and looking back at Mualani (who you were quite worried about, since you’re sure she might fall over the chair at any point.) Kachina was also quite occupied, scouring the place to find… something. 

After a bit more adjusting–the stockings were set up, the cookies are almost done, a few dishes have been spread out on the table already, and the marshmallows are just on the table. Perfect, there was just one more thing left.

“Shoot. Hey, uh, can you and Kinich go get the fairy lights? It’s by Altahua’s net.” She climbed down from the chair and faced you, “You know her, right? Yelafath?” 

“Sure do, I’ll just leave my bag here–watch over my stuff!” You say, placing your belongings by the place you sat on the couch. “Kinich, let's go?”

Outside, it was much, much colder than usual. The wind blowing accompanied by the amount of water that was near the tribe was enough to make you shiver. You and the boy made your way to the shop, you’ve only conversed with Yelafath maybe two or three times? But so long as you mention Mualani’s name, you’re sure that it’ll go okay. You rubbed your hands together and brought them to your mouth, huffing it in hopes that it'll magically turn warm. Hearing the sounds of clothes shuffling, you turn to your side and see Kinich already handing his jacket to you. 

“Quick, before Ajaw gets sick of being locked up,” He muttered. 

“Afraid he’ll tease you? Oh, what a softie you’ve become!” 

“Just take it.” He stands behind you, stretching out the fabric to make it easier for you to slip right in. You were getting warm because of the jacket, it definitely wasn’t because of him.

And it all falls back to silence once again. Save for the sounds of waves crashing and the occasional gust of wind. You don’t mind the quiet, actually, and Kinich wasn’t the type to keep on talking all the time either–preferring to be blunt and straightforward. But this is different, it wasn’t because he had ended a conversation too early that you don’t know what to say so it would continue, because you loved hearing his voice, you loved hearing him talk whatever was on his mind. His attitude towards it sometimes made you upset, feeling a little distant with him every time it happened, but you do know it was just the way he does things. The quiet that falls upon the two of you is comfortable.

All of it has to come to an end, eventually finding the shop. You hopped to the counter, calling for the girl who was arranging things in the crates.

“Evening, Yelafath! Mualani mentioned that she had fairy lights with you?” 

“Fairy lights? Oh, I don’t think she gave me any, sorry.” She looks around the shop, looking for something to give you, but shrugs instead. “I wish I could give you something similar, but we have nothing, we’re also closing for the day.”

“Ah, no, that’s okay. Thank you, and merry christmas! I’ll just tell her.” You smiled, giving her a wave. Kinich simply nodded, crossing his arms and following you behind. She greeted you back, and you faced the house once more, the lights of the shop behind you dimming before turning off–leaving you and Kinich in the complete darkness of the night. Some stalls were still open, the only few things really illuminating your way were the lamp posts and lanterns scattered across the platforms. 

“Where will we celebrate the next Christmas?” You shuffle with the jacket again, raising the sleeves upwards to bring your hand out. The stars were so bright with the mix of blue and purple from the galaxies above, 

“It’s our turn next year, we’ll be the ones hosting it. I hope you’re not sick of me yet,” He chuckles–albeit quite softly. It’s rare to hear him laugh let alone smile with or to other people. But with you, oh, everything is just so easy with you. He can always let his guard down without any fear of you trying to make fun of him. Even on days when he comes to you battered and bruised from a particularly rough commission, you take the time out of your day to care for him. To treat his wounds, focusing your attention on him that he shies away from your touch, insisting that you were doing too much and it could heal on its own. 

One step after the other, letting the salt air brush against you. 

And it once again, falls into silence. 

Ajaw does come into the picture once more after his 15 minute jail time was lifted, and thankfully fills the air with random and the most unnecessary comments.

You ring the doorbell to the house, tapping your feet impatiently in a not-so-coordinated rhythm while waiting for anyone to answer the door. 

“Mualani, Kachina–” you shout, “HELLO? The lights are on, I know you guys are in there!”  

