#i have yet to read a book that wouldn’t fit somewhere here

[hana-loves-bumblebees]

The more finnish literature I read the more convinced I am that all of it could fit into two cathegories:

Absolute trauma (likely linked to sex one way or another) that will grab your eyeballs and will not let go until you’ve read it (stuff by Johanna Sinisalo, Katja Kettu, Sofi Oksanen, Mika Waltari, Laulu tulipunaisesta kukasta) or silly blorbos going on feel-good adventures (stuff by Arto Paasilinna, Tatu & Patu, Moomins, Seitsemän veljestä (at least a third of the way in)) and then there’s stuff smack in the middle (Kalevala).

[dabratzchronicles]

Funny How Time Flies (When You're Having Fun)

Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond

You as Yourself

Summary: After your convo with Terry, you went to the library to get back into your lost-out hobby.

A/N: This isn't very long but it is something! cute and adorebleness is something I've been NEEDINGGGGGGGGG, so I made it. Enjoy my babies and who knows? may get a double upload.(also i recommend this book! definitely a good fuckin read.)

Warnings: Nothing, playful banter and cuteness.

Chapter Two:

You hopped off the bus, stepping on soggy leaves and damp pavement. Today was the day you went to the library! You haven’t been here since you were little and they renovated the entire building, bringing a classy yet homey style you admired.

You walked inside and fell in love with the interior. The library side was slim to dim, and the children’s learning center was bright! It was filled with computers, books, and a few splashes of color, but not too much color to the point that it didn't make sense. 

Approaching the desk, you asked for a library card. The process was fast and easy, choosing the library mural design for your card, the black family happily looking into the book they were reading, you prayed silently that you would have a family like that. 

You thanked the kind lady and grabbed your newly-issued library card, trying to contain your excitement but failed miserably to do so. 

The library was filled with so many books, books and books and books! And you didn’t know where the fuck to start at, it was soooo many of em, Did you want to go to a thriller? Did you want a good mystery book? Did you want to read a beautiful romcom? Many Possibilities, Many Outcomes, again.

You wandered around the library until you found a lonesome computer behind one of the adult fiction aisles. You messed with the thing until you were able to search, but for what? You didn’t know a book off the dome you wanted to read, let alone search for! 

A thought infiltrated your mind, prepping your fingers to type ‘White Smoke’ into the machine, it was in stock! only one but you had to go get it before someone got it. 

You exited from the search, returning the screen to how you found it before making a bead line to the Teen Fiction aisle. 

Rounding the corner, you made it to the section and slowly examined everything. With as many books as it had and the mind that you have? You wouldn’t leave with the book you were supposed to leave with. 

Your eyes hunted for the damn book, nibbling at your bottom lip as all the book titles became a blur, it's like a white man giving his daughter his card, it never goes well. After almost what felt like an eternity, you found it! There was only one left in stock, your hand flying out to grab it like it was Black Friday.

You looked a little to the right to see a new book from the same author, your interest was piqued as you grabbed the foreign book. It was titled, ‘The Weight Of Blood’, The name alone was a good eye-grabber, you gave props where props were due. With the books clutched in your arms, you scouted around for a resting area, somewhere cozy and dim.

You finally found a corner to read in, your feet going autopilot as you looked down at the book to read the blurb on the back, sensing Carrie vibes, just fuming off of the book, the more you read the more you it intrigued you– Oof!

Books cracked open on the floor, the sweet-smelling brolic figure you just bumped into let out a tiny laugh as you were down on the ground trying to achieve the fallen collection of books that scattered across the floor, apologizes flew out like playing cards trying to get the precious books off the all walked over the floor.

Separating the books you didn’t have in one arm and the ones you did in the other, you looked up to see who you bumped into and it was… Terry? The man almost looked unrecognizable in casual clothing, well you wouldn’t say causal, more like, different-from-first-time-seeing-him causal, his navy blue polo sweater fitted loosely on him, his black jeans sitting on his waistline, it was refreshing to not see someone sag their pants, and to top the fit, gold jewelry with his Los Angeles dodgers low dunks. “Terry!” a high-pitched calling of his name filled the silence for a little bit, stares and shushing filled it quickly after.

He snickered, looking around at the annoyed daggers of stares at the two of you. “Are you oookay?!” he whispered softly, lowering his head and then his body. 

You gave him a little smile with all thirty two gleaming, “I’m Fine!” 

“Good, now hurry off this floor before they kick us out for lewdful activities.” he said with his hand slowly extending towards you, his ear to ear smile returning when he saw your face at his snarky comment.

“You are so naughty Mr. Richmond!” you giggled like a school girl, accepting his hand up. 

His hands were soft, almost as soft as fabric softener makes clothes, his vibe was gentle and serenely warm, your head shook on its own in efforts to shake away feelings, but it didn't help.

You stood straight till your knees bent almost out of place. You fixed your glasses and dusted off places covered with dirt, geez and you’d think they would clean these floors now and again. 

Terry studied you, to your hair that could only be described as a lion mane, but you kept it tame with your hood. To your outfit, which you kept casual. Your dark blue jeans hugging your lower body perfectly, your freshly washed Tokyo Ghoul hoodie kept you warm and comfortable, but when it got too hot you wished you put on a fuckin shirt underneath. 

His hand flew to the chairs, signaling you to lead the way as if he didn’t know where he could have moved his long legs. You corrected your face from the reaction you wanted to give in your head. “After you.” 

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, holding her books as you waltzed to the seating area. You felt funny walking in front of him. Not because he could possibly be staring at your ass, but because you felt comfortable in his presence, like he just gave off natural protector energy, a lion protecting his lioness, you felt pretty and safe. 

You chose the olive green armchair near the window, sitting in knee first, leaning towards the window. 

You cracked open the book and man, it brought back your love for reading, the character's introduction sucking you further into the book. A light-skinned finger slowly creeping into your view spooked you into the armchair. “Jesus, Terrance.” 

“I’ve been pspspsps-ing you like a stray cat!” Terry whispered his shout, looking at the book that so desperately caught your attention. “That’s not white smoke…” 

“I know,” You said, looking at the book cover with satisfaction. “This is another book by the same author. I don't know, just caught my eye.” 

He looked at with a pleased face, his bottom lip turned outwards as his eyes traveled across your side, your face sculpted by confusion and scareness. “Is there something on me?” 

“No.” He smiled, setting his book on the side between you two, scooting his chair next to yours, your hands flew out to replace what would have been your screams. 

He sat down in the now moved seat and crossed his legs, his hands reaching for your book with his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. 

Something unspoken was spoken between you two, his eyes rolled jokingly as he leaned towards you. “This is fine as long as we put it back where it belongs.” 

“How the fuck does your whispers sound like your speaking regularly?!” 

“Simple, My tongue is silver.” 

Oh, how you wish it was on you. 

You shook your head blinking back other unwanted thoughts. Your hand flew to the book, flipping the skinny pages to where you left off at, catching him up to where you got stopped at, which wasn’t far. 

“So she was passing as a white girl until that one day at her track meeting?” 

“Yes,” You answered, starting you up on one of your blabs.

It's funny how time flies when you’re having fun, as the great Janet Jackson said. You sat in the same spot for some hours—how many? You don't know. 

It’s been nice reading with someone, thoughts after each chapter, the passion of reading each sentence like it were lines to a script, the sudden moments to go with every other sentence, this was the best impromptu book club you could’ve ever joined. 

“5 Minutes till closing.” An Employee said, waving her hand to politely exit the area.

You looked outside to see the sunset. Closing the book to set it on top of the other book. Damn, you forgot you even checked that book out. 

“So,” His voice took you out of your thoughts. “Mind if I walk you to your car?” 

“Er…” 

Car. A fuckin Car. You don’t have one! You got two black Cadillacs that gets you places and singles to give to the money eater on those buses. You internally croaked over as you silently spoke the words: 

“I don’t have a car.”

“What?” His head tilted toward you to hear you better but you jerked yours back. 

“I don’t have a car! Teehee. I caught the bus.” You admitted to him, his face not changing at all. “Oh.” He said, “That’s all?”

“Yes that’s all!” you felt offended, it took a lot to admit you didn’t own a vehicle and all you get is a ‘That’s all’!?! The nerve! “It ain't easy to admit that you asshole.” You playfully hit his shoulder, giggling at how he faked how bad it stung. 

“I can take you, It’s not that big of a deal.” I want to fuck you so it is.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to have you doing anything extra-”

He shushed with his finger on your lips, dragging his index finger down and flicked your bottom lip. “Imma stop you right there. You ain’t prolonging shit, nor are you stopping me from doing something that I want to do. Plus I’m not letting another man scoop you up like that! That’s my job.” 

“Boy if you don’t move yo finger off my mouth,” You attempted to bite his finger away but he was quick to withdraw it. “I will take you up on your offer, but if you do that Disney Channel shit on me again I will lick you.” 

“You can lick me anytime you please,” he teased, his smile grew fatter seeing your eyes react to his statement. “Cmon lil lady,” He stuck out his free elbow while the other one had your books and his, “Times ticking and it's getting cold out.” 

Your eyes rolled involuntarily as you linked arms with Terry, walking together to the exit.

Want More? Subscribe For More!

You Got Mail!: @megamindsecretlair @thecapodomme @harmshake @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kimuzostar @yaachtynoboat711 @miyuhpapayuh @nayaxwrites @planetblaque @darqchilddaydreamz @henneseyhoe @slippinninque @theereina @violetmuses

[starlightwayfinder]

Do you have any headcanons about Ven you'd like to talk about?

Always!! Okay first, here’s the fluffy ones:

He gives good hugs. Really good ones. The kind you can just melt into! He brings a sunshiny warmth with him wherever he goes, both metaphorically and literally.

You could make him laugh with the cheesiest jokes ever. It wouldn’t be hard at all.

He can’t actually talk to birds/animals ‘Disney princess’ style, but they will let him get unusually close, or will approach him without fear. Terra and Aqua were baffled at first, but now they’re used to it and forget that other people will find it weird.

He’s got a decent book collection in his room. It’s mostly a mix of Keyblade history, astronomy, and fairytales. He and Aqua will sit together and have tea while they read.

He can and will fall asleep anywhere. Again, Terra and Aqua are just used to it by now.

He likes watching the sunrise almost as much as he likes stargazing.

He spars with Terra the most, and always gets upset that he’s holding back. Terra, however, is just trying not to send him flying by accident.

If he and Terra do roughhouse, (they are ‘brothers’ after all..) it’s very playful and all in good fun. Aqua just sighs and makes some comment about the friendship between boys. 

Unsurprisingly, Ven likes to feel the wind in his hair—which most of the time means going fast on his Keyblade glider. He would also love roller coasters, surfing, etc. 

He also loves flying and will go back to Neverland every now and then for more pixie dust.

He’s a fast runner and does pretty well in races on Destiny Islands, but he’s not a super competitive person, so he doesn’t care too much about winning.

He helps Kairi get into a training routine when she moves in. He becomes a bit of a mentor, but more in the sense of a fellow student/friend who already knows the ropes.

He has a cd player in his room for listening to his favorite songs. The others try to show him how to play music on his Gummiphone, but he doesn’t use it for much beyond taking pictures and the occasional phone call. He’d probably be a little shy about calls because it’s so unusual to him.

Since he was asleep for 10 years, he doesn’t know any of the new slang and has slightly outdated tastes, haha.

His favorite season is Spring, but he doesn’t dislike any of the seasons. You can bet that when the weather warms up, he’ll be outside enjoying the sun and looking for dandelions.

He enjoys all types of weather too—except for bad storms, which he’s always disliked.

He got a little bed for Chirithy that goes unused because they always fall asleep in his arms. 

