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celestialsister0918 · 1 year ago

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Fireside: A Sirius Black Christmas Oneshot

Happy holidays, loves! Here is a gift for my Sirius Black friends. Tumblr exclusive for now, probably cross-posted to my AO3 and Wattpad eventually.

A few warnings— it’s EXPLICIT smut. 18+ interaction only, please.

It’s a Sirius x You (fem-reader) fic, but you have a House. It was necessary for the plot. Hopefully you are House-flexible or can be for the next 6k+ words.

Get warm and cozy and enjoy… and please let me know what you think… reblogs are much appreciated, as are likes and comments. I love chatting with readers and fellow Sirius lovers.

You stood at the doorway to Number Twelve with your heart beating wildly against your chest. Harry and the other students had left for second term just a few short hours ago, with the Weasleys close behind. They were giving Arthur the chance to continue his recovery at the Burrow, hoping to speed his efforts with the comforts of home rather than the sullen, dreary darkness of Grimmauld Place. At least that’s what you’d overheard in their whispers after last night’s dinner, which had followed the last meeting of the Order for the year.

The whispers, of course, were for the benefit of the one inhabitant of the house who wasn’t granted the choice of leaving. No matter how dark and dreary, no matter how much his spirits needed lifting. And they certainly seemed to need lifting last night. As soon as the meeting had adjourned, Sirius Black retreated upstairs with nary a goodbye. Harry had seemed disappointed at this. It was only natural he’d want to soak up every minute possible with his godfather before returning to Hogwarts. But Black had fallen prey to another “fit of the sullens,” as Molly liked to label them with a disapproving shake of her head.

You understood those types of fits all too well, having suffered your own tragedies throughout the Wizarding Wars, as well as typical adolescent heartaches and disappointments that seemed to continue into your early adult years too. Maybe you simply took things too seriously. Life just seemed to come easy to more carefree witches and the wizards that worshiped them. You’d heard stories that Sirius Black himself used to fall into that lighthearted, devil-may-care category many years ago. But he’d experienced unimaginable darkness, and you knew the last thing he needed was to hide away alone, even if he fought you tooth and nail over it.

With a sharp intake of breath, you broke through the warded door with charms meant only for official gatherings of the Order. You prayed to the gods that there wasn’t some terrible punishment for doing so. You sighed with relief when you were greeted only by the eerie silence of cold, dark air— which was a sound unto itself, strange as that seemed. The familiar dank smell filled your nostrils, but it didn’t bother you. It simply set the ambience of a home filled with magic and mystery and stories, dreaded though some of them may be. The walls were alive with history, and there was something intriguingly romantic about the place, if you were honest. You knew the man you were about to encounter would adamantly disagree and would probably throw you out on your arse for thinking so. You’d be sure to keep your strange admiration for the place to yourself for a while, at least until he warmed up to you a bit.

That could take awhile indeed, you thought grimly. Rather than start on such a task right away, you chose to descend to the kitchen and make yourself a calming cup of tea. Perhaps a drop or two of schnapps for some liquid courage were in order also. As the kettle warmed, you made your way to the flocked tree in the rear of the kitchen and smiled as you studied the ornaments there. Sirius himself had conjured and crafted most of them just days earlier, when he’d been noticeably more joyful. The anticipation of Christmas had lifted him out of his funk, and he’d been determined to replace his family’s fancy heirloom ornaments with much more colorful, animated, and exciting ones. You enjoyed examining them while you waited for the kettle to whistle. They were a glimpse into his true self— the fun, whimsical side you always heard about in tales from the older Order members.

You’d seen that side a bit in your interactions with him so far. He had a certain glint in his eye as he teased you for your lack of coordination, which coincidentally had landed you in his lap one evening when you’d hooked the toe of your boot unceremoniously under the crossbar of the wooden kitchen bench.

“I- I’m so sorry,” you had stammered, your face painfully hot. He’d caught you with an arm scooped under your back.

“I’m not,” he’d quipped back with a glimmer in his blue gray eyes. And he’d given your thigh a couple quick pats with his large palm, just fatherly enough that you weren’t quite sure if he saw you as a cute, clumsy, overgrown kid— or something a bit sexier, as that glimmer in his eye along with his comment might have suggested.

Subsequent meetings were difficult after that fateful fall. You couldn’t stop your eyes from straying in his direction. In spite of his scraggly, unkept stubble and perhaps accelerated aging from Azkaban, he was undoubtedly a beautiful man. The Black family genetics were famous for a reason. Their symmetry and grace, smooth skin, full and shiny hair, and silky, aristocratic voices were mesmerizing. It was no wonder they drifted toward the Dark Arts; with gifts like that, they could clearly coerce lesser mortals into doing anything.

Sirius was made only more handsome by the tattoos that covered the previews of skin he revealed— a sexy “fuck you” to the house, the Black family line, and anyone who may chide him for daring to be different. You admired the confidence his swaths of ink portrayed, and each passing meeting made you yearn to study them up close. For academic purposes, of course. Continuing education in Ancient Runes. Field work.

“Do you not take sugar in your tea?”

The voice was quite light and innocent, but it startled you so much you spilled said tea straight through the holes of your wool sweater.

“Fuck!” you hissed. “You scared me, Black.”

He smiled and strode behind you, reaching around your front to grasp a kitchen rag that hung from the lower cupboard handle. He spun you around with hands on your upper arms and promptly began absorbing the spill. Of course he could have taken care of it with a mere wand wave. Interesting that he chose the more manual route.

“I scared you?” Sirius mused. “And to think you’re the one breaking and entering and stealing my tea. Which, strangely, you’re sipping black at the moment. Is this because you don’t know where to find the proper accompaniments, or are you simply that odd?”

“Simply that odd, I’m afraid,” you admitted, leaning back against the wooden counter with legs outstretched. “I like it black. Enjoy the flavor.”

This was met with a slightly arched eyebrow, but he recovered quickly and reached around you again to grab his own mug.

“I prefer it quite sweet, and loaded with cream, personally,” Sirius commented, voice still maddeningly silky and light. It tickled over your eardrums like a melody. His tongue snaked out as he tilted the mug to his lips and slurped.

“Don’t you Blacks have to attend some finishing school before you’re sent to Hogwarts?” you teased him. “Don’t they teach you not to slurp there?”

Sirius didn't miss a beat. “You’ll find I’m a bit of a dog, darling. I’m rather noisy and messy with my mouth.”

That rush of heat filled your cheeks again, and you found yourself trembling a little with adrenaline at how quickly things had escalated. Or did they? The conversation was quite innocent, on a service level. Perhaps your building desire for him had you reading things that weren’t there. You decided to change the subject and try to calm your racing blood.

“You seem quite a bit… happier… than the other day,” you offered as he continued to enjoy his tea. “Did you have a nice day today?”

Sirius seemed to snort. “I had a fucking awful day. How could I have anything but in a place like this?”

“I’m sure it’s not so bad, with the right company,” you pointed out nervously, suddenly scared you might piss him off enough that he’d order you to leave.

“I’ve had nothing but company for weeks,” he replied. “It can help, I suppose. But I’m still trapped.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say to this, so you busied yourself with your own mug, roving the kitchen slowly to avoid eye contact while you plotted where to go next.

“Is that why you’re here?” Sirius continued softly. “Do you believe you’re the ‘right company?’” His expression seemed skeptical.

You shrugged shakily. “I— I dunno. I guess I just thought… you shouldn’t be alone. I… I like being alone occasionally. But you… you don’t really seem like that type.”

“Not a bit,” he agreed. “But it’s not just about the company. It’s about experiences. And I’ve experienced everything there is to do here. Millions of miserable times over.”

You bit your lip, knowing you could never be so bold as to suggest novel experiences he might try. You were pretty sure he hadn’t had many of those— if any— within these walls. Not with multitudes of pureblood portraits staring him down. Of course he very well could have fooled around with pureblood girls here growing up, right? Just because he wasn’t a supremacist like his forebears didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a dip in the pureblood pool from time to time.

“So,” he continued, addressing you by your name as he crept closer, step by step. “What experiences are you bringing with your company? How will you keep me from being bored?” His eyebrows arched and narrowed adorably with his words as he challenged you.

He stopped just short of invading your space, so you could still view him easily from head to toe. He wore a thick velvet robe in deep burgundy overtop a black and green pinstripe shirt that was honestly a bit… Slytherin-like, when taken in isolation. Perhaps he hadn’t invested in a new wardrobe upon his return and simply relied on the house’s contents. But it suited him nonetheless— this regal contrast of the two houses adorned with his double Albert chain and shiny brown dress shoes. Of course the colors were befitting the season as well, a reminder that Christmas joy still lingered in the air, if one looked for it. You imagined that the house once saw splendid Christmas feasts— glittering, elegant affairs filled with firelight and extravagance as the Wizarding World’s upper crust filled every floor. Personally you enjoyed picturing something more intimate, more cozy, within those old walls.

“Let’s light a fire,” you suggested, setting your teacup down and leading the way to the parlor.

Sirius scoffed behind you but followed nonetheless. “Why would we do that? The entirety of the house is under a warming charm, darling.”

“Hogwarts has fires in the common rooms, does it not? They were nice.”

“Nice, but obviously unnecessary,” he continued practically.

“You need some actual warmth in this place,” you insisted, setting to work lighting the floo. “The kind of warmth that feels good on the inside too. Comfort. A glow.”

“You’re a Hufflepuff, aren’t you?” Sirius asked with a snicker, reclining in a large, faded velvet armchair. He spread his legs in a wide slouch, and you couldn’t help but gaze downward at the movement. Thick, ribbed corduroy slacks hugged thin legs and tapered down to fine silk socks, above which you saw the faintest glimpse of pale skin and dark hair.

“What does my house matter?” you returned in a non-answer. The fire roared to life in the large black marble, and instead of joining him in the companion armchair, you chose to settle on the rug right in front of the flames. Your skin was already on fire, of course, from the turn-on of his earlier proximity and banter. But the added warmth felt nice, and you hugged your knees to your chest.

“Your house doesn’t matter,” he agreed. Just simply a guess. Now, what about that experience you’re going to offer me? Still waiting for an answer on that one.” Sirius rested an elbow on the chair arm, his fingers toying with the ends of his long mustache where it met the unruly stubble on his chin.

“Come down here with me. This is an experience,” you responded, patting the empty space next to you on the rug. It was thick and smooth, richly woven, and of course very expensive. You could feel thick loops of fine threads beneath your fingers as you traced its intricate pattern.

“Sitting by a fire?” Sirius asked incredulously. But he did make a move to join you, settling down in the spot you indicated and then shifting closer. His robe brushed the sleeve of your sweater, and he made no move to back away.

“Well, what kind of experience did you have in mind?” you shot back.

Sirius shrugged innocently, eyes twinkling in the dim light. “No idea, love. You’re the one who showed up on my doorstep, remember? Don’t you have a plan for these things? Or are they spontaneous? Maybe you’re a Gryffindor then?”

You gave a small smile, refusing to answer the question. Instead you studied the details of his face you’d never noticed from afar, features augmented by the dancing shadows of light. He had a very well defined facial muscle that gave an intermittent sexy twitch. And another defined crease on the underneath of his nose that made you curious if you had one; you had always just envisioned it to be smooth. But most magnificent was the way the firelight bounced off of every soft curl — a bountiful dark mahogany crown that would be the envy of any woman alive. You longed to run your hands through it, betting it was even more luxurious than the tapestry rug beneath your increasingly aroused bottom half.

“I’m beginning to feel rather exposed,” Sirius declared, amused. “I don’t think I’ve ever been examined in such detail before. Is this for ‘science,’ as the Muggles say?”

You cleared your throat nervously. “Uh, yes. Wizarding genetics, I guess. You’re just very… impressive.” You winced at the terrible recovery.

Sirius responded with a sweep of a tattooed hand over your cheek. “I’m flattered, coming from a witch as exquisite as yourself. Not to mention young. I believe I have quite a few years on you, yes?”

Your heartbeat was painfully audible as you tried to craft an answer. His fingers still explored your face, alternating with occasional twists of an adjacent lock of your hair. Each sweep of his skin over yours seemed to make your veins tremble.

