#i Dooooooo not like it here at all

[goldensunset]

nobody asked

[luvmequmi]

hello people this is the love of my life I just wanted to remind everyone

[idsb]

I'm curious, now that you're in aus do you know whether you're planning on finding farm work near melbourne or regional work? I know you were still deciding a few months ago.

I love hearing about your australia adventures! it makes me want to drop everything and move there too

Ugh I am still trying to decide actually and I’m gonna have a car like. Today so go gotta pick a direction to drive in and I just! Don’t! Know! Aussies please send opinions about where it’d be better to spend time in the summer, I feel like I’m dying gdhdndjjdd

[theloveinc]

the ideas i'm having right now vs. my ability to express them and myself

[elytrafemme]

okay i will actually stop the public breakdown sort of now because it's kind of embarrassing but i do need to point out that my girlfriend sent me a video which i do not find funny and like i'm already splitting right now and i really do not need this energy in my life where are the funny men like what are we doing here

[kuiinncedes]

who is me sending a bunch of texts in rapid succession without thinking about them tooooo too much

[spiralsdrop]

This is a hypnosis story I've always loved. If anyone knows who the author is I would love to give them the credit they deserve for this.

“My friends and I were at a bar across town. It was dark, a little loud, underground, with dim red lights and drinks that cost too much. But there were lots of plush little booths and we managed to snag ourselves a corner, so we sat and got deep into drinking and chatting.

After an hour or so, there was a big commotion going on in one corner with people falling around laughing. Before we saw what was going on, everyone involved had stumbled away hooting and giggling. But my friend Rachel leads me over and there’s this young guy kind of holding court.

“What’s going on?” Rachel asks, over the music.

“Oh, I’m hypnotising people,” he says, casually, like people do that all the time.

“For real? You’re a hypnotist?”

“Yes I am,” he says.

Rachel thinks this is hysterical. I think it sounds ridiculous.

“We should dooooooo this!” she says, waving over the two other friends we’re out with.

“Should we?”

“We should! YOU should.”

“I don’t think so,” I say, but she’s already tugging on this guy’s arm… and pushing me towards him.

“Hypnotise Emma!”

“Yeah?”

“She REALLY wants to!”

He looks at me.

“Do you want to?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I’m un-hypnotisable.”

“Well,” he says. “Wanna find out?”

“You can try,” I say. I’m smirking a little bit. Silly me.

“Well, OK then. Here, take a seat.”

Like I said, I thought it was ridiculous.

There are two small wooden chairs facing each other and I sit in one. I smooth down the short, tight little dress I’m wearing. He – neat grey t-shirt, jeans, a tattoo of swirling black lines, like a soundwave, on one arm, a mischievous sparkle in his deep brown eyes, like someone who’s just had a sinfully good idea – sits on the other one, pulls it closer so our knees are almost touching. I’m a little nervous… but determined not to let it show.

“OK,” he says. He takes my arms and places them on the arm of my chair, palms up. He holds my hands with his and gives them a reassuring squeeze.

“You OK?”

“I’m fine.”

“This is going to be fun, OK?”

“Well, if you say so.”

Three of my friends are now gathered watching us. I hear Rachel say “I bet she thinks she’s a chicken five minutes from now.”

He lets go of my hands and wraps his gently around my wrists, his thumb on each, like he’s taking my pulse. He starts talking to me low and urgently, looking into my eyes warmly.

“So what’s your name?”

“Emma.”

“Where are we?”

“A bar.”

“What colour are the lights here?”

“Red.”

“Only red?”

“Some white.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Emma.”

”OK, Emma. We’re good.”

His thumbs are tracing circles on my skin.

His questions became… rhetorical. Think of my feet on the floor. Were they heavy? Did it feel good to just rest them there? Doesn’t it feel warm? Isn’t the chair comfortable?

It did feel comfortable. It felt like the second when an elevator stops descending and you’re that little bit heavier. I felt warm like sinking into a fresh bath. He put his hand on my bare shoulder. It felt solid and good.

Didn’t I feel calm? Isn’t it nice? Try closing my eyes. Keep listening to his voice. Even raised over the music is voice, is like a heavy blanket on a lazy Sunday. His hand slides to rest under my hair, on the back of my neck. Weren’t my wrists relaxed? Like they could rest on the arms of the chair forever. His other hand taps out a rhythm on my knee. Calm like warm sunshine on my skin. The sounds around me drift off into a dull hubbub. This was more relaxing than I th…

…I open my eyes and time has jumped just a little. Maybe it’s a few seconds later – or a few minutes? Which was weird. But it can’t have been long. My friends were all still there. And I still felt good. Calm. Nice. The rest of the world feels a little muffled, like the air is thicker.

“All awake, Emma?”

I nod.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel… fine.”

“That’s good.”

He rested his fingertips on my wrists and… oh.

“How does that feel?”

For some reason, it felt SO good. It was like one of those feelings that ran all through your body, like the feeling I get when my neck is being kissed, or my nipples are teased, or having ‘good girl’ growled quietly in my ear.

“It feels good,” I murmured. I was still sort of sleepy.

His fingertips started running slowly up and down my wrists, from my up-turned palms to the crook of my elbow. It was like the sexiest teasing I’d ever felt. Tingles rushed up to my shoulders and through my chest. I could feel my nipples getting hard under my dress.

“Do you like the way it feels?”

I nodded. The tingling was spreading through my tummy and between my legs. I was calm and floaty and burningly turned on all at once. He pulled his hands away. I bit my lip in frustration.

“More?”

“Yeah.”

He picked up his chair and moved it. I felt him sit down behind me. He leaned in close and whispered “Close your eyes…” into my ear. I did what I was told.

The moment his hands touched my back I gasped like lightning ran down my spine to my crotch. Every tiny hair on my neck stood up in reaction to his touch.

“Fuck.”

Each stroke of my shoulder blades felt like being stroked… everywhere, all at once. My clit was getting harder and more sensitive with each rub. My underwear felt hot and wet. I could barely control my breathing.

His hands slid over my shoulders and teasingly over my upper arms. It was like ecstasy. Just the fabric of my underwear against my clit was delicious. I slid my ass against the wooden chair instinctively trying to find some friction or relief. As he blew gently on the back of my neck I leaned back and spread my legs in the confused hope of being touched. I fucking ached with pleasure.

“It’s such a strong feeling,” he murmured in my ear, “when you think about it.”

He pulled his hands away once again. My heart was thudding in my chest, my nipples were hard through the fabric of my dress which had ridden up from my accidental grinding against the seat. Even with my eyes closed, I looked like a hot mess but I was so turned on I was beyond caring. I was just glad the club was so dark.

He puts brought his chair around to my side and just in front, so it was perpendicular to me. He sits in, close.

“How are you feeling?”

I open my eyes. I’m dimly aware of the giggling of my friends, and the gaze of some other onlookers over me. I feel a wave of heat as my face reddens.

“Don’t worry about them,” he says. “Look at me.”

“This is crazy,” I mouthed.

”I told you it would be fun.”

I’m speechless.

“Keep going?”

I was nodding before I even thought about it.

He scoots in front of me a little more. “Put your leg on my lap, Emma.” I lift my bare leg and place it tentatively across his knees.

His hand rests on my knee and a jolt of pleasure hit me. It snakes up my thigh to my wet cunt and fizzles deep me, my hips twitching. To my embarrassment I let out a moan of pure pleasure.

His fingertips are stroking my skin in soft, little circles. My thighs are starting to shake. Laughter among the crowd sends me blushing. He shakes his head in their direction and then looks at me.

“Emma, look at me.”

His twinkling eyes lock mine.

“You’ve been doing really well. Don’t worry about them. Listen to my voice.”

I nod in breathless agreement. His fingertips start drumming slowly on top of my thigh, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two three..

It feels like a fluttering feeling inside me and I scrunch my eyes closed in delight. I squirm in my seat, squeezing my thighs together tightly just for a hint of pressure on my clit.

“Emma, look at me.”

“You’ve been doing really well. I know it feels intense. It feels so strong…”

I’m trembling with each quickening tap. One-two-three-one-two-three-one-two-three-one-two-three…

“It’s getting stronger and stronger, Emma. Like you can’t hold back.”

The drumming moves imperceptibly up my thigh, to the edge of my dress and it feels 100 times stronger. I’m arching my back. My hands grip the arm of the chair like they’re my bedsheets when I’m touching myself. I’m so close…

“Emma, listen to me.”

