#indeed he made no mention of queue

[imaginidol]

Jongho: Backstage After-Hours

!!mentions of NSFW!! 18+ !! do NOT interact if you are not comfortable with smut!! as requested, here is a Jongho smut fic for you! This one is also pretty long so be prepared for that :3 IF you are comfortable, you may read more smuts here: hongjoong, san, mingi, yunho, wooyoung. PLEASE feel free to request more if you'd like! I'll get to ALL requests soon!!

The last thing you would've expected of this year was to be screaming your lungs out at a front-row seat for ATEEZ.

The shock overwhelmed you the night that the ATEEZ tickets were released for their tour, and no more than four seconds into the queue, you managed to snag a front-row seat.

Front row. Front. Row. To ATEEZ.

Sure, this meant you'd be working overtime for the next few weeks, but it was a small sacrifice to pay for the unmatched excitement that would await you soon. You've never been so quick to put any purchase like this into your credit card, and now the day finally came and here you were--screaming you rabid lungs out for the boys who made you the happiest person in the world.

Your live-in-the-moment excitement bounced off and influenced the fans around you. Soon enough, your side of the pit was the most fun to visit by the boys. They loved the energy, the fact that you were hopping around and screaming your heart out, singing along to all of their songs, and you were one of the few fans who didn't have a phone up to your face capturing the perfect fancam for the entirety of the 3-hour long concert duration.

Now, if your luck for front-row hadn't been enough to convince you that fate was indeed real, you were surely re-considering it when a security guard briskly walked up to you as you started leaving your seat, asking you to follow him once the concert ended.

Am I in trouble? is all you can think in your head as you nervously walk behind the guard, going over the events of the night that might've caused a misunderstanding.

Maybe they think I'm a sasaeng. Maybe my tickets were a fraud!?

To your surprise, you weren't yelled at or interrogated at all. Instead, a tall, slender woman with a KQ shirt greets you with a smile.

"Before you accept to come backstage and we proceed with anything further, I'll need you to sign this," she hands you a pen and a clipboard with an NDA form for you to read and fill out.

I'm being given an NDA. A Non-Disclosure Agreement. These things only happen in...

You shakily hand back the form with your information and initials signed.

...fanfiction.

The woman takes you towards the back and you quietly admire a multitude of stretching backup dancers, audio and sound engineers, large camera and videography equipment, and so much more.

It's a lot brighter than I ever imagined a backstage to be, you thought, attempting to distract yourself from the impending elephant that would soon ensue.

Finally, you're introduced to Choi Jongho, main vocalist, main dancer, and the infamous maknae of ATEEZ.

No. Fucking. Way.

"Ah, I didn't think you'd agree to come back here," he bows his head, offering you a warmest smile and a water bottle. "I'm Jongho, thank you for coming."

He offers you a seat on a single-seater sofa, closing the door of his dressing room behind him. He sat himself on another single-seater to be closer to you, and now you were practically face-to-face with one of the most beautiful boys to ever cross your existence.

This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This. Isn't. Fucking. Happening.

"I know who you are," you giggle, introducing yourself and offering your warmest smile, ignoring the obvious screaming and fangirling raging on in your head.

"I wanted to meet you backstage because I wanted to tell you that I saw you up front," he smiles, "and I really liked your energy. I wanted to meet you so bad."

"You liked my energy?" you scoff, "Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?"

"You wouldn't be too surprised if you knew what it's like from the stage," he smirked. "There's always a camera on you. I don't blame anyone, of course, because you do what you want with what you pay for. But sometimes the crowd is too immersed in their videos that they forget to enjoy the moment. It makes me feel like a robot."

He turns to you, covering his mouth in slight embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to invite you here to listen to me vent."

"No," you giggle, "I totally get it. I enjoyed the moment with you guys too, and I loved seeing you come to my side of the stage when we linked. Sharing interactions like that really made me feel like you guys noticed me, too. You're really great performers."

"Thank you," he smiles.

Several small conversations (and several arm pinches to make sure you weren't dreaming or anything) later, you manage to calm yourself down the more and more you talked with Jongho.

He really is just an ordinary person, just like me.

"Who's your bias?" the boy suddenly asks, leaning back against his chair.

"My bias? Currently you, obviously," you laugh.

"Nah, you're just saying that 'cause I'm right here," he says.

"Fine. My bias currently is Yunho."

"Currently? What, it changes?"

"Mm-hmm," you nod, "I can't ever stick to one bias. You're all just so fun to stan."

"Okay," he grins, "we could change it from Yunho to me then, right?"

You grin, covering your mouth as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

"How about you?" you poke back.

"Me?"

"Yeah, who's your favorite fan? Is that even a thing?"

He lets out a loud laugh, turning back to you.

"You could be my favorite fan," he smirks.

"You're also just saying that," you smile.

"Can I be honest?"

You cock your head to the side, a curious smile beaming across your face. "Honest? About what?"

"You're the only fan I've asked to come backstage for this tour," he says quietly.

"You're lying," you giggle.

"I'm not," he whispers as a more endearing smile crosses his face. "I think you're also very pretty."

He eyed you steadily now, slow blinking and leaning back against his chair. You couldn't help but think about where this could lead to, if you allowed it.

"Is that why you made me sign an NDA?" you smirk, crossing your legs and leaning against the armchair.

The boy scoffs, looking away in embarrassment. "No, I didn't mean to come off as--"

"Relax," you tease, "I'm just messing with you. I think you're really cute, too. Way cuter in person."

You eye him steadily now, a sly grin meeting his. "Can I be honest now?"

He keeps his eyes locked on you, marveling at the way the apples of your cheeks illuminated your face when you smiled.

"I'd love to put that NDA to good use."

Jongho smiles slowly, relaxing against his chair and man-spreading his legs.

"Come here, then," he whispers.

His expression fades to lust at the sight of you slowly making your way to his lap. One of the many things he loved about you tonight was your outfit. You were wearing a black and white blazer dress with a deep, plunging neckline. An outfit that made your pretty face stand out in a crowd, but also one that implied you were grown enough to fuck.

And man, was he glad that you were initiating it.

You lean over him as he pulls your legs over his lap, grazing his lips gently against yours, closing your eyes as you caressed each other's faces and bodies in unison. As he kisses you slowly, he brings a hand against your thighs, curiously outlining his fingertips over your curves. You bring a hand to his jaw and push further into his mouth, inviting his tongue into yours with each fervent kiss. Jongho glides his hand from your hips to your inner thighs, circling his fingers around your clothed groin. The feel of Jongho's fingers poking at you through your clothes was enough to make you crave for his warmth against your body.

"Jongho," you whisper into him, "let me entertain you tonight."

You begin sliding off his lap and start unbuttoning your dress, taking a few step backs as you slowly and seductively exposed more of your collarbone, shoulders, and breasts. You step out of your dress and fold it neatly on the floor, using it as a cushion for your knees.

Jongho bites his lower lip and brings a hand to cover his mouth to hold back a grunt. Seeing you bend to your knees in front of him was enough to ignite an emerging boner rising deep inside his black sweatpants.

You slowly glide your hands against his hips until you reach the waist of his pants, tugging at them slowly until his boxers were out.

Cute, you think, as you're greeted by a pair of pink AllSaints boxers.

"I ran out of black pairs," is all he can embarrassingly admit, his cheeks growing bright and hot at seeing your smile.

"No," you whisper, "these are so much better."

You pull his boxers down to reveal his long, hardened cock already pleading for your entertainment.

You dampen your lips as you begin stroking the erect member with your hands, pulling soft, deep strokes as the boy reposed against his chair.

He bites his lip harder to hold back a low grunt, his lust for you enticing further at the feel of your warm hands wrapped around him. He exhaled deeper and heavier breaths as you began twisting his member, gently stroking it over and over. Suddenly, he felt the warmth and wetness of your tongue delicately licking against his tip.

The boy reaches a hand to your head, calmly running his fingers through your hair before proceeding to nudge you further, bringing your mouth gingerly around his cock. You obeyed, sucking on him considerately before picking up the pace.

You experimented with your timing for a bit, switching between your hands and your mouth (and sometimes both) wrapped around his throbbing member. The boy's breathing intensified as he began to feel himself on the verge of reaching a climax. He massaged your scalp as he pushed you deeper into him, soft sounds of gagging and choking erupting in the air.

The boy lets out a whimper as he looks down to see you shying away from him, licking your lips and wiping your mouth as you stood up.

"Why'd you--why'd you stop? I.. I was so.."

You grinned, knowing that edging him was part of the entertainment deal you wanted to give him exclusively.

"Are you being entertained? I didn't say I was done," you grin, climbing back on his lap and wrapping your thighs around his cock. You leaned into him, placing your hands over his shoulders as you slowly began riding his dick, throwing your head back as your soft moans progressively got louder. All at once, the tempered boy was also thrusting himself underneath you, desperately wanting to take charge of what was about to come.

And so, when he couldn't hold himself back anymore, he did.

He stood up and carried you towards his vanity mirror, sitting you against the tabletop. Your legs wrapped around his waist, sinking your fingernails deep into his back, gasping as the boy started fucking you. And he was going in hard.

From behind you, he caught sight of himself in the mirror as he fucked you hard, and to his surprise, the reflection in the mirror had aroused him even more. The way your legs were clenched and buckled around his waist, the way you bounced up and down at every protruding thrust, the way your head was leaning into his shoulder as you desperately bit into his blades with hopes of silencing your screams. Now he was going in harder, clutching onto the sides of the desk as the furniture rattled underneath you both.

He turned to face you, sticking his tongue inside your mouth agape. At this point, he was taking full control of you and your body, and all you could do was try to ease the thristing moans repeatedly escaping your lips.

"Fuck," Jongho grunts as he feels himself on the verge of climaxing, and in a sudden instant you find yourself on your back against the floor in an attempt to make you more comfortable.

If only there was a fucking longer couch instead of single ones, he quietly cursed in his head, pulling your legs over his shoulders and mindlessly fucking you on the carpet. While the floor wasn't the most comfortable place to fuck, it had come in great luck as Jongho had managed to finally reach your G-spot.

You tightened your handgrip against the legs of the vanity desk behind you, letting out the last of your cries before feeling the hot release of your orgasm rush through your lower abdomen. You noticed the boy's face scrunch up as he was about to ejaculate inside of you, and then in an instant you felt the rush of his hot cum spilling in and all over your inner thighs, making a mess of the floor beneath you.

"Fuck," he panted, bringing your legs down from his shoulders and wrapping them around his hips instead. You looked in awe as the sweat drops rolled down his forehead, his mouth agape and eyes closed as he tried to steady his breathing.

You sat up and placed your hands around his jaw, giving him a quick kiss before he could open his eyes again.

"What was that for?" he smiled tiredly.

"For being a good performer off-stage, too," you smirk.

He laughs, repositioning himself on the floor to where you were sitting across his lap again, his hands wrapped around your waist and your arms around his neck.

"You're a good fan," he says, his eyes softening as a smile crossed your face, "both in a crowd and in private."

You smile, letting him pepper kisses all over your cheek, jaw, and lips.

"Are you gonna look for me when you come back for your next tour?" you say, cocking your head to the side.

"I don't think you believed me when I said you're the only person I've picked from a crowd for this tour," he insists again.

"You're lying, that's why I don't believe you," you tease.

"I'm serious. I mean, I've invited people over before... for my past tours... but none of them have had as much of a colorful personality as yours. You're the first who really stuck out to me in a long time, really. Both on and offstage. I hope you never lose that part of you."

"Awe," you smile warmly, "look at you being so sweet. It makes me kind of want to bias you, now."

"I haven't been able to change your mind from biasing me instead of Yunho?" he furrows his brows in annoyance.

"I don't know yet," you shrug, planting another soft kiss against his cheek.

"Then I guess that leaves me only one option," he grins, giggling into your neck and rocking you gently back and forth, "be my girlfriend one day, so I can make more time to convince you to always choose me."

small pt. 2 coming soon!! (sfw :))

[presidenthades]

Day 2 of HOTD adventures at New York Comic Con

As I mentioned in my Day 1 post, I did end up attending the HOTD panel today! It was live-streamed, so I won’t bother with a full recap because a lot of people have probably watched the recording. I’ll just list a few things I thought were highlights.

First of all, I just want to brag about my very excellent seat. I had a great view of the stage.

My personal highlights:

Before the panel began, an event host went around the room to get some sound bites from the audience. The most notable was a pair of women who cosplayed Rhaenys and Meleys. That’s right, someone cosplayed MELEYS. I wish I’d gotten photos, but believe me when I say the cosplays were amazing.

When Matt talked about how he’s attended many fan events, it made me think about how during his brief interactions for photos and autographs, he still made every fan feel seen and appreciated. I read online that Matt, who was scheduled to do Saturday autographs only until 7pm, stayed after 10pm to make sure everyone in line got their autographs. He probably is aware that his lines are generally really long, and he did his best to make the experience worth it even though he had limited time.

It was a CROWDED room, I think 4000 people? If Fabien seemed a little startled/awestruck at first, that’s why. He also seemed surprised (at the panel and during other fan interactions later) that people were genuinely happy to see him. I suspect this is due to some people letting their feelings about Criston seep into their real-life interactions with Fabien.

Cock jokes. 😂😂😂

The host asked Tom and Fabien if they became more comfortable going from Season 1 to Season 2. Not sure if the livestream caught it, but Tom let out an awkward giggle after that question. 👀

When the host asked Fabien how he would rate his job as Hand and then the question was tossed to the audience, the reception was indeed lackluster. Lots of people held up hands with just one or two fingers raised. Fabien seemed really sheepish about it, though Tom defended Criston’s character. It reminded me of a conversation I overheard while queuing before the panel. There was a group of friends in the queue, and one of them said she’d never seen HOTD and knew nothing about it. Her friends told her that if the panel asked any questions about Cole, “don’t cheer because we hate him.”

Matt and Fabien discussing Daemon and Criston’s homoerotic trysts/tension. 🔥

Tom’s spiel about how he can’t turn his back on Aegon as a character or else everyone else will turn their backs was interesting. Also about how digging into the reasons Aegon behaves the way he does is “an explanation not an excuse.” I think that’s a nuance which unfortunately some people disregard, and that leads to toxic interactions in the fandom.

Matt’s description of Viserys’s death instilling in Daemon “an odd level of psychosis and grief” was VERY interesting.

I can’t believe Matt forgot Milly’s name. 😂 And when Fabien recounted that he told her to join them at NYCC, Milly said “no fucking way.” 😂😂😂

I happened to get a photo when Tom announced he spilled water on his trousers and, in his own words, it looked like he pissed himself.

The way the actors talked AROUND their feelings about the script/writers was intriguing. 👀 I wonder if Matt will actually make requests of the writers…

When the host asked what other character the actors would like to play, Fabien had trouble thinking of an answer, so the host said, “You love your character so much!” Fabien IMMEDIATELY said, “Don’t put that out into the aether.” It seems like he doesn’t allow himself to publicly declare that he likes anything about his own character, because he knows how much vitriol that would generate. 🥺

Tom has never watched Lord of the Rings??? CANCEL HIM. (JK please don’t.)

When the host asked the actors what was the worst note a director had ever given them, Fabien said it would have to wait a few years after HOTD. So I am pretty sure his “worst note” was something during HOTD. 👀

Matt thinks chipmunks and mice are the same thing. 😭

When the panel ended, Matt and Tom left pretty quickly because their handlers were ushering them to their next event. Fabien lingered onstage to take a picture of the giant audience. People SWARMED to the stage, and Fabien was nice enough to sign one or two things that people were shoving up at him before he also had to leave.

I ended up having time to go to Fabien’s autograph session later that day. On the way, I saw that Matt’s line was ridiculously long again. Tom’s line was also huge, I think because he left early the day before, so people were all trying to get his autograph today.

When I arrived, Fabien was going on a break, so several of us early birds waited for him to come back. Fabien and Tom’s booths were next to each other, and we were able to see what Tom was doing. Tom seemed tired again but was still nice and friendly to all the fans. I’m 99% sure his girlfriend was sitting nearby. He definitely perked up when he paused to chat with her.

When Fabien came back from his break, fans in the lines for both actors started cheering for him. Tom also started cheering and clapping and going “whooooo!” It’s good to see that the HOTD cast really do like and have fun with each other. ❤️

Once it was my turn to get an autograph and selfie, I told Fabien that I enjoyed his performance at Rook’s Rest, and I named a few specific Cole moments (pre-battle speech, stumbling around afterwards looking traumatized). He seemed to really appreciate hearing that; I feel like he might get a lot of “I hate Criston but…” kind of comments.

My HOTD adventures today were more Fabien-centered, and I enjoyed it! From my brief interaction, I would say Fabien is friendly, sweet, and genuinely interested in fan interactions—although maybe a little nervous/scared about what people will say to his face.

TBH I’m tempted to write a Criston POV for my fic series. I got Fabien to autograph a print that his team provided, but it would’ve been nice to be able to have him autograph something more personal. I love it anyway!

Now I’m going to show off my GOT/HOTD merch!

Postcards:

Stained glass window cling print that looks gorgeous when it’s backlit:

Not GOT/HOTD-related, but I found out last minute that Naomi Novik, AKA Astolat, AKA one of the founders of AO3, was attending NYCC on Sunday to sign books. So I hightailed to that event. She signed my copy of her new book (including my AO3 username) and my Fanbinding pouch. 🥰 I told her how much I adore her writing and appreciate her contribution to fandom. She was lovely!!

That little squiggle she draws in the middle is a dragon doodle! For those who don’t know, Naomi’s first published book series was Temeraire, which is about the Napoleonic Wars but with dragons.

Later that day, I was shopping at a booth selling gorgeous headbands. Then I turned around, and there was Naomi again, shopping at the same booth!! She was off-duty doing her own thing, so I tried very hard to pretend I didn’t know who she was, even though I was fangirling inside. She really is a nerdy fan like the rest of us, enjoying her con experience. ❤️❤️❤️

Here’s one of the headbands I got:

All in all, a very successful and fun con! But now I desperately need to catch up on sleep and get back to my normal routine, so maybe I can resume writing. 🥲😴

[fandomwritingbit]

(bf's dad) william afton x (fem)reader pt.2!

WARNING: swearing/blasphemy. smut. oral sex (male) vaginal sex, age-gap, inappropriate relationship, guilt. sort of exhibitionism, sort of. 

NOTES: afab reader. After hiding her "session" her besie mate's Michael's dad, reader avoids them both for a couple of weeks. But Mr Afton catches her off guard in a shop shit goes down... Cameo from big tescos and another character crops up a bit later on too. 

Pt.1 here

It had been easy to move on from your night at Afton's...in practicality. You'd been able to physically leave William Afton at the door. After cleaning yourself up, post the mind-blowing sex, you'd look Mr Afton in his eyes and implored him to never mention this to Michael. He'd scoffed telling you that you'd needn't worry, his tenuous relationship with his son wouldn't be improved by bragging to him that he'd fucked you stupid against the side table in the living room. Still though, you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't engage in this inappropriate shagging again, even if the thought of his solid frame pinning you against the wall made your mouth fucking water.

And you'd stuck to it, of course not going over to Michael's again, shit not even speaking to Michael really. He'd come up to you at Uni the following day and the second his dark eyes locked on to yours - so like his father's - you were filled with guilt and the image of Mr Afton. And the worst part, you sort of enjoyed it. God, he'd asked you why you looked so tired that day, you nearly laughed: "Well mate, I'm knackered because last night when I came over to see you, your dad gave me the best fucking I’ve ever had and I stayed up all night reliving it over and over again.” Of course you didn’t really say that, you’d thought it though, so you’re pretty horrid. In reality, you’d quickly made up some excuse about staying up late doing your coursework and got the fuck out of dodge, avoiding your friend’s eye line all week. Then the week after.  And then today.

 ~

It was Tuesday evening, not that it mattered really, you were so run off with your feet with pissing work to do you weren’t really counting days: truth be told you’d almost put the whole situation out of your head. 

You’d think your local big Tesco would be quiet on a Tuesday night, but of course it wasn’t, there are fuckers everywhere, stocking up on alcohol most likely, you want to yourself but no, your budget certainly isn’t allowing that. You make your purchases as fast as the bloody queues will let you and head for the door. 

Stuck in your head as you’re leaving, you hear a crisp whistle - the kind that says ‘yoo-hoo’ as opposed to the wolf variety - and you turn, ready to tell some teenager to swivel. But no. Of course. OF FECKING COURSE. At the end of the aisle you see a chuckling Mr Afton slip just out of sight. The reminder that he existed and wasn’t just something you’d wank to, nearly made you double-take, you were close to just walking out and pretending you hadn’t seen him, but the man obligated you to approach when he re-emerged beckoning you over with a mouthed “Away, y/n.” So you went over, wrapped in a lovely blanket of nervousness.

Rounding the corner of the aisle to where he stood, you didn’t stop yourself from looking him up and down, yeah, he was still a good-looking bastard. You weren’t a jittery sort of person really, yet this man threw you so much on the back foot you couldn’t find anywhere to look. 

“I know it’s cliché: but fancy seeing you here.” He rested his elbows on the front bar of his trolley, bringing himself to your eye level, you’d forgotten what an impossibly tall fella he was. 6′6 at least, crazy in comparison to you or indeed anyone.

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond to him, eventually settling on:

“Yeah, believe me I did not expect to run into you.” You were smiling as you spoke, partially at your own embarrassment and at the stupidness of the situation - this is exactly the sort of thing that would happen to you, the universe must really have a grudge at your expense. He laughed at your curt response, the heat of your cheeks exposing your discomfort at this encounter.

“Charming. Am I really that bad? As far as I’m aware, we left on good terms.” He was teasing you, shaking his head as he spoke mockingly.

“We really did, sorry I’m just-” Just be fucking normal, you internally berate yourself, this really isn’t that shocking. “I don’t know... surprised to see you.”

He nodded, bringing the back of his thumb to his mouth as he considered your statement. There was something about silence when stood with this man that you couldn’t stand, it gave you time to think about last time: about his hands pulling you across that table by your ankles, the feel of his chest against your head as he pounded into you, good God. 

“I get that, sweetheart. Jesus, I hardly believe you’re real.” He laughed briefly before continuing, “When Michael talks about you now, I have to remind myself to behave.” The mention of Mike’s name made your eyes widen, you were lost in the effect Mr Afton had on you, it almost physically hurt to be slammed back into reality like that.

“Yeah, I can’t even look at him at the moment... He does this thing with his head as he listens to someone talking, like tilts it to the side. And you do exactly the same thing.” You looked down as you said the last part, unable to hide the slight smirk grazing your lips; seemingly knowing what you were referring to, he grinned. 

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding him then?” Yeah, mate, that really isn't the half of why you've been staying away from Mike. “He’s been complaining after you all week... to be honest I think he’s got a little crush on you.” Eyeing you up as he spoke, he watched you rub your arm in awkwardness, bloody hell you were a sweet sight to see. 

“I feel bad.” You somewhat explain, hands rising into a shrug. He moved closer to you slowly, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was about in the aisle behind the two of you, running his tongue between his lips before he spoke.

“Well...” he leaned down close to you and you gulped, the invasion of your personal space should have been unwelcomed, but it really wasn’t. Quite the opposite, you pressed your thighs together, the smell of him arousing you more than it should be possible. 

He continued; his voice low “Do you feel guilty ‘cos you did something wrong? Or because you enjoyed it?” You laughed, almost in disbelief that he said that and that when he did you felt butterflies like an idiot. Squaring up to him nearly, you kept your eyes anywhere but his as you replied shortly.

“Both. But also because I’d do again.” He was very bloody close to you now, unable to help himself once you’d said that. He felt his cock twitch against the fabric of his trousers, the idea of fucking you again driving him near crazy.

“Oh. Would you now?” His breath stroking the side of your neck as he talked. 

An old woman walking past the two of you towards the cereal aisle, reminded him of where he was and what he was doing: flirting hard with a lass half his age in a fucking Tesco, poor Ethel didn’t need to see this. He moved away from you and for a brief moment you forgot how to stand up on your own.

 Checking the time on his watch, he smiled to himself. “Did you walk here?” He asked innocently enough, somewhere subconsciously you must have been able to tell where this was going, but it hadn’t been brought into the light yet.

“Yeah. I don’t live far away.” Your eyebrows narrowed as you answered, the important part of your brain not up to speed or grasping the relevance of this question.

“It's late, I’m giving you a lift.” It was a statement not a question and you giggled at his blatant excuse to get you alone.

“Do I have a choice?” “Nah. it’s dark out. I think.” he said smirking, craning his neck to try and see over the aisle divides to a window. 

“They’re tinted windows, mate.” You laughed into the back of your hand. He nodded his head pulling a face that said, ‘yup I realise that...now’. 

“Alright.” he grinned, voice reeking of mock offence. “And how was I supposed to know that, you minx?” You shrugged, still grinning at him. “Anyway, my point stands.” 

“Isn’t this the same thing you did last time? Using my safety as a ploy to keep me around?” you enquired, doing your best to try and wind him up. It looked like it was working but in fact your cheekiness just made him want to pursue you more - he had exactly the same issue last time. 

“Yeah, and you bit then too.” He winked at you, before beginning to push his trolley out of the aisle. You shook your head, hating that it was this easy for him to make you want to follow him. For fuck’s sake you barely knew him! This was something they warned you about as a kid, really not a good idea to get in strange men’s cars, especially when they evidently have an ulterior motive: and yet you were still going to, weren’t you.