You truly didn’t know how to respond. Your Muggle friend had once informed you that the term for your specific brand of fixation was “daddy kink,” but you weren’t sure admitting that would do you any favors. You liked how his touch was so self-assured, and the richness of his scent, and how he always knew what to say without hesitation. You liked how the hard lines of his face and hands denoted strength and experience. And you liked how he made you feel small and fragile and protected just by being near you. You wished you could tell him all that without sounding ridiculous. But you were fairly certain you were already communicating it with your parted lips, panting breath, and love-drunk eyes.

“You are going to make my night interesting after all, aren’t you, little one?” Sirius husked, and the bud between your legs danced frantically up and down in response. How did he know to call you that? Your eyes closed with the dizziness of your anticipation, and the hand that had drifted so gently over your cheek now rested fully on your throat. His scent became even more pronounced, alerting you to his closeness just before his mustache tickled your upper lip in the briefest of warnings.

The kiss he gave you was chaste and just enough for you to learn the shape of his lips before he pulled away.

“If you don’t want this, you need to tell me,” Sirius said, his voice low as it drifted directly across your ear. “I’ll stop if you ask me to— at any point. But this is the only asking I’ll be doing myself. Once I begin, you’ll find I’m far too busy to stop and check in.”

His forehead rested gently on yours, his deep blue eyes smoky in the dim light.

“Busy doing what?” you whispered— half teasingly, half desperate for the fire between your legs to be stoked by all the dirty things he would promise.

Sirius chuckled lowly. “You like dirty talk, little one?”

Your affirmative answer came as a whimper, which elicited another devilish chuckle from his lips.

“Very well,” he said silkily. He punctuated the words with another firm kiss on your lips, this time allowing the very tip of his tongue to trace the outline of the bottom one before planting light kisses along your jawline to your earlobe. He paused there, allowing a breath to tickle your ear before he spoke.

“I am going to make every part of your body come alive, as if I cast a spell. But there will be no wand— only my hands, my mouth, my voice. I will make your delicious cunt so wet it will be weeping for my cock. Then I will bury it in you so deep you scream… so loud you’ll wake every portrait in this house and make them curse your sweet, beautiful name. You will ride my cock for as many mind-numbing orgasms as your body can handle, then I will take my pleasure and fill you so full of my seed that it trickles down these soft, smooth thighs all day long tomorrow. You’ll feel it and remember me, and you’ll want it all over again.”

Sirius accompanied his filthy murmurings with firm strokes to your inner thigh, hand already buried inside your skirt. You let out an almost agonized groan in response— all intelligible communication now impossible. Your body literally shook just from his promises, and you knew the look you gave him as he came to a kneel on the rug was one of complete and utter submission.

His hands came beneath your head to cradle it, hands swept in the tangle of your hair as kisses became more insistent, open-mouthed, and allowed you taste the salt and firewhisky on his breath. His tongue explored in gentle licks followed by long sweeps of your mouth, as if it was truly a mission to discover inner parts of you and not just kissing.

You became eager for his hands to move elsewhere, but they still held your head still for his mouth to continue its wicked work. His kisses made your head spin, but the rest of your body felt in heat and neglected. You came to your knees yourself, hands introducing themselves to the sturdy velvet of his jacket, your legs making a move to straddle one of his trousered thighs. He let out a low laugh.

“So eager,” he chastised. “I’m the one who hasn’t shagged in fourteen years, yet I’m the one demonstrating all the patience.”

“I want you!” you defended yourself breathlessly, not even caring if you sounded desperate now. You just needed relief, and to have this wizard covering every inch of you.

“Ah, there it is. The answer I needed to my question,” he said with a wink. “You needed to give me permission, you know.”

“You have it,” you insisted, and as a visual aid to your words, you took the initiative to shrug out of your own sweater. Your breasts swelled over the cups of your lacy, favorite-colored bra. You noticed Sirius became strangely still at the sight, his mouth parting.

“Fucking beautiful,” he managed to mutter, and he cast his own robe aside to free his movement as he reclined you both onto the rug. His fingers gently slid one strap from your shoulder, replacing it with his mouth and soft whiskers. The detailed attention he paid to a spot as random as your shoulder reminded you of his promise to awaken every part of your body. Sirius planned to make every cell literally beg.

His kisses danced across your collarbone in a similar fashion, tended to the next shoulder, then came to center on your pulse point, where he began a gentle suction. You let out a cry at this and took the chance to enjoy his gorgeous, thick curls while he worked his mouth on your upper body’s most sensitive spot.

“I’m going to have wicked marks if you keep doing that,” you teased with a whisper. Sirius’s nose brushed your earlobe as he went for the other side, sucking the sensitive skin beneath like he was starving.

“Good,” he finally broke to whisper back. “And your neck’s not the only spot I plan to mark you.” He added teeth to the mix now, grazing lightly over your throbbing pulse. Would he bite? Would you even care if he did? But he only threatened such before moving lower, working your arms out of the dangling bra straps to reveal your breasts to him. His breath caught in his chest as he appreciated them with his eyes first before cupping them hard, one in each hand. His rough thumbs drove your nipples into peaks, watching each little bump emerge with fascination.

You observed him with a smile, arms leaned back behind you to prop you up for his amusement. You realized of course that it had been over a decade since he’d played with such toys, and though your body was humming for more, you granted him his boy-like fun. Sirius alternated between circling your nipples into painfully hard peaks and kneading your breasts like dough before finally suckling the left into his mouth. The action caused your eyes to roll back in your head. This wizard knew what he was doing. It was more than just taking the soft, pliable tissue into his mouth— he created a firm, merciless suction whose movements echoed between your thighs in violent waves. Your legs parted reflexively, and you grabbed his hand, encouraging it down to feel your burning heat.

“Please touch me,” you begged. “I’m so wet for you.”

Sirius responded to this with a hungry growl, releasing your breast to reveal brand new marks as promised. He gave the other another very rough squeeze before grabbing at your skirt, ripping it downward. He sent it hurling away, narrowly missing the fire. The rip of lace echoed through the air as your knickers followed.

“Am I supposed to walk home with no knickers tomorrow?” you mused above the noisy kisses he planted to the soft skin of your stomach.

“You’re not going home tomorrow,” he replied quickly. “And you’ll be naked all day. And you certainly won’t be walking by the time I’m finished with you.”

“Oh, so you— you like it rough then?” you asked between gasps, shuddering as his fingers traced the tops of your inner thighs, which opened to the hot breaths drifting over your sex.

“Not always,” he answered, grinning up at you from between your parted legs. “But the Black family genetics extend to other endowments as well. In both size and stamina. Even sweeter lovemaking can lend itself to the need for pain potions, love. Do you still consent?”

You licked your lips and lowered your eyes, feeling them burn with sultry want. “I thought you weren’t going to ask anymore?”

“Gryffindor chivalry,” he dismissed with an adorable pursing of his lips. “It’s a curse sometimes.”

“Yes, I consent,” you answered with a grin of your own. “But before you touch me like I asked, I want you out of those clothes. I need to see this endowment of which you speak.”

Sirius sat up and gave your thighs a swift tap before closing them. Your own wetness was dripping onto them at this point, and you could smell sex on the air already.

“You don’t believe me?” he inquired with raised brows.

“Well, you know, Gryffindors are fond of bragging…”

Sirius let out a deep laugh. “So I can assume you’re not a Gryffindor, then, with a comment like that.” He stood and began disrobing, his thumbs drifting over the buttons of the dark green shirt. Each tattoo he revealed made you salivate. He wore a thick, shiny belt buckle now displayed over a prominent bulge in his trousers, and you imagined he was growing quite uncomfortable in there.

“Still not telling you my house,” you replied, shifting your closed legs from one side to the other as you watched your strip show, offering him tantalizing glimpses of your cunt and arse but never separating your thighs for a full view. Sirius never took his eyes off of you, and when his trousers swiftly lowered, you were greeted by the surprise of no underwear— followed by the thick, glorious inches of a very hard, uncut, pureblood cock on display. Your jaw dropped open.

“Already opening up for me?” Sirius commented silkily. “Good girl.”

You nodded, ready to have your mouth fucked speechless if that’s what he wanted. But Sirius seemed to have other plans, pouncing back on you in under a second. He parted your legs almost violently, his face voracious as he plunged his nose into your soaking wetness to inhale before licking furiously.

“Oh, fucking gods!” you moaned, arching into his frenzied movements. He was truly very noisy and beast-like with his mouth, as he’d warned. His tongue alternated between flat, all-encompassing licks across your entire slit, and tiny, strong, targeted flicks around your bud. He approached your sensitive, nerve-filled opening with his tongue in a stiff point, swirling it around to beckon wetness from you in droves.

“I’m fucking drowning you down there,” you moaned, arching your back against the soft rug.

“I told you I like loads of sweet cream,” Sirius responded with a murmur. “Keep it coming, love. Soak my face.”

His tongue rammed your g-spot now, his whole stubbled face buried in your cunt. Your smell filled the hot air and was so sexy you wanted some yourself. Sirius seemed in tune with your needs because his fingers found your hole as his tongue drifted upward to concentrate on your swollen bud again.

“Let me taste your fingers,” you whispered.

“So you do like sugar and cream after all?” he chuckled before obliging with a rather rough shove of his soaked digits into your mouth. His wet stubble scratched your face as his words sought your ear. “Or maybe you’re just a very dirty girl.”

You sucked the delicious sweet-salty combo from Sirius’s fingers, offering kitten licks, strong suction, and previews of all the things he could expect once that glorious cock was in your mouth. His hand found its place within your slit again and began purposeful movements, the back of his palm massaging your clit as his fingers found the g-spot again, kneading the spongy, swollen tissue.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “I need your cock.”

“Oh yeah?” he mused delicately, leveling his heady eyes to yours. “You don’t like what my fingers are doing to you, darling?”

“I love it,” you panted. “But I’m gonna come!”

“Then come, sweetheart. You can still come on my cock. Promise.” Sirius’s hand picked up its pace so any resistance was hopeless. His mouth returned to your neck to secure you in place as the waves took over your body, your whole frame convulsing in one giant shake after another with your beautiful release against his hand. Sirius’s wet mouth closed over yours, his tongue invading as he situated his warm, taut body between your legs. Your bud was still tingling with aftershocks when he touched the head of his cock to it, angling for pressure.

His girthy shaft sought its spot between your glistening lower lips, hips driving the thick tip up against the underside of your clit, and his hard, veiny surface sliding against your still swollen vulva. Sirius wasn’t going to let the pressure ease for even a minute, making sure to build another climax even stronger than the first for his cock to work you through.

“Inside me, please!” you breathed into his mouth.

“I think you can come just like this, darling,” he argued. “Don’t you?” The ridge of his cockhead massaged your clit furiously with his back and forth, and your body gushed messily all over his shaft. Your nails made deep half moons in his tattooed shoulders.

“Y— yes, I can come for you.” You arched up to grind into his impossibly hard length, seeking the rhythm and friction you needed to push over the edge. It required wild gyration and complete abandonment of any self consciousness. Your breasts bounced against his chest, and you clung so tightly to him to ground yourself that your nose was buried in his curls, smelling his animalic musk.

You screamed as you reached peak again, the tremors tinier this time but still exquisite. Exhausted, you fell limply to the rug and took him with you, giving grateful caresses to the smooth skin of his back. Of course you were still aware of his inches throbbing against your thigh, and you knew you had to summon more energy if you were going to give Sirius the satisfaction he needed. The man hadn’t lain with a woman in nearly a decade and a half, and you wanted his cock thoroughly and ecstatically drained. You’d be lying, though, if your twice-satisfied cunt wasn’t worried about such a massive invasion. Your gratitude for the blissful, explosive orgasms aside— you kind of wish he’d honored your request and fucked you when you were swollen, open, and on fire.

Sirius raised himself on his elbows, gazing down at you with a lazy smile.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that, Slytherin girl?”

You blinked and jumped. “What?”

Sirius gnawed at his lip and continued to grin, deep blue eyes sparkling. “You heard me.”

“What makes you say that?” you demanded. “You haven’t even guessed Ravenclaw yet!”

“You let me fuck you way too dumb to be a ‘Claw, and I haven’t even fucked you yet,” he pointed out. “I’ve had my fair share of Ravenclaw witches, and they never quite know when to shut up, Merlin love them.”