“Oh my god.”

“Emma, listen.”

“I’m… please… I…”

“Let go.”

With those two words the orgasm hits me like an explosion, my thighs clamping together, the contractions in my cunt are so strong I bend double in my chair.

“Let go.”

It feels like I’m being fucked hard and deep while I cum, my g-spot is spasming with pleasure. I cry out helplessly.

“Let go.”

His hand gripping my thigh sends another orgasm shivering through my clit and then bursting inside of me. I feel a hot flood of wetness soak through my panties as I involuntarily squirt a little.

“Let go.”

I slump back in the chair as my hips jolt into the air. I can hear my friends shrieking with laughter as they watch me orgasm uncontrollably. I try to hold back but I can’t stop cumming. Each squeeze of my thigh sends another wave of powerful juddering contractions through my pussy, makes me moan, twitch, gush, gasp, grind, shake, cum.

I’ve never cum for so long.

“OK, you. Come here.”

He takes my leg off his lap and comes in close to me. He wraps his hand on my neck and pulls me toward him, my forehead resting on my shoulder, exhausted and trembling. “Just relax,” he murmurs. “Listen to my voice…”

I sink back into a calm darkness.

A few moments later I wake up, sheepish and embarrassed… but even so, I can’t stop grinning. He strokes my wrist one last time – no unbearable pleasure, this time – and smiles. I tentatively stand up, and my legs are like jelly. Rebecca grabs me incredulously and says “OH. MY. GOD.”

“I. KNOW.”

I tell her I have to excuse myself to use the bathroom and shakily stumble in that direction. It’s busy with girls streaming in and out, but in the mirror, I see my face and chest are flushed pink. And my hair’s a mess.

I shut myself in the cool dark cubicle and slide off my panties, down my ankles and over my shoes and step out of them. They’re so drenched from my cum I throw them in the trash can. I instinctively reach between my legs and fuck, I’m still so wet and sensitive. I lean back against the cubicle door and let my fingertips find my slick, hard, throbbing clit. It feel so good to finally feel the touch my body had been craving.

Around me were the sounds of doors opening and closing, girls talking, water running, the throbbing music from next door and the hand-dryer blowing.

I was so hungry to feel full inside and I greedily pushed two fingers deep inside, sliding in deliciously easily. My knees buckled with satisfaction as I slowly, quietly fucked myself. Each time the hand dryer switched on, I pumped my fingers in and out hard and fast, the noise of the motor covering the sounds of my wetness, until it stopped and I had to wait for more agonising seconds.

When I couldn’t take it any more, with one last blast of the hand dryer, I frantically rubbed my clit, my other hand grabbing my tit, and then those commanding words “Let go… let go… let go…” suddenly reverberating in my head, until, my hand clamped over my mouth, I came for the second time that night, my legs buckling in shock, sliding down the cubicle door until I was sat on my heels, waves of pleasure still shuddering through my thighs.

I sat on the toilet for a few minutes and straightened myself out, until the red flush of orgasm had faded from my chest. Then I went back out to join my friends… embarrassed, sans underwear but oh-so-satisfied.

And when I’m alone, the words ‘let go…’ can still push me over the edge sometimes :)”

I would love to give proper credit to this author. If any of you know who wrote this please let me know so I can tag them and give them the credit they deserve.

[hazbininlove]

Hopelessly Devoted - Chapter 3

-About 5.5k. No real warnings in this chapter!

Charlie is more or less freaking out at the moment. She received news a week ago that Esther would be coming back down to assist with the Hotel and would be bringing a guest. Now today is the day of that visit and she feels like nothing is ready. Everything in the hotel feels out of place and she doesn’t know how to fix it.

“Charlie, you need to relax,” Vaggie says, coming up to her and placing her hands on Charlie’s shoulders. Charlie grabs at her own hair in frustration.

“I can’t, Vaggie! Esther didn’t come into the hotel last time and I just want it to be perfect! And she said she’s bringing someone else! What if it’s Sera? What if it’s Michael?! WHAT IF IT'S GOD?!”

“Charlie! She’s not bringing God to our hotel! And I doubt she’d bring Michael here! He’s probably the last person who’d ever willingly down here.”

Charlie groans and slumps into Vaggies hold. “What am I gonna dooooooo-“

“Do about what?”

“Ah!” Charlie jumps out of Vaggie’s hold and looks to the entrance where her dad is standing. His eyebrows furrow in concern.

“You doing alright, apple pie? You look uhhh kinda tired,” he inquires.

“Dad! Hi! I could really use your help right now! Esther is coming down any minute now and he’s bringing someone and-“

“Esther!” Her dad yells, his hands now gripping her arms. “She’s coming here?! Today?! Now?!!”

“Ooooh I see I forgot to mention that,” Charlie replies sheepishly, laughing awkwardly to herself. “I knew I was forgetting something.”

Lucifer’s hands let go of her to grip his own hair, knowing his hat off his head. He starts pacing as he freaks out.

“Oh hell she’s coming here. I haven’t prepared anything. Nothing has felt right! I haven’t even had the time to fix up my wings. My WINGS!”

He yells, and his wings pop out behind him in the largest form Charlie’s seen from him in months, knocking over a painting as he does so. “Satan’s smelly asscrack! They’re a mess! How the fuck am I supposed to impress her with this disaster?!”

“I don’t think Uncle Satan would appreciate that comment,” Charlie mumbles, trying to defuse the situation.

“He’s an ugly sweaty fuck! He can handle a few insults in his name!” Lucifer yells back. He pauses, groans, and rubs at his temples. “Sorry, apple pie. I’m just nervous and didn’t mean to yell. Satan definitely deserves it though.”

“Aren’t the two of you supposed to be twins or something?” Vaggie asks, approaching the two of them. “Isn’t that why people confuse you two so often?”

“Aha, no, you know all those pictures of a red dude with horns that people think is me? That’s Satan. He’s just such a damn menace that of course when shit goes sideways, they think he’s the actual devil which then confuses people and- you know what? It’s a whole thing. The point is, he smells like shit half the time I see him and I think he does it on purpose.”

“Dad, I think we’re off track again. Why are you freaking out about your wings? And can you please make them smaller before you break anything else?” Charlie asks.

Sheepishly, Lucifer does just that, letting them get smaller until they’re at a more appropriate size indoors. He snaps his fingers to fix the things he knocked over and continues pacing as he fiddles with his hands.

How does one explain to their daughter that he has an inside joke of sorts with his soulmate and now as part of proving himself to her again, he has to behave like a duck during mating season and impress her.

Shit, had Esther even meant that literally? Knowing her humor, she probably did, though she definitely expected more than just that as an apology. He wasn’t entirely sure how to apologize either. He’d told her everything the week before. Of course, just because he explained and apologized doesn’t mean she had to forgive him. And he knew one apology wouldn’t make up for several millennia apart, due to his own actions, but he really didn’t know what else to say or even do to make it up to her.

It just stressed him out more that he couldn’t think of anything to do about this. He couldn’t lose her again, not when he finally had a second chance. He’d been struggling to sleep for the past week just thinking about her. Her beautiful dark blue eyes, her wavy black hair with the streaks of white, the rich blue on the underside of her beautiful wings. Lucifer feels his heart beat a little faster at the thought of her bright smile aimed at him, eyes crinkled at the end in pure joy and those cheek marks on the corner of her mouth so high they almost look like they’re reaching her eyes.

“It’s nothing Char,” he replies to his daughter. “I just want to look my best when she arrives. And you said she’s bringing a gues- Who the fuck is she bringing?”

“We don’t know, sir. We can only assume it’s another angel,” Vaggie answers for her, likely stopping Charlie from panicking again.

“Oh fuck me! It’s probably Michael! It’s definitely Michael,” he replies, hands in his hair again as his eyes start to turn red and his voice sounds almost layered. “She talked about him so much last time, it probably is him. That fucker probably did mess with her head. She said she doesn’t love him but someone with Stockholm Syndrome probably wouldn’t admit they have it!”

“Okay!” Charlie claps loudly. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here! Vaggie’s right. We need to relax and think things through. I doubt she’d bring him of all people here. So let’s just focus on one thing at a time! Like cleaning up the lobby!”