And here’s the deeper ones:

Ven is overall a sensitive guy, which means he can’t stomach most violent or disturbing movies/games/etc. The problem with this is that he can’t stand being treated like a little kid either. I imagine he would be the sort to agree to watch something out of peer pressure… then be unable to fall asleep at night thinking about it. Finally Terra or Aqua has to step in and say “you don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable to fit in”. 

That sort of thing is frustrating for him in general. Thanks to everything that’s happened to his heart and mind, he technically *is* kind of younger—yet, it’s also just his personality and who he is. It’s not necessarily due to a lack of maturity. 

That being said, I think he’d be really good with kids—and I know I’ve said it before somewhere, but he would make a great camp counselor or something. Can’t you imagine him leading activities or songs with a group of kids?

He’s more shy in UX because he’s surrounded by older Keyblade wielders and used to being rejected by them (since he doesn’t bring much to the table in terms of physical strength or magical ability.) In BbS, he’s more outgoing because he’s been living with the same people for years and it’s all exciting and new. He’s always been an introvert, but he still loves making friends… It just doesn’t come quite as naturally to him as it does to Sora, and Ven’s more likely to think he did something wrong if someone dislikes him. 

In other words, he’s the sort of guy who would go to a party and end up sitting on the floor to pet the dog the whole time.

If someone does hurt his feelings, however, he’s quick to forgive them and try to restore the relationship.

Thanks to Ven being a more sensitive person, he’s very comforting and compassionate: a trustworthy friend to talk to when you’re feeling down. He’s especially nonjudgmental and a good listener. I imagine most of the guardians’ first impression of him is either ‘quiet and unassuming’ or writing him off as silly / immature. Typically, only Terra and Aqua see that deeper side of his personality—but if the opportunity arises, he gets a chance to shine.

Since he’s pure of heart, he really can’t wrap his head around *why* people would use the darkness/be cruel to others intentionally. It doesn’t click in his mind at all. He’s not ‘innocent’ in the sense of being *ignorant* to that sort of thing, but rather just never feeling the urge to act that way. Does that make sense?

He’s a genuinely good, sincere guy. I love him 💖

[screamintoad]

Silanche kid-Alaric Vanrouge

I liked both vers so take em. RSA pride and Diasomnia pride

“I was hoping to attend NRC like my sister but…maybe I fit in better here.”

Voice claim: TBA

Character info

  Alaric is a quiet and sometimes timid young man. He prefers his own company unless he’s around people he likes. Sometimes others will find him curled up somewhere taking short naps in between longer classes. Sometimes the third year students will poke fun at him because they know his sister went to NRC but he always brushes them off, until they find a snapping plant in their dorm rooms a few hours later. Despite that though he’s a straight A student, he’s quiet but he’s learned a lot from growing up in Briar Valley and around the royal family. He actually talks a lot to his roommate, especially about books they’ve read or are reading. 

  His household is quite large since it’s him, his older sister, his parents, grandpa, and great grandmother all living together. Not including the animals. But, he wouldn’t have it any other way. His mom told him about when it was just her and her grandma living together with their old dog and he’s always thought about how lonely they both must have been. At home in Briar Valley he’ll be all over town, from helping at his mama’s bakery, to his granny’s flower shop, to hanging out at the castle when Silver is on duty. 

Fun facts: Aroace icon. Certified mama’s boy. He doesn’t want to become a knight but he would be around his sister when she was training so he learned some things that way. Blanche and Granny Primrose made sure to teach him all about plants and botany, y’know, just in case. When he visits home, him and Fleur have a tradition of going on a trail ride past a waterfall that they’ve dubbed the “Fire Fall” because at sunrise the water appears golden-orange, then they’ll race back home and the winner chooses their next activity. 

Basic info

Age: 16

Height: 173cm/5’6 during first year, 185cm/6’ at graduation 

B-day: February 2nd (Aquarius) 

Dominant hand: left

Family: Blanche and Silver (Mama and Dad), Fleur (sister), Lilia (grandpa “old man” for funnies), Granny Primrose (great grandma “granny”)

Nickname: Lil bat (by family), Ricky (by friends)

1st year

Class B

Club: Horseback riding club

Best subject: Botany

Hobbies: Gardening, reading, baking

Pet peeve: People who can’t mind their business

Favorite food: His mama’s cooking

Least favorite food: His grandpa’s cooking

Talent: Tending to plants

Character dynamics

Fleur: Thick as thieves, they’re inseparable when either of them comes home. Even as kids he would always follow her around. If he’s busy with something then she’ll be the one to find him and hang out until he’s finished. 

Jane: Opposites into best friends. He doesn’t encourage her late night visits but he always hints that it’s okay. 

Luna Howl: If he has bite marks they’re from her. Somehow she always drags him into her and Jane’s shenanigans, yet he never complains. 

Joey Howl: Big bro. But seriously they’re close as well, he helped push him into confessing to Fleur. 

Mika Bucchi: Roommateee. They spent the first week at RSA in complete silence, until Alaric saw him reading one of his favorite books and got so excited he asked about his thoughts on it. Ever since then they’ve talked to each other a lot more. He still forgets to warm him when Jane visits. 

HOWL SIBS BELONG TO @blood-red-bumblebee AND MIKA BELONGS TO @twtysevapr

anddd extra tags: @gimmeurmoneyagh @babyghoul138 @bunniehunn @angelwishess @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @justm3di0cr3 @midnightmah07 @beneathsakurashade @4necdote

@theolivetree123 TELL ME IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED OR NOT

[lulublack90]

Prompt 28 - Library

@jegulus-microfic August 28, Word count 681

Previous part First Wolfstar part

The Potter family library was an absolute mess by the time they were done with it. The five of them had dragged book after book off the shelves searching for any mention of the Gaunts. Remus found that they’d once owned Salazar’s Locket, but it had been sold by Merope in London. 

“Probably to Borgin and Burkes,” Regulus mused aloud. They’d have paid a good price for it. 

“Then there was Slytherin’s actual wand,” Marcus said in awe, reading from one of the wand maker’s books for some reason. “It says here that Gormlaith Gaunt had it but his niece Isolt Sayre stole it and, wow, she and her husband founded Ilvermorny! It says she was buried with the wand and a snakewood tree grew over her grave and apparently the leaves have magical properties. Well, that’s the wand gone as well then,” Marcus shrugged and shut the book. 

“They also had a ring,” James added, reading from the thin book in his hand. “It is said to be a gold ring with a black stone inset and rumoured to carry the Peverell coat of arms. Pretty sure I’m related to the Peverell’s as well, you know,” James frowned. “As far as anyone knows, it never left the family, so Morfin might still have it,” Sirius shook his head. 

“They wouldn’t have let him keep anything like that in Azkaban. More likely it was given to his next of kin, if he even still had it by then.”

“His next of kin being Tom Riddle,” Regulus said after Sirius had finished talking. 

“Have we found where the residence is yet?” Remus asked. “It would probably be a good starting place.” 

“Erm, hang on, I swear I saw something earlier,” Sirius said, throwing scrolls over his shoulder and tossing books onto other tables. “Ah-ha, here it is. It’s just outside somewhere called Little Hangleton.”

“Then that’s where we’re going next,” Regulus declared, gathering all the different texts together and putting them in his pocket. 

“How are you doing that?” James asked, as Regulus stuffed a heavy tome into his pocket that shouldn't have been able to fit. 

“Undetectable expansion charm mixed with a weightlessness charm. I thought it might come in useful,” Regulus shrugged. 

“Brilliant,” James smiled at him warmly. Regulus felt a hot blush spread across his cheeks at the praise from his boyfriend. His ears began to burn at the thought of being James's boyfriend. 

“Master Regulus, will you's be wanting your bunny slippers for your trip?” Flitsy said from the doorway, holding up the squashy pink slippers. 

“Hey, I gave those to you James,” Remus grumbled as Regulus dashed forward to take them from the elf, glowering at her the entire time. His face bright red now, he put them in his pocket so she’d stop using them against him. 

“Ahahahahahaha,” Sirius barked out a laugh at the slippers. “Of all the things for you to wear,” He snorted at Regulus. 

“Master Sirius, will you's be wanting your lucky underwear?” Flitsy piped up again, holding up a pair of bright orange briefs with CC written on them in big white overlapping letters. 

“Hey!” Sirius squawked as he pelted across the library to snatch them from her hands. “Traitor,” He told the elf. 

“Nuisance,” Flitsy spat back, sticking her tongue out. 

“Love you,” Sirius grinned at her. 

“Love you's too, Master Sirius,” Flitsy rolled her eyes at him and stuck out her cheek for a kiss which Sirius more than happily gave her. “Master James, do you's know when you’s becoming back again?” She asked, arching a brow. 

“Definitely in six days, it’s the full moon. But I’m not sure if we’ll be back before then or not. Sorry Flitsy, I’ll try and send word if we’re coming,” He tried to placate the elf. 

“See that you's do's, Master James,” And she slammed the door on them. This time Regulus definitely heard her cackle. 

“Shall we go find this Gaunt place then?” Sirius asked the group. Remus pulled out a map and found Little Hangleton, and they prepared to leave.

Next part

[nalyra-dreaming]

hi there! :-)

i’ve been seeing a lot online lately about louis hallucinating lestat’s presence while he and claudia are in europe. i’m reading the series at the moment (just finished qotd) and i don’t recall anything in the books about it? i was just wondering if i missed something somewhere 😊😊

Hey!

.... Maybe?^^

It's in "IWTV", during Louis' and Claudia's travels through Eastern Europe:

"And in despair the recurring fear that we had killed the only other vampire like us, Lestat. Yet it seemed unthinkable. Had he possessed the wisdom of a sorcerer, the powers of a witch...I might have come to understand that he had somehow managed to wrest a conscious life from the same forces that governed these monsters. But he was only Lestat, as I’ve described him to you: devoid of mystery, finally, his limits as familiar to me in those months in eastern Europe as his charms. I wanted to forget him, and yet it seemed I thought of him always. It was as if the empty nights were made for thinking of him. And sometimes I found myself so vividly aware of him it was as if he had only just left the room and the ring of his voice were still there. And somehow there was a disturbing comfort in that, and, despite myself, I’d envision his face—not as it had been the last night in the re, but on other nights, that last evening he spent with us at home, his hand playing idly with the keys of the spinet, his head tilted to one side. A sickness rose in me more wretched than anguish when I saw what my dreams were doing. I wanted him alive! In the dark nights of eastern Europe, Lestat was the only vampire I’d found."

Louis thinks of Lestat often through the second half of the book, just a few examples here:

"Flee to that, I thought, flee all that is pulling you. And again came that thought: I have wronged Lestat, I have hated him for all the wrong reasons. I whispered it now, trying to withdraw it from the dark, inarticulate pool of my mind, and the whispering made a scratching sound in the stone vault of the stairs."

----

"How would Lestat have found it? Had he been here? What had caused him to leave?"

----

"And I could remember the night Lestat first came to me, how his eyes seemed to burn, how his white face gleamed."

----

"And yet through this sadness, this confusion, came the clear realization: Why should it be otherwise? What had I expected? What right had I to be so bitterly disappointed in Lestat that I would let him die! Because he wouldn’t show me what I must find in myself?"

---- "I allowed myself to forget how totally I had fallen in love with Lestat’s iridescent eyes, that I’d sold my soul for a many-colored and luminescent thing, thinking that a highly reflective surface conveyed the power to walk on water. “What would Christ need have done to make me follow Him like Matthew or Peter? Dress well, to begin with. And have a luxurious head of pampered yellow hair."

----

These are all pre trial. :) (There's more, where he recalls his voice, for example.)

The show heavily builds on that, and the later evident yearning, as well as the religious imagery that permeates the books.

The show as a visual medium of course makes some things only hinted at in the book literal.