~

When he was done checking out, he met you at the door to the shop with his bag. And you follow him like a lamb to his car. It was dark and he smirked at you smugly, a mouthed “I told ya '' on his lips made you giggle as you got in his front seat. He joined you, seconds later, and that familiar feeling of nervousness crept up your spine as you were in the confined space with him. 

“Well, lovely. Where am I taking you?” He watched your face for reaction and you froze a bit, deer in headlights and all that.

“I should say: nowhere. And get out your car...” you think out loud, sitting up in your seat a bit, mock motioning to the door handle, which prompted him to press the lock button on the driver's side, rather dramatically, he just grinned, not even moving his gaze from you. Man, he’s something else, you think to yourself. Just blinking in response before you turned fully towards him in the seat, giggling mischievously.

“You’re kidnapping me?” you state, raising your eyebrows in feigned disapproval.

“I wouldn’t say that. It's more...” he paused thinking, half a smile on his face. “Smuggling. I’m not kidnapping you, just moving you from one place to another.” He ran a hand over the top of his head, chuckling, you really always had something to say. “

Ah that makes it okay then.” you say sarcastically, snickering at the look on his face. “But... stupidly I might ask if I can come to yours.” Your own audacity was really surprising you, not long-ago sharing floor with this man made you unable to string together a sentence; here you are now, a hair trigger away from saying ‘Oh aye mate, I’m after going to yours on the hope that you’ll shag the life out of me again.’ 

He didn’t say anything to you, just sniggered as he turned on his car and began making an exit. He’d really hoped that that would be your answer, God, he’d been banking on having you again, in truth there was a lot more he wanted to do to you, and he’d been thinking about it non-stop for the past fortnight.

~

The journey back to the Afton residence really wasn’t very long, only about 15 minutes due to the lack of traffic, the roads deader than that poor old Ethel in Tesco. As you began to recognise the familiar turn of the road, the stupid flitting butterflies came back; unlike last time this was a deliberate choice with the activity about to transpire on the table, in consequence you were practically buzzing with nerves just thinking about it. 

The time in between stopping the car, taking the keys and unlocking the door, and Mr Afton cornering you in his bedroom passed in a blur, maybe it was the nerves, more likely though the arousal. Let’s face it, all your cards were known and neither of you could wait much longer. 

You had so many comments to say about how boring his bedroom was, honestly it was like a showroom, no personality just bed, tv, drawers. It was very fucking clean too, you had a joke banging around in your head about his last encounter ending in a professional deep clean, but before you could demonstrate your comedic genius, your back was against the wall and his tongue was down your throat. You couldn't complain though, nor did you want to. 

There was just something about how he kissed you that knocked the air from your lungs and filled your pretty little head with cotton wool; it was embarrassing really and part of you sort of hated him for being able to do that. So, in true stubbornness you elect that this time the bastard’s not bettering you. Pulling yourself away from him, he grunts slightly at the lack of contact, his arousal evident in front of you.

“Where do you think you're going?” His voice thick with restraint, it was taking a lot for him not to grab you right now. But there was something about the mischievous glint in your eye that made him hold on - at least for now. 

“I hardly got to have a look last time. I’m doing it now.” you state, the ability to be clever gone. It was true, in your rush during your last meeting, you’d been too focused on yourself to get a proper gander at the bloke before you and there’s no time like the present. 

Though your face felt hotter than the sun, you find the courage to start undressing him, unable to glance at the snug expression leering down at you. 

“You just broke your own fucking clothes rule.” You couldn’t help but laugh, his voice was a bit too serious given what he was saying, but you suppose that’s understandable when you have what he’s thinking with in your hands. Moving to continue, he catches your arm. Clearly, he wasn’t joking about the rule because his hands are cold against your flesh, sliding under the fabric of your shirt, close enough to your waistband that your legs quiver slightly. Hooking the shirt, he pulls it from you, grinning at how your bravado had faltered a fair bit already and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Satisfied?” You ask, the grin on your face not nearly as brave as you wanted it. The way he was looking at your chest told you the answer already, he looked hungry, and the only thought bouncing around his brain was how crazy you were driving him.

Not letting him distract you too much, you slide your hands down his torso, eventually landing at his belt, which you soon pull free. With a hum of slight amusement from above you.

“God, you’re driving me fucking mental.” He half-moaned, breaking into a slight chuckle at the sight of you, it was disbelief. Honestly, he’d only popped out for some shopping.

Perhaps you’re enjoying playing with him a bit too much because before you can even get to your knees to take this ‘exploration’ further, you can feel your knickers clinging to your slick. You hadn’t even really seen it last time, he was big, almost intimidating, and for a moment you kneel looking at him, before slowly taking hold of his cock, smirking as you dare to look at his face.

Continuing with your agenda, you take the tip of his cock in your mouth and run your tongue over it, now able to taste the precum already there. The thought of him aroused just from seeing you at the shop made a pang of want chime through you.

As you became more confident with it, taking more of him, a firm hand grabbed hold of your hair - not guiding your movement exactly, but grounding himself. You weren’t able to take all of him, but you didn’t need to, your focus on his tip and simultaneous stroking with your hands was more than enough. 

The groaning above you almost made you want to smile in a kind of dirty victory, but you keep focused on your task. You were a bit too good at this and not wanting to... ‘over-exert himself’ too soon, he pulls your head away, quickly bringing you to your feet.

“Did I offend?” you ask as he turns you from him, biting kisses down your back whilst experienced hands pull your clothes from you. It didn’t pass you by that doing so was somewhat considerate, the marks he was leaving wouldn’t be seen by anyone else, they were personal. 

“Fuck, no.” he answered finally, through a smirk. He’d stripped you so fast it could have been a magic act and now you stood, naked, save for your panties. His fingers plied under the fabric and began toying with your abundance of wetness. God, you were fucking precious, your little mewls as he played with your clit, making his cock ache. Stiffening, as he changes the patterns he draws on your bundle of nerves, you feel the pressure of your high building, he was much too good at that. Pressing his fingers into your pussy from behind, your back arches involuntarily, the mix of his digits pulling slowly in and out of you and the mean biting kiss he burned into your hip was insane. 

And before long you were so desperate that you pulled away from him with the intention of enticing him to you. But you didn’t have to, he grabbed you and turned you to face him, so quick that you giggled in his rush. 

Letting him push you back onto the bed, you can’t manage to shift a stupid smile off your face.

“God, you’re fucking precious, you.” 

You’re laying on your back and he kneels between your legs, not wanting to mess around any longer. The sight of your wet little cunt was too damn tempting and slowly stroking himself he rubs the tip of his cock between your folds, spreading your slick and laying a blanket of anticipation at the pit of your stomach.

So many dirty words were on his lips but before he could say any of them the clear sound of the front door slamming made both your heads turn. You look at him with half a grin and look back to the door to hear the sound of heavy feet clumping up the stairs: Michael was home. 

Of course he fucking was, now of all times. Not 5 minutes earlier, not 5 minutes later, now. As his dad was teasing the dripping entrance of his best friend’s needy pussy. Both breathing heavily and fuming with his arrival.

You see the older man fold his lips between his teeth, an expression of unbelieving annoyance beginning to form. But you wanted it too much, and the idea of your mate being in his room was not enough to stop you raising your hips to feel William’s cock pressing against your hole. 

A voice above you, makes you look up. “You don’t care that Michael’s home?” he teases, letting you continue rubbing against the length of his cock, having to battle with the urge to shove into you, as he knew just how thin the walls were in this shit house.

You laugh a little, “I’ll be quiet...” you try, voice as sweet as the arousal between your legs. A sudden hand grips your hips, pulling you up with ease, the tip of his dick pressing just inside you, enough to make you gasp. 

“Not if I’m doing a good job, you won’t.” He laughs, thrusting halfway inside you, making you yelp in surprise, a hand flying to your own lips. “See?” He continues chuckling, but the feeling of your walls tight gripped around him, broke him down enough to thrust shallowly inside you. His hands holding your hips to keep you still whilst he did so, the image of your lip between your teeth testing his patience.

From in his adjacent bedroom, Michael’s head piques in doubt at what he was hearing, but the realisation of the low grunts of his father mixed with a steady whimper of a lass, made his jaw drop slightly in disgust and disbelief. He turns his tv up, trying to distract himself, shaking his head.  

“I-I don’t... he won’t know it’s me...” You begin, your persuasion interrupted by the moans he plucked from your lips. “He’ll think you’ve got some random lady in here.” And that was enough for him.

Sold.

He pressed himself fully inside you, setting a slow but tantalising pace, his cock deep and brushing that fucking amazing spot inside you, that made you whine.

You’re so close already, all his teasing had paid off, and you find yourself gripping at his forearms, eager to taste your climax. Your fluttering walls give you away and the man above you smirks as he presses his thumb to your clit, circling it, slamming you into orgasm sharpish. 

“Fuckin-” you start, lost in the pleasure that coursed through your veins. You felt so fucking tight around him like that, pulsing sporadically around his cock, fucking bliss. He groans, dragging your body forward, his hips rutting against yours, fucking you through your orgasm. Near addicted to it, he pulls you so far, your lower body completely off the bed, useless to do anything but accept the pace you were given which had become rough. The sound of the two of you was accompanied by skin slapping hard against skin, the lewd noise of your cunt taking what he gave you topping it all off. You were so fucked up already and couldn’t give less of a shit at that moment, only clawing at what parts of the man you could reach. 

From across the room your phone buzzes unnoticed. Messages from Michael, relaying the events that you already, but shouldn’t have known. ‘Can’t fucking believe it’ - ‘my dad’s got some lass over and I can hear everything 😭’

God, you wanted to fucking cum again, rolling your hips to meet William's thrusts, trying his restraint. You were like a vice around him and the moaning was taking him over the edge. As much as it pained him, he pulled himself from you, grinning at your almost instant,

“What are you-” 

He takes hold of you, picking you up from the bed and dragging you across the room, slamming your desperate body against a wall, your back to him. For a moment you’re confused, not exactly complaining, but confused. 

“If he can hear it... he might as well hear it all.” he grunts into the back of your head. You’re about to protest this, but it's lost in your head when he presses back into you rough, fucking you dumb from behind. Everything else was gone, except the want to feel this man cum inside you. You were close yourself and the laboured groan against your skin, pushed you closer to your edge. His pace was hard, but becoming more erratic and greedy against you, the thump of his chasing clear as day on the other side of the wall. 

“Fuck, I’m going to-” You didn’t really need to hear the rest, cutting him off with an eager plea for him to cum inside you. He presses you flush against the wall and you smash into your climax as he hits you just right, your flexing grip triggering his own. His pace stammers as he cums, each movement accented with a near animalistic grunt. Your eyes were wide at the feeling of his release inside you and beginning to trickle down the back of your leg.

He holds you there for a moment, before slowly pulling out, wanting to see just how pretty you looked with him dripping out of you. Turning to face him, you smirk, your face hot. 

Seeing him looking at you thoughtfully, your brow raises, 

“What?” 

“We’re not done.”

~

God, long one there! 

PS: sorry Michael, even I feel kinda bad about that lmao. 

[apprenticestanheight]

THE FIVE DAYS OF SMUTMAS QUEUE: DAY TWO

Work Shirts - Lawrence Gordon x gn! reader

All right!! This is day two of my silly little christmas celebration, and of course I had to do what I've been procrastinating since basically the start of this account--write a Lawrence reader insert piece!

I love him wholeheartedly despite my lack of fics for him so this has definitely been a long time coming, and this one, much like yesterdays fic, stems from a thought I had—though with this thought, @mrkheartffmans and I went a lil feral together through the reblogs of the original post and thus, the fic concept came to light!

This is also a few years post trap because I was like "yeah working somewhere for a decade is cool but what about a decade and a half??" also—my mentality was that having it set a few years post-trap would be easier to write?? I don't know how true that actually is but it was my thought process lol.

This fic is for audiences of 18+, so minors, do not interact!

Fic type- this is mostly--almost entirely--smut. There's also angst if you squint because yeah, angst was bound to be present somewhere lol

Warnings- unprotected sex (reader is on BC), and as per usual, the reader is GN for all intents and purposes (petnames included), but I went with AFAB anatomy as that's the anatomy that I know best.

Lawrence wishes he could act like the surprise on the faces of his coworkers when he mentioned having the last two weeks of December off came as a surprise to him, but he can't and he kind of hates that.

Of course people are bound to be a little surprised by it. In the decade and a half that he's worked at Angels of Mercy, the only incident where he took any sizeable amount of time off was while he was recovering from the bathroom trap and could hardly stand, let alone walk like he used to.

But, in the three years since the bathroom trap and aside from that month long period where he allowed himself to recover before going back to work, he'd not taken a single day away. Being at work, seeing to patients and talking to people—even just going to work and filling out miscellaneous paperwork while he sat in the isolation of his office—kept his mind busy and his hands busier.

He came home from work every night and saw you, which just made his entire day as it were. You'd order food or make something quick and just spend your time lounging on the couch, occasionally get a little flirty, and laugh when Lawrences hands started wandering how they used to in the days of your masters degree and his days of medical school.

But, because of a backlog of PTO and the fact that he'd been overworking himself almost to the bone with the onslaught of people needing medical care during the last three months of the year, Lawrence decided to book the 14th through to the 2nd of January off so that he could get some rest and worry about housework so that you didn't have to worry at all, where you normally split the housework fifty-fifty.

Lawrence knew that your marketing job got really, really stressful during the last month of the year. People always unearthed different versions of themselves come the holidays, and all he wanted was for you to come home from your workday and not have to worry about menial things like a messy bathroom counter, week-old leftovers in need of throwing away or dishes not yet moved from the dishwasher to the cupboards.

He gets called into work for an emergency on the 21st, and after running to grab groceries during the afternoon on the 22nd, he's delighted to find what he does waiting for him in the bed you share.

You're typically home from work at around seven, sometimes eight thirty on particularly busy days, and when Lawrence arrives home, it's half past eight.

He goes into your bedroom, having indeed hoped to see you there or at least get a call about work running late with the promise of more details upon your arrival at home as he enters your shared bedroom, but what he sees is so much better than anything he could've hoped for.

You're sitting on the bed, back pressed against the head board, focused on whatever romance book you'd plucked from a charity bookstore on your way home, but it's not what you're reading that Lawrence really takes note of.

No, it's not the book at all, though he does note that the title makes it seem like something from either the regency or the victorian era. It's what you're wearing.

You're wearing the shirt he wore to work the previous day, buttons undone with the cufflinks you'd gifted him for christmas the year his residency ended still holding the sleeves of the shirt together, the duvet covering your legs and hips, which makes Lawrence assume you've stolen a pair of his sweatpants in addition to the shirt.

He knocks, lightly, on the side of the door, and you startle, looking up to the source of the knock and relaxing the minute you see his face.

"You startled me," you say, grinning and closing your book over your thumb so as not to lose your place. "I remember you told me you'd be getting groceries around when I would get home, so I stole one of your shirts and settled in. Figured we could order Thai food or something to that effect, have a late dinner and relax."

Lawrence runs his tongue over his lips, notices the keen way with which you watch him do it.

"Yeah," he grins, further enters the room. "That sounds lovely. I grabbed the last of the necessary ingredients for dinner Christmas Day so that you wouldn't have to worry—I know that work has been something of a mess for you lately and I want to make sure you have the opportunity to relax when you come home."

He approaches the bed, watches you place the book you'd been reading open on your nightstand beneath the lamp.

"I don't deserve you," you laugh.

You've been dating since you were starting up with your masters a year after getting your bachelors degree when you were twenty-three and Lawrence was two years into medical school at twenty-four.

You've been married since you were twenty-five and twenty-six, and seventeen years down the line, you both knew that marrying each other was the best possible thing either of you could've done with regard to the romantic part of your lives, and while you were married you ended up doing the best possible things for your respective careers so it worked in both of your favors regardless.

You were Lawrences rock, especially so in the aftermath of the bathroom trap, and he was yours and would be such forevermore.

"You're right," he says, moving away from the bed to grab a pair of sweatpants. "You deserve more, but I do strive to be what you deserve day in and day out."

"Don't say that," you chide. "You're perfect, Lawrence. I wouldn't've married you had I thought otherwise, I promise."

He can feel your gaze on him as he slips out of the khaki pants he wears, deciding to go commando and put a pair of light gray sweatpants on for comfort. He changes out of the black button up he'd chosen to wear, pulls a baggy dark blue Henley over his torso and climbs into bed beside you, pressing kiss after kiss down the line of your jaw and across your neck.

"How stressful has work been?" He asks, tone genuine but also slightly seductive.

"Oh, so stressful," you laugh, knowing exactly what he's doing and the fact that seeing you in one of his shirts and just one of his shirts has spurred that on by a mile. "I think if I have to hear one more coworker complaining about last minute shopping during the last few days before Christmas Eve or even on Christmas Eve in and of itself, I will start causing heads to roll. December is the worst time to be in the offices because everyone stops caring about year-end quotas and making sure things are good going into next year and starts caring about whatever gossip is being spread around. It's dreadful, Lawrence."

He pauses, looking at you with genuine sympathy in his gaze. "I'm sorry—I feel gross. I didn't mean to attempt to proposition you for sex like that. I really do want to hear about your day and I'm sorry it's been so terrible, my love. Are you going to book time off?"

You grin. Lawrence is ever-so considerate, always apologizing and stepping back if he's done something in a way that he doesn't appreciate midway through.

"You're going to be stuck with me from tomorrow through to the second," you say. "And—for the record, I didn't hate it. I like it when you proposition me for sex with kisses because your kisses are quite honestly one of the best parts of being married to you. Plus, I have had a stressful month and I won't lie and say that my current outfitting was just for comfort. Sure, bare ass on satin sheets is an amazing feeling, but I was hoping that I'd get the reaction I did, admittedly."

Lawrence tilts his head inquisitively. "You're not—you're—I thought you'd taken a pair of my sweatpants," he grins, moves a hand to your thigh. Sure enough, it's bare. "Oh, Christmas must've come early."

You laugh. "You fuckin' wish," you say, ignoring the goosebumps that Lawrences touch brings on.

You unbutton the few buttons done up on the shirt, press your back against the headboard.

"Stressful month, yeah baby?" Lawrence is almost beaming as his hand moves from your thigh to your stomach, lazily perusing up your chest.

You clench your jaw, squeeze your arms against your sides because you are not going to give in to your handsome husband and his illustrious whims just with a few touches and some whispered sentiments.

"So stressful, Lawrence," you nod. "So, so stressful."

"Do you need a way to destress?" His thumb and first finger locate your nipple, and you exhale a breathy moan, quiet and already wanting to give in to his whims. "If you do, I think I could be of assistance."

"Lawrence," you moan, quiet and needy. "Oh, fuck, Lawrence."

Lawrence moves his hand away from you for a second, only to take off his shirt and the sweatpants he wears before he's back to kissing your neck and letting his hands roam across your chest.

A few minutes of much the same passes by, Lawrences kisses lining your neck and jawline and face and your ethereal lips while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. His hand dips to your folds for just a few minutes, taking your slick onto his fingers and laughing against your shoulder.

"You're so wet for me already," he says. "Fuck, you're perfect."

"Wanna ride you," you're almost stunned at how evenly the words fall from your lips but not at all stunned when Lawrence agrees.

He pulls you onto his lap, lets you grind against his half-hard cock until it's fully hard and you're begging to feel him inside of you and moans when you bottom out, gaze watching you intently as his hands settle on your hips.

"Lawrence," you whisper. "Fuck."

A smile spreads onto Lawrences face before he can stop it, and when you start riding him, he presses his back against the headboard, one hand on your hip while the other lightly holds your chin so as to keep your gaze on his.

You get lost in how good it feels within the space of a minute, maybe two—Lawrence's cock is long and thick, and even if riding it takes some adjusting occasionally, it still becomes very enjoyable very quickly.

"You're so wonderful for me, Y/N," he says. "Oh, this never gets old."

He's loving how you feel around him, clenching occasionally and moaning after a particularly deep thrust that hits your g-spot, and you're just—it's just perfect.

And then, Lawrence gets an idea. He moves the hand that's cupping your face to your wrist, which is attached to the hand that you use to grope relentlessly at yourself, rolling your nipples between your thumb and first finger, sometimes moving to rub your clit.

"The cufflinks, baby," he says. "Don't touch yourself, mm? Use those for me."

He watches you press the cold silver cufflink against one of your nipples, moans as you clench around him at the sensation of the cold meeting your warm skin. You moan in turn, pressing the metal against your nipples and moaning his name.

He moves a hand back to your chin, placing his first and middle finger against your bottom lip. You take the hint immediately and bring his fingers into your mouth, grinding down onto him as you do.

"You're so good for me, pet," he says, moving the hand that rests on your hip to your clit. He starts rubbing it with practiced expertise, knowing the way you like it best after nearly two decades of marriage. "Oh, this is amazing. You can steal my work shirts whenever you want, okay? Especially the ones with the cufflinks. You're amazing."

You moan at the praise, pressing the cufflinks against yourself further, loving the way that the metal feels against your sensitive nipples.

He takes his fingers out of your mouth and goes back to holding your chin so as to keep your gaze on his, wanting to watch you orgasm.

You come completely undone when Lawrence speeds up his ministrations on your clit just enough to make you want more, and Lawrence watches.

You thrust your way through the aftershocks, at which point Lawrence releases into you and lets your chin free from his light grip, kissing you and offering praise as he does.

He pulls you off of him and gets a bath set up, helping you into it while giving you more praise and pressing kisses along the back of your neck and shoulder blades because the orgasm had left you both completely and totally breathless.

You bathe in light conversation, once again talking about your days but focusing on the more positive parts, and Lawrence lets you steal a Henley from the days of medical school. You pull a pair of boxers on and curl up in bed next to him, falling asleep only seconds before Lawrence does.

[moriartyluver]

ARE YOU MINE CHAPTER III

"FIFTY QUID FOR A CUP OF COFFEE?!”

"Keep your fucking voice down, Sherly!" (Name) whisper-yelled at the noirette "We didn't come here to drink the stupid overpriced coffee anyways." 

It was a Monday afternoon, about 4 ish now, and (Name), as well as her fellow band mates, had the bright idea to go to an expensive coffee shop in central London. 

So here they were, in an exclusive coffee shop full of white men in suits or stressed out secretaries, and the occasional rich women hanging out. 

"Kopi Luwak.." James muttered "What even is that..? It's so damn expensive..."

"Bet you could still afford it with those sugar daddies of yours," Sherlock remarked before (Name) kicked his leg under the table to shut him up 

Obviously they weren't here without reason. (Namen had seen a TikTok talking about all the places to find a rich boyfriend, which she wasn't really interested in, but she decided that because coffee shops usually were full of businessmen around this time of day, it would be a perfect place to find themselves a rich manager. 

John took out his phone, Googling the expensive coffee, before showing James and Sherlock who sat opposite in the little booth with wide eyes. 

"It's made of what?!" James exclaimed 

"You guys didn't know that?" (Name) raised an eyebrow 

"What and you did?" Sherlock mimicked "No wonder..you're always picking up random facts." 

"Why would they drink that crap in the first place anyways?" James asked, looking through the Wikipedia article on John's phone. "Like why do they need a weird cat raccoon thing to eat the coffee cherries and then take their poop for the coffee..?"

"It more because of processing rather than the actual crap that comes out." (Name) said "Hey what if I order a large cup of plain coffee and then get some extra cups for free so we don't look stupid while also not spending a shit ton on coffee either?" 

"Good idea, I'm not paying." Sherlock said bluntly 

"Fucking cheapskate." (Name) rolled her eyes "I have enough to buy a cup but it's like twenty quid for a large cup...I'll make sure to get as many sugar packets as possible, okay?" She said, standing up to go order at the counter. Everyone nodded, prompting (name) to leave. 

As she waited in the queue, a man carrying three cups on coffee as well as a few biscuits and cakes in little boxes. His arms were full and he was clearly struggling to keep everything together, not to mention, he looked exhausted! 

With the current rush in the coffee shop, it wasn't really that surprising, but based on the man's appearance, he did seem to be quite the wealthy businessman. She could see the little Cartier watch on his wrist and his suit was clearly expensive. 

Another, likely wealthy, businessman and walked right by him, ruining the balance of items and causing the brown haired gentleman to drop his coffee cups. (Name), who's attention was turned away for a moment as she moved along in the queue, turned around as if she had spidey sense or something. 

Before they could hit the ground though, (name), who was stood fairly close, managed to catch it all in time, almost comically. 

'How the fuck did I manage that..?'

'How on earth did she manage that..?'

"Yikes .." (Name) chuckled awkwardly, "that was a close one" she said, handing the items to him with a small smile. She looked up and met eyes with the stranger, her mind racing back to the other day. 

"You're.." The green eyed man muttered to himself, recognising her as the girl Herder knew of as (Name) 

"I see my reputation really does precede me.." She hummed "The world really is small, huh?" 

"it is indeed," Albert smiled "I've heard..great..things about you and your band." 

(name) blinked in surprise "Really? because I'd expect that Mr Von Herder would paint me out as some sort of war criminal..hah.." her eyes drifted back to the rest of the band in their little booth "I'm assuming he told you about my little musical ambitions.." she said as Sherlock mouthed a 'the fuck are you doing?' to her  

"He did," Albert confirmed with a nod, then looked to his watch on his wrist, cursing under his breath "Deepest apologies, but I must be going..my brothers are waiting for me." He said, somehow retrieve it a business card from his pocket and handing it to a dumbfounded (Name) before taking off. 

Her eyes scanned the card. 