Lucifer looks at his daughter with a blank stare and snaps his finger. A burst of gold sparks from his hand and sweeps around the room, cleaning up any dust and straightening out paintings and chairs alike as it goes.

“Can I go back to panicking now?”

“No!” Charlie yells, grabbing her dad and leading him towards the elevators. “We’re going to go get ourselves looking presentable!”

Vaggie watches in amusement but also concern as her girlfriend drags her whining father out of the lobby. Looking around the room, he definitely did a good job of cleaning up and saved them a good amount of time. Especially after the disaster left in the wake of Charlie’s own panicking.

She’s thankful that her and Charlie’s relationship isn’t as complicated as Lucifer’s and Esther’s. She feels bad for them. Knowing what she knows now, it all seemed like a “right person, wrong time” situation. And who knows how long those two even actually spent together before Lucifer had fallen.

The books she read aren’t exactly clear on how long between Lucifer’s creation and the creation of Eden took place. Lucifer is older than Earth, that much she knows, but how much older remains a mystery to everyone except the man himself, and she isn’t sure if asking is appropriate.

And to an immortal being who’s been around for as long as he has and still looks like a relatively young adult, how does time pass for him? Sinners remain the age they died at, but was Lucifer like Adam, Lilith, and Eve? Was he also created as an adult? Were the older angels created as children and then raised into adulthood before the aging stopped? Looking at a picture of Lucifer and Charlie, Lucifer looks the same age now as he did then. Now that Charlie’s older, he looks like he could’ve been a teenage father.

Had Lucifer and Esther had thousands of years between their creation and the Earth’s creation to spend together, or had it just been a few short years together before their forced separation? It doesn’t really matter, at the end of the day. They seemed to be the first and most functional of three pairs of soulmates ever made.

Like Esther had said the day before. The first attempt to recreate them ended in disaster with Adam and Lilith, Eve… No one in heaven had seen Eve in thousands of years and Adam never cared to talk about her besides when insulting her. The only pair that seemed to want to be together was Lucifer and Esther, and even they weren’t actually together because of the miscommunication between them that caused eons of loneliness for the two of them.

No wonder God never made more soulmates. The more Vaggie thinks about it, the more her head starts to hurt. She walks around the lobby instead, making sure nothing was out of place even with Lucifer’s magic.

A knock on the door alerted her to a guest. Vaggie paused, looking over to the bar where Husk had paused in his own polishing, and stared back at her.

“Try to keep the drinks to a minimum, please,” she says to him. He rolls his eyes but continues wiping the bar as she walks towards the door.

Before she can reach the door, a swirl of shadows lifts from the ground, and she curses to herself as she sees Alastor appear from it. She’s practically sprinting and he shifts his eyes to look at her, smile stretched impossibly wide, as he grips the door and pulls it open.

”Welcome, dear guests, to the Hazbin Hotel,” he says, greeting the two at the door.

There is Esther, smiling softly in greeting, with a taller man beside her. His skin is ghostly white like Lucifer’s, but his hair is black like Esther’s. It’s a bit longer than Lucifer’s, falling more into his face and curling around his neck. His suit is impeccable, white pants, black coat, and gray waistcoat. Along the shoulders of his coat are black pads lined in silver with intricate designs. His eyes are dark gray, bordering on blue closer to the pupils.

He looks like royalty, carries himself with an air of importance, but his eyes look soft and his expression is easygoing. It takes Vaggie a few moments before his appearance clicks in her mind.

This is Azrael, the Archangel of Death, the Virtue of Patience.

He’s rarely seen in any of the spheres of Heaven. He, like Raphael, spends most of his time on Earth. When he does return to Heaven, he passes through the spheres and says his hellos, but typically spends most of his time on Primum Mobile with the other higher ranking angels that aren’t ruling over a sphere like Sera.

If he spends any time in another sphere, it’s likely the first sphere where the majority of the winners reside, or in the third sphere where he was created, Venus, just as Lucifer and Esther were.

Well, Azrael is certainly better than Michael in terms of who would stress Lucifer out the most, but Vaggie isn’t holding out much hope. Esther had mentioned that Azrael was likely to visit, but she hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Especially since it’s only her second visit.

At least she could say that of all the virtues or archangels to bring, the Virtue of Patience would probably be the best to deal with all the chaos the people of this hotel were capable of causing.

Both of their wings were tucked away and out of sight, which was probably for the best both to get them through the door and so they wouldn’t take up too much space. They likely planned on spending a good amount of time there, if that was the case.

Vaggie bows to both of them, nervous at the sight of one of Heaven’s strongest angels. Azrael doesn’t fight, might as well be a pacifist, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable. The Seven Capital Virtues all have more power than most beings besides God himself, and even they aren’t the top of the hierarchy the way that the Seven Deadly Sins were down here in Hell.

“Welcome! It’s an honor for you to visit us,” Vaggie says. She may not live in Heaven anymore, or agree with everything they do, but even she knows the Virtues and the Archangel of Death deserved her utmost respect. Esther visiting had been a shock, especially since Vaggie had never seen her so she didn’t know her importance.

“Please, no need for all of that,” Azrael replies. His voice is light, almost airy, but strong. It’s so different from Lucifer’s rich and smooth tone of voice. Lucifer, despite his awkwardness around his daughter, talks in a voice that is loud and boisterous when he wants it to be, like he’s demanding attention. Azrael’s voice sounds more like a soft breeze, calming and comforting.

She supposes when it’s your job to console the souls of the dead and guide them towards their final resting place, a comforting tone is probably for the best.

“I assume you know who I am?” Azrael asks, taking a step into the hotel after gesturing for Esther to enter first. Vaggie nods, not sure what else to say. “I don’t get to say this often, but it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He holds his hand out for her to shake, and she takes it. His grip is just as soft as his voice. “It’s nice to meet you too, sir.”

“None of that. Azrael is just fine,” he replies.

Behind them, Esther is greeting Husk and Alastor. Vaggie wants to warn Esther that staying away from Alastor is for the best, especially considering Lucifer’s hatred for the other man, but there’s really no nice way to say that.

Lucifer’s not going to be happy when he sees both a brother of his that he hasn’t seen in eons suddenly here, and Alastor around the love of his life.

Today’s gonna be a shitty day in hell, that’s for sure.

“Well, where is our lovely host? I’ve been dying to meet my little niece,” Azrael says, looking around the lobby. Esther chuckles behind him.

“The puns will never stop with you, will they?” Esther asks him, a knowing smirk on her lips.

“Not until my last breath,” he teases back. It’s then that Vaggie realizes he’s been making references to death. It’s not something she expected, but knowing how Lucifer acts, she can’t say she’s entirely surprised that the weird jokes run in the family. “Now, my niece, please?”

“Right, yeah, she actually just went upstairs with her dad a few minutes ago, so they should be down shortly,” Vaggie’s replies. She wants to offer to go get them, but the idea of leaving them alone with Alastor sounds like a bad idea. Especially knowing that Husk is likely too drunk even this early in the afternoon to do anything about it.

Something in Azrael’s eyes flash at the mention of Lucifer, and his smile tightens just a bit. It’s not a good sign in Vaggie’s eyes.

“Samael is here as well? How splendid, I’ve missed the little one,” Azrael says back. Vaggie sees Esther roll her eyes at the nickname. It appears Lucifer’s height is a running joke. “My workload increased drastically when my fellow angel of death fell. Of course there are others but Samael was always a joy to work with.”

“You know he prefers to be called Lucifer,” Esther scolds him. Azrael pats her gently. They don’t look alike, besides the black hair, but they act almost like siblings.

The way Lucifer and Esther were created, to be practically married, and the fact that they’ve known each other for thousands of years, Vaggie wouldn’t be surprised if the other Virtues did see her as a sister.

Azrael hums but stays silent on the subject. Instead he chooses to move around the lobby. He goes to the bar to greet a stressed looking Husk as Esther approaches her.

“It’s Vaggie, correct?” She asks and Vaggie nods. “It’s nice to see you again, dear. I apologize for not mentioning Azrael’s visit. He likes surprises and once he has it in his head, there’s no stopping him.”

“Yes ma’am. It was definitely surprising, but I think that’s because I tend to forget that Charlie’s dad was also a high ranking angel.”