But I still think it fits very well to give us the frame of mind Louis tells of in the book.

[adashoflavendermelancholy]

Not Realizing they're Injured

Usopp understood that the events of Water 7 shouldn’t be repeated. It wasn’t his best moment in time. If he was honest, it was one of the things he regretted the most. Only one other time topping it. At least he was there for Robin at the end of it all.

Training for two years to get stronger. He replayed all the things they had been through. All the times that Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji took the stage and throwing them to the side. Instead, looking at the times that Nami did. She was just as weak as he was. You might even argue in someways that she was weaker than him. Yet, she stood tall in the face of danger. Put her entire island on her shoulders, and kept moving forward. Sure, she was mostly just trying to save her hometown, but the rest of the island would benefit from it. A place to run from Arlong and his men. Somewhere where mothers wouldn’t have to choose between living and keeping their children alive. No matter how much shit she had to crawl through. Nami was strong and brave. Unlike him.

Which is why when he fought, he tried thinking about what Nami would do. Would she run right now? Or would she look around and spot something to use to her advantage? That mind set helped him grow into a better fighter. Become a better person, too.

That’s why he didn’t let it stop him when he was thrown. It hurt, and he was going to have a bruise at best. But his friends still needed him. Usopp had to keep moving for them. So that none of them would be alone when facing the worst time of their life. Not again.

“Usopp?” Nami called, running over to him. He smiled at her with a thumbs up. It hurt, and he was going to complain about it later. Now wasn’t the time for that, though. He had a job to do, and he was not going to let them down.

Running around, he felt shaky. Figuring that he was hit over the head enough times to down an elephant, he kept moving. It wasn’t like this would be the end of it. The battle was still going and there was plenty to be done around here. Everyone was working hard to take their place next to Luffy.

When the fight was over, he slouched against the wall. His legs giving out as he slid to the floor. Chopper was the first to notice, if only because he was checking on all their friends. “Usopp?” Chopper asked, looking him over.

“You’re covered in blood.” Zoro said, his own way of asking if he was alright.

“It’s not my blood.” Usopp muttered, trying to sound tough. Everything hurt though, and he was going to be bedridden for at least a month. Already planning on telling Luffy that they were not going anywhere until then. Choppers hooves touching and moving him about. Checking on the bruises and broken whatever’s.

There was a small gasp. “You were stabbed?” Chopper asked, making everyone turn to look at him. Usopp, for his part, paled at the thought he was stabbed. Before passing out.

When he woke up, Chopper actually had him on bed rest for a while. Zoro laughed, telling him he had finally joined the club. Then I got stabbed, or sliced club. Most of the crew was now in this club, with only a few exceptions. He wasn’t sure if this was the best thing to happen to him or the worst. On one hand, he was now in a club he never wanted to be part of. On the other, he was on the best rest, not having to deal with after a fight with Luffy.

For one of the first times, Usopp had to deal with the boredom that was bed rest. Usually, he was able to bounce back easily enough. Being stabbed wasn’t the same as being hit, apparently. Chopper was more protective of him now. Making it hard to stay in bed. He read a lot of books to get more ideas about the next improvement of his weapons. Thought of one for Nami’s too. But none of that mattered, as he couldn’t get out of bed.

Until after Chopper went to sleep, that is. Then it was free rein of the ship. No one said anything about him still being awake. Letting him wander around and work as he saw fit. Franky even telling him about how some of the mechanics of his body works. Giving Usopp a better idea for his weapons. Training using Zoro’s old weights was also something he began doing. Seeing that he was losing some of the muscle he gained in the two years. No matter how much his side hurt or how Usopp had to redo the bandages, he still had to work.

The work out started simple enough. Just lifting the old weight was enough to make Usopp bleep through the bandages. Well, she still bled through them, but now he could lift and do a few sets with them. Before needing to put them down again. It was all so he wouldn’t let them down again. Being one of the weakest on the crew was fine with a crew of monsters. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t get stronger. The only real issue Usopp had was the bandages. Chopper’s a doctor who has experience bandaging people. Usopp was a sniper with no medical knowledge at all. Trying to do his own bandages like Chopper was a learning experience. One that Chopper caught onto the first time he did.

“Why are your bandages a mess?” Chopper asked, glaring at him. He was trying not to blame Usopp but on a crew with others that don’t follow his professional advice, leaves you not trusting their messes.

Usopp smiled, “Ah, I had to go to the bathroom in the night and figured I should change them. I don’t think I did too bad of a job.”

“You could wake me up next time.”

“No, no. It’s not that hard. Plus, all I’m doing is sleeping.” Usopp said, hoping that this lie would work. It wasn’t the best one, but he really thought he did a good job with them. Thinking that Chopper wouldn’t notice the change at all.

Chopper didn’t know how to feel about that. Usopp was supposed to be sleeping and not moving around. Something told him that there was more to this. “Okay,” Chopper muttered.

Usopp kept up his tasks of working while Chopper slept. It was working out for the most part. Chopper had to check on his wounds every now and there. Only to find it was taking longer for it to heal. With no reason for that to be the case. He started trying to catch Usopp doing something he shouldn’t be. No matter when Chopper got up, the other was laying in bed going over designs, reading, or just sleeping. At this rate, Usopp was going to have a nasty scar, and he didn’t seem to mind that.

[f1nalgirlz]

Omg can you do wjere like they hate each other yk and they're arguing and they end up making out and stuff? (Preferably with Euro but anyone you pick is good)

Yesss I love this in fics/books everytime i read itttt. I’m so excited to write this!!

DISCLAIMER: This is literally only about Rory’s portrayal of Euronymous.

Less aggressive disclaimer: this was not proofread! In the future I’ll go back and fix anything but yeahh..

˗ˏˋwarnings´ˎ˗ fighting, enemies to lovers (kinda), nsfw, swearing, public sex, aggressive sex

˗ˏˋcontents´ˎ˗ fem reader, nsfw, dom Euro, creampie, oral sex/blowjob (m receiving)

It had already been a long fucking day to say the least and it was still morning. The start had been rough on you, spilling a coffee on yourself, having to turn around and go all the way home to change. You’d had to change into a different shirt, leaving on the skirt and fishnets you’d had on before. Catching a ride proved difficult, so you had to walk to work, your bike & car alike both out of commission in one way or the other. By the time you finally made it to work, you were late. You absolutely dreaded days you were even a minute late to work, but a whole two hours late? You knew your boss would have a fit. You hated your boss as it was and you knew very well the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t place why he hadn’t fired you yet, his hatred of you was so blatant and the only reason you hadn’t quit is because you really needed this job.

As you finally made it to the doors of the record shop you worked at, a breath left your lips. You entered, face a little sweaty from the part walk part jog you took to get here. Your hair stuck to your face. As the bell on the door rang with your movements, your boss looked up at you from behind the counter. He was just reading a magazine, typical. His long black hair looked messy. “Two hours. New record.” He said sourly, causing you to roll your eyes. When you made it to the desk, you tossed your bag down behind it. “Y’know I’m not even gonna bother explaining why I’m late because I know you don’t care the trouble I’ve been through.” You said with a huff, walking off to start unpacking the new record shipments. “No, I obviously don’t give a fuck what ‘troubles’ you went through to get to work, but I’m your boss you owe me an explanation about why you can never fucking be here on time.” He said, a mocking tone crossing his voice when he repeated your words. You basically felt your skin burn as anger washed over you, you basically stomped to the side of the counter he was sat behind. Usually his bad attitude wouldn’t have set you off like this, but you were fed up with his treatment of you. “Shit happened, okay? At this point I don’t even care, you’re such a dick all the time just fire me! I’ll find a job somewhere else you’re so insufferable!” You yelled at him, extremely close to him now, causing him to narrow his eyes at you. You instantly regretted your words, it was just heat of the moment, you new you needed this job. “I didn’t mean that- I-” you started but faltered due to nerves. You were fully expecting to be fired on the spot, but you were utterly shocked when you felt a rough hand on the back of your head.

Euro was gripping your hair aggressively, pulling you to close the space between you two. His chapped lips moved harshly against yours and you couldn’t help but kiss him back. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t shake how much you were enjoying this, it made your brain swarm with a million thoughts. Your hands found their way around his neck, shoving yourself closer to him. The feeling of his body against your own made your mind go numb, any thoughts from before dissipating. As he pulled away from your, now red, lips a string of saliva connected the two of you. You barely had time to meet his gaze before he dove into your neck, kissing at first but quickly it turned to biting. You felt embarrassed at the wetness that seeped into your panties in response to how rough he was with you, the embarrassment extended to the way you moaned for him as he marked your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he slipped from his seat and pushed your back against the counter, finally looking at you. Your lips parted, you wanted to say something but what? You couldn’t even think of what to say. As you scanned his body, you noticed a bulge in his jeans, it seemed he was just as turned on as you were. “You wanna keep your job?” He asked, weirdly nonchalant. All you could do was nod as you felt his hand on the top of your head, pushing you down to your knees. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, watching as he undid his heavy belt. As his pants were undone and his underwear were pushed down, his cock sprang from them. You didn’t miss a beat, licking a strip from the base to tip. Your hands made their way to his thighs as you took his tip into your mouth, taking him in further until you felt the head on the back of your throat. Tears pricked your eyes as you bobbed your head, moving one hand to pump him occasionally. The uncomfortable feeling of your fishnets digging into your knees was long forgotten as you continued. Moans and curses from the man above you just encouraged you to keep going, tears from gagging making your eye makeup smudge and your own drool covering your chin making you feel dirty. The thought of what was going on right now made your cunt get even wetter.

Soon you felt a sharp pain in the back of your head, your mouth being pulled off his dick with a pop. Euro had pulled you off, as he began dragging you to stand up by your hair. He used his thumb to wipe your chin before turning you around, he shoved you down, bending you over the counter. Your cheeks burned as your hands clutched the edge of the counter. Your eyes drifted to the ‘open’ sign on the door as you felt him aggressively ripping open your fishnets. Embarrassment once again crept into you, yet the thought of someone walking by, or walking in, and seeing you taking your boss’s cock made your cunt drip. When Euro felt he’d sufficiently ruined your tights, he pulled your black panties to the side, using his knee to spread your legs more. “You’re such a slut you know that?” He whispered into your ear, sounding as grouchy as usual. Before you could get out a reply, a surprised moan slipped from your lips. He’d slammed his entire cock into you, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. You choked on another moan as he fucked you roughly, his hands holding onto your hips so tight you thought you’d have bruises by the end. In a way you were disappointed in yourself for sinking low enough to do this with the man you hate, but on the other hand, he was fucking you so well you couldn’t be bothered to care about your feelings about him. He groaned into your ear, sounds of your wet pussy and his hips hammering into you filled the store. It felt so good, your brain went numb, not being able to speak, just letting out moans as your eyes watered. You saw a few people walking by the tall glass walls of the store, had you been in the right mind, you would’ve felt absolutely humiliated, but at the moment you couldn’t feel anything except the pleasure your boss was giving you. As you felt one of his hands leaving your hip, you soon felt it rubbing tight circles on your clit. Completely giving in, you let your eyes roll back a series of lustful moans leaving your mouth as your hands gripped at the counter top. “You’re such a whore for me, taking my cock so greedily.” he groaned out. You couldn’t even form any words, it was like he’d fucked you completely dumb. Your body was on fire as you felt a familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach, soon a loud choked moan ripped through the air. Your body shook as your orgasm washed over you, Euro was quick to follow, not even bothering to pull out as he came deep inside your pulsating hole. When he pulled out, you couldn’t even stand up, leaning on the counter for support. Your body felt like it was throbbing, as you were coming down from your high the bell on the door was ringing, signaling that someone had just walked in, your heart sank. When you looked up and saw Faust looking at you with a somewhat awestruck expression, you wanted to sink to the floor and hide. Euro laughing pulled you out if your thoughts, as you turned your head and watched him finishing up bucking his belt.

