#before anyone says 'actually that's a cheese board with some meat on it' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elvensorceress · 2 years ago

Text

fuck it friday woooo

tagged by 💕 @ashavahishta @fiona-fififi @rogerzsteven

tagging @messyhairdiaz @monsterrae1 @babytrapperdiaz @spotsandsocks @hetrez @homerforsure @masterminddiaz @dickley-buddie @the-likesofus @ajunerose @ghosthunterbuck @megslovesbooks @eddiediazisascorpio @loveyourownsmiilee @ronordmann 💗

So, Eddie vs Feelings is now over 26K? Here’s a silly scene, a whole scene! From it -- wine night with Eddie and Karen. 😘💕

It’s Thursday and Chris is with his friends for the night because there’s no school tomorrow, Buck is visiting Maddie and Jee-Yun, and Hen and Denny are out having a bowling and one-on-one bonding night. Which is how Eddie ends up at the Wilson house with a bottle of Karen’s favorite wine.

She gives him a hug and even a kiss on his cheek when he hands it to her. They break into it immediately and catch up for a bit before they decide maybe having food with their wine would be smarter than just having wine for dinner. It’s really good wine though. Lots of plum and berry notes with heavy overtones of spices. Karen has good taste. He helps her throw together an assortment of cheese, meat, and crackers, with some grapes, apple slices, tomatoes, cucumbers, and mixed nuts to go with it.

“See, if we call it a charcuterie board, then we’re fancy grown ups,” Karen says as she sets plates for both of them on the table.

Eddie smiles and sips his probably second but maybe third glass of the Madiran cabernet. “As opposed to borderline-drunk adults who didn’t plan dinner?”

“Yes, exactly.” She grins back and makes herself a cracker sandwich with cucumber slices in between layers of meat and cheese.

Eddie does the same but adds apple and thinks of how Buck loves tart, thin slices of apple in his grilled cheese because it was how Maddie liked it and always made it for them. Because we’re nothing if not pieces from all the people we love.

When they’ve demolished a good two-thirds of their definitely planned and thought out meal, and are well into wine bottle number two, because it can’t be three? Right? That’s when Karen twirls a cucumber slice between her fingers, and asks, “You ever kissed a man, Eddie? Or thought about kissing a man?”

And it’s a funny thing. Kissing.

Putting your mouth against someone else’s. Touching lips together. Touching lips to something else. Making tongues slide around. It’s weird that people do it. And like to do it. Your lips turn all squishy and sometimes slippery. And it’s really easy to miss or bonk noses or clink teeth.

But sometimes… sometimes it’s all warm. Sometimes heat goes to his head and then he’s… swirly and wobbly. It would make his heart flutter like it might fly away.

Has anyone ever wanted his heart? Really wanted what it is and what it means and who Eddie actually is?

Sometimes, kissing doesn’t taste very good because you can taste whatever is in the other person’s mouth and Shannon loved these nasty pickle things that did not, not, not taste good. Eddie could not kiss her if she’d been eating them. Not even when it was nice kissing her.

Karen tosses her cucumber slice at him, and asks again.

Has he kissed a man before? Has he thought about it?

“No. Haven’t. I haven’t kissed…” He’s wanted to though. Hasn’t he. He’s been thinking about what it might be like. Because… because. Eddie isn’t like most men. Most men want to kiss women. He’s heard this a few times. A lot of times.

But he doesn’t think about kissing someone very often.

Although, sometimes? Buck leans in really close and tells Eddie all these silly, silly things about saying yes to absolutely, and how wheatgrass and alfalfa have so many nutritional benefits, and how there are 6,800 some natural disasters that happen worldwide every year, and seahorses will twine tails together and find each other despite difficulty swimming and having to hide from predators and it’s actually the males who give birth and the parents stay faithful partners for their whole lives.

“Seahorses fall in love, Eddie. Isn’t that sweet? They bond for life once they find each other.”

And then Eddie’s wanted that weird, funny, fluttery thing where they squish their mouths together.

It’s probably different. Kissing a man. But a kiss is a kiss? Maybe it’s not all that different. How would it taste? How would it feel? Is it different when you’re in love? Could Eddie ever know what that’s like? To kiss someone he knows for sure he’s in love with?

“You had a girlfriend for two months or something, didn’t you?” Karen asks him suddenly. As if she’s just remembered. Her forehead gets crinkled and confused.

Eddie was crinkled and confused. His head is a little foggy but he’s pretty sure it was longer than two months. Far too long.

“I didn’t buy that. At all. Ask Hen. When she told me, I swore. Swore she was lying to me. I told her. You, Hen Wilson, are lying. To your wife,” Karen’s tone is the most affronted and she’s so funny. Eddie loves being her friend. He loves that she and Hen are married and happy. It’s nice that two women can be married to each other and happy together. “But then we stalked Annnn-esthesia? Analog? Anachronism! No, no Anathema’s social media. Just a little. We found pictures she posted of both of you. And what does Denny say? Bad vibes. Those aren’t the vibes.” She hums dissent and shakes her head. “I said, that? You and Anaphylaxis? That was all wrong. Didn’t buy it. Nope.”

“I…” He looks at her, and she is a very smart scientist. Rocket scientist. She does actual rocket science. Maybe she would know. She knows all the things. “Do you think I’m…” What’s the word? What’s his question? He has so many questions. “Do you think I’m like you? But with men? Do you think I should be kissing men?”

She giggles, sips her mostly empty glass, and then frowns hard at it when she finds it without wine. “Do you think you should? I didn’t like it. Men are bad kissers. I only kissed two. But they were bad. Teenage me didn’t know. Very sad for poor teenage me.”

“I kissed a woman once. My…” What was she? Besides heart palpitations and gasping for air and chest pain and dizzy, bad, falling over, feeling faint? “My girlfriend? I guess?”

“Anamorphic,” Karen says. “Yes, her.”

“Yeah. Her. And I really didn’t like it.” Maybe because she wasn’t Shannon, but maybe because she was Ana. Maybe because she wasn’t Buck. He loved Shannon. He loves Buck. He did not love Ana.

She points at him. “You kissed a girl and didn’t like it? That’s not how the song goes. It’s a stupid song though. Obnoxious heteronormative garbage bullshit. And I know. She’s bad vibes. Bad for you. You don’t have those vibes. You should kiss men then.”

Yeah. Yeah, she really was bad for him. Panic attacks in public places were not it.

“That’s why I’ve been thinking. I have been thinking. But I don’t know. You know? What if… what if… You think I could be like you? I’ve thought— I thought. Kissing. Maybe. It would be good. Maybe it would be better with, with men. A man. What if I am…? You know?”

“What if you’re gay like me? Not exactly like me. Gay in the other way.”

What if he is gay? Could he be gay if he doesn’t know what he wants? He’s not entirely sure he knows his full name right now. His head is very sloshy. His hands are tingly. He’s nice and warm though. Like when Buck holds him. He likes when Buck holds him. “Do you think… My parents think… And fuck, was that out of left field.”

She pushes his arm. “They think what about baseball?”

He laughs and doesn’t know why. It’s all stupid. It can’t be true because wouldn’t he know? Shouldn’t he be able to tell? Maybe he just can’t say. It’s too embarrassing to say. “My dad thinks I am. He thinks I love. I’m in love. With a man. All of high school, middle school, all through that. I was scared someone might think it, scared my parents might think it. And now they think it? And they’re happy? They’re happy for me. They’re happy and they want to meet Buck.”

“Why would they want to— OH! Oh, you love Buck! You want to kiss Buck! I knew you did. Hen and Howie-Chim tried to say you didn’t. They tried to say, they spend all this time with you two, and nothing ever happens, and they know you better. They tried to say I was wrong. Although, they might have been fucking with me just because. Chimney would do that. But I’m not wrong! They were wrong. And I knew it.” She nods fervently and points to herself.

Eddie’s heart trips and stumbles and it must be drunk, too. But Karen would know. She would have to know. Not that Eddie doesn’t know. He would kiss Buck. He loves Buck. Does that mean he’s in love with Buck? Is that one plus one is two? “You think… you think so? Is that… does that mean I’m in love with him?”

“Do you want to kiss him? Do you want to love him?”

“Do I want to…” Is that it? Is that what it boils down to? Being in love is wanting to love him? Of course he wants to love Buck. He wants to give Buck all the love in the world because it’s been overflowing and growing and it’s too much to keep inside his chest. And Buck deserves to have every ounce of love.

It would be good to kiss him. His lips look soft and pretty. He likes to put on this vanilla lip balm because he says it smells and tastes like cake, and then Eddie tells him not to eat his chapstick because that’s not good, and it makes Buck roll his pretty blue eyes and smile like sunshine and he’s so, so beautiful when he smiles. He’s so beautiful when he does anything.

It’s probably stupid that Eddie ever questioned it. How could he not be in love with Buck? He does nothing but think about him and talk about him and want to be around him when they’re not around each other. And it’s nothing like how he’s always thinking of Chris and his family and friends. Buck’s always been in a different category. Maybe that’s why there has never been a word, a noun, a thing that encompasses everything they are.

Partner has always been closest. Because it means more. It means colleague and coworker, ally and teammate, accomplice, companion, significant other, committed for life, long-term lover, other half, co-parent, and spouse. Everything and more.

There’s too much wine in his system. Too much of something in his system. Can you drown in it? Does it make you overly intoxicated? Are you blind and stupid and obsessive and reckless? Do you forget things you should know? Do you want more than you should? Do you fly too far and feel too much?

He feels too much.

They’ve been doing most things together again. Like quarantine. They have dinner and breakfast together with Christopher. They went to the grocery store and bought everything together the last at least twenty-three times they had to get groceries. Buck brings over his laundry so they can wash all their clothes together and Buck doesn’t have to use the bad machines in his building or go to a laundromat for clean clothes. Buck has long legs and strong arms and he will wrap Eddie in all of them while they sleep.

They probably shouldn’t do that many things together. This is why he feels too much.

“It’ll stop, right?” He asks quietly. “It’ll go away? I won’t always…”

Sorrow washes over Karen’s face. “What do you mean? Why would you want—”

The alcohol is still there, still too hot and fuzzy, but he’s suddenly a thousand times more sober. “He doesn’t. It’s not. Not mutual. It’s not… requited? I’m just, I’m his friend. We’re just. We aren’t anything else. We can’t be. But feelings don’t last. Right? I think I heard that. It won’t last?”

He doesn’t know how to make it stop because how did it even start? Maybe time is the only thing that can stop it. Eventually, Buck will find someone he does want. Buck isn’t going to be single forever. He’s kind and silly and funny and he loves kids and he wants to take care of people and help everyone. He’s always there when you need him. He protects the things that mean the most to you. He’ll dive into wreckage to pull you out. He’ll throw himself into gunfire to save you.

He… he’s the most loving, caring, beautiful person. He’s the best partner. In every single version of the word. There’s no one Eddie would rather raise a child with. There’s no one he’d rather have a family with. There’s no one he’d rather share the rest of his life with.

Maybe. Eddie just has to live with it. Maybe it won’t stop. He won’t always think of it. It’ll just be there, like anything else, and maybe it’ll hurt for a while. But pain isn’t forever.

Karen takes his hand and squeezes. “I love you. Do you know that? Because I do. Hen does, too. She loves you.”

He breathes slowly and squeezes back. “I love you, too.”

“Hey, no matter what, at least you know now. You are like me. In reverse. At least for one man. I knew you were. You have the queer vibes.”

Well. It is something. It doesn’t make everything clear, but being in love with a man at least means something.

He’s in love. He is in love. Like his parents think. Like Karen thinks.

This is what in love feels like. Like too much wine and not enough time and drowning and flying and crashing and wanting.

He’s not sure he likes wanting. There’s a lot of missing, aching, lacking, and it’s too hopeless.

Is it hopeless?

#buddie #jenwyn fic #fic: eddie vs the feelings #fuck it friday #buddie fic

79 notes · View notes

obeymeluv · 4 years ago

Text

“I Got All A’s! Can I Have Some Dick?” (Bros + Undateables)

Just something stupid and funny I thought about. You had a very tough semester in the Devildom and you got good grades! You want to celebrate and go to your favorite demon to ask for a special reward.

Obvious NSFW warning. No minors allowed!

No Luke. Luke is baby.

I have a personal headcanon that Simeon likes to be totally cozy when he writes. We’re talking big fluffy sweaters or a blanket cozy. I like to think he wears glasses when he writes, too.

Lucifer

He’s part of a special committee who’s notified about your grades/progress so he actually knows before you do

Proud boyfriend is proud

Purrs when he opens up the wax-pressed envelope and reviews your marks

Secretly plans a cute, fancy dinner date at Ristorante Six

Is thinking of being suave and breaking the news to you when you bounce into his study (he may or may not have poured a couple of glasses of your favorite age-appropriate beverage)

He’s got something witty prepped and is ready to toast you and maybe steal a few kisses but you come out of left field like a bullet with a simple “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Lucifer.exe is broken

That’s what you want as a reward? No dinner, no date?

Literally doesn’t know what to say for a few seconds. Totally freezes. Starts to stutter.

His brain kicks back in when you start playing with the folds of his collar and petting his chest and staring at him with those wanting eyes

Sets his glass down, fixes the cuff of his gloves, and hoists you up to plant you on the nearest surface. “I will make it worth every point, and you will say all the letters.” he purrs.

Mammon

He’s just happy he passed.

Mammon actually does pretty well, he’s just a very...chaotically successful type. A lot of last minute turn-ins and such. Not top marks, but no dunce either.

Now that the semester’s over he’s checking his schedule to see when the next shoot is or if he has time to squeeze in a party. Maybe a trip somewhere. Something fun!

He’s feeling lucky! Lucky enough to win some money and make Goldie happy!

If he’s going anywhere, he needs a good luck charm though! He goes to hunt you down and his stomach just warms because you’re smiling and clearly in a good mood

It makes him purr in that cute, curious little way. Basically using the demon’s language to ask you why you’re in such a good mood (but you don’t know that. It’s basically a cute chirp).

You both shout your good news at the same time.

His invite to go tear it up was a bit long so it takes a minute for his brain to process what you said. You want...his dick?

Boy wants to blush SO BAD. HE’S SO RED!

Well now his thing seems stupid, doesn’t it? He wants to do your thing! Your thing sounds GREAT!

“OF COURSE you want to be with the GREAT Mammon!” he’s got his hands on his hips and his chest is puffed out big in that happy, silly way he has about him.

No, really, you do your thing. It’s a great thing.

It’s a good way to unwind from exams, right? He likes it!

Levi

If Levi didn’t get good grades, Lucifer would kill him.

Probably force him to go to school physically ALL THE TIME!

HIS SUBSCRIPTIONS WOULD BE AT RISK,OKAY?

He’s a solid B student (at least). No desire to be all A’s. Too much time away from other passions.

Because he’s well-behaved and leas likely to get on Lucifer’s nerves, he gets a little bit of bonus money for good grades.

Levi’s neck-deep in his charts and comparisons and muttering to himself about where to invest that money when you pop into his room

“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?!”

You get The Noise

How indecent! How naughty of you to ask! But yes, yes you can. Absolutely. 100%!

He’s really shy about it because it’s sudden and you asked him instead of him having a cool moment or anything, but it ends up being a giggle-filled romp that ends with a cuddle in his bathtub bed and you wrapped up in his tail

He totally suggests a round two with a sexy VR game or just making bets with ‘winner take all’

Satan

He’s a grade juggernaut with lots of self-discipline so Satan expects to get out what he gets in

The type to be smug because he knows he did well. He owes it to himself and he’s glad.

Likes to treat himself to an outing, be it a simple walk or a visit to a cafe or even a new book

Satan’s 100% ready to settle down with some books by the fireplace. At the end of the semester he typically makes a one or two-portion charcuterie board and picks at it while he reads

Thumb keeping his place, Satan’s in the middle of stacking a fancy little cracker with meat and cheese when you let yourself in

His eyes flick to you and he smiles, eating his little cracker

You pick at his tray with him (he’ll let you, of course). “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Chokes on cracker. It’s not a good time

Almost drowns himself/further chokes trying to wash it down with drink

Can’t help but laugh at your...bold request

When he sees he’s kind of sputtered all over himself, he slips out of his clothes and makes a few witty jokes as your ‘naked butler’

Naked butler happily provides his services

Later he makes you picked crushed cracker off the floor with him

Asmo

The second Asmo knew he passed everything (like he always does. Just because he’s pretty doesn’t mean he’s stupid!), he booked himself a full day pampering experience

His inner circle of beauty specialist know his routine so they save his spots for him

Asmo sweet-talked them into including his favorite human and he’s DYING to tell you and DYING to make his brothers jealous

You skip into his room, so bright and lovely, and hold his hands in the cute excited way he likes. Makes his heart skip a beat every time like it’s young love.

“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Doesn’t expect it and has probably never been asked ‘Can I have some dick?’ in the thousands of years he’s been alive

Boy gives an airy laugh because he’s surprised and flattered. Of COURSE you want him (because who wouldn’t?) but he always gets a bit shy when it’s YOU asking

“Sounds amazing,” he’s already peppering you with kisses, “and I’m happy to provide but can we do it after our special spa day?”

You guys have a sweet, lazy round the day of the booking to ‘loosen up’ and ‘fully appreciate the services’ and he DEFINITELY worships you when all is said and done because ‘the epitome of beauty deserve the epitome of devotion’

Beel

Boy works hard and celebrates even harder. Usually with food

Because he’s always hungry and looking forward to eating, Beel likes to do his work ahead of time. The sooner he does it, the more time he has to eat!

He has to keep up good grades to stay on the sports teams, anyways

Solid B student, sometimes A’s. C’s and below aren’t a thing. He refuses.

Because he is also best boy and generally acts as Lucifer’s pseudo-enforcer, he also gets some bonus money.

The coach of his local sports team also pitches in because Beel is best boy and a TANK. He could literally carry the whole team

Beel’s all set to hit the town with his food money when find him and wrap your arms around him

He’s all excited and ready to tell you about the food money when you make his face catch fire. “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Brain also stops. BEEL IS SO EMBARRASSED!

You’d rather have him than food? That’s pretty impressive! He’s honored!

But...what if you could have both? He’s totally down for both!

You celebrate your success by staying in (bed) and spoiling yourselves with food in-between rounds

Belphie

Belphie is a ‘C’s get degrees’ kind of guy but C’s are his minimum. Tries for B’s and usually gets mid-to-low B’s.

With exams over he’s 100% down to sleep the day away and there’s NO REASON for ANYONE TO BUG HIM ABOUT IT!

Totally prepared to live in his finest pyjamas until school starts again. Might even treat himself to a new pillow or blanket!

If he hadn’t learned your scent by now, you wouldn’t have a face when you breach his blanket cocoon

Belphie just snorts and smiles at your little face and messy hair (the blankets give it static and mess it up)

You kiss his nose and wait to make sure he’s really awake before sharing the good news. “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Laughs himself to the point of almost choking on one of his blankets

Throws himself out of the cocoon to breathe and wipe his tears away

But yes, yes you can. After he calms down, he pulls you onto his lap to straddle him.