“Technically, he still is,” Esther replies. She smiles down at Vaggie, her eyes warm despite the dark cool blue color they have. “He may not be allowed in Heaven anymore, nor is he a Virtue as he once was, but he’s still one of the oldest and strongest of the angels.”

“How interesting,” Alastor says, approaching them. “One would think we’d see more of this strength you speak of.”

“If that was the case, you’d be wiped from existence with the way you like pissing him off, asshole,” Vaggie replies to him. She pauses for a moment to look back at Esther and apologize for her language, but the angel doesn’t look upset at all.

“Well, I suppose some good came from our king’s reclusive nature then!”

Alastor’s eye twitches but he says nothing more, thankfully.

Even after the battle against Adam, Vaggie knows that was nowhere near Lucifer’s full strength. The man was once a Virtue, an Archangel who answered directly to God, and a Seraphim, the highest rank of the angels. He wasn’t called God’s favorite angel for nothing. With all the power Lucifer was given upon his creation, being called the favorite almost felt like an understatement.

Not that there weren’t angels stronger than Lucifer, but Vaggie read about the fall. Lucifer wasn’t just tossed out of the gates like Charlie’s story makes it seem. Lucifer fought, and he fought hard. Michael may have led the charge against him, and been the one to throw him and Lilith towards hell, but it took several angels, mostly Seraphim, to finally weaken him.

Lucifer truly was a terrifying being, even before becoming the first sin.

“I hope you know you have nothing to worry about, dear,” Esther says to her as Alastor walks away. “If he’s anything like he was before, he’s never cared much for power.”

That much is obvious. Alastor didn’t call him a recluse for nothing. Lucifer has made it clear many times that he doesn’t care for sinners or want to truly rule them. The only times he shows off his powers is when he wants to show off for Charlie or do something for her.

“Now, tell me about the hotel, dear. Any new arrivals?”

Vaggie sits with her on the couches as she discusses the details. She’d prefer Charlie to be here, but she won’t keep her waiting either.

They haven’t had any new guests. Half the sinners were scared another attack would come from Heaven and wanted to avoid it. A few cannibals wanted to but really only for the promise of more angels attacking so they could eat more angels. Rosie had taken those few back quickly enough.

Vaggie wasn’t going to mention the cannibals to her, though she did mention their dilemma.

“I see, so an announcement should be made then, to confirm the end of these exterminations,” Esther decides.

That would require either Vox or Katie Killjoy, neither of which Vaggie wanted to deal with or felt Esther should have to.

Before she can respond, the elevator dings. Before she turns, she notices Azrael’s attention now off of Husk and turning towards the elevator as well.

“Okay, we’re ready to get this plan done!” Charlie says as she exits the elevators! Lucifer is behind her, messing with his clothes and patting himself down to make sure nothing is out of place.

“Uhh, Charlie?” Vaggie says, loudly enough for Charlie to hear her. Charlie looks to her, catches sight of Esther, and her eyes go wide.

“Oh shit she’s here already!”

“Where?!” Lucifer calls from behind her, his wings once more popping up. He doesn’t make them as large as last time, but they definitely look a bit better compared to minutes before. They puff up behind him, shaking a bit like a rattle snake’s tail, though clearly more from anxiety than warning.

Vaggie’s eyes shift to look at Esther, who’s covered her mouth a bit and looked away from the display, though based on the way her cheeks are raised, she’s trying to hide a smile.

“Well isn’t this a marvelous display?” a soft voice says. Vaggie turns to her other side where Azrael is standing now beside her, a smile on his face just as before. “Wonderful display of wings, brother.”

“A-Azrael? What are you doing here?” Lucifer shuffles closer to the door of the now closed elevator.

“I do believe Esther mentioned my desire for a visit. I simply couldn’t pass up the chance when she mentioned her plans to return so soon. It’s not often I have a moment to myself after all. But enough of that, this must be my niece, Charlotte, correct?”

“Yes! Hi! I’m Charlie! Um- Uncle?”

Azrael chuckles at Charlie’s stammering and approaches them. It’s at that moment that Lucifer moves forward, eyes narrowed and wings spread high and wide to cover Charlie behind him.

“What are you doing here?” Lucifer repeats, his tone much harsher now compared to his panicked tone before. Esther moves forward now, stepping between Lucifer and Azrael calmly.

She steps closer to Lucifer and grabs one of his hands. “Listen to him first, please. Don’t be rash.”

“Don’t be- You want me to believe one of my brothers just suddenly wants to visit?! Out of the goodness of his heart?!”

“Lucifer-“

“It’s fine, dear,” Azrael says, cutting Esther off. Lucifer’s eyes narrow further at the term of endearment. “He has every right to be suspicious. Our siblings, myself included, have let this go on for far too long right under our noses. And after the last time he saw us, it’s only fair he should be worried.”

Lucifer looks at Azrael with suspicion as he continues.

“Worry not, dear brother, I have no ill will. My intentions were solely to express my apologies for not being aware of this massacre of souls.”

Lucifer’s wings lower a bit when Esther’s hand tightens on his own. He looks at her briefly before looking back at Azrael and rolling his shoulders, allowing his wings to fully disappear again. Esther sighs in relief in front of him and gives him a comforting smile before moving completely out of the way, giving them the full view of Azrael.

It’s Charlie who looks between the three of them before coughing and offering them a seat. Both men nod and Charlie guides them back to the couches where Vaggie is still sitting.

“Thank you, my dear. It truly is wonderful to finally be able to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances but I suppose there’s no better time than the present,” Azrael says to Charlie. She lights up a bit as she sits beside Vaggie, and motions for him to sit across from her. Esther sits beside him on the couch, and Lucifer looks conflicted before taking a seat beside his daughter, his scowl clear and directed at his brother. “I’m sure you’re aware, but I am Azrael, one of your father’s older brothers. You may call me uncle if you’d like!”

Lucifer’s scowl deepens but says nothing as Charlie squeals in excitement and bursts with questions towards the older man. Vaggie is grateful that Azrael just happens to be the Virtue of Patience, because she isn’t sure any of the other Seven, especially Michael, would’ve lasted as long as him or answered as many questions.

“Babe, slow down. How about we talk about the hotel,” Vaggie suggests. Charlie takes a deep breath before rushing to go get her poster presentation that she’d apparently made especially for this.

She goes into detail about how she understands the number of sinners is greater than the number of winners which is why redemption would help even out the numbers and keep Hell’s population more steady. Azrael and Esther nod along as she speaks, taking in all of the information she presents to them.

“My biggest concern is that so far, we’ve only redeemed one person, and we had to watch him die for that to happen. Does that mean every sinner has to die and just hope they’ll be redeemed?”

“That’s hard to say,” Azrael replies. “Little is known about this, or that redemption was even possible. It shouldn’t be a surprise though. Father always says there is time in one’s life to repent for their ways.”

Charlie nods, happy that someone agrees.

“However,” Azrael continues, “it’s hard to say exactly in the afterlife. There’s a reason I never realized what was going on. I am fine tuned to the lives of living souls, and it is my job to guide them towards their afterlife, whether that be Heaven or Hell. Once they pass either gate, my connection to that soul is lost. They are not meant to die again in their afterlife. They are meant to remain where they are, whether that be punishment in Hell for their sins, or reward for their good behavior in Heaven.”

“But we can change that! We can give sinners a chance to repent in their afterlife,” Charlie replies. Azrael nods, but his face grows a bit more serious.

”I will be honest with you, dear child. This is new territory for all of us. We have yet to see if the souls of the dead can receive a retrial that does not require a second death. But if those from Heaven can fall,” Azrael says, his eyes shifting briefly to Lucifer beside Charlie, “then I have no doubt those from Hell should be able to ascend. I ask that you remain patient as we all navigate through this new discovery.”

Charlie nods along and Azrael smiles brightly at her. He stands, patting down his clothes to remove any wrinkles and offers his hand to Charlie.

”Now! I would love to hear more of your plans to entice sinners to the idea of redemption and a tour of this lovely establishment of yours! Let’s go, I believe your father needs a break from my presence and I would love to hear more about you without his glare on my head,” Azrael announces, already walking towards the elevator with Charlie who’d taken his hand. Vaggie follows after them, confused and a bit entertained by the man’s behavior.

“Now hold on a minute,” Lucifer begins to say, before he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks over his shoulder at Esther who is smiling at him, and nearly forgets his worries. “Esther, I don’t know how I feel about this.”