This is so humiliating.

I hope you enjoyed! Sorry it’s a little all over the place I will go back and fix it later!! I’m also super sorry this took so long for me to get around to >~< tbh this is kinda ass but I’m willing to own up to being lazy & sick 🫡

[sublimegentlemanalpaca]

Midnight Burger on the Nameless Isles

So like…What if Midnight Burger ended up on the Nameless Isle where Tamerlane House is? Like…Midnight Burger characters interacting with the Caretaker Emeritus. Caspar and Poe bonding over both being sad old men. Gloria and the Badgers swapping recipes.

Jack and Charles and everyone being absolutely amazed with Zebulon and Effie’s radio. Getting into an argument with…Twain maybe? Ava and Archimedes arguing over science things. Caspar getting into an argument with at least one of the Prophecy Scowler trio.

Wait! Kepler is there…..Lief and Kepler could discuss the city on the moon. Hm…need to relisten to all of Midnight Burger see who else among the Caretaker’s Emeritus has been dropped.Oh! Depending on when MB arrives would be interesting if Ava got into an argument with all the Sci Fi authors. Especially Bradbury given the Butterfly effect bit in the first episode Lief and co introducing Rose to a Monte Cristo Sandwich. Hm…Better yet, Introduce Dumas Pere to it. Huh….how old is the Monte Cristo as a Sandwich? Could this be a reverse of Shakespeare inspiring the Pyramids? Poe of course asking the Midnight Burger gang about Pistachios. Caretakers, and also Houdini and Doyle trying to puzzle out how the hell the Dinner Works. Some comparison to the Midnight Abbey/House on the Borderland. At least one of the Midnight Burger Gang has to have read Charles’ stuff. I’m thinking���Ava cause it wouldn’t be in character, but it would be funny. Oh! Ransom has probably been to Midnight Burger before, and they’ve likely served a Charles at some point. Verne at some point in the past (CotIG Verne I mean) ending up there.

Probably a fair amount of flirting. A decent amount. At least with Shakespeare, Wilde, and Byron out and about.

Leif somehow getting his hands on an Anabasis Machine. Or getting Watches for everybody. Hm…wonder if Adepts like Rose or Edmund with his Chronography could…mess with or help the Dinner at all…hmm

Ah wait…possible the Master of Tamerlane House and co would offer food. Feast Beasts providing an excellent spread. WAIT! The dinner ended up inside a mall…It could easily fit somewhere inside Tamerlane House itself…although…given the relative sentience of each building…maybe the Dinner would initially land within Tamerlane House then get…shunted just outside it…or maybe into the Boat House. Or one of the other islands. The one with the Nightmare Abbey/House on the Borderland? Or the one where the backup Hotel D’Auliers is? Hm…what if it ended up in the Basement with the Redbull…and who knows how many people who got Cask of Amontilladod…Amontilladoed?

Laura Glue and Gloria hanging out would be cool.

Oh! What havoc could Zebulon and Effie wreak in Tamerlane House! What if they get stuck in DaVinci’s Treadmill! Will this make sense to anyone but me? Probably not. Do go read the Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica (first book Here there be Dragons) and listen the Podcast Midnight Burger.

Make of this What you Will.

Al, the Chronographing Cottager and Prince of Naming. A Scowler and a Gentlebeing

[ashpkat]

can we talk about this cover? besides the fact that it’s my favorite cover of the series and gorgeous but also the contents of the cover

first off, WHERE ARE THEY? there’s not a place in the magisterium that looks like this, i suppose you could argue that it’s the elemental prison, but i don’t think it was described like that? and i remember in someone else’s post, don’t remember who, that it looks like european architecture (which. don’t fact check me.) and going with that at the very least this isn’t the magisterium and is somewhere else in the world entirely, does this potentially mean The Bronze Key we got was not the original concept at all?

to add onto this! let’s talk about the knife calls holding. it isn’t miri. i suppose you could attribute the odd design to the fact that none of them are consistent in the covers, but the one thing that throughout books has stayed the same is the design of Semiramis. it gets used several times for chapter headers and ALWAYS looks similar and or exactly the same. and at the very least, if the knife he’s holding was meant to be Semiramis, don’t you think they wouldn’t have curved the blade? kept it straight? here’s my conclusion, the knife he’s holding is The Cosmos Blade. the original title for The Bronze Key.

but.. why? why does the cover not align with the book? this is the ONLY book it happens in.

(with the sort of exception of The Golden Tower, my friend has a theory that it’s aaron on the dragon and not alex and they resorted to just making alex blond in the book but. whatever not the point because there’s not as much evidence)

and the original translated synopsis— which might be fake and i’ve never confirmed as real so take this with a grain of salt— does NOT match up with the book at all. could it be that more than midway through the book they completely scrapped the idea? opting to go with The Bronze Key to fit with the metal theme? could this explain why the cover took so long to come out? there’s more i want to say on this but i cannot find the words for this.

i don’t doubt that through the production of a book ideas will change, but let’s talk about when these changes occur. unlike with small changes like The Copper Gauntlets change from The Copper Mask, this change actually is huge. because in TCG, a mask IS mentioned, constantine’s mask. but in The Bronze Key, not even a passing mention on anything that could remotely be The Cosmos Blade is mentioned. and let’s talk about the under use of european mages, yeah it gets sort of explained why they hate makaris in The Golden Tower with maugris but let’s not forget! maugris was implied to be improvised by the authors.

there are tumblr posts from the authors mentioning the european mages, saying that yes they would get mentioned in the third book or at the very least the fourth one, posts that just BARELY predate The Bronze Key.

this post isn’t me being sour that aaron died in TBK, because let’s be honest here, he was always going to die. nor is this me being sour that calron was never canon, because i could care the fuck less if it was (my main issue with callmara is how underdeveloped it is and how it totally watered down tamara’s character to a love interest like they did with celia. im a callmara fan, but everytime i read it in the books I GAG).

this is me being sour at the AUTHORS for choosing to devote more time to their already established and more popular book series. they had too much on their plate. they chose to opt for a potentially more simple plot for time purposes with each book having less and less pages. they needed better time management skills. they are NYC best sellers and yet, and yet, these final three books are lack luster in quality as their own series thrive and continue to climb in popularity.

so yeah. justice for The Cosmos Blade.

[helaenasdreamfyres]

Character Challenge Hosted by @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood

Challenge: Write a scene between your character and any other character within the RP that not currently written or playable.

💛🌙💛

———————————————————————

Helaena walked around Dragonstone, searching for her eldest son, Jaehaerys. She assumed he was somewhere hiding, probably getting lost in a book or looking up to the sky.

He was a strange child, or at least, that was what others had observed about him. His most notable feature was his twelve fingers, an extra finger on each hand. Something you wouldn’t consider “normal” on a person, more so a Prince. Yet, it was more than just his unusual fingers that caused people to gossip.

He was moody, much like his father. He hated being by lots of people, much like is mother. He preferred to spend his time reading and learning rather than training in the yard. He loved to be outside in nature, and observe every small detail.

When he spoke, his tone was never joyful. He would state things the way they were, never shy around any topic. This would sometimes make the adults around him laugh, and sometimes make the adults scold him.

But Helaena knew he never meant any offense. He was never mean, he was gentle, he was incredibly intelligent for his age. She loved her eldest son more than words could ever express.

The Princess had walked by her sons chambers, then peeking in, noticed there was no one inside. She walked in and looked a bit harder to then find that Jaehaerys was underneath his bed. At first glance, you would never notice him. But upon closer examination, you could see a large book covering his face, and his hands holding the sides.

Helaena crouched down and spoke to him. “My sweetling, why are you hiding under your bed? I’m sure reading on your chair would be a lot easier.” She chucked and bent further to look her son in the eyes.

Jaehaerys set his book on the floor and looked up at Helaena. He was doing his signature pouty face, the one that reminded her so much of Aegon. “I don’t want to do anything today. I’m staying here.” He replied.

“Was the journey here so tiring that you must recover under your bed all day?” Helaena laughed once more. It had only been two days since they had settled into their new home on Dragonstone, the children were still curious about the place. Well, her other two children were, Jaehaerys remained indifferent.

Her son moved himself towards her. “I’ve already read about Dragonstone many times. I don’t want to walk around with brother and sister. I don’t want to explore.” He said.

Helaena reached down and smoothed his hair back. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, my love, but everyone has been wondering where you’ve been. There’s no need to hide.”

“I don’t care. Every new person here will think I’m weird, I don’t want to see them.” Jaehaerys said, in a neutral tone. Helaena’s heart hurt at those words. She had tried hard to keep the horrible things people had said about him away from his ears, yet somehow it had not worked.

Maybe others would have tried to comfort him, tell him it’s not true and such things. But Helaena knew he wasn’t the child who wanted to hear those kind of words. She knew all too well from her own childhood.

People had always said the same things about her; that she was weird, that she needed to be around more people, that she was rude, that she wasn’t fit to be in court. Her family members had tried to comfort her by telling her these weren’t true, but she had known they were lying, which made it even more painful.

So she would not do the same with her own son. “You are quite different from a lot of people, that is true. But that is what makes you even more special, sweetling. If you want to read all day, so be it. If you want to be by yourself, there is nothing wrong with that. But don’t let how others feel about you make you sad. Show them you’re just fine the way you are. You have no need to hide who you are.”

Jaehaerys was silent, listening to her talk. When she finally finished, he slowly slid out from under his bed, wearing less of a pouty face than moments ago.

“May I go in you and father’s chambers? Your windows are bigger than mine, and I want to look outside while I read.” He looked up at Helaena, his light purple eyes staring at her own violet eyes, waiting for a response.

She smiled. “Of course, Jaehaerys, let us take a walk there together!” She grabbed his hand and the two began to walk.

[nik-knight]

Chapter 1: Angel Cat Chapter 2: Tracy’s House Chapter 3: Their First Rain Chapter 4: A Dulled Discovery Chapter 5: Somebody to Hold Chapter 6: A Touch Too Much Chapter 7: The Cracks in Your Frame [WARNING: There are mentions of sexual and domestic abuse in this chapter. (It's more of a near-miss and very little of it is described in detail.) These mentions are written in italicized paragraphs and can be skipped without missing the plot. Please take caution when reading.] It hadn’t taken him long to pack his bags the following morning. He had a few flashy outfits left over from… before, but otherwise, he wasn’t a cat of great fortune. The few possessions he had to his name were just the collar around his neck and a singular red fishy kick toy. His one duffel bag fit everything he owned, and although it was convenient when one always needed to be ready to get up and run, he still wished he had somewhere to put his meager possessions and leave them there, yet Crowley still had nothing close to what he could call home.

He wouldn’t find a home here, either.

Although he was still upset about what he’d heard the previous night, he could not truly be angry. Anathema was a good person. She was smart and confident and even offered Crowley a place to stay during his fostering. He had no right to blame Anathema for his own shortcomings as a housecat. Still, she had been kind to him during his time in Tadfield, and he would not repay her kindness by taking up more of her time and space when he was obviously not wanted here. 

He also did not want her to fret and worry when she would find that Crowley was nowhere to be found while he was under her care. So he placed his duffel bag carefully at the foot of the bed and headed out to tell Anathema that he would spare her the trouble of fostering him any longer. Then he would take the nearest bus back into the city and pray that the shelter hadn’t already given away his room.

He took a deep breath and left the guest bedroom.

And then there was a loud crash and the sound of Anathema shouting from the kitchen.

Ana! 