“Hey, Slytherins are smart too,” you said with a narrowed brow before you could stop yourself.

Sirius gave a hard smack to your arse before pulling you onto your side, his erection buried in your stomach. You laid breasts to chest, feet and legs entangled, faces flush.

“Tell me,” he said with a slight scowl. “How did they let another Slytherin into the Order? Do they not have standards anymore?”

“Oh, fuck you, Black,” you muttered.

“You’re still doing that, darling, don’t worry. No slithering your way out of that one. You know I’m just trying to rile you up and get you going again so you can handle my cock. Maybe a hate-fuck would be a nice game, now that our alliances are on the table? Would you like that?” His fingers tickled down your ribs and hips before finding the triangle he sought, just his fingertips easing lower to scissor your bud.

“Our ‘alliances’ are the same, you prick,” you laughed, accepting his fingers with an approving arch of your hips.

“Yes, but this new tidbit makes it so much more fun,” he insisted. “You’ve delivered on that new experience I wanted. A fine Christmas present indeed.”

“So this is your first time with a Slytherin?” you asked, doing nothing to hide your pride at that possibility.

“Virgin,” Sirius confirmed with a nod. “As if twelve years in Azkaban didn’t revirginize me enough, this makes it official. Now, show me what I’ve been missing.” He collapsed rather dramatically on the rug, hand behind his head, curls strewn about the intricate paisley pattern. His body was breathtaking— glowing in the firelight, each turn of muscle accentuated by shadow, each tattoo taking turns in the spotlight with the maneuver of flames. And at the center of the beauty was that cock, which hadn’t lost a bit of wind with this latest reveal of information. A generous leak of precum glistened at the tip, and you lowered your mouth to drink it in, your hair tickling his thighs. The first taste left you craving more, and your mouth slid over his huge shaft like a sleeve, locking him in your throat. You heard a grunt of shock escape his mouth.

“Fuck, that was fast,” Sirius groaned.

You eased off of him teasingly, lips forming an up and down suction which you accompanied with twists of your hand. He tasted positively feral yet clean and refined, just as you would have imagined. His tip leaked loads into your mouth, feeling like it would burst at any second if it weren’t for his exceptional control.

“Mmm… you taste good, Black,” you moaned approvingly. “Almost good enough that I’d settle for your load in my mouth if I didn’t want you to fuck my pussy so badly.”

“On your knees, fucking snake cunt,” he ordered with a wink, the fact that it was a game unmistakable. You gave one long, final suck up his shaft and gave a squeeze to his balls, drawing another deep groan from him.

In an instant Sirius’s hands were in your hips, holding you in place while his dripping head found your center. He was right— the banter had you on fire again, and your swollen walls took every inch of him as he pushed inside without hesitation.��

“Ahhhh!” you cried out, unable to help yourself. His hips were a frenzy, abandoning every bit of his previous control now that he was within your tightness. Your breasts bounced in mad circles with the force of his pounding, and sure enough, you could hear the portraits stirring down the hall from the primal noises the two of you made.

“Oh, Sirius, yes,” you breathed, enjoying the repeated raking of his tip, ridge, and underside along your spongy, swollen front wall. He knew just how much to drag back and surge forward, never breaking the rhythm you needed to build to another crest in a matter of minutes. His chest was sweaty when it made contact with your back, and he occasionally dropped open-mouthed kisses to the skin of your shoulder blades with his forward surges. Every so often he broke his rigid support on the rug to squeeze your breasts, kneading them so tightly you knew you’d have bruises for weeks.

“Feel good, love?” he husked, and you knew he knew full well you were beyond good. His ego just wanted to hear it.

“Yes, Sirius. Fuck yes. Please come inside me.”

And it was truly your foremost want in that moment — to fill his hot cum paint your insides and have the satisfaction of giving him what he’d needed for so long. He renewed his lock tight grip on your hips and granted your request, resuming the pounding of your g-spot but faster now, the friction very much for his benefit— with yours as a mere pleasant side effect.

“Fuck, yes, I’m gonna fill you so full,” he promised breathily. “And you better come for me again. You better scream.”

You reached around to toy with your clit and make sure you obeyed his command, but he swatted your hand away and replaced it with his own, his fingers taking on a rhythm to match his snapping hips. All you could do was let out a long stream of moans and buck furiously in return, knowing that chasing your own pleasure would only increase his. His escalated moans confirmed he was approaching release, and you grinned as you picked up the pace even more feverishly, wanting to torture it out of him.

“Fucking GODS!!!” Sirius yelled, and he emptied into you with one hot jet after another, so much it ran right back out over his trembling cock. You kept your pace even after his cock stilled, the added lubricant from his release making easy work of your movements. The thought of being filled with him made your orgasm deliciously hot and dirty as your walls burned with pain and need. Sirius recovered enough to resume the pace of his fingers on your clit, and you spilled over the edge, lurching forward in a series of shakes that wracked your entire body.

You fell forward onto your belly, a mess dripping from your insides, your muscles and bones useless, your skin bruised. It was every way you should feel after a proper fuck. Your brain positively hummed with endorphins, and you breathed in the deliciousness of your combined sex on the air. You could hear Sirius struggling to regain his breath behind you, and you knew he looked sexy as fuck back there. But you were too exhausted to lift yourself up and look.

You weren’t even sure how much time had passed when you felt his arms encircle you, along with the cold rush of air as he lifted you from the warmth of the rug. He wasn’t a huge man, though you’d heard from other Order members that he was considerably stronger now than when he’d escaped the sea prison two years ago. He carried you easily up multiple twists of stairs until you reached a Gryffindor red room on the very top level. Then Sirius nestled you gingerly into a brightly colored duvet.

“Will you be able to sleep with this much red, or should I move you to the green room next door?” he asked dryly, shuffling his naked body next to yours and leaving you little choice in the matter.

“Well, it is Christmastime,” you reminded him sleepily. “The two play rather nicely together right now.”

Sirius responded by nuzzling into your shoulder, his whiskers scratching tiny red prickles into your skin.

#orderofthephoenix #older sirius black #post azkaban sirius #gary oldman #sirius black x you #sirius black one shot #sirius black x y/n #smut #christmas smut #sirius black smut #sirius black imagine #oneshot #grimmauld place

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sunlit6279 · 2 months ago

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what kind of music do you think the arcane characters would listen to? asking because you seem like a chill dude

First off, anon what’s your opinion on marriage? Hey, anon, what’s your ring size? Secondly 😃 and for reals this time, this is a brilliant ask, I’ll happily take up on your request

But just fyi, I’m BIG into popculture. AND gen z (don’t throw tomatoes at me omg) so maybe you can imagine what kind of music I listen to 😭 but I also like to think that my playlist can be quite diverse. But idk we might still have a very different music taste soooo eh. Yeah idk just wanted to put a ⚠️disclaimer⚠️ here I guess so that y’all don’t come and bash me because it’s literally music and I just saw an opportunity to yap so I’m doing this 😭🎀 Simply put, this is for funsiesss hope you get a laugh?

⚠️a few more disclaimers; not proofread, I was a bit too invested in this (and crazy), I took the modern AU approach!⚠️ So anyways all of this to finally say; I’m starting with our favorite hot-headed lesbian,

YOU KNOW she’s screaming from the top of her lungs singing this! Oh and imagine this! rookie Rockstar!Vi covering this song in front of an audience, probably during a school festival or something and the crowd goes crazy. Her beloved girlfriend Caitlin is in the crowd. But do you know who else in the crowd? Right next to Caitlin? Maddie. Violet knows what has been going on during their break, and this is a message directed to her. Maddie was trying hard to seduce Caitlin to get her for herself. But she notices quickly all of this was in vain when her “date” next to her is headbanging and genuinely smiling ear to ear for the first time in her presence. When the song ends, Vi spits cocky: “Get your ass out here. Caitlin’s mine.” Her band roars proudly in response 😎

AND YOU KNOW that Vi switched to she/her pronouns to make Caitlin know that she meant her and only her.

OR, YOU KNOW that Vi and Caitlin went to Paramore’s concert when they performed this song for the last time ever and they were having a blast and making out to this song for sure! ☺️ Vi was fired up and Caitlin loved every second of it.

Viktor

The slowed version because that’s just the typa person Vik is 🙂‍↕️ (pls ignore the image used for the song lmfao) But either way. Hear me out, okay? This was a suggestion from Jayce (so no I’m not at fault here! 🙂‍↔️). And yes, Viktor’s response was just as anyone expected: He raised his brow when he looked back at his lab partner. “You’re kidding?”

Panicky, Jayce flapped his hands to ease Viktor’s annoyance. “I hear this song everywhere and it always makes me think of you…! It’s not what I usually listen to but it gets into your brain before you know it. I genuinely thought you’d like it just a little bit. I mean… won’t you give it a listen?”

“Yeah, wrong guy, Jayce.” Jayce nodded quickly and accepted his fate. “Yeah, okay, I know this was dumb of me.”

Viktor didn’t add a word and continued his research back in his corner. Jayce grimaced, cursing at himself. “I-I’ll leave you to it, then. Text me when you’re home.”

The moment Viktor heard the door shut behind him, he sighed. He tucked his hair strings behind his ear and got back to work.

Much later, he noticed his tension grew bigger. He wasn’t being on task at all. Jayce was right. The short snippet he showed Viktor was already stuck in his head. He tried hard not to succumb to the temptation, trying to prove the air in the room that he wasn’t already a little bit hooked. Whether he’d listen to the full song and like it or not.

He looked at the time and smacked his lips. Jayce might be worried at this exact moment but Viktor felt like he couldn’t leave just now. He “barely made any progress”, he thought. He took a big breath and ran his hands over his hair. “I need a break.” He leaned over the counter to feel more relaxed and grabbed his phone in his pockets to surf the internet. But he had to take a double take when he realized he was in fact on his music app and not on social media. Already tapping the search bar. Viktor furrowed his eyebrows, aggravated by himself.

“Tsk.” He typed the lyrics he understood reluctantly, hoping that was enough for the engine to recognize what he meant. Luckily, it did. He let the song play in the background while he finally did what he intended to do with his phone: Surf the internet. When he was done with his break, he let it play on a loop “unknowingly”. He told himself he was too busy to risk and touch his phone now. That would interrupt his flow, he said.

Needless to say, it didn’t take long until he was swaying his body and snapping his fingers to the beat contently while he continued his research.

(and you KNOWWWWW he’s feeling cvnty the more he listens to the song, Jayce absolutely loves seeing that side of Vik, too!) (Jayce asked him once, “oh so what does it mean?” Vik responded with, “you wouldn’t understand”)

Mel

My woman. Oh how much I love her. Come on, we’ve been knowing she’d listen to lots of Beyoncé. She mostly listens to this when she’s already on a high and it’s physically impossible to hold her back. Usually it’s Elora next to her, sitting on the couch inside the karaoke room, holding her own microphone tight to her chest, absolutely fascinated by the performance she’s witnessing. Elora knows that her best friend can be a bit of a dork sometimes, but it amazes her every time anyways when it happens. But she doesn’t stay starstruck for too long, when Mel pulls her in to join her performance. They both rap Jay-Z’s part together, afterwards exchanging verses, Elora filling on the adlibs, the high notes, while Mel is grinding on her to make them both feel something. Hairs are being swung, physical space is non-existent and laughter filling the room 🥹❤️❤️ ugh I LOVE girls being silly together!!!! (I genuinely love what they have here!!! I love gays girls!!!! I love happy Mel!!!!!)

(oh and imagine Mel in a white y2k outfit that gives BEYONCÉ and her loose hair is POPPING. see how much she’s glowing?)

Ekko

YOU KNOWWWWW Ekko’s a huge fan of Kendrick since FOREVER (and is gobbling up his new album yupyup 🙂‍↕️) and went absolutely feral this summer when this song dropped and cheered when he knew he was on the winner’s side. Ekko is a complete music nerd and will tell you every reference and metaphor of this song alone. Powder asked him ONCE (1) about the rap battle between Kenny and Drake and got info dumped within 0.000000001s :))) She loved it. Hearing him sing makes her want to move her body with him. She knows Ekko isn’t really the type to sing in front of people so when he gets all hyped up and shows this side of him she feels special.