“Seems like your so-called friends abandoned you two. How long until something goes wrong? Oh, I can already smell it! I, K’uhul Ajaw, will ensure that this world will know exactly what loneliness feels like, starting with you two!”

Your arms lay slack on your sides, breathing a heavy sigh. You knock again, one more, twice–until you just start slamming your fist on the door calling them repeatedly. You shiver from the cold wind and eventually give up. Backing away to face your friend, who was unusually, still quiet. 

“Kinich?” You say his name, ever so soft. His eyes dared not to look at you, in fear of showing exactly what he shoved deep down in his chest for the past few years you two knew each other.

“Ew, that’s gross! Don’t give him those lovey-dovey eyes! You’ll give him ideas, you hear me?! Quit that, you’re both so annoying!” Ajaw says, all while retching, “You know what? You’re both insufferable. I’m leaving!”

Some part of Kinich does wonder what exactly needed to happen for you to fall with him. He deemed it unlikely for three years now, saying that you couldn’t possibly. Not with someone like him–blood stained on his hands for his entire life, not for someone with rough, calloused hands that can expertly wield a claymore. Kinich has never felt something as delicate and gentle as you. The moment you tried to defend him from those immature kids–he knew. You would never hurt him, not once in a million lifetimes. With your gentle soul? You were filled with nothing but kindness and innocent hope. You were that glimmer of light he needed in his darkest time, the feeling he needed in his chest to keep going forward–to keep fighting, all for your smile.

Your eyes dart to where he was looking at, curious enough to ask yourself what exactly has him so speechless at the moment.

Oh.

Oh.

A cheap wreath with that familiar red bow, and the two of you just happen to be standing just right under it.

He never believed in Christmas miracles. But if at this moment right now was his only chance–then he will take it. He will desperately cling onto it as if it was the only thing that mattered in his life, and hold it tightly, sure not to let it go.

Being in his arms was nothing new, he’s done this several times as a way to comfort you when you were down, or vice versa. This, however, is different. As if an orchestra directed a symphony of a familiar and comforting tune–one that he used to hum you to sleep during those restless nights. As if you were brought back to the times you sat with him under the starry sky, pointing at bright white dots. The universe is vast and magical, and somehow, somehow, it gave him you. The only sun he ever needed in his bleary sky, the only drops of rain he needed on a hot day, the gust of wind during humid afternoons, the flower that bloomed through the cracks of the concrete. 

He pulls away. Gently, he repeats in his mind, this was a high-risk situation. 

But for you, he would gladly take it.

Kinich looks at you, worry filling his heart–is this the right choice? Even with this amount of hesitation, he pushes through. No matter the outcome, he will live knowing he had you at least once in his life. Gods, you looked angelic. The lampost from the porch illuminates you in a warm orange–exactly the color you had filled his monochrome world with. He brings a hand to your chin, tilting it upwards, muttering only two simple words.

“Can I?” 

“I told ya it’d work,” Mualani said, proudly huffing as Kachina hides in the corner of the room in embarrassment. “Now, I’ll be taking my mora from the traveller right after this. Not a word, Kachina, got it?”

She only nods in agreement.

@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.

HI REI! merry merry MERRY christmas <3 i had so much fun writing this & i hope that u liked it as much as i did ! :D you’re such a kind n awesome person i hope i managed to incorporate some similarities between u and the “y/n” of the fic cause i wanted to make it as self indulgent for u as possible BWAHDHAJHA IF THAT EVEN MAKES SENSE!! im glad i got to be close w u these past few month(s) & i hope we continue to get closer!!

[moodymisty]

Ok but the thought of Lion’s wife, The Matriarch/Mother, a MORTAL woman reprimanding a Dark Angel, a literal Demigod is hilarious. Enjoy my 3:30am attempt at writing how a scolding might go down.

The Mother and her Risen guard traversed the halls of The Rock. Noting the tapestries, paintings, and embellishments that decorated the walls were like a time capsule, showing what it looked like many centuries ago.