Albert J. Moriarty 

'What a fancy name..' 

(Name) eventually came back as planned, the business card in the pocket of her jacket, and a large cup of black coffee, a few empty cups and a lot of sugar packets. 

"So, were you just eyefucking that rich guy or am I high?" Sherlock asked, right before (name) kicked him in the shin. "Ow!" 

"I wasn't.." she raised her eyebrows, moving her eyes around in a strange manner, conscious of  the members of polite society around them "you know..you lot couldn't hear me, but rich guy was at Herder's the other day, and I just happened to remember him while he was about to drop all his stuff and have a big dramatic disaster." She said, sitting down beside Sherlock, opposite James, who looked anxious to say something. 

"Anyways," (Name) continued with a grin. "He gave me this." She slid the business card onto the middle of the table, recreating that one scene from 'American Psycho' "mission: find potential manager is a success!"  

John picked it up, inspecting it closely, then put it back on the fancy table "this is legit! The card and the font and everything, it looks like a real rich guy business card." 

"I don't think I've ever heard you say legit before." Sherlock said "also how do you know so much about business cards?" 

"A lot of old guys think I'm gay." 

"Moving on," James said, giving John a little side eye before allowing a wide smile to creep up onto his already cheerful face "I have some news~" 

"You're starting an onlyfans?" (Name) asked 

"No-" James scrunched up his nose, looking offended "I, your extraordinary bassist, got us a gig." 

"You did?!" (Name) exclaimed "Are you for real?!" 

"I did indeed," he said smugly, leaning back in the plush seat  "It's a birthday party-" 

"I knew there was gonna be a catch," (Name) sighed, resting her forehead against the table as Sherlock gave her a sympathetic pat on the back. 

James shook his head "it's not a kid's party, don't worry. The birthday girl's turning 18 and she wanted the party to be like a concert I guess, so she wants us to do a hunch of Arctic monkeys covers instead of the usual stuff," he explained 

"If she wanted a concert, then why doesn't she just go to one?" Sherlock groaned 

(Name) lifted her head up "in what universe would the Arctic monkeys play at a birthday party full of kids? Besides, they're not on tour in the uk anymore, so it's not like she could go to a concert for her birthday either." She said "I mean, it's fine as long as the songs she picks out are good...I don't wanna have to play any of the TikTok famous ones anymore." 

"She seems like the type to like every song, but the list I've got is a bit of a mix," James said, pulling out his phone, reading off his notes app "Teddy picker, Bet you look good on the dance floor, cigarette smoke..stuff like that." 

"Well that's bearable then," (name) nodded "When's the party?" 

"Uhhh.." James trailed off nervously "Friday.." 

"Oh, next Fridays alright, a bit soon, but we can manage," she said, brushing away her hair from her face 

"I mean, this Friday..like in four days.." The blond sank into his chair, bracing himself for (Name)'s reaction. 

"What?" She blinked "Are you fucking shitting me?" 

"It'll be fine, (name)," Sherlock reassured, dragging his words  "you always work best under pressure anyways." 

"Yeah well you lot clearly fucking don't." (Name) glared at her friend beside her, then sighed deeply "Okay, this is fine. We'll have to start practicing all the songs immediately, it should be fine considering we've done most of them already," she muttered to herself "The band t-shirts I ordered should be here by Wednesday..we'll be fine..we'll be fine." 

The noirette groaned "see, you're freaking out over nothing."

"As usual." James added. 

(Name) rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee. "As the band leader, I'm the one who needs to be in charge of things until we get a manager, that means I have the right to freak out over this shit." 

"Who made you band leader?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow. 

(Name) scoffed "you think you would do any better? I literally just got us a potential rich manager just by being pretty and memorable. Besides, I'm the leader singer  and guitarist, and the only girl and we all know girls are much more mature than you xy chromosome havers." she said, putting a hand to her chest. 

"She has a point." John agreed 

"Shut up, John." Sherlock kicked him beneath the table. He turned to (name) "So are we gonna start practicing today or..?" 

"I don't know, do you want to sound like shit or..?" (Name) mimicked. "Of course we'll practice today, we don't have that much time, stupid." she said, standing up "We need to make use of the next 100 or so hours we have left." 

"You calculated it?" James asked

She rolled her eyes again "Obviously." 

"I literally have nothing to wear, James, I'm freaking the fuck out," (Name) spoke to her phone, propped up on her desk as she walked around the room "I mean I'm not much of a party goer, so obviously I'm not gonna have party clothes, but I thought, maybe I'd have something!" 

James sighed, his face filling the screen on (name)'s phone as they FaceTimed. "Just put on one of those shirts and a pair of bootcut jeans and you're done." He suggested as she dug through her wardrobe. 

"No, I need something wow, you know. Something that'll make an impression." She said, pulling something out from the hangers. A cheetah print coat. "Perfect." 

"What is it?" James called out to her 

"I just so happened to find this old thing," she said, going back to her phone and showing him the jacket "If anything I own screams arctic monkeys, this definitely does." 

"Ohh..that is clever. You put on some red lipstick and a pair of boots and you're done, might as well change your name to arabella." James smiled before returning to his mirror to apply some eyeliner. "Do you think sherly and John would be ready by now?" 

(Name) rolled her eyes as she's looked for a pair of jeans/black skirt to wear with band t shirt she had got and a pair of black boots, putting her phone down so James could only see her cieling while she changed. "Knowing sherly, he's probably asleep or something. I swear if he didn't wear that outfit I planned for him, I'll beat his ass." 

"Yeah, he really suits that whole emo boy look, I think it's the hair." James agreed as (name) propped her phone back up once she was done. "I'd bring some eyeliner and eyeshadow just in case be does use the cheap stuff you lent him." 

"I'd be surprised if he even managed to open the makeup at all by himself, he's so incompetent." She sat down, quickly putting on her makeup, messing it up on purpose

James laughed "Well at least he can play guitar, half decently." He said "Hey you think I should look through my 2020 alt stuff, see what I can salvage?" 

"God no." (Name) advised. "Unless you plan on getting tomato's thrown at you the entire gig." 

"Yeah you're right," the blond admitted "those boots have outgrown me anyways since I started taking hormones." He said, putting down his eyeliner. "You done yet?" 

"Mhm." 

"Gimme a spin, we need to mutually agree on your cuntiness." James said, his voice going up a couple octaves. 

(Name) snorted in amusement, backing away once she'd finished so he could see her full frame, twirling around, kicking her leg up to the back of her knee as she posed, eliciting a few cheers and 'yas queen slay!'s  (Obviously not in a serious sense) from James. He even took a few screen shots so he could post them on his Instagram story after the 'concert'. 

"Alright. I'm gonna hang up now,so I can get going." She said eventually, thumb hovering over the 'end call' button. "Call sherly and tell him to be at john's in like Ten minutes ish. He's driving us, Yknow." 

"Yeah cool." James said, fixing up his smudged eyeliner, emphasising those bright blue eyes of his. "I'll remind him of your little murder threats, too if you want." 

"Alright, see you later." (Name) chuckled hanging up. 

"Look who's not an hour late," (name) called out her friend as she saw him approaching johns house just as she was about to knock on the door. 

"Look who isn't an hour early," Sherlock retorted. His deep blue eyes landed on a little waggon beside her feet. "Is that..?" 

"My guitar and amp? Yeah, it is." She looked at sherlocks own equipment on his old skateboard "I'm assuming we had a similar idea, just different executions. Just goes to show why I'm smarter than you." 

"Tell that to your exam results." He spat 

(Name) scoffed "as if yours are any better." 

"Bitch." 

"Druggie." 

"Punk." 

"Emo." 

Sherlock gasped dramatically "I am not an emo!" 

"Well either that or your zesty," (name) smirked "I mean, with that hair, you definitely have tried a little more than most." 

"I'll have you know I've only ever been attracted to p-" Sherlock was cut off by the door opening, revealing John and James at the door. 

"There you two are!" John beamed. He looked his usual self, but instead of his usual dull jumper, he wore a black t shirt with the words 'Baker Street boys' in a thick white font, just like the other members, except Sherlock was wearing a pair of baggy dark jeans with an embroidered skull to match his skull ring, (name) was..slaying, to put it simply and James was wearing a pair of pair of straight legged jeans, covered in rhinstones to match the glitter on his eyes. 

"Alright, we all ready? We need to hurry if we wanna get there on time." James said, exiting the door to walk towards johns old car. "Put your stuff in the back and we'll get going." 

"Didnt you say we'd be going to one of those rich neighbourhoods?" (Name) asked, putting her guitar in the boot of the car carefully. 

"Yeah," James nodded, opening the door to the passenger seat "The kids turning 18, so her parents let her do whatever the fuck she wanted. One of those new money types, you know." 

"That explains the money we're getting then." Sherlock said, shutting the door to the boot "If we can get more of their little rich friends to hire us for a parties or something, we'll be rich in no time." 

"Which will only happen if we don't play like shit." (Name) said harshly as she put on her seatbelt "You guys remember the song list?" 

"Considering we've been playing it non stop since Monday, yes, yes we do." James peaked behind his seat to look at her. He looked at Sherlock sat beside her. "You need to get your make up done before we start playing." 

"It's not my fault that shits so difficult." Sherlock groaned, folding his pale arms over his chest "Cant we just do it before we start playing?" 

(Name) sighed "you really are incompetent, arent you?" 

"At least my parents love me." 

"Are you the band?" A girl, about 19 or 20, asked the four at the door. 

(Name) held up her red guitar "obviously." She said "Where should we set up?" 

"Follow me," the girl said, guiding them through the large house to a big hall "There's only a few people here, you're lucky you arrived early." She explained while the band dragged their equipment in there. "You can set up in here, get the band stuff out that car, and you can start playing when there's like more people or whatever. The birthday girl's with her friends right now, but she'll come in here soon." 

"Alright, thanks." James murmured as she walked away "god this place is fucking huge." He said, turning to (Name) who was busy plugging her amp in

"I hate rich people." She whispered to him "Bet they have a pool or like a cinema room or some shit...Wonder how they could afford all this." She turned to Sherlock who had a blank expression "go help John get his drums in, dude." Sherlock rolled his eyes, walking out and dumping his guitar on the floor. 

"Her dad's an mp and her mums like a model, vogue and everything," James said, setting up his bass guitar 

(Name) narrowed her eyes at him as she put the mic down "how do you know that?" 

James chuckled nervously "err..google?" 

"Whatever." She said, turning her attention to Sherlock and John who were bringing in the drums. "Hurry up, I heard some cars pulling up out there. We still have a couple of things to do." 

"Actually we're pretty much done after we put these instruments in place," John said matter of factly then paused "oh wait, Sherlock needs to do his Makeup." 

"You're making me sound like a girl." Sherlock glared "I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. (Name), can't you help me out?” He begged with a whiney voice. 

“Sit down.” She said, pointing to the drummers stool before pulling out her makeup bag, kneeling before him. “Close your eyes.” She said, applying dark blue eyeshadow on the centre of sherlocks eyelids, surrounding it with glittery black eyeshadow on the edges. She took out an eyeliner pencil, asking Sherlock to open his eyes again and look up while she applied it to his waterline, smudging it slightly. 

“Done.” She held up her pocket mirror to his face. He took it, looking at his eyes slowly. “You look like Effy stonem if she was a guy.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sherlock said, shutting the motto and handing it back to (name) who was putting away her makeup. “Thanks.” He said reluctantly. 

“Don’t mention it.” (Name) stood up, checking the mic to make sure it was working correctly. 

John peaked outside the open entrance, looking down the hall to see a storm of teenagers, mostly 17 and 18. He turned to the band, sitting down by his drums “ready?” 

“Barely.” (Name) groaned, watching the crowd gradually form while someone switched off the lights. She could smell the faint stench of alcohol flood the air, along with the scent of body odour and..was that weed..? 

“PST,” someone hissed from the side of the makeshift stage. It was the girl from earlier, the birthday girl’s older sister. “Hurry up, these kids are waiting.” She whispered 

(Name) ran a hand through her (hair colour) hair, messing it up on purpose as she picked up her guitar, leaning forward to the mic in front of her. 

(Quick A/N: this is the first song btw, super good, please listen to it.) 

It made a loud noise before she spoke. “Um..we’re the Baker Street boys,” she said nervously “Happy birthday,” she shut her eyes trying to remember the name 

“Tabitha, happy birthday Tabitha.” She repeats. “My name’s (Name), f-from the Baker Street boys, here with Sherlock,” cue a few giggles at his name “James, and our drummer, John.” She hesitantly smiled. “And this is ‘I bet that you look good on the dance floor, by the Arctic Monkeys, which is funny because uh..we’re doing only arctic monkeys covers today, haha.” 

Crickets. 

“A-Anyways, make some noise, or whatever.” She muttered as she took a deep breath, strumming her guitar while John started drumming. “Stop making the eyes at me, and I’ll stop making the eyes at you.” Her voice had cracked mid line in a whine, but somehow she had pulled it off, sparking a few of the sweaty teenagers to start singing along, despite it not being a typical TikTok song. 

“What it is that surprises me is that I don’t really want you to,” she sang, gripping the mic with one song whilst the rest of the band played in the background. 

Surprisingly or not, (name) was stiff, lacking any stage presence she may have previously had while she attempted to sing and play at the same time. She couldn’t believe she was thinking this, but thank god Sherlock was there as the backup guitarist. 

“And your shoulders are frozen,” She continued, slowly getting more confident 

“Cold as the night!” 

At least the others managed to remember to do back up vocals. 

“Oh but you’re an explosion!” (Name) had slowly begun to realise the rawness in her voice actually made this particular cover sound fairly good, and with the encouragement of those around her, the confidence had started to settle in. 

“You’re dynamite!” 

“Your name isn’t Rio but I don’t care for sand and lighting the fuse might result in a bang b-b-bang-oh!” She sang, fingers pointed in a gun while the other strummed at the guitar strapped over her chest “I bet that you look good on the dance floor, I don’t know if you’re looking for romance or, I don’t know what you’re looking for! I said I bet that you look good on the dance floor, dancing to electro pop like a robot from 1984, well from 1984!”  

“I wish that you’d stop ignoring me because it’s sending me to despair. Without a sound, yeah you’re calling me, and I don’t think it’s very fair,” she raised her voice slightly as she tried to sing over the increasingly loud crowd before her, her body much less stiff than when she started. She continued with the chorus, earning a few cheers as the band played better with each passing second. 

“Well from 1984..!” She almost panted, losing breath as she strained her vocal chords “Oh, there ain't no love, no Montagues or Capulets, Just banging tunes and DJ sets and dirty dance floors and dreams of naughtiness” 

While she sang that particular line, a face popped into her head, or rather the face. What was the posh blond man doing in her thoughts while she was screaming her lungs out singing some indie rock song? 

“Well I bet that you look good on the dance floor! I don’t know if you’re looking for romance or what, I don’t know what you’re looking for!!” Frankly, she doubted she would ever see him again, as upsetting as that seemed. Not like she had much of a chance though. “I said, I bet that you look good on the dance floor,” it would be funny, a smart guy with a rockstar wannabe like her “d-dancing to electro-pop like a robot from 1984,” She did want to see him again though…but he was probably an apparition or something, that explained why he looked so angelic. No. She had to see him again some day.

“Said from 1984!”

A/N: I wonder what will happen next >:). I’m so sorry for those who are only reading for Liam, I promise he’s gonna make another appearances in like a couple of chapters. Also this arc is kinda inspired by the Pistols series so watch that because it’s so good. Off topic but I got a cat and he’s so cute but also looks like Alex turner it’s hilarious.

[jurijyuu]

Scratch an Itch Chapter 35: Heartbreak is one thing, my Ego's another

Link to AO3 for full chapter

Alastor’s POV

He didn’t need her.

Bzzzt.

Her quick comebacks to his puns, her hesitant chuckles at his cruelty. Those things didn’t matter.

Click. Click.

Obsessed. Obsessed. Obsessed! How far did he let himself fall? And for what? The imaginary scrapes of her teeth? The warm brush of her shoulders when she leaned against him? Was he really so tempted by anything she would deem to give him? Hah! Hahaha! He was the Radio Demon for Hell’s sake! To let himself want? To let himself ache so pathetically for a smidge of attention? It was all so beneath him and maybe he could give himself a pass. Nothing had ever been so fun as the pursuit of something that made his mind tingle alight. Wasn’t that why he was down here instead of up there? When all that surrounded him was mediocrity and villainy, who could fault him for pursuing his few interests.

But where he was with Ynna, the pining, pathetic, weak, disorganized. Out of control. That was no longer interesting. A waste of time he could be using to further his influence.

He didn’t need her.

Click. POP!

Static crackled in his veins, angry and denied. A mass of whispers beckoned him for revenge, retribution, blood spilt from hapless sinners. For soft eyes filled with boundless affection. Fuck!

The power that rose with his bloodlust dissipated, as his mind unhelpfully provided reason after reason for why the goat could never leave his side. And he loathed it. Out of control, indeed.

“Hey chat, so many of you have been telling me to try this place out and man, looks like we got a long ass line. Fucking lameee. Chat, is this gonna be worth it?” An obnoxiously loud voice broke him out of the pit where his mind dwelled. A male sinner with a sharp voice spoke into a lapel microphone as he watched his phone. He had no regard for the others around him who inched away from his camera, rolling their eyes at the overly loud prattle. 

It was only then that he’d noticed the change in scenery, the evidence of his distraction adding more to his exasperation. No longer was he on a quiet road, void of all those who’d been too fearful of his presence, but rather, he found himself on a bustling street corner staring at a queue for a shop. Oh? Now what could that be? A quick scan through the crowd observed the line composed of mostly, what did Rosie call them again? Influencers. Yes. That’s the word. Their little sticks and tripods held phones and cameras recording some inane and uninspired commentary on what appeared to be—Oh? His brow raised in curiosity. The line was for the cafe with the rotten beignets.

“Radio Demon recommended? Ooohh are y’all for real? Skitzle, where’d you hear that from? Oh scootpoot43 thanks for the subs! Yeah? Happy birthday, I guess.” The clueless buffoon chattered on and on.

Recommended? A snort, undignified but befitting his current mood, made its way out of him. Since when had he thought this dump deserved any recognition other than to have it burned to the ground? Not to mention that there hadn’t been time to do a proper broadcast since, well…Brows drawn, his head swayed in an effort to shake those thoughts away. Really. Just how much of his recent memory did that woman occupy? When every corner and every street held the image of them in friendlier times. Even his last broadcast had been because of her. Agitation of a self-deprecating nature soared in his chest. He had to get a hold of himself, to remind his obsessive nature that there was more to his existence than whatever the goat could bear to swallow and keep.

Flitting his attention between sinners, he discreetly tried to catch some of their babble. It became clear that the cretin who’d been so graciously spared from his claws by his goat mistook their mercy for encouragement. He mentally sighed. This was why sinners needed to be put in their place. The ones who made it down here were usually of the scheming sort. Or stupid and violent. But using his name to gain recognition? Did that poor excuse for a manager take him so lightly or was he just that desperate to earn a profit? Either way, the disrespect would not be tolerated.

A few of those screen-obsessed eyes finally noticed the Overlord in their presence and their immediate screams of desperation to scram brought the rest of the oblivious herd to panic, clearing the queue in a matter of seconds. Ah. Something bubbled in the depths of his chest that brushed aside his ire, a familiar sense of sadistic glee that energized his nerves. It was always a pleasure to see the roaches scramble. 

Right. This was who he was, a terror not to be trifled with, an absolute power within this wretched city. The mere sight of him inspired fear and awe. Long before any of this nonsense of being eaten, the obsession for her companionship, the maddening whispers plaguing his chest when she’d not even bothered to glance his way. Long before any of that, he was the Radio Demon. Power thrummed within his veins, strumming giddy sensations within his body. Innocent bloodlust, untainted by his goat. This had nothing to do with her and it made the call for retribution that much more enticing. Yes. This had absolutely nothing to do with her.

Some braver souls kept recording though unfortunately for them, only blurred and glitching pixels would be their foolish reward.

The bell above the door chimed with the clack of his shoes punctuating his arrival. His grin widened as the red-shelled face paled at his entrance. For using his name without permission, he gladly thought to set the record straight.

[headfullofpresley]

Paper Rings

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: Your boyfriend surprises you with tickets to a Taylor Swift show. And then some.

Word count: 6,6K

Warning(s): modern!Elvis, kindergarten teacher!Elvis (only mentioned briefly lol but i'm soft), no covid so therefor the Lover Fest tour exists, mentions/appearance of miss Swift herself obv, fluff, use of pet names, smut; oral (m. receiving), vaginal penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, getting caught (kinda??).

Author's note: i hate this now that i've proofread it but oh well :'). enjoy luvvies <3

masterlist

Elvis had been awake since dawn, trying not to have a mental breakdown at the sound of his alarm screeching through the bedroom at the ungodly hour he had set it at the night before. It was his day off from work seeing it was Saturday, but he had a job planned for today that was so much more hellish than having to deal with screaming children at 8 in the morning on a week day.

To the toddlers in his class he was a God, he could actually handle them and they’d hang on to his every word.

But he knew people on the internet were ruthless. Especially when it came down to scoring tickets for Taylor Swift’s newly announced tour. He would much rather be doing anything else, preferred to be covered in paint by dozens of tiny hands and run back and forth whenever the kids in his classroom would call his name every five seconds. Or you know… sleep a few more hours.

But he wasn’t doing this for himself – he was doing it for you, his girlfriend of two years. Your birthday was in three months and when you nearly screamed his ear off when your favorite singer announced her tour, he knew he just had to get these tickets for you. He didn’t tell you about his plans though and made up the excuse that Jerry was celebrating his birthday on the same day Taylor performed in Memphis. Seeing Jerry’s birthday was indeed somewhere in the same month, you didn't question it.

You were pouty about it, but accepted the fact that you wouldn’t be able to see the blonde singer in the flesh this tour. You didn’t have enough money to travel to another city just for a concert, so unfortunately there wasn’t much you could do. You tried to hide your disappointment as much as you could, but Elvis saw right through you, which only made him more determined to get these tickets. He hated seeing you sad, even when you’d try to hide it from him.

He did not have to get up as early as he did since the sale wouldn’t go online until 11, but he was scared that he wouldn’t wake up in time and would have to watch his surprise for you pour down the drain. You had been staying over at your friend’s house last night, so today truly was the perfect day to do this since he knew you probably wouldn’t get home until noon.

You liked sleeping in just as much as he did.

He took a long shower to wake himself up before he fixed himself a quick breakfast, turning on his laptop that was placed on the dining table. There was literally no use to take position for the cold war he was about to step into, but he was nervous. This was the perfect gift for you and he would be damned if he would fail.

How hard could it really be? He was confident enough to admit that he could handle a couple of excited teenagers and twenty somethings over the internet.

But boy, was he wrong.

As the clock creeped closer to 11, he had Ticketmaster open on both his laptop and phone. He made a second account on the website, in hopes that would give him an advantage of getting the tickets he needed.

“What? Are you kidding me?” he mumbled to himself as he got flung right into the waiting queue as the tickets went online, not even giving him a chance to pick the tickets that he wanted. No, that he needed.

He grasped his phone from the table, quickly refreshing the page on it before he clicked on a date that was a few days later than the Memphis show in a nearby city. Once more, he was placed in the queue.

“C’mon, c’mon, please...” he begged at his laptop as he saw how slow the waiting process was going. He was pretty sure a lot of people were in the exact same position he was in right now – he didn’t care, though.

They were only slowing his process down even more.

The urge to refresh the page was big, but he didn’t. He shouldn’t. It would throw him right back at the end of the line. He was growing more impatient and even a little frustrated. He didn’t even listen to Taylor Swift himself other than when you’d blast it through the house and sure, some of her songs were good, but was it really worth waiting in front of a damned computer for this long? He had been sitting here for 20 minutes already.

If it wasn’t for you, he would’ve clicked out long ago.

Hell, he would still be sleeping.

He got up from his seat and grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the corner of the table, wanting to step out onto the balcony of your shared apartment for a smoke until he saw the page on his laptop loading and jumping to the next screen. He sat back down so fast he almost lost his balance, throwing the cigarettes back on the table as he looked at his screen.

“Fuck! No!” he exclaimed in frustration as the website let him know the Memphis show was completely sold out. He ran his hands through his hair as he groaned, flipping his screen off.

God, he looked like an idiot.

“Fuck you, Ticketmaster. Fuckin’ scammin’ assholes,”

He grabbed his phone again, letting out a laugh in disbelief as he saw the Nashville show was sold out as well. His hands were starting to get sweaty, his nerves never fading as he started looking at other dates of the tour. He didn’t care if they were far away, didn’t care about the fact that it would cost him a lot more if he’d buy tickets in a city that was across the country.

His eye landed on a few Los Angeles dates. He must’ve refreshed the page for thirty minutes, not caring that it kept telling him there weren’t any tickets available.

Sold out. Sold out. Sold out.

He still had hope, though. Still praying and wishing, begging to get some good karma back into his life.

He was a good son, a good boyfriend and a good neighbor.

He deserved these tickets.

You deserved these tickets.

He nearly screamed when he saw two tickets pop up for one of the LA shows after refreshing the page for about ten more times. He didn’t even care on what date the show was or that it was 1615 miles away from Memphis.

They were actually good seats, and expensive as hell, but he managed to get them. He figured someone must’ve waited too long before they checked out their purchase and he was glad that he waited.

One man's misery is another man's fortune.