”Do you believe I’d bring anyone here that would harm your daughter?” She asks in return. Lucifer pouts a bit but shakes his head. “He’s been very excited about this trip to meet her. The other Seven have wanted to visit as well but Azrael convinced them not to overwhelm you.”

“I think I would prefer Ramiel. Or Raphael. Or Uriel- Or, really anyone but Michael,” Lucifer replies. “Ramiel definitely would be preferred though.”

“Funny you should say that. Uriel and Cassiel send their regards, by the way. They say they love and miss you, and that they will be sure to judge you themselves should I choose to forgive you.” Esther laughs when Lucifer throws his head back and groans. “Ramiel managed to convince them not to, though Michael… Well you know how Michael is. He is hopeful, though he has his concerns.”

“Michael can shove his concerns up his own ass,” Lucifer mumbles to himself, though he smiles finally when Esther laughs a bit at his words. She moves her hand down his arm until it stops around his forearm just below his elbow. He instinctively curls his arm and moves his other to hold her hand on his arm.

“How about you give me your own tour?” She asks him, changing the subject. “I didn’t get to see the hotel last time I was here.”

Lucifer nods and guides her through the hotel for his own tour while his daughter shows his brother around. He’s still wary of it all, but he knows Esther is right. She wouldn’t bring anyone that would hurt them, and Azrael is the least likely, besides Raphael who’s dedicated his life to saving lives, to ever start a fight. Had it been Michael, Lucifer isn’t sure if he could’ve been stopped from attacking him on the spot. He at least has much fonder memories of Azrael.

He guides Esther through the hotel, showing off some of the different rooms such as the parlor, kitchen, or the more recreational areas he added himself simply because he could upon the hotel’s reconstruction. He puffs his chest in pride as she looks on, impressed by the hotel’s amenities.

He vaguely motions towards Alastor’s radio tower, not keen on taking her there, and she doesn’t question his reasoning, thankfully. She seemed to have caught onto his distaste.

Instead, towards the end of their tour, he leads her towards his own workshop. Not his room, he knows she won’t appreciate that level of forwardness, but he knows his new growing collection of rubber ducks will amuse her.

It’s not something he’d typically show off to anyone, and he’s sure under normal circumstances this isn’t something you’d show to someone you were interested in dating, but Esther wasn’t just anyone. This was something so much more than dating.

Part of him wondered, after Hell’s creation, if maybe they were meant to be separated. If humans were allowed to choose their partner, why couldn’t he? It had bugged him for so long. Part of it was what led to Charlie’s creation if he was being honest. But then he’d think of Esther, of her beauty and kindness, of the warmth he felt just when her eyes were on him, and he thought being bound to someone like her was the greatest gift his father ever gave him. He doesn’t regret Charlie, not in the slightest, even if he wishes Charlie’s mother could’ve been Esther, but sometimes he thinks his greatest punishment wasn’t his fall, it was the loss of his other half.

He’d give up everything if it meant another chance with her.

He leads her into his workshop, grinning proudly at the wonder in his eyes at the sight of all his rubber ducks.

She moves further into the room as she lets go of his arm, rushing towards the ducks in the rooms and grabbing at a few.

“Lucifer, what is all of this?” she asks as she chuckles, holding a rubber duck in her hands to inspect its design.

“My rubber duck collection,” he says, laughing to himself as he picks one up. “This isn’t even half of it.”

“Where are the rest?”

“In my manor,” he responds. He sits at his desk and watches her inspect another duck. “I think I made at least one a day for years.”

”That… doesn’t sound very healthy,” Esther says, lowering the duck in her hand and approaching him.

”No, I don’t think it was,” he responded, a melancholic smile on his face. “But they were something that comforted me when I felt like everything else was falling apart. Lilith left, can’t say it was without warning. She was getting tired of my moping and there was really nothing either of us could do about it. The friendship was already falling apart after Charlie’s birth. We tried to get along, we’re still friends, I think, but she didn’t want my hatred for Hell to affect Charlie. Charlie and I weren’t always close because of it. And for a long time, I felt more alone than ever. So I started making these to take my mind off things, and it helped.”

Esther is silent as she kneels in front of him, a hand on his knee in comfort.

She looks at him with those beautiful dark blue eyes, hair falling into them, and he reaches out to move her hand behind her ear.

”Why ducks?” She asks, voice just above a whisper.

”They reminded me of you,” he replies, pressing his forehead against hers. “They were something we created together. I used to create these beautiful projections of them for Charlie when she was a little girl and she loved them. They felt like a little piece of you here with me.”

Esther’s hand that isn’t on his knee moves to his hair, moving through the short hairs on the back of his neck.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I’ll admit I wanted to sometimes. I thought maybe it’d hurt less if I just erased the memory of you, but then I’d think of your smile and everything hurt a little less. I’d think of the times we spent together, of how blissful everything felt with you by my side, and I couldn’t forget you. And then Charlie was born and I wanted her to have a piece of that happiness.”

He closes his eyes as his hands comb through her hair, enjoying the feeling of her’s in his own.

”You truly are something special, Lucifer Morningstar,” Esther says to him. He chuckles lightly and lifts his head to place a kiss on her forehead.

“Only because of you, Esther Eveningstar,” he replies, lips still pressed against her skin.

He never wants to be apart from her again.

————————————————————————

Apologies for any typos. My sleep schedule this week has been lacking to say the least.

Another character introduced! Learning about Azrael was fun for this. When I read he was from the “third heaven” I panicked a bit because it didn’t seem to fit with Dante’s spheres of paradise, but then I remembered that he and Lucifer(Samael) are angels of death, so having them all from the same sphere felt fitting! I was originally going to have Ramiel be the first to visit, as the Virtue of Kindness, but decided on Azrael instead because I thought Patience would be the best for Lucifer to be reintroduced to.

Anyways, at this point I feel like I can’t post a chapter unless I include a drawing at the end. This time I I decided I wanted to draw an idea for Lucifer’s look when he was still the Virtue of Humility. The Story of Hell shows him in a robe and still with his hat. I’ve seen people say his eyes were blue before his fall, but as his name means “the shining one” I feel like gold is more fitting. I also headcanon that his halo didn’t take the shape of a snake until after his fall, with the apple being added because of his actions, and as he took on a more demonic form, his appearance shifted as well. His eyes shifted to red, and when in his demonic form, his irises shift back to gold, but now with red sclera.

I’m not entirely happy with this drawing but, I didn’t want to hold off on posting the chapter so here it is!

Taglist: @dreamcatcher62 @art3misa635 @cimadreamer

[dduane]

hi ms duane (who is rlly cool and i love your books btw),

any advice? one of my favourite book series (released 30 years ago) was never finished... it's rumoured the last book was written but never published . ever since i have discovered this i have been heartbroken 😔. how do i cope with the cliffhanger? is it okay to approach the author and ask him about it? (he has written other books since + has other social medias) what do i dooooooo?

Well—per the second-to-last question, and speaking as someone who started one novel series more than forty years ago, and still haven't finished its last main-sequence book (and hears about it more than occasionally from the readership)—my immediate reaction would be:

From where I'm sitting, no, it's not really okay. So don't.

To clarify the thinking behind this, a couple of questions need to be answered.

(1) How sure are you about whether the rumor accurately reflects reality?

(2) Is the author someone you'd care about possibly hurting?

(And #2 is more important than #1, but bear with me.)

First of all: rumors are, well, rumors. I wouldn't approach an author about something like this if a rumor was all there was to go on. In particular, if the author's ever been asked about this and declined to answer, there may be legal complications in the background that they can't or don't want to deal with in public.

Secondly: if the book does indeed exist but was never published, three decades back, then there are numerous reasons that could be behind it, and all of them are painful to consider. A couple that immediately occur to me are:

The publisher decided they didn't like the last book enough to take the risk of publishing it (or sales figures for preceding books had been poor or declining), and/or no other publisher wanted the final book because they couldn't also publish the front end of the series. (I.e., the original publisher refused to revert those books' publcation rights.)

The author decided for some reason after completing the book that they didn't like it (and/or the series preceding it), and pulled it.

And there are many other possibilities... but I'm not going to get into a long list of maybes here. The point is that there's a better-than-even chance that having someone turn up on social media or in their inbox with a question about Oh Sweet Gods Not This Again, will cause the author pain.