Crowley was already running to the kitchen. What happened? Was Anathema hurt? Did she burn herself, or– or did something fall on her? He needed to check and make sure she was all right. Crowley rushed into the kitchen’s doorway and saw Anathema pressing herself against the cupboards with her hands braced on the kitchen counter as a little mouse scampered across the kitchen floor. He didn’t hesitate even a moment. 

“I’ve got it!” After finding the source of Anathema’s distress, Crowley leapt forward and grabbed the offending rodent in his hands, holding it tight so that it couldn’t wriggle away. He stood and lifted the little mouse in triumph. 

Anathema breathed a heavy woosh in a relieved sigh.

“Oh, thank god. Thanks, Crowley.” She visibly relaxed when she saw him get up with the mouse in hand. “I was having a stressful enough morning without a mouse running across the tabletop as I was working.” She gestured to the table where she had more of her witch knick-knacks, an open laptop, her phone, and that one big old book she took everywhere with her.

“Oh, um, what’s been stressing you out?” Crowley tentatively asked. Maybe if he could get her to bring up the issue first, he could simply ease her worries with the news that he was leaving instead of awkwardly exiling himself.

Anathema rubbed at her temple and sighed again with the sound of exhaustion. “A lot’s been going on recently between all the prophecies I’ve been trying to decipher and everything that’s been going on with Newt…” She waved her hand at her phone on the table, indicating that she’d been talking with someone.

Newt? Who the hell was Newt?

“Newt? Do you have some sort of other lizard pet that I don’t know about?” He thumbed the top of the captive mouse’s head idly as he spoke.

That at least got a chuckle out of her. “No, Newt is my, er, boyfriend? We haven’t officially given it a name but, yeah, we’re kind of together.” She took this moment to return to her seat at the table. “He’s gone back to university to study computer science, but he’s having a hard time, and he’s pretty much been messaging me every minute of the day.”

With perfect timing, her phone buzzed with yet another text message. Anathema just grunted and flipped her phone over on its screen.

“See what I mean?” She took her glasses off to rub at the bridge of her nose. “I have to tell him that I need a bit of space, just a little bit of a break from all the chaos while I’m working. At least that’s what Eve thought was a good idea.”

Oh.

Was that who Ana and Eve were talking about yesterday? Perhaps it wasn’t Crowley who was upsetting Anathema after all…

But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t also adding stress to her life.

“Sorry, Ana…” Crowley began, keeping his eyes down, glad he still kept his sunglasses on. He felt his ears fold back on his head. “I must not be making it any easier with me being here.” Crowley honestly didn’t expect her to simply give him a smile and a good-natured chuckle, but she did.

“Well, you keeping the houseplants and garden in check for me has certainly made things a little easier. Not to mention having a mouser in the house is a nice perk.” She gestured at the little mouse in Crowley’s hands as an example.

The hope that Crowley had been trying to keep dammed up suddenly burst back into his chest and filled his heart, leaving that terrible empty feeling he held last night behind. He did his best to keep his face from heating up, not used to being praised.

“Er, yeah. ‘S no problem, ya know.” He looked down at the mouse in his hands and quickly found a way to restore his reputation as the not-at-all-good-or-nice cat before things got too mushy. He lifted the mouse up towards his face so he could snarl at it. “That reminds me… I haven’t had any breakfast yet, and it looks like I’ve just caught myself a juicy little morsel.” His threatening must have worked, for the little mouse was now covering its eyes with its tiny paws, and Anathema was making a slightly concerned face.

“Maybe you could get rid of the mouse… outside? I’d rather not have to see that if I’m being honest.”

“Right, right, fine,” He mockedly groused. “As my human wishes. Can’t have her esteemed witchiness bear witness to nature’s most base atrocity.” With this, he did an over-the-top dramatic bow before slipping out of the kitchen and through the door to the back garden. 

Turning back to her work in the kitchen with a heavy eye roll at the cat’s dramatics, Anathema wondered when Crowley had begun to consider her as his human.

***

Crowley shut the back door to the garden behind him and sat down in a patch of grass to think.

So, Anathema didn’t hate him. Or, at least, she probably didn’t hate him. If nothing else, she found him useful in his ability to tend to the garden and keep pests out. That was definitely a good thing. Even if he were a less-than-perfect companion, he could still be useful to her as a gardener and a mouser, and that was good.

Maybe there was still a sliver of hope for him after all. It was a better plan than fleeing, at least. If he couldn’t be a good companion, he might at least be able to earn his keep. It could work if he played his cards right, he could make this work. He just had to—

Squeak!

“Oi!” Crowley glared down at the mouse he was holding in his fist. “I’m trying to think here! What the hell do you want?”

The little brown mouse grappled at Crowley’s hand where he was squeezing the thing a little tighter than what would have been comfortable for it. Crowley quickly eased his grip so that it could breathe again, but then took the mouse in his other hand by grabbing it by its scruff and holding it in front of his face so he could properly growl at it.

“All right, here’s the deal,” he snarled with as much menace as he could muster, making sure his sunglasses slid down his nose just enough so that the mouse could see his slitted yellow eyes. “I’ve got plenty of food inside the cottage that doesn’t require me spitting out bones and fur to eat. So, since I’m feeling generous today, I’m going to let you live as long as you don’t come scampering back into the cottage uninvited. Undersssstood?” He hissed out the last bit, showing off his sharp canines for dramatic effect.

The mouse hanging by its scruff just blinked at him with his beady little eyes, then turned its head to the side, seeming much more interested in something just behind Crowley’s shoulder.

“Oi, pay attention when I’m threatening you! What’s got you so distracted?” Crowley looked over his shoulder and only saw one of the blackberry bushes that was kept in the garden. With autumn in full swing, the blackberries were ripe and ready to pick. Crowley turned back to see the rodent reaching out with a mouse’s equivalent of grabby-hands.

“Really?” Crowley growled. “I decide, with the kindness from my blackened heart, to spare you, and you’re asking to eat from my blackberry bush?” The bush was Anathema’s, not his, but he wasn’t up to explaining to the mouse his current housing predicament.

The mouse replied by pitifully rubbing its tummy with its paws and letting out the tiniest little squeak that sounded a lot like it was saying, “Please?”

This brought out a long deep growl from within Crowley’s throat as he fully bared his teeth. The little mouse covered his eyes with his paws again, not wanting to see its own imminent demise.

Crowley continued to growl until the mouse seemed rightfully terrified. Only after the little bugger started trembling did Crowley finally cave.

“...One.”

The mouse moved one paw from its eye to peek at Crowley in confusion. It gave a curious tiny little squeak in question.

“One,” Crowley repeated in a growl. “You can have just one blackberry. Only one, understand?” Crowley held up one finger with his other hand to affirm the point. The mouse dropped his paws and nodded eagerly at the cat. Its feet kicked about in fervor for its promised blackberry. It squeaked at Crowley, promising he understood the terms.

“Good,” he nodded once firmly, yet still bared his teeth threateningly. “Because if I find more than one single blackberry missing, I swear that I’ll–”

“Are you talking to that cute little mouse, my dear?” Aziraphale’s voice chimed to the left of Crowley, where the angel cat was suddenly standing from behind the garden’s low wooden fence. He was smiling, and his huge fluffy tail was high and swaying behind him, seeming amused.

Crowley just stared at the angel cat’s sudden appearance for a moment, then quickly threw the mouse over his shoulder. There was the very brief sound of a startled squeak whizzing through the air, then silence.

“What mouse.”

The two cats stared at each other (Well, really it was more Crowley staring blankly at Aziraphale, and Aziraphale glancing back and forth between Crowley and the little brown mouse that was currently scarfing down berry after berry in its mouth from the bush it had landed in) in silence for another few moments before Aziraphale eventually cleared his throat and tried to begin another conversation.

“Er, hello, my dear,” Aziraphale began with a kind smile. “Are you having a good morning?”

“Uh-huh,” Crowley replied dumbly, taking in the beautiful scene of the angel cat standing with the morning sun rising behind him in the east. He blinked again, realizing his subpar answer and trying again. “I mean, yeah. Can’t complain. H-how about you, angel? What’re you doing out here on this side of town so early?”

“Oh, yes, well,” Aziraphale stammered, his cheeks turning ever so slightly more pink at the nickname “angel.” Crowley tried not to smile knowing that he was able to fluster the other cat at least a fraction of how he himself was flustered. “Madame has one of her ‘seance’ appointments this morning at the cottage, and I’ve never really fancied sticking around for them. It’s all quite a bit of ruckus, and her patrons usually are confused as to why Madame has a fluffy white cat rather than a spooky black cat that most people would expect to belong to a medium.” It was hardly half a second after he finished speaking that he realized his faux pas. “Oh! Not that black cats are necessarily spooky or frightening, my dear…” The angel cat’s hands began to wring themselves and he began to shuffle about uncomfortably. Crowley couldn’t have an uncomfortable angel, no, not on his watch. 

“Nah, big spooky fan, me,” he said, waving off Aziraphale’s remark, then shrugged. “Besides, technically speaking, I’m not really a black cat.” 

Aziraphale’s head tilted about 30°, the usual angle for a cat trying to aim their ears to take in information easier, and also the perfect angle for making Aziraphale look even more adorable than before. Crowley had to keep himself from wheezing at the sight. 

“You’re not a black cat?” Aziraphale asked, looking befuddled. 

“I mean, I look like I am on the surface, but I’m more of a calico.” He brushed his fingers through his auburn hair to illustrate. “That’s why the hair’s different than the fur, you know?” Next, he reached behind him to gather his tail and held it up a bit. “And even then the fur itself isn’t entirely black, it just seems like it is— whoa!”

Crowley didn’t even have the time to scramble backwards before Aziraphale leapt straight over the fence and landed perfectly on all fours right in front of Crowley, pushing himself towards the startled cat in an effort to get a better look at his tail. The thin tail slipped right out of Crowley’s fingers and whipped around at the sudden startling turn of events, but Aziraphale had no trouble snatching the tail up and delicately handling it so that he could inspect it closer.

“Oh, my dear, you’re right! There’s a little bit of brown and white sprinkled in! How marvelous!” Aziraphale, awed by this new discovery, did not notice Crowley’s brain attempting another hard reboot. The calico simply sat there, dumbfounded, as the angel cat gently petted and marveled at his multi-coloured tail. “A male calico with slit pupils? How incredibly rare! Oh, look at you, you’re just a marvel!” There was now a soft, high-pitched whistling noise coming from Crowley, not unlike a tea kettle. He was sure that if Aziraphale continued praising him like this, he’d never recover.

A few meters away, the backdoor of the cottage swung open. 

“Crowley? I— Oh! Hey, Aziraphale!” Anathema gave a wave to him as she leaned out the door. Aziraphale turned to see her, suddenly dropping Crowley’s tail back in the calico’s lap and sheepishly getting back onto his two feet. 

“Oh, Anathema, hello! Um, sorry to bother, I just wanted to stop by to say hello.” His face was a little flushed after being caught nearly sitting in Crowley’s lap. Luckily this gave Crowley the few extra seconds he needed to get his mind back online. 

“No worries, Aziraphale.” She turned to Crowley who hadn’t even bothered looking away from Aziraphale. “Crowley, I was going to let you know that I’ll be heading into the city for the day to talk to Newt.” She smiled and looked back at Aziraphale. “You two are more than welcome to the cottage while I’m out.”

“Oh, how kind of you, my dear, thank you,” Aziraphale said, his hands now back to wringing and his ears pinned back shyly.

“Muh-huh…” Crowley mumbled, still not entirely back yet.

“All right, then. See you guys later!” Anathema closed the door and left the two cats to their own devices. As soon as Anathema turned and left, Aziraphale crouched down by Crowley and peered at him cautiously.

“I’m so sorry, my dear! I didn’t hurt you when I jumped over here, did I? Did I handle your tail too roughly?”