Matriarch/Mother: Much of the decor has remained the same since then…

Risen 1: Indeed it has, Mother. This current era of Dark Angels don’t have eye to appreciate taste and properly take care of it.

Risen 2: Appreciate taste? These idiots are completely ignorant of what’s around them!

The Mother couldn’t hide her amusement, a laugh escaping her lips before she could cover her mouth as the two Risen commented on the Dark Angels sense of taste. They could’ve at least dusted and straightened out some of the paintings and tapestries.

Matriarch/Mother: I remember this painting, wasn’t this one thought of and created by the one the Legions’ Praetor of old?

Risen 1: You are correct, I recall the inspiration was on how you designed one the many gardens on Caliban. Do you remember which one?

Matriarch/Mother: I don’t unfortunately…I wouldn’t mind taking up gardening again, although there may not be room for it on this vessel. But it could add some col-

Dark Angel: Blasphemy! You would taint The Rock with your chaos tainted creations?!

The Mother jumped, startled by the abrupt voice coming from seemingly nowhere. A Dark Angel that was watching the trio from a distance could no longer hide his disgust and disdain for this woman. Unsheathing his sword, he pointed towards her with such hatred, the blade itself shook from the stress he put on it.

One of the Risen quickly shielded the Mother with his body while the other drew his sword in response to such a bold and mindless accusation.

Dark Angel: The admittance of desecrating this holy vessel with your creations is proof you are nothing more than a Chaos tainted whore! I should cut you down, here and now, witch!

Risen 2: Whore?! Witch?! You DARE insult the Legion Mother?! The very same who lead the Legion when our Father fell? The same who assisted in hunting down the traitors during the Heresy? The same who-

The Mother held out a hand, silencing the Risen. She emerged from behind her Risen retinue, her eyes and expression calm and relaxed. Hands clasped in front of her as she approached the Dark Angel in question.

Risen 1: Mother Please! You don’t have to do this!

Risen 2: He’s right! Let us handle him, Mothe-

They both immediately silenced their pleas and worries as the Mother simply turned her head to face them, as if silencing their concerns instantly. Just as quickly as they spoke, the risen instantly dropped to a knee and bow, as if apologizing for their outbursts.

The Mother turned to resume her approach towards the Dark Angel.

Matriarch/Mother: Whore. Witch. Did I hear that correctly? My hearing is still recovering from my time asleep, care to repeat that one more time.

The Dark Angel scoffed but leaned down, he would tell this woman how he really felt.

Dark Angel: You are a wh-

In a flash, the Mother slapped the Dark Angel across his cheek. It wouldn’t have caused any pain to the Astartes aside from a small red hand print beginning to form on his face. The Dark Angel held his cheek, offended and at a loss for words at this sudden action. A bold action.

Matriarch/Mother: Whore. Witch. Is that all you can conjure for me? Can you not call me anything else? Have you fallen so far that you have no other insults and names to call me besides some childish slander? Has the Legion fallen so deep that the idea of bringing the Legion back its former glory consider heresy? You are an embarrassment to this Legion, boy.

The Mother glared at the Dark Angel, akin to a disappointing mother dealing with a child.

Matriarch/Mother: You and your brothers, if you could even call yourselves brothers, are pathetic excuses for an Astartes. The Legion must’ve been desperate to recruit the likes of you. I’m ashamed to even call you a son of mine. No, not a son, a mistake. How has the Legion survived this long with a mindsets such as yours? How have we not been wiped clean from the galaxy with men like you filling what is left of the Legion? Absolutely inexcusable. You are lucky my husband, YOUR geenfather, YOUR Primarch, did not hear your words. You would’ve been cut down before had time to take comprehend another thought.

The Dark Angel lowered his sword, staring into eyes of the this woman. A fire burning fiercely in her eyes, like the stories told of the Primarch during the Great Crusade.

Matriarch/Mother: Choose your next words carefully, they had better be the words I am thinking of right now. If not, I shall find an appropriate punishment for you.