There’s a chance they did a TikTok together too… 🌝 but it might be in the drafts oops

(by now, he fully memorized the whole song 🙂🙂)

Claggor

Yup. Him. The man. I know it’s random but I can’t get him out of my head,, So this is more like a self-indulgent bonus. You’re welcome! xx

BUT IMAGINE! He was sent to make the dishes and he was soooooo not feeling it at first until he bit through it and listened to music to make him feel a bit more motivated. When this started to play he was LOCKED. IN. He did the whole “imagining he’s in an edit” kinda thing, jumping in place, flexing his muscle at literally no one at all, singing some verses aloud because he was so into it. Which he rarely does. Claggor is not a singer. Maybe a shower singer but everyone at home quickly shrugs it off, because honestly, who hasn’t done it before? But imagine his surprise when he sensed someone next to him, slowly handing him a plate.

“Uh—”

Vander pulled a face. “Wanna talk about it?”

Claggor simply shook his head awkwardly.

Ugh 😩 you guys I love him so much??? I hate men but I would let him in my bed (/hj)

no but in all seriousness, I can’t really tell why I chose this song but it just felt right? I imagine Claggor to be this cool, chill guy and genuinely funny to be around

and this song (among many others ofc) just oozes that vibe

#I promise I’m not procrastinating #kind of 😭#someone someone is just a girl and needs a break from writing ok (me)#even tho this was a two hour worth of work lmfao um oops #anyways!#arcane #silly headcanons #arcane headcanon #arcane league of legends #vi arcane #mel arcane #mel merdada #viktor arcane #ekko arcane #arcane claggor #I’m definitely doing more characters it’s just that I’m tired for now #going to bed #wait for me in the meantime 🙏🏾

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fruchtfliege · 3 months ago

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hii, puppymaxxx! for the make me write thing: can i ask for all of them?

...ask from this post...

🐺 - stuck as a wolf!theo au

“It's exactly as I thought!” Stiles continues. “Theo's the one making you do this and-”

“No!” How many times does Liam need to say this?! “It's just that he's been teaching me how to lie and-”

“He what?” Scott finally intervenes, his face more serious than ever.

Theo and the rest of the puppy pack put a hand over their faces in shared embarrassment.

“Oh,” Liam whispers, now hearing how it might sound. He turns for support but even Theo is giving him an unimpressed look. Liam winces. Right, first rule of lying: always deny the fact that you're lying.

He keeps forgetting about that one!

🧪 - re-animator au

Liam is barely more than a hollow body as he steps into his apartment. He throws his coat on the floor. Same for his keys. He goes downstairs. Theo is working. Of course he is. Liam gets back to the ground floor and makes some sandwiches. He cuts some vegetables since he knows Theo doesn’t eat enough. Then, he walks back downstairs and barely touches the portion he made for himself. He’s thinking. Theo doesn’t seem to notice or maybe he simply doesn’t comment on Liam sitting beside him and looking at the void.

Since the room is so silent, despite the metal equipment and the squish of flesh tearing, they both hear it when the phone rings. Liam jumps slightly.

“You’re not gonna get that?” Theo asks after a few rings.

Liam sighs in despair. “What would I say?”

“Most people start with ‘hello’.”

Liam is so shocked by Theo trying to make a joke that he ends up grinning. The faint smile drops two seconds later. Liam finally takes one half of a sandwich and continues watching Theo at work as the phone keeps ringing upstairs.

💋 - petopher mean girls!au

“You kissed him?!” Melissa says, using her Disappointed Mom Tone.

“What?” Chris turns from the mirror where he's been trying to look at the hickey on his neck. “Obviously!” he tells her when he sees Melissa squinting at him. “I'm supposed to get back with him and pretend to be his boyfriend again, how was I supposed to do that without kissing him?”

“I thought we said you'd play hard to get!” she adds, still shaking her head and sighing at the bruise on his neck.

Chris frowns, offended. “Which is what I did!”

Finstock snorts at his statement but then looks away when Chris turns his frustrated gaze on him.

“You weren't even there!” Chris exclaims, now fully defensive.

“I was!” Finstock looks at Mel for support but she's just as equally puzzled. “I was the guy with the Scooby-Doo mask by the front door.”

“That was you!?” Melissa asks in disbelief.

Finstock frowns at both of them, his mood slowly taking a turn for the worse. “…you guys asked me to keep an eye on Deucalion and Corinne!”

Mel and Chris look at each other as they suddenly remember giving him this “task”.

“Which you did so beautifully,” Melissa eagerly praises him.

“Very subtle work,” Chris half-lies to him as well but it only seems to make Finstock sadder.

Looking at his sweatpants, Finstock nods but it’s clear he doesn’t believe them. Chris decides that changing the subject might be better.

“Do you really think I folded too easily?” he asks Melissa since she always seems to know how Peter thinks. “Do you think he will be suspicious?”

🫡 - the caretaker

They head back to Theo’s because Liam doesn’t want to leave his side. He knows that Theo’s head still hurts even if he doesn’t want to admit it. So Liam doesn’t let go of him. And yes, it might have something to do with the fact that, every time he can’t see him, it feels like Theo is being taken away again and Liam suddenly can’t breathe. But who's to say?

THE “GEYER-DUNBAR FAMILY” GROUP CHAT

Liam

theo’s grandpa died can i sleep at his place tonight? :(

David

Didn’t know Theo had three granddads

Fuck! He knew he should've kept count.

Think fast.

Think fast!

Liam

well gay people exist so

Jenna

Indeed they do.

Liam

omg can i sleep there or no????

Jenna

You know my rule about school nights…

Liam

:(((((( but he’s really not feeling well!!!!

It’s a lie, Theo told him about a billion times that he was fine. Not that Liam believes him anyway.

Jenna

I’ll make an exception just this one time.

For his third grandpa.

Liam

thank you!!!!

David

Tell Theo we’re sorry for his loss. Three grandpas in one year. Must be tough.

Jenna

Indeed.

He groans and closes his phone.

“What is it?” Theo asks him as he opens the apartment door.

“David and my mom think they’re being funny. I call dibs on the first shower.”

🤍 - First chimera!liam au

“Library. 7 pm,” Hayden tells him seriously as she leaves to go to class.

Theo nods and, before he can decide to stay or go with her, Stiles collides into him like a meteor.

“Dude! You won't believe what I found when I searched for his name in the police database! There's so much…” Theo gives him a wide, intense glare as he tries to subtly point the guy next to them but Stiles obviously doesn't notice. “I know, I know, I wasn't supposed to break into my dad's laptop anymore but you'll see that it was worth it ‘cause Liam is definitely-”

“Right here? Yes, I know. His locker is next to Hayden's,” Theo says through gritted teeth, still mentally begging Stiles to shut up.

“He's…?” Stiles' voice trails off and his eyes grow impossibly wide. Liam closes his locker and leans against it, staying right here as he grins at Stiles fumbling on his words in an obvious attempt to make up a lie. “Right here! Great! I was looking for you. For your address. Uh… it's a lacrosse thing. Coach wants Scott to have everyone's contact so…”

Liam glances at Theo as if asking him “is this the lie you're both going for?” and Theo quickly looks away, embarrassed.

“You could've just asked, I would've given you my number," Liam says with a smile.

“Right.” Stiles chuckles nervously.

But Liam isn't looking at Stiles, he's looking at Theo.

#puppymaxxx!!! 😭❤️❤️🥰#sorry this is so longgggggg i blame trying to format texting on tumblr #teen wolf #thiam #liam dunbar #theo raeken #petopher #peter hale #chris argent #christopher argent #mean girls au #re-animator au #the caretaker #stuck as a wolf!theo au #first chimera!liam au #my stuff

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sohn-der-felder · 7 months ago

Text

✧ »➣ Open Starter

(it's my first ever one please have mercy)

Rain, he couldn't remember the last time he felt it. It pricked against his face in a weird way he couldn't understand - waking slowly as he slowly gained feeling once more.

Despite realizing he was face down in concrete the first feelings that came back to him were unkind and cruel - it was a horrible pain in every bone of his body. A sharp ringing ripped through his ears as everything became too much on his senses. The shock of it all was a struggle within itself but it felt like getting up was an even harder task to do.

His body felt weak and for the first time in awhile he felt utterly defeated and vulnerable. Laying on the concrete like an utter fool without a way to defend himself - whatever higher being there could've been felt dead to him now.

Seconds to Minutes to Hours. Time continued on despite his troubles and it pissed him off to no end for some reason. Though with that time he finally gained the strength to push against the concrete and sit up in a kneeling position.

"Dammit Deimos what have you gotten yourself into now..." The man was referring to himself - Deimos. A previous agent of the A.A.H.W before he sought out 'greener pastures' regarding work some may say. A rebellious man, a heavy smoker, an annoyance. He's referred to as many things but in this moment of time the only thing you could call him would be completely lost.

He'd cough a bit, feeling in his mouth before spitting out a loose tooth. "Well shit... that ain't gonna grow back." He grumbled to himself, clenching the small bone in an angry fist before simply shoving it into his pant pocket. "Whatever, maybe Doc can glue it back in or some..thing?" Deimos cut himself off as he finally lifted his head to finally see where he landed himself.

Luckily it seemed like the area he was in was a secluded parking lot, but nothing made sense as he would continue to rapidly glance around; finding trees, a cloudy sky that wasn't the shade of red he grew accustom to... It was as if everything was back to normal before all hell broke loose.

"What the.. What the hell?!" He tried to get up, whether to examine things further or try to run from his current reality - he'd fail. Knees buckling under him with a speed he didn't know was possible and groaning at the impact; knees feeling like they were about to crack under the abrupt pressure of his body.

"Fuck! That hurt..." Things were closing in on his psyche and the world felt like a soup of colors and barely understandable shapes. "Where the hell am I.. 'cause this is definitely not Nevada..."Deimos would speak to himself.

Though he maybe realized far too late that he wasn't alone, just another 'fun' surprise the vast universe decided to throw at him. Reaching for the gun in his utility belt he'd draw the weapon towards the sound of footsteps. "Who's there?!" He'd yell out - vision ever blurry but by God was he ready to fight to survive.

#➥ open starter #𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙰𝚛𝚎. | Deimos #.crossover tbt #deimos #crossover #crossover rp #multimuse rp #madness combat #madcom rp #madcom #madness combat rp #rp blog #roleplay blog

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sugarcloudsky · 2 years ago

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Hello it's my first time requesting so i hope i can explain it clear cause i suck at explaining :')) May i please request for a Espresso x shy, cute reader please?

Like maybe the reader is a secret admirer and always send him cute letters and sometimes flowers too :3 and one day he caught them leaving the letters/flowers for him (does that makes sense??)

I hope you're not mind of course :>>

「Spoonful of Sugar」

character: espresso cookie

wc: 2.4k

cws: possibly ooc espresso, but otherwise none

ok this took me so long to make sorry??? i kept restarting because i couldn’t get it right. i hope you like the final product ^_^!! i also focused more on espresso than reader here, since reader doesn’t show up until the very end. hope thats okay! <3

Right now, Espresso Cookie was experiencing something he was not expecting to happen to him today. Or ever, actually.

Just like every other day, he was preparing all his equipment and research data for another day of analyzing the Soul Jam at the Institute of Thaumaturgy. Another day of learning how the Soul Jam worked. Another day of studying ways to use the ancient’s Soul Jam to protect all cookies from Dark Enchantress Cookie and her forces. It was a grueling and difficult task, but one he was more than certainly up for. As long as he continues to pull all nighters, only running on at least seven cups of coffee, then he’s the most reliable worker you could ask for. This is Espresso Cookie we’re talking about, and with enough effort put in, his research will always lead to some kind of success.

Except this wasn’t exactly like every day. Unless you could count the unusually decorated envelope carefully left through the mail slot of his personal laboratory.

He had found the aforementioned mail on the floor in front of his door as he was preparing to leave. Normally, he would have most likely ended up tossing any kind of mail he received straight in the trash, but this one caught his eye. The envelope was a normal white, but after readjusting his glasses, he noticed it was... covered in sparkly stickers. At first he thought that it was sent to the wrong person, but his theory was immediately disproven when he saw his name was written in small cursive letters on the front. That is what stopped him from immediately discarding the letter.