 

Three months had passed and he actually managed to keep the concert a surprise for you. It worked out well, maybe even better, since the show he got tickets for was in the same month as your birthday. He planned to keep you in the dark about seeing Taylor until you’d get to the venue, but he did tell you where you two were going when he mentioned the trip he booked for a long weekend.

He told you it was for your birthday and you couldn’t be more excited. You barely left Memphis, only went to other cities in Tennessee to visit family every now and then, and you had always wanted to go to LA. You had no idea Elvis had more than one surprise up his sleeve.

 

“C’mon, El. We’re in Los Angeles, the city of angels,” you preached to your boyfriend as you stood by the end of the bed, which your boyfriend was currently hogging as he laid in the middle of it, in your hotel room.

“It’s only nine. We’re young, we should be out there and getting drunk!” you pointed at the window, to the bustling city below you, in hopes your point would come across better.

It was Friday night and you wanted to go out and explore the city more since the two of you arrived late last night. You had been out and about all day, but everyone knew big cities were more exciting at night. You had no idea why Elvis was refusing to go out tonight, because he had seemed just as excited about this weekend as you were.

“Baby, I’m tired. My feet are killin’ me,” he lied with a small pout, hoping you’d give in to his cuteness and crawl into bed with him. He opened his arms as he smiled sweetly at you, but you just sighed and crossed your arms as you walked over to the window to look out of it.

Such a drama queen, he thought.

“Tomorrow we’ll go out,” he told you as he kicked the blankets off of him, slipping his arms around your waist as he stood behind you. He leaned his chin on your shoulder, turning his head to kiss your jaw. “I already have a whole day planned for us, but you don’t want to waste sunlight because you have a hangover, do ya?”

You puff out a sigh again and leaned back in his embrace as you nodded. You knew he was right. You wouldn’t go home until Monday afternoon, so you still had enough time to go out and party like you usually barely did. Sundays were better for hangovers, anyways.

“Fine,” you grinned as you turned your head to look at him, stealing a kiss. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

“It’s a surprise, for your birthday. The only thing you need to worry your pretty little head about is what you’ll be wearing,”

“Casual? Formal? I need to knew these things,” you snapped your fingers at him playfully and he laughed as he grabbed your hands and brought them back down.

“Casual… chic?” he suggested with a chuckle, knowing you liked to dress up whenever you went out. “Fancy, but not too fancy. Oh, and don’t wear heels. You’ll be standing and dancing a lot,”

You raised your eyebrows at him, trying to think of what he had planned. Honestly, the only thing you could think of was a club or a bar, or something in that direction. Taylor’s show that was tomorrow never popped into your mind, because you knew it was sold out faster than you could blink.

“I like dancing so I’ll forgive you for tonight,” you joked, looking out of the window again. While you did want to go out and see more of the city right now, you weren’t actually mad at him.

As long as he was with you, you didn’t really care what the two of you were doing or where you were.

“I need a little more convincing. I think you’re still mad,” he grinned against your skin as he kissed his way down to your neck, his hands releasing yours to wander up your stomach and to your chest. You knew the words he spoke were a joke, but his actions were definitely not.

“I thought you were tired?”

He laughed softly as he walked backwards, tugging you along to the bed. He spun you around in his arms and grabbed your chin, grinning down at you.

“Never too tired for this, you know that,” he stole one more kiss before he had you on your back on the soft mattress, hovering above you before you had time to protest.

Not that you were planning to. You never told him ‘no’ and if you did, it was very rare. And getting lost in a sea of sheets with your boyfriend couldn’t compare to the nightlife Los Angeles had to offer.

 

You and Elvis slept until noon the next day, because after getting a noise complaint from the people in the next room, you two decided to raid the mini bar. No major hangovers slowing you down, thank God. You felt better after getting some food in you, not giving Elvis the chance to tell you ‘I told you so’.

“Why do I have to wear that? It’ll ruin my make-up,” you whined as you looked at the sleeping mask that was dangling from his fingertips. You just came out of the restaurant you had an early dinner at, because Elvis insisted you needed to eat enough for tonight’s activity, and you were starting to get nervous.

You could handle the elements of surprises but blindfolded?

Rather not.

“Babe, put ‘em on,” he told you as he took a step closer to you, placing the elastic of the mask over your head before you could protest. You gasped as you widened your eyes at him, trying to grab his hands when he pulled the mask over your eyes but he swatted them away every time. You were sure people were looking at you two as if you were complete idiots, but then again, this was LA. Nobody probably cared.

“Don’t be so stubborn and just follow me,” he whispered in your ear as he wrapped one arm around your shoulder, taking your hand in his. “You trust me, don’t ya, little?”

You shivered at his warm breath tickling at the shell of your ear and sighed softly as he kissed it. You nodded your head, slowly walking forward with his guidance. You did trust him and you doubted this surprise would be anything bad or crazy, so you really had no other choice than to put your faith in his hands.

You were quite proud of yourself for not completely freaking out or losing your shit – after walking for what seemed like forever, you were placed in an Uber with your boyfriend next to you. He was too busy talking to the driver about God knows what and you kept trying to sneak your hand up to the mask to lift it and look out the window to see where you were. Elvis noticed every time though, lacing your fingers together with his, trapping you. You huffed in annoyance, pouting as you sat there in the backseat, feeling like you were being kidnapped.

Which you were, in a way. Only willingly and with lots of reassuring kisses from Elvis.

 

You heart skipped a beat as the car came to a stop, nerves intensifying tenfold when Elvis helped you get out of the car and said his goodbyes to the driver. You weren’t in the right mind to do the same, squeezing his hand which earned you a deep laugh from his side. You felt him move behind you and place his hands on your shoulders, his voice right next to your ear as he spoke.

“You can take ‘em off now, Lover,”

You frowned slightly underneath the mask, thinking the pet name was weird. Formal, almost. He had never in your relationship called you that.

You didn’t need to be told twice though – as you pulled off the mask and blinked a few times to let your eyes get used to the light again, you noticed the huge banner that was plastered on the SoFi Stadium.

Taylor Swift – Lover Fest Tour

You stood there. You stood there and stared without speaking a word.

Now Elvis was getting nervous, afraid that he made a mistake. Afraid that this isn’t what you wanted. He was even starting to doubt if this was your favorite artist at all, despite the amount of records you had at home or the fact that he knew the names of every single one of Taylor’s cats because you wouldn’t shut up about the celebrity.

He even listened to her music on his way to work for the past months so he could remember the lyrics and sing along with you, not wanting to seem like a fool in a sea full of die hard fans.

But when you turned around and he saw the tears in your eyes, his nerves faded away completely. A small huff escaped his mouth as you practically jumped in his arms, squeezing the air out of his lungs with your firm embrace.

“Oh my God, I love you,” you cried in excitement.

“Only because of this?” he grinned teasingly as he looked at you when you pulled back to look at him.

“What? No! I love you, always always always,” you giggled as you grabbed his face, kissing him all over. He grabbed your hands as he laughed, looking at you.

“I love you too, little. You deserve it,” he told you, pecking your lips as he slipped his hands in yours. “You’ve been so busy with work and everythin’, I couldn’t let you miss this,”

“Thank you so much, baby. You’re the best, you know that?” you sighed happily as you squeezed his hands, stealing another kiss. “How did you even manage to get tickets? It was sold out in minutes,”

He grinned as he let go of one of your hands, swinging his arm over your shoulder to take you to the back of the queue. He raised his chin, smug smirk sitting on his face.

“You know, I got my ways,” he looked at you as you laughed, slapping his chest softly before you wrapped your arm around his waist, hugging into his side. “And you just said it, didn’t ya? I’m the best,”

You rolled your eyes, but allowed him to bathe in the size of his ego. As long as it wouldn’t drown him, you thought it was rather attractive.

 

“Y/N, now you’re takin’ it too far,” Elvis told you as his shoulders slumped on purpose as you pointed at a t-shirt at the merch stand. You had just bought one for yourself and Elvis was about to drag you away from the goodies until you spotted the shirts for males. He had already seen them but hoped you wouldn’t.

“Why? You’ll only have to wear it tonight!” you laughed as you wiggled your eyebrows at him, pointing out the shirt to the employee.

“Exactly, a waste of money. Let’s get a drink and find our seats,” he told you but you stopped listening. You took the shirt the girl handed to you and held it in front of him, smiling brightly as it seemed it was the right size. You turned back to the girl as you took your wallet out of your purse and Elvis sighed, knowing that he couldn’t stop you.

As he looked around, his eyes met those of another guy who was obviously here with his girlfriend. The redhead next to him was all dressed up – cat ears and glitter on her face and the whole shebang. Just like him, his girl had him dressed in a tour shirt. A baby pink and blue one.

At least you gave him a white one and you weren’t dressed up like a cat. Could be hot, but not outside of the bedroom.

He gave the guy a sympathetic nod before he turned back to you, taking the shirt you handed to him to pull it over his head.

As long as you were happy, he was too. And right now, you were all smiles as excitement basically oozed out of you. He already forgot about the shirt and didn’t give a damn about what anyone would think, not even Jerry who you were definitely sending the picture that you just took to.

 

You were happy that Elvis told you not to wear heels, because as soon as Taylor appeared on the stage and the show started, you were up and out of your seat to move to the music. Elvis was standing as well, arm hung lazily around your waist as he sipped on his beer, ever the supportive boyfriend.

He didn’t recognize every song but the ones that he did know, he sang along to. It warmed your heart and he could see it made you happy, especially when he’d sing the lyrics of the sweet songs to you.

You were over the moon. There was not a single worry on your mind. No work stress weighed you down and despite this not being the music he listened to, Elvis felt the same. There was something magical about concerts, about an artist connecting with their fans through music. And although some girls were dressed up all silly and too much for his taste, the vibes in the venue were perfect.

He immediately recognized the song Paper Rings and he downed his beer, throwing the empty cup on his seat. You were too occupied with cheering and singing, not noticing he took a small box out of his pocket.

“I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want

In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

Oh, you're the one I want,”

You turned to him to sing the lyrics to him and that’s when you noticed he was down on one knee, the ring sparkling in the lights as he held it out to you in the box. You gasped as you widened your eyes, hiding your mouth behind your hands. His actions caught the eye of the people around you as well and they were all watching in both excitement and anticipation.

You two even caught the attention of Taylor herself, since you were on the second row. Not only did you have a perfect view of her, she had one of you and your boyfriend as well.

She laughed in excitement while she sang, pointing at you and Elvis so everyone would look at you two. You hadn’t noticed the camera that was pointing into your direction as well, or the fact that you were currently on the huge screen, showing your boyfriend’s proposal to the entire stadium.

Elvis wasn’t aware either, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t care if there were thousands of people around them, or just you and him. He loved you more than life itself and had been planning this before he even got the tickets – he knew this would garantuee him a definite yes, though.

He didn’t even have to stay the words, because you were already nodding and screaming your answer. As he slipped the ring around your finger and he stood up to kiss you, he did ask you again. Just because he wanted to hear you say it again.

“Will you marry me, little?”

You cried as you nodded, kissing his lips.

“Yes! Thousand times yes!” you yelled above the music, laughing as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him as tight as you possibly could.

“She said yes!” Taylor yelled excitedly into the mic as she looked at you two, clapping her hands. You nearly died as she blew you a kiss and Elvis laughed as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, smiling at Taylor before he attacked your face with kisses.

The rest of the show you and Elvis danced and your heart skipped a beat every time he sang along, his head right next to yours as you were still in his arms. You loved and appreciated him so much and you already had a few ideas of how to properly thank him.

You were ready to leave as soon as the show was over, but before you and Elvis could leave your seats, a blonde middle aged woman approached you two.

You immediately recognized her as Taylor’s mom and almost had a heart attack on the spot, though you had enough self control not to scream in her face. When she asked you two to come backstage because her daughter wanted to meet you, Elvis had to do the talking because you were starstruck.

“We would love to, mrs. Swift,” he smiled politely at her as he held onto your hand, tugging you along to follow her to the backstage area. You could barely speak and Elvis couldn’t stop laughing at you, pulling you into his side to talk in your ear.

“Please don’t scream in her face, baby. Just hold my hand and you’ll be all right, hmm?” he whispered and all you could do was nod, inhaling a deep breath through your nose to blow it back out. It did nothing to calm you down.

The three of you stopped walking as you reached Taylor’s dressing room and once the door opened and the blonde that you had been admiring from the crowd came over to you with her arms wide open, you squeezed Elvis’ hand firmly before you quickly let go and wrapped your arms around Taylor.

The singer was absolutely wonderful to you and your boyfriend. She congratulated you on your engagement, which you were still trying to wrap your head around, and she signed anything you asked her to. She signed Elvis’ shirt as well, which you were definitely going to tease him with later because he seemed rather happy about it.

His music taste was on the complete different spectrum – mostly punk and rock bands that you forgot half of the names of.

The louder, the better, he always said.

But he always accepted your taste just as you did his. Neither of you would mock each other’s music and you freely let him play whatever he wanted through the house. Perhaps it was only something simple, something normal for a couple to not be assholes to each other, but to you and Elvis it was a sort of respect. Music meant a lot to the both of you and just because he didn’t know every Taylor Swift song by heart, didn’t mean he wasn’t secretly excited to meet her face to face.

After talking some more and taking pictures, you and Elvis left the dressing room and got escorted to the exit by Taylor’s mother again. The woman seemed to be trusting of you two, or just busy, because she said goodbye before you and your boyfriend actually left the building.

The backstage area was just as huge as the venue itself and it seemed like your boyfriend had other plans than leaving. He tugged you away from the exit door and laughed softly as he placed a finger against his lips, pulling you along through the long hall ways. You squealed softly as he dipped into a room, taking you right along with him.

It was an empty green room that hadn’t been used you came to realize as Elvis turned on the lights and locked the door from the inside. If anyone had a key, which you were sure everyone that worked here did, they could open the door from the outside. Elvis didn’t give you a chance to unlock the door and walk out, pulling you into his chest as he grabbed your hands.

“Elvis! We can’t do this!” you whispered with a giggle, trying to ignore his hands that were now snaking around your waist and slipping down to squeeze your ass.

“Why? Nobody is here,” he grinned mischievously as he leaned in to kiss your lips. His lips were so plumb and soft that you couldn’t resist him. You never could.

“We don’t live in this city, anyways. What’re they gonna do? Kick us out?”

You wanted to protest once more, tell him that you and him should move this to your hotel room, but the words died on your tongue as he kissed his way down to your neck, sucking on that little sensitive spot underneath your ear. That’s when you turned to putty in his hands and he damn well knew it.

“S-someone.. m-might hear..” you managed to whisper, your words coming out stuttered. His lips and tongue against your warm skin was distracting you too much, so even though you voiced out your worries, you couldn’t get yourself to really care if someone would hear or not.

You were aware that this green room was a risky place to have sex. Especially because the artist that just performed at the stadium was still freaking present somewhere down the hall, but as he lifted you up and put you down on the couch, you were already too far gone. It wasn’t the first time you two fooled around outside the comfort of your own home, but for some reason it felt even more exciting in a place like this.

You were sure the green room had been used for worse things.

Elvis didn’t stop you when you pushed him back and got on your knees in front of him, quick fingers working on his pants. There was a hint of surprise in his eyes though and you didn’t miss it.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you told him in hushed voice, your eyes meeting his as you gave him the sweetest smile you were capable of.

“Oh? And why’s that, huh?”

He already knew the answer, he just loved hearing it.

“I was proposed to and met Taylor fucking Swift in one night,” you grinned at him as you pulled his zipper down, fingertips hooking underneath the elastic of his boxershorts. “And I like the taste of your cock,”

He lifted his hips up a little, allowing you to pull his pants and underwear down to his thighs, groaning softly as you immediately wrapped your hand around him. “Good enough for me,”

You raised an eyebrow at the smirk he wore on his face – so confident and cocky.

Once you brought your hand up to caress your thumb over the head of his cock before you brought it back down again, the cockiness was smacked right off of his face as he parted his lips, a soft moan rolling off his tongue. He tangled his fingers in your hair to keep it out of your face as you took him in your mouth.

Usually, you’d take your time when giving him head but you were aware that you didn’t have all the time in the world and you weren’t leaving this room before he fucked you.

“Shit,” he groaned softly as you looked up at him when you brought your head back up, tongue tracing the most prominent vein on his cock before you lapped it around his sensitive tip. “Do that again,” he told you as his teeth sunk into his lower lip, half lidded eyes watching you as you repeated the action. When you grinned up at him, he let out a moan and threw his head back on the couch.

He tried to be quiet, he really did, but as you got sloppier and sucking him off like it was the last time you’d ever do so, he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. His hips were bucking up to try and follow your mouth every time you moved up and he threw his arm over his face, biting down on the short sleeve of his shirt.

“Fuckfuckfuck, s-stop,” he gasped as he felt his orgasm nearing, looking down at you as he caressed some hair out of your face when he took his fingers out of it. He was just as eager as you were and while you loved having him come undone in your mouth, you moved fast as you got up and pulled your denim skirt up, slipping your panties down.

“G-God… Hold s-still for a second,” he groaned as you sank down onto him, his hands grabbing your hips to keep you in place so he could get used to being inside of you.

He was sensitive and you were just so tight and warm.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him. He immediately slipped his tongue inside of your mouth, deepening the kiss and you didn’t move until you felt his hands moving down to your ass, squeezing the flesh in his palms. You knew it was one of his signs that he was ready for it.

You moaned into his mouth as you moved onto him, immediately at a steady pace. You were sure your ass would have his hands imprinted on them with how hard he was squeezing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care – the slight sting mixed deliciously with your pleasure.

“F-faster baby,” he whispered as he pulled back from the kiss, leaning back as his hands moved up to your clothed breasts, squeezing them softly through the fabric of your shirt. It didn’t do much for you since you still had another top on underneath the tour shirt you bought together, but you didn’t stop him. Instead you did as he told you and moved faster, moaning shamelessly as you chased your own high.

He moved one hand down in between your bodies, fingertips having no issues with finding your clit as he started rubbing it with skilled movements. He knew just what you liked and knew that this would get you where he wanted you faster – your nails dug into his shoulders as you moaned a little louder, your eyes meeting his.

He gave you a small smile. It looked sweet and innocent, not matching the pace of his fingers and your thrusts at all.

You smiled back at him, moving your hands to his chest and right on top of Taylor’s face that was printed on his shirt.

You didn’t need an extra pair of eyes watching the small sin you were committing.

“I’m close, so close, baby,” you grunted as you clenched your fingers in his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Thighs shaking, walls convulsing erratically around his length.

A smark remark laid heavy on his tongue, something along the lines of you ruining his autographed shirt, but he swallowed the words as he came undone not long after you did. He removed his fingers from your clit and held onto your hips, holding you still as a deep moan escaped his throat, hips stuttering up into you a little.

You ran your fingers through his hair before you collapsed on top of him, both of you catching your breath as he was going soft inside of you.

“I love you, little,” he hummed in your ear as he kissed your cheek and you slowly lifted your head off his shoulder, smiling at him as you caressed the back of his neck with your nails. The way he shivered made you giggle. “I love you more, babe,”

He was only seconds away from protesting, telling you that simply was not possible, but he was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. You both widened your eyes at each other, panic settling in your stomach as you got up as quick as you could. You pulled some tissues out of the box that stood on the small coffee table in front of the couch and cleaned some of his cum that was dripping down your thighs, shoving the tissues to the bottom of the trash can by the door.

“Someone in here?” A deep male’s voice barked from the other side of the door and you and Elvis quickly got decent. Just as you pulled your skirt down and smoothed out your hair, a key was stuck in the keyhole of the door to turn the lock but Elvis swung the door open before the person on the other side could.

A broad shouldered security guy stood in front of you, looking angry as he stared you down. “Passes,” he simply said, holding his hand out.

You grabbed Elvis’ arm and Elvis scratched the back of his head, his other hand feeling his pockets as he gave the guy an awkward smile. He was looking for something neither of you were in possession of and while he had been so confident and careless at the start of this, he was starting to panic now too.

He was pretty sure you could get arrested for something like this. And that was not how he wanted this night to end – although it would make for a funny story to tell your future children and grandchildren.

He had absolutely no idea what to do or what excuse to use, but like an angel fluttering down from Heaven itself, Taylor and entourage walked down the hall way, on their way to leave the stadium. The security guard was currently having a go at you and your boyfriend and you were close to tears until Elvis nudged your arm and nodded his head in Taylor’s direction.

“Is there a problem here?” she asked as she appeared next to the man in front of you, her question aimed more at him than at you and Elvis.

You slipped your hand in Elvis’, sucking in a deep breath of air and keeping it in your lungs. The man didn’t waste time in explaining what happened and how he assumed that you and Elvis had done… something inside the room.

Taylor wasn’t an idiot – she saw the hickey in your neck and the flush on your cheeks. The both of you also completely forgot about the hint of red lipstick that was stained on Elvis’ lips.

“That’s a serious accusation to make, isn’t it? I know these two and I’m positive that the thing you’re accusing them of is simply not true,” the singer spoke confidently as she crossed her arms, smiling as she looked at you. “I’m sure they just lost their way back here,”

You and Elvis widened your eyes, nodding your heads.

“Y-yeah, that’s it. It’s so big back here, we got lost on our way to the exit,”

“Huge place. Very cool, though! You must love your job,” Elvis squeezed your hand firmly to get you to stop talking and you immediately did, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Taylor laughed softly, nodding as the security guard started apologizing, a shade of crimson creeping up his neck.

“It’s alright. Just try not to judge people so quick, hm?” she told him, patting his shoulder as she nodded her head while starting to walk away. You could see her mother laughing softly at the two of you and Elvis quickly pulled you along, following the others out of the venue.

You talked with Taylor for a little bit, apologizing for not leaving the building after you exchanged your first goodbyes but she could only laugh about it.

You probably wouldn’t have survived if she would’ve been angry with you. Elvis was thankful that she was as nice as you always told him – he really was not looking forward to going back to the hotel with his girlfriend being completely inconsolable.

 

“Did you have a good time, beautiful?” Elvis asked as you both sat in the back of an Uber after you both came down from the crazy events of the evening. You leaned into him and looked up, placing a kiss on his chin as you smiled.

“The best, because you were there,” you whispered, sprawling out your fingers that were in his lap. “Anywhere I go with my fiancé is fun,”

He laughed softly as he looked down at your hand, caressing his thumb over the ring he put on you tonight. He couldn’t stop smiling, kissing your temple. “You like the ring?”

“I love it,” you told him as you looked at it, lacing your fingers with his. “But you know I’d marry you with or without a diamond,”

“Even with paper rings?” he grinned and you looked back at him, laughing softly.

You leaned in, softly pressing your lips against his.

“Especially with paper rings,”

[zippy-reacts]

Sonic the Comic Liveblog: Issue 85

I am now immensly jealous of some kids from thirty-or-so years ago. I wonder if any of those jackets are still around?

(Also assuming I don't change the queue scheduling, this is being posted on the 23rd, so happy birthday Sonic!

What an outfit. Smoking jacket, bright-ass shoes, and a very impractical looking cane

First sentence this guy has spoken and he's already iconic

Yeah, defininitely sounds like important information to give in advance. Also, this is a very random to bring this up now, I know, but I wonder if anyone has ever made dubs of StC with British accents. I mean, I literally live in the UK and I'm struggling to hear anything other than these character's American voice actors when I read dialouge

When Omni was first introduced he was treated like a god but now a holding cell twarts him lmao

StC hasn't really been subtle at all so far so I'm expecting this guy to turn out to be evil BUT I would love it if this guy was a bit like Mihawk from One Piece where he's just a dramatic goth who's really committed to the aesthetic

Well, turns out he is indeed evil, but perhaps more importantly, stupid.

Got a couple of thoughts so here's them all in quick bullet points:

Really nice art on that first panel.

Interesting way to depict Super's teeth though

It is so funny the entire mansion just fucking exploded without him so much as lifting a finger

Top-tier expression

Jerkyl and Hyde thing going on, nice, cool to see even the side characters are going along with the horror theme

This panel is pretty funny in it's own right in terms of timing with the previous panel but uhh… choosing to make the laser beams or whatever piss yellow also makes it hilarious in an unintended way

I don't really like the way these comic depict Sonic's quills from the back but I do gotta acknowledge and applaud the effort that went into shading them here.

OHH I really really like how Sonic is drawn in this panel. The perfect mix of cute and badass

I think the joke here might be that Frink is a made-up word because I CANNOT find any definition for it other than a few Urban Dictionary entries that I don't think quite fit

Anyway back to Knuckles. Between now and writing last issue's liveblog it occurred to me that this whole story is reference to The Wicker Man (1973), right down to the inn having the same name. Very interesting choice of reference though, I imagine that film is a bit before the time of the kids who would be reading these comics.

I should probably also mention that while I've read a plot summary, I actually haven't watched Wicker Man myself. I don't really like horror movies but maybe I might give that one a shot sometime.

The Archie comics may have microwaved Knuckles in his egg but it looks like StC is gonna roast him in one!! 👈👈😎

Also I do love how in the following panel the villagers response to this is "lmao do you really think Robotnik gives a shit?"

There were two stories with Tails and Shortfuse. I have no comments for either one.

Well, even if I think the recent Tails stories have been boring as hell, I'm glad some kid out there enjoyed them.

[gravessyard]

Walking Remedy

Notes from the crypt: surprise shawtyyyy! bet you were expecting something from the queue but it was me! with a piece! when I first started this piece it had around 2k words and at the time I was pleased with it. Well, I returned to it earlier this evening and decided that I was indeed not pleased with it and then bulked it tf up to 5k words. Eat up babes <3

Tags: GN!Reader, lots of lore, angst with a happy ending, mentions of death, slow burn maybe?