The Dark Angel gripped the handle of sword tightly, shaking with fury as the woman stared him down, waiting. Yet he sheathed his sword and dropped to a knee.

Dark Angel: I apologize for my insolence and rescind my statement. Forgive me. It was unbecoming of me.

The Mother simply stood, hands still clasped together in front her, looking down upon this Astartes. Gauging if words held truth or if they were simply said to get away from this situation.

After a long silence—

Matriarch/Mother: I accept your apology, you are forgiven. For now. Take your leave until you are summoned. Am I understood, my son?”

Dark Angel: Yes, Matriarch.

The Dark Angel remained kneeling, watching as she turned to walk away. Her retinue of Risen stood and followed suit as they traversed back down the hall.

The Matriarch was truly different. The air around her was unlike anything he’d ever seen or felt. Such authority, with grace and elegance, followed with beauty, all contained together in this mortal woman.

The primarch wives can get away with a lot, we love to joke xD and I love this theming of Lion's wife being matriarch instead of legion mother or another title.

[melliemell]

Pairing: Jouno x reader

Contents: NSFW, hate sex, penetration (reader receiving), forced intimacy due to circumstance/convenience's sake, horny people stuck in a cell leads to exactly what you think it'd lead to, Approx 3k. words

“Wooh, I believe in you, buddy,” you said, voice hollow. You were lying on the ground, legs stretched against the wall as you tapped your toes together. “You’re so strong and capable, Jouno. What a brain, what determination.”

A scoff followed by, “I have better things to do than rot away pathetically. How’s that going for you?” Jouno did not move from his kneeling position, ear pressed firmly to the ground as he concentrated. 

“Marvelously, actually.” You looked over at Jouno’s hunched back. You could see the bloodied rips of fabric perfectly from that angle. Being stabbed that many times must’ve hurt like hell. “I think I’ve reached a serenity point. Nirvana and all that.”

The panic had subdued from earlier at least. The small room you were both confined in was just as suffocating, yes, but your body felt light. It was nothing compared to the shock of being thrust into consciousness suddenly, the sensation of your muscles twitch and move as you commanded them still oddly weird. The vampiric influence had lifted somehow, leaving freedom in its wake.

Something had happened. 

But your memories felt like distant dreams. Your body barely registered as your own, even as you watched your fingers flex and stretch before your eyes.

“Your delusions are not amusing me at the moment,” Jouno said. You could tell his exasperation was building, tapping against the floor and walls as he moved about. It was probably a first his senses weren’t quite as sharp as they used to be.

“You’re not much different. I doubt you could hear anything; there’s no one down here besides us,” you said, rolling over to lie on your side.

“It’s not down here I’m concerned with. Something’s happening at the airport.”

“I figured that much. Lucky us.”

“Your smart remarks aren’t as clever as you think. Your precious Agency could very well be in danger as well.”

That piqued your interest. Jouno despised all of you, and here he was–not throwing slander at your face about them. Peculiar. 

It was all of no use though. Not until you got your abilities under control, the effect of Bram’s vampirism dulling them enough to barely register they even existed. The room was locked shut, you tried enough times the both of you but the metal did not even budge.

What was left was to wait. And hope, maybe. 

“You giving up now?” you asked after what felt like hours of Jouno moving around you, pushing at places you doubted would suddenly make a hidden door appear. His shoulders were tense, hands crossed tight as he oozed restlessness in buckets. 

Jouno did not turn to you, but he raised his head to the ceiling with a sigh. “Your voice is annoying me, please stop breathing.” 

You tapped the ground beside you. “I’m good, thank you. Want a seat?”

“As if.”

Your palm moved against the rough stone. You observed it intently. “I’ll consider breaking us out…” You pushed firmly, feeling energy surge through your fingertips before a small crack formed into the surface. “If you ask me nicely.”

In your full strength, you could cause a whole tremor to pass through the building. Shatter an entire wall. But now–this was the best you could do.