And the issue of whether (for whatever reason) some people might think the author deserves the pain is completely beside the point. Hamlet's got it right here: "Use every man after his desert, and who shall 'scape whipping? Use them after your own honor and dignity—the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty."

So if I was standing where you are, after thinking about it a bit, I'd say "...yeah, no." ...and let the author be.

Now as for the question "How do I cope with the cliffhanger?": well, you pull on your Thoughtful Reader Pants—pull them right up high— and remind yourself that:

(a) Powerful though all art can be, it also can be fragile, especially as regards completions... because entropy, and sometimes mortality, can get in the way.

(b) And while we're discussing mortality: Cliffhangers are an inescapable part of the human condition. One day, you and I and everyone we know will suddenly depart this scene, and leave everyone else who knows us wondering what would have happened if... and never finding out. Maybe this is why we have a certain amount of trouble with cliffhangers in literature, on TV and in other arts: because "art is supposed to reflect life" (...long pause...) "But not like that!"

(c) In the meantime: Read the author's books that you do have. Celebrate what that person's made in that particular universe that you've got access to. And know that, in the fullness of time, eventually your heart will mend, and be stronger after the break as a result.

And finally: never give up hope. That author, and that book, might surprise you some day, when you most need it. :)

HTH!

[linskywords]

Hiii Matthew switch anon here again (loving how it keeps evolving omg it makes my day when other anons come up). Kinda wish sometimes that dom/sub and a/b/o could mesh because I love mcmattdrai with switch Matthew but I would also love if that included scenting and scent blockers and suppressants. Just think of the possibilities like the DRAMA it could cause. The MAYHAM. Like:

Matthew uses a scent blocker. His dad has always made him. “keep your mind on hockey and not those dumb dynamics” (notably Brady’s dynamic was never dumb and he doesn’t use suppressants).

Matthew drives Leon crazy and he doesn’t know why. Sends him into a fury on the ice. Connor and Leon are bonded or going to bond, took them a while to get there but theyre so stupid for each other… but the scents just still a little… off. Not wrong. Like somethings… missing. But they’re it for each other and they know it. Must be nature fucking up.

During an all star game off the ice, maybe after in the club, halfway to drunk, M gets close to C and L and…. Shit they smell good. SO good. and immediately, Matthew feels it snap into place. That’s his dom, and his sub, and he sways forward without thinking, he doesn’t have to, that’s where he belongs… and Leon turns towards him- With a snarl and annoyance on his face. He steps in front of Connor, guarding him. And it hits Matthew- they cant smell him, and even if he could… they HATE him. They wouldn’t even want him if they knew.

Leon snaps “what do you want”. Matthew, the light fading from his eyes “nothing. Sorry.” He walks away, his chest already starting to hurt. His entire body screaming at him to turn around, go back. But he doesn’t. Hockey comes first, it would never work anyway. Even if they did want him, which they don’t. Won’t. This was always going to be the case for him. It’s better they’ll never smell him, never know.

Years go by. One day, Matthew scent blockers/suppressants start fail. He’s been on them too long. he walks past Leon and Leon… Leon swings around because that’s IT, that’s what’s missing that’s the scent they’ve been looking for, and he looks and… of course fucking Tkachuk’s in the way right now… but there’s no one behind him.

And Leon understands in that moment, locking eyes with Matthew… that Matthew knows. He HAS known. And Matthew… he panics. He knew there would be disgust on Leon’s face, but he never needed to actually see it. It’s the one thing he just can’t take. His dynamic brain can’t take, his dom rejecting him.

His scent spikes with distress, with loneliness, with heartbreak. He runs. He drops.

And Leon… what would he dooooooo 👀👀👀

OH MY GOD.

Okay, first of all, YES to the idea of dom/sub with scenting and bonding. (It's funny, my guess is that this is circling back to something closer to how a/b/o probably started, with an exaggerated alpha/omega dynamic that has a lot of d/s overtones. But then a/b/o has a lot of markers of gender, and you want to complicate that by not having a dominant personality always end up as the alpha and so on. So a/b/o becomes a lot more variable, and then it gets recombined with d/s here to bring back some of that binary it's so satisfying to play with. I don't know if the actual history of a/b/o reflects that, but that's my guess.)

And also all the yes to this plot idea, omg. Anon you have GONE OFF. I mean, I think you should probably write this entire fic, but in my mind here's what happens next:

Connor's the one who finds Matthew. Matthew ran away fast enough that Leon lost track of him, and his scent blockers are failing but not enough for tracking purposes, so Leon is frantic, trying to find him. Leon runs up to Connor: "We have to find Matthew. He's our bondmate."

Connor, beyond confused: "Our what??"

Leon: "I...I don't know, I just..."

Connor: "...okay, okay, we can worry about that later. Let's find him."

So Connor goes and looks for him, not really sure what Leon's going on about -- did something happen between Leon and Matthew that Connor doesn't know about? Connor hopes not -- and then when he finally does find Matthew, Matthew's obviously in subdrop, which is extra weird because Connor thought he was a dom. But now that Connor thinks about it he doesn't remember ever smelling Matthew's scent at all. He can smell him faintly now, and he doesn't smell quite like a sub, but it's hard to tell because mostly all he can smell is distress.

Now, Connor's not a dom, but he knows how to deal with a person in subdrop. He gets down on his knees and wraps his arms around Matthew and stops him from gnawing on his hand and starts whispering soothing things to him. Once Matthew calms down a little, Connor gets out his phone and calls Leon and gets him to come join them. Leon shows up, wild-eyed, and Matthew's scent just -- spikes through the roof, alarm and longing and despair all tangling together and making even Connor dizzy. But Leon just gets down right next to them and wraps his arms around them both.

Matthew stiffens a little, at first. And then he goes absolutely boneless against Leon. He had started to relax against Connor before Leon got there, but that was nothing to this: this is like he set down a burden of a thousand pounds he'd been holding for years and years and now suddenly he can collapse. He's nosing into Leon's neck and whimpering. Leon has his hand around the back of Matthew's neck, fingers brushing his scent glands, and he's saying things to him in the low and steady voice that Connor's heard so many times in his own scenes with Leon. "You're okay now. We're here. We're not going to let you go."

Connor's not too sure about this at first. Seeing Leon with his hand around someone else's neck, talking to him like that -- but Matthew's scent is changing. It's blossoming, it's growing warm and full, not faint at all anymore, and suddenly it's the best thing Connor's ever smelled. He wants to keep inhaling and never stop. He wants to bury his own nose in Matthew's neck and get it straight from the source. And so he does, gets his face in there right next to Leon's fingers and breathes deep, and he feels something settle in him. Something that he never wanted to admit was unsettled in his relationship with Leon, because he loves Leon, their relationship is great, it would have broken Connor's heart to even consider the idea that they might not be the right fit together. But now Leon's scent is fanning out over both of them, layering with Matthew's, and this is it. This is what Connor wanted without ever having any idea. This is how the three of them fit together: perfectly.

[padfootastic]

exam szn is coming up which obviously means ore distractions, as everyone knows. so what better than to come back to tumblr lol so many tag games etc piling up that i wanna dooooooo

so. let’s have a lil snippet time!

thanks for the tag @in-flvx 💜 this one’s from a wip that was supposed to have been finished & posted for jilypad week but,,,,here we are,,,,,

“Sirius!” Lily exclaims. “We were looking for you.”

“Oh?” He presses a quick kiss to her cheek before bending down to pick Harry up, who immediately cuddles into his arms with a tired sigh. Poor baby, must’ve been exhausted by all the excitement at the beach.

“Yeah, regarding tonight—“ Sirius gulped quietly at the way she said that “—Your room is a bit…messy, I’m sorry. We were reorganising and well, y’know how it goes…”

She shrugs apologetically but all Sirius can think about is how she called it ‘his room’. Not the guest room, not the spare, but his room. Sirius’. He once again pushes past the mushy feelings that rise in him at that little distinction.

“Oh, it’s—it’s fine, I can just take the couch, no problem.” Even if his feet tend to hang off the end, and the edges are a bit lumpy, it’s fine. He resolutely doesn’t think about his comfortable Alaskan King at home.

“Of course you can’t!” Lily scowls at him. “We’re not gonna put you in a couch in your own house, Sirius.”

There it was again, the reference to him belonging here. It was a bit presumptuous, slightly possessive but Sirius was a dog at heart, he was never going to turn down ownership.