It’s fun and lazy but a genuine celebration of the end of the semester

Diavolo

He’s the other part of the committee that saw your grades, so he knows

It’s a bit off his plate so he won’t have as many duties to attend to

Diavolo wasn’t sure when you’d come over, but Barbatos assured him you’d be over that day. He did his best to speed through his meetings and arrange his schedule to have a rest period

He asked Barbatos to prepare a small, modest lunch of finger foods and some complimentary tea

You may have thought Diavolo was making himself a plate when you walked in, but it was actually a plate for you

The prince of the Devildom almost dropped that plate when you said, “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Prince of Hell is super blushy and flustered and awkward and almost knocks his teacup off the table. Is suddenly scrambling to make sure he doesn’t know anything else off the table

Tries to compose himself but can’t help the boyish smile and laugh that escapes him

You’re just such a lovely, fascinating person! He’s so happy to have you. His life seems eternal but you make it so fresh and new! His heart just bursts with love and delight.

Is no longer worried about the food or pushing in your chair for you. Offers his lap instead. “I have an opening for that,” he assures, pulling you onto his lap.

Diavolo likes to think he’s thoughtful about taking you on the floor because Barbatos doesn’t have much to clean up.

If your stomach grumbles after you’re settled and sleepy, he pulls himself off your body long enough to grab a plate from the table and put it beside your head.

Demons have more stamina and it would be un-princely of him not to spoil you, so he feeds you until you’re too sleepy to eat.

Barbatos

It’s exhausting to be able to see multiple timelines and see into the future.

He never knows how far into the future he’s seeing, or if it’s in the timeline he’s currently in

All he knows is he heard you ask him for dick and almost dumped the wrong thing in the soup, okay?

Had to excuse himself and ask someone on the cooking team to take over for him while he “dealt with another matter” (laughed it out where no one could hear him)

I’m not sure if Barbatos is considered a student at RAD, but Diavolo must be too. We’ll say he is. Boy is a master of self-discipline and scheduling so he’s fine. Flawless, as a butler should be. It carries over into all things.

It’s a delicate balance sometimes, but he’s type A and used to being busy so it works itself out. He does well.

Barbatos simply looks forward to having less to do. Focusing on Diavolo can be a job all its own.

He was planning on making a few sweets for Luke and the others. Diavolo suggested a “pot luck” to celebrate. It’s something the humans came up with and he seems to like it. It turns into sweets for the pot luck

Probably makes you a special mini-dessert or a special portion of the dessert

If he’s in control of plate presentation, you might get a special sauce heart of chocolate heart

When Diavolo is generous enough to include him in the celebration (because he deserves it and you’re there, so it’d be cruel not to), Barbatos makes small talk and woos you subtly

You ask him to “show you where to take the dishes” to get him alone. He can feel it in his little demon bones. You’re about to do it.

You do it.

You’re basically vibrating with excitement because you probably planned this and think you’re very clever. Human enthusiasm is so darling and it makes his heart pitter-patter to think you were simply bursting to ask HIM this.

“But of course,” he helps you stack the plates and guides your hand to the silverware sorter because you’re looking at him instead of what you’re doing. You almost put a fork in the spoon section. “Covered in chocolate? Plain?”

He’s trying to one-up you. He loves seeing his human change colors and not know what to do.

You whisper “I prefer wet,” back in his ear and Barbatos wonders how he didn’t see THAT in any of his visions

You: 1, Barbatos: 0. Helpless. Defenseless. Horny.

“That will be ready shortly,” he’s already pulling you away, down the hall, to meet your request.

Solomon

It wouldn’t serve him to do poorly in the Devildom. Basically wasted opportunity

He’s not a straight A student but he does well. Really pulls out the stops on major projects and things that are worth more points than others

Isn’t perfect at everything but makes up for it. Solid B’s, always really close to A’s. At least a couple low A’s.

Solomon doesn’t quite know how he wants to celebrate. He knows Asmo’s already pestering him to go shopping or clubbing

He’s considering it. He’d like to drink, honestly

You show up, light of his life, his favorite person, and he feels himself warm with joy

He revels in being the only other human in the Devildom. It makes your relationship that much more special, he thinks. It’s kind of stupid, but it’s something to coyly hold over the others whenever he sees fit. All in play, of course (not).

“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Pretends to think and looks anywhere but your face. If he looks at your face he’ll blush himself stupid and won’t be able to say anything smart.

He can’t lie. He’s already hard. He appreciates humor and wit and you’re all of it.

Very bold of you to come onto him like that, and he’s 100% for it.

“Can you take it?” Solomon wishes he said something smoother, that he wasn’t already slipping between your legs and grinding against you like the weak man he was. He doesn’t regret it though because the friction is good. Something you both need.

He whispers against your skin and gives you light, sloppy kisses with a hint of teeth.

He gives, and he’s generous. He wants to reward your efforts.

Simeon

Simeon makes it a point of personal pride to do well in the Devildom

That’s the utmost symbol of peace and understanding, isn’t it? To embrace their culture and livelihood and do well? To do well means he’s understanding them and walking in their shoes. It’s only right

He works hard and does well. Doesn’t stress himself out with A’s since he’s keeping up his grades because it’s required. He’d rather reconnect with the brothers and try to help Luke enjoy the Devildom.

He’s happy to spend his free time taking Luke to places in the Devildom, trying to visit the House of Lamentation, and maybe working on some things for TSL since editors are clamoring for more

You stop by because he’s been fairly quiet, wrapped up in his favorite writing sweater with his little editing glasses on

Simeon smiles and greets you with his little ‘Hi, angel’ as he kisses your hand.

Boy almost breaks his favorite pen when you ask him for...for dick?

He’s not absolutely clueless but this boy has been in ‘holy angel’ mode for centuries. He struggles with texting and stickers and you expect him to know slang?!

So confused he takes his glasses off. Boy can’t comprehend

“You’re asking me to procure one? Like...the ones humans use from those stores? You want mine? Well, I certainly hope so because we’re--oh...”

He could write books of poetry about you, and though he doesn’t like to admit it, he’s had those thoughts

“Well,” he’s standing up from his chair and guides you so gently to his bed it’s like you’re floating on a cloud. He lays you down just as gently, fabrics whispering as he slips out of his sweater and it pools at his feet. “I wouldn’t be a very good angel if I ignored the wishes of my dear human, would I?”

Doesn’t really see the point of sex as a reward, but will never turn down a moment to show how cherished you are.

Hope you liked it :)

#Obey me!#Obey me! x Reader #Obey me x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Levi x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Satan x Reader #Asmodeus x Reader #Asmo x Reader #Beel x Reader #Beelzebub x Reader #Belphie x Reader #belphegor x reader #Simeon x Reader #Diavolo x Reader #Barbatos x Reader #Solomon x Reader

4K notes · View notes

katsukikitten · 3 years ago

Text

FRIENDSGIVING HEADCANON

Aight so friendsgiving is something the heroes decide to keep a tradition of after they all had to quarantine together during the height of the pandemic.

They have it whenever all of them can meet up. Sometimes it's actually on thanksgiving and other times it's a day or two before or after.

This got long so please look under the cut

Momo has the biggest house so she always hosts, insisting on catering the event but that pisses Bakugou off more than he'd care to admit so instead he barks "How the fuck is that thanksgiving? We gotta cook." Little does he know that if he doesn't assign people an entre or a side to bring it quickly becomes far too similar to an unorganized office potluck with a lot of food but nothing to eat.

He makes denki make the Mac and cheese and every year without fail Kaminari almost drops the decadent dish in the flimsy foil pan until Bakugou buys him "proper fucking cookware" he's hoping this year Kaminari's nerves won't glitch out causing his fingers to drop the only thing of his that anyone can stomach.

Sato brings the rolls, homemade rolls, and butter of all sorts he always makes a chocolate cake too leaving the pies up to Uraraka and Tsu as its a heavy debate if sweet potato or pumpkin is better. Jiro makes these killer stuffing balls, they're like stuffing but in the shape of a huge ball, the outside is the right amount of crunch and the inside is anything but mushy.

Momo is in charge of the pre dinner snacks. Everyone comes over early to watch the day parade and Momo insists on several pre dinner snacks. A cranberry brie dip, a charcuterie board filled with fine meats and cheeses, an array of all sorts of tea and lastly a heavenly homemade sangria. Ojiro and his new wife Toru bring a mean broccoli salad to add to the pre dinner snack.

Tokoyami makes the BEST mashed potatoes hands down. He leaves just the right amount of skin and mashes them just right (not lumpy but not whipped either) they are buttery and so full of flavor that the turkey gravy elevates you and the potato into heaven.

Kirishima oddly enough makes yams with the little marshmallows on top. The yams are to die for and he always has to make an extra pan so Mrs. Bakugou can have some.

Izuku makes the green been casserole and he is not shy about the onion straws on top. For a vegetable that pan sure as hell empties quick.

Mina brings the cornbread and collards. The cornbread is in cast iron skillets and it's so damn good, everyone drools just thinking about it.

Mineta brings the drinks, he admits he isn't the best at cooking but damn if he doesn't provide. Any soda, beer, wine you can think of he finds. He even somehow found a gallon of milk Thanksgiving day on year. Since then everyone put him on beverage detail.

Naturally Bakugou handles the turkey. It's perfect every fucking year. He makes ham too and that hunk of pork has people fighting over the last slice. Every year the comment he should open a seasonal restaurant and sell them and he says "fuck off I ain't sellin out" but everyone reads between the lines and hears I only want to share this with yall. He is also careful to create a vegan faux turkey dish and gravy with Koda in mind.

Koda makes a fine salad, every year it's a new recipe and every year is better than the last. Ida brings this weird dish, maple bacon brussel sprouts. Everyone was leery over it at first but once they had a bite they couldn't RESIST. they drop hints that he better be bringing it to the dinner. Shoji makes the cranberry sauce, homemade and brings one canned sauce because Kaminari insists it taste better as a disk. Aoyama outdoes himself every year, with a delicate sweet yet tart apple pie where the crust is in the shape of a deliciously flaky rose.

Shoto brings an ice box cake, one his mom has passed down for years and finally had the chance to teach him. He also brings cold soba every year and every year Bakugou questions both Shoto's taste buds and capabilities as a hero.

All and all this young group of adults that feel as if they are rapidly aging look forward to the event every year. Everyone comes through the door with a big smile and a tight hug because thankfully they have all lived through another year.

#for onyx my one true fan 😂#bnha thanksgiving #bnha headcannons #bnha imagine

39 notes · View notes

that-blue-vault-dweller · 3 years ago

Note

Companions react to Nora saying random crazy thing at seemingly nobody. She will say things like “You Half Baked Potato!!”“You Vegan Meat! “Unwise Breakfast!!” When she is sad she will mutter “oh my cheddar cheese” “I love you my housefly When she is in combat she will scream “Steam those waffles!!”“Imma gonna put some ketchup on those fries!!”When she is asked why she does this she says that when she was sad he husband would cheer her up by saying these and she hopes that he will respond to her

Aww, this is absolutely adorable!!! 🥺

I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request!!! 💙💛

Cait - Thinks that calling people a "soiled onion ring" is the dumbest thing that she has ever heard. She has no idea why F!Sole is saying such bizarre things so unexpectedly. But when she finds out that F!Sole's husband said these things and she's hoping for a response, she is completely bewildered and somewhat embarrassed by her personal thoughts. She is just thankful that she never said anything about her feelings before. She ends up shouting strange insults herself in an attempt to make F!Sole smile at least a little. Granted, Cait calling people a "smelly omelet" is a little odd, but she's got the spirit.

Piper - Honestly is not quite sure what to think when F!Sole starts battle and immediately says that she's going to "steam those waffles." But Piper goes with it. After all, her Blue seems to be pretty enthusiastic about it, so that's good enough for her. However, when she figures out that F!Sole's husband used to say those things to cheer her up, Piper suddenly realizes just how important these saying are. Therefore, next time that they start a battle, before F!Sole can say anything at all, Piper yells at the top of her lungs, "Time to bake the biscuits!!!" This, of course, earns a giant grin from F!Sole. Her husband may never be there to respond, but Piper's definitely going to reply whenever she can.

Curie - Thinks it is extremely odd, and she finds the behavior to be stranger than any that she has ever observed. She does not question it, and overall just goes with it. She actually even takes up some of F!Sole's insults since they are so vanilla and free of any cussing. When F!Sole finally ends up telling her that her husband did this to cheer F!Sole up and make her happy and F!Sole has been hoping for him to respond, Curie is quite surprised and she apologizes, asking if she should not have responded to it herself. F!Sole assures her that it is fine and she knows he's not coming back. She also assures her that she loves for Curie to do it since it gives her some comradery and helps her cope with his loss. Therefore, after that, Curie tears out with a new vigor about the entire ordeal, and even thinks of a few new insults that F!Sole uses. After all, calling raiders "a sour batch of unpasteurized milk" is just too good to pass up.

MacCready - Thinks it is weird at first, but he does see the merit in it. It helps him keep from saying worse words that he promised Duncan he wouldn't say. So he clings onto her tradition and uses it himself whether she prompts the entire thing or not. But when she tells him that her husband did it and she hoped for a response from him, MacCready clams up and is scared to say the stuff anymore for fear that he's intruding on something that is special between F!Sole and her husband. However, she soon tells him that she wants him to keep going with it since they are keeping a piece of her husband alive with their use of it. So he just says "okey-dokey, steaming artichokey" and rolls with it.

Deacon - Is one hundred percent on board with it. He thinks it is absolutely awesome to call people "Vegan Meat" and he is thinking of even more insults and battle cries every chance that he gets. When she finally says that this was a way her husband made her feel better about things and that she is saying it with the hope of her husband's reply, he feels quite awkward. But he quickly recovers and tells her to "cheer up, little housefly." The comment makes her happier, and she finds it quite entertaining when he thinks of stuff like that on his own. They soon become a dynamic duo in spurting random word combos and driving Glory and anyone else around crazy with them. They especially love to confuse P.A.M. and Desdemona has repeatedly told them to leave her alone or they're going to be finding a new replacement P.A.M. all by themselves.

Codsworth - Immediately recognizes what she's doing. He remembers how sir used to say these sorts of things to her just to earn a smile from her. When she admits that she is saying them in hopes of garnering a response from the man, Codsworth feels quite terrible for her. He thinks hard for a moment, and he soon tells her, "Cheer up, my dear mozzarella mistress." He doesn't know much about what he's doing with the nicknames, but it makes her laugh a little, so he considers it a win. He will now proceed to say these sorts of things when she is sad in an attempt to at least bring a remnant of the comfort of sir back to her.

Hancock - Just raises an eyebrow and mentally wonders why she doesn't just cuss out her enemies. He's pretty sure that they're not going to take her seriously if she keeps calling them things like "Moldy Burrito." Soon enough, he figures out that her husband said those things to make her laugh and that she wants her husband to reply. Therefore, he resolves to defend her if anyone dares to make fun of her for her odd words.

Danse - At first thinks that she has been exposed to way too much radiation. He soon asks her if she is alright and if she needs to sit down for a little while. She responds, explaining that she's fine and she was just hoping her husband would respond since he used to say stuff like that to make her feel better. He is immediately completely at a loss as to what to do, so he just holds her in his arms. He resolves to try to reply to her so that she does not spend all of her time waiting on a response from someone that will never give one. While "greasy suit of power armor" and "dusty, musty uniform" is not too insulting, he does the best he can, and F!Sole appreciates his attempts. He almost never says them, but when he notices that she's having a bad day, he pulls them out.

Preston - Just sort of laughs it off at first. It is a little weird but he gives her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that was something normal from her time. But when she explains the true meaning behind it and says she is hoping for her husband to reply, he is baffled. He before long starts to try to think of something to say that relates to her strange little words. He ends up placing an arm around her and calls her a "kind potato crisp." It is a pretty bad use of the words, but F!Sole appreciates the thought behind it.

Valentine - Thinks its adorable even if it is a little odd, so he just lets it go and lets her do as she wants and continue calling people strange names. However, when she informs him that she is doing it and hopes that her husband will respond to her, he offers her a big hug and they have a long talk about things and what her and her husband used to do together. When they've finished their talk, he tells her "Chin up, green pea."

X6-88 - Thinks that she needs some sort of psychiatric help or a good long nap when he first hears her call someone a "half-baked potato." She quickly assures him that she is alright and that her husband used to say this sort of thing to cheer her up and she hopes he'll reply one day. At that point he just stares at her as if she has lost her mind for sure. However, after a very, very long moment and after ensuring no one except her is around, he finally says, "Do not be depressed, frozen TV dinner."

Dogmeat - Likes how full of gusto she is when she shouts, so he barks along to emphasize her words. However, he does notice how she is quiet for a moment afterward and quickly seems very disappointed when she hears silence. So he whimpers a little and licks her hand, pressing his nose to her palm. He does his best to make her feel happier in these times of sadness.

Strong - Is even more confused than usual and he cannot even be angry because he is so bumfuzzled. He often wonders what exactly is an "Unwise Breakfast." When she explains that she hopes for her husband to answer her when she says these strange things, he grows irritated and tells her that he's dead and when human or super-mutant is dead, then they don't say anything at all.

82 notes · View notes

wisteria-lodge · 3 years ago

Text

snake primary (lion model?) + snake secondary (rapid fire bird model)

I am pretty sure I am a snake/snake sorting, with my primary (burned snake) as a rock solid certainty. I am not doing so well on figuring out how models work, and if I have them. It makes me doubt my secondary sometimes. Let me give you a few examples:

Last autumn, I was making a lot of soup from scratch. I started with recipes, but pretty soon I was just throwing things together.

Definitely sounds like an improvisational secondary.

(I'm a Badger secondary, and my baker friends make fun of me, because I treat recipes like spells I follow them so exactly. I only recently learned that the reason you put put in salt in water is to make it boil faster. I'd been doing it, but I might as well have been putting it in there to banish the bad spirits.)

But I always made sure I had some kind of home-made broth to hand, and some kind of soup magic stuff (heavy cream, milk, cream cheese, etc.)

This could be rapid-fire bird (or a rapid-fire bird model.) You feel comfortable improvising, but only because you already know a lot about soup.

I only went back to recipes when I wanted something new or specific. Then I went and posted a kind of improv instruction for soup making (take some meat, any meat, sear it and and pair with some veggies, any veggies, etc.).

So far, I'm agreeing with you. Improvisational secondary, maybe some kind of bird model to give extra structure and support.

I train new colleagues. When I start with a new group, I like to have all the prep-work done so I can concentrate on the social aspects and not get bogged down finding the right worksheets, or shit like that. I plan my first few words, and if there is no better opening, I use them and go from there. I have a general structure of what I want to teach them, what methods to use and in what order. It is adapted from experience, and the more rigid guidelines we are given by our client. I am constantly tweaking it when I'm not training. If I feel my group needs something different, I will abandon the plan, let them guide me on a detour, and bring them back when it feels right. Somehow, it still works out 95% of the time, especially now that I have found my confidence and know it works^^

This sounds exactly like how I teach. And for me, what is going on is the bird model prepwork making me comfortable enough to just vanish into my Courtier Badger. I've only recently been learning that I can... relax on the prep, a little. That sometimes too much prep gets me in my head, and sabotages me a little. Like I can just trust myself in the moment, and things work out just fine.