Jouno turned to you, smiling gently. “Oh my, I would love for you to do that. It’s not below me to ask for help, you know. But I don’t see the point of it when you’re clearly a shameless liar. Or delusional. Take your pick.”

You frowned. “Give me enough time and I might. Your ability’s still trash at working too, isn’t it? ”

His smile pulled into a firm line. He raised his hand up, the tips of his fingers glowing into a soft blue light. Jouno’s frown deepened. “So it feels. Damn it.”

It looked rather pretty in your opinion. But you doubted he’d appreciate that comment.

You fell into silence again. Nothing to be done about anything for now. Jouno looked more concerned about this than you’d have guessed. Fists clenched until he finally sagged against the wall opposite you. His hand remained aflame, small particles constantly dispersing about. 

You almost felt bad for him. Knowing the betrayal he endured and seeing now his inability to right the wrongs. 

It was rather noble of him; to carry all that weight on his shoulders. By choice. Not that it would do him any good, but you couldn’t deny the warm feeling that spread in your chest, heart beating faster at the thought. Men like him were a rarity. If only you didn’t hate each other as much.

Jouno’s brows furrowed. He raised his head at you but only for a moment. He shook it dismissively, turning his face to the side.

You thought he’d be more talkative, to be honest. He certainly enjoyed playing an ass but the more time passed, the less sure you were of that. Despair was one way to put the feeling that oozed from this room.

You rose up languidly, blinking your annoyance away as you strode up the few feet distance between you. Jouno pulled back, raising his head as you hovered over his sitting form.

“What do you want?” he asked.

You dropped dramatically before him, hand resting against your cheek. “Your panic’s sipping into my peace bubble. Stop that.”

Jouno did not look impressed. “Contact security then. I’m sure they’ll be glad to escort one of us to a different accommodation.”

You snorted.“See? If I joke, you joke. Then the mood brightens and all’s good.”

“Aren’t you a charmer? Nothing is good.”

You dropped to sit beside him. “I… I know, okay? I don’t know what the fuck is going on and–” you huddled into yourself, eyes closing, “–I still feel weird and my memory’s fucked and my ability’s useless. I’m trying to keep it together, okay? That’s how I manage it, so don’t be an ass about it.”

Jouno sighed. “Rather pathetic way of handling it.”

“Hey, fuck off!”

“I would if I could.”

And he bumped you into the side with an elbow. You drew back from the pain but when you looked at Jouno, he was smiling. Not the ugly insincere smile, but a small, honest one. At least it looked like it.

Man, this was bad.

You breathed in deep, small droplets of tears forming in your eyes. “Fuck,” you breathed.

“Yeah. I can relate to that,” Jouno said.

“Something’s happening up there. They might be dying and we’re just– here. Doing nothing.”

“What a good way of phrasing it. And you were so calm about it earlier. Your Agency sure could rely on you splendidly as I see.”

Annoyance, sudden and spreading rapidly build up in your chest.“Don’t say that. I’m not–”

“Not what? Cowering away in here? Or should I wait for your full response?” Jouno was mocking you, his patience waning just as quickly as yours.

You turned to face him, palm plastered firmly over his head. “Take that back,” you said, voice like steel.

“Of course you’d want me to do that,” Jouno continued, eating up the whole interaction. His hand flickered, the particles just as bright, if not even more. “I was only sharing the truth.”

“Take–” you leaned in, face flush against his as your eyes blazed, “–that back,” you said, hand flexing firmly into the stone. 

Just as Jouno’s mouth opened, a quick response already on his lips, you heard the sound of cracking. You both froze in place. Small bits of ruble fell on Jouno’s shoulder, your hand digging into the stone so forcefully it had smashed a dent right in it. You watched in wonder the small spider-webbed cracks trailing up and down and everywhere. 

You didn’t notice when you activated your ability. Your chest felt tight and overly alive with emotions.

“Anger me again,” you said before you could process it.

Jouno’s hand had trailed up, feeling the cracks behind him. “That’s an inconvenient way. What are you, feral?”