Picking the letter up, he was about to throw it onto his desk to open later, simply going back to preparing for his daily work, but then he hesitates. The letter… it doesn’t look important, but it has still completely piqued his interest. It’s not every day that he sees a letter addressed to him, Espresso Cookie, all sparkly and decorated with cute little stickers.

He tries to tell himself that he’ll just open it whenever he gets back to his lab, however long that takes. Hours? Days? Who knows. The Soul Jam’s research requires his expertise the most. Missing even a single day of research could have dire consequences. What if the Soul Jam gets stolen? What if Dark Enchantress Cookie strikes suddenly? Anything could happen.

He sighs. It’ll only be a minute.

Espresso quietly sits down at his desk, pulling the envelope towards himself. He observes it for a moment, the silky texture of the envelope brushing against his fingers. The cute and glittery pink stickers catch his eye, as they all seem carefully and intricately placed along the white surface. But his name, which was written in slightly messy cursive, was the thing that stuck out to him the most. It seemed to be hastily written in a small red marker. Espresso Cookie let out a chuckle before he realized it.

Carefully, he tears it open. Inside he finds a single folded piece of paper gently tucked inside. The paper is creased in a very neat manner, he’s almost impressed at how perfectly square it is. He pulls the paper out and unfolds it, revealing what looks to be a letter of some sorts. He suspected such a thing, but reading the said letter was an entire different story.

It seemed to be a poem of some sort, and not just any poem, it seemed to be a love poem. A very cheesy and romantic poem, to be exact. If it was read by any person other than Espresso, they would for sure feel butterflies fluttering in their stomach and their face heating up significantly. The flowery words and the passionate language was enough to make almost any cookie’s heart throb.

At first, his only reaction was to stare blankly at the paper in front of him. He almost thought that he had misread all of the words written there. He immediately adjusted his glasses and squinted his eyes, only to realize that no, he did not in fact misread everything. This was an actual love confession, or poem. But there was one small issue:

The letter had not been signed.

Espresso Cookie practically scoffed when he noticed this. How could someone practically send their entire heart to this man, and yet not even end up signing it? He thought it was ridiculous. He promptly took a sip of the bitter coffee he loved before standing up, preparing to leave. After shoving all his belongings into a briefcase, he reaches for his doorknob to leave, but he hesitates for a brief moment. He turns around. Glancing at the letter he left on his desk, he ponders. Eventually, he sighs, pushing up his glasses before walking out the door and shutting it behind him.

He decides he won’t throw it out just yet. He needs to find out who sent it to him, after all. Such a bold letter sent to him obviously led him to wanting to know who sent it. Maybe it was someone he knew? Or maybe it was someone he never met before? Maybe when he does figure out who sent it, he could get to know them better…? Maybe it’s someone Espresso could really connect with…

Espresso shakes his head at the last thought. He didn’t have time for such affairs. He would merely do what he could to find out who wrote and sent him this letter, he would interrogate them, and that would be that. There was no need to ‘get to know them’. All of this was a waste of Espresso’s time. He didn’t need anyone sending him any kind of love letters.

Yet he could not deny the very light shade of red dusting his cheeks.

He clears his throat to recompose himself as the bright sun of the Créme Republic blinds him for a few seconds. Using his hand to shield himself, he continues to walk. He mutters and mumbles to himself, lost in thought about the small bump in the road he encountered this morning. Everything would be fine, he thought whilst shaking his head. This would not interrupt his work in the slightest. This should not interrupt his work. Nothing will change.

———

‘Everything will be fine. Nothing will change.’ came out to be somewhat of a lie.

Because Espresso Cookie had ended up receiving another letter the next week.

And the next.

…And the next.

He even received a small bouquet of flowers with one of the letters at one point, which he so kindly had placed in a small vase on his desk (he would glare at anyone who asked about it before immediately changing the subject).

So, Espresso Cookie did not really know what to do.

Each envelope he received was decorated the same as the last, with glittery stickers meticulously placed on perfectly and his name written on the front with the same handwriting each time. But every note he read was vastly different each time. They were all similar in the sense that they all were blatantly obvious love confessions. Yet, they all had their own way of making even the always stoic and tired Espresso Cookie fluster slightly, although he would never admit that to anyone.

It wasn’t until he felt himself smile at one of the letters he received that he realized he needed to figure out who was sending these letters, and fast. He needed to find out who was messing with his head like this. Who was making him feel such things. He hated it. He wanted to find out so he can finally get this whole ordeal done with. He wanted to find them, so he could tell them to stop bothering him and to stop making him feel this way with their stupidly butterfly-inducing poems. He hated it!

So, he had devised a plan. It was a simple one, really, which was something that was surprising coming from Espresso Cookie. He was relieved he wouldn’t need to ask anyone for help, especially Madeleine Cookie, because Espresso knew that Madeleine would never let him live this situation down.

It was simple: the person leaving the notes seemed to have always left them whenever Espresso was away, or when he was too busy to notice the note quietly being slipped into his mail slot. So, his plan of attack was to simply find out the time they usually come, and catch the person off guard. Catch them in the act, so he could finally find out who the mysterious admirer was. So he could finally have a word with them.

He crosses his arms, thinking about what he would say. He really wanted to scold them, to tell them to get lost, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. Not when the words on the paper written just for him were so loving and affectionate. Every note would only say kind and wonderful things about Espresso Cookie, admiring him, praising him, and more. The praises ranged from his involvement with the research of the Soul Jam, to himself. The parts that complimented his appearance is what flustered him the most, which irritated him.

So he waits. It had been quite a bit since the previous letter was sent, so he knew it would be coming soon. Espresso opted to sit down by his door, waiting patiently for the familiar little envelope to slide through the slot in his door. Since he had calculated the exact time when he expected the letter to flutter through the mail slot, he determined that it should be coming through just about… now.

…

But nothing came. That’s… strange.

He waited another few minutes.

Still nothing…

He expected to hear his mail slot clink as something slipped through it. He expected to open the door and be faced with the perpetrator. But the only thing he was faced with was silence.

This led Espresso Cookie to think. Maybe the person leaving these gifts for him finally gave up? Maybe they got tired of never getting anything back from him? A lot of ‘maybe’ questions began to pop up in his mind. At first they were simply thoughts of them finally giving up, but then it slowly turned into darker thoughts. Darker ones like ‘what if something happened to them?’ or ‘what if they got sick and are unable to leave their house?’

…What if they were attacked somehow…?

Espresso huffed at the thought, clearing his throat and readjusting his glasses. He shakes his head, reprimanding himself for worrying so much over someone he doesn't even know the face of. Yet he still couldn't stop himself from feeling even the slightest bit guilty. He just wanted to convince himself that whatever happened to you wasn’t his problem. The chances of someone being attacked and injured were very slim, the Crème Republic was far too littered with guards and police cookies to let an innocent cookie get hurt. So, no, he did not care that you weren’t showing up on time today. Not at all, nope. Not in the slightest—

The approaching footsteps cut off his thoughts.

Ah- someone’s coming… is it his landlord that he ignored all the time? Was it Madeleine coming just to annoy him? Or was it… was it the cookie he was waiting to see?

Has the cookie he had been waiting for finally arrived? If he opened the door right now, would he be met with the mysterious sender from the past few weeks? Or would he be disappointed to see someone he would rather not deal with at the moment? His plan was finally in full motion, but now he began to hesitate. Espresso didn’t know whether or not he should actually open the door and face whoever was there. As the light footsteps slowly grew closer, the man knew that he needed to make a decision, quickly.

Hand seizing the doorknob, he waits a few more moments until he hears the footsteps stop in front of his door. For a moment, there's only silence on the other side.

The moment he hears the cover of his mail slot move slightly is when he swings open his door at the speed of light. In front of him stood… you. You, a simple cookie, who was slightly shorter than him, and that was further amplified as you cowered and yelped in a startled manner.

Espresso recognizes you, he has seen you before. He’s usually noticed you on his way to the Institute during most mornings, as you’re usually seated by a fountain reading a book or scribbling on a piece of paper. It isn’t like he actually knew who you were or even spoke to you, but he knew you existed. You never bothered him or caused him trouble, so he never thought to approach you.

Standing in front of him now, with your face flushed red and your eyes wide, he realizes now that this is the closest he’s ever been to you. He takes a moment to examine you further. The clothes you’re wearing, the worried expression framed in your brows, your quivering lips, and your stiff legs. Your hands are quaking and you’re stammering apologies to him quietly.

Huh. He almost didn’t believe you were the one sending him all of those beautiful letters and lovely poems. If it weren’t for the fact that you were obviously clutching one of those said letters tightly in your hands, then he would have sighed and closed the door on your face.

But now… he knows who the perpetrator was.

…What should he do now?

“So it was you.” Espresso Cookie says bluntly. He watches as you flinch at the question.

“Ah— um, yes…”

Espresso waits for you to continue speaking, but you do not say anything else. You simply continue to hide your face from him as he stares at you blankly. Sighing, he readjusts his glasses once more.

“Shall we have a chat?”

“W— What?” Your face peeks out from behind your hands, and he can barely make out your flushed face once more.

Espresso Cookie looks at his watch, the hands ticking monotonously. He should have left the laboratory several minutes ago. Though instead of leaving you there stranded to continue his work, he decides to stay and chat with you for a bit.

He has a lot to talk about with you, after all.

#cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #fanfiction #cookie run x you #cookie run #x reader #espresso cookie #espresso cookie x reader

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heartbreakprincewille · 2 years ago

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Okay, I was just thinking about a legal justice plotline in S3(meaning Wilhelm and Simon essentially having legal proceedings against August) and I don't think that we will get this in S3 at all but it's really really interesting to think about nevertheless.

Because usually in queer stories, coming out solves all the problems like a magical, fix-it-all solution and the mains live happily ever after. But YR heavily leans on realism and even if the S2 ending is an ambiguous but fitting ending for a queer show (sort of a coming out montage), it does not work for this show.

It has been repeatedly said by the cast and crew that Wilhelm's problem is not being queer, it's being a prince. The systemic traditions weighing on a person who can't even grieve his own brother without being shoved into empty traditions and a PR machiavelli. A person who cannot even fall in love with another person without a thousand worries crossing his mind in every move. A person who tried to confide in his own cousin but his privacy got shattered in front of the whole world instead. It's not that Wilhelm being queer itself is a problem. Instead the domino effect it would bring to people around him is the problem. And that's why it was such a task for Wilhelm to get his mother on board for the idea of a relationship with Simon- because everyone (and it includes Kristina) will try to enforce the heteronormative narrative again and again on him, pretending like his feelings don't matter because in the end, it's easier for them. It's easier for them to live in their centuries-old metaphorical gilded cages and try to enforce the traditions on the royal family itself because the monarchists and the rich (old AND new) thrive under the "stability" the monarchy provides to their social stature and their bulging pockets. Even August's motivations towards the crown are two-fold: he's not only in a constant want of power, but he is also a firm believer in continuing traditions and he directly benefits from the monarchy running as it is. And having the power in his hands will let him ensure that his own estates and rich-people solidarity is never threatened again.

But Wilhelm emerges as an anomaly in the system- he will not tie himself down to hollow traditions. And it threatens everyone's stability, which leads to the denial- and the swirling wave of change calms down. But then Wilhelm starts refusing all the traditions and eventually retracts the denial- and the wave hits all of them like a storm.

And Wilhelm trying to seek justice through the legal machinery is not only very poetic (a prince trying to seek fairness in a democratic system because the monarchy inevitably fails him), but it will also rock the boats of so many people. They will finally get to understand that rich and powerful people also have consequences for their actions and their safety nets can blow away no matter how much money they throw away to keep themselves afloat.

I can understand one argument that August is also young and maybe legal consequences will be a bit extreme for him. But, like, any other common person will be blown apart by the system despite being innocent, why is he any exception? If human lives have equal value, why their actions should be treated differently? I would still like August to have a chance at a realization of the severity of his actions rather than facing legal consequences, but I also do want him to face the legal mechanism or atleast face the fear of having legal consequences for his actions. These two things can co-exist. Simon can easily be torn apart because of the whole dealing thing, and no one would come and save his ass for it. It's the biasness for me.

Overthrowing the monarchy or letting August have a redemption arc is just not possible in a single 6-episode season. It will simply be unnatural to the progression of the story. However, atleast in my head, Wilhelm and Simon seeking justice through a legal system can bring the consequences into action without the added labour of scrapping away a deeply rooted institution or changing the way a person's psyche works.