The rest of Crowley’s scattered brain finally came back to him after seeing the genuine worry on his angel’s face. “No, no, I’m all right, angel! I’m okay, I just didn’t expect it.”

“Then I’m sorry to have frightened you, my dear. You really are a marvel, though. I suppose I just couldn’t help myself.”

Crowley reached up to gently take one of Aziraphale’s hands in his if just to stop them from being wrung raw.    

“How about this? You can marvel at me all you want as long as I get to do the same to you.” He added his devilish smirk to top it off. Seeing his sweet angel blush was more than worth it.

“Well,” Aziraphale huffed primly, though the colour of his cheeks told Crowley that he was quite fond of the idea. “I suppose it’s only fair after all.”

“Yep. Only fair.” With a bit of help from the angel cat, Crowley was up on his feet. “In the meantime, perhaps you’d like to come in, angel? Perhaps for a cup of tea and a squeezy treat?”

Aziraphale’s emerald eyes widened and his face lit up at the mention of a squeezy treat. Crowley also wasn’t sure if the angel’s wiggling hips meant he was excited or that Crowley would be pounced on again. Honestly, Crowley would be happy with either. 

“Oh, that does sound lovely!”

“Then let’s go inside, angel. I’m sure we’ve got some biscuits somewhere as well.”

And Crowley led Aziraphale into the cottage, leaving the autumn chill of the garden behind… along with a very happy, very well-fed mouse whose face and paws were absolutely covered in blackberry juice. 

***

Soon enough the two felines were comfortably tucked away in the living area of Jasmine Cottage. Crowley had meticulously prepared Aziraphale’s tea after asking about his preferences for milk and sugar, then watched rapturously as Aziraphale’s face lit up at the tray of tea, biscuits, and squeezy treats presented to him. Crowley had already enjoyed nearly ten minutes of Aziraphale’s happy supping when Aziraphale finally paused between bites of Jammie Dodgers to give the air a little sniff.

“This room doesn’t smell like you as much as I thought it would. Is this not the room you use as a den?” He peered around the room as if trying to decipher which of the materials in the room were specifically Crowley’s.

“Er, nah, it’s not a den. I just hang out here for the TV, really.” He gestured vaguely to the nice flat screen that Anathema had mounted on the wall. “I have a few streaming services on my phone, so I spend most of my time here or in the guest bedroom.”

“Oh, so the bedroom is where your den is? I suppose that makes more sense now that I think about it.” Aziraphale looked down sheepishly at the cup of tea in his hands, but Crowley could not for the life of him think why.

“Not really, I don’t, ah, have a den here, or anywhere, really.” He shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Oh, no?” Aziraphale was giving him a confused look. “As far as I’m aware, most cats usually set up a den where they’re most comfortable. So you don’t have a den here nor at the shelter?”

“Nah…” He waved the notion off, not yet willing to tell Aziraphale that there wasn’t really any place where he felt truly comfortable. Dens were something cats made in the places they called home, and Crowley had never known such a place. “I’m only here for a couple of weeks, and the shelter is full of kittens who like to knock things over and don’t really know the meaning of personal space, so…” He trailed off, hoping that his lacklustre explanation would suffice.

“Oh, right.” Aziraphale’s ears flattened on his head for a moment as he went back to staring into his tea. Crowley wasn’t sure of what to think of that. Maybe Tracy had taught him how to read tea leaves like Anathema tried to do with his whenever he drank tea. Eventually, after a few contemplative swishes of Aziraphale’s tail (that Crowley definitely hadn’t been staring at for a while now), the angel cat looked back up at him with a bit of a pinched smile. “Perhaps there’s something on that newfangled television set that you’d like to show me?”

Now this, Crowley could work with.

“So,” he began, eager to impress his mate (his wot???) with this random trivial knowledge. “You know the mastermind behind the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery, right?”

“Erm…” Aziraphale was now looking at Crowley like he had two heads. “No, I don’t think I’m familiar with their work…?”

“Really? Because she wrote some very popular books I thought you would’ve heard of.” He fished his phone out of one of his incredibly small pockets to try and pull something up on the Amazon Prime app. 

“Oh? Who was she? What did she write?” Aziraphale, to Crowley’s silent delight, was now leaning forward with great interest now that he brought books into the mix. 

“Novels, apparently. And movies! Or maybe they were turned into movies?” He continued to tap at his phone, but for the life of him couldn’t remember the title of the damned movie he was trying to find, and the guesses he was putting in weren’t getting any results.

“Right, yes, but what were the novels she wrote?” 

“I think it was something like…” Crowley paused in his fruitless typing to try and think of the title he saw when he was going down that long Reddit thread about master spies. “Primed Pear Juice…? Her name was Austin or something–”

“Jane Austen’s Prime and Prejudice?” Aziraphale nearly shouted, sounding aghast and exasperated for some reason.

“Yeah, yeah, tha’s what I said, didn’t I?” He quickly typed in ‘Pride and’ before the rest of the title thankfully popped into the recommendations.

“You most certainly did not! You said Primed Pear Ju–”      

“Found it!” Crowley exclaimed, cutting the flustered angel cat off. “I think you’ll like this one.” He quickly turned on the TV and got his phone to cast the movie on it.

“I think I’d like you to explain how you thought that Jane Austen was a–” He flinched back when the TV suddenly came to life. There was suddenly a black-and-white movie playing. The film’s title flashed on the screen followed by the subtitle, ‘Based on the dramatization of Jane Auten’s novel.’ 

Suddenly the angel cat’s attention was fully taken by regency-dressed characters on the screen. Aziraphale’s tail, which had previously been lazily swishing back and forth, was now stood straight up at attention as the cat leaned forward, closer to the TV.

Crowley smiled at his handiwork and settled comfortably back on the couch, content to watch his angel become fully enraptured by the film.

***

The rain stung against the shallow cut by his temple. When had he even been struck there? He didn’t know; he didn’t have time to think about it. 

He had to run.

He didn’t know if he was being followed, but he wasn’t going to take the chance by looking back now. He weaved through the passing humans as well as he could. He kept his ears flat on his head and his tail wrapped around his left leg to try and have it blend in with the dark fabric of his pants. If someone saw him running out here, a cat without their human… It would be bad. Someone could call animal control, and if they caught him they’d scan his collar’s tag and send him right back to–

The collar.

Crowley grappled at his throat and fumbled for the clasp on the back of his neck, but his hands were slippery from the rain (hopefully only the rain), and his hands kept slipping off of it. Desperate, he dug his finger between the collar and his neck, unleashed a claw, and tore through the expensive material. He tossed it into the nearest rubbish bin and kept running, diving into any back alley he could to stay out of sight.

He couldn’t be caught. He couldn’t.

If he were caught, it’d be all over.

He might not even make it out alive, and if he did… he would wish he wouldn’t have. Not if he was sent back to him. 

The shelter couldn’t be too much further, though. Just a few more streets, maybe. He just had to dive out of this alley and into the next. If he crossed the street fast enough, no one would have time to look at him. He could do this, he just had to keep running.

He leapt out of the alley, ready to sprint across the street–

The asphalt gave out under him, and the city, the whole world, fell away. Or maybe he was the one falling away? He couldn’t tell, everything was– everything was…

Soft…?

He fell into a cloud, this much he could tell. The roaring, thunderous rainclouds above turned into beige puffs of fluff, and the thunder turned into soft, delicate purrs. Everything turned into fuzzy puffs of white, cream, and beige. There were no buildings, no busy city streets, no humans… Just soft clouds and gentle purrs. Everything was so peaceful. So calm and homely… 

And everything smelt just like…

***

“Aziraphale…?” Crowley asked groggily. He was gently pulled from his dream by the sound and scent of his angel so close, but how…?

Crowley’s eyes snapped open and his heart began to race when he realized Aziraphale was lying comfortably on top of him with his head resting on Crowley’s chest.

“Oh, hello, dear.” Aziraphale lifted his head and smiled at him. “I’m so glad you’re awake. You really were having quite a bad dream….” His hands went from being folded neatly over Crowley’s chest to pulling and wringing at each other. “You were making such pained noises, so I decided to… rest down here with you so that you wouldn’t feel alone.” The angel cat looked to the side sheepishly.

Crowley now noticed that the TV had been turned off, likely since the movie ended and his phone stopped streaming after that. How long had he been asleep? He supposed it made sense since he hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night, but it was unusual for him to fall asleep out in the open, and even more unusual with someone else in the room with him. But Aziraphale was nice to have around, and besides the fact that they hadn’t known each other for more than a few days, Crowley felt more comfortable with Aziraphale than he’d ever felt with... Well, anyone. Perhaps it wasn’t so strange that he fell asleep near Aziraphale after all.

Though he was a little embarrassed about being caught having a nightmare, he was so stunned that Aziraphale laid with him so that he wouldn’t feel alone. Crowley had to blink away the little bits of moisture accumulating in the corners of his eyes at the thought of the gesture. It wasn’t until Aziraphale interrupted him with a question that he finally snapped out of his thoughts.

“My dear, you looked as if you were in pain… What on earth were you dreaming about that made you so upset?”

Crowley’s heart sank at the question. How was he supposed to answer that? Of course, he could come up with something other than what he actually dreamt of, but with his angel giving him that sweet, concerned look with those big stormy eyes of his… he couldn’t bear to lie to him.

Seeming to see the distress on Crowley’s face, Aziraphale folded his ears back and lowered his head the tiniest bit. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to press. Of course, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…”

Seeing his angel trying to make himself look smaller stirred up something strange in Crowley’s gut. He certainly wasn’t going to lie to his angel, and he definitely wasn’t going to let him continue to look all small and unsure. Besides, Aziraphale was… something to Crowley (His angel? His mate?), and he deserved to know just how broken Crowley was. That way, if the angel cat decided he did not want to associate himself with damaged goods, at least it would all be out in the open.

“No, it’s okay, angel. I, uh, I think you should know. If you want to hear about it…”

At this, Aziraphale’s eyes lit up the smallest bit, and his ears popped back up to listen. 

“Of course, my dear. I’ll listen to you.” The angel cat made himself comfortable by resting his chin on his hands, eyes wide and beautiful, waiting to hear Crowley’s story.

Steeling himself to talk about the event that he’d been trying to forget for over a year now, Crowley leaned his head back against the arm of the couch and took a deep breath.

***

“About a year ago, I was adopted by a man… He was handsome, charming, and also very rich. Before he officially adopted me, he would shower me with gifts. He'd give me anything from clothes, tech, food…” Crowley looked down at his own expensive clothing, guilty about still wearing them after everything that happened.   

“He gave me all the things I never had at the shelter. I thought he was the one. I thought after all these decades, I'd finally found someone who really wanted me, someone to finally be a companion to.” Here, he takes another deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“The night he adopted me and brought me home… It was almost like a switch was flipped. it was like he was a completely different person. His hands were all over me, and he tried to tear my clothes off… I had to claw my way out of there. I had to break the damn window to escape.” The dampness was back in the corners of his eyes returned. He squeezed them tighter, only for a pair of silent tears to run down the sides of his face. He did his best to ignore it because if he stopped now, he’d never be able to get the rest of the story out.

I was only able to get away after I struck him, but he managed to get a few hits on me, too… I ran back to the shelter in the rain that night, and Eve patched up my injuries as best she could. His lawyer called later the next day, and he agreed to nullify the adoption as long as we didn't go public about it…

And I've been at the shelter ever since.”

***

The living room of Jasmine cottage was silent.

Crowley refused to open his eyes. He wasn’t ready to see the disgust on Aziraphale’s face. He wasn’t ready to see the angel get up with the excuse that he had somewhere else to be and disappear from Crowley’s life forever. He wasn’t ready to open his eyes and see pity in the ones looking back at him.