You ignored him, mind spinning. You’ve never had this before. But abilities were heavily influenced by states; Atsushi was a perfect example of that. Too many emotions and you lose control.

Become dangerous.

You looked at Jouno, eyes blazing with the possibility. 

If you ever needed a more perfect man for the job…

“I hate men like you; it’s like you’re drowning in your self-righteousness to the point of not seeing the truth before you,” you said, serving the plate perfectly before him. “Talks of law from you is like decomposing garbage. It stinks disgustingly.”

Jouno remained silent for a moment, brows furrowed. Then a smile broke on his face, teeth sharp as he said, “Should I praise you? It’s impressive how people like you twist everything to ignore how pathetic they are.”

As if. “If anything you’re the one in need of a reality check. Accusing the Agency when we were clearly framed.”

Jouno pushed forward, getting in your face. “So you’d like to ignore the obvious criminals among you?”

“I would like–” you shoved Jouno back, one palm pushing his chest into the wall, the other cracking up the wall beside his head even further “–the so-called best soldiers in the world focused more on protecting it. What of some petty crimes?”

“Nobody’s above the law,” Jouno said, voice laden with pride that only irked you further. Like he believed himself an uphelder of that statement. 

What a joke.

“Then prove it. As if you could. How could I know you won’t hesitate to strike at your own? How?” you prodded, searching his face for clues.

“I won’t,” Jouno whispered, grabbing onto the hand beside his head, clutching your wrist. 

“You talk a lot. All words.”

“I would love it if you’d be sweet enough to break us out of here. Then I’ll show you.” And he gripped harder, drawing a hiss from your lips.

“You enjoy tormenting people, don’t you?”

“How could I not? It’s a lovely sound.”

“Disgusting.”

You wanted to punch him. Really, you did. Not like it would lead to anything. How he reached his position was beyond you. 

“You know how I’m this good at weeding out the scum of this world? Scum like you, to be precise,” Jouno said, his fake smile turned to you. 

“How?” you bit back, mouth twisting.

“You’re so easy to predict, that’s how. Even if you hide behind your self-righteousness– you still act one and the same. I’m merely being observant.”

A thought formed in your mind. Somehow the idea of catching Jouno off guard clutched you so strongly you had to see where it led. The pressure in your chest did not subside one bit, your emotions swirling still. 

Jouno’s smile widened as your answer did not come as quickly. He was good at reading you, alright, even your heartbeat giving away everything. But if you acted fast enough… 

You felt crazed, eyes wide with something as you reached for Jouno’s head, pulling roughly at his hair until you crashed your lips against his. You swallowed the momentary shock you could feel from him as his body seized up, freezing entirely against yours.

You pulled back just as quickly, enjoying the dumbfounded expression written all over Jouno’s face.

“Oh, sorry. Weren’t you expecting that?” you mocked, revelling further in the frown that pulled at Jouno’s lips.

“No.”

He pulled you quickly against him, no warning given. Your eyes widened as his hands grabbed at your face, lips already parted as Jouno kissed you this time. 

It was all a blur from that moment on. You were pushed by pure emotions, blinking away your hesitation as you grabbed onto him. Your lips parted, inviting him in. He was all sharp edges and snide remarks, but the way Jouno kissed was filled with passion. A hunger you didn’t expect from his as he cupped your face closer, stealing your breath by the second.

Jouno bit at your lower lip, not giving you enough time to protest as he dived back in, tongue sweeping over the bruised flesh. His hands held onto you, firm around your waist as he pushed his weight against you.

Your hand remained on the wall, but not for long if this went on. 

“Not a chance, you ass,” you whispered against his ear, before shoving him right back into the wall. You swallowed the hiss that left Jouno’s lips, and you felt the sparks of power travel through your other hand, denting the cracks behind him even further. 

You smiled viciously. This might be an even better plan than earlier. After all, it worked. Might as well push a little further…

Your pulled at your shirt. You worked on your trousers as you said without looking up, “Come on.”