#young royals #prince wilhelm #simon eriksson #august of årnäs #i don't even know if it's logistically possible and i am not putting it out as a prediction or something at all #it was just swirling in my head and you should just let your mind wander sometimes methinks #they both are minors and Wilhelm being a prince is also a big problem with this #but August's stepdad being a lawyer #Sweden's one of the best lawyers apparently #and Sara filing a police report at the end of s2 #the way Wilhelm raking back the denial will lead to a public reaction and can lead to people discussing about the perpetrator #i just can't stop thinking about a legal storyline ngl #but again this is also very difficult to fit in a 6-episode season tho so yeah

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depressedhatakekakashi · 1 year ago

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Interrupting Nap Time

Words: 1,841

Note: for National Napping day, but also for @jventureart who needs some cute Team Gai bonding moments <3

Four PM.

A perfect time to take a break from the grueling task of training until every single bone in his body ached and have a nap.

That was what Kakashi told himself when he realized he’d spent most of the day training, and he had every intention of having that nap. The only problem was no matter what he looked, he couldn’t find the one person he needed to ensure he had the perfect nap.

He wasn’t at the dango shop enjoying a nice treat, or at the BBQ place having an early dinner with his old teammates. In fact, when Kakashi saw Genma, Ebisu and Choza-Sensei sitting in their usual spot with an empty sit right beside Genma, he knew something was up.

Gai would never miss out on a free meal.

“Training field C!” Genma had called out to him when he noticed him standing at the doorway, a cheerful wave from Choza-sensei following his words. “He said he was meeting with his students for some extra training. Probably lost track of time.”

Turning on his heel, Kakashi waved back at them and headed straight back out the door.

Training field C was the field closest to Konoha’s gates and the best location for anyone who didn’t want to call attention to themselves. A spot that he had no doubt Gai choice because of Tenten and Neji.

Where Gai and Lee had no issue attracting a crowd to watch their over the top training regimes, Tenten and Neji often preferred a bit more privacy. That was something Kakashi noticed the first time he interrupted one of the team’s training sessions. Both of the genin’s had immediately ceased with their training, turning their full attention to him and had refused to continue their training until he left.

It was also an easy training field to get to. A twenty minute walk from the BBQ place for any regular villager and a two minute sprint over the village rooftops for Kakashi. Even with aching bones and a sense of fatigue hovering over him Kakashi found himself touching down in the centre of the field in no time at all.

There was only one problem.

“So much for your help.” he sighed as he looked around at an empty field. The wooden polls that Gai loved to use to hone his and his students balance were empty, and there was no one throwing kunai or any other sort of weapon at the dummies beside them.

He was just about to give up when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. A little glimmer of green tucked away amongst the tree’s, standing out among all the leaves because of its shade.

A vibrant, eye sore of green that could only belong to one thing.

“Ah,” turning toward the object he looked a bit closer. There, just past the treeline between two giant trees, Maito Gai sat with three very tired looking students piled on top of him. Lee was laying across the ground with his head on Gai’s left leg. Tenten sat in front of the tree on Gai’s right, her head propped up on Gai’s shoulder while Neji took the left side mirroring her position. All of them, as far as Kakashi could see, were asleep.

Too bad I came here instead of Sukea. He could have taken a picture of this for Gai.

Shaking that thought away, he rocked back on his heels. There were two paths he could take going forward. The first was to head straight for Gai and claim his own spot, most likely on the leg Lee wasn’t currently using as a pillow, and risk being seen by all three of Gai’s precious students if they woke up before him. The other, far more enticing, option was to simply head to his apartment and accept an empty bed and cold pillow as his afternoon napping spot.

“Home,” he decided, turning on his heel and preparing to head off. Before he could move, though, he found himself overwhelmed with a strange feeling. The feeling of eyes burrowing into his back.

Someone was watching him, and he didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“When did you wake up?” he sighed, turning back to face the offender and frowning when he was greeted with piercing white eyes. He had recognized the feeling of being watched and assumed it was Gai who’d noticed his presence and woken up.

Instead, it was Neji who stared back at him.

“I’ll just-“

“Lay down,” Neji’s eyes closed once more, expressing the trust he had for not just his teammates, but Kakashi as well.

Kakashi simply stood there staring at the kid, his mouth hanging open in surprised. Out of all three of Gai’s students, Neji was the last one he ever thought would be inviting him to join on team nap time.

The kid was just about as closed off as Kakashi was when he was a teenager, and for good reason. The treatment he received within his own clan was enough to cause anyone to close their heart to anyone they interacted with. Yet, here Neji was opening himself up.

Allowing himself a moment of vulnerability not just with his team, which was already an impressive feat for a kid who’d only been training with them for four months, but with Kakashi as well.

“Huh,” closing his mouth, Kakashi watched the four resting shinobi for a moment. Lee, Tenten and Gai made no movements indicating that they were awake, but every few seconds Neji would crack his left eye open and stare at Kakashi for around three seconds before closing it once again. After the third time opening his eye, the Hyuga sighed, lifted his left hand, and pointed to Gai’s right leg.

The only free spot for a fourth person to lay their head down.

“Lay down,” Neji repeated, this time with a bit more force in his voice. “Before Sensei realizes you’re here and –“

Kakashi’s eye widened in a moment of sheer panic, and without thinking he raised both of his hands and quickly waved them in a downward motion. “Shhh,” his eyes darted toward Gai, watching his expression for any signs that he might have heard Neji.

There was a moment of panic when Gai’s eyebrows furrowed, but it quickly subsided when he settled back into a peaceful expression.

Dropping his hands, he sighed. “Don’t say things like that. He has a sixth sense for… you know.”

Rivalry.

No matter how tired Gai was he would wake up at the mere mention of a competition, challenge, spar, or anything that was in any way related to their rivalry. There was even a risk in someone just saying Kakashi’s name, which Neji must have understood since he had skipped greeting him by name all together when he was usually more polite with his interactions.

“Well?” Neji glanced toward the open knee once more, clearly hinting at what Kakashi to do to avoid the exact scenario he’d just barely preventing Neji from initiating.

There was no escape.

Neji had seen him, meaning if he didn’t give in and lay down with the rest of them Gai would be hearing about it and then he’d be receiving a lecture about the importance of bonding and sleep. Two things that he didn’t think needed to be mixed together, but which he had no doubt his friend would find a way to connect.

His shoulder dropped. “Fine,” he sighed, rolling his head back and staring up at the sky for a moment.

What did I do to deserve this?

Dragging his eyes away from the bright blue sky overhead, he focused on Gai and his students once more. Even with Neji wide awake watching him, the view hadn’t lost any of its cuteness. Perhaps it was because there was just an indestructible adorableness to seeing Gai cuddled up with his students, or the peaceful expressions on their faces.

Whatever it was, Kakashi couldn’t help but want a piece of it.

A moment of bliss where he could shut his eyes to the world and know that he was safe because he was with Gai.

Extracting his hands from his pockets he took the first step toward the sleeping pile of shinobi, and then another step, and another, until he found himself hovering over them. From his spot Neji continued to watch him, those glassy white eyes burrowing into his soul in a way only Gai and Rin had ever managed to do before.

“You really are…”

“Bothersome?” Neji huffed as he relaxed back into Gai’s shoulder and finally closed his eyes once again.

Shaking his head Kakashi lowered himself into a squat right in front of Tenten. The urge to poke her in the side of the head, but he refrained. Waking her up would only cause him more troubles and he already had one sleepy student of Gai’s getting on his case.

He didn’t need two.

Taking one last look at the team, he couldn’t help but smile. During his short conversation with Neji, Tenten had turned her face into Gai’s shoulder so that half of her face was now covered and Lee had turned onto his back and interlocked his fingers on top of his chest in a position that looked far too similar to a dead person who was about to be buried.

Shoving that thought away, Kakashi allowed himself to collapse into the ground in just the right way so his head landed against Gai’s leg with a gentle thud. As soon as he had done that, Gai’s right hand came up and settled straight into his hair. His index finger even rubbed against Kakashi’s scalp a little, causing Kakashi’s left leg to kick out against the ground just slightly.

Not enough to wake anyone, but enough for Neji to open his eyes once again.

“Did you just-“

“Shut up.” Kakashi grumbled, adjusting himself so that he was a little more comfortable and settling into his new position. He no longer had a clear line of sight to Neji from his new position, but he didn’t need to see the teenager to know that he was smiling.

If it were him who’d just seen an Elite Jonin of Konoha kick his leg like a happy puppy getting his skitches, he would also be smiling as he tucked away that mental image into his memory banks.

That was a problem for later Kakashi to deal with. Right now, the only thing on his mind was the comforting weight of Gai’s hand in his hair and the sound of birds chirping in the air and leaves rustling in the wind.

Before long Kakashi could feel that familiar wave of exhaustion washing over him, pulling him toward sleep. A feeling that he welcomed with open arms even though he knew he was never going to hear the end it from Gai’s adorable little students after Neji filled the other two in on what has just transpired.

#Kakagai #Team Gai #Hyuga Neji #Hatake Kakashi #Team Gai bonding #This was not at all Betaed or even spell checked #because my spell check apps are being useless

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qqueenofhades · 2 years ago

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Speaking of Jack Smith and the indictments, follow up questions if you feel like answering! What do you think the chances of a conviction before the 2024 elections are? And (more worryingly to me), how much will convictions matter given they don't actually stop Trump from running or potentially being elected?

I've been following the investigations pretty closely, until I figured out last night that there are no laws against running for president from prison, and nothing stopping an imprisoned president from pardoning themselves. @_@ And while no one running for president from prison has ever gotten much of the vote, I have a terrible feeling that's one of those terrible firsts Orange-kun could pull off.

The thing with all this is that it is, for America, completely unprecedented political and legal territory. As such, while we can speculate and infer from what has happened thus far and what would normally be on schedule to happen next, we simply can't be sure. As I have said and as we all need to prepare ourselves for, Trump WILL be the GOP nominee at the time of the 2024 election, and if you thought he and his deranged cultists were dangerous to American democracy before, that's nothing compared to what they would be now. Which means we have the obvious task of all working as hard as we fucking can to get Joe Biden re-elected and given back full Democratic control of Congress. That is and remains Job Number One.

Next, Trump's only play is to delay, delay, delay as long as possible, in hopes of miraculously winning and canceling all the charges against himself like a proper banana-republic Autocrat-for-Life. That is obviously a terrifying idea, so see above: need to make sure it doesn't happen. The good news is that Biden beat Trump last time and if we do our part, he can do it again. Democrats are over-performing their 2020 margins by an average of 7+ points in the last 20 special or off-cycle elections, and while this isn't a sign to think we've got it in the bag and can just relax, it also means that the electoral trends are overall much better for Team Blue than they are for the Group Of Pfascists over there, especially since state-level Republican parties are basically bankrupt after throwing away so much money on pointless Big Lie challenges. Trump and his entire vindictive fascist apparatus is, again, terrifying. But it is not genuinely popular or in the actual majority, and we need to approach it like something that can and must be defeated, and not some unstoppable demonic force.

As such, we also need to recognize that even if Trump does go on trial and get convicted on any number of things before November 2024, which is still something of a long shot just because Merrick Garland dragged his feet on this for so long, he will try every bullshit delay tactic and appeal that he possibly can, in hopes of elevating it to a Trump-appointed judge and/or SCOTUS (he will try AS HARD AS POSSIBLE to get it to SCOTUS, since like every good mob boss, he thinks he owns them and they're obliged to bail him out). We don't know the timeline on that or what the effects will be, but as I noted last night, the benchmark for "progress on holding Trump accountable" constantly shifts and doesn't seem to be acknowledged, even when we are in the realm of the unprecedented for any former American president. And yet we do continue to make progress, and as I say whenever there's a development on that front, the LAST thing we should do is pre-emptively throw up our hands, despair about how it still doesn't mean anything, or just won't work. I know pessimism is easy and hopelessness feels like our default setting; the last almost-decade has kicked the absolute SHIT out of us and I won't pretend otherwise. But nonetheless, this is still happening. We just have to hang in there and do our part.