I have found the shc system a week ago, and I have been obsessed ever since. I got curious because a friend mentioned it. They were really into it, and I like sorting people if the system makes sense. I dug in, got hooked, and finally found words to describe everything I had figured out so painfully about myself in the last few years. Especially my snake primary was such a surprise and relief, let me tell you.

It's a good system. And it's... uniquely able to talk about certain kinds of things.

I am thinking there is at least some sort of bird model here, giving my improv some structure?

Took the words out of my mouth.

I was flirting with rapid fire bird as a secondary, but now I have put it into words, not a chance. I like my (contained) chaos too much^^

So far, I don't have too much to add. It's all very well laid out, and well understood. I do like the dramatic structure that happens when someone writes in convinced their a Lion and I start going into why they're actually a Snake but hey. This is nice. This is mellow.

Let's talk about badger secondary model instead. Just to get the elephant out of the room: I hate hard work, it feels slow, dull, and like there should be a better method somewhere. But I know that sometimes, you just have to do it if you want to build a reputation, or you know you need to rely on the goodwill of your community in the future.

This is so like... Rapid-fire bird processing Badger. Just the grudging respect of SURE badger secondary can be a useful tool I GUESS.

I feel awkward keeping shallow contact with my colleagues, I forget if they have kids, and I have been experimenting with discreetly taking notes on what they value.

This is so Bird.

It's not very successful because I can never remember them when it's necessary, so I nod and figure it out by asking "knowing seeming" questions, anyway.

This is so Snake.

What does resonate with me is the part of "becoming what they need" making myself into the tool I need, making myself seem reliable by being relatable. I mostly start a one-on-one conversation by mirroring the other person's mood.

Courtier Badger and Snake secondary can look very, very similar - especially from the outside. This right here could be a description of either.

It is only recently, and only with people I know well, that I have found the seductive power of railroading them instead. I can now cut short a friends whining by summarising what they're saying in a blunt and charming manner, and make them smile instead. Not always, but now I know it works, I use it more and more often.

... but this could only be Snake. Doing this sort of thing consciously and on purpose is so huge and so key. Courtier Badgers do have to believe it, and so they have a way of vanishing that Snake secondaries don't.

And I think I am exaggerating my "go and figure shc out, and be loud and open about it on tumblr" part, because it's what feels right at the moment, but also because the friend who got me into it is a burned lion secondary. They like me charging in, taking it for myself, and they admire anyone who can be honest and vulnerable in public.

Very Double Snake. Using a specific approach, specifically for your friend. Also you say your primary is burned... but I'm not getting burned primary from you. But you're also not really writing about your primary, so.

I guess I am making myself appealing, not just relatable like before.

What a perfect way of describing the difference between Snake and Badger secondaries.

Huh. Fading badger performance as snake gets confident? With another badger performance for work that I do grudgingly.

Performance is right. Just a shallow thing you wear over the top, that barely seems there anymore. You work like Bird, not a Badger.

Now lion. Well, lion is... difficult and easy at the same time? I have to take charge, be the boss, and make split-second, straightforward right-and-wrong decisions when I am leading my group: Call out anyone who doesn't play by the rules (though I usually don't care much if it is not annoying). Decide on, and hand out, the appropriate punishment for someone being late, again. Deal with brewing conflict in a head-on manner. But that is something I am still learning, and I am not very good at it.

Some of this is primary stuff - WHAT you do "be the boss, hand out punishments" versus HOW you do it. It's sounds to me like you're building a Lion primary model over your Snake primary, which is normal. Snakes with safe people almost always model something else. (And I already know you've got a friend that's a Lion primary... Snakes do like to match their People.)

It's possible that you're also building a Lion secondary model, or that one of your Snake secondary masks looks a little like a typical lion secondary, but my take is that most of this is coming from a primary model.

I tend to let conflicts slide, trusting they will work it out among themselves.

I feel that this speaks to the water-like nature of the Snake secondary, and a desire to always go around the problem.

or at least be professional about it and not bring it into the training. Definitely a lion performance here, and one I get frustrated with fast because I am not very good at it.

I have my lion moments, like I described with my way of being open and vulnerable about shc here on tumblr. But I wouldn't do it if it didn't feel right, or more specifically like something I need to heal and get better. I know I need to be vulnerable to heal, and it's relatively safe here, in the anonymity of my internet persona.

Hmm. Interesting. I'm not getting Lion from you... if this is a healing exercise, maybe you're practicing existing in your Neutral state?

I have to write it all out, and some of it just happen to come out as advice for other people's asks. It would be nice if I get some recognition for it in the community, and I love the fact that my friends reads it and tells me they like it.

My take on that sort of thing is going to be annoyingly Badger, so I apologize in advance. For me it's all about consistency. Lay a foundation and then build, one brick at a time.

Now that I have written it all out, I think it's probably the most snake way of arguing myself out of any secondary model I could come up with^^ I guess I don't have one, or if I do, I am dismantling it because I need things to be simple for a while. I am tempted to post this on my own blog, but I know it will get a bigger audience with you.

Yeah, no Lion secondary here.

and maybe help someone in a similar situation. So I will be patient, and I thank you for inviting us all to use you as a sounding board for our own shc issues. I have to stop going through your likes, I'm ruining my obsessive fangirl/shc vibes tumblr with beautiful rl-things and creative human interactions^^

I do what I can. I hope I help. :)

Thankyou, @sevilemar for the submission.

#sortinghatchats #sortme #double snake #snakepri #snakesec #rapid fire bird #lion primary model

23 notes · View notes

velvetmel0n · 4 years ago

Text

Jasmine Sambac

Summary: You decide to surprise your sugar daddy when he has a late night at work

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 9k+. Don’t look at me like that.

Warnings: Sugar daddy!Cassian/sugar baby relationship, age gap probably? don’t worry Reader is at least somewhere in her early/mid twenties it’s fine, spanking, it’s Cassian but with Félix’s hair, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, little bit of dom!Cassian, mutual pining, unrequited (or is it?) love, bit of cum play, the old trenchcoat surprise lingerie trick, unspecified job titles, rough sex, angst if you squint, exactly ONE instance of daddy kink because c’mon he’s a sugar daddy I had to

A/N: If you’ve been wondering where I’ve been the last few days, this fic has consumed my life.

@damerondjarin @okay-hotshot @poeticandors @tintinwrites @darksideofclarke @acomplicatedprofession @lesqui @himbopoes @winters-buck @duamuteffe @ah-callie @paniclana @huliabitch @yougottakeeponkeepinon @halfwaythereroyal @leahsafae @myguysbsmokin @qveenbvtch @queenofheavenandhell @pascalispedro @agentpike @arcadianempress @beskars @slfreya full disclosure I have no idea who to tag for this

Your cell phone is mocking you.

It’s sitting on the stool you had dragged into your tiny bathroom and it’s been glaringly silent the entire time you’ve soaked in your small bathtub. The water has gone tepid at this point and the ache in your legs from being on your feet all day has faded away, clouds of Epsom salt-scented steam are still hanging in the air and your cell phone is silent.

It had barely been a week since you’d last seen him and already you feel yourself missing him, an almost physical ache that manifested somewhere in the first days without him and it’s stayed with you— you miss his touch, the sound of his voice. You even miss the smell of his cologne and how it rubs off on you, how it follows you home to the shoebox apartment you won’t let him buy you out of.

The water sloshes around you as you crumble, lapping dangerously at the edge while you reach for the towel to dry your hands before you grab your phone. You open your conversation with Cassian, leaning back against the slick tiled wall as you read through the last series of messages. Your heart flutters, maybe stupidly, at the words on your screen. At the promises he makes of what he’s going to do to you or the gifts he’s going to give you, the food he says he’s going to feed you.

Just like the last time you checked, you have no new messages from him— just his customary good morning message that he sends you at an ungodly hour almost every day, the timestamp from today’s reading 4:47am. Not for the first time you wonder if he doesn’t sleep well, trying to mask the concern as curiosity as it looms to the front of your mind. You wonder if he’s stressed, if he’s been losing sleep over the business deal he’s mentioned to you a handful of times when you ask about his work and you feel your heart twist in your chest at the thought of him still cooped up in his office at this hour.

Your teeth dig into your lip as the idea begins to ignite in your mind, an idea that you’ve been playing with ever since your arrangement with Cassian had been cemented what feels like ages ago and you can’t shake it. You don’t have work tomorrow or any prior engagements, there’s no real reason why you shouldn’t. There’s nothing concrete that you can hang onto as an excuse to not go, as if your burgeoning feelings will wash down the drain with the bathwater as long you ignore them, as long as you don’t feed them.

Your thumbs move before you can think better of it, asking if he’s still at the office. Your phone clatters back onto the stool as you stand and wrap yourself in a fluffy towel— one gift that you had bought yourself and you drain the tub. When the water hiccups you can still feel a slow, stubborn warmth suffusing you at the thought of him.

You try not to think about your phone as you dry yourself, trying to take your time and wick every drop of moisture away from your supple skin. The Epsom salts had drawn the aches and pains from your limbs and had softened you to an extent, but it’s not enough, not if you actually go through with the scheme that’s unfurling, becoming more and more extravagant as the moments pass. If you’re going to do this at all you’re going to do this right. And that means breaking out the body oil.

You crouch in front of your sink and pull the cabinet drawers open to be met with a small army of glass bottles full of perfumes and oils that you’ve deemed too special, too decadent for daily use— but this is a special occasion. You fish out a bottle from the back, careful as you grip it. The oil looks barely used because it is, one you reserve even more than the others because it’s one of your favorites.

And Cassian’s.

You’re smoothing the oil along your legs, forcing yourself to take your time with the act and making sure you pay attention to each part of you when your phone dings, loud and shrill. It cuts through the jasmine fog you’ve created around yourself and somehow your stomach drops at the same time your heart leaps, lodging itself in the back of your throat.

You pretend not to notice the way your fingers tremble as you pick it up, a miniscule thrill arcing through you at the sight of his name on your screen. You know it’s pathetic that his name is enough to do this to you and it makes you feel a little like a schoolgirl with a crush on her professor, complete with breathless anxiety at the thought of seeing him again.

Still here. I’m sorry baby, I was planning to take you out if I finished early enough.

You imagine him sitting at his big desk in that big office of his, hunched over files and his computer as he tries to iron out details and numbers and whatever else it is that makes business deals work in practice. You know he keeps his hair slicked back for work— one of your favorite things to do is run your fingers through it but you think that he must have already done that for you, agitation making him break that perfect image of his.

You smile to yourself, sit your phone face down on the sink to resist the temptation. You finish oiling yourself, making sure to dab extra onto your pulse points in lieu of perfume. Behind your ears, in the hollow of your throat. Between your breasts and on your wrists.

You choose your lingerie next, all silk and lace and buttery fabric between your fingers as you slide it over your skin. Your mind is running rampant, excitement flaring hot and bright in the pit of your stomach as you wrap yourself up like a present and daydream about the look on his face when he sees you, how he’ll react.

The doubt only surfaces when you’re buttoning your coat, starting to curdle the butterflies in your stomach— because what if he’s annoyed with you showing up without a word? What if he just wants to power through his work before he calls it a night and you throw a wrench into it? But...he has confided to you in the past that he doesn’t know how to stop working, that sometimes he wishes he knew how to actually take a break. You’d seen Cassian in action on multiple occasions, had even rubbed his shoulders for him as he took conference calls on what was supposed to be a day off.

This is the thought you cling to as you slice into a loaf of bread to make him a sandwich, meats and cheese and pickles all laid out on your cutting board when your phone dings again, this time from the pocket of your coat and again his name is on your screen.

Baby?

You’re at the front of his mind now and the edge of your worries smooths a bit even as you stop yourself from texting him back. Regardless of what happens, if you step into his office to see him tired and wanting to finish his work, only staying long enough to give him a kiss and tell him to eat his food, you want this to be a surprise.

You layer the condiments and the ingredients together, toasting the sandwich off and wrapping the finished product in wax paper and then into a brown paper bag and all of a sudden you’re ready to leave. You check and re-check your buttons and the belt of your coat, thankful that there’s enough of a chill in the night air that no one will look at you sideways for wearing something that’s all done up and falling below your knees.

You take a deep breath, the little hairs along your arms and on the back of your neck standing up and you worry your lip, and call your taxi from in front of your building, the butterflies starting to swarm up again from somewhere deep in your stomach. If you’re being honest with yourself you had always wanted to do something like this, had always wanted to have someone that you wanted to surprise like this.

His company’s building is almost empty but the security guard who lets you in smiles and greets you by name— just as you do him. He teases you for being sweet on his boss, something you can’t deny and it makes you fluster. It’s the only explanation for why you had suddenly appeared on the list you imagine he has, your name one that’s waved through despite the odd hour even if the true nature of your relationship with ‘Mr. Andor’ is one that’s kept secret, only known between the two of you.

When the guard goes to buzz Cassian and let him know you’re here you stop him, all bashful smiles and holding up the lunch bag as if it’s some kind of defense, a shield for your ulterior motives. “I want to surprise him, he works too hard.” You admit and share a good natured chuckle with the older man when he readily agrees with you. He’s been with Cassian for years and this is far from the first night he’s stayed late.

Though this is the first time anyone has brought him food, and he makes sure to tell you that.

You’re still thinking about it as you ride the elevator up to the top floor, but the sight of such a large building empty aside from security personnel with all non essential lighting turned off is something eerie. It makes your skin crawl and you regret all those horror movies you like to watch, convincing yourself that because you watch them during the day it won’t be as bad as if you were watching them in the middle of the night.

You try to think of Cassian instead to assuage the chills that are creeping up the back of your neck, telling yourself to give the horror movies a rest for a while, and as the elevator climbs higher it begins to work. Your heart starts to beat a little faster, your breaths shallowing and you find yourself grinning to yourself as the doors open.

It’s empty, as expected, and you can see the closed door of his office as you step out, the route through a small seating area and past the secretary’s desk one you have memorized and your blood begins to heat with each step you take. You pause outside his door, blowing out a slow breath and raising your hand to gently knock. You hear nothing on the other side of the door and instead of knocking again you reach for the handle and step in.

Cassian is seated at his desk just like you had imagined him, washed in warm light while the lights of the city below are sparkling like stars behind him. At the sound of someone entering his head shoots up and his eyes widen, only to melt into something softer and warmer as he recognizes you and leans back in his plush leather chair. “What are you doing here?” He doesn’t sound accusatory— he sounds curious.

He watches you with dark eyes as you lock the door before you walk further into the room and you feel a smirk growing on your lips as you drop the lunch bag into one of the chairs placed opposite of him, his eyes barely straying from you. “I brought you dinner,” You say it simply, nonchalantly— as if your fingers haven’t untied your belt and gotten to work on the first buttons of your coat at the same time. You work carefully, making sure nothing more than a sliver of skin is revealed as you work your way down the front.

“And what did you bring me?” His eyes don’t leave you, watching with rapt attention as you deftly undo button after button. You feel yourself start to flush underneath his scrutiny, drinking in the sight of his brows furrowing and him sitting up in his chair. You wet your lips, gripping the lapels of your coat for a long moment. To draw it out or muster the courage needed to actually drop the thing in the middle of his office you don’t know because all you can see is how he’s looking at you now, shifting his weight onto his forearms as he leans on his desk for a closer look at you.

“Me.” You grin then, your residual insecurities being drowned by the thrill of it all and the heat of his gaze, and your coat falls in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Goosebumps cover your body at the noise he makes, a low groan from somewhere deep in his chest and you feel your nipples peak against the lace of your bra— if you can even call it one. The garment seems almost purely decorative, doing more to show you off than it does to conceal. He shifts in his chair, leans back again and rubs his hand over his chin, over the short hair that you’ve come to crave rasping over your skin.

You see his eyes go heavy as you saunter around his desk, trying not to grin too brightly because for all the nerves you had getting ready and in the elevator, you don’t think you’ve ever felt better in this moment with his eyes all over you like he can’t decide where to look, his hand gripping the arm of his chair and shifting his weight.

He stands before you can slide yourself between his legs and he’s so close you feel the warmth coming off of him, the cologne you had daydreamed about swirling around your head and you can’t help yourself from taking a deep breath of it. He moves slowly, dipping his face into the crook of your neck and you think you feel his eyelashes flutter against the delicate skin, no doubt smelling the jasmine you so lovingly doused yourself in. You do your best to stay still, even as you feel his large palms sliding along your sides, gripping your hips over the lace and silk he finds there.

When he finally raises his head his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black, swallowing you up whole. “And you think you can just interrupt me?” His words are quiet and his accent is more pronounced than it was only moments ago. It’s one of your favorite things about him, how his voice sounds. You love how it doubles and triples in weight and you would be lying through your teeth if you said one of your goals isn’t to have him speaking another language by the time you leave the building. It’s the same goal you have every time you see him.

“I wanted to see you, Daddy,” You try not to smirk, you really do, when you reach up to give the open collar of his dress shirt a little tug, playing at fixing it. You know exactly what game he’s playing and it makes your heart race because you know what’s coming next— your mouth might even be watering for it.

“Bend over the desk.” He says it softly. He says it softly enough that it almost doesn’t sound like the order it is but he squeezes your hips to emphasize his point, his fingers indenting the soft flesh and you almost melt right there.

You nod, wetting your lips as he shoves the files on his desk to the side and he doesn’t seem to care as they clatter to the floor. You arrange yourself in front of his desk with your legs spread and bend over at the waist, bracing your weight on your forearms and the muscles in your belly are already clenching when you feel him step up behind you. He runs his hands lightly over your sides and you almost fold in on yourself when he hits that one spot underneath your rib cage, the one that’s the almost-but-not-quite kind of ticklish that just makes the hair on your neck stand up and your muscles quiver.

Your eyelids flutter and you try your best to stay still as he pets you, ghosting his hands over your hips and your backside, teasingly slipping a finger underneath the elastic of your panties and letting it snap back against your skin. Your back arches in response and you bite your lip, the anticipation almost enough to make you moan.

“Just look at you, dirty girl,” He murmurs from behind you and you think you can feel the fabric of his slacks if you concentrate hard enough, the touch maddeningly fleeting and you have to keep yourself from pressing back into him, from rolling your hips in an effort to entice him. You know from experience he’ll just make you wait longer if you do but it does nothing to dull the ache that has flared to life between your spread thighs. If anything the knowledge just makes it burn hotter.

“Coming all the way here in lingerie I bought you and nothing to cover it except that flimsy coat,” His words are scolding but his hands are still gentle on your skin. “Anyone could have seen you, do you know that? Anyone could have seen what is mine,” If someone had told you six months ago that you would be dissolving into Cassian Andor’s desk at the sound of his voice in your ear, at the sound of him taking verbal possession of you, you would have laughed in their face.

And yet here you are, trying to concentrate on your breathing and trying not to shake, waiting for his next move with bated breath. He has to know what it does to you when he calls you his. His anything. His baby, his girl. There’s been a handful of times where he’s called you his darling outside of having sex and it makes your heart race each and every time. He has to know.