Summary: You danced a little too closely with death after acquiring your unique gift, and revelations are made.

 You stared blankly at the assortment of innocent looking foods in front of you; healthy servings of onigiri, Sakura tempura and rice cake soup. Thoma sat across from you with an open notebook, pen waiting to note down your results as he stared at you expectantly. Ayato sat beside him, sipping his boba drink loudly as he also stared, expression unreadable. The tension in the air ran a shiver up your spine, even though the estate was the safest location you could stay in, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were under the piercing gazes of predators on the hunt. The silence dragged on while you thought back to how you even got roped into doing this kind of thing in the first place;

 

Being friends with the traveler opened many doors in your adventuring career. As a resident of Sumeru, your hunger for knowledge was what drove you to learn more about the other nations in Teyvat alongside their cultures and people. As someone who grew up in the rainforests with the rangers however, you often hungered for the strange plants you came across in the wilds, it was a habit you unintentionally picked up from a long eared old friend. That habit ended up becoming your greatest weapon after many arduous years of trial and error, much to the dismay of your ranger friends. Many times, you almost faced death only to be pulled by its clutches thanks to Tighnari and his quick thinking, yet even as he scolded you to high Celestia, nothing could stop you from rushing headfirst back into danger for the sake of knowledge. At the near cost of your friend’s sanity, you ended up either blessed or pitied by the gods as you grew an immunity to the poisons you consumed, but that simply fueled your desire to go out and learn more. Your travels first began in the city of contracts, as it was the chasm you entered when you left Gandharva Ville, the vast destruction was both intimidating and appealing to you. You only managed to make it out alive by being miraculously found by a Millileth soldier, who was quite shocked to see you wandering aimlessly around while shoving Qinxing flowers in your mouth. You were escorted into the city that you ended up spending a few months in, becoming acquainted to its people, culture, and food thanks to the soldier who found you, and eventually welcomed you into his home. Having a roommate who was native to the lands helped immensely in your studies, as he had maps of the region and connections to people if you had any questions he could not answer. To this day you still keep in touch with him, even after the countless times he had to drag your hallucinating ass to Baizhu in tears when you ate something that would most definitely kill someone who lacked your gift.

 

By the time the traveler had made their way into Liyue for the Rite of Descension, you had memorized every plant that was and was not safe to consume. It was what first introduced you to the traveler and Paimon, who were in the wilds of Guilin Plains searching for plants and berries to eat. Like a true forest ranger would, you graced them with your knowledge and a friendship blossomed. You joined their adventure not long after, being their guide into the city where the Rite of Descension took its wild turn. Before the turn of events, Liyue felt like a second home to you, with its many characters and personalities. You were good friends with Hu Tao, who caught wind of your strange gift and insisted you visit her at the funeral parlor so she can feed you many “strange and mysterious” plants that you ended up easily naming anyway. From her, you were acquainted to Zhongli, who was more than concerned that you were allowing his boss to eagerly feed you plants that are known to be poisonous, but he quickly became curious and intrigued when you explained that you can consume them without harm because its literally what you do, you eat dangerous stuff to study them and somehow gained immunity. Zhongli couldn’t help his intrusive thought one day when he invited you out to tea at Third Round Knockout, pushing a cup that was previously poured towards you. You made a show of sipping at the tea, immediately picking up the poison it was laced with and in the next second your head slumped against the table, shocking not only Zhongli but the other patrons at the tavern. The older man was by your side in an instant, hand on your shoulder and your name on the tip of his tongue before he saw you shake with laughter. Zhongli went through a flurry of emotions but was relieved when he saw how happy your little prank made you. In the end, you both agreed that there was no malicious intent, and you even gave him a small lesson on the type of poison he tried to use. From Zhongli you met Childe, who you were a little on the fence about since he was associated with the Fatui, so you never went further than an acquaintance relationship with him, even after he tried to subtly get closer to you. You ended up having to threaten him with poisoning *his* food since you were a walking encyclopedia of death, and you knew exactly what can’t be detected by the tastebuds if baked into a delicious pastry that you just so happen to have with you. You walked away oblivious to how much you turned him on with that threat.

 

Your relationships following the events of the Rite of Passing went all kinds of ways. Your relationship with Hu Tao was the one that suffered the least, the only damage was your lack of appearance since you were with the traveler fighting battles and facing gods. Through the quest you learned that Zhongli was actually the “deceased” Archon of Geo and you may or may not had dipped to gather your thoughts, having been overwhelmed with the revelation. It was a lot to think that Liyue’s archon was dead when in reality he was your friend who played a poison prank on you and listened intently when you were giving him extensive lessons on the various poisons Liyue offered and their symptoms. You were starting to wonder if maybe all the years of eating deadly plants was starting to take an effect on you when Zhongli, the ever so wise, sat beside you. The traveler and Paimon were only starting to notice your absence before you and your former archon friend reappeared with an air of reassurance between you both. Childe’s relationship with you was what suffered the most, you practically cut him out of your life and ignored his existence after the fight at Golden House and him summoning Osial, the scariest ocean monster you’ve ever seen, and had the displeasure of fighting. You still remember breaking his nose at the city gate, furious tears rolling down your cheeks as you screamed at him over his fuckup, not giving him a chance to speak as you described the sheer terror you felt of having to face something that monstrous, thinking that you were going to die without having fulfilled your dream. You never gave him a chance to apologize after you reminded him that he was the one who made you feel all of that, and with a final empty threat, you walked back into the city to join the traveler into the next chapter of their adventure. Your tears were easily brushed off as tears of missing your friends, which was a half-truth anyway as you hugged your two closest friends and bid them a farewell, promising to return and visit.

 

On the Alcor, the traveler talked to you about their time in the city of freedom. You listened intently as they talked about their battle with Dvalin, the friends they made along the way and how the city really has a different feel than Liyue. You couldn’t help but ask about the flora of the nation, which they sheepishly admit they weren’t paying too much attention to anything that wasn’t a sweet flower or mint. Arriving in Ritou started your next adventure, one that really tested your desire for knowledge as it took a few months before the shackles of Inazuma were released. You knew the nation was closed off, but after being told you can also get a travel’s permit with the traveler to ensure you don’t get kicked out, you knew it was a deal you couldn’t pass up. You forgot to read the fine print that was you’d later have to fight tooth and nail against the nation’s archon to free them from their oppression and only then, can you freely roam to eat your stinkin’ plants. In those months, while your first focus was to help the traveler find a way to meet with the archon, you still managed to sneak in late night sessions of flora eating. You apologized many nights for waking the traveler up with your incessant note taking, furiously writing down your new studies, new entries that you can’t wait to relay to Tighnari. Like the traveler, you became quick friends with Thoma, the handsome housekeeper of the Yashiro Commission. His good looks were so effective you forgot to inform him that you’re here to study poisonous plants, so when he came across you one night hunched like a gremlin and about to shove another plant in your mouth, one he knows is deadly, you felt like you were a guilty dog being scolded.

 

“[Name]…. what’s in your mouth—NO DON’T CHEW FASTER, SPIT IT OUT RIGHT NOW”, his screaming caused you to choke, only furthering his panic and he nearly broke your ribs while performing the Heimlich on you. That night you became acquainted with the Kamisato siblings, since Thoma manhandled you to them so you can get the best medical care. It was quite embarrassing to explain to a half asleep Ayaka and Ayato that no, you were not currently dying, yes you did eat a deadly plant but if someone can tell Thoma to stop panicking then you can explain why you weren’t actively dying. Ayaka was still a little confused, Thoma’s vibes were rubbing off on her and she wanted to insist that you still get care, but Ayato had an amused smile on his face, why are all the men on this island handsome? By sunrise, you had a clean bill of health and was in the middle of your life story with the trio, hot cups of tea in their hands and mixed expressions on their faces. Thoma looked the most intrigued, asking questions here and there, Ayaka looked horrified, her hand never strayed too far from her chest as she clutched her fake pearls, Ayato’s expression was the one you had the most trouble reading. He seemed intrigued, but it also seemed as if he was studying you himself, pulling some strings in his mind and forming a plan of how to keep you forever, it wouldn’t be bad for the Yashiro Commission to have a personal poison tester after all. Your friendship with the Kamisatos only grew from there, being invited to outings or to be their plus one to festivals, it was easy to fall into a comfortable lifestyle with them. So, when the time came that you and the traveler were asked to help abolish the vision hunt decree, you agreed without hesitation. For you it was a win-win; the nation will be free and thus you can freely travel between the islands to further your deadly plant studies! Your memory becomes hazy after that, as if everything happened all at once, despite it fleshing out over the span of a few months.

 

You subconsciously thumb over a scar on your lip as you stared blankly at the assortment of innocent looking foods in front of you; healthy servings of onigiri, Sakura tempura and rice cake soup. The birds chirp outside as Thoma sits across from you with an open notebook, pen waiting to note down your results as he stared at you expectantly. Ayato sits beside Thoma, sipping his boba drink loudly as he also stared at you, expression unreadable. The silence began to stretch on for another 3 minutes before you shiver and reach out to begin taking bites out of the assortment of food you were offered. It’s been about two months since the nation was freed, thanks to mostly the traveler. You were tired, worn and ragged from the war you came back from, but it didn’t stop the feeling of peace you felt at your core as you chewed on a rice cake.

 

“… It’s safe”, you mumbled, sneaking a second bite in before pushing the dish back and picking up an onigiri to chomp on. Thoma scribbled away in the notebook, nodding to himself as Ayato sets his drink down to watch you eat, a smile on his face. He was taking advantage of the free time Inazuma now has by asking you to be his personal food tester, it was a request he knew he couldn’t ask back then since you were busy with the vision hunt decree, but it was still a request he was itching to have you fulfill. He watched the way your face contorts with concentration, the way your eyes dart left to right as you chew, the way your brows knit tighter and relax slightly only to tighten up again and the way you tilt your head while you work magic in your intriguing little brain. There was something about the way you fearlessly try to pick out death from the flavors that has Ayato mesmerized, his smile growing fonder when your eyes light up, he knew that by the second bite you eagerly took from the onigiri that you found what you were looking for. “Oh, definitely poisoned… Where did they find the flora for this I wonder”, you ponder to yourself, missing the look Thoma gave to Ayato before the commissioner began to speak. “Worry not, we know exactly who sent that, so we’ll ask for you”.

 

By the beginning of the third month of freedom, the traveler was ready to continue their journey, and as it so happened, they were heading to Sumeru next. You smiled sadly at them, as much as you wanted to join them, you weren’t ready to return to your home nation just yet. They nod in understanding, squeezing your hand and telling you to finish what you had to do here and to meet them in Fontaine instead. There was still a lot of flora eating to do in Inazuma, and while you walk the traveler towards the boats that return to Liyue, you can’t help but sniffle out warnings about the various flora they should avoid if they want to reach Gandharva Ville alive and meet with Tighnari. “He’ll fill you in on the rest”, you hug the traveler and Paimon before sending them off, staying at the port until you could no longer see the boat and started your way back to the estate. Staying with the Kamisato siblings was like living in a completely different world; truth be told it was akin to living like royalty, you were still trying to get accustomed to letting the retainers pick up after you when you’ve gotten so used to picking up after yourself. It was under the insistence of Ayato and Ayaka that you began rooming with them, “The least we can do is offer you a much more comfortable abode while you continue your studies here”, Ayaka would beam at you, and you lost the will to fight against both her and her brother, moving the little equipment you kept with you to one of their spare rooms. Thoma loved having you around, you were very knowledgeable and never passed up opportunities to spread your poisonous wisdom during his housekeeping classes, he considered it extracurricular that could potentially help someone someday. Of course, you were as careful as you could be while staying with them, often warning the siblings and the retainers not to eat or drink anything you may have previously consumed because you often test the effectiveness of poisons through food and beverage. The idea of you becoming a personal poison tester for the estate only became more serious when a maid suddenly fell ill after consuming a pastry meant to be gifted to Ayato, and after your confirmation that it was indeed laced, you’re reminded that the sibling duo are often in danger of instances of unknowingly consuming poisoned offerings, so after contemplating heavily on it, you approached them and agreed that perhaps you could extend your stay and help trace back any poisoned goods and bring the perpetrators to justice.

 

Struck with a craving for something sweet on your way back to the estate you approach the stall that Tomoki was usually standing besides, your instincts on high alert when you saw a person you didn’t recognize standing in his place. It’s not unusual that Tomoki would miss a day or two, but something seemed off about this person, making your hackles rise despite the friendly smile you greeted them with. “Hello! Is Tomoki not in? I’d like some dango milk”, you inquired cheerfully, throwing in a curious head tilt for good measure while you inspected the suspicious figure. “He’s out sick, but he left plenty of milk to go around. Hey, aren’t you that hero that saved the nation?”, the person asks, reaching behind the cart to grab a bottle of milk and you notice its one that wasn’t part of the displayed bottles. You swallow thickly yet your smile didn’t waver as you dropped a few mora in their awaiting hand and take the drink offered. “Oh, I wouldn’t call myself a hero, but I definitely helped the traveler! Now I’m just a humble researcher studying the flora of this nation”, you chuckle, quickly thanking the person with a bow and hurrying off. You felt a cold chill run up your spine from the interaction, something felt seriously off about both the “merchant” and the bottle you were given so you took a detour to Komore Teahouse, pausing before the entrance. “… Hisashi?”, you call out, nearly jumping out of your skin when the man practically appears beside you, kneeling with his head bowed. Ayato had previously spoken to you about the Shuumatsuban, his secret ninja force, they’re fiercely loyal to the head of the clan, so when he informed you that you would be given permission to utilize them if you were in danger, warmth filled your chest.

“Inform our lord of the suspicious vendor attending Tomoki’s stall, something feels off about them”

“Right away, my liege”, and as quick as he appeared, he disappeared while you entered the teahouse and occupied one of the rooms. Retrieving your notebook from your yukata sleeve (you mastered the Kamisato Art of hiding shit in your sleeves), you opened to a fresh page to have on standby in case your intuition was right and you set to work, popping the bottle open and taking a healthy gulp. Sweetness coats your tongue, the texture a little thicker than you remember, your face scrunches when an air bubble pops and a powdery substance sticks to your tongue and throat, making you cough out what was in your mouth. “Whoa, don’t choke on it”, Thoma’s entering the room with a tea tray in hand, quickly setting it down and pouring you a cup. Before drinking the liquid, you scrape off the wet powder from the back of your tongue for further analysis and gratefully drink the tea that the retainer brewed, cleansing your palette. “Hisashi told me everything, Ayato is looking into that suspicious vendor you saw at the stall, and I figured I’d keep you company here just in case”, he beams at you and its like looking at a guardian angel. “Thank you Thoma, you’re such a lifesaver”, you chuckle while licking the finger with the strange substance on it, and all at once it hit you, the bittering numbness that was a surefire sign of poison. It appears to work quickly too, unless the little bit you consumed earlier was just now starting to kick as your hands refuse to pick up your pen, and at both yours and Thoma’s surprise you’re falling stiffly to one side, muscles as rigid as rigor mortis.

 

For the first time in a long time, Ayato is scared when Thoma bursts through the estate with you in his arms, the way you’re frothing at the mouth and your eyes were rolled back made him think you had finally met your poisonous match. He’s frozen, only able to watch as doctors follow in behind Thoma, thanks to his quick thinking he was able to gather a few to work on saving you. “…lord…. My Lord! Ayato!”, he’s pulled from his panic at the shouts of his retainer, who’s tugging on his sleeve, ushering him out of the room to give the medics more space. For the first time in a long time, he felt powerless at the mercy that was you and your dance with death, there was nothing he could do except pray to the archons that the best doctors Inazuma could offer will help pull you away from the clutches of death you’re currently struggling against. He’s been pacing outside of the door for hours now, waiting and listening in on the commotion that’s on the other side of what separates you to him. Its another half hour before Thoma is called into the room, and Ayato bites his tongue at the annoyance that courses through him, he wanted to see you, why can’t he be by your side? “I understand, I’ll bring them right away”, Ayato hears the voice of the pyro user and seconds later he’s rushing out of the room and beelining to yours, with the head Kamisato hot on his heels. “Thoma, are they alright?”, his voice cracks as he asks, his heart pounding harder in his chest when his retainer doesn’t respond right away, but instead begins to hand some dried herbs to him, a silent plea to hold them while he gathers some more in his arms. “Come on my lord, they’re gunna need these”, he’s out of the room in a few long strides, Ayato catching up to him quick and following him into the room you’re being held. He releases the breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he saw you sitting up against a pile of pillows, looking very weak but very much alive given the gentle smile you’re sending the two men.

“They’re very lucky they have gained such an immunity, its what was staving off the powerful poison in their system”, one of the doctors informs the hydro allogene, yet he barely processed it as he approached you slowly, setting the herbs down and reaching over to cup your face gently.

“If it wasn’t… For Thoma… I’d have –“, you’re shushed before you could finish the sentence, Ayato isn’t sure if his heart could handle you actually saying you could have died. He presses his lips against your forehead, concern once again flowing through him when he feels how clammy your skin is. “Are you alright?”, he asks softly, worried lilac eyes meeting with yours as you lift a trembling hand to cup over his.

“I need to make an antidote, which might take some time… But I should have enough here to keep the poison at bay in the meantime”, you pat his hand reassuringly, and even though Ayato’s anxiety goes through the roof when you’re thrown into a coughing fit, he has the utmost trust in you and your ability to be able to come up with a solution.

 

It's a tricky process, considering you were basically banned from stepping foot outside of the estate and if you needed a specific kind of plant, Ayato would send Thoma or a Shuumatsuban member for it. The suspicious vendor responsible for actually almost killing you was apprehended by the Tenryou commission for questioning, and to your surprise you learned that they were a spy sent from Snezhnaya to take out the “traveling heroes of Teyvat”. You’re internally grateful that the traveler was no longer in Inazuma to have experienced what you have, you have no doubt they wouldn’t have been as lucky as you. Still, you send a letter to them in Sumeru with the details and a warning to be careful, along with a report of the poison, its symptoms and a “tbd” beside antidote to be sent to Tighnari, you can already hear the forest watcher begin to lecture you about the risk you took in gathering this new knowledge.

“[Name]? The herbs you requested have arrived”, Ayato knocks on the door gently before entering, a bouquet of herbs delicately wrapped in parchment resting against his arm.

“Thank you, lets hope this batch will be successful”, you pull out your notebook from underneath your pillow, flipping to the latest page that’s full of scribbles and crossed out equations that failed. Ayato sits on the edge of the bed, setting the wrapped herbs down and reaching over to grab the mortar and pestle that was on your bedside table and the glass of water that awaits beside it. This had been your routine for the past few days, you’d test out a combination of herbs, wait a day and the doctor on call would check on your condition to determine if it was effective against the poison. Like clockwork, Ayato watches you mumble to yourself and pick off small pieces of herbs to throw into the mortar before using the pestle to grind it into a powder to mix into the water. The taste is horrendous but you chug it down regardless, praying to the archons that it actually works this time.

“How do you feel?”, Ayato asks, scooting closer so he can examine you as if you’d instantly be healed.

“Like I’m full of water”, you snort, closing your notebook and slipping it back under your pillow before looking at the man in front of you. His eye bags have gotten darker, it must be either from work piling up or your current state. “I think it’s gunna work this time, so I can hound you to take better care of yourself”, you frown at him, reaching over to rub a thumb along one of his eyebags and he sighs at the action, eyes closing and head leaning more into your open palm.

“I’ll worry about that when you’re not on the brink of death”, he shoots you a sly smirk, chuckling at your pouting face and pressing a kiss to your palm. Your cheeks flush. “I must confess something to you”, his voice is uncharacteristically shy, his sly smirk wiped away and his cheeks beginning to tint, the air suddenly growing tense and you could feel your heart begin to quicken.

“I must confess… That I love you, [name]. I’m ashamed that it took me witnessing almost losing you to realize my feelings, but they’re real and I’ll no longer deny them. Would you… Do me the honor of being mine?”, his brows are furrowed, you realize that concern is not a good look on him, you prefer to see him with his blinding smile, prefer to listen to the teasing lilt his voice takes when he pokes fun at you. Staying in the Kamisato estate made you realize a few things; you were still trying to get accustomed to letting the retainers pick up after you when you’ve gotten so used to picking up after yourself, Thoma is a literal walking ray of sunshine, Ayaka enjoys Chazuke in private, and you fell in love with Kamisato Ayato.

“Ayato… I was yours the moment I was asked to move in”, the smile that greeted you was ethereal, even in the dim lighting of your bedroom he looked heavenly, cheeks a rosy red that reached the tips of his ears and adoration in his gaze that you mirror in your own. He leans forward, intent on stealing a kiss from you until you press a hand to his lips, a giggle falling from you.

“Wait, I’m poisonous, remember?”, you snicker, Ayato chuckling against your hand before he laces his fingers with yours, opting to press his forehead against yours instead.

“I suppose I can wait a little longer for that then”.

 

Ayato is pleased when the doctor monitoring your condition confirms that your latest concoction is highly effective in combating the poison and was currently flushing your system, you should be fully recovered by dinner time. You’re shocked, not only did you manage to fight against a rather powerful poison you also threw together an antidote all by yourself, eat your heart out Akademiya researchers. A celebration is thrown for you at the estate following the good news, the evening full of good food, good friends, and good vibes. You’re in the middle of recounting a story of a similar incident that you experienced while in Sumeru, one where Tighnari was the one who threw together an antidote in hopes you didn’t go to the light when Ayato excuses you from the group to pull you outside to the garden illuminated by moonlight.

“What’s this? Did the Yashiro Commissioner miss me that much even though he saw me this morning?”, you tease, laughing when Ayato simply pulls you into his arms like a child clutching their favorite bear. While the celebration was full of mirth, the process of actually throwing the party was time consuming and tiring, so you didn’t get to spend much time with your boyfriend until now, arms wrapped around each other under the full moon.

“Is it a crime to miss my beloved? I feel like I haven’t seen you in far too long”, he’s chuckling against your neck, lips pressing gentle kisses against the skin and moving up along your jaw until he presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth. Your flurry of giggles is like music to his ears, he’d sit through a million boring meetings if that meant he could come home to you and your addicting voice.

“As it so happens, it is. You’ll be charged accordingly I’m afraid – your innocence will cost you one kiss”, you move your arms from his waist to around his neck, one of his hands rests on your hip while the other tilts your head up.

“Oh? Well, for you, I’d be happy to pay”, he whispers against your lips before he takes your breath away with a sweet kiss, literally because he tastes like milk tea.

Epitaph: the Ayato brainrot is real y'all lmao cant wait to bring him home, any Ayato havers have any advice for team comps and artifacts? insert eyes emoji cause I'm on pc rn aljslkjd

[tatooinequeeen]

Wherever I May Roam

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Reader

Ao3

Spotify Playlist

Triggers: consensual choking, breath play and light bondage

Chapter Two: Call Out My Name

The way Love rolled off his tongue made you practically come undone. Did you have any business kissing Ghost in your kitchen with your mutual best friend innocently watching Bake Off in your living room? No, certainly not. But damn if you wouldn't do it again in a heartbeat.

You lean against your closed front door in a daydream of emotions and wild desire. You don’t know him from Adam but you want to God you want to. You can’t even get his number without further involving Soap and that’s the last thing you want to do. He will no doubt give you a colorful verbal lashing later, especially with your track record in the romance department. He’s had his work cut out for him with your dating history and your staggering lack of good judgment when it comes to men. No wonder you wanted the hulking man that wears a skull mask, Soap should’ve known better! But what if this one is different, obviously Soap thinks he’s a good guy and their dynamic made you feel comfortable and safe which is always a positive thing…right?

You’re still lost in thought, moving throughout the house in your nighttime routine when your phone vibrates on the counter. The first thing you notice upon unlocking the screen is that Soap has texted you three times and there is a message from an unknown number. Your heart gallops in your chest, hoping against hope it’s him.

Unknown Number: I really wish I could stop thinking about you, it’s distracting and I’m meant to be focused.

A blush warms your face and your smile could light up an entire stadium.

Soap: Against my better judgment I’m giving Ghost your number

Soap: He’s a good guy, but you’re my number one girl, kid

Soap: Gah, don’t make me regret this

You shoot a text to Soap thanking him and asking him not to worry, all the while trying to come up with something witty to send Ghost, eventually deciding cute honesty is the way to go.

You: I could say the same to you, I don’t have to be focused but I’ve nearly run into the coffee table twice since you left :)

You don’t expect him to text back immediately, especially if they’re in a brief like Soap mentioned when they left but his reply is prompt enough to suggest he wants to talk to you as badly as you do him.

Ghost: Sounds like you’re unsteady again, too bad I’m not there

A flush of heat rushes through your body at that, the memory of how his hands felt on your bare skin and the way his body felt against yours.

You: Too bad indeed, who knows what will happen to me now

Ghost: Distracting woman

You: I think you need a distracting woman in your life, Simon

Screw being coy, you want him. He wants you, you’re going to pursue this with vigor.

Ghost: Fuck, say my name again

You: Would you rather hear it?”

Ghost: Yes

You queue up a voice memo and use your sexiest voice, breathy and sensual. And when Ghost replies you have to sit down on the couch to slow your racing heart.