If we do that, and trust that Jack Smith and co. do theirs (as they have been doing so far), then things will probably, in fact, be okay. We cannot ever make the mistakes of 2016 again, which is why it's so maddening that a significant minority of leftist-identifying people seem determined to do exactly that, but it's certainly not as if all hope is already lost and the indictments will be a magic wand to speed Trump back to the White House (again, God forbid). We have to keep that in mind and our eyes on the goal, so yeah. We can do it and we must, and that's about all there is to it.

#anthropicmoose #ask #politics for ts #the giant orange monster

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eventinelysplayground · 1 year ago

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Family Outing

I was inspired for this by an anime short online that popped up in my feed. Leon, Emma and their daughter have a fun family outing. Contains spoilers for Leon's route so if you haven't done his route and don't want it spoiled give this a skip WC approx 1150.

Leon stood tall and proud as he gave out his orders.

Leon: This is going to be difficult, we're facing one scary and tough opponent but I don't doubt for a minute we can do it! Are you ready?

???: Yes!

Leon grinned as he bent down and clasped his daughter on the shoulder.

Leon: That's what I like to hear, now come here.

Leon scooped up his daughter in one arm and reached the other out to Emma.

Leon: Hold on tight, both of you, and don't let go.

Leon felt his daughter's arm tighten around his neck and he grabbed Emma's hand while holding her gaze as she smiled up at him.

Emma: Have I ever?

Leon gave Emma a wink and then he took off in a mad dash down the palace corridors. As they ran they passed several servants as well as Licht all of whom just shook their heads and continued to go about their tasks. They were just about to round a corner and were almost out but Leon knew what was waiting.

Leon: Alright now, this is the tough part!

From the corners of his eyes Leon saw Emma and their daughter nod their heads in agreement and he couldn't help but chuckle. As soon as they came around the corner there was Sariel arms crossed looking every bit the devil that people called him.

Sariel: Your Majesties just what do you think you're doing?

Leon: Just going for a stroll, don't worry we won't be back too late!

Leon wasn't slowing down but Sariel didn't look like he was going to give in either. Just then one of his daughter's arms slipped free of his neck and slipped into her dress pocket.

Princess: Lord Sariel, catch!

Leon watched the little princess throw a glass vial in the direction of Sariel's feet, Sariel tried to catch it but he wasn't quite fast enough and pink smoke started to fill the hallway.

Leon: Sophie sweety what was that?

Sophie: Just something Uncle Clavis gave me, he said it was safe and that it would be pretty.

Leon glanced at Emma who nodded back at him and they both ran as fast as they could through the smoke and finally out the door at the end of the corridor. Once they were out of the palace grounds Leon set Sophie down and quickly checked her and Emma over and after he made sure they were fine they all headed into town.

There was a festival happening today and the town was full of people, delicious smells and lively music. Leon couldn't help but grin as he saw the excitement on his family's faces.

Leon: Well what do you girls want to do first?

Leon waited as he watched Emma and Sophie scan their surroundings. After a bit Sophie tugged on her mother's skirt and pointed down a row of vendors. Leon looked to see what his daughter was pointing out and he let out a soft chuckle while shaking his head.

Emma & Sophie: The book vendor!

Leon: Whatever my girls want.

Leon, Emma and their daughter spent the afternoon and early evening walking around town. After the book vendor they took part in almost everything going on at the festival, they had to be a bit careful though. Even in simple clothing the chance somebody would recognize either himself or Emma especially was higher now but he had decided times like this were worth the risk. They had all just finished dancing together and sat down to have some cider when Leon started to think.

Before he used to sneak out of the palace not just to connect with the people but also to simply experience life. Being a slave all he ever experienced was different types of pain, then after he came to the palace sure all of that pain had stopped but palace life came with it's own drawbacks and he knew even then that wasn't how most of the people lived.

Emma: Leon, are you okay?

Emma's voice broke through his thoughts and Leon turned his head to her and smiled.

Leon: Ya I'm fine, what about you? I know it was a lot today and I hope we didn't push you too much.

Emma: I'm fine, just a little tired.

Leon reached out his hand lightly running it over Emma's slightly swollen stomach. He couldn't wait for this little one to come so it could join in on all the fun.

Sophie: Mommy, Daddy look, a puppet show! Can I go watch? Please?

Leon: Alright but only for a little bit and make sure we can see you.

Leon turned on the bench so he could keep a better eye on Sophie. As he watched her delight at the puppet show he thought about how happy he had been when she was born, how happy it made him to have something else pure and joyful that was all his own. Suddenly Leon found his thoughts circling back to their earlier direction, he snuck out now so that his daughter got to experience things he never got to, so she had the happiest childhood he could give her. He knew he'd do the same for the one on the way and the ones after that. He wanted to always make them happy. Just as Leon finished thinking that, he felt a weight land on his shoulder and then he heard Emma's slow, steady breathing.

Leon: Just a little tired?

Leon adjusted Emma so she was more comfortable then just continued to watch his daughter enjoying the puppet show. Once it was finished she came over to him rubbing her eye.

Sophie: Did Mommy fall asleep?

Leon: Yup, and it looks like you're about to do the same.

Sophie: No… I'm just a *yawn* little sleepy.

Leon laughed at Sophie's yawn. He looked down at Emma and gently kissed her on the forehead then he carefully scooped her up in his arms and stood up.

Leon: Ok sweety you next. I want you to stand on the bench ok.

Sophie nodded and stood on top of the bench.

Leon: Good now I'm going to come closer and I want you to very gently climb into Mommy's lap ok, just be careful not to press or sit on your baby brother or sister. You think you can do that?

Sophie: Yes.

Leon stepped closer and bent down a bit so she could reach better. Sophie carefully climbed into her Mother's lap giving a quick kiss to her stomach and then nestled her head into her father's shoulder.

Sophie: Daddy, are you going to carry us all the way home?

Leon: Of course.

Sophie: But it's so *yawn* far.

Leon: Don't worry about that princess. I've carried a lot of things in my life and I can say for certain that carrying you, your Mommy and your sibling is the best thing ever.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince leon #ikepri leon #leon dompteur

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my-jokes-are-my-armour · 3 months ago

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Nothing else matters

I wanted to make it an hidden post like most of my Chris and Di posts but this one means to me.

Ok. What have they done to me ? I woke up and the first thought about Chris and Di just brought tears to my eyes again. Flipping heck !

I guess there is a part of my current emotional state for other things involved but also the reflexion of some things in my life, that were kinda represented last night.

Two months ago, I picked up their duo at a moment when my hyperfixations couldn't be satisfied by anything because there is a blackhole in the communication of The Witcher and TAD. And the world is crazy and I am angsty without anything to hold onto. So when I found that new fixation I grabbed it like it would save me from drowning. Suddenly every week I had something to watch that would bring a smile on my face. I knew from the start that it was for a short period of time but it was nice.

But as the weeks were going by, I realised that I found in them a quality that I found in several of my hyperfixations through time, that defines me also, and that is really beautifully phrased by Joey, as now my blog's title for two years : "my jokes are my armour".

I think it is very true for Chris and Dianne too.

Dianne is full of positive energy and is smashing through difficulties with a smile and Chris is a comedian who thrives in making people laugh. But they are both very sensitive persons. Dianne is more open to let her emotions go while Chris is shielding throwing jokes when it matters.

Being disabled makes everything harder, whatever you are doing, it requires more energy from you than for a non disabled person, especially when you are not used to the task. Chris hit walls at the beginning: he was out of shape for a part and he had to integrate so many new elements. They were joking at his grandpa demanures and grumpy nature. But this was ok. This was part of the learning curve. Any physical activity you pick up from scratch is a pain in the ass at the begining. Then he realised that he liked dancing and that he wasn't so bad at it. And he put the difficult part of the process down a little bit focusing in the laughs they could get and their duo's personality. And you kinda forget that this is still exhausting as hell for him. Until week 11.

Last week was the first time I was seeing him hitting physical walls again but like proper walls. He joked again but he said that he was in pain from week 1 and it didn't stop. But here the real issue in my opinion was more the amount of energy he had to find to continue to deliver was exceeding his reserves a bit too much. And he was very low, reserving himself to bring it for the show at his best. This week was worse with two dances to learn. They simplified the choreographies for a part but they pushed the limits anyway.

The charleston was the most disconnected danse they ever made and on the dancefloor this is like hardcore for him as he rely on his sense of touch for a lot. He had to be perfect in his timing for this to work. And then for the viennese waltz he worked so hard on his posture. The thing that every juge was coming at him over and over. But then there was the emotion and the meaning behind what they are doing.

Through the series of their danses, 80% of the time, Chris and Di were bringing a joyful side. There was cuteness, comedy, or simply good energy. And there were some others that were more meaningful. And tonight they brought that twice as hard.

The first dance was a testament to what they always did : bring joy and energy. They wanted us to smile. The song itself was an invitation to smile.

And the second one was what was behind the smiles, and the other messages they tried to convey. Except for the paso doble, I have never seen Chris so serious and focused on a dance. Dianne was a ball of emotions.

I can only extrapolate what the song meant to them from what they said, what I saw and my own feelings toward it. This was probably not the most perfect viennese waltz of the season, but it was the most meaningful to me. I couldn't see all the bits of what came after yet, I caught up some descriptions and pictures, and saw their exit camera and juge score reaction.

Chris was the most emotional I have ever seen him. He barely registered the 9s. And Dianne gave a beautiful speech.

That dance his her victory too. And maybe that was the reason she seemed to breath emotions all along.

When it started and people saw she was paired with Chris, people joked about how short her adventure would be. Reflecting both how the general opinion see disabled people like default loosers and doubted her capacity to adapt to the challenge ahead. And two weeks later people loved them so much that they saved them when they were about to fall over and over, proving the doubtful noisy voices that they can do it and that yes, people wanna see their journey on their telly, proving also that representation is needed and welcomed.

Bring your best, move people, bring them joy, whoever you are. And maybe that is the meaning of the song : nothing else matters.

I really don't know if they will make it to the final. From the show narration they are set up for an exit. And if Pete's popularity is way bigger than Chris and Dianne's one, the dance off can be fatal. They know already but I will have my answer tonight. I just wanted to write this down before the final results.

Another thought. Chris seems really exhausted, so maybe this is a good thing to step out now. I am sure he would push harder if they are in the final but he has to take care of himself too.

"Winning isn't everything" as they said at the beginning. And for me they won no matter what ❤️.

#chris and di #i am still emotional #sorry for the crappy gifs

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heavenprotect · 6 months ago

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#𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏 - 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

a cousin of wendy and her siblings through their father, steve has always spent every summer at gravity falls ever since he was a kid. having graduated early ahead of his class at 15 years old, steve moved to gravity falls—with his parents’ permission—to work for a year or two in order to save up for college/university. he was awarded some scholarships and a spot at MIT after his early graduation from high school but he wanted to spend a few years just living out his life as a teenager until he had to face the real world as a young adult.

until the year before the twins’ arrival, he had been tasked to get rid of a few things and to throw them into the bottomless pit—in the process of tossing out the trash, the redhead tripped and fell in. under more normal—if you can call it normal—circumstances, steve should’ve just floated in the bottomless void for a period of time before being tossed right back out but that didn’t happen, perhaps there was a glitch in the multiverse or some unfortunate alignment between celestial bodies, either way, when steve popped out of the bottomless pit, he ended up somewhere else.

the time he spent in the nightmare dimension was brief but the ramifications of that moment would affect far more than just his mind.

steve managed to return to his home dimension by throwing himself through the bottomless pit again, perhaps someone or something out there was looking out for him that time as he returned only mere moments after falling through the first time. he didn’t go back to work that day, only muttering to stan that he wasn’t feeling well and went home.

he locked himself in his room for over two weeks, rarely sleeping if at all because of the nightmares that haunt his dreams. he ignored everyone’s concern and attempts to talk with him, instead steve just went through his sketchbook, scrawling the images in his head until one day, he simply came out of his room to join the corduroys at the kitchen for breakfast. any attempt at asking him what happened was ignored and things just went back to normal—though steve would have moments of not talking to anyone for a day or two, sometimes even disappearing for several hours but the redhead always reassured his family by calling them through his phone, saying he just needs to be away from people.

though still plagued by nightmares and other… changes, steve still continues to adjust and has taken on certain duties to protect the people of gravity falls.