But then he leans over you and you can feel his shirt drag along the bare skin of your back and the cold press of his belt buckle and then you can’t think of anything else. His breath skates over your ear and your teeth dig into your lip, your eyelids fluttering as you try to listen to what he’s saying.

“For every one you don’t count, you get five more. Okay?” If someone had told you six months ago that you would want to be spanked, that you would crave the burn to the point you thought about it at night, that would make you whine, you would have laughed them out of the building. But here you are. Here you are and the way he’s making it sound in this context, like it’s a punishment for interrupting him or going out in lingerie with the only thing protecting you from flashing the wrong person being one measly coat, is only cranking you hotter.

“Yes,” Your voice almost gets stuck in your throat and slips through your teeth in a hiss because he’s pressing his hips forward and you can feel the wood digging into the front of your own and all you want to do is press back. You don’t realize your mistake until he hums behind you, low in his throat and sounding as disappointed as a hum can be and he squeezes your hip in something that might be a warning.

“Yes what?” You can’t stop the shudder that wracks through this time, just like you can’t stop yourself from leaning back into him, a small whine tumbling from your lips.

“Yes, Cassian,” Cassian. Somehow calling his name makes the room feel hotter and the air heavier because it’s intimate. There’s no sir, no generic, false title to hide behind when you’re together, nothing you can use to distance yourself from him. No corner of your mind that isn’t consumed by him.

“Good girl.” You feel his lips behind your ear in a quick kiss, his beard just barely scratching your skin and you want it everywhere. He’s straightening up, taking a step back from then you mourn the loss of his heat. Your breathing picks up and you shift, reaching up to grab the edge of his desk in a vain attempt to ground yourself.

He doesn’t give you any other warning before his palm is coming down on your right cheek, sharp enough and hard enough to make a sound, to make you jump and your body go taut, the air stalling in your chest before you’re melting over his desk. “One,” Your voice is trembling already while his hand returns to you, smoothing over your skin and soothing the sting he just inflicted and you know if he touched you right then his fingers would come away wet.

His hand comes down on your other cheek, lower this time, close to where your thigh meets your ass and you count him off with a gasp because the biting sting is already beginning to turn into something different, worked into something new under his kneading fingers and it makes you keen as you count him off.

Three, four and— you don’t count the fifth one even though you’ve slipped from your elbows, your cheek pressing into the cool wood. Each smack had gotten progressively lower until each of them landed where your thighs meet your ass, the vibrations going straight straight to your pussy.

You don’t bother hiding your smile from him, not seeing the point in hiding your enjoyment from him. He can’t help but tease you for it though, leaning over you again and your abused ass smarts when his slacks rub against it, chills ripping through you. “Dirty girl,” He sounds like he’s laughing at your pain but there’s an almost reverential note in his voice even as you squirm underneath him, the wood rubbing against your nipples in the exact right way to have sparks flying. “I almost forgot how much you like this,”

Liar. He knows. He knows and that’s exactly why he’s letting you try to rock back into him, rubbing yourself like a cat in heat against the bulge of his cock. Your belly is coiling tight and your mouth is watering for more, everything just enough to keep you on edge. To tease without offering any real relief and for some reason you love it. You love how he can boil you down to sensations alone, to make you crave and ache and need.

The next smacks land dead center on the junction of your thighs and your ass and you count off every one, the contact going right to your buzzing clit that you’re trying to grind into the edge of his desk in a vain attempt to dull the edge. You’re gripping the desk so hard that your knuckles are lightening a shade, the skin pulled taut over the bone.

The last one is the one that kills you, that makes you hold your breath and arch. Your legs are spread wide enough for his hand to easily fit between them but you still aren’t expecting him to slap you there, an obscene noise filling the room that makes your ears burn. Your moan is delayed but it’s loud, electric pleasure rocketing up your spine and he keeps his hand there. He keeps constant pressure against your thrumming cunt and lets you grind into it, whimpering the count while you push yourself onto your hands now for more leverage.

The lace of your panties drags through your soaked folds and the friction is amazing. So amazing that you almost don’t feel him lean in closer, all your attention on your pussy but then his mouth is at your ear again and his free hand is sliding up your chest, fingers splayed across your collarbones and holding you against him.

His head dips and he mouths at the side of your neck, teeth scraping and his beard scratching. His hand moves again but doesn’t go far, his fingers pinching your nipple. “You’re so good for me,” He mumbles and he sounds almost as lost as you feel.

“Turn around,” His accent has thickened in the way you love and you swallow back the disappointed moan when he takes his hands from you, waiting for you to comply.

You’re trembling as you do, your eyes fluttering open and the lights of the city swim in front of you before your eyes focus on the man who pulled away before you could cum on his hand, nearly all from spanking you. Not for the first time you wonder if he’s even real— but the ache at the very core of you says he is, says that you don’t know how but his hands on you are your favorite thing.

And then he’s grabbing you and lifting you onto his desk, stepping between your slick thighs and you have to reach for him, unable to stand it anymore and murmuring his name. He beats you to it, warm hands sliding around your jaw and cupping your face as he leans in.

The first brush of his lips on yours makes you sigh, as if his kiss brings you relief even while it stokes the fire deep within you. Your hands fist in the sides of his shirt as he deepens the kiss, angling your head just how he wants and slicking his tongue into your mouth. A moan rises from the back of your throat as you wind your legs around his hips to keep him pressed close, unwilling or just plain unable to do anything that would make him break the kiss because you aren’t, not until your lungs start to burn from the lack of oxygen.

The most you can manage while he eats at your mouth, his beard abrading your skin in a way you know you’ll curse him for later when it turns painful but you can’t seem to get enough of it, is yanking his once perfectly crisp, pressed dress shirt out of his pants because you keep grabbing at him like he isn’t already close enough, your spine bowing with the way he’s leaning into you.

If this was a purely business relationship you don’t think you’d be like this, you don’t think you would go out of your way to see him at all, to make him food. But you are and you did— you wrapped yourself up like a present for him in the hopes he’d fuck you the way that makes your toes curl, better than he really has any business doing, but you had brought him food. That’s the detail that doesn’t fit, the one crooked picture frame in the hallway. You took the time and effort to make him something you know he likes because you know he hadn’t eaten yet. He has to know.

His mouth only breaks from yours when your back hits his desk and your lips are shiny and wet from your combined saliva and your chest is heaving as he trails openmouthed kisses along your jaw to your neck. His hands leave your face in favor of lavishing attention on your breasts, groping you through the lace and the silk just adding to the softness of you that he adores.

His teeth scrape down the sensitive skin of your throat, rolling and tweaking your nipples between his fingers as his mouth continues a steady and determined path path until his mouth is engulfing one over your bra, wetting the material with his tongue and for some reason that makes the muscles in your belly twist tighter. Your hands have slipped to his shoulders, nails scratching into his shirt for something to hold on to and because you can’t imagine not touching him. He gives your other nipple the same treatment and he’s slipping a hand underneath the thin, flimsy band of your panties to knead your hip.

But then his hand is turning, grasping the band and yanking it, a tearing sound filling the room and this time when you say his name it’s a yelp of both surprise and a poor attempt at a reprimand as you push yourself up because that pair was one of your favorites. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing as he looks up at you, his mouth traveling down until he’s mouthing at your stomach and the look in his dark eyes makes your breath catch at the back of your throat.

“I’ll make it up to you, cariño,” His voice is low and crooning, placating you as he throws your ruined underwear somewhere to the side and you have a crystal clear realization of what he means by making it up to you when he reaches behind him to pull his chair up, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s going to eat you alive.

Your breath stutters as he starts arranging you how he wants, spreading your thighs wider and one hand smoothing down your leg to grasp your ankle and lift, placing it on top of his desk and you’ve never felt more on display in your life. You lean your weight back onto your hands, unable to look away from him as he looks at you with heavy eyes, the sigh loud as it leaves his mouth and it’s the same sigh you hear when you wrap your lips around his cock, the sigh he only makes when he’s being pleasured and he’s making it while just looking at you. It makes your head spin in the best way, your skin prickling when he strokes that same hand back along the line of your leg until he reaches your thigh, giving it a squeeze that makes you feel as if you might burst if he does it again.

You barely register the cool air on your weeping slit because he’s leaning forward and licking a thick stripe up the length of you and you don’t know who groans louder— you or Cassian. You feel like you’re going to collapse as he begins devouring you in earnest, one hand pressed into your thigh to make sure your leg doesn’t slip from the desk and his teeth and tongue flickering over your clit, but you can’t look away from him.

The lights behind him slide together into a neon haze and he’s looking up at you with blown out pupils and strands of hair falling across his forehead and you don’t think you’ve seen anything more beautiful than him at this moment. Your nails scrape against the wood as you reach one hand down to clutch at his hair and the sound he makes when you tug on the strands burrows into your cunt and leaves you reeling.

As if that knocked over some domino he starts to mumble against your swollen flesh, his tone dark and rich as he goes on about your taste, how sweet you are under his tongue and how good you are for him and the praise goes straight to your head, your heart pounding against the weight of your ribcage. Somewhere in a hazy part of your mind you wonder how you made it this long without him— like you do every time you’re together again after any absence, any time apart.

And you’ll never tell him that outside of the bedroom— office, as it was right at this moment. You’ll never tell him that in a voice that isn’t rushed and panting, begging to be touched because you don’t know what this is anymore. You know what it started as, a way for him to have company and a little eye candy on his arm for industry functions. A shield against unwanted advances. But then you actually, genuinely enjoyed your time with him. Had started looking forward to it and the way he wasn’t pushing you for sex. That part of your relationship had evolved on its own and once it did there was no stopping it, and you both just...ran with it.

And now here you are, making him food and letting him fuck you for what might as well be free and you’re reveling in it.

You’re rocking your hips forward, incapable of staying still now with each of your nerve endings on fire and that’s when he decides to feed one of his fingers into you, stretching you open in ways that make your own fingers pale in comparison and it’s like a dam bursts somewhere within you, mewls and whimpers pouring from your lips and if he was anyone else you might be embarrassed about the noises you’re making.

But you’re not. You’re not because in response, as if the bastard is rewarding you for starting to fall apart underneath his mouth, his mouth latches onto your clit and sucks, pressing his tongue into the bundle of nerves hard enough to make you see stars as your eyes squeeze shut, your thighs jumping.

“I think you can take another, don’t you?” His voice is rough and you feel the blunt pressure of a second finger pressing against your entrance— but he doesn’t go any farther than that, not until you’re nodding, almost frantic with his name stuck in your throat.

The second digit makes your mouth fall open and your head tips back before you can help it, because he’s sinking it into your fluttering cunt up to the knuckle with the first and holding them there, just letting you have the sensation of being filled while he sets his mouth back on your clit.

His free hand leaves your thigh and he groans into your soaked folds a moment later, and somehow you manage the strength to lift your head and look. What you see makes your hips roll forwards, grinding yourself into his fingers and his tongue because you can see his hand moving, palming his cock through his slacks. The cock that you know is heavy and hot to the touch and must be aching at this point and suddenly that’s all you can think about.

He’s taking you apart with his mouth and you’re still greedy for more of him, because of course you are. You want his mouth and his fingers and his cock so deep inside of you that you can feel him in the back of your throat.

A pathetic, needy sound spills from somewhere deep in your chest just like that all his focus is on you again, his hand returning to slide over your hip and lock down to keep your hips pinned to his desk. He starts pumping his fingers, curling them in the exact right way to have your vision start to fuzz out at the edges.

Distantly you hear him goad you on in that honeyed voice, coaxing you to the edge and shoving you over it. He keeps driving his fingers into you, stretching and curling as your cunt flutters around them and mercilessly dragging you through your orgasm. His teeth catch your clit and you melt down, your body clamping around his fingers and your world narrowing to this one delicious point.

Stars burst behind your eyelids and you cry something that might be his name when your lungs remember how to work while your nails scratch over his scalp, but he takes care of you.

He soothes you, guiding you back to earth with a gentle hand and turning his head to mouth lazily at the inside of your thigh when the sensations get to be too much and you have to push him away from your cunt. Your legs are quivering on either side of his head and your heart is erratic in your chest, and Cassian has started to rub your thighs as if he's trying to soothe you, as if he can't get enough of you even now.

You can't seem to unlock your fingers from his hair as he starts to rise, his mouth and beard glistening and he's— he's smiling at you while he crowds into your space all over again. This time when you kiss it's slow and languid and utterly filthy because you taste yourself in his tongue, the damp bristles of his beard scratching your chin and you never want it to end.

The hand in his hair slips to his face, cupping his jaw as it works while your arm winds around his shoulders, holding him close and it's only when your trembling legs wrap around his hips, your ankles crossing at the small of his back that he pulls back, a dark chuckle on his lips. "Greedy girl," he nudges your cheek with his nose, angling your head just right so he can suck a mark underneath your jaw.

You don’t try to deny it— why bother when you’re reaching to fumble with his belt, trying to focus enough to yank his zipper down while his teeth are at your throat. Desperation makes you clumsy as you shove his slacks and underwear down his thighs and you don’t bother stifling your moan when you see him, flushed and weeping, a pearly bead of precum slipping down the tip of his shaft and if was physically possible to dissolve into a puddle of pure need you think you would right there.

Like a magnet your hand goes to it, wrapping your fingers around the searing girth of him and stroking. Cassian huffs into your throat, grunting as you twist your wrist and swipe your thumb over his tip. He lets you play, leaning more of his weight into the line of your body and the heat pouring off of him makes you shudder.

He doesn’t make any move to stop you despite him straining closer and the ache flaring, sharp and bright deep within you. You know what he wants, had played this particular game with him countless times, each of you trying to outlast the other while being driven out of your minds with want. You love it, love how the need strips you down to base urges and emotions without fear of looking foolish. How it makes your time together, short as it is at times, seem to unravel in front of you and spool into something greater than it is.

But you’re weak. Your first orgasm did nothing to satisfy you, if anything it just made everything worse in some twisted way.

“Cassian,” You beseech him, your voice gone soft and breathy as you try to pull him even closer.

“What is it, querida?” He husks into your ear, lips pulling into a sharp smile when you rip your hand away from his cock to brace yourself as he pushes forward, just enough for you to feel the weight of his cock pressing against your folds, so close to where you want him that you can almost taste it. “Do you want my cock so badly you’ve forgotten how to speak?”

He’s hitting his stride now, delighting in the way you choke on a moan. “Please, Cassian,” You try again, wetting your lips. “Give it to me,” You pull on his shirt and roll your hips and what’s left of your brain almost short circuits because he catches the dip of your entrance and you still, breath whooshing over your teeth.

“Since you asked so nicely,” He concedes, voice scraping the air between you and then he’s filling you. Your legs tense around his hips and some high, keening noise fills the air that you realize a few moments too late is coming from you because you think you can feel every ridge as he thrusts home. Your hands are everywhere— flitting from his shoulders to his back to his arms and back again, because you can’t seem to figure out the best way to keep him as close as possible.

He’s not any better than you are, his fingers digging into your hips, your thighs. Refusing to allow you any space to pull away from him when the sensations get to be too much, refusing to allow you any reprieve from him at all because his mouth is at your neck as he starts to thrust, groaning against your skin.

One thing about Cassian is that he talks. As if something about experiencing pleasure jumpstarts his tongue he’s only quiet when he’s kissing you or sucking at your skin, and he’ll inevitably break away to start murmuring nonsense to you, languages getting muddled and mixed in his mouth the closer he gets to completion. He talks, and he expects answers.

“That’s it, princesa,” He breathes at your ear when you roll your hips just right, when your cunt tightens even further around his cock like you never want him to leave. He always praises you, telling you how you feel wrapped around him like a vice. How good you’re being for him, how well you’re taking his cock. “I make you feel good, don’t I?”

All you can do is moan at him because the bastard knows he does, as if it isn’t staggeringly, blindingly obvious in the way you’re holding onto him, the sounds you’re making as he drives into you over and over again. But as much as he likes to talk, he likes hearing you more and you’ve taken too long.

“Answer me,” He says and swats your thigh, hard enough that a tingling warmth spreads out along your skin from the point of contact and the bite of pain somehow puts the pleasure into a sort of perspective, contrasting it so perfectly that your legs are tightening around his thrusting hips and your mouth is falling open.

“Yes, yes, Cassian, you do,” The words fall over themselves in the push to get out of your mouth and he’s praising you again, both verbally and in the way his hand snakes between you, fingers unerringly finding your clit and it makes you jerk like you’ve been electrocuted, arcs of sizzling pleasure sweeping through your body.

He leans over you and he doesn’t stop, the calloused pads of his fingers rubbing world-ending circles into your clit and all you can do is hold onto him, squirming and arching against him because his other arm has wound around your back to pull you flush and there’s nowhere for you to go except Cassian.

Cassian, Cassian, Cassian. How he speaks like he does you have no idea because the only thing you can seem to reliably get out of your mouth is his name, unburdened by things like sentence structure while he grunts and groans, tongue tying himself in Spanish and you’ve picked up enough to get the gist of what he’s saying. He’s telling you how hard he’s going to make you cum, how he’s going to fill you up. How the next time you show up like this he’s going to make you ride him.

Everything combines and your gust twists, the pleasure turning caustic as it burns you up from the inside out, vision blurring as you try to scramble back away from him out of instinct, away from the looming threat of overstimulation but his arm at your back prevents it and he just keeps fucking into you hard and deep, this fingers never leaving your clit. The only thing you’re able to do is dig your nails in and hold on as you sob, squeezing your eyes tight enough, the pleasure sharp and intense enough to have a tear slip down your cheek.

In the next moments his pace falters, his hips stuttering and turning sloppy. He bucks into you with an almost bruising force and holds himself there as he releases and you can’t help but whine at the feel of it, of him shuddering in your arms.

Neither of you speak for long moments, instead just weathering the aftershocks in each other’s embrace as you both come down from your highs, breathing raggedly. His hand sweeps over your back in long, soothing strokes and he presses kisses into your shoulders, your neck, his touches soft and mindful now that the frenzy has passed.

“Are you okay?” His voice is as soft as his hands and you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips as you nuzzle closer to him, humming your answer into his neck while his hand comes up to stroke your hair.

“Words, princesa. Are you okay?” He admonishes gently and you can’t help the small chuckle that bubbles up in your throat at his insistence, at the warm feeling that spreads throughout your body at the sound of his concern.

“Yes, Cassian. I promise,” It’s then that he smiles down at you curled into his chest, reassured, and you don’t know how long you stay like that, wrapped around each other and each of you not wanting to be the first to let go. It’s in these moments, your heart rate calming while he rests in you, seemingly loathe to pull out, that you think there may be something more to this than just sex or companionship at parties for him.

No matter how rough he is with you during the act he always treats you like some precious thing afterwards, all murmured words and comforting touches. Running his hand down your spine, over your hair. Telling you how good you did, how proud he is of you for taking everything he throws at you and calling you things like beautiful girl and all the pet names he uses while he’s fucking you except there’s a distinct affection to them now and they make your heart jump and butterflies fill you stomach.

You’re almost drifting off, a consequence of being warm and sated and well-fucked, when he speaks again. “Did you really bring me food?” He sounds equal parts excited and cautious, like he’s trying not to get his hopes up too much and you can’t help but laugh as you start to untangle yourself from him.