“Er—the nursery, then?” he asks, confused.

“What, crammed up in Harry’s crib beside him?” she says with a scoff, “Don’t be silly.”

Sirius blinks. “Where am I sleeping then?”

“With us, of course.” He jumps at the voice booming from behind him, clutching Harry tighter to his chest, whirling around to find James munching on a carrot.

“Where did you come from?” Sirius mutters under his breath before straightening up and saying, louder, “And what do you mean with you?”

“Well, like Lily said,” and here he sends a meaningful, entirely undecipherable, look towards his wife who…blushes? “Your room’s temporarily indisposed, the couch isn’t even an option—don’t give me that look, you barely fit on the thing—and the floor is gonna mess up your back worse than it is.”

“Oi!”

“So, our room it is.”

Right. Of course. Because that’s the obvious conclusions. How could he say no?

(Again, he can’t so he doesn’t)

It’s twenty minutes later, after Harry’s been put to bed, thoroughly kissed by his parents and godfather, after James is done with his nighttime turmeric milk and Lily’s put her hair up into braids and Sirius has taken out all his rings and chains and bracelets—that’s when he’s stumped by yet another problem.

How, exactly, are they going to sleep in one bed?

“We’re just going to expand it a little, Pads, don’t worry,” James says, supremely unconcerned.

He goggles at that, staring at the casual wand work. A part of him wonders why this is the extent of magic they’re using to solve this problem—James can conjure a bed Silenced, with his eyes closed—but promptly decides to not dwell on that for everyone’s sake.

[giggly-squiggily]

FRIEND! Could you imagine a four way tickle fight between Bachira, Kunigami, Isagi, and Chigiri?! Like a free for all! Like imagine the absolute chaos and humor. Team Z is highly amused because like who wouldn’t? The biggest menaces on the team going at it and not only are they the biggest menaces, but some of the most ticklish on the team as well. Like their amused, but know better than to intervene because faster than you could say “Blue Lock” they will get attacked by four mischievous and tickly pups.

The PUPS! Ugh, I can't get enough of them! They are so fun to write! I had to make this into a fic- I HAD TOO! It's been too long since these four had a full blown tickle fight (well-maybe not that long for them but for me writing it? It's been a hot minute) I've gotcha covered, friend!

CW: Swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist): @myreygn

It was late into the evening when war began.

“AH! Bachira!” Isagi, who was halfway into his sweatshirt, spasmed at the feeling of fingers prodding his side. “Can you at least WAIT until I’m decent?”

“Huh?” Bachira looked at him curiously, tilting his head. “But I didn’t do anything.”

“I literally just felt you poke my side.” Isagi turned to glare, crossing his arms protectively over his torso. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not, Isagirin!” Bachira hopped up, bouncing over with playful eyes. “If I poked your whittle ribs, it’s go like this! Poke, poke poke!” He sang as he jabbed Isagi multiple times in said spot, making the taller boy squeak and back up. “See? I’ve got a whole system!”

“Oohohkay, okay- so maybe it wasn’t you. But who..” Isagi turned to look around him, trying to find the culprit. Most of Team Z were either at dinner, showering or doing some sort of cool down post workout. Alongside them, Kunigami, Chigiri, Raichi and Gagamaru remained.

“Are you sure it wasn’t you? I think I’d know if someone el-eheheheehehahhaha!” Isagi squeaked, breaking into giggles once more when Bachira poked him again. “Stahhaap! Sthahhhap!” He caught his hands, glaring some. “Lemme find the culprit first!”

“Oo, so you’re saying I can tickle you after we find them?” Bachira’s eyes sparkled, grinning all teeth when Isagi blushed. “We better find them soon then!”

“Right…” Isagi turned back to the room, his eyes falling on Kunigami. He was closest, and seemed to be struggling to breathe. Upon further inspection, Isagi could see him fighting down a smile, puffing with laughter.

“You son of a- Come here!” Isagi charged, tackling the ginger from the side. At least- that was the plan, had Kunigami not been built like a mountain. The most he did was slightly nudge him. “Why are you poking me?”

“W-What? I’m not!” Kunigami blinked, his smile growing at Isagi’s glare. “I swear to god, I’m just sitting here!”

“Why are you laughing then, KuniKun?” Bachira rolled up fingers already poking towards the back of Kunigami’s ribs, making the hero arch with a ‘tch’. “What’s funny?”

“Yeah, tell us Kunigami!” Isagi was quick to join, worming a finger behind Kunigami’s armpit and watching the bigger boy start to crumble. “Why are you so smiley?”

“Ah! Ahehehe-D-Don’t! Pfft- I was juhuhuhst thihihinking about eahhhaherlier!” He snorted out, trying not to squirm too much. Every poke and tickle from these two was making it harder to do so. “I dihihihidn’t do ihiihiht!” 

“Uh-huh. Likely story. What’s your alibi?” Isagi questioned, going full tickle mode now as he dug his whole hand under Kunigami’s arm, making the bigger boy yelp and cackle. “Tell us!”

“Gonna tickle you until you dooooooo~” Bachira cooed, reaching around to get his belly. Kunigami was torn between doubling over and arching away, his laugh booming across the room like one of his mighty kicks. “He’s so ticklish!”

“Nohohoohoohoho! I diihihihihiihidn’t I swehhahahahhahhahar!” Kunigami cried, cheeks pink and eyes squeezed shut. Figuring he wasn’t getting out of this anytime soon, he jumped into action, grabbing Isagi and yanking him into his lap. “Bahahahhachira, geheheheht him!”

“No! No, Bahhahahachira, sahhahhhahahve mehehhhehehe!” Isagi cried as the hero’s fingers dug into his ribs, making him spasm and sink. “Hhhehehehehhelp!”

“Hmmm….” Bachira did neither. Instead, he looked across the way to a rather quiet Chigiri. The redhead was seemingly asleep, eyes closed and head tipped forward as he breathed deeply. The problem was that however- his breathing was far too intentional.

Scooting closer, he positioned himself before the other, leaning in so they were nose to nose. “ChiChi~”

Chigiri cracked an eye open then screamed, falling backwards.

 “For fuck’s sake, Bachira!” He yelped, scrambling to recover. Bachira cackled and leaped, quickly going for his belly and sides. “Gehahahahhaaha! Nohohohoho! Nohohohooho fahahhahahhair!”

“Oo, ChiChi said a bad word! Chichi said a bad word!” Bachira cooed, laughing along with him. “Was it you, missy? Did you tickle Isagi and cause all this mischief?”

“Whahhahaht are you tahahhhaalking about? Of cohohohohourse nohoohohohooht! Ahehahhahhahaa- Bahahahchirahahhahhaha!” He squeaked, covering his face with his hands as he tried elbowing the other boy’s hands away. “Sthahahhahap thahhahhahhaht!”

“Hahhahahhang on, Chihiiihihigirihiihihihihi!” Isagi yelped, suddenly determined to save the other. Reaching out, he gave Kunigami’s thigh a squeeze, making the Hero shout and flail. With a burst of energy, he charged and tackled Bachira, taking him down into the nearest futon and going in on his back. “Tahahke this, you little shit!”

“Geahhahahhahhahha! Ishahahhhahahagiihihihihihihi!” Bachira howled, shoving at the other’s shoulders as he squirmed and thrashed beneath him. “Whhehhehhehehehe hahahhahve to gehehehehhehhehet Chihihihihihiihihhii!”

“Already do.” Kunigami called, easily grabbing Chigiri’s foot before he could escape. “Come here, Princess.”

“Hero, I swear to god I will break your nose-” Chigiri squeaked when he got pulled over, any remains of his threat lost as he squealed. “Nohohohohooho! Nohohohoohot the knehehehehehehehehees!”

“What? Huh? I couldn’t understand- say that again?” Kunigami teased, putting a hand to his ear as he carried on squeezing Chigiri’s knee. “Keep tickling your knees? Okay!”

“Trahhahahhhhhaitohohohooohor!”

“You love me.”

“Iihihihihiihihishahahahahgiiihihihihiihi!”

“Yeah?” Isagi grinned, delighted in how red Bachira was. “Wanna fess up?”

Bachira nodded, gasping for air as Isagi slowed down. “SIIHIHKE!” He cried then, quickly flipping the tables and sending them tumbling into Kunigami and Chigiri. Before long it was a free for all- tickles flying to whomever was unfortunate to get grabbed.