#「 ☀ 」 ╱ verse drop.#「 ☀ 」 ╱ v. gravity falls.#/ let's gooooooooo

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codiecoda · 6 days ago

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Ignored - Lex Luthor/Slade Wilson Fanfic

Alex watches Slade ignore his messages

[Drabble Prompt: You know when your phone buzzes, it means I’m trying to talk to you, right?]

The relationship between Slade and Alex was something that was admittedly complicated, with their rivalry extending even despite the fact that Slade was now working at the company that Alex ran instead of for the government. He had done everything he could in order to resolve the issues between him and Slade and even made him head of security, but to Alex's dismay, the way the assassin behaved towards him hadn't changed in the slightest. In truth it seemed as though he was purposely attempting to fuck with his head with some of the things he would do but the final straw came as of recently.

Alex had always found sending messages to Slade to be much easier than talking to him, especially when it came to sensitive topics. It was because of this reason that when he found that he needed his presence, he sent out a quick message to him and waited. He was able to see on the cameras the exact moment the assassin received his message, and despite the urgency he had placed on the message, Slade placed his phone back in his pocket and proceeded to continue about his unimportant tasks for another hour before making his way up to him. It was an act that had Alex ready to throw out every act of kindness he had shown Slade, as it was clear that he simply did not care enough to show him the tiniest bit of respect in return.

“What do you want, Alex?” Slade questioned as he walked in, having not even bothered waiting for permission to enter his space. “I have many other tasks I need to get to before—”

“You know when your phone buzzes, it means I’m trying to talk to you, right? I was unaware that was a foreign concept to you, but.. apparently I do need to break things down for you. I could have been hurt or something, and you chose to ignore me.” Alex acknowledged with his voice seething with emotion, doing his absolute best to keep himself under control as to not give the assassin the satisfaction of knowing he made him feel that bad. “I could have been stabbed or something, and.. you ignored me.”

“Your voyeuristic habits haven't changed in the slightest. I have work to do.. I don't have time to come rushing to you to combat your insecurity. I had the security system in this room installed personally. I know you're okay.” Slade noted with a sense of boredom in his tone, not missing the way the other man seemed to be on the verge of tears at this point. “Next time if you want my attention.. offer me sex. Trust me.. I will come running to see you on your knees in a heartbeat.”

“That is— That is sexual harassment. I should have you fired for making such statements towards me. I am your boss!” Alex stammered out as his emotional state suddenly gained a new emotion, knowing how hot his cheeks were burning. “What are you.. What are you doing?”

“Dinner tonight.. You, me, and that Italian restaurant downtown. I trust that won't be an issue for you, boss? I know you're desperate for my attention so why not make this easy? I will even give you permission to take my pants off this time, unlike the whole ‘checking for injuries’ fiasco.” Slade remarked as he scribbled down the information in the other man's schedule, unable to keep a straight face as he saw how embarrassed he had become when he reminded him of how their current arrangement came to be. “I appreciate you not leaving me out there, but I'm not so sure you touching my legs like that can be considered checking for injuries. It is a shame you backed out the moment that I regained consciousness, though.. I was in an appreciative mood.”

“You can.. You can leave now. I will meet you for dinner tonight.. and take you up on that suggestion. I think that is a conversation better left until outside of working hours.” Alex acknowledged before being silenced by the assassin's mouth being on his in something that resembled a kiss, not missing the look he was given by the assassin before he took his leave. “... I'm not quite sure if I should feel safe right now.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63340894

#fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #lex luthor #my adventures with superman #maws #slade wilson #slex #slade/lex

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overdueforarevival · 4 months ago

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Whumptober Day 25 - Is It Over Now?

'It's for your own good'

Summary: Crosshair left, Tech is dead, Echo's run off with Rex and Omega is missing. Everyone Wrecker loves is gone and all that's left is Hunter. What happens when he thinks he might end up losing Hunter too?

Wrecker has looked up to his brother for as long as he’s breathed. Smart and cunning, they never met a task they couldn’t beat. Wrecker has always been there to help, always been the muscle, the wrecking ball to carve the way out for them, but he’s never been the one with the answers. Never been the one to lead or give orders, hell half they time Tech has to spell out the orders for him when he can’t keep up with their fast-paced thinking.

Not that he’s ever minded, he sees the toll leading takes on Hunter and knows he’ll forever be grateful to the man for taking on that particular burden. Wrecker can follow orders and listen to what his brothers say, do as he’s told and help them win every battle. His strength has never once failed him, a tool that never wavers, an asset he’ll carry with him everywhere.

That was when there were more of them. The four of them against the world and then Echo joined and Wrecker would listen to him too, let Echo find solutions and he’d simply do as they asked of him. But now it’s just him and Hunter, a lonely and stone-hearted duo crashing through the galaxy on their never-ending hunt for their lost siblings.

Tech is dead, rotting deep in a valley on Eriadu to never be found again and Echo has left them for Rex, throwing himself into the middle of another war. Wrecker is tired of war, tired of fighting and tired of losing. It was easier in the Clone Wars, when he didn’t even know what loss felt like and every day was another victory to be carved into his wall. Loss hangs in the air now, permeating every room of the Marauder, between Omega’s empty room, Tech’s smashed goggles and Crosshair’s dusty rifle. Loss is all Wrecker knows now.

But he won’t give up, not yet. Not until his siblings are home, not until Omega is back in her room under the fairy lights and Crosshair sits in a corner oiling his gun. Only then will Wrecker finally rest, settle down on Pabu with his family and live out his days in peace.

First, they have to find their siblings and Wrecker knows Hunter won’t admit it, but he’s losing hope too. They’ve been across the galaxy twice so far and are doubling back for a third trip going from tip to tip to try and track their wayward family.

Every clue leads to a dead end and behind every door are five more doors and none of them seem to conceal the right answers. Hunter doesn’t really speak anymore, doesn’t say anything that isn’t related to the mission and Wrecker misses him. He’s right there in front of him and Wrecker misses him so deeply it aches in his chest. Hunter is all Wrecker has left and with every passing day he feels his brother slip further and further away.

Hunter doesn’t eat enough, only when Wrecker blocks him in a corner and refuses to move until he eats something. It’s not nearly enough, but it’s better than nothing. He doesn’t sleep either, always offering to take the first watch and then remaining awake even when Wrecker insists they switch over. Dark bags hang under his eyes and even through the tattoo Wrecker can see how pale his skin is. Bone sticks out underneath the pale skin, the muscle that used to line his body slowly degrading. Wrecker worries that one day he’ll blink and Hunter will be gone.

Somehow, despite the disrepair the Sergeant has allowed his body to fall to, he continues to complete every mission with the same skill he’s always had. Wrecker watches as he lands every shot he takes and talks his way through every situation effortlessly. Even if he avoids any form of hand-to-hand combat at all costs, Hunter’s skill in battle does not waver.

But when the man starts walking into the corners of tables and tripping over the cracks between the panels on the Marauder’s floor, Wrecker takes matters into his own hands. He’s never been the one to give orders before, even when he tells Hunter to take care of himself, it’s more of a plea. Desperate begging for his brother to not allow himself to waste away.

Today, Wrecker marches up to Hunter where he’s sitting in the cockpit, had hung low over a datapad as he rubs his forehead tiredly, clearly fighting off a headache. He squares himself up to his full height, pulls his shoulders back and places his hands on his hips like Crosshair used to.

‘Hunter, you need to sleep,’ Wrecker states firmly, staring down at the man who waves him off half-heartedly, not even bothering to look up.

‘Later,’ he grunts.

Anger bursts through Wrecker’s chest, months of worry built up until he can’t hold it back anymore and without any thought at all, he’s pinning Hunter back against his chair.

‘Not later. Now,’ Wrecker growls, fingers digging into Hunter’s bony shoulder hard enough that bruises will surely bloom there but for once, Wrecker finds that he doesn’t care. ‘You’re exhausted and- and not okay and I’m… I’m not standing for it anymore!’

Wrecker thinks he should have planned out what he wants to say to Hunter better, lay it all out and let his brother know just what he thinks of his inability to care for himself. Instead, all that comes up is jumbled thoughts.

‘I’m fine, Wrecker,’ Hunter insists, an infuriating air of nonchalance to his tone as he tries to push Wrecker’s hand off his shoulder. Whether by Wrecker’s inhuman strength of Hunter’s malnourished lack of it, he’s embarrassingly unsuccessful. ‘Seriously, you don’t have to worry about me,’

‘Well, I do! And I don’t care if you’re the Sergeant or you’re incharge, I say you go to sleep. Now!’ Wrecker demands. Hunter does not budge.

‘I’ll sleep when we find Omega,’ he sighs, trying to reach for his datapad again, but Wrecker snatches it with his free hand and launches it against the viewport, shattering the device and cracking the glass. ‘For kriff sa—’

‘You’ll be dead when we find Omega!’ Wrecker bellows, shaking Hunter by the shoulder. ‘You’ll be dead and she’s probably dead and everyone will be dead and I’ll be here! Alone! I say sleep, so go to fucking sleep!’

Hunter’s staring up at Wrecker in disbelief now. The Bad Batch have always been notorious for their infighting, brothers who love each other to the ends of the galaxy but will happily beat each other into the infirmary once a week. Wrecker’s never gotten involved with it, never felt the need to bloody up his brothers the way they always did. Generally, he was the one holding them back from each other. Wrecker understands them now.

‘Osik! What the hell, Wrecker? Get off of me,’ Hunter cries, trying once more to pry Wrecker’s hand off his shoulder with both of his own to no avail. ‘This is ridiculous, I’m fine,’

Wrecker’s blood is boiling in his veins, burning through to the skin and he’s sure that if it weren’t for the armoured plating on Hunter’s shoulder, he’d be burning the man’s skin clean off. He’s heard enough of Hunter’s lies and ignorance, had enough of his brothers not taking care of themselves.

Without a word of warning, Wrecker leans forward and yanks Hunter out of the chair, slinging him over his shoulder and carrying him from the cockpit. Hunter yelps and slams his fists against Wrecker’s back, bellowing obscenities and demanding to be let down. Wrecker pays him no mind, marching through the ship, past the small medical bay where he grabs a needle out of one of the drawers and then continues on to the bunk room.

Without much grace or tact, Wrecker dumps his brother onto the closest bunk and, when he doesn’t stop fighting, puts his knee on his stomach.

‘Wrecker!’ Hunter yelps, grunting in protest of the impact on his abdomen. ‘What are you doing? Let me go! Let me go, now!’

‘No.’ Wrecker shakes his head firmly. He grabs both of Hunter’s wrists in one hand and pins them on the pillow above his head. ‘This is for your own good,’

‘My own good? Wrecker, what are you— OW!’ Hunter shouts, fighting against Wrecker’s grip as he plunges the tip of the needle into the vein in his neck. Hunter freezes, clearly deciding that fighting while a needle is stuck in his jugular and stares up at Wrecker in disbelief. ‘What did you do?’

‘Same thing you would have,’ Wrecker responds coldly, removing the needle and letting go of Hunter at the same time. He takes a few steps back and watches his brother as the cogs turn in his head and realisation dawns.

‘Bastard,’ Hunter chokes out, one hand lowering to clutch the side of his neck where a few beads of blood drip down to the bed. He doesn’t get much further, though, because within seconds his whole body goes slack and his eyes fall shut.

Wrecker stands and stares at his brother, a man he used to look up to, a man he held on a pedestal for years, withering away before him. He never would have believed they could have fallen so far. Never would have believed they’d ever have so much to have lost.

For now, he’ll watch over his brother while he sleeps and force him to eat when he wakes up. He’ll fight day and night with the man if that’s what it takes because he’ll be damned if he sits by while yet another of his siblings slips out of his grasp. Perhaps one day it will be over and one day they’ll all sit together and watch the sun set. It isn’t over now, though, and Wrecker can’t afford to give up just yet.

They need to find their wayward siblings and then everything will be okay. It will all be over and Wrecker can live his life in peace, watching over those he loves as they grow old together. Omega will smile and play like she used to and his brothers will fight endlessly by when the sun sets, they’ll all be together.

#whumptober2024 #no. 25 #'it's for your own good'#star wars #the bad batch #fic #hunter #wrecker #crosshair #tech #echo #omega #hunter needs a hug #he gets sedated instead

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