“I made you a sandwich,” You tell him, a fresh wave of warmth swelling up in your chest at the look on his face. You readjust on the desk, your breath catching when his cock slips from your cunt and then you’re reaching back, your fingers just snagging the lunch bag because you don’t trust your legs to work quite yet. Cassian once again pulls his chair up, leaning back to watch you unwrap the food and like he’s incapable of not touching you one of his hands returns to your thigh, idling stroking from your knee to your hip so gently you’re not sure if it’s a conscious movement or not.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” He starts when he sees the sandwich, one that requires actual effort instead of something that only calls for throwing together leftovers and calling it good enough, but you only shrug a shoulder.

“I wanted to.” There’s more there but he doesn’t question you further, and you don’t know whether that’s a blessing or a curse. “You were working late and you don’t always eat, so…” You let the words fade into the air, revealing to him that you listen to what he tells you and remember. The remembering is the important part and a flash of regret ignites in your chest almost as soon as the words leave your mouth, but he’s looking at you with the same expression you think you had when he took you to the art museum for the first time, never complaining as you wandered for hours.

“There’s two halves— I’ll only eat if you share it with me.” His smile turns tricky at the edges and he doesn’t reach for the sandwich at all, waiting for your answer and despite yourself, despite knowing it shouldn’t, you feel your heart melt a little.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Andor,” You smile, try for a light, casual tone as you reach for your half and ignore the way his eyes light up.

You eat slowly, savoring the tastes and textures, the office filled with a downy, plush sort of silence as you bask in the afterglow. He’s watching you the entire time, holding the sandwich with one hand because his other hasn’t left your skin, tracing patterns into the inside of your knee and sweeping his fingers over the curve of your thigh.

You try to focus on the city behind him, afraid that if you look at his face too long you’ll get caught up and start confessing things to him, things that are better left unsaid, carefully danced around in conversation no matter how blatant they are in your actions— like going out of your way to come see him when you could’ve just stayed home and enjoyed a quiet night in. Like coating yourself in sweet smelling oils that make your skin even softer to the touch, like wrapping yourself up in lace and silk just for him.

You almost don’t realize the chill creeping over your exposed skin, goosebumps following in its wake and before you can complain Cassian is slipping his suit jacket off the chair behind him and holding it out to you. “Here, put this on,” There’s no question in his tone, no tentative ‘are you cold?’ And maybe that’s the reason you find yourself so drawn to him; he pays attention to you, to the things you think no one else bothers to notice.

You murmur your thanks and slip the fabric over your shoulders, warm and smelling of his cologne and you feel...you feel almost content sitting up on his desk and sharing the meal you made, his watch pressing heavy into your skin when he squeezes your knee.

You lick at the last bit of mustard clinging to a finger as you finish your half, acutely aware of his eyes on you as your tongue dabs at your own skin. He’s leaning his elbow onto one of the arms of his chair, his chin resting in his hand and covering his mouth, his eyes never wavering from your body and just like that your skin starts to prickle again, sensing a change in the air between you.

His eyes rove over your body, slow and heating again at the sight of you like this, his jacket hanging loose on your shoulders and almost seeming to frame your breasts, your thighs spread on his desk to keep yourself upright and maybe to relieve the scratches left by his beard. His eyes catch on the pearly drops on the dark wood on his desk, your combined essences leaking out of you and his breath leaves him in a long sigh, watching it ooze from your flushed cunt.

The hand on your thigh starts to move, slowly as to not startle you as it smooths along the inside of your thigh and you don’t stop him. You watch him with bated breath, watch the way his brow knits with concentration and his breathing deepens.

Your thighs jump at the first brush of his thumb along your oversensitive folds and you see his head tilt, visibly engrossed with the sight in front of him and the realization of what he’s doing hits you like a punch to the gut.

He runs his thumb down and up, scooping his cum up as it seeps out and pushing it back into you, his thumb thick and insistent and your mouth falls open in a silent moan, eyes fluttering. He rubs his mouth, not looking up at you as he repeats the process again while he begins to speak, words heavy in the air between you.

“How did you get here?”

You breathe slow and deep, trying to make your brain connect to your tongue but it’s hard to think. It’s hard to think because you’re hypersensitive, but he’s moving so slow and soft, mindful of the razor’s edge you’re sitting on and the depths his thumb is reaching within you are just shallow enough to have you starting to want more all over again.

“I— uhmm,” You cut yourself off, a hum rising from the back of your throat as his thumb stills, sheathed in your quivering core and acting as a plug to keep any more of his cum from escaping for the time being. “I took a cab,”

You lean back on your hands, trying to breathe through the sensation of being filled but not enough to truly satisfy you, and you wonder how you’re supposed to live without this when the arrangement inevitably ends, because you know it will. He makes no effort to hide how much he likes spoiling you, but you think that it’s only a matter of time before he decides that bleeding money for you is too much of an unnecessary expense, and then what?

Are you supposed to move on knowing what it feels like to have lingerie that costs more than your rent ripped off you, only to be replaced in the next few days and knowing that you’ll probably never experience the thrill it brings again? To know what it feels like to be so thoroughly taken care of you can’t see straight and try to find it in someone else? Cassian is passion and intensity paired with soft smiles and bright laughter, and you don’t know if you’ll ever find that in someone else, and it scares you more than you care to admit, even to yourself.

He looks up at you then, his eyes dark and glimmering in the low light, his hair mussed from your fingers and your chest bows. For how much you tried to focus on anything else but him while you ate, you can’t look away from him now.

“Good,” He starts, his voice warm and slow as honey. “You’re coming home with me.”

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor smut #cassian andor fic #rogue one fic #star wars fic #star wars smut #i blame kami for this monstrosity

500 notes · View notes

five-miles-over · 4 years ago

Text

Joaquin Phoenix Characters - Sleepover Headcanons

Hi everyone! Hope you’re all doing well - staying healthy, safe and sane. This is just a fun little listicle about what some of our favorite characters would be like during a sleepover - what they’d like to eat, what they’d like to do, etc. The characters in this listicle are:

• Arthur Fleck/Joker (”Joker”), Merrill Hess (”Signs”), Doug Holt (”Inventing the Abbotts”), Max California (”8 mm”), Jimmy Emmett (”To Die For”) Johnny Cash (”Walk the Line”), Doc Sportello (”Inherent Vice”), Abbé de Coulmier (”Quills”), and Emperor Commodus (”Gladiator)

This is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone. As always, please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!

Arthur Fleck

• Favorite Snack: Frosted sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, just cookies in general (and don’t forget a glass of milk)

• Really likes doing arts and crafts (making necklaces, charm bracelets, slime, frames, you name it, he’s in)

• Very polite guest, will always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’

• Enjoys watching “The Wizard of Oz” (and we cannot skip any songs)

• Surprisingly very good at charades

With the other characters: Arthur would be very happy to make friendship bracelets with Abbé, and indulge in a harmless pillow fight with Merrill.

Joker

• Favorite Snack: Popcorn, lightly salted

• Usually the first one to start a game of “Truth or Dare”

• Also, loves to take every challenge to the next level (Prank call someone? Nah, he’ll say to prank call the police, which btw you should never, ever do.)

• Gently needs to be told to put away his weapons.

• Seriously, do not teach him or invite him for a round of Russian Roulette

With the other characters: He could probably teach a very eager Commodus how to fire a gun, so...watch out?

Also, he’d be having some pretty intense conversations with Max, Doc, and Jimmy about the kind of things they’ve all seen women able to do.

Merrill Hess

• Favorite Snack: S’mores and M&M’s

• Enjoys board games as well as outdoor activities (baseball, catching fireflies, tag)

• His favorite game to play at sleepovers though, is pictionary

• Tells a few too many stories about aliens

• Likes pillow fights

• Enjoys watching “Toy Story” and any of the “Indiana Jones” movies (because of the adventure)

With the other characters: When he’s not playing catch with Doug outside, he might be having a pillow fight with Arthur or watching whatever just happens to be playing. Also, his stories about extra-terrestrial beings may be the reason Arthur will need some more milk to fall asleep.

Doug Holt

• Favorite Snack: Ice Cream Sandwiches

• Usually is a very nice guest - he’ll bring over some store-bought snacks (chips/crisps, pretzels, onion rings) if not some meatloaf from home

• Actually has some great stories from his childhood about him and his brother

With the other characters: He would definitely make Johnny Cash laugh with his story about drawing fake sideburns to look like Elvis Presley. Also, don’t be surprised to find those two having a wrestling match or fist-fighting just for fun.

Max California

• Favorite Snacks: Beer and Pretzels

• Brings his own six pack of beer, the latest Playboy, Playgirl (every dirty magazine he has in stock), a few toys, and even some pornographic movies

• He is the life of the party - he gets everyone laughing and whistling raucously

• Brace yourself for some vulgar jokes and unrestrained swearing

With other characters: One time he brought a tattoo gun and gave Jimmy a tattoo of a skull and crossbones on the kid’s bicep.

Much to the Abbé’s chagrin, Max is more than happy to read some of the stuff he brings to the party out loud.

Jimmy Emmett

• Favorite Snacks: Cheese Puffs and Candy Bars

• Kind of sloppy, and makes a mess when he eats

• The lightweight of the bunch- he gets buzzed after two glasses of wine.

• He’s still great because he’ll laugh at almost any joke you tell him

• Also, Jimmy gives good hugs when he’s drunk or stoned (no one knows why)

With the other characters: Laughing over something weird while smoking pot with Doc.

He’s also quite hooked on the magazines Max brings over, studying the photographs of women quite intensely.

Johnny Cash

• Favorite Snack: Not really a snack (more of a meal), but chili and cornbread

• Wouldn’t be a fan of karaoke, but definitely enjoys watching other people perform

With the other characters: Trying to be mature, Johnny would prefer to talk about Jesus with Abbé, or just watch the others try their hand at singing.

If all else bores him, he might just sweet-talk Commodus into saying, “They tell me your son squealed like a girl when they nailed him to the cross, and that your wife moaned like a whore when they ravaged her again and again.”

Doc Sportello

• Favorite Snack: Fruit (he seems to be someone who likes healthy, all-natural food)

• Brings his own stash of pot and paper for rolling joints

• LIVES for the karaoke -he’ll sing anything without any fear

With the other characters: Honestly, he’ll be lighting up a smoke and just having a great time in general. Will he sleep? Yeah, he will, but he’ll also enjoy hanging out with the other guys.

Abbé de Coulmier

• Favorite snack: Chamomile tea (because it’s calming) with biscuits

• The first to fall asleep at a sleepover (”Early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.”)

• If your prankster friend is around, Abbé might also be the first to wake up with an ink mustache

• Might insist on leading a group prayer before everyone “sleeps”

• Would enjoy watching either “The Ten Commandments” or a sweet, vintage film like “Roman Holiday” or “Sabrina”

With the other characters: After an obligatory drink with the host, the Abbé would enjoy speaking about the Lord with Johnny Cash. And of course, he would keep his rosary handy for when Max comes with...lewd party favors.

Emperor Commodus

• Favorite snacks: Charcuterie boards (cured meats, various pungent cheeses, olives) and Gelato

• Usually enjoys hosting sleepovers more than being invited to sleepovers

(mainly because it’s safer for him and he gets to be in charge of everything)

• Still, he is a very good host.

• Unlike the others, he’s surprisingly okay with hot oil massages, cooling facials, and even manicures

• Wine tasting while gazing at the stars

• When it comes to Truth or Dare, he’ll choose some of the most extravagant dares to prove he’s not afraid of anything (even though he really doesn’t want to do any of them)

• Very, very very fussy about cleanliness - he does not like the idea of his silk sheets being stained with orange cheese dust or melted chocolate (looking at you, Jimmy...), or his tidy rooms smelling of pot

With the other characters: He once tried to host a private gladiatorial show for his guests...let’s just say there’s a reason lions are not supposed to be inside the palace. Other than that incident, him and the Abbé were actually able to have a nice few moments together for once, bonding over experiences with wine.

His favorite guest to invite is Max. Seeing as how the Abbé will not bring any of the Marquis’s books, Max is the one bringing the most entertainment and comedy.

166 notes · View notes

vegetalass · 4 years ago

Text

RDR2 Boys Cooking + Eating Habits

Arthur

Somebody else on here wrote some headcanons about Arthur not being able to cook and just eating microwave food all the time and I just have to say…. That’s canon

Lowkey though he’s trying his best to get better at cooking

Probably the only thing he knows how to make is pasta

He adds a bunch of random frozen veggies to water as the noodles are cooking

And then smothers the whole thing in butter and calls it a meal

Or he puts marinara sauce on it straight from the jar

And yes, that means it’s cold

He’s also getting better at friend rice, too

But he’s really bad at actually making rice

If he doesn’t add too much water… He burns the bottom

Charles makes a mental note to buy him a rice cooker for his birthday

Makes his own popsicles out of random fruit juices and eats them 24/7

Thinks this qualifies him as a chef

Eats pickles and olives straight out of the jar with a fork

And sauerkraut too probably

Just goes over to john’s house on his pizza nights

Puts ketchup on eggs

John

Pizza dad

Probably orders pizza, salad, and a 64oz soda twice a week

Everything else is just Dino chicken nuggets, Eggos, hot dogs, quesadillas, and frozen peas and corn

Food you feed to little kids, basically

Mostly because he does have a little kid

But also because it’s easy and takes minimal effort and he doesn’t mind eating it, too

Abigail would be mad but she has no room to talk

The most you’ll see him actually make is buttered pasta (like Arthur) or sometimes beans and rice

Abigail bought them a rice cooker a while ago so that’s one thing he doesn’t have to worry about

Probably always has some type of dessert laying around

Doesn’t mean it’s good, but it’s there

Abigail buys a bunch of those gross, low calorie ice creams and John ends up having to finishing them

Family lunches consist of a bologna sandwich on wheat bread with American cheese and mayo, a piece of fruit, a bag of chips or crackers, a go-gurt, and some gummies

And yes he makes them for himself and Abigail too

They’re all eating good at the Marston household

(Not really)

Charles

Everything he cooks are things that can’t be made in single batches

Lots of healthy soups, chilis, stew, etc…

Most of the time, he makes too much of whatever it is so he always has leftovers

Everyone is jealous when he brings them for lunch

Probably finds all of his recipes in the newspaper or random magazines he reads while at the grocery store checkout line

Everyone is like, “Charles… Why are you reading Women’s Fitness?”

And he’s like, “Check out this salad recipe, though”

Puts hot sauce on everything

Salad, macaroni and cheese, hamburgers... You name it

And he’s the king of snacking

All of his snacks are healthy, though

Raw veggies and fruit and quinoa chips from Whole Foods or something like that

Nobody likes this

He’s one of those people who brings hard boiled eggs everywhere as a “snack,” too

And yea, he puts hot sauce on those, also

He really likes those weird protein bars that are hard to bite into and taste like chalk

The flavors are either normal stuff like white chocolate macadamia or Protein Power Punch with whey, chia and seaweed

There’s no in between

He’s also a charcuterie board legend

Hosea is jealous of this talent

Micah

Spends all his money on take out

He’s totally one of those weird people who’s entire trash can is just filled with take out boxes and cans of coke or beer

Constantly eating fast food

You ask him what he bought at the supermarket and he’s like “Pub mix and bud light”

SIR

Everything that he does manage to cook only involve one step of preparation

Unseasoned, fried meats and boiled veggies

Sometimes scrambled eggs and bacon

If he’s feeling fancy, he will make plain sandwiches

This is very rare, though

Can and will complain about anyone’s cooking

Even if it’s good and he he likes it

There are certain people he can’t do this to, though, or they won’t let him eat

The only person’s cooking he doesn’t complain about is Dutch’s

Constantly snacking from an entire party sized bag of chips

And yes, he eats straight out of the bag and wipes his fingers on his jeans

His oven is dirty

Hosea

A meal for him is probably a handful of almonds and an applesauce or yogurt cup

He is constantly making a bunch of those Tik Tok recipes where you just put a bunch of random stuff into your crock pot and add ranch seasoning and cream cheese

*insert all of those memes about mom pulling out the crock pot*

If you complain, he says “Well, you’re always welcome to cook, too”

Wears an apron when he cooks

Constantly eating plain toast with butter

And bananas

And cheese sticks

Thinks that this makes him “healthy”

Definitely likes to snack on those cocktail fruit cups and canned mandarin oranges

His entire freezer is just full of ice cream

It’s all weird flavors like Cherry Garcia, chocolate banana, and pistachio though

Everyone hates him for this

Raisins are his late night treat

Has a secret stash of candy no one can find

That’s okay though because it’s mostly Werthers Originals

And Chiclets gum

He picks out all the orange ones, though

Dutch

Tries to re-plate takeout so he can call it his own

Everybody sees through this but they stopped commenting on it like four Thanksgivings ago

Buys a bunch of those meals from Costco that all you need to do is heat up in the oven

He does like fast food but only from the less popular places

Carl’s Jr., Wendy’s, BK, Arby’s, etc.

A&W, too, because he’s old and weird

He can totally cook, he just never does

It’s just normal stuff like spaghetti and meatballs or chicken and rice, though

Tuna fish casserole

He over-seasons everything, though

Mostly because he’s trying to prove that he’s a good cook

Eats dessert twice, every night

Once right after dinner, and then later when he’s feeling like a treat

Will eat in bed

Uses a little bib and tray and everything

Likes pumpkin and sunflower seeds

Would eat hot wings with gloves on

He’s the one who taught Arthur to put ketchup on eggs

Kieran

The second I realized that Kieran would probably be white trash, my life changed

Hamburger Helper meals for LIFE

That one cheeseburger pasta? Kieran probably eats that three times a week

He 100% makes the ketchup-butter sketti from Honey Boo Boo

“It’s been a while since I done had roadkill in my belly”

His favorite dessert is ambrosia salad or that weird yogurt/Cool Whip covered jello that was popular in the 2000s

Probably has a TV dinner every once in a while, too

Instant mashed potatoes and minute rice type of guy

Also gives me big microwave cheddar broccoli vibes

I’ve said this before, but his house is probably stocked with all kinds of on-brand goodies

Probably always has some kind of chip and cookie around

Eats dinner in front of the TV

Dips french fries in mayonnaise

All of this said though, he isn’t a picky eater and will eat whatever is put on his plate

That’s why he’s great to take to restaurants, because he never complains

Honestly it’s just so sweet to think of him making big crockpot meals to share with ppl even if his cooking is a lil.... strange

Javier

Thinks that the hot dog combo from Costco is a suitable dinner

Also gets hot food from the grocery store for dinner a lot

Literally will just heat up a can of something and eat it plain

Beans, chili, soup…

Doesn’t doctor it up or change it at all

He’s happy to share but no one wants any

Chips and dip, 24/7

And it’s just Tostitos Hint of Lime chips and hummus

Probably puts hummus on everything, too

Corn chips, tortilla chips, tortillas, vegetables, sandwiches, etc.