“God, they’re like a pack of newborn puppies.” Raichi rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the four idiots playing.

“Yeah.” Gagamaru nodded. They shared a look, grinning then.

“We’re terrible.”

“So bad.”

“Think they’ll realize it was us?”

“Nah, they’ll be too tired to figure it out.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” Gagamaru rolled into his futon, getting comfortable. “What happens if they do? Figure it out I mean?”

Raichi thought about it with a hum. “Blame Kuon?”

“Blame Kuon.” Gagamaru grinned, shaking Raichi’s offered hand.

Thanks for reading!

[onlyjaeyun]

I think my head is going to explode.

He asked if she was ok.

Lowkey that is huge.

(AND SHE FREAKING KNOWS ITS HUGE. SHE TOTALLY KNOWS.)

And it’s bothering him that she’s not ok. He hasn’t lost interest he’s freaking worried. That’s why he hasn’t been back. But she doesn’t know that. Omg.

What is he going to dooooooo? (Because this Hoon is delicious. He is a man of ACTION always. Nothing simmers in him too long before it comes out one way or another. That’s why he touched her in the first place. That’s why he beat up Jaemin. That’s why he said something to Fuma. His feelings really do drive him and honestly I love it.) Is he just gonna show up? Kidnap her and force her to go get her nails done? My money is on randomly showing up…Like Riki’s at his house for some whatever thing so Hoon just goes down and starts banging on her door and she answers wearing his shirt (because the forgetting him is NOT going well)…

I don’t want to pin all my hopes and dreams on this but like… I’m really rooting for him to do something healing here. I mean maybe he’s not there yet but MAYBE HE IS or maybe he is so high key desperate for her body (at least that’s the excuse he’ll tell himself) that he’s willing to take care of her a little to get what he’s craving.

GAH! I don’t know. I have no idea where you’re going next but MAN am I desperate to get there. Like there is no denying he’s bothered by her pain. It’s there. He’s angry about it—but it’s full there on his angsty little tumblr. Her pain truly upsets him—but forreal that is nothing new (just ask Jaemin).

I know you’re cooking up some way to bring them back together. (And I’m obviously dying to know what it is) I figured (because I feel like you’ve hinted at it?)—though I could be totally wrong—but I figured that they would start to fall for each other again even before they realized that their initial fallout was due to a misunderstanding and maybe I’m delulu but I’m wondering if this particular moment is going to be the start of that like…manifesting? Because I mean I know the hate is there, but there’s also something else—something deeper and it’s so clear and I just love how hard both of them are trying to pretend that something doesn’t exist.

But you can only fight being someone’s soulmate or whatever for so long ya know…

see what i mean? how is this not the most beautiful commentsry on a piece of work youve ever seen?? I LOVE WRITERS SO SO SO MUCH 🥺 thank you for this baby, i really hope you know how much i appreciate your asks, they really make my day :(

i love how you commented I KNEW IT on the last chap bc i knew you'd say smth and i got so gigglybfkenfoemfl ngl i wasn't gonna make him beat them up just warn and scare them a little but this ask and your thoughts inspired me to do more bc it fits his character so well so thank you so much angel 🥺💗

i don't wanna spoil too much but your thoughts and assumptions about his feelings for her changing is definitely quite close to what i have in mind and i love how similar our brains work 🤭🤭 can't wait for your resction when you read the next chapter bc our baby's been a little unsure about herself and well, hoon's the one who might give her a hand or two to desl with those bad thoughts..all im gonna mentionnis a mirror!🤕

[iguessitsjustme]

Cosmetic Playlover Ep 5 & 6 Thoughts

It seems I have just hit some pain and I would rather not have pain but I will watch. I will suffer. I will enjoy. Under the cut:

Oooohhh Sahashi backstory. Good shit. Can’t wait to learn more about this former model.

Why are people yelling on the street? I want to waaaaatch. Shut uuuuup.

Ah yes. Definitely very real Paris. Yes.

Oh noooo not the time for the dinner being the same as when Sahashi returns! Oh dear oh no whatever will you dooooooo~

HE CALLED HIM TOMA!!!!!!

HULLO??????? See boys. What proper communication can get you?

Awww episode 5 ended happily. What is about to happen? Who knows! Episode 6 here I come

They are really speedrunning this relationship. Y’all just properly communicated for the first time 12 hours ago and now you’re moving in together? I support your bad decisions. I’m an enabler and I’m enjoying watching you two a whole lot. 

This was the first time I skipped the opening song. I just want to keep watching my boyssss.

I love this clumsy rookie man so much. He’s so earnest. What a sweetie.

Every time a BL couple cuddles, an angel gets its wings

Now WHO is this spooky man? He’s gonna cause problems but I’m digging his vibes.

Well well well if it isn’t some dbag with sunglasses and a pretty face here to fuck things up. I’m into it though. Give me more problems! That’s really something I only ever say about Japanese BL. I like the way the problems are handled.

But now I’m torn. Because it’s late, I’m old (I’m not), and I’m tired. But there are only two episodes left. Do I wait until morning oooorrrrrr do I perhaps try to finish it all today? Decisions decisions.

[1eos]

RE: social justice praxis online, it's crazy how you can get hate for saying "Yeah, well, I don't care what identity this person has, that shit they did was still horrible even years ago, that's why I tell people who would care about interacting with someone who "was" like that" and get hit with the "You won't let people grow and change 😡" like no, they can change whatever they want, I don't want to interact with them tho, and I want to warn others who might feel the same about this person who used to be harmful or whatever. It's such a joke too, there's this post going around (made by a black person too we are never getting out of the self hatred) about how "we should forgive trans women for having been into hateful and bigoted spaces before they changed, why are we being mean to the most marginalized members of the community?" And its like, seeing that after the whole "white trans women on here shielding themselves with their transness from black trans people calling them out on their racism because they kept arguing that race place is inherently trans" fiasco is like, ummmm idk I think I just don't like white people who were bigots in their youth 🙂 who cares if they are trans or not, they still did that shit. Also, so funny because I looked into the person who made that post before blocking and they literally used to be one of the most hated ppl on the internet because of the bigoted bullshit they had going on back then, they just rebranded, including pretending to be Asian 🫠 and their partner is apparently just as gross, like no wonder you are trying to say calling out people for their 'old' transgressions is mean 🥺 you have a whole closet full of allegations too LMAO

👨🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲 not you devouring like that oop! no but literallyyyyyy 😭 and its probably mean of me but when ppl kinda push back at the idea that even if you apologize you're not owed trust and ppl are right to still be wary about you i just assume they've done something LMAO? like without fail whenever i see someone thats like 'the internet won't let ppl grow' i just know in the next 5 years their skeletons are gonna come tumbling out. its just so stupid like no im not gonna give my undivided attention to wipe the asses of white ppl who had to acquire a facet of marginalization to be like 'ohhhh maybe i shouldnt be uber levels racist and kick it down to normal levels of gay people racist' bc a lot of these ppl who 'were' in in hateful bigoted spaces still are in hateful bigoted spaces its just that the spaces now have pride flags attached 😭😭😭😭 like you're still racist even if you get off to calling something a n****r idk what to tell you. and ppl will really argue you down that all discussions on racism center around the ppl who still have crazy unchecked biases hence the way they mass block black ppl that don't agree with them. im soooo over it esp bc i feel like it shows how...........childish people are? surface level? unintelligent? one level of marginalization doesn't negate bigoted views. you can be mariginalized and be a bigot like literally one of the biggest villains in black history is clarence thomas and he's LITERALLY black. and also just bc you can't trust someone who used to be running w bigots doesn't mean you want them dead. i don't care what anyone says if u tell me you used to run with nazis im literally never gonna fuck with you 😭 and im not gonna let ppl be transphobic or homophobic towards you but i am nawtttttttttttt gone be in community like that i dooooooo not care

[i-am-confusion-03]

So Horizon is probably the first fandom I've ever been involved in where I have to actually WAIT for new content to release. Normally I just like get into a show later in its release where all episodes or games are available

So here's my question...

WHAT DO I SO WHILE I WAIT

THERES NO MORE CONTENT. IVE DONE IT ALL. BUT IM NOT READY TO MOVE ON FROM IT YET WHAT DO I DOOOOOOO