“Oh, my dearest… My dear brave boy…”

There were suddenly very soft hands cradling his face, so Crowley didn’t have much of a choice but to see if what he felt was truly happening. He slowly opened his eyes and saw that his angel had leaned forward on his elbows to hold Crowly’s face in his hands. Aziraphale looked concerned and sad but also the tiniest bit… proud? 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, my dear, but I’m glad you’re safe now. I really am.”

Crowley, simultaneously relieved and stunned, lifted his hands to press against the ones holding his face. Aziraphale smiled softly then gently took Crowley’s hands in his and held them, resting their entwined hands on Crowly’s chest.

“I’m sorry to press, Crowley, but… you said this person was a human?” Aziraphale looked a little bit confused, but Crowley wasn’t sure what could have confused him.

“Well, yeah. Only humans can adopt cats. Of course, he was a human.”

This only seemed to confuse the angel cat more.

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” he nearly cried out. Crowley could feel a slight tremble in the angel cat’s hands. “Humans are supposed to protect their cats! That’s the whole point! How could a human ever think of hurting a cat in their care?” Aziraphale looked devastated now. He had held himself well enough to praise and comfort Crowley, but it seemed the more he thought about it, the more upset he was getting. “That’s just not right…” 

“Angel,” Crowley began softly, knowing through his many years of dealing with humans that most humans could care less about the cats in their care. Humans saw them as things to own, not as people with fluffy ears and tails. Occasionally a decent human like Eve or Anathema came along, but they must be far and few between if Crowley’s experience said anything about it. “A lot of humans are just like that. I mean, humans were the ones who took your claws.”

Aziraphale’s whole body stiffened on top of Crowley’s and a thin layer of tears began to shine in the angel cat’s eyes.

Oh fuck. Oh shit. Shitshitshitshitfuckingshit!

Crowley opened his mouth to apologize, trying and failing to come up with anything that could smooth over the angel’s metaphorical ruffled feathers.

Luckily the angel cat spoke up first before he could shove his foot further into his mouth.

“No!” He gripped Crowley’s hands tightly. “He shouldn’t have done that to you! It’s not right! You didn’t deserve that! Humans are supposed to take care of their cats! They’re supposed to protect them! You’re a good cat! You’re a wonderful cat that deserves to be protected and cared for, and I’m glad he’s not your human anymore because he doesn’t deserve you!” Aziraphale all but shouted the rest of it, voice only getting slightly louder with each sentence. By the end, he looked winded, as if it had taken everything out of him to get that out.

Crowley, too shocked to do anything but gape at the beautiful thing before him, just sat there while Aziraphale collected himself. When Aziraphale spoke again, it was much softer and calmer.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you, my dear, but thinking about someone trying to hurt you just got me all flustered…”

Crowley frankly was trying very hard to keep his body from getting overly excited about his angel losing his temper in order to defend Crowley. He could already begin to feel his face heat up (among other things).

“No worries, angel,” he paused when he noticed his own tail flailing back and forth behind Aziraphale, obviously not getting the memo that it was supposed to appear unaffected. “I don’t mind. You’re very pretty when you’re flustered.” 

Flirty, yes, flirty was good! Calm, relaxed, and sassy would work here.

It was Aziraphale’s turn to have suddenly pinkening cheeks.

They were just a blushie pair of catboys.

At least most of the tension in the air was now replaced by some very soft and fuzzy feelings that were not at all befitting of a cool hip cat like Crowley… But Aziraphale smiled and rested his head back down against Crowley’s chest with his hands moving back under his cheek, so Crowley didn’t say anything to break the haze of fluff. Instead, he moved his newly freed hands to wrap gently around Aziraphale's back in a ghost of an embrace. Though he missed holding hands with him, the soft purrs emanating from the angel cat when he put his palms flat on Aziraphale's back more than made up for it.

“Crowley, dear?” Aziraphale said softly, finally breaking the silence of their… cuddle?

“Mm?”

“Do you really have to go back to the shelter? I know Tadfield doesn’t have much to offer in the way of excitement, but it’s not a bad place to live, I promise you.” Part of the angel’s voice sounded like he was pleading with Crowley, and it broke his heart that he couldn’t simply say that he would stay.

“I don’t know, angel, it’s not up to me.”

Here, Aziraphale turned his head so his chin was resting on his hands again, looking at Crowley. “What do you mean?”

“Anathema is just doing this foster agreement as a favor to one of the shelter teachers: Eve. I’m not actually sure if Anathema even wants a cat in the first place, let alone a cat like me.”

Aziraphale, looking disheartened if his lowering tail and ears folding to the side were any indication, looked away. He snuggled a little closer to Crowley.

“Oh…”

“I’ve been trying to be a good cat for her,” Crowley admitted. “But after what happened to me… I’ve just been so broken, angel. And no one wants broken goods.” He hadn’t intended on spilling these thoughts out, but he couldn’t just say nothing to Aziraphale’s disheartened face. 

“I don’t think you’re broken, Crowley,” Aziraphale said with firm conviction. “And even if you are, the cracks in your frame are by far the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

Crowley really wished his angel would stop making him want to cry today. So, of course, he said something stupid to divert those feelings.

“So you’re saying you want to see my crack?” He cracked a mischievous smirk. “My, my, angel, how forward of you.”

The already pinkish hue the angel had was now taking on a deeper red colour.

“Crowley, you fiend!” He huffed. “There is no need to be so crass. I was just trying to be sweet and romantic!

Romantic?!?!?!    

Crowley immediately sat up enough so that he could rest most of his weight on his elbows without knocking Aziraphale off of him. “Is that something that you want?” He asked way too quickly. “Romance, I mean?”

Aziraphale’s blush didn’t look like it was going down any time soon.

“Well–” He, for once, was the one to fumble his words. “I… I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to it… if you were offering it, anyway. I wouldn’t want to presume…”

“Oh, I’m offering all right!” Crowley wouldn’t let Aziraphale back out of this now that he’d spoken first. “Presume away, angel! I’ll romance you so hard, you’re going to think I’m the cat’s meow.”

A soft, plush hand was gently slapped down over his face. 

“No, I’ve changed my mind. Keep your romance to yourself. That was truly terrible.” Despite the hand on his face, Crowley could tell that Aziraphale was teasing him. He gently peeled the angel’s hand off his face and over-dramatically pleaded with him.

“Aw, come on, angel, gimmie another chance!” he pouted out his lip, but it was no match for the king of pouting himself. Aziraphale other hand plopped down over Crowley’s face right where the other had been. 

“Not a cat’s chance in hell, my dear.”

Oh, so he can make the cat puns, but not me? Right then. Time to break out the big guns.

Crowley once again took Aziraphale’s hand from his face, but this time he slid his hand down so that the angel cat was now holding Crowley’s cheek again. Raising a single salacious eyebrow and smirking once again at his angel, Crowley turned his face into the angel cat’s palm and pressed a delicate kiss to it. When he turned back to Aziraphale, grinning like the cat who got the cream, he saw that the angel cat was now looking more like a tomato than a cat.

“You just don’t play fair, do you, my dear?” Aziraphale said, flustered but undoubtedly happy. 

“Nah,” Crowley shook his head. “Proper demon I am, angel. Maybe my cat’s chance in hell isn’t so bad after all?”

“Hm,” Aziraphale hummed primly, giving Crowley an appraising look now that his face was finally going back to its usual happy pink. “Yes, well. There might be hope for you yet, my dear.”

With this, Aziraphale tucked his hands between Crowley and the couch cushions and settled his head back down onto Crowley’s chest (after, of course, making sure to rub his whiskers against Crowley a little bit to spread his sent there. Fucking tease).

Crowley soon after wrapped his arms back around his angel and rubbed gentle circles on his back until Aziraphale’s sleepy purr came back to coerce Crowley to rest with him. They both settled comfortably into their catnap as Crowley’s final sleepy thoughts rang through his head in Aziraphale’s voice. He hoped the voice was right.

There may be hope for you yet, my dear.

OMG I just saw the ask about the catboys. I have nothing to add. I love your ineffable catboys. 🖤♥️🖤 🤍💙🤍

!!

[izzysink]

𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 𝟷𝟶𝟹𝟹 ✎ 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑠: 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 ✎ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✎ 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝟷 ✎ 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝟸 ✎ 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝟹

𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑜 = @lanalosty0uu - you should totally check out their steve x reader time travel fic here on Tumblr!

part 2!! god speed people!! I've decided this is an Eddie x reader, but in the future I really wanna write for Gareth, he's so silly I love him 🤭 anyways not as long as the other part but also I don't do long chapters in general soo ;P the moodboard isn't moodboarding today!! >:(

So, to recap; you’d left your dorm room at Hawkins Community College at 10:30 am on the 10th of the 3rd 2025, and had taken your usual route through the old high school building, now the arts department for the HCC, and somehow ended up in the bustling corridors of Hawkins High. And at 11:00 on the 10th of the 3rd 1986, stood outside of the local convenience store, you realised how exactly fucked you really were. 

Oh. 

You slumped down onto the nearest park bench, tapping your foot idly as you thought, what was a girl to do? You had no money (your card hadn’t worked at the grocery store, a rookie move in hindsight. Every time-traveler worth their salt knew that a bank card from a bank whose owners aren’t even born yet wouldn’t work; obviously.) And no way to get back. Oh your professor was so going to fail you. 

Your stomach panged, telling you it wanted more than the instant coffee you’d had that morning. Bringing your knees up to your chest you mumbled an oh my god before silent tears began to streak your face, mascara running down your cheeks.

↜✿↝

Eddie been having a woefully normal day, wake up when school starts, pull up half-way through registration, head to first period, head to second period, find a note in his locker from one of the jocks for an afterschool meeting, head to third period, meet in the drama room for a quick DnD session with Hellfire, say hi to the girl, wait. Who? 

Admittedly, he had been caught off guard by the intruder of Hellfire’s precious space, but that annoyance had turned to quick curiosity when you stumbled around the room, going outside into the yard before immediately coming back in again, wide eyed and confused. You were cute, he noticed, and your clothes were weird for a college-age girl, but he did have a private appreciation for the low jeans you wore.

“You okay there, princess?” your head snapped up, eyes meeting with his for an electrifying moment before mumbling a response and going silent. He watched as you looked around the room quietly, confusion and distress clear on your face. The bell rang, and the freshman cleared out instantly, rushing out in a wave of hormones, taking you with them. Eddie decided to skip next period, it was English anyway, and he’s read those books three times already, the Great Gatsby can wait.

Eddie watched quietly with his arms crossed as you stood in the middle of the corridor, marvelling at the drab decorations on the walls. It was kinda sweet that the place he’s been stuck in for 3 years was so interesting for you. Not that he cared what you thought, you’re a stranger, obviously…

He introduced himself awkwardly, curse this enchanting woman, and you answered him absent-mindedly, cute and ignoring him, just his type. He tasted your name on his mouth, echoing in his mind, it fit you perfectly, the otherworldly vibe you gave off pulling him like a moth to a flame. Not that you seemed to notice though, as you turned on your heel and sped-walked towards the front entrance.

He was tempted to follow you, but thought better of it, don’t be a creep, munson, heading off to greet his favourite English teacher, she loved him, really.

↜✿↝

You stayed on the bench for a good while before deciding to try and find some answers, or at least somewhere to stay. You first found a public bathroom, using some paper towels to clean your face and around your eyes, goodbye rare beauty blush, you will be missed. You wandered around Hawkins, observing the similarities and differences of an 80s Hawkins and a twenty-first century Hawkins. Surprisingly, not much had changed, only a few shops were different, and the mall was walled off for some reason, but mostly things were the same. It was comforting, knowing where you were going and seeing a familiar place even if the faces were different. 

You got a few weird looks for your outfit and your face of wonder at the little town, but you weren’t too bothered. 