Ghost: Leave a key under your doormat for me tonight

You: Done, don’t leave me waiting

That’s when the panic hits, yeah it was easy and hot earlier when it was spontaneous but now you have who knows how long until he’s back here? You know exactly where this sexy teasing is going and while you’re more than ready now you have time to overthink and be nervous. You decide to turn out all the lights and take a hot shower. This kind of situation calls for lingerie and soft fragrant skin. After all the prep work is done and you have calmed down just a little, you let the ambiance of your room lit by a candle on your dresser set the mood and lie on your bed. You float between checking your social media apps, all the while trying not to think about Ghost too much.

You don’t even realize you’ve dozed off into a light sleep until you feel a tender caress on your face.

Your eyes flutter open and had you not been thinking about that mask all night, he probably would’ve startled you. But it’s him and the piercing brown eyes that capture yours set you immediately at ease. They’re so beautiful, you almost voice that to him but he speaks first. “I’m sorry I took so long, Soap was being a pain in the ass and asking questions he already knew the answers to.” The rasping British accent sends a thrill through you and he must see how he affects you because he laughs lightly. You sit up and lean your cheek into his palm, reaching to place your hand over his. It’s then that you realize that you’re in nothing but your purple Honey Birdette lace bra and thong. He gives you no time at all to feel embarrassed, his hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck as he leans over you, pressing you back into the pillows behind you. Your hands go to his chest, feeling how mouthwateringly hard his muscles are and waiting for what he does next. You’re happy to let him lead, hoping that he will discover and nurture all the kinks you keep hidden. If there’s any man who would do that, you’re sure it’s Ghost.

Your voice is barely audible when you ask “Should I close my eyes now?” His grip tightens on the back of your neck while his other hand traces a path from your hip to your ribcage. You feel small, delicate even and delirious in the silence. “Not this time, love.” The anticipation of seeing him without the mask nearly chokes you. He leans back and uses the hand that had been drawing circles on your ribs to tip the mask off.

In the candlelight you see Simon Riley for the first time and this time you really do choke.

He’s so handsome in a rugged, no nonsense kind of way that you almost want to weep. Just as you felt in the kitchen he has a rash of stubble that would turn into a beard if he let it, and the fullest plush lips that somehow just make him that much more appealing. He tosses the mask to the other side of the bed, his attention never leaving your face. He has black face paint around his eyes giving him a cat burglar type of look but he pulls it off. You reach up and run your thumb through it, smudging it across his sculpted cheek bone. Your slow exploration has your desire at an all time high and it crackles between you two like potent electricity. You close the distance between you and stop just a breath away from kissing him to simply say, “Thank you for trusting me, Simon.” You feel his body tense against yours and you swear you hear a low growl in his throat when his name rolls off your tongue.

Ghost surges forward to connect with you in a kiss that detonates any illusion of control you had. You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips with his tongue, tasting you in a way that has your back arching into his hold. He slides his hands down to your hips and positions you under him so he can straddle you. He’s so much bigger than you which makes this that much more delicious. He tastes like spearmint gum, sharp and sweet at the same time. You writhe a little in his hands and he nips your bottom lip in punishment. “Fuck, I had no idea you’d be waiting for me like this.” You smile against him, thrilled by the way he sounds so undone. “It would appear you’re overdressed.” He laughs as he moves his lips across your jaw to your neck where he sinks his teeth into the junction between your shoulder and your collarbone. Your gasp fades into a moan as he strokes the tender skin with his tongue, soothing the bite.

How did he know you love to be bitten?

You reach down to tug at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin needing to feel his skin against yours. He allows you to strip it off him but stops you before you can go to work on his belt. You blow out a frustrated breath that melts into a breathy noise as he descends down your body, placing kisses and nips on your breasts, your stomach and finally on your inner thigh. Your harsh panting is the only sound in the room and you fear how loud you’ll get when he reaches his destination. Almost reverently he hooks your thong and slides it down your legs, letting it dangle from one foot before resuming his sensual assault. When he reaches the apex of your thighs you do something you’ve wanted to do since you had that moment in the kitchen. You sink a hand into his thick raven hair and he leans into your caress. You lock eyes in a moment, saturated in desire and he licks his lips before he dips down to taste you. The hand you have in his hair tightens as he runs the flat of his tongue through your folds, working your clit in a way you have never felt before. He uses a hand to lift your hips to his greedy mouth and uses the finger of the other to enter you. “Jesus, you’re tight.” You have no words, only breathy moans in response as he works you with his mouth and finger. He inserts another and curls them to hit the perfect spot that has you reeling into an orgasm. It snuck up on you with an intensity to steal your breath away. “Oh my God,” you breathe as he leans his cheek against your inner thigh and looks up at you with his toffee eyes burning. “You taste like heaven, baby.” You can’t help smiling down at him, blushing softly. He just blew your mind and now he’s being sweet? He slinks up your body to kiss you, kicking off his pants as he goes until he’s towering over you, causing your body to flush with suspense.

He grips both your hands in one of his, a testament to how small you are in his embrace and uses his other hand to cup your jaw, teasing a thumb over your lower lip. “You need to tell me if I hurt you at any point, love.” You nod quickly, ready to feel all of him. He positions himself at your entrance, rubbing his precum through your slick folds, the thick head of him circling your clit enough to take you right to the edge once more. “Please, Simon, please,” you beg. You watch his eyes flash and then he's sliding into you. You moan deeply as he stretches you, going slowly enough to drive you into a frenzy. His grip tightens on your wrists and you writhe beneath him uncontrollably. Your walls flutter around him and he groans deep in his throat, a sexy baritone that you could never get enough of. He hits the end of you in an exhale that you share, he’s so big that it hurts in the most tantalizing way. You rock your hips and he closes his eyes briefly before they’re back on yours. He takes his free hand and rests it against your throat, gently collaring you. “I want to hear you, baby. Tell me what you want.” You swallow down any inhibition, it has no room in this space between you. “I want you to fuck me, fuck me right into this mattress until there’s no telling where I stop and you begin. I want you to imprint yourself on me in a way I’ll never be able to get rid of.”

Have you ever said something so bold before?

Ghost rocks his hips into you and your eyes roll back at the burst of pleasure. “God, you’re everything. I’m going to make you mine in the most primal way.” He moves back and then he's slamming back into you, all pretense and cation thrown to the wind. You rock up into the headboard with the force of your thrust and a moan sounding like his name explodes out of your throat. He creates a steady driving rhythm that makes good on everything you asked of him. He strokes your g-spot, angles in deeper until you’re sure he’s going to hurt you but it’s only never ending pleasure, especially when his hand tightens around your throat ever so slightly. He leans down to kiss your parted lips and lick inside your mouth, fucking you every way he can. The hand holding your wrists disappears and you’re left gripping a pillow as he pounds into you. Then he’s expertly rubbing your clit, an orgasm immediately at his fingertips. He rocks into you twice more and the way he touches you sends you flying over a cliff of ecstasy into another climax. With your walls spasming around him, he speeds up until you have no choice but to hold onto him as he claims you. His thrusts grow erratic and he drops his head into the crook of your neck as he moans your name, filling you with his release.

You run a hand lightly down his back as you both come down from the high, breathing in your combined scent, a heady feeling. He nuzzles your neck and you giggle lightly, his stubble creating a yummy friction against your skin. His lips press a kiss to your throat where you were not so long ago wearing his hand as a necklace before he gets up and goes to the bathroom. You lay there absolutely dazed and sated when he comes back and cleans you up with a warm washcloth. You have never been so thoroughly cared for, in sexual gratification or in the aftermath. He doesn’t take long before he’s climbing back into bed and pulling you under the sheets with him. You settle back into him with his hand wrapped protectively around your stomach. You sigh in contentment, safe and satiated in his arms.

As you fall asleep you feel the gentle press of his lips on your shoulder and think if you aren’t careful you’re going to fall in love with this man.

Note from Tatooinequeen: I TOLD YOU HE’S SWEET 🥹

[littlebird-99]

Dreams into Reality

Thorin X Tayler

Summary: Finally resting in Rivendale, Tay finally wakes up to someone besides Fili, knowing her secret. A bonding moment between Tay and someone.

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm (will put asterisks)

Masterlist

Thorin's POV

“We should have left here where she was.”

I shake my head as I watch Fili pick her up and start to carry her, part of me was worried, especially after the flinch she shared after I grabbed her wrist, I didn't grab it hard, lest I thought I didn't.

“You don't mean that Thorin,” Balin's voice spoke out, “and I know deep down you know you don't mean that.”

I shook my eyes at my oldest friend's words, before starting to walk into Rivendell, looking around, I turn to Dwalin once we all stop, shaking my head lightly.

"Mithrandir!"

"Ah, Lindir."

"Stay sharp," I lean towards Dwalin as I keep my eyes on this, Lindir.

This Lindir started speaking to Gandalf in Elvish but he was cut off by the Wizard, "I must speak with Lord Elrond."

"My lord Elrond is not here."

"Not here? Where is he?"

Horns sounded behind us and we all turned around as horses started to rush across the bridge, I spoke in Dwarvish before yelling out, "close ranks!" I made sure Fili was in the middle since he was holding Tay, I needed her out of sight of the elves for as long as I could, despite knowing that they could help. The horses started to circle around us, causing my heart to pound against my chest as I watched them closely, keeping my eyes on Gandalf just as one of the elves started to speak to him.

"Gandalf!"

"Lord Elrond." Gandalf greets the Elf on the black horse, before speaking in Elvish, earning responses from him back, the two just speaking in elvish causing me to glare at the two as they continue to speak, just as Elrond climbs off his horse and goes to hug Gandalf.

"Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something or someone is drawing them near." Elrond glances toward all of us and I make my way forward, "Ah that may have been us," Gandalf points his staff towards all of us, so I take that as a queue to step forward.

"Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain." He spoke as he walked towards me, "I do not believe we have met."

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain."

"Indeed. He made no mention of you." I scoff, looking up at the elf as I try to decide when we should leave. He starts speaking elvish towards me and I hear Gloin speak up behind me in the group, "What is he sayin'? Does he offer us insult?!" He growls out as he starts to push forward.

"No Master Gloin, he's offering you food. And medical care for young Tay." I eye the wizard at his mention of Tay's name then glare at the Elf, "How do you-"

"AH well.. in that case, lead on" The dwarves all move forward walking into the palace ahead of us. I watch as a few elf maidens take Tay from Fili and I try to keep myself from grabbing her and leaving but I knew deep down they could help her better than the mountain ahead of us could at the moment. "She'll be fine My king, just let her get healed." I see my nephew whispering to one of the elves who had a sorrowful look on her face before she nodded and left them alone.

**Before we go towards the food, I pull Fili away from the others and into what I assume is a library, "what did you whisper to that elf maiden?" I question, going straight to the point. He just looks at me, his own questioning look on his face, "I have no idea what you're talking about Uncle," Do I look stupid to you? I saw you whisper something. And somethings been off with her since the hobbits home. Now tell me."

"Don't ask things you don't want to hear the answers to."

I glare at my nephew before shaking my head, "the injury that happened when she 'Arrived here,' was one that happened before she came, I know that much. But what is the cause of it nephew?"

I could feel his eyes on me as I move around, trying to not push my nephew into a wall and demand the answers. "Uncle... I'm not supposed to say, I told her that she could tell everyone on her own time. I don't want to upset my friend by talking about-"

"I don't care! You need to tell me what is wrong with her! And you will do it now or you can forget about finishing this quest with us!"

He looks at me with wide eyes, "you really want to know? In her world, she is miserable! She fights battles that are worse than ours! In her world she feels like nothing, she's fighting a war in her mind that hurts her every day. So in order to take control of those thoughts, is to use something to... I believe she said to control the pain, it helps her. When she arrived in the shire, she had just used a blade on her own skin, she was hurting and the person in her world wasn't able to see how much she was hurting. This person who is supposed to love and cherish her, she feels as if she means nothing to him. So she took the blade and used it. Trying to take the pain and control it. I bandaged the cuts, got them cleaned and helped her. I was letting the Elf maiden know to leave those bandages alone, and I would take care of it after the arrow was taken care of."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, my one was hurting and it was because of someone from her world. "I'll change her bandages. I'll take care of her, you go take care of yourself, I won't let her know that you told me. I'll tell her that an elf maiden told me." I spoke before sending him away quickly.**

Tay's POV

I hear birds around me, and before even opening my eyes, I feel the sheets below me and I start to panic, especially feeling a hand on me that doesn't feel familiar. I feel the hands where my bandages were supposed to be and I quickly pull my arm back, my eyes opening to find dull blue ones, with an emotion I wasn't quite used to seeing from him.

"What... What are you doing Thorin?" My voice was hoarse as I spoke, making me wonder how long I had been sleeping, and what I had missed.

"An elven maiden had come to find Fili but found me instead, letting me know about the bandages on your arm, I offered to change them for you," I couldn't pinpoint what his emotions were, and I was supposed to be good with that, but Thorin was something else, one who kept his emotions in check.

"I.. please go get F-"

"Why... Why do you do this?"

I was caught off guard by his question, just as much as I was when he grabbed my wrist gently, pulling it back to him so he could continue cleaning the cuts that littered my arm. I avoided looking at him, so I looked everywhere around my room, loving how beautiful Rivendell was in person.

"Tay, please?" His voice was soft this time, and I shook my head looking at him finally. I can finally see the sadness that lingers in his eyes, and I find my heart cracking, I quickly look down at my arm, eyes scanning the new bandages that line it.

**"I'm not enough," My voice is just above a whisper as I begin, "In my world, people prove to me time and time again that I'm not enough, and it is breaking my soul. I can't breathe, my chest tightens and my mind races faster than my heart half of the time, so, to help with that, I take a blade, and run it along my skin, making my mind focus on the pain from the blade. Or I take a lighter, light a stick on fire, or something metal, and stick that to my skin..." My voice starts to tremble as my eyes being to water, I try to find my words again, "my mind is a dark place, a battlefield that no warrior would want to be in."

"When you say... when you say people prove to you that you're not enough," His voice sounded hoarse, but I ignored that as he finished his sentence, "what do you mean?"

"They show me, Thorin, with their actions... their words." I look at my arm in his hands, seeing the way his fingers glide along the bandages, tears were falling down my cheeks now, the wetness landing on the blanket that was covering my body, "they ignore me, they treat me as if I'm just a bed warmer, or that I'm only useful for one thing... I'm not important to anyone, he used to notice my pain, he noticed when I was shutting down but lately, it's like I'm invisible to him, like, he doesn't wish to read me anymore, not like he used to."

I refused to look at Thorin as the tears fell, "I was doing fine... I hadn't harmed myself in over a year, but something broke inside my soul, and I... I grabbed the closest thing to me and started too... I couldn't stop.." I hesitated before starting again, "I'm not strong Thorin, I don't know why I'm the one who's a part of this quest. There has to be someone else who is better qualified to travel with you and the company."

I quickly pull my arm back to my chest, scratching roughly at my arm where the bandages were, "hey don't do that, you'll..." Thorin quickly started, before he softly pulled my arm back to him, his eyes still on mine before he began to speak, "I'm fully aware that sorry isn't what you want to hear right now, so I'm not going to say sorry, nor will I know what you're going through, but, you are apart of this company. You are a part of this family that we have started," his words made my heart skip a beat, I feel my head shaking and was about to speak before he stopped me. "I know I haven't been the best towards you, and I'm trying to find my words to let you know why, but as of now, I'm more worried about you than I am about that. I will work on how I've treated you, just... I have one thing to ask of you, dear Tayler."

I looked into his eyes once more, "Promise me that you won't do it-"

"I can't promise that, because this is a new world, and I'm certain I won't be able to go back to mine, which is going to take a while for me to get used to. But I can let you know, same as I let Fili know, that if it gets back, I will try to find one of you when I'm hurting."

"That is why Fili got nervous about handing you a blade, and why he tried to fight me on it..." He offered out earning a nod from me, "That is correct... he's been worried since he saw the night I got here... He's a good man, Thorin, and he'll be a great king one day, after following in your footsteps."**

I could see his mind roaming into different thoughts that were soon interrupted by an elven maiden, "ah, Lady Tayler, you're awake" I smile softly as I nodded towards her just as Thorin excused himself from my room rather quickly but not before I feel him lean closer to me and whisper, "never believe that you're not strong. You are stronger than any dwarf, elf, hobbit or man."

"Would you wish to bathe before meeting with the others in the dining hall?" The elf maiden asked me, I gave a small nod as I looked up at her, "Please" I hear my voice whiper before she helps lead me towards the bathing house.

It was a smart decision to bathe, I felt a lot better, and now I was supporting a very flowy dark blue dress as Illyria, the elf maid who helped me, escorted me to where everyone was eating.

"Tay!" I turn when I hear the princes and I quickly move towards them, hugging them gently, "we thought we lost you" Kili's voice whispered as they hugged me before they pulled away.

"He thought that I did not, I knew you were a fighter, I believed you'd make it," I look at Fili with a smile before he helped me sit down.

"Aye lass, sporting the Durin royal colors I see, they look beautiful on you," I feel my face heat up as I hear Balin, I turn toward the dwarf who only nods, "they are, you didn't realize did you?" I looked down at the dress before giving a soft smile, no wonder I picked this dress, it matched what Thorin wore when he was first introduced in the movie. "I did, I figured that I'm a part of this company, so I should support it, what better way to wear the royal color to dinner in honor of our great king."

What I hadn't noticed during that time, was Dwalin nudging the king himself and the King facing me with a look full of adoration, that was quickly wiped away when I turned meeting his eyes which quickly looked elsewhere.

Tags: @tschrist1

[sansaorgana]

hullo, i adore your gale cleven stories! could you please write a buck falling in love with future wife story? meeting, proposing, + all of the little things that makes him love her. maybe she works on base and they meet there? idk. many thanks!!

hiii 😌 sorry it took me so long to go back to writing requests 🙉 your request is an idea for a long fic with many parts so I tried to fit it into a one-shot and it came out pretty long so the proposal part kinda didn't make it but it's mentioned 👌🏻

I currently have quite a few requests and I'm slowly working on them!!! 💛

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

Not being able to fall asleep, Buck was laying in bed and kept staring at the celling, thinking of you. He lately couldn't stop thinking of you at all and he wanted it to remain his secret but it was also affecting his functioning on daily basis. Pilots shouldn't get distracted like that.

It wasn't love at first sight or anything of that sort. You were handing him coffee each morning and he had always been nothing but polite but – let's face it – most of the time he treated you like air. You were there because you had to, because all of you had to. It was your job to be there and you were nothing special amongst all the other men and women working at the base. He admired women's courage to sign up to help men while they were at war but he didn't even remember your name correctly.

Until that one rainy grey morning when everything seemed to go as bad as possible and you spilled the hot coffee on Buck Cleven.

"Goddamit!" he hissed and looked down at his now stained shirt. The stinging pain and the dampness of the fabric weren't very pleasant either.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry, Major," you gasped and panicked inside.

Major Cleven looked up to lay his blue eyes on you and you batted your eyelashes, stunned at how beautiful they were. He thought you did that to soften him up in a feminine manner. And his heart indeed grew softer at the sight of your face.

"It's fine," he nodded even though it wasn't. "I'll go change and when I'm back, have another one for me."

"You sure you want me to hand it to you, sir?" you joked, cheered up by the visible lack of his anger.

"We all get shaky hands sometimes," he smiled at you and left the queue. You felt bad about the fact he had to go out on the rain again and that his shirt was ruined because of you.

You personally washed it and made sure the stains went away. He had no idea about it but women responsible for the laundry were your friends. Actually, you didn't want him to know because you felt like it was a little odd on your part… So you sneaked in to the room where he had been sleeping and you placed the folded shirt on his bed carefully. You thought you were alone there but you heard someone clearing their throat behind you so you turned around and faced Major Buck Cleven himself. Your cheeks started to burn out of embarrassment.

"Major Cleven," you looked down like a child caught on stealing candy.

"Miss…"

"(Y/L/N)," you introduced yourself quietly.

"Miss (Y/L/N)," he nodded, "may I ask what you're doing?"

"I… I brought you fresh laundry, sir," you looked up at him. He seemed to be a little amused with you as he was casually chewing on a toothpick.

"I had no idea you were responsible for that, too."

"No, usually I am not, sir," you shook your head.

"Is it related to our little coffee incident perhaps?" he approached his bed and glanced at the perfectly folded and ironed shirt that seemed to be a shade lighter than before from all the chemicals you had used to get rid of the stains.

"Well, no point of lying, although I did not mean for you to know, Major… Well, I…" you took a deep breath in. "I washed it," you confessed, awkwardly.

"I can see that," he chuckled. "It's a shade lighter," he commented.

"I am so sorry, sir."

"I am the one who's sorry for your pretty hands. If that's what your washing did to my shirt, I don't want to know what it did to them," he looked down at your fingers that were playing nervously with the hem of your jacket. There was a long pause of silence between you until he finally raised his eyebrows and pointed at your hands. "Show me?" he asked.

You were a little taken aback by that request. And a little ashamed, too, because indeed your hands looked a bit rough from the laundry chemicals. You raised your hands for him to see, though.

"Ouch," he shook his head. "You shouldn't have done that," he looked deep into your eyes and you thought you'd faint any given second. They were so ocean blue, so easy to drown in.

"I'm sure your hands are no better, Major," you swallowed thickly. "Rough from the piloting and… everything."

"That's how pilot's hands should look like, miss (Y/L/N)," he pointed out and you hid your hands from his sight quickly.

"Yes, you're risking your life out there every other day and the least I could do was washing a shirt that I had previously ruined… Sir."

"Was it the first shirt you ruined?" Major Cleven took a step closer and your heart skipped a beat when you realized he was getting closer to you on purpose.

"Well… No," you didn't want to lie to him. You had spilled coffee on a few men before.

"And you washed all of these shirts, I'm safe to assume?" he asked.

"No, sir," you pursed your lips for a moment to stop them from shivering. He raised an eyebrow at you. "None of the men were so kind about it," you told him.

It wasn't really the truth. Major Cleven didn't get angry at you but none of the men really did. He just captivated you with his beautiful eyes. That's why you knew you acted pathetic to wash his shirt personally and didn't want to get caught.

But just because there was a war raging around you, it didn't change the fact you were a woman with your own heart and soul, your own needs and desires, your yearning and romantic ideas. You had a crush on him from the moment he screamed "Goddamit" in that deep voice of his. As silly as it sounded.

You couldn't remember the last time you had felt something so… real and not war-realted. Something that wasn't stress, fear, worry or sadness.

"We all work hard here. There was no need to be rude about a small accident," Major Cleven explained. "And your job is as important as mine here."

"Hardly, sir," you snorted at that because it was just ridiculous. But when you looked up to meet his gaze, you could see that he was serious about it.

"You shouldn't argue with a Major, should you?" he teased and you rolled your eyes a little.

"I suppose so. But my ma's always been saying I have a big mouth," you cracked a smile and he looked a little surprised before smiling back.

"Well, well, well, who would have thought?"

"Everyone who knows me outside this base, sir."

"Well, I hope it's going to be me one day, too, then," he winked and then walked past you as if nothing had just happened. "I'm sorry, I have to fill some papers."

"Sure, sir," you stuttered out and watched him walk out of the door. You touched your cheeks with the palms of your hands. They were as hot as if you had a fever.

Since then, you two would have little conversations like that here and there. You would find out more and more about each other and Buck quickly started to get attached. He loved your laugh, the little wrinkles around your eyes whenever you smiled at him, he loved your accent, your curls straight out of a magazine cover, he loved your soft fingers when you were handing him a coffee, he loved your jokes and how devoted you were to help around the base. The sound of your voice was making his every day better and each morning he waited for you to lay your eyes on him.

And now he couldn't sleep because he remembered something that had happened earlier that day when he was up in the air above Germany and one of the missiles almost hit his plane. He watched it explode in front of him and his only thought was that if it had actually killed him, he would die without you knowing how much you meant to him.

He didn't mean to fall in love because it was a distraction. But he could also die any day. There was no point and it would only bring pain to everyone involved. And yet, he was not immune to your charm.

"You look like shit, have you even slept?" Bucky asked during breakfast.

"No," Buck admitted and sighed. He was holding a cup of warm coffee in his hands, still angry at the fact that today it hadn't been you handing it to him. There was a very long queue waiting in your line and some other woman handed a cup to him without even asking him if he wanted one.

"What's wrong?" Bucky started eating as he glanced at his friend's full plate of untouched food.

"I think I might have fallen in love."

Bucky laughed at first but then he stopped, realizing that Buck's face was as serious as ever.

"Oh, fuck," Bucky wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back on the chair to examine his friend's face and posture. He looked troubled. "Is it that girl you always talk to?"

"You've noticed?" Buck raised an eyebrow at him.

"Everyone has. We were betting on when you two would… you know," Bucky grinned.

"And that is one of the reasons why I hate gambling," Buck wasn't pleased to find out. He felt like it was disrespecrful to you. "What did you bet on?"

"That you never confess your feelings and going to be sad about it your whole life," Bucky teased. It wasn't what he really placed his bet on but he wanted to motivate his friend.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Buck sighed and placed the coffee cup down before standing up and approaching you. You were handing out coffee to the men waiting in line but he walked up to you from the side so you turned around with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Major. Don't think you can fool me, I know you've already had a cup," you smiled at him.

"Are you free this weekend?" Buck asked because he had known the answer. You had mentioned to him the other day that you would leave the base for the upcoming weekend.

"I am, sir," you nodded. God, he even loved how you would always address him "sir" or "Major". Something about it was making him feel weak and absolutely crazy about you.