Will put anything in a tortilla and call it a sandwich

Eats leftovers cold

The rest of the gang thinks this is a sin

Makes stir fry with whatever is laying around the house

It’s a little gross because he will try to add leftover beans

Refuses to eat fast food

The only exception he’ll make is for french fries and ice cream

Walks around and eats at the same time

Isn’t above asking the other boys to share with him

Despite the fact that this only happens if what they’re eating is good

Which is almost never

Sean

Sean can’t cook. That’s the end of it

The most he can make is that weird microwave Mac and cheese where the pasta is boiled in the mug??

He never does it tho and just sticks with the normal, frozen Mac and Cheese you can microwave instead

Uses his microwaving ability to make mug cakes

And microwave scrambled eggs

Burns his popcorn every single time

He’s probably set of the smoke detector or fire alarm multiple times

He’s Irish though so of course he’s addicted to potatoes and cabbage

And since he’s from the UK, he likes stuff like beans on toast and marmite

He’s a little nasty too so catch him eating bologna sandwiches on wonder bread

Not even the Marstons are that bad

When he does get takeout, he overspends trying to use a delivery app

He’s like, “And do I need the extra side of special sauce for $5…? Yes.”

Cooks like this

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 headcanons #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan #i finally wrote the cooking one LOL #hope you enjoy!!#excited to work on some requests now!

88 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

Text

Survey #424

“got no superspeed, but i’m running this town”

What is the first line in the song you are currently listening to/last listened to? "I’m running out of time; I hope that I can save you somehow.” Are you an easy lay? Not in the slightest. What was the last reason you cried? Life and how inexplicably I'm failing at it. What’s hurting you right now? More like what isn't. Do you remember important dates? Only some. I'm awful with numbers. Do you own anything with the Playboy Bunny on it? No. Do you own a bean bag chair? No. Have you ever played Gamecube? At a friend's house. Have you ever played with toy cars before? Yeah, with my nephew. He LOVES monster trucks. Have you ever touched a caterpillar? Oh, definitely. I loved picking them up as a kid. What is your favorite kind of salad? Just plain 'ole iceberg lettuce with ranch, really. Are you any good at Ping-Pong? Holy hell no, I SUCK. What was/is your high school mascot? A firebird. Can you make cute little animals by folding paper? God no, I'm awful at origami. Like, I have zero concept of how to do it. What kind of music do you like? Various types of metal and rock. Do you like apple juice? Yeah. Do you like to draw? It's funny, like I do love it, but I barely ever do it because I get frustrated when I can't get what's in my head onto paper. What do you put on your french fries? Generally ketchup. How many people can comfortably sleep in your bed? Two. Do you want to have a big family in the future? I don't want kids, just pets. Probably a lot of pets. Is Vegas one of your must-see places? No. Pet rat: yay or nay? I've had multiple pet rats and I adore them. I've come to find I'm not the best at keeping rodents because changing the bedding so much sucks ass, but nevertheless they are fantastic pets for people who don't mind the maintenance. Would you call yourself a writer? Written any stories lately? Yes. I haven't written in a while, though. I just have absolutely zero motivation to RP. Are you good at reading people's body language? I probably overanalyze it, really. Ever threatened somebody and actually went through with it? I don’t threaten people. Does holding newborn babies scare you? Extremely. I feel like they're made of thin glass. Piercings: yay or nay? I LOVE piercings. They add an interesting touch to your appearance and to me just (usually) look super cool. There are very few piercings I don't like. Do you have a collage of pictures in your bedroom? No, but I want to make a motivation board very badly. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Were video games better in the 1980s, 1990s, or the 2000s? Why? '80s games bore me honestly, but I love some '90s and many 2000s games. I've got to say ultimately newer games win, because of graphics increasing immersion (no, I do not whatsoever believe graphics are everything or always make a better experience), voice acting improving immensely, etc. Have you ever watched The Beverly Hillbillies? Yes! Mom loves it so I used to watch it a lot with her as a kid. I'd still watch it. Did your mother ever sing lullabies to you when you were younger? Yes. Are you ready to get out of this town? I HATE THIS TOOOWN, IT'S SO WASHED UUU-UP, AND ALL MY FRIENDS DON'T GIVE A FUUU-UUUUUCK god hell yes get me the fuck out. Do you know anybody that is pregnant right now? Quite a few. What are you listening to? "Superluv” by Shane Dawson. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? No. Does your father have any facial hair? Yes. Did your grandparents teach you anything? My maternal grandmother, the only one I really ever knew, taught me I'm a disappointment, pretty much. And a bitch. Do you want/have a Bachelor’s degree? It'd be nice to have one, but I don't, and I'm not pursuing it again. I've wasted enough of my parents' money. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favourite? Not seriously, but I enjoy them well enough. I like Spider-Man. What did you have for dinner last night? Mom ordered Mexican. I had two shrimp and cheese quesadillas and rice with cheese. Do you think you look similar to your siblings? No. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Did you like it? Yeah, it's fun. Do you know your best friend’s middle name? Yes. Are you close to your father? I am. Have you ever had a serious conversation with your dad? Yeah. Would you rather have long or short hair? I enjoy having short hair way more. Who did you go/plan on going with to prom? I went with Jason twice. Have you ever been to a debate and speech tournament? Hell no, and I never would. Arguing makes me cry lmao. Are you someone who enjoys stand-up comedy? Yep. What’s one thing that scares you about living alone and being independent? A lot of things do, but one thing in specific that I fear is that I let the house become cluttered and messy. I'm so shit at cleaning, especially when I'm depressed. It's why my own bedroom isn't even fully decorated, and we've lived here since I wanna say last November. If someone offered you an all-expenses paid trip to one European country, where would you go and why? Germany, 'cuz I enjoy the culture and would love to try some foods and visit places. Have you ever won anything on the lottery? No. Are you interested in the World Cup? I couldn't possibly care less. What’s the longest time you’ve ever been on a plane for? Idk. Do you let your hair dry naturally or do you towel-dry it or blow dry it? I use a towel to dry it some, then let it really get the job done naturally. How many of the Harry Potter books have you read? None. Who last gave you their number? When I posted on Facebook about going on a mental health hiatus, my good friend Alon messaged me her number if I ever needed to talk. I was really thankful. Are you often the last one to understand a joke? Honestly yeah. I'm slow to grasp a lot of things. Your first black eye: Did you give it or get it? Never gotten or given one. Have you ever slept in a tent, indoors or out? Yes to both. Are you mad right now? I'm annoyed, but not mad. Are you allergic to nuts or dairy products? No. Has anyone ever called the cops on you? No. Do you ever actually drink milk alone? Yeah, I love milk. Do you have a sensitive gag reflex? It is EXTREMELY sensitive. What was the last situation to upset you? I'd rather not talk about it. Have you ever had an online argument? I have been heavily active on the Internet since I was like, 11. Maybe younger. I have been in plenty. Are you at risk for any medical issues? A lot of heart problems run in my family. I'm also suspicious I may develop diabetes, which also runs very heavily in my family. What were you doing at 7:00 a.m.? Surprisingly, I was asleep. Do you own a robe? No. What would you consider your life to be? A wreck. What is your favorite mark of punctuation? I like question marks. Who knows your biggest secret? Nobody. Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Probably not. How do you know? I just doubt it. I'm so unlikable right now. Could you go a day without eating? I don't think I could. I do not react to stomach pain well, and that includes when I'm hungry. How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now? None. What’s your favorite drink? Strawberry Sunkist, but I don't allow myself to have it. I will DESTROY a can or five of it. Who was the last person that texted you? My mom. What are you craving? Nothing really right now. What was the first thing you ate today? An everything bagel. What was the last type of meat you ate? Pork. Have you taken any medication today? Yeah, I take some prescription meds in the morning and at night. Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but that'd be cool. Do you know anyone who has diabetes? My mom, for one. Have you ever made a boy cry? Sadly. Who are you talking to? Nobody. Do you think you’ve ruined your chances with someone? Absolutely. Your parents split; would you want to live with your mom or dad? My parents are divorced, and I stayed with Mom. Would you strongly prefer to go out with someone of your own skin color/racial background? I couldn't care less. For you personally, is abortion an option in case of an accidental pregnancy? For others, absolutely. It's your right. For me myself, it's possible, idk. If I was God forbid raped, I probably would have an abortion. If I accidentally got pregnant in a healthy relationship, I'd probably have a "too bad, so sad" outlook where I'd suck it up and go through with the gestation because having sex and risking pregnancy was my own decision. Even if I'm pro-choice, I think I'd feel too guilty aborting, especially with the child being someone's I love. Is it a requirement that you communicate every day with your significant other (via phone, text, in person, whatever)? IF I had an s/o, no. I like to, but sometimes you just want space. Are you fetish-friendly? I'm not gonna lie, some fetishes are just too fucking weird for me. I TRY not to judge, because I doubt you can actually help fetishes, but I inevitably do sometimes. If you're asking would I engage in fetishes because my s/o liked them, possibly, but it would really depend on what it is. Have you ever cosplayed? No. I think cosplay is really cool, though. Do you support the exploration of outer space? If yes, would you consider taking a trip into space, or even to another planet? As creatures who crave knowledge and understanding of our universe, I do support space exploration, but I do NOT believe we should be spending as much money as we do on it. Taking care of the planet we're actually on is far more important imo. I wouldn't personally go to outer space. Is it okay for men to wear makeup? What’s your opinion of male crossdressers? It's totally okay! Guys with makeup can be super attractive. Crossdressers, too. Go for it. You’re in a new relationship and your partner admits that they have had 14 sexual partners. Does that sound like a lot to you? For me personally, yes. I don't even know if I'd date someone with 14 past sexual partners, honestly. I would admittedly question their loyalty. Would you let your children under 13 watch movies with full nudity? No. If someone asked you, “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” would you know the answer right away? I would. What is your opinion concerning strip clubs? Not my scene at all, but so long as you respect the dancers, whatever. You do you.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''superluv'' by shane dawson

3 notes · View notes

rohad93 · 4 years ago

Text

Worth the Fight: Chap 4

Early the next morning Luz quickly made her way from the inn to the town square with King trotting along at her side, allowing her to make her way through the crowds easily as people moved to get away from the furry, black beast. Luz rolled her eyes at the occasional witch who would practically dive out of the way at the sight of him, she was sure he seemed amused by it though. Her demonic companion just had a way of conveying himself that was easily translatable for Luz and Eda. She finished stuffing the last of her breakfast of bread and cheese into her mouth and tossed King the last scrap of the dried meat as they walked, he caught it, teeth making a loud snapping noise as his jaws closed around it, making a couple of passerby's jump. Without ever actually talking about it, ownership of King had just sort of shifted to Luz, though Eda claimed she’d never owned him, to begin with, he’d just started following her one day. He'd appeared one night, injured and one of his horns freshly snapped off and fell down at her fireside. Eda had tended to him and he’d just never gone away, just like Luz herself. The older knight seemed to have a way of collecting the hurt and hungry.

The sun had only just risen over the city walls, but already the streets were alive with noise and movement. People hocking things on every street corner, yelling to be heard over the crowds, and the other vendors all trying to shout over each other. It was invigorating actually, the liveliness of it all, especially after the dreary little town of Beldville. That and the fact that she didn’t need to walk around with the hood of her cloak pulled up to cover her ears. No one seemed to even look at her twice as she walked around, they had places to be and stuff to do, no time to be needlessly condescending to her it seemed.

She watched the people as they passed, the market was the obvious melting pot of the city, there were beggars lined along the streets, as there were in every city, but there was also common folk, dressed much like her and nobles, easily identifiable by their manner of dress, not fit to work in, and the way they walked around with their noses stuck up in the air.

What Luz didn't see, no matter where she looked, were humans, not that it was very odd. Luz couldn't remember the last time she'd run into a fellow human, maybe not since her mother had died seven years ago. They had lived away from everyone, human and witch, in a little shack on the edge of the woods, in bothered until…

Luz shook her head, casting away the thought, today was the start of a brand new chapter of her life, she wasn't going to dwell on painful memories today.

She straightened and forcefully shoved those memories to the farthest recesses of her mind and with renewed focus made her way to the center of the market, the jovial sounds of the people around her now sound distant and muffled.

The job boards are easy enough to find, three tall, large wooden plaques on stands in the middle of the town square, sitting in front of a large fountain, with various pieces of parchment tacked to them, advertising people's need for labor.

Luz pursed her lips as she looked at all the different jobs, hope falling quickly as she scanned the papers

The job boards are filled with all kinds of tasks, deliveries, or pickups mostly, but a few odds and ends, such as finding someone's lost rooster or foraging for herbs in the woods, none of which interest Luz in the slightest. She was hoping for something a little more exciting, like fighting the cockatrice the other night had been, but the city seems to be rather lacking in beasts running amok at the moment.

She reached up and scratched her new scar with a blunt nail as she thought about that wild adventure. She would be ready next time. She still needed to study her book when she had the time, but later. She focused on the boards.

It’s mostly a lot of the same grunt work or manual labor. She frowned to herself as she looked over the many papers and even a few wanted posters with silver or even gold rewards, but that’s probably a little beyond her experience, wise at this point, that’s going to be a plan 'Z' right now.

She sighed to herself and pulled the slip of parchment out of her pocket, it had a guy's name and the name of a pub Eda had told her was down by the docks. He was supposedly the go-between for the noble families looking to hire and people looking for work.

She really hadn’t wanted to do that, but Eda gave her and King her last meal this morning, from this point on she had to make her own way or go hungry.

She sighed again and squared her shoulders as she turned to make her way down to the docks, it wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but she needed to eat and maybe if she did enough boring grunt work for some nobles she could save up to give herself a cushion so she wouldn’t need to worry about going hungry while looking for other work that was a little more like what she wanted.

‘Hexside’ is already full of patrons drinking the day away when she arrives.

It doesn’t take her long to find the pub in question, it’s sitting right on the water and it looks like every other pub Luz had ever seen in her seventeen years. A large, building with worn, sun-dried wood and drunkards hanging around out front, looking for money to buy more of their liquid diet. She wrinkled her nose at the briny fish smell that filled the air of the docks as they walked up to the doors.

“Wait here, Bud.” She scratched King’s head, leaving him sitting outside as she wedged her way into the dim watering hole and made a beeline for the bar. For being just after sunup the place is already half full and reeks of alcohol and body odor. She would prefer the fishy smell of the docks.

The barkeep gave her a sideways look as she sidled up to the bar, no doubt looking at her ears, she barely resisted rolling her eyes.

“I’m looking for Morton?” she asked him uncertainly and he nodded toward the back, where a skinny guy in dark brown monk robes and a strange conical hat was sitting at a table, a pile of papers in front of him and a mug of mead in one hand.

She pushed her way through the bar toward the little table in the back.

“Morton?” she called and he looked up, tensing, eyes darting around.

“Who wants to know?” He was looking at her cautiously.

“I’m Luz Noceda, I’m looking for work,” she explained.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, you’re Eda’s apprentice, right?” he asked and she nodded. “Yeah, she said you’d be by, I saved a job for ya.” He flipped through the papers and picked one up. “Guard duty for a noble family.”

“Guard duty?” Luz slumped, disappointed as Morton looked back up at her.

“Look, Kid, this is a well paying and relatively easy job, anyone I’ve seen today would kill for this, but I held it back for you as a favor to E, it’s also the only work I have left for the next couple days, so take it or leave it.”

Luz knows that she needs to work, even if it isn’t exactly what she had in mind, it is work and thus, food in her mouth; that motivates her more than anything.

“I’ll take it.” she took the paper being held out to her.

“Good, the noble family are the Blights'. A lot of their usual guards have been sent across the sea to fight in the war, they need to replace the ones that guard their manor, head over there now, that paper will get you in.”

“Thanks,” Luz nodded and turned to go, paper in hand. King jumped up and followed after her as she walked out the door.

“I guess a job is a job if we want to eat, right, Bud?” she looked down at the furry beast that stood as tall as her waist and patted his head.

She had to stop and ask for directions a few times but finally found the large manor on the eastern side of the city, just outside the main walls on a large plot of land and surrounded by a tall, black, wrought iron fence. It was at least three stories and made of smooth almost white stone.

"I guess this is it…," Luz spoke aloud, mostly to herself, but also to King.

A single guard, not much older than her stood outside the gate, looking bored, but he seemed to perk up as Luz approached.

“State your business.”

“I’m here to see… Hieronymus Bump?” Luz glanced at the paper in hand. Was she saying that name right?

The guard took the paper and looked it over before nodding and handing it back.

“Right, follow me.” He jerked his head and led them inside the gate to the manor doors.

“Stay here, King.” She held up a hand and the beast stayed where he was, sitting just outside the gate as she disappeared inside the manor.

“Whoa…,” Luz mumbled to herself as they stepped inside. The reception area is large with smooth polished stone floors and a large staircase that leads up to the second floor before it splits off to the left and right while the sconces that lined the walls glow with fire that she can tell immediately isn't natural, magic of some kind.

The house seemed to be decorated in a dark green and burgundy color scheme. The banners that line the walls feature both colors, with a serpentine creature that could be a dragon or maybe a malformed snake, twisted across the two fields of color and thorny vines wrapped around it.

The rest of the house is just as lavishly decorated as the entryway and she looked around owlishly at everything as the guard led her down the halls before they finally stopped at a door and he knocked.

“Yes?” a deep voice drifted through the door.

“A new recruit, sir.”

“Send them in.”

The guard gestured to the door before walking away as Luz stepped inside, looking around.

It’s a study, the walls are lined with bookshelves, fit too near bursting, and a desk on the other side of the room, from which a man is sitting behind, looking at her with serious, teal eyes.

“We don’t have all day, come in.” He motioned with a hand and she quickly scurried inside, closing the door behind her and moved to stand in front of the desk. The man was elderly and wearing some kind of creature over his head. Luz had to admit, for all the strange things she had seen over the years, that was a new one.

“Your papers?” he held out a wrinkled hand with long pointed nails. Luz handed over the parchment and he scanned it quickly. “You came for one of the guard positions?”

“I did... um, sir.” she nodded and he finally looked at her, really looked at her, and Luz swallowed thickly as his gaze lingered on her ears. Stupid, rounded ears!

“You are?” he questioned.

“Oh, Luz Noceda… sir!”

“I don’t suppose you have any qualifications?” He drummed his fingers impatiently across the polished wood of his desk.

“I’ve spent the last five years training under Eda, the Owl Knight…,” she trailed off. Eda’s name usually garnered one of two reactions, contempt or reluctantly impressed. She was just that kind of person.

The man’s face turned thoughtful for a long moment, stroking his chin with a hand.

“You’re Edalyn’s student, hmm?” His eyes narrowed. “I take that to mean she’s back in town…, just what we need,” he grumbled tiredly. “Very well, hopefully, you won’t cause half as much mayhem as Edalyn,” he grunted, standing and walking around the desk, hands folded behind his back. “I am Sir Hieronymus Bump, the steward of Blight Manor, I see to most affairs in Lord and Lady Blight’s stead as well as serve as a tutor to their children.” He introduced himself as he came to stand in front of Luz. “You will take your orders from me, or a member of the Blight family, and no one else, understood?”

“Uh, yes sir!” Luz saluted, back going ramrod straight and Bump nodded, pleased.