Turns out, you wandered around for hours, your conviction to find answers melting away as you floated around Hawkins. You spent so much time wandering, in fact, that you noticed a trickle of high school students hanging out after school. You were pretty far away from Hawkins High, so you didn’t see many of them, which was why it was so easy to spot the group of kids in black and white shirts again. You saw now that there was also a devil graphic on the front, and the words HELLFIRE CLUB written in bold across the top. 

With them, was a guy around your age with the most gorgeous hair you’d ever seen. He wasn’t really your type though, sadly, he definitely gave off amazing boyfriend vibes™.

You carried on, not wanting to disturb or interrupt them, walking down one of the more suburban streets, picket fences and lush yards lining the road.

A van pulled up beside you, slowing to a snail's pace for the driver to lower the window. It was the boy from before, Eddie, if you remembered correctly, and now that you were more relaxed and calmed, you saw just how attractive the man was.

He had wonderful just-past-shoulder-length curly hair, and an innocent but mature face, a cheeky smile spread his pink lips, and looking further down you saw he was wearing one of the same Hellfire shirts as well as a leather jacket and a sleeveless denim jacket overtop. You guessed he would be wearing black jeans of some kind. The thing that caught your eye the most were the rings on his hands, the way the silver gleamed teasingly in the sunlight, the shining metal drawing your eyes like a bee to honey.

“-a ride?” you jerk your head up to meet his deep brown eyes, “sorry what?” He huffed a laugh, blowing air through his mouth, some of it pushing up the bangs that rested in his forehead adorably, “would you like a ride, princess?”

𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠! 🤍

[martellspear]

it bothers us because you have delusions that martell princess who was raped but nobody except her family was bothered by it cause she was so irrelevant suddenly should matter more than Jon Targaryen's parents who according to canon 'he loved her she loved him' and their love brought about the birth of the prince who was promised

suck on it irrelevant ugly woman stans and you have the gall to compare princess viserra to her when viserra was million more beautiful than the dornish scum and her ill spawn could ever be

Jon WHO? LMAO. I wasn't going to post this - my moots & followers don’t deserve to read this shit -  but it made me laugh more than the others

Rhaegar chose Lyanna, I agree.... but it was to die. Do you think he wouldn't have taken here somewhere safer and with more people to ensure > her < safety during childbirth if he wanted to? Please.

He could've let Elia die in a third pregnancy and be free from her and marriage duties. The thing is that the moment he found out it might happen he went "no❤️".

Also, I'd be embarrassed to use the show as source. Especially if my pRoMisEd pRiNcE's end was that one.

'Ugly woman' and that's her:

"The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia’s delicate beauty."

I can't believe you're so obsessed to the point of seeing posts I don't tag😭. Go use that time to read the books, they're fun.

On a more serious note [tw: rape]:

You are disgusting. Do you know how hard someone has to try to be worse than some ASOIAF men?

‘In Casterly Rock, it was common knowledge that Gregor Clegane had killed Elia and her babe. They said he had raped the princess with her son’s blood and brains still on his hands.’

That’s what you are mocking. I don’t care that she’s a fictional character, what you and your rabble say about her is truly sickening, it’s heartbreaking that you get to vote.

Someone who’s not from her family and cares a lot about what happened is Ned. I’m sorry if his own sister’s death didn’t influence his non-Jon decisions but Elia’s did.

Thus, one of the reasons he gives Cersei the chance to escape is his memory of Elia and her children's bodies presented to Robert and his reaction, you can’t even deny how much it affected him.

‘Ned had named that murder; Robert called it war. When he had protested that the young prince and princess were no more than babes, his new-made king had replied, “I see no babes. Only dragonspawn.” Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm that storm. Eddard Stark had ridden out that very day in a cold rage [...]’

A few other quotes: 

‘Tyrion watched the faces of the Lords Tyrell, Redwyne, and Rowan, wondering if any of the three would be bold enough to say, “But Lord Tywin, wasn’t it you who presented the bodies to Robert, all wrapped up in Lannister cloaks?” None of them did, but it was there on their faces all the same. Redwyne does not give a fig, he thought, but Rowan looks fit to gag.’

"Cersei is frightened of you, my lord … but she has other enemies she fears even more. [...] In Dorne, the Martells still brood on the murder of Princess Elia and her babes.

‘Some nights, Ser Barristan wondered if he had not done that duty too well [...] m. Princess Elia and the children. Aegon just a babe, Rhaenys with her kitten. Dead, everyone, yet he still lived, who had sworn to protect them.’

‘The Dornishmen burn to avenge Elia and her children [...]’

I know you can’t relate but Elia was loved. It wouldn’t matter if ‘only her family’ cared, what happened to her was brutal and nothing changes it. You people just come off as rude, uneducated and ignorant. 

Fun fact: the name 'Elia' is mentioned 75 times throughout the series, 'Lyanna' 53 and 'Rhaegar', thanks to Dany, 258

[allegra-j-joann]

The Library of Babel

“The Library,” my father told me that time many years ago, though day and year are both derivatives of time and thus are hardly applicable to the situation here and are only used for the reader’s ease of understanding “is vastly vast and spirallingly endless through all of existence, just rooms upon rooms, and librarians in all.” I watched him as he sat with the book open on his lap, his frail hands hiding the scrawled letters from where I stood, he coveted those letters as though they were written in gold. I tore my eyes from the paper and back to my father, who was so pale and fragile now I might have mistaken him for paper, were he not speaking aloud “what book do you suppose you’ll read?”

“What do you mean ‘what book’?” I simply grow irritated when he asks such questions of me “I’ll read as many as I can possibly fit into my life” I raise my arms to the vast room around me and he shakes his head.

“That is why I ask which one, by the time you have finished your first then your time will be over, you may not age now, but you gain a year for every page you will turn” he sighed, turning to the next page of his own book, there were only a few left now.

“Then I shall go and find the best book in the library, and I shall read that,” I left the chamber, I wouldn’t find my book there anyway, I was sure it was somewhere else. Buried amongst the many other identical covers, perhaps already being read by another librarian in some far off hexagon.

No room that I entered over the next decade, though once again decade, being a time word, has no real application, seemed to pull at me the way I imagined it must. My feet carried me endlessly from chamber to chamber, my fingers brushing across spines of silk and leather as breeze hushed its way through the shaft in the center, making me imagine occasionally that it came from somewhere beyond the chambers that ought, really, to just be stuffy, still and musty. When I came across them sitting in their corners, I would speak to the other librarians, all with their dull clothing and lined faces but glowing eyes, they all spoke of the same things in the same tones as my father had so long ago; Golden ink in spiralling handwriting, written by who I wondered, leading them word by word through odd narratives that sometimes meant nothing at all, heavy pages that sometimes were difficult to turn yielding secrets that none would share with me.

Once or twice, like dreaming, I would feel a tug and open a book on the nearest shelf, I later found the name of this tug on one of the pages, Curiosity, But I never was able to read more than a page before finding myself confused and agitated. This was foolish, I could always assure myself, surely if it meant for me to read it the letters would not swim before my eyes the way they did.

The philosophy had always seemed sound to me as I walked ever onwards, If I’m meant to read through the whole book then it will make sense. There was only one librarian I met who ever made me think otherwise, he sat in hexagon in circuit 15-94, the creases in his stony face seemed to crack and split as he lifted his head to look at me. There is little I had seen in the library that could have compared to this librarian, his eyes no longer glowed like the others, his hands wavered over the page of his book “ah, young one,” he spoke hardly above a whisper but, oh how it filled the room “you haven’t chosen a book yet?”

“No, I haven’t, I haven’t found any that draws me in” I admit, looking around at all the identical shelves and spines, where was the last hexagon I’d felt a tug in, it must be so far from here.

The man simply shook his head “then you may well have walked past it, you won’t know your book until you read it, you just have to pick one” he sighed “though you may be searching the wrong level too, perhaps you want the round room” seeing the confusion on my face he continued, ushering me to sit down “it has been a whisper amongst the librarians, they’ve seen the words in their books and told it to passersby, a hexagon that is not, it is just one continuous wall with only a single shelf with a single book, whose spine goes all the way around”

“What does that mean, how do I find such a room?” I knelt in front of him, He merely shook his head and looked back down at the book resting open on his lap, its ink didn’t look dull to me, though, neither did it didn’t shine the way I imagined. 

“only a whisper, Young one, any librarian with a bit of sense\ knows no such room can exist, a room with only one wall, could you believe such a thing? Nay, it can’t exist” his breath came hollow as he laughed. He tried turning the page again, but his hands shook so that he couldn’t lift the corner “do help me won’t you, young one?” I reached carefully to flip the thick, yellowed paper over.

 I sat in quiet contemplation of his words as he read on, some part of me, deep in the core of my brain, agreed with him. How would such a room fit into the library, where every hexagon locked together. With only one wall, where would the door be? And what of the round book. I sat imagining it, were it’s spine a ring top to bottom, there’d be no way to turn the page, inwards or outwards, it would simply be too inflexible, but were it’s spine a ring, side to side, there would be no first page to start at, and no last page to end it, I salivate at the thought of all the knowledge that could be in such a book, with such impossibly infinite-seeming pages, and perhaps if I never reached the end of the book, I could never run out of time, though I might grow very bored of that with no time to pass or kill. 

I am hardly through these thoughts of mine when the librarian in front of me reaches the very last letter of the four hundred and tenth page of his book, letting it rest on his lap as he leaned back, the air between us became ever still and I knew that I was alone. In the feeble and inadequate light cast by the globes that grew from the wall the man looked unnervingly like my father, though I was a good many leagues from the hexagon where he had settled to read, I wondered if another librarian had come across him before he finished the last few pages of his book. Gently as I can, I take the man and push his body into the shaft at the center, his book clutched to my chest to be put back on the shelf. I pause. I think I should simply pick a book, rather than search for the impossible room. Quietly I take my seat and open to a random page of the book the man left behind, finding, halfway down, seven simple words “I Live, I die, I am gone”.

[sukirichi]

— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.

PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader

REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy 

WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story

NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty

WC: 5.4k+

The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.

Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.

Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.

He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.

You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.

“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “So...you’re Y/N.”

“Yeah!”

“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”

“Yeah!”

“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”

“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”

He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”

“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”

“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”

“I know.”

“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.

Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.

“What exactly do you know about this industry?”

“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”

The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”

“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”

“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”

“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”

“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”

“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”

“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”

“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.

Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”

It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.

You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that – the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!

“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”

“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”

“You trying to say something?”

You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”

Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.

You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.

Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.

The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.

He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”

“Oh, thank you. You are...?”

“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.

“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”

Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.

“Whoa, you made all this?!”

Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”

At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”

“You can – if you book an appointment.”

“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.

“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”

“Why not?”

“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”

You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”

That was the biggest lie of your life.

The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.

You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.

And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.

In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.

“Hey, Y/N, you free?”

You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.

“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”

“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”

You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.

He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.

It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.

“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”

“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.

Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.

“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”

“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.

Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.

You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?

“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.

“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”

“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”

“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”

“Something wrong with that?”

“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”

“Sukuna?”

“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”

“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.

Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”

He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”

“How sweet of you.”

“Shut up.”

You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.

He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.

You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.

Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.

Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.

You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.

One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.

Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch of...you? “Are you drawing me?”

Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.

“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”

“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”

Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”

“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Can I see your tattoos too?”

“Why do you want to see them?”

“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”

“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”

“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.

“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”

“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.

A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.

You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”

Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”

You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”

“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”

“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”

Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”

“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”

“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”

“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.

You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.

Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places.  “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”

“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”

“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.

Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”

“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”

“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”

“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.

A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.

He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.

You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”

“Intense?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.

“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”

“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.

Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”

“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.

Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.

“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”

“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.”

He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.

“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”