"I have a weekend pass, too," Buck lied. He didn't but he was going to make sure he'd get one. He hadn't had any day off since he came to the base so Colonel would give it to him surely.

"Oh, nice, sir," you batted your eyelashes. This time you did that on purpose.

"Would you like to go to London with me? I've never been there," he proposed and the man who was taking coffee from you at that moment, froze for a second and widened his eyes at Major Cleven. Then he smirked, waiting for your response as much as Buck.

"I… Ugh… Well… Sir, I…" you hated yourself for not being able to articualte yourself properly. "I would love to, Major Cleven," you said finally with a smile.

At first you wanted to tell him it would be inappropiate. And that you actually planned on visiting your family. But then you remembered you were at war and he could die any day. No one cared about being appropiate. And your family would understand, surely.

"Whoo!" The man taking coffee from you cheered and you gave him a scolding look. He blushed and walked away as fast as possible.

"I will gladly go, Major," you repeated yourself, "but you better remember I'm a proper lady, sir."

"Oh, of course," Buck nodded.

There you were, his proper lady. Sleeping on his chest in a London's hotel room. He watched you breathe peacefully as he caressed your hair. The morning rays of sunshine were creeping in through the curtains and he wished to stop the time. He wished to lay with you forever like that. He didn't want to go back to reality.

You moved a little in his arms and he saw your eyelids opening slowly.

"Good morning, my proper lady," he teased as his fingertips caressed your bare back.

"Good morning, Mr. Good Boy," you teased him back and yawned before rubbing your eyes. "What time is it?"

"Still quite early. We don't have to leave yet," Buck answered.

"I'm glad," you bit on your lower lip and looked up to meet the gaze of his beautiful eyes. "It was the eyes," you admitted.

"Hm?"

"I fell for the eyes mostly," you confessed in a whisper.

He didn't say anything for a while. He was left speechless at you being so open with your feelings; he felt like the luckiest man on earth.

"I'm glad you fell for me," he decided to be playful to hide how weak you were making him feel. You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. "Because now we have to get married."

"Oh, you Americans," you rolled your eyes jokingly. "I wasn't the first girl you slept with, come on," you giggled.

"But you were the first proper lady, for sure," he tickled you a little and you cupped his face to place a kiss upon his lips.

"Don't joke with me like that," you whispered. "Because I'll really want to marry you and then I won't leave you alone. I'll fly to America and follow you everywhere like a maniac," you half-joked.

"You promise?" Buck's eyes softened and his voice sounded very serious. You watched him carefully as his hand gently fixed one of your reckless curls. God, he really meant that.

"And what will you tell our kid? How did daddy meet mummy?" you asked.

"Well, she spilled coffee on me and batted her eyelashes at me. I was practically sold," Buck pulled you closer to place a kiss on the top of your head.

"Doesn't take much for you to fall in love, Buck Cleven. Makes me seriously worried about your fidelity," you teased.

"You fell for my eyes. Do you have any idea how many other men have blue eyes?" Buck laughed.

You laughed, too, because he had a point. And then you got serious again and caressed his cheeks with your fingers before pressing your forehead to his.

"Well, none of them is Buck Cleven."

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[olokosomolo]

Time comedia del arte

This is Natter Dam Dam Hoppa from My Homies Tv . I’m next to Jefferson medical center. Here with me Dr. Psyciamo Psyso. The one that link stupidity to a painful illness and call anyone that feels dumb or stupid to come and get body suite made of plaster.

Pp: yes, it was me. we can see a long line of dumb people and will increase during the evening and more idiots will come to get in plaster.

NDD: And why do people need to wrap themselves in plaster? Sounds strange. Agree with me, Dr. Psyso dumbass idea, coz how can stupidity be a painful disease?

Pp: Yes yeah Dam Hoppa dumbness can easily kill And also can kill, kill too

DDH: I see it’s also contagious

Pp: what?

Let me gives you an example. Week ago we got a dead guy name John a young guy that stick his head near The blades that mixed the dough at the food processor factory after one of the stuff said that the dough smells bad. Instead to shut down the mixer he stick his head, nose first. As the blade got his nose, quickly he became part of the dough, a bloody Jhon dough the speed of the blade pool him and he been grinding in second. The moron got the title John Dough.

DDHopa: Hehehe what a dumb this John Dough so no one saw him I mean what a perfect way to be Anonymous after John becomes Dough Himself. I guess his loved ones are going to bury Dough John and write an epitaph: Our love one, Dough John Dough love share but dies prematurely anonymous

Pp: and yesterday a young lady with burning wounds after she was babysitting two little babies she fell asleep while smoking and she burned the whole house with the babies she babysit. Immediately when she felt the smoke she couldn’t find her phone to call for help, so she ran down to call from the house phone. Instead it was the microwave buttons that she push to call for help. Until she realizes she calling using microwave the fire spread and the two babies, Barbie & Queue burned to death..

DDH: wait what, you telling me that the Young kids that burned named Barbie Queue ?

Pp: yes sir Korean twin, a boy and a girl. It was heartbreaking to watch BBQ parents moaning their lost twin, in particular their mom that cried: No mo BBQ all burned no mo no mo BBQ. And here in our Medical center we hold few stupid workers too. One nurse that heard the mom approached the morning mom, hugged her and said. It's ok you can come on the weekend I promise we're gonna make you BBQ, even better than the BBQ that burns, right after the invitation BBQ fell on the floor, fainted.

So as I already mentioned I recommend to anyone who thinks he is dumb enough to come and we will cover him head to toe with plaster.

DDH: so now I get it it’s painful disease when they practiced their stupidity then it becomes dangerous, nevertheless painful. And what you offer as I understand is to cover them with plaster to avoid the pain that might be inflicted on them at sort distance time. You know, I always was curious what is more severer to be stupid or dumber ?

Pp: good question I’ll try to simplify it by comparison to an occupation say dumber is prostitute and stupid is stripper

DDH: hey hey hey please do not offend prostitution occupation they at list making money, by charging to unload the males poisons. Like a waste management

Ddh: Very respectful occupation

Pp: Indeed my friend didn’t think like you, either way dumber are the worst stupidity can be linked to many naïve people.. and half of the one standing in the long line are the one that must feel the thrill of being covered head to toe with plaster…

And together they say:

THE DUMBASS DUMBER

[faithtreasurescatholic]

THE SACRAMENT OF RECONCILIATION (CONFESSION) HEALS FROM THE ADVERSE REACTIONS OF THE mRNA VACCINE

(20-minute read)

The video has been transcribed below using the subtitles from the video. Slight spelling alterations (vaxxine-vaccine) and embellishment has been added for emphasis.

Father Savvas: “I would like to present to you a personal testimony of a Priest-Monk, who made the mistake of getting vaxxed. This is his confession. If anyone wants to know his name, I can tell you privately. He is a priest under Archbishop Ieronymos of Greece. I will be reading directly from the publication. Which fortunately, it is still on the internet.

[Priest-Monk]: “With a few words, I will relate my experience after taking my first dosage of the Pfizer vaccine.

God obstructed me with many signs before taking the vaccine, due to shortness in time I will not mention all of them.

As I was heading towards the vaccination center, right before I was getting into the queue I felt something was obstructing my approach. As I approached, I felt (smelled) a stench that surprised me.”

Father Savvas: “Said the monk. You see, God cautioned him and he still went ahead.”

[Priest-Monk]: “While I was taking the vaccine, others were waiting outside. As I was leaving, I was unable to wear my Kalimafi (priest hat).

I felt a great shame within myself, and left holding my kalimafi in my hands.”

Father Savvas: “As you can see, he began to feel the demonic influence right away. As he was ashamed to wear his Kalimafi even though he is a priest.”

[Priest-Monk]: “Arriving home, I went to the bathroom to wash my face. Upon looking at the mirror, I was frightened at my face due to the expression I had.

The next day I went shopping at the supermarket and since it was still the period after Pascha (before the leave-taking), I would normally greet the shopkeepers with “Christos Anesti (Christ is Risen!)” or respond “Alithos Anesti (Indeed He is Risen)”.”

Father Savvas: “So as you know, for 40 days after the resurrection, we refrain from saying “Hello/Good day” and replace the phrase with “Christ is risen”. And the other Christian should respond “Alithos Anesti” and not say “likewise”.

[Priest-Monk]: “As a Priest monk, I was surprised to discover that I was very ashamed to say “Christo Anesti” to the shopkeepers. This greatly overwhelmed me.”

Father Savvas: “He began to realize more intensely that something was not going well in his soul.”

[Priest-Monk]: “A day later I went and attended a divine service at a local church, but not to liturgize the service as the priest.

Upon entering the Altar I felt as if I was dead.”

Father Savvas: “You see a living spiritual person notices the difference straight away.”

[Priest-Monk]: “The joy I used to feel at the divine service was lost. It was as if I was not entering the altar of a Holy Church, but as if I had entered a room in a house. All these things surprised me, but at the time I did not believe they stemmed from the vax.

I saw familiar parishioners turn their faces away from me.

The next day I found out that my conscience was causing me terrible pain. It is as if I had been pierced in my heart with such pain that I had never felt before in my life.

I told this to a fellow Archimadrite (Monastic Priest), of what I was feeling, and he consoled me. He told me words along the lines of: ‘It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’

Upon leaving, I found that this pain in my conscience was relentless and was deepening further within me. After that day forward I was in a deeply troubled state which lasted 13 days. I could not sleep or quiet down.

Now allow me to explain the most terrible part. Day and night I constantly saw Satan in front of me, his face 20mm distance from mine.

I went to sleep at night, and felt him hugging me, and I would get cold all over.

I would read the Salutations (Χαιρετισμούς) to the Virgin Mary and I would feel as if my blood was burning in my veins. I felt a foreign presence within me and it was judging me.

I felt a horror as if someone was saying: “You belong to me now.” “

Father Savvas: “Do you understand how terrible these things are? And very true because we personally know this person.

In turn, this proves another experience of another Priest-Monk who was doing exorcisms. And the demon being pressed told the truth while having a monologue: “Why am I telling you this? I don’t want to tell you this, but I am being pressed.”

The Priest-monk replied, “I am not pressing you.”

The demon replied, “I am being forced to tell you.”

So the demon told him thus: “We did a ceremony at a Lodge in America for the vaccines.” The satanists performed a ceremony for the vaccines.

Furthermore, the demon said: “Those who take this vaccine will be unable to repent.” Now this may seem too harsh.

The Priest-monk then asked, “Why won’t they be able to repent?”

The demon responded, “Because I will be inside of them.”

You can see a correlation with the initial Priest-monk who was saying the same thing, that he felt Satan inside of him and saw him 20mm away from his face telling him, “you belong to me”.

The Priest-monk performing the exorcism, was having a dialogue with the demon. The demon was speaking through the demon-possessed person.

The demon told him: “Those who took the vaccine cannot repent because I am inside of them.” The Priest-monk asked, “How are you inside of them?”

The demon answered, “With the blood of the aborted fetuses.”

We have mentioned previously that fetuses were used in the vaccine and were purposely murdered for their cells. These cells were extracted from the living fetuses by these atheist scientists and doctors who don’t hold anything sacred and holy.

They also remove the organs from a living fetus. If the fetus is dead, the organs and cells are useless. Therefore, they were not taking the fetuses from the waste bin. Which even if they were, does not make it morally right, as an abortion had taken place. However, in this case, these fetuses were specifically prepared for an abortion.

So the devil confesses, “I am already inside those who took it via the blood of the fetuses.”

So this confession of this demon, correlates with the Priest-monk who was seduced into taking the vaccine.

So as we previously read; he was saying he was ashamed to wear his kalimafi, to say ‘Christos Anesti’, how he felt dead whilst being in the holy altar, how everyone turned their faces away from him because his face was altered… how for 13 days he could not sleep or settle down, and most terrifying of all, day and night was seeing the face of Satan from his face at a 20mm distance continuously… and how he felt Satan hugging him, and though he was trying to read the Salutations, his blood was burning in his veins, and he felt someone saying to him, “You belong to me now.”

Thus the Priest-monk continues:

[Priest-Monk]: “I had stayed at my family home in case of an adverse reaction, after a few days I left.

At the Monastery where I currently reside, at the Divine Liturgy, I found that I could not understand a thing.

I felt as if I was dead, I was constantly rushing through the service, felt great anxiety, not a speck of joy, I felt as if I was not a priest or even a baptized Christian!

I reached a point unable to speak as if I had lost my voice. I felt my life was dark and a constant state of despair.”

Father Savvas: “You see this person made this mistake and is being humbled. This means he has an ecclesiological conscience. This is very important.

As there are others who have made this mistake, and after seeing this mistake do not confess it, so that they may warn others.

Let’s continue reading.”

[Priest-Monk]: “While I was in this hopeless state, a familiar family came to visit the monastery. I spoke with the mother.

She said to me, ‘Father, why are you speaking like this? Many people after taking the first dosage, do not end up taking the second dosage. So you too, should not take second dosage!’

Father Savvas: “She gave him some courage.”

[Priest-Monk]: “As she was telling me these words, I felt a certain refreshing dew entering my soul.”

Father Savvas: “This was from God.”

[Priest-Monk]: “I was consoled by God’s grace.”

Father Savvas: “Because he had begun to repent. God sends people to console us, to inform us. This is how God works during such situations. Just a word, though many times irrelevant, shows us the way.

So she said, “Ok, you made a mistake. Don’t make the next mistake.” i.e. don’t take the second dosage.” Let’s continue:

[Priest-Monk]: “I find it unnecessary to mention the despair I went through and the tears I shed. I don’t know whether it’s a coincidence or not, but exactly 40 days after the vaccine I started to feel the grace of God again.”

Father Savvas: “After 40 days he began to feel that he was baptized again. He came back with repentance.

So he confessed his sin, received the rite of forgiveness, and shed many tears. As it is written here, he cried continuously for 40 days and only then did he begin to feel the grace of the Holy Spirit.”

[Priest-Monk]: “I began to feel peace and consolation, that God had forgiven me for what I had done, even though I had no knowledge of what this vaccine actually was.”

Father Savvas: “Sadly there are many people like this, not everyone is indifferent, there are others who are directed by tyranny and fear… or by pressure, by their children or doctors, etc.

However, when you have the correct information you don’t submit to all of this. This poor fellow was seduced, but now he has corrected his actions.

So after 40 days he began to feel the forgiveness of God.”

[Priest-Monk]: “I do not dare or want to know what would have happened to me if I had taken the second dosage of the vaccine. The only thing I can say is that God felt sorry for me.

Even though now I feel better, I have not recovered to the state I was in prior to taking the vaccine.

In my humble opinion, this vaccine by Pfizer that I took is a mark (seal), but not the final mark. Most likely a forerunner for the final mark of the beast (Book of Revelations).”

Father Savvas: “This last statement correlates with another remark made by a demon during another exorcism. A close friend of mine, a respectable Priest-monk had told me. He had a dialogue with a demon during an exorcism.

The demon told him, “Yes, this vaccine is not the final mark (stamp), but it is still a mark, a forerunner… And those who are like you, when they take the vaccine, they lose their light.” The demon continued, “A short man had burned us with these exorcisms!” This short priest (Elder) is well known and performs exorcisms… The demon continued, “Now that he (the short Priest) took the vaccine, he has lost his strength. Now I am able to approach him and kiss his hand!”

Previously, the demon would tremble with this Elder. But now that the Elder has taken the vaccine, the demon is able to get his blessing. This correlates with the Priest-monk we have been reading about: “Even though now I feel better, I have not yet recovered to the state I was in prior to taking the vaccine.”

As you can see, these vaccines not only cause physical (biological) harm, but spiritual harm also.

We have read this testimony as an example, and it is from a person living a proper ecclesiastical (church-minded) life. Because as we previously said, when someone makes a mistake that is impacting many others, it’s most beneficial to correct this mistake publicly. This is in order to protect other members of our Holy church from making the same mistake.

As St. Chystostomos says, “The lukewarm Christians are living in comfort.” The lukewarm are those who want to combine everything; the world, Christ, hedonism (love of sexual pleasure), avarice (love of money), the external appearances (vanity)… to not be disenfranchised (segregated), go to Church, take Holy Communion, Holy Confession, etc. These lukewarm “Christians” cause the most damage to the church.

And they don’t admit to their mistakes, as they think they do everything correctly. If they make a mistake, they don’t correct it. They do not publicly repent of their sin so they may protect those around them.

As it is written in the book of Revelation, these are people that God will spit out (vomit them out). It is best to be hot or cold, never lukewarm. The one who is spiritually cold may at one point understand their spiritual blindness and become hot. God wants us to be hot. However, the lukewarm are comfortable.

Sadly, most people nowadays are lukewarm. As mention by Father Athanasios Mitilinaios, most Christians are lukewarm. We too are lukewarm and need to stop being lukewarm.

To a faithful person of God death does not exist, this is the reality. We have forgotten this and we presently fear death. Not only do we fear death, we also fear being fined, possible imprisonment, and prosecution. In NO case can a person call themselves a Christian if they fear death. When a person fears dying, they become an idolater or an atheist.

Instead, a Christian should long to die. The saints wanted to die. The reason why Christians truly want to pass away is so they can be fully united to the Lord they worship and love above all else. They want to go and are joyful when they are passing away. However, they never cause death to themselves, they do not commit suicide. But when the opportunity arises to become a martyr and confessor for Christ, they do this without fear of death.

nfortunately, these things are not being heard from the Preachers, Bishops and Priests, but as you know are heard from the demons.

A well-respected Priest-monk who perform exorcisms, once told me what a demon said to him. The demon said to him, “How are you Christians fearful of death? I have seduced and deceived you into taking the vaccine with the fear of death!” A demon again confesses that the vaccines are his doing. In fact, he says, “We did a ceremony at a Lodge in America for the vaccines.”

See what the demon confesses! The demon continues: “What did you fear? For you (Christians), death does not exist.” For Christians, death does not exist. Do you understand, fellow brothers and sisters, where we’ve come to?

In the Gospels, Christ said something correlating with our present situation. When He entered Jerusalem and the children were calling out, “Hosana! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” The children were proclaiming Jesus as the awaited Messiah. And others who were indignant were saying to Jesus, “Are you hearing what they are saying to you?” Christ responds, “I tell you that if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out.”

So correlating with today’s situation, now that the Priest and Archpriest are not proclaiming that death has been conquered, the demons are proclaiming it instead: “How are you Christians fearful of death? And are all running to take this vaccine?”

Which isn’t really a vaccine, but rather a gene therapy/technology, with the aim of oppressing humans. This is the aim, which is why there will be more dosages. In fact, there are many people who say there will be 7 dosages. The demons also state that there will be 7 dosages.

Those who were deceived into taking the first or second dosage, hopefully, will not take the remaining dosages. May they repent, weep and go to confession, because their salvation is in danger. We all ought to be vigilant of this.

I’ll read another Priest-monk’s testimony to you all, which was published on the internet unless it’s now been erased. Because whatever is true these days, is usually censored on the internet. As you know the internet is Satan’s. Unfortunately, the internet is not governed by God’s people. Whatever they want they remove, as much as possible they eliminate anything that is good and right.

So this Priest-monk who published his testimony on the internet said, “I considered taking the vaccine was nothing. So I went and got it. But after I got it, I lost my prayer. I felt Satan coming and hugging me. For 40 days I could not even say ‘Lord have mercy.’ ” This Priest-monk has testified this publicly. I personally know him. He is from a Monastery in Peloponese. He also urges everyone not to make his mistake (of getting vaccinated), and whoever has already taken it, to not take any further dosages, which will cause more harm for both body and soul.

In conclusion, these are the things I wanted to say to you, brothers and sisters in Christ. As you can see, there are many testimonies from many individuals. God even caused the demons to give a testimony. Remember what the demon was saying to Priest-monk during the exorcism?

“Why am I telling you all this?! I do not want to tell you, but I am being pressed.”

We must also remember that the devil lies too, however, there are many times when the devil says the truth, especially when forced with the prayers that are read during an exorcism. Likewise, we read in the gospels, the demons saying the truth to Jesus, “You are the Son of God!” The demons confessed that Christ is God.

Let us take these things into account so that we don’t fall into this trap of Satan. Which as you can see, Satan is using much force to direct all of humanity into this trap. So he can kill as many as possible. This is the murderer (man-killer) that Satan is. This is now all coming into fruition with what is happening globally.

The devil wants to take as many souls as possible, this is his final goal. If all these things (vaccines) were good why would they make them mandatory? Something that is good is not forced. You see Christ, whenever He went to heal someone, He would ask, “Do you want to become well?”

These rulers nowadays are trying to force us to be well. That’s what they think. However, they don’t want to make us healthy, quite the opposite is occurring actually. Because we know these vaccines cause sterility and thousands of other adverse reactions. Over 2 million adverse reactions were recorded in Europe. And over 600,000 adverse reactions in America. Over 21,000 deaths in Europe, and 14,000 deaths in America. These are all mainstream statistics that you can find online.

Therefore we do not need to eat idiotic grass and sleep with our boots on (greek expression; We don’t need to be idiots). Under no circumstances are we to accept these things that the evil one is selling us.

May God bless us all. May John the Baptist guide us. To not only cease committing evil, but to call out evil when we see it. Whoever cowers and is silent before sin, becomes an accessory and an accomplice to sin. So what I tell you, you need to tell others, inform all our siblings so that they may not fall into this trap by Satan, and lost the kingdom of God. Amen.”

End of transcript.

[blackbloodteeth]

"SoMa no kissing in The Backroom challenge (Hard Mode)"

Well this was intended for April Fools Day but sometimes things get a little out of hand don’t they haha

I wrote this with the premise of “no plans, no backspaces” (except for fixing typos otherwise this would be unreadable) because of a joke I made in chat, which is where the exact words of the title comes from, typo included. Hopefully the nonstop work I did on this for over a week is at least worth the read.

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[Also on AO3]

Rating:    Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:    Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Fandom:    Soul Eater (Anime & Manga)

Relationship:    Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans

Characters:    Soul Eater Evans,  Maka Albarn

Additional Tags:    Religious Imagery & Symbolism,  Violence,  Blood,  Body Horror,  Trauma

Language:    English

Words:    9920

.

The story starts with Soul and Maka having left the hallway into an unidentified room, holding hands as one of them claims to tell them something (I'm not sure who we'll see if this becomes relevant later).

"Hey, I need to tell you something..." It's probably Maka.

As it turns out the room has other plans when the lights flicker and the surrounding area fades into a change of scene. The walls become a yellowish office hue, with those bright monotone white lights overhead, and an incessant buzz droning into your skull from the trademark origins of said previously mentioned standard faculty lighting.

"Oh shiot the backrooms?!" That was probably Soul.

Why yes I am keeping that typo, but also while he and her also were looking around they noticed that it may not be The Backrooms but instead The Backroom, since there was only a singular room instead of the endless horizon of identical labyrinthian empty spaces. Go figure.

"Well this is a problem."

It was indeed a problem. They continued looking and saw that it was a room and that this came with the consequence of just being a room, no doorways, no windoways, and no ways that it appeared to have an exit.

In case that sentence was too butchered to make sense, they’re locked in here now. Looks like they’ll have to survive not kissing in here The narrator insists that thought came from one of them, probably the one who had to tell the other something wink wink.

Souls eyes dart between the empty space and Maka’s squinting, wondering what the actual heck is going on and probably if he’s crazy I guess since that seems like a reasonable assumption.

“Okay...” He reigns himself in, facing her directly. “I guess we should probably figure out how to escape, and probably pray we actually can all things considered.”

She fidgets. “Solid plan.”

So the two try to assess the current state of the backish room – Which unsurprisingly still did not contain anything text worthy – Until one of them sighs, probably both, and there is another hand holding, with sincerity.

“Look no matter what happens I’ll try to stay with you, we can figure this out.”

Queue title card of area.

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Part 1 – Limbo

As you may have guessed, there’s nothing much here.

This part is probably not going to be long.

The two decide to take different routes of examining the room – For Maka she focuses on her Soul Perception, while Soul physically runs his hands along every inch of the walls to see if there’s a secret hidden in them that he somehow wouldn’t have known with only his previous experience with this concept to be theoretical.

“Yeah, still not really getting anything, aside from you and me anyway.”

He sighs, as it seems his luck is similar. “Well this sucks.”

She wanders up to him, maybe to give him both an extra set of eyes and some optimism that usually one does not remain trapped in solitary room states forever (in better or worse implications), and sends him another smile that the will of some unforeseen force says he should enjoy seeing.

His glance flicks out with a sense of unease for a moment.

“Well, guess this isn’t the worst situation we could have ended up having.“ He reluctantly agrees. “Guess I could...”

She motions to him indiscriminately.

“Sit down with you and talk I guess.”

Soul shuffles a bit in place while pondering the implications of having to communicate, and the possibility that it could involve feelings and personal stuffs, and he’s not sure if he wants to do that since he is in fact the world’s most cagey bastard even if said world is currently just a box.

“What.. do you wanna talk about.” They lean against the wall, mostly that he did it with his shoulder to mirror her propping against it with her back, and she snickers slightly.

“You said you had something you wanted to tell me?”

He blinks.

“Did.. I?”

Her brows furrow with a sense of playfulness if not also a slight confusion. “Yeah? That why we ended up here in the first place, since you pulled me aside in the hall.”

He continues his stupefied blinking before she corrects herself with her hands motioning. “Okay not first place first place, but like before the room changed for whatever reason.”

The air is quiet a moment as he genuinely replays the events that have occurred just now, sifting through them to remember right before then and if he was in fact the one who was asking her to ask her something, and it dawns on him that maybe he was even if he has no idea what it was he wanted to ask in the first place.