“Let me outline your duties then, you will stay here, in the guard barracks six days of the week, night and day, to perform guard duty for the manor and family as needed…”

Luz mentally deflated at that, she would need to live here until this job was finished. Maybe this wasn’t the job for her. She was just about to voice as much when Bump continued on.

“Meals will be provided to you and every fortnight you will collect your payment of thirty silver a day from me.”

Luz almost choked on her spit at that. Thirty silver a day? That was… a lot of money, She could put a lot of money away for future adventures and she wouldn’t need to spend any of it on food..

“Understood?” Bump is looking at her with a considering gaze and Luz nodded.

“I understand, sir.”

“Very well, go, collect your things and be back before sundown, I will give you your duties to commence first thing in the morning.” He turned and walked back to his desk at the dismissal.

Luz wasted no time disappearing out the door and back to the front door. King’s ears perked up when she approached, trotting across the yard and through the gate.

“Let’s go, Bud, we gotta tell Eda!” She grinned as they raced back through the city toward the Redstone inn.

She couldn’t believe her luck, sure, it was a far cry from the exciting adventures of slaying monsters or hunting down bandits that she had envisioned, but it was a good place to start, for sure.

Eda isn’t there when they get to the Inn, which she should have expected, she was still out on a job no doubt, but Luz had time, she could wait for her mentor to return before she left.

She gathered up her meager possessions in a sack. Some spare clothes, her new magic book, and a small, wooden box that carried her most cherished possession. She ran her fingers over the smooth wood and smiled sadly to herself before she set it carefully in the bag.

It doesn’t take long before Eda returned, looking haggard from her day doing who even knew what.

Luz immediately launched into her story about the job, sparing no detail. Eda whistled.

“Thirty silver a day? That’s a lot of money to stand around looking like you’re busy. This must be one rich family.” Eda hummed, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“I’m not going to help you rob them…” Luz frowned, already knowing by the look on Eda’s face what she was thinking.

“You’re no fun,” Eda grumbled, leaning back on the bed, and crossing her arms. “Good job, Kid. You’ll be great.” She grinned.

“Thanks…” she smiled but Eda could see the unsure look on her face and her voice lacked its usual amount of pep.

“What’s the matter?” she cocked her head. Luz shrugged, making a face.

“I guess it just feels real now, we’re not gonna be traveling or staying together anymore, I’m going off on my own… I’m not your apprentice anymore… I’m going to miss you,” she admitted, looking at Eda, eyes glazing over.

“You’re such a sap,” Eda huffed but smiled as she stood from the bed to stand in front of Luz. “No, we won’t. You’re as ready as you’re ever going to be, you just need experience, and you’re not going to get it following me around, but hey, I think I’m gonna stay in town for some time, so as I said, I’ll be around if you need any advice or just miss this lovely face.” She batted her eyes, making Luz snort. Eda slapped a hand atop Luz’s head, even though she was just as tall as her now, a far cry from when they first met five years ago and ruffled her hair. Luz grinned as she did. “But yeah, I’ll miss seeing you every day too, Luz.”

Without warning, Luz threw her arms around the older witch and squeezed, and for once, Eda didn’t complain about the hug, just squeezed her back for a moment before pushing her back to arm's length.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough affection, you got places to be and it isn’t here being emotional all over me,” Eda smirked, planting a hand on her hip.

“Right!” Luz picked her sack up off the bed and tossed it over her shoulder.

“Don’t forget that one.” Eda jerked her thumb at King, laying sprawled out on her bed without a care in the world. Luz nodded and stuck two fingers in her mouth, giving off a high pitched whistle that made King shoot up off the bed and hop to her side. Eda reached out and scratched the spot between his horns.

“You take care of her, furball,” Eda smirked at him.

King seemed to huff in response, but his eyes narrowed pleasurably as she scratched his head.

“Now get outta here, we’ll see each other again before you know it.” She smiled and Luz nodded, smiling back before she turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. She sighed and straightened up as she turned to King.

"Okay Bud, it's you and me against the world, a woman and her demon wolf!"

King let out a deafening bark in response.

"Get out of here already!" Eda's voice called through the door.

Luz laughed to herself as they trotted down the hall and out of the inn.

#Luz noceda #Eda Clawthorne #King #the owl house #toh #fanfic #eventual Lumity

18 notes · View notes

turqrambles · 4 years ago

Text

The Five Worst Things About Digimon World

I did it.

It took 20 years but I did it.

I finally beat Digimon World for the Playstation 1, a game that has haunted me for most of my lifetime, and I did it with a Phoenixmon, the reason why I use “Turquoisephoenix” as a handle!

This is who I used to beat the game, named after an obscure Ratchet and Clank character because that’s just how I roll. The final boss battle involved a lot of Prominence Beam spamming and med recovery floppy spamming but I did it fair and square.

Before I get into what I thought about this game as a whole - and I do have a lot of good things to say about this game since I obviously enjoyed it enough to get to the end - I gotta talk about my least favorite things about this game. In a concise, Buzzfeed-esque list because I like writing things in easy to digest chunks.

Because, like most charming yet difficult games of the late 90′s, this game is very flawed and the flaws are pretty annoying!

1. Care Mistakes

The three emojis - Smile, Cool, and Poop.

Okay. This one - my least favorite part in the game - is going to take a bit of explanation.

First off, I don’t actually hate care mistakes existing as a mechanic. I think it’s a cute, virtual pet-y way to add a different wrinkle to evolution requirements, even if I think it’s a bit counter-intuitive to have to suddenly abuse my little companion once they reach Champion just because I want them to evolve into a floating metallic ball with a chainsaw.

My problem with care mistakes is that there’s literally no way of telling many care mistakes you have on your given Digimon.

Literally everything else in this game is concisely recorded and easily displayed on your Digimon’s stats screen. You can see how much your Digimon weighs. You can see their Happiness, their Discipline. How much Life they have left. Their Age. Even how many poops they need to make before they digivolve into a sentient pile of feces.

But Care Mistakes? Naaaaw, you just gotta remember every single thing that you did to your Digimon from the moment it evolves in your fallible human brain. What’s that? A good portion of this game involves grinding in the Green Gym and it’s really easy to make a Care Mistake there without knowing you did so because you mashed A too fast like the stat-grinding numskull that you are? Well, that’s just too fucking bad for you, then! Enjoy not getting some of the best evolutions, you piece of shit. You stooge. You moron!

This game, multiple times: You know who I hate? The player.

Care Mistakes are such an invisible mechanic that, to this day, there are many guides with misleading info about what counts as a Care Mistake and what doesn’t, which...really stinks for a game such as this where you will be using a guide pretty extensively to get the Digimon you deserve. And you know why that is? Because we don’t get any indication as to whether or not some random event counts against you when raising your Digimon.

And honestly, having one of your main mechanics of the game being entirely invisible to the player is a terrible idea. Just put a little number in my profile that says “Care Mistakes: 0″ in there. Let me know this information without guessing.

2. The Glitches

Pictured: Something that will CRASH YOUR GAME if you try it on a physical copy.

Let me start with a disclaimer that most of the glitches I’m going to complain about were added into the game when Digimon World was localized and therefore aren’t the original intent of the developers. There are certain versions of Digimon World that are more stable than others (The English PAL version is the best version to play because of this) and, if you play this game via “certain methods”, there are patches to circumvent some of the bigger problems.

That being said! Boy! Isn’t it ironic that a game where I’m exploring the digital world is plagued with so many annoying, game-ruining glitches? Especially if I’m playing this game on a physical 20-year old copy like a dunce?

“Ohhhh...so Agumon thinks that they can block the Digimon game with their big fat Digimon-blocking head, do they?!”

The NTSC version of this game has a jukebox that will crash the game if you try to use it, keeping you from ever using a bonus feature meant to be a fun little reward for completing a certain dungeon, but that’s not as heinous as the Spanish, French, German, and Italian PAL versions of this game locking a good portion of the game to players because they forgot to make the Agumon in front of Ogremon’s Fortress an object you can interact with.

So that means, if you happened to get this game in one of four lucky countries, you can’t complete the Ogremon mission, you can’t recruit Whamon, you can’t recruit Shellmon, you can’t recruit anything tied to Shellmon’s bulletin board (which means no Vademon or Skullgreymon), and you can’t go to Factorial Town and recruit Giromon, Andromon, or Numemon. Ogremon is a key part of the Digimon World storyline and causes so many different things in the game to change, meaning that it should’ve been imperative to make sure this part of the game works!

But no. Instead this one little bastard Agumon keeps most players from finishing the game, because it starves players of those PAL regions of a bunch of Prosperity points, the main source of progression in this game. That means that Mt. Infinity and the final boss is just that much harder to unlock. It’s doable, but it’s more grueling process.

This really is a problem with the translators and really highlights a lack of general care with testing this game. Why this game was allowed to be shipped with such glaring bugs is anyone’s guess, especially in an era where you couldn’t release any patches over the Internet to fix retail versions.

3. The Monochromon’s Shop Minigame

Ohhhh....this one was so close to getting the top spot. When I first wrote this draft, this was the top spot.

Monochromon was only spared of my true ire on account of the fact that it really only exists for one part of the game (rather than being a constant problem like the Care Mistakes and the Glitches are) and you can easily cheese it by sleeping in front of the store so that you can save scum your way to victory. Like a true Digital Champion!

At one point in the game, you gotta help a entrepreneur dinosaur rhino man make a profit, because he was stupid and put his convenience store in the middle of a giant canyon next to a gaping chasm. So you play a little game of haggling, where you try to ruthlessly oversell a bunch of random items to customers until you make enough of a profit that this talking dinosaur tells you that you passed his secret test of character, abandons his store, and moves into File City.

There’s just one problem with this minigame - everything is decided by RNG.

“Get the hell out of my shop”

This minigame hates you. It wants nothing but to see you fail and to waste your time. The difference in profit margins of the three items (Meat sells for 50g, Portable Potties sell for 300g, and Medicine sells for 1000g) are so stark that, if you get too many customers asking for Meat, you might as well just reset the game and start over because it will be literally impossible to meet the requirement even if you busted the customer’s proverbial balls and squeezed every last bit out of their cutesy penguin faces.

Oh! It’s also RNG as to whether or not your customers will take your asking price or storm out of the store without buying anything!

It’s all the fun of working at retail! In a video game!

4. Three on One Battles

What you see before you is a battle system that is really fun when it’s one vs. one, manageable at two vs. one, and downright unbearable at three vs. one.

The battle system works for the most part. You don’t have full control of your Digimon (and yes, you only have one Digimon with you at one time, so you can never stack the numbers in your favor) so you shout commands at it, commands that the Digimon’s AI are pretty good at following, and hope for the best as you chuck healing items at it.

It’s not the best battle system, but it’s fun. And it definitely reinforces the whole “this is a pet you’re taking care of with its own thoughts and feelings” atmosphere that this game is going for.

However, nothing can protect your Digimon from enemy fire concentrated on them, especially if you did the thing that most players do and equipped your Digimon with the most powerful attacks that also happen to have slower cast times than the faster, weaker attacks.

What then happens is your Digimon’s Health is slowly whittled away as you are powerless to stop it, watching as your digital friend is straight up bullied by enemy Digimon as they keep falling to the ground over and over and over and over again.

The one saving grace is that Friendly Fire exists in this game so that oftentimes the enemy Digimon will damage each other in their mad dash to ruin your day, but that seems more like a band-aid than an actual fix to this system.

5. Fishing Seadramon

“Hi, kid. Let me guess - you also thought you had to talk to the Tankmon in Factorial Town in order to unlock me, huh.”

This one is a lot less of a pain than the other four and it’s only a little annoying but boy...getting Seadramon kinda sucks in this game.

It took me almost a goddamn hour to catch Seadramon. One hour of gameplay devoted to catching one fish. Just like real fishing!

I will say, besides Seadramon, the fishing minigame in this game is pretty competent. It’s just that Seadramon is very elusive, showing up at only two hours in a 24 hour day, and is a very finicky fish that won’t take your bait even if you literally placed it in front of his dumb fish face.

Don’t be fooled by this screenshot. The heart just means you have the right bait. The heart means that you didn’t actually get within range of hooking him.

IT’S RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!!!

Seadramon is also subject to almost as many gaming myths as the Care Mistakes are, due to how elusive he is, but that’s less to do with poor communication (the game does at least explain multiple times in multiple places how to find him) and more to do with the fact that catching him is just such a goddamn chore to do that players of this game always assume they’re doing something wrong.

When in reality, Seadramon is just a picky little bitch.

Next time I discuss Digimon World, I’ll talk about things I liked, don’t worry. I just had to get all of this negativity out before discussing the full game proper.

#Digimon World #Turq Reviews #Turq Plays a Game

14 notes · View notes

loveafterthefact · 4 years ago

Text

Love After the Fact Chapter 66: On the Road Again

Lance makes a confession and tells Keith a story.

First Previous Next

Lance’s eyes scan the rocky foothills’ landscape. In the past few vargas, they’ve passed kilns, tanneries, quarries, gardens, orchards, and vineyards tumbling over the uneven terrain beneath the terraced mountain civilization. Now, he and Keith find themselves at the edge of the foothills, where the last of the mountainous landscape fades into rocky tundra. This is a more arid part of Daibazaal, though parts of it are temperate, or even tropical. And then there’s the vast grassy marsh at the equator, which filters all the water south until the continent slips into the sea.

Lance has since learned that the large body of water he’d seen from space is in fact salt water, and it’s so large that crossing it takes an entire quintant.

He won’t see the sea on this visit, but he’s already promised himself he’ll come back. The tundra, however, is spellbinding. On either side of the road are flowers in shades of yellow, pink, blue, orange, and white with thick, waxy, bluish-green leaves. Among the flowering hills with twisty-trunked trees, are small mounds, topped with little towers of stacked stones. Some have toppled over. Others have small nests in the gaps. Others are held in place with vines and foliage.

Cairns, marking ancient burials, Keith told him a ways back.

Ahead is a river, one so wide, so deep, and so fast that they need a bridge to cross it. Lance can already hear the water, and given how one of Keith’s ears is rotating in every direction, and the other is fixed on the rushing water, so can he. Every now and then, the ears switch duties, keeping an eye out for the many predators that call Daibazaal home.

It's the cutest thing Lance has ever seen.

Keith halts his bull elk by the river, leads him forward to drink. Lance follows his lead. Rubbing Bruna’s furry neck as she drinks at the river’s edge. They’ve been riding all morning, and it’s time for a rest, and some lunch.

Wrapped in leaves, Lance finds some bread, dried meat, and a soft, somewhat amorphous white substance. He sniffs the substance, finding it has a bit of a stink to it. It also smells… good? Somehow?

“Beloved?”

“Hm?”

“What the quiznak is this?”

“Oh. Cheese.”

“Cheese? What’s in it?”

“Milk. From the elk.” Keith pulls out his blade, slicing a bit off the lump, spreading it on the bread. “Try some. If your body produces lactase. Otherwise, do not.”

“I do. Some plants on Altea have lactose. Milk does, too?” At Keith’s nod, Lance shrugs, taking a bite of the offered food. It’s good. Salty, a bit gamey, a little nutty? No matter how Lance thinks to describe it, cheese sounds absolutely disgusting, but it’s delicious.

Keith hands him a wrinkled red fruit that looks past its prime. “Here, try this purp fruit. I know it looks gross, and I think they’re disgusting, but Lotor likes them a lot, so you probably will too.”

Lance takes a bite, humming as sweet, syrupy juices explode over his tongue. It’s delightful, probably the sweetest thing he’s tasted since arriving on Daibazaal. The taste sours almost instantly as Lance remembers something he’d said earlier. “Hey, Keith? There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Okay?”

“I may have made a deal with my father that we would return to Altea as mates.”

“You what?” Keith stares at his spouse, clearly displeased. His ear pin back against his head, tail twitching back and forth. “That wasn’t your place to say. At all.”

“I know. I thought it was fine, since it’s not like he’d actually do anything if we didn’t, but I also didn’t say anything, so… I got the feeling I was in the wrong.”

Keith stares at him, fur bristled, murmurs, “Did you mean it?”

“No! I-” The Altean’s shoulder sag. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so,” Keith echoes. “So you assumed that we would, and figured that meant it was fine for you to agree to those terms.”

“...I suppose,” Lance mumbles.

Keith shakes his head, disappointed in his spouse. Not that he’d say that. Nothing damages a person like hearing their loved one is disappointed in them. “Why, Lance? Why would you agree to that? You’ve kept me safe all this time. What changed?”

“He made it a stipulation of our trip to Daibazaal. I should have argued the point, but I just wanted to get you here as fast as possible. I wanted to make sure that happened, with as little trouble or wasted energy as possible, and as little stress to you. Still, I was careless, and thoughtless, and I am so. Sorry, Keith.”

The Galra sighs, staring at his mate. “Well, you told me, and I know you wouldn’t have forced yourself on me, so I’ll forgive you. This time. But even though I’m mated to you, you can still lose my respect, and my trust. Just like I can lose yours.”

“I know, I know.” Lance’s ears droop. “The idea that I could have damaged this…” He shakes his head.

“It’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Keith murmurs, letting the hurt ease away as he gazes over the river, watching the wind move through the tundra flora. “You’re reasoning saved your ass though, just so you know.”

Lance chuckles, still subdued as he picks at the last of his food. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m upset, but we’re gonna be okay.” Keith takes Lance’s hand, squeezes it tight. “You haven’t ruined this. Your intentions were good, if a bit careless, and we’re going to be fine.”

“Okay…”

“You need to be careful, though. It’s not like you to make hasty promises like that. We can't rule like that, so it can't become a habit.”

“I know,” Lance groans, carding a hand through his white hair. “The Ancients are going to smite me if I can’t get my shit together!”

Keith licks his lips, anxious. He still trusts Lance, and his intentions, no matter how misguided in practice. And the man clearly recognizes that he’s been an idiot. Now, he just wants to move on. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” The Altean rests his head against Keith’s shoulder. Keith wraps his tail around Lance’s waist.

“What happened to Romelle?”

“Ah. It’s kind of a long story...”

Alfor leaned against the control board of their small craft, shaking. On either side of him, Romelle and Honerva stood in awe as they gazed at the sight before them. A white hole, light pouring in seemingly endless arcs of light.

“I can’t believe it,” the blonde girl breathed. “We’re finally here.”

“Everything we’re searching for, everything we could ever want, is right here before us,” Alfor murmured. They stared a moment longer, then the king gave a cocky grin he’d later dread seeing on his son. “Let’s go get it!”

The women giggled, giddy on new discovery, as they hurried to their control panels, Alfor at the helm. They were here for everything they could possibly get, and the adventure, but also with a specific goal in mind.

Oriande, among other things, reportedly had its own unique flora and fauna, from which Altea’s organic life had evolved. It was possible, perhaps even probable, that they could find a cure for the thing that killed his wife.

“Wait. What exactly happened to your mother ?”

"A fungus. They found a capsule in her reading room. It... It grew up underneath her scales, and made them die and fall off."

"That's... horrific. I can't believe anyone would do that!"

“Mnh.” Lance sighs. “They cut me out of her as soon as they could so I wouldn’t die with her. They put me in a pod for phoebs, until I could breathe on my own and they were sure I didn’t have the same thing.”