Jouno’s fingers drummed onyour waist. He cocked his head. “Not a conventional idea, but I’m quite adaptable,” he said before fumbling with his own belt.

Jouno seemed composed… if it wasn’t for the slowness with which he was moving. Almost hesitation as you stood up, discarding your trousers in a few quick moves. You kept your panties for modesty’s sake. Not that it stopped you from straddling Jouno’s thighs as he finally pulled at his clothes down, pretty cock strucking out and already hard.

You could feel the wetness between your thighs, but it was nothing compared to the ever growing pulsing. It’s not often you got turned on this fast, but the sight of him before you definitely furthered the process.

Jouno was stroking himself slowly, fingers deft around his shaft as he breathed hard. The red of his hair matched prettily the growing flush of his cheeks. His lips were parted, but no words were spilling as you both took in the situation you were in. 

Jouno looked very kissable at this moment, ready and waiting for your touch. 

Gosh, you wanted to kiss him til he bruised. 

So you did just that, grabbing Jouno by the shirt as you sought his warmth again. He was not far back to respond, one hand grasping at your nape, twisting your face as he wanted while his tongue moved against yours. His other moved faster over his cock, drawing small moans of pleasure from his throat. 

And here you thought he was one of the quiet ones. 

Even better, knowing now the possibilities.

Your hand went down his chest, tugging playfully at his buttons, a sneaky finger trailing in between the open spaces to graze at bare skin. Every move you made fuelled more hunger from Jouno, the kisses building in passion. 

You weren’t kidding anyone, you were about to fuck this man’s brains out, no reservations whatsoever. Keeping half a thought to your original plan was becoming even more strenuous. Pulling your panties to the side didn’t help either, nor did Jouno’s groan as you guided his tip to your entrance, smearing your wetness atop of him.

You pulled your palm to the wall, breathing deep. Jouno’s hands were already at your hips, the anticipation clear in the way he gripped at your flesh. You kissed him again, wanting to savour every moment of Jouno feeling your walls stretching for him, his pretty cock sinking deeper into your pussy as you lowered your body down.  

“Oh, this is bad,” Jouno whispered against your lips, hips already thrusting in you deep. 

“How bad?” You smiled into the kiss.

“I’m not lasting long if you feel this good already, damn you.” 

And he moved, his pace faster and faster as you tried to keep your breathing. You didn’t doubt his words one bit, your arousal easy to match to his. The obscenity of it drove you closer to your peak, not caring in the slightest how pathetic it’d look if neither of you lasted long. With the way Jouno was taking charge, firm hands keeping you in place as he thrust into you fervently–you could only clutch around him, feeling your pussy flutter with every brush of his hairs against your clit. 

It was… it was a lot. 

“Faster,” you breathed against Jouno’s ear, keeping him flush against you with one hand as the other pushed into the hard surface behind him. You couldn’t see it, but you heard the sway of stone under your ability, the sound of it growing louder with every crack. 

“Demanding,” Jouno said, but it was no complaint; he did deliver, keeping the pace you wanted all the way till your thighs started spasming, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pleasure that had you doubling down, face buried in Jouno’s neck as you tried to stifle your sounds. 

There was no need–the bellowing echo of stones falling was enough to have you shoot up, Jouno pushing you back quickly as your eyes widened at the sight of the wall crumbling away behind you. 

You could only laugh, looking at the ceiling as you lay there on the floor, Jouno atop you now. And still inside. He didn’t spare you a moment, raising your leg up for a better angle before he was fucking into you again, seeking your lips fervently. You pulled him to you, hands buried in his hair. It didn’t take long before he lost it, his high nearing by the second when–

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m–” he pulled out suddenly, his spend spilling over your belly in hot streaks as he stroked himself through it. 

Jouno was panting, eyebrows drawn as he tried to gather himself. You did not let go of him through it all, keeping his in place against you. 

You needed to get up and get up now, but the shock of what you just did was still flowing through both of your veins. A moment is all you needed.

Just… yeah. You’ll be back to saving the world, you promised yourself. Just a moment.