“What an awful way to die,” Keith whispers, thinking about watching his power and lifeforce fall away from his body before his very eyes.

“Romelle’s brother died later from the same thing. We still don’t even know where it came from. We couldn’t figure out how to kill it. It kept spreading even when they were put in suspension.”

“Does Romelle know?”

“I’m not sure. We told her, but…”

“I don’t understand!” Romelle clinged to her research console, staring at the apparition formed from the light of the white hole. “Why won’t it let us pass?!”

Alfor glared at the ghostly obstacle, pale blue scales flaring in time with his frustration. “Try again. If it doesn’t let us pass, we’ll pull back and think of a new strategy.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Honerva did as she was told, wheeling their craft back around, soaring through space, dodging the arcs of light curling from the white hole. The apparition struck again, sending them spiraling into another arc of light. The entire ship shuddered and creaked, threatening to come apart as it was assaulted by pure energy.

Alfor fell to the floor, wrapped his arms around the leg of the console. He heard a crash from behind him and assumed they’d taken some kind of damage. Once the ship settled, however, it became clear that wasn’t the case.

Romelle was on the floor, Honerva leaning over her, dark hair falling from it’s usual bun. “Alfor…”

The girl was bleeding profusely, gray matter visible from a gaping wound in her head.

“Ancients… Pick her up. We have to put her in a pod.”

“Alfor that could kill her!”

“What about her exposed brain? Couldn’t that kill her?”

Honerva grew pale beneath her orange, green-tinted scales. She nodded, scooping the girl into her arms as Alfor rushed to calibrate a pod to preserve her life.

As Honerva prepared to take them home, Alfor turned back to the formidable white hole. He’d been so close. He could practically smell that familiar, unfamiliar atmosphere just beyond these outer limits.

Were it not for the beast that guarded it...

“So what happened to Romelle?”

“My father spent decaphoebs rebuilding her brain. At first, everything seemed fine. That’s when she and Allura got close, and fell in love. But not long after that… She started talking about odd things. Guardians and descendants and glass that is water but also holding water and a blue ember growing cold. Weird stuff. Eventually, that took up more and more of her. I think that’s all that’s left now.

She doesn’t recognize Allura. I don’t think she even knows Allura’s pregnant. I’m not sure she even knows who she is, or that she’s a person. Alfor says that trying to fix her is just doing more damage and causing her pain. As much as I hate it, I think he’s right.”

“I wonder what she means,” he whispers. “I wonder what she’s trying to tell us.”

“I don’t know,” Lance murmurs. “But whatever it is, she’s too far gone to understand it herself, let alone tell us.”

“Right…” Keith frowns, unsure what to make of the story, but he lets it go for now. He’s heard Romelle speak plenty of times before he moved to Altea, Allura having gone out of her way to visit with him and try to ease his anxiety. It always sounded like nonsense.

All the same, he has a nauseous feeling that Romelle’s ramblings aren’t ramblings at all.

Keith stares at Lance’s scales, glittering up and down his arms, exposed by his rolled up sleeves. Blue, shining red in the light. Water and fire.

Suspend the ember in water. Stall its final breath.

The guardian waits for the descendant.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

7 notes · View notes

ladyreapermc · 5 years ago

Text

Fic: Parent Trap 4/10 (Keanu x Reader)

Summary: Annie and Hallie are twin sisters who never met until they end up in the same summer camp together. They decide to switch places to see how the other lives. Hallie heads to Los Angeles to meet Keanu, owner of Arch Motorcycle Company, while Annie goes to New York to meet you, rising fashion designer and their aunt. Their plan is simple: get their parents together to make the perfect family. If only it could be that easy… Previous chapters: prologue | 1 2 3:

Author’s notes: So here we are, back with parent trap. I shall remember for future references that I can’t manage two series at once. Anyway, let’s get to it and as usual feedback is always greatly appreciated.

Wordcount: 3404

Warnings: none. Just lots of fluff

You looked away from the blank page of your sketchbook and across the cashier’s counter to Hallie. It had been a couple of days since the girl had returned home and to your surprise, she asked to come to the store with you.

It wasn’t completely unusual for her to come. There was a nice bookstore a couple of stores over and she sometimes liked to spend time reading there. The elderly couple that owned the place pampered Hallie with cookies like she was their grandkid and in turn, she helped them with computer stuff and small tasks around the shop.

What was surprising was to see Hallie browsing the racks of clothes in the store, picking up a few pieces and bringing with her to mirror to check it out, adding this and that accessory to see how she could look on the outfit. Once in a while, she would ask if there were any of them in her size and if she could have it.

That along with all the other odd things you had been noticing about your niece were starting to, well not exactly worry you, more like get you to notice and pay attention even more than usual. It was all small little things, like going off meat and making sure to stylish her hair every morning or how she would try to sneak some ham pieces to Salem to get the cat to come over or how she was always on the phone…

Of course, you didn’t expect her to stay the same forever. Hallie was a teenager, she was growing up, discovering herself and what she liked, who she wanted to be. It was just weird to witness the process and how fast it seemed to be happening. You didn’t remember going through so many changes at once. Then again, your teen years had been spent under Mary’s shadow since she demanded so much attention from your parents.

You were the quiet kid, the one that didn’t give any trouble. Maybe that was why you didn’t feel like much had changed for you. You were always the one that spent hours in your room, either reading or drawing, Mary was the one with all the friends and parties and behavior issues. Now here you were, raising her child, while Mary…

Letting out a sigh at your gloomy thoughts, your attention shifted to the board you built as inspiration for your new collection. Color pallet and textures, geometric figures and flowers and movies and songs, they all called to you whenever you were trying to create, but it almost felt like this time you couldn’t get anything down on paper and it was getting so frustrating.

“You have that look on,” Maggie said, coming from storage with a few new outfits to change the mannequins. “The I can’t draw and I want to punch something look. It’ll come to you. Just be patient.”

“I didn’t know you had a name for it,” you chuckled, setting the pencil aside. “And I can’t afford to be patient, we have bills to pay.”

Once again you sighed, reminded of the three envelops of overdue charges that you stuck in your drawer on Friday. You needed a new collection ASAP and it needed to do well otherwise the store would have to close doors and everything you and Maggie had fought for would be over.

She had been with you since the beginning, the marketing and sales guru to your artistic tendencies. Maggie was the one to suggest the store in the first place. The one who built the website for online shopping… Basically, she was the one that made all of this possible and you couldn’t even deliver your end.

“We still have some savings to hold us until next month,” Maggie assured, squeezing your shoulders. “Just go easy on yourself, enjoy your time with Hallie and it will happen.”

At the mention of your niece’s name, you turned your attention at the girl again. She was spotting one of the dresses on sale, along with the personalized denim jacket you made for her, her battered old converse and a pair of aviators from the store. She looked amazing and stylish and you stood up, picking up the camera you kept in the store.

You were hoping to sneak a picture since you knew Hallie hated them, but as soon as she saw the camera, she actually struck a pose for you. Deciding to think about it later, you snapped several pictures of the girl noticing she had a natural talent for modeling.

“Put this one on, please,” you asked, giving Hallie one of the daisy overshirts from the latest collection and she dutifully obeyed before you led her outside where the light was better.

You got lost in the process of taking pictures. It had been quite a while since you had done it. Usually, Maggie was the one to take pictures for the store social media so you forgot how this could be fun, especially with such a willing model. Hallie worked effortlessly through the suggested poses, only pausing to change outfits, always with a wide smile in her face.

“What do we have here?” the familiar smooth baritone of Jason brought you back to the present and you realized it was almost noon. “Hallie willingly letting her picture to be taken?”

You put the camera down, tilting your head to receive the kiss Jason pressed on your cheek, his hand resting on the small of your back as he looked over at Hallie, which made your attention turn to her as well.

Hallie loved Jason. He was like an uncle to her, but right now she was looking from him to you to the point of contact between you two with a deep frown. You didn’t know why her stare made you self-conscious, but you stepped away so Jason was no longer touching you and offered him a quick smile.

“I guess she was feeling generous,” you joked weakly and Jason at least flashed a smile back, but Hallie didn’t react at all.

“Well, I hope I’m not interrupting. Just thought I could take my two favorite girls to lunch.”

His smile widened all white teeth and sweet dimples. His blue eyes warm and hopeful and you felt the familiar warmth in your chest as you nodded, glancing at Hallie once again.

“That sounds great, doesn’t it, Hal?”

“Sure,” the girl replied dryly. “I’m gonna change.”

She was gone before you could even think about saying anything else, leaving you to stand alone with Jason in awkward silence.

“Is everything ok?” he asked, with a confused frown and you just shrugged because you had no idea.

The walk to the deli was made in a strange silence because every time Jason tried to strike up a conversation, Hallie would just give him monosyllabic responses and whenever he tried to talk to you, she would just give you two this look and any conversation would simply die down.

You wished you knew what was happening, why she was being so cold with Jason, but you couldn’t just ask when he was right there. It would be rude.

“Did I do something?” Jason asked when Hallie excused herself to go to the restroom. “I mean, she’s usually hard to please, but today…”

“I don’t know,” you sighed and shrugged. “She’s just…” you trailed off, unsure what to say because how could you definite it without being weird?

“Anyway…” Jason started, thankfully moving on from the subject. “I ran into Becky yesterday.” You just arched your eyebrow at him in expectation, because whenever he ran into his ex trouble seemed to follow. “She’s helping to organize this fashion show in Los Angeles and one of their designers dropped off last minute so I kinda showed some of your stuff and she was interested.”

You froze, bagel halfway to your mouth. Did you just hear Jason right? He had asked his ex-girlfriend, a woman you couldn’t stand, for a spot on her fashion show on your behalf.

“I know what you’re thinking…” Jason started and you snorted.

“I don’t think so.”

“Seriously, I know you have your issues with Becky, but this a real chance for you and the store.” You hated that he was right.

“When is it gonna be?”

“In two weeks,” he said with a grimace. “And it has to be all-new pieces.”

“Fuck!”

You had been struggling for a month to get anything on paper and now you had to have an entire collection ready in two weeks. You wiped the cream cheese filling that has spilled from your bagel on the napkin and looked out the window. There was no way you could do it. But if you didn’t do it, you’d be missing a huge opportunity.

“Alright,” you sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose. “Tell her yes.”

“You can do this,” Jason said with a smile, taking your hand across the table. “I believe in you.”

You wished you could be as confident in yourself as Jason seemed to be, but right now a knot of anxiety had just formed in your belly, the loose ends snaking around your chest, squeezing your lungs and making it harder to breathe.

“I should get going,” you sighed, grabbing your things just as Hallie finally emerged from the restroom, her expression lighting up as she noticed you were getting ready to leave. “Talk to you later.”

“Bye Justin!” Hallie called out over her shoulder with a barely disguised smirk as she followed you outside, her own uneaten veggie sub in hand.

“What was that?” you asked with a suspicious frown as the two of you made your way back to the store. “Justin?”

“I messed up his name. Sorry.” She shrugged looking to anyone else like the picture of innocent, but you knew better. So you just stared Hallie down, eyebrow crocked up in expectation, arms crossed over your chest. “Fine!” she sighed. “What’s up with you and Jason?”

You weren’t expecting this question and it took you by surprise, making you start walking again as a way to avoid Hallie’s piercing green eyes. She always had a way to look at you that made you just talk about anything even if she was just a kid and you shouldn’t just tell her everything you were feeling.

“He’s a friend, you know that,” you said trying to take the safe path out of this mess.

“Who’s clearly in love with you and you know it, Dave,” Hallie pointed out, quickening her step so she could step in front of you, making you halt. “Do you love him back?”

Of course, it would be Hallie to voice out the question that had been running through your head for years. Did you love Jason back? A part of you wanted to say yes. He was your best friend and had been with you through thick and thin.

He had been there through your parents’ death and Mary’s crisis and her death… He was there through all. He was that person you called when everything turned to shit and part of you knew you loved him. Of course, you did. You just…

“You love him but you’re not in love with him,” Hallie said with a soft smile and you huffed a breath, relief mixed with surprise. When did your kid turn that perceptive?

“I guess,” you shrugged, wrapping an arm around her shoulder so you could restart their walk. “I don’t really know why. He’s great, he’s just not…”

“What you want,” Hallie cut in, as usual, reading your mind and you nodded. “But do you know what you want?”

You thought about it for a moment, considering all the men you had been in love through your life. It had been many, especially not since Hallie, but there were two or three that left you wishing it could have turned into something more.

“He has to be good with kids,” you said at last. “And have a good sense of humor. He needs to understand that you and the store are my priority right now and he needs to have his own thing. I don’t like clingy guys.” You mused a little more, bottom lip caught between your teeth. “He needs to be kind, you know? And loving and supportive.”

As you spoke, you could see Hallie’s smile growing, her eyes looked brighter and excited like she was in on a secret that you weren’t, but you decided to let it go for the time being.

“And he needs to know how to cook, because you know I’m hopeless,” you joked, making Hallie laugh. “So if you know anyone like that, please send him my way?”

“Absolutely, Dave!” Hallie said with a quick wink just as you reached the store.

---

Keanu hummed happily as he busied himself with kneading the dough, a big smile on his face at his family was together joking and laughing as they got everything ready for pizza night as per tradition. It was the first since Annie returned from camp so he was determined to make sure she enjoyed it as much as always.

He would never admit it aloud, but ever since she asked for the camp, Keanu had been silently panicking. Annie was the most important person in his life right now and the thought of her growing up and slowly distancing herself, learning to be more and more independent, terrified him.

Keanu knew that he was being irrational. Annie wasn’t a baby anymore. She was a teenager and of course, she needed her independence and he needed to give her that. Help her build her life. And it wasn’t as if he was one of those parents that live for their kids. Yes, Annie was his priority, but he had Arch and his friends and family. He had a life. Which mostly consisted of his work life lately, but it was still a life, right?

Even if he couldn’t remember the last time he went on a real date with someone he really cared about. Maybe it was time to put himself out there again. Keanu wasn’t getting any younger and even if he had more or less gave up on his idea of the perfect little family, he still wanted to have someone in his life. Someone to share things, to love and support and who would do the same for him. Someone who understood Annie’s place in his life as well as Arch’s and how that didn’t mean Keanu would love them any less. Someone to share the wins and losses, someone to be his partner. Someone…

“Ke, I think the dough is good,” Karen called out making him snap out of his musings and look at her.

She was giving him a half-amused, half worried look from where she was cutting up the veggies for the topping. In her eyes, Keanu could see the silent question: was he ok? Did he need to talk about it?

He sighed and surveyed the kitchen. Annie was working on grating the cheese, while her cousin Daisy worked on the sauce. They were talking quietly and laughing like the great friends they were and Keanu smiled.

Even if he didn’t get that partner that he envisioned, he still knew he would be a pretty happy man. He was luckier than most.

“I’m good,” he whispered to Karen, wiping his hand on his apron, so he could pick up the pizza trays and olive oil spray so they could start spreading the dough. She just nodded in reply, her attention turning the two tweens to check their work.

It took longer than usual to get the two pizzas ready for the oven. One completely meat-free for Annie and Daisy and a pepperoni one for himself and Karen. Keanu really admired his daughter's stances on animal cruelty and he knew she wanted to go completely off animal products, but he still couldn’t bring himself to let her. Not yet at least. And it became something they could bond over, cooking together and the least fun bit of cleaning up together too.

“How long until they’re ready?” Annie asked, gathering the topping ingredients to store in the fridge. “I’m starving.”

Keanu checked the timer before turning to Annie to reply just to freeze as she casually popped a piece of pepperoni in her mouth. He glanced at Karen and his sister had the same bewildered expression that he sure was in his own face.

“Annie, what are you doing?” Daisy exclaimed, her tone getting high pitched and Annie stilled, looking at her. “We don’t eat meat!”

Keanu thought Daisy was overreacting a little bit, but the younger girl idolized Annie, following her around like a shadow whenever she came over to spend the summer and mimicking Annie in all possible ways, from her clothes to favorite music genre and lifestyle choices. Daisy had even gone off meat as well and he knew it was more to impress Annie than out of any real belief of her own.

“Right!” Annie said, looking alarmed as she glanced at her cousin. “Well, the camp had such terrible vegetarian options that I have to go back to eating it, but I’m going off again.”

She put the bowl of pepperoni away almost as if it had burned her before flashing a small sheepish smile to everyone in the kitchen. Keanu just shrugged. Sure it was weird because he was pretty sure he remembered something about the vegetarian menu in the camp as a criterion for her choice, but maybe it was just bad?

To him, it wasn’t a big deal. Annie was learning about herself every passing day and she was bound to go through changes. And sure, ever since she came back from camp, those changes seemed more prominent and it almost felt like Keanu was faced with a brand new Annie, but she was his daughter. She would always be his daughter, no matter how many little or big changes she went through.

So he pushed out of his mind, heading off to the back porch with Karen and some wine so they could watch the stars and talk while Daisy and Annie went to her room to do their hairs or something else.

Keanu laid back on one of the porch chairs, keeping a bit of a distance from his sister as he puffed in his cigarette, deep in thought. He could hear Karen shifting in her own seat, her intense gaze, much like his own, set on him.

“So mom is coming over next week,” she said conversationally and Keanu just nodded. He knew it already. “She has news to share.”

“Which usually means she has a new boyfriend,” Keanu sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Hope he’s not a dick like that Richard guy.”

“Me too,” Karen snorted. “How come our mom has a better love life than us?”

“I have no idea,” Keanu replied with a chuckle of his own. “Maybe we should ask for tips or something.”

“Maybe.”

“Or maybe we should accept the fate that we’re gonna die single and alone,” he joked dryly and Karen snorted.

“Aren’t you cheerful person, tonight?” she said, giving him the sideways glance. “Is that what got you so moody? Singlehood?”

“Not moody, just…” he paused, considering his words, but he couldn’t find a way to really describe it. “I’m 55. Maybe it’s time to just let go. Dating, I mean. I have my family and Arch and my friends… that’s enough, right?”

“Ke…” Karen let out a long exhale and once again he could feel her gaze on him, heavy and worried. “You’ve always wanted to get married. Maybe it’s taking a bit longer, but you’re gonna find that right person. I’m sure of it.” She reached over to squeeze his hand. “I bet they’re somewhere out there and when time is right, they’ll come into your life. I do believe in fate, you know?”

“Well, could you tell fate to hurry the fuck up?” Keanu joked with a grin, squeezing Karen’s hand back to let her know he was alright and that she didn’t need to worry about him.

And even if she was wrong. Even if that person never came, Keanu knew he would be alright. He had everything he needed right here.

xxx (tbc) xxx

Permanent Tag List (give me a shout if you want to added or removed)

@toomanystoriessolittletime @meetmeinthematinee @theolsdalova @beyond-antares @cumberbatchbaps @sgt-morgan @futuristic-imbecile @a-really-bi-girl @fanficsrusz @poisonedjoinery @soarocks @penwieldingdreamer @partypoison00 @hnryycvll @kevia1000 @krazycags01 @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day @nonsensicalobsessions @alwaydreamingofu

Tag list for Paren Trap

@tnu-ree @babyspiderling

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #fanfic #alternate universe #parent trap #series #request

33 notes · View notes