“I’m not sure...”

But he looks her in the eyes, certain that whatever it was it was probably important.

“Guess we have enough time for me to figure out that out, though.”

.

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Part 2 – Indecision

They pull away from the wall when suddenly it starts to shift.

The air feels almost like it’s vibrating, fidgeting like an innumerable swarm of busybody insects as the room tints to a passive shade of grey. Along each four cardinal walls soon stood four differing objects, still as if always having been there.

The closest: A couch. Black and white, plush, but strange as that soft feature appeared to stem entirely from being made of stuffed toy rats.

Across from that: A chessboard. Similarly colored while retaining a sense of normalcy being made of wood and carved plainly, albeit lacking any sort of seating to go along with it.

To the right: A bookshelf. Topped up and down with loads of books, all of different colors and most likely of different subject matter. Still they sat but quietly they beckoned with how densely populated the whole shelf was kept.

And finally: A piano. It remained silent and patient.

“...The hell is this?”

Unfortunately no answer was returned as the gleam in Maka’s eye had already taken her to personally inspecting the bookshelf of its contents, much to Soul’s eyerolling. She seemed excited though even if she still wouldn’t admit she’s absolutely a nerd.

“Wow, they’ve even got Dante’s Inferno on here...” He simply saunters away from the unsettling rodent affair, glare suspicious and unyielding toward the more concerning addition to their imprisonment.

“This feels like some sort of trap, if I’m to be honest.”

Her hair whips as she shoots a look to both him and the obvious transgressor.

“What?”

A chuckle turns her away from the book she was readying to dive right into (just a closer examination of its sudden appearance, of course), arms now crossed with that sass she never lets up even in stranger times. “A piano isn’t suddenly going kill you.”

His squint narrows further.

“Factually incorrect, actually.”

He continues before her stance has a chance to go anywhere. “Look, Black Room yadda yadda, but also people have been killed by pianos before. Usually dropped from great heights but there was that one guy who got ran over once.”

His hands motion away her imminent questioning. “Look, all I’m saying is I don’t trust a damn thing about any of this” – Each point is further emphasized with gesturing – “At least two of these relates to our personal interests, this one’s just freakin’ weird, and this… I dunno actually, looks like filler I guess.”

Maka’s analytical gaze does another brief sweep before falling back onto the rat couch with a growing smile, which he immediately also did not trust.

“...You really freaked out by the couch?”

He fidgets subtly. “...It’s weird.”

That smile overtakes her face and sends him into further restlessness, especially with how she’s flipping between him and it. “I think it’s cute.”

“You...” His blinks flutter more rapidly. “Maka it’s made of rats.”

“Soul those are clearly stuffed animals.”

“On an entire couch??”

“Oh come on, I bet it’s soft.”

He scrunches up. “God, please tell me you wouldn’t actually sit on that thing.”

Regret immediately seizes him when she gave him that look that told him oh I definitely would sit on that thing before she drops her arms, reveling in his increasing discomfort as she prods one of the vermin making up the arm.

“Yep. Feels soft.”

“Maka, please don’t...” Genuine distress starts to raise his tone when the head of the rat registered as movement when she pulled away, his fists clenched while trying to remain level headed. “We don’t actually know if that’s safe.”

A sense of playful desire to continue teasing him dissipates at his sighing, her arms now idle as she steps away, softened. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

His fingers scratch at the back of his hair, a murmur still keeping his focus on the potential dubiousness of him having just imagined that.

“`s fine. Just… bit on edge right now…...”

He lifts his eyes up again when she reaches her hand out to him, a huff breaking out his smirk while he meets her palm again, and a sense of comfort washes through him with seeing that despite it all her reassurance thankfully hasn’t changed.

“Like I said: No matter what happens, I’ll be with you the whole way.”

.

“So...” His eyes gloss over the different array of covers as he continues halfhearted moving each of them around. “What’s Dante’s Inferno actually about?”

Maka glances at him briefly, a smirk raised to his brows furrowing. “What?”

“I’m surprised you asked.”

“I mean I’ve heard of it before, just never read it… Probably nerd stuff…….” She snorts at his grumbled pouting. The books keep shuffling with her attention to them as she remains smiling, more enticed by the opening to inform than to seize the chance for further teasing.

“Well it’s a story about an Italian poet who journeys through each layer and learns something about what it really means and the significance of each punishment. Genuinely really fascinating, especially for the time period.”

Soul’s finger hovers over a volume of something seemingly animal related until he slowly resumes his prodding. “...Layers of what?”

She stops and blinks. “...The Inferno.”

He squints, their staredown lasting approximately 30 seconds before he takes a gander at connecting the vague dots.

“...Like Hell?”

At this moment he now wondered if she was trying to Morse code his stupidity through eyelids alone, lips raised in a patient but very noticeably befuddled shade of amusement. “Yes…? Did I not already say that?”

“No, actually.” He deadpans. “Just that there were layers and that could have meant literally anything without context.”

Her eyes visibly replay her words through her head, quickly dropping into bit of chuckles once registering that she did in fact miss that part of her explanation, much to the chagrin of one’s initial intentions.

“Sorry, I thought I mentioned that.” The book she left parted away from its brethren was then returned after having been held for long enough, a lighthearted hum resuming as she returned to inspecting the remainder of that particular shelf.

“Yeah, it’s about Hell. Each layer is divided by the different sins people who don’t want to make up for them have committed, starting from the outer edge and getting progressively more intense the deeper it goes. Pretty interesting this actually does reflect the layers of the Earth’s core while still going through all this different symbolism.”

“Yep that sounds like nerd stuff.”

He snickers as her knee retaliates into his shoulder, hands soon dusting themselves off when he finally reaches another shelf’s end with a sigh. “Well doesn’t look like there’s actually any secret switches behind any of these...”

The thud of a hardcover resounds as she frowns. “Yeah… At least it was worth a shot…...”

Blood flow restores to his legs as he levers himself back up into standing, fingers stretching as he shakes them off and rolls his shoulders.

“So, what now?”

Consideration immediately turns around to the other side of the room where – “Aside from that.” – and then moves over to the right, mentally interrogating the chess board already set up even without anything to sit up to it with. As it stood the potential hazard level of it simply being there was estimated to be fairly low, so she lets her eyebrows raise at the prospect of something entertaining for them to do. “Care for a game?”

“...Do you know how to play?”

They then plummet at the sheer audacity of the assumption that she would have said not. “Yes?”

Soul’s eyes roll almost fast enough to take his head along with the force. “Do you know how to explain the rules.”

“Oh.”

She clears her throat before walking over to the table, briefly examining it and then lifting up one of the pieces slowly, setting it back down to where it had just been after nothing strange had decided to finally descend upon them and Soul had done a thorough amount of anxious fidgeting. “Here.”

His hands tuck into the pockets of his steady gait toward the opposite end of the board – the white pieces – while she takes position across from him. The awaiting game was indeed carved in a similar manner to the table, but in the curiosity of his touch he began to wonder if it had been done in bone instead of wood…

“This front row? Those are your Pawns.” Her instruction gestures out to the relevant parts of the board. “This piece here is your King – Your goal is to make sure I don’t capture him while you try to take mine. This one is the Queen; Unlike the King who can only move one space at a time, she can go pretty much anywhere so think carefully about how you want to move her so you don’t end up wasting her abilities.”

He nods to confirm that so far things made sense.

“The Pawns also can only move one square at a time but only directly in front of them and if that space is empty. They can’t capture another piece directly in front of them, only when another piece is standing diagonally to it like this – “ A spare pawn is used to demonstrate the attack pattern. “ – If you can get a Pawn to my end of the board you can then turn it into any other piece you want.” He nods again, pieces returned to their proper spots.

“The rest of these are the Rooks, Bishops, and Knights. Rooks can move as far as they want but can only move in these directions, but you can capture whoever’s closest in any of the directions. Bishops work the same way but they move diagonally instead. And Knights move differently than any of the other pieces, kind of in an L shape like this – “ The ivory slides over multiple center squares. “ – both forwards and backwards. These ones can actually jump over other pieces so you can only capture with a Knight if another piece is on the last square they land on.”

The pieces are once again set back, this time tidied up and straightened forward, an excitement shimmering in her eyes that he knows is going to give him hell later.

“Other than that, the Pawns can move two spaces only when they’re first allowed to move and there’s a special move you can use once per game that lets you move Rook and King together, but other than that I think you’ll be able to pick it up as you go.”

Soul lets out a slow exhale while taking a moment to let that all sink in, eventually raising his shark-toothy smile up in accepting her challenge. “So, who starts first?”

“White does.”

Oh that grin definitely tells him she isn’t planning to go easy on him.

“Got it...” His hand hesitates out briefly, then extending a pawn from the middle, two spaces forward like he already knows to do so.

Let the game begin.

.

The makeshift door opened swiftly with her brisk entrance, eyes still bound to the journalings while she hurried over to him.

“Found something?”

A sharp sigh indicated that that may indeed be a yes, the papers soon sat in front of him as she did, that sternness worn unyielding even if her tone held no affront. “I think we just might finally have found the thing we’ve been searching for.”

Intrigue brings his fingers over his chin as she unfolds the relevant notes for him, scrawlings and sketches somehow still as concise as ever. His eyes tread lightly yet with care, soaking up every drop of information until eventually his gaze lifts, heavy with a newly added weight of dread even aside from the pervasive fear looming through the very air itself.

“A power greater than anything ever imagined...”

Her mutter sicks into him, thickening the tension. “Do you really believe this to be a wise decision?”

“Do you trust me?”

His thumb strokes in restless thought for a moment. “You and you alone, yes.”

“Then allow me to pursue this chance to finally end all bloodshed.”

That ideal did ring deep with him – It was no hidden fact that their very home had quickly descended into a battlefield, one that now only reeked of war and chaos in mere days, and ever the strategist he considered both scales accordingly before finally reaching his verdict, solemn yet proud.

“If it is your will, than so it shall be done – I’ll continue to follow it until the very end.”

.

.

Part 3 – Hesitation

“Checkmate.”

An air of victory resounds in the final tap of ebony across the board, Maka’s triumph lasting for only a few second before suddenly the lights start to flicker, both of them instinctively distancing themselves from the table while the room already began to shift again.

At first, nervousness at the unexpected change of scene, but soon a bewildered uncertainty with their surroundings now being cozily lit, décor more fit for a small party.

Beside them, as they looked back, was now a wider table hosting an array of tantalizing food and drink. To Soul’s left stood a grandfather clock where the bookshelf once was, ticking quietly to itself yet unassuming. To Maka’s right came a soft tune of inviting music, spun from a record that played of its own accord. And at the remaining wall there sat a simple recliner.

“Well if didn’t look like a trap before, it definitely does now,” he mutters, tension keeping his movements stiff despite his attempt to seem calm.

Maka at least appears to take this in better than he is. “Hey at least it’s friendly.”

“That’s the part I don’t trust the most.”

Her laugh turns away as she continues surveying the room, though inevitably pulled back in when his frowning murmurs at the sound that didn’t strike him as necessarily grating. “Do you think there’s some sort of… symbolism in any of this…...”

The reflection of their earlier idle talk resurfaces with a thoughtful hum.

“Hmmm… That’s a good question actually.”

Truthfully the room did seem to actually know them to some degree even if so far fairly surface level, but it having struck more than coincidences threw her into full intrigue, a finger tapping out of sync against her chin as she wandered to the middle of the stage.

“Well this is clearly some sort of party scene… Maybe it has to do with being outside our comfort zone; Like there’s stuff we’re familiar with, like you’ve got the music and food, but then there’s this sort of sense that… That sort of feeling that you just want to go home, you know? Since there’s a clock that constantly tells you the time and a chair maybe someone would want to sit on instead of moving around.” Her arms then drop to the side with a humored aside. “Or this actually is some kind of Hell and we’re not supposed to fall for temptation or something like that, either one.”

His brows furrow as he sinks a little more. Well he could definitely believe that latter just from the piano alone, though that only raised more questions as to what they’d done to end up in that kind of place to begin with, or when they were going to be able to leave for that matter.

“The last version of the room ended up changing after we did something; Maybe we have to keep choosing the correct options until we can find our way out.”

“Oh, good idea.” Her owl eyes take to immediately assessing their next course of action. “Okay, that will probably get us killed. Don’t really know what the chair would do but kind of don’t want to see how that could go wrong. Hmmm… I wonder if...” She moves her examination along the clock’s height, souring when nothing out of the ordinary revealed itself before swiveling away again. “Guess that leaves the record player. Maybe we’re supposed to shut it off?”

Soul ponders this as he also has to consciously pull his hand out of him having started chewing his nails. “Last time changed when we played along with it, I’m not sure if trying to shut it down is a good idea.”

He then tenses up at how much her eyes immediately light up.

“Oh we should dance!”

His entire being immediately scrunches into itself.

“Oh come on; I showed you how to play Chess, you can show me how to dance! I know you’re way better at it than I am, anyway.”

One long drawn out sigh later, he reluctantly admits that so far that logic is safest and most promising thing they have to work on, a timid arm extended her way once he’d slowly trudged to the center of the floor. “Here...”

Not even his pout could remain sure of itself as she bounded up and eagerly accepted his invitation, fitting right into place in a way that drew his grin out helplessly.

“Okay so I assume you know how legs work, but uh… First basic step goes somethin’ like this…...” The gears in his head gnash wildly over trying to figure out how one condenses a lifetime ago of formality into a single comprehendible list until they’re suddenly knocked out of alignment, his balance startling back when her attempt to match his movement puts her too close too fast. He brushes it off with a laugh while straightening them out to try again.

“Okay, uhhh...” And then clears his throat to reset his posture. “Yeah I don’t think I can explain it the same way you can. I’ll try to make sure you can follow along, but uh...” He can’t resist loosening up a chuckle at how serious her face said she wanted to take this.

“Just think of it like how we partner – Let me um… be your Meister right now.”

“Got it.”

With a deep breath, he takes a basic step, then another to feel for the general movement. Slowly he pulls her along, letting her familiarize with the pattern, before he eases into bringing them closer to the beat of the current song, falling into the rhythm that he made sure not to get swept away in as long as she was there to keep up with him.

.

The water swayed along with his feet, soon slowing to an end when he reached the chamber where she stood ahead of him. His eyes fell affixed to objects she revealed in hand as she turned:

One constantly shifted into itself while the other pulsed outward, both glowing mysteriously and mesmerizing enough to hold him at bay, still even while she promptly addressed him.

“These are it – We finally have both keys to unlock an end to this madness.”

And him the third…

He finally breaks away back to her sober gaze, resuming his trek toward the stone platform with a sullen breath. “You’re truly certain this will end in our good favour?”

“You have my faith. I’ve studied extensively enough to understand the process and as long as we remain together we should be able to control the outcome how we desire it.” His footsteps pause right in front of the steps up. “Are you truly prepared to walk this path with me?”

The stone answers quietly beneath his climb, gentle fingertips meeting her knuckles as their eyes locked, tender and understanding yet firm in resolve.

“My oath is sworn unbroken.”

.

.

Part 4 – Stagnation

Click.

Their steps cease when the song comes to an end, the needle’s aimless wandering soon fading into silence while the room shifts away again.

This time it appeared much simpler yet more abstract: The scene laid barren except for two standing chairs, facing both opposite ends of each other and up against the walls, the floor of which contrasted both sides – red and green – in a spiral pattern that twirled directly into the center until neither were distinguishable. This color also ran up the surface of all sides but faded halfway into a muddled shadowy ceiling, which consequently revealed the lighting to now originate from an ornate crystal chandelier that was notably hanging somewhat precariously.

Enough to fall and hurt someone if it was swayed too much, Soul reckoned.

Maka pulls away, gears visibly turning in her eyes quick to contemplate their new puzzle, frowning as she eventually hazards at its reasoning.

“Duality.”

“Hm?” It was a hum less about it making sense and more for prodding her train of thought.

“Conflicting viewpoints – There’s two opposite sides facing away from each other, but eventually they work around each other until they meet in the middle.”

That definitely seemed clear enough to be true, but there was still a clue lacking enough to bring his thumb over the corner of his mouth in pondering. “So what does that mean for us?”

Her frown continues twofold as she continues working through it before bringing him along.

“The first room we went ‘against each other’ while the second room we ‘worked together’, so for this room...” She perks up when a dot connects. “We come together as equals, like Resonance!”

He hums his agreement to that conclusion. “You showed me something, I showed you something, so now we have to show each other something?”

“Yep!”

A smile twitches up at her triumph before it lowers again, thoughtful as his glance flicks around briefly. “...So what exactly do we have to show each other?”

That was actually a very good question, one that quieted her again while it became mutually obvious that unlike the previous two iterations there wasn’t nearly as much to do here (aside from sitting and staring straight at a wall, but Soul wasn’t too keen on that even if his legs started to want to convince him otherwise), and as she moved along reassessing either side her face eventually lit up with her hands clapped.

“Oh, I know – Here, you stand over by the green side!” He hesitates a moment until her persistence in the matter slowly shuffles him over to the other chair, Maka then standing proudly opposite and eager to give instruction.

“It’s like you said when we were dancing: you took the perspective of being a Meister, and now I’ll take the viewpoint of being a Weapon before we meet in the middle as partners!”

His brows furrow, staring up at the chandelier with unease over having to be anywhere beneath it, but he complies for lacking any other possible solutions. “So we both just kinda pretend to be each other’s roles?”

“Yeah – Maybe we can take steps forward when we feel like we get the hang of it so that we’re both ready at our own pace.” Soul nods as her face then slips into full concentration, a sigh quietly puffed out while he closes his eyes to focus too.

A Meister… Not too different from being a Weapon in that they were two halves working towards the same goal, but the way both went at it from separate angles as a default.

He had to eat souls, she did the legwork to fight for those souls, and now… he has to picture what it’d feel like if it were the other way around.

Soul’s spine straightens at the sound of her foot shuffling.

He doesn’t have perception or a special wavelength, but most people don’t. He also doesn’t move as quickly as she does, but that’s something that he could probably work on if he wanted… Besides, he works better thinking quickly and figuring things out on the fly, more of a backseat “observe and adapt” kinda guy than he prefers to admit.

Though that does make him wonder what would make him decide to pursue being a Meister to begin with……

Soul meanders forward a little when her steps continue.

Would it be for the same reason he left as a Weapon? Would he have even considered that as a possibility, taken his life in another direction even if it wasn’t sparked from an existing passion?

...Would he still be willing to defend her life even if he had nothing to do it with?

Soul peeks out at her steady approach toward the spiral’s center.

Of course he would, she’s his partner, he’d do everything he could to keep her safe even if it meant risking himself, Weapon or not. The scar embedded across his chest was a reminder of that, one that would remain for the rest of his life… But would he do it again?

Soul watches her progress.

Would he still take the hit for her if he was on the other end? Would he have even gone into that fight if he’d known the danger that they were in?

Would they have even been there to begin with if it’d been a different night?

Soul stares directly at the crystals hanging directly above her head.

Could he have done something to prevent it in the first place?

“That doesn’t look safe.”

Maka looks at him confused, but all he can see is the light dropping and shattering her. “The chandelier, it looks like it’s going to fall any minute.”

“Oh.” Threat swayed in his gut as she simply gazed upward, and especially when her returned smile defied all risk. “I think it looks sturdy enough – Here, you should see it with me. I can jump out of the way if it starts moving.”

He wanted to shout, rebel against the impending dread and get her away from the looming danger as quickly as possible, yet timidly he walked to take her hand, trust peering up at a newfound view unfolding above him.

The light reflected through all the individual crystals, bringing each one to life against the dark horizon, like stars shining through a midnight sky. In the middle of course was the moon, so radiant it formed a complete circle with its luminescent shards now its crowning petals.

It was… rather pretty, actually.

Her fingers felt warm in between his, her eyes illuminated brilliantly even if it was lit with a bit of I told you so, though genuinely he could sense it was more for getting to share the experience than anything.

He sighs out an awkward show of teeth, smile inevitably mirroring hers while a glint of curiosity eventually rekindled. “So, do you remember what you were wanting to ask me?”

A stammer drops his jaw and flusters it helplessly as his mind proceeds to replay through everything again.

Maybe in truth he always did have that question in the back of his head, but maybe it isn’t one he ever needed to ask. She was always there for him, ready to take his hand whenever the moment needed it, and him… Maybe he just worries too much.

Despite everything she really was strong. Maybe that’s what really made them partners.

“Oh, uh...” Soul loosens out a goofy little chuckle before lifting it away back to the ceiling, deciding it was probably better to just enjoy what good did manage to come from all this nothing nonsense.

“Ah, not really…...”

But the questions still remained.

.

His face finally emerges out of the red hot liquid, lungs gasping desperately as if the engulfing heat crushing his body was soaking right into his chest.

This… This isn’t……

Metallic sting blurs his vision, but even before he fights to free his eyes open he already sinks in the weight of the surrounding sea, a seemingly bottomless chasm of blood. The worst part is it wasn’t his. The best part is it’s everyone else’s.

His face contorts through several wild emotions until it collapses into laughter at how comforting it actually is.

He slips back into submersion while laughing and laughs at how great it would be if they all joined him.

.

.

Part 5 – Regret

Their fingers tense together when the light flickers yet again, fading into a fixture much more dim and plain. The dark ceiling mellows into a dull grey, which fell over the rest of the walls except for the rust spread along the floor slightly over them, the odd monotony only noticeably broken by the frequent smears and splotches of pitch black ink seemingly coated by someone’s haphazard wandering.

Soul didn’t like this room.

The two remain in hand even while this shift leaves both unsettled before an interrupting echo of bare footsteps break them apart, his arm naturally extended in front of her to prepare guarding her from their unexpected visitor.

It was Soul. It also wasn’t: He wore casually untidy clothes different from him, but the main thing that set them apart was his stare, hollow yet wide as if he didn’t have lids while a smile wore halfheartedly on his open lips.

It wasn’t necessarily with hostility but it was… off, in every way imaginable.

This was especially true as he then followed up with digging his fingertips into the edges of his teeth, running the dark ooze along the end of his tongue until it all fell to the side, Soul’s entire body recoiling into disgust while more ink dripped onto the unclean floor.

And then it spoke.

“Look who just showed up.”

His voice coming out of that face was low and raspy, his tone accusatory and straight to the point as he stood his ground. “Who the hell are you?”

It only laughed.

“Do you think you’re the main character or somethin’? That you can’t feel pain? That I couldn’t just beat the shit out of you and let you watch her die? Do you really think you’re fuckin’ invincible or some shit?”

The stammer caught in his throat was quickly interrupted by Maka shouting beside him. “What do you want with us?!”

“Could you actually kill him if you needed to? Would you watch him die if you had to?” They both shuffled back as it began approaching.

“Did you really believe your actions don’t have consequences?”

.

Soul watches as the pitch black rushes toward him.

Soul watches as his chest tears wide open.

Soul watches as molten flesh rains from his skin.

Soul watches as his body melts into the floor.

Soul hears a scream as he can no longer gasp out from his crushed lungs.

Soul’s back slams into something, air unable to pass in or out as his sneer continues toward him.

“Do you really want to die for her? Do you actually want to keep feeling that pain?” He locks up when a hand rams right next to his head, trapping laughter nearly broken into screaming. “You want to be ripped open again?! You want another scar matching the other way, or fuck it you can just tear all of it off and start all the fuck over again!! Maybe if you keep getting hurt enough you can finally get it through your thick fucking skull just how mu– ”

Force blurs by too fast for him to understand what it was, but eventually he registers it as Maka pinning him to the ground before her fist collides with his face, a confusing calm numbing into passive silence when she just… keeps going.

Every hit was struck with her full weight, repetition until black kept splattering out and yelling, wailing even, rang indecipherably through the stiff air, continuously reverberating against the cracking mush even when it’d long stopped moving. Eventually, her chest only heaved, quieted except for a choke he then identified as sobbing, shaking as she soon lifted herself and slowly turned with a whine leaking out from underneath the mess of ink and tears.

“I’m sorry...”

He remained motionless while her posture tightened and started curling into itself.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…...”

He should do something. Say something, walk to her, move her away from the body.

But he did nothing.

Felt nothing, didn’t know what to feel or do or say, just watched her face drip and sounds shaking her downward before a fit of chuckling snaps them both back.

The body began lifting up, head pulleying from some invisible string while darkness spilled out where his face had been onto its clothes, painting all of it black as his voice hollered out undeterred.

“Damn girl, you really just shot past Wrath and dropped straight into Violence!”

Boisterous cackling spasms from the spew of ebony as it then erupts into dozens of pale wings, all writhing and coveting the front of its head while its back burst and sprayed out into four greater wings, two black, two red. Eyes of dark rings and crimson split open upon their feathers, staring and dripping more ink onto the pool now consuming the flooring.

Fear, dread coiled around his chest, steps quickly unsteady when the wall scoops him up and slams a cage door over him, silver bars to match the golden cage now also surrounding her.

“Maka!”

There was no time for even a response, the body hopping up on top of his imprisonment for its weight to swiftly plunge him into the abyss with a howl.

“Going dooooown!!”

He barely catches the chain lifting her up as fast as he descended, his stomach churning with nothing to grab onto while he plummeted, faster and faster through the darkness, until suddenly the stop jars him, leaving his side crashed into the now swaying cage.

It didn’t take him long to realize he was currently being suspended right over a sea of red, the heat and stench no doubt being blood, pooled in a horizonless dark chasm that made him recoil before his voice resumes its tune.

“So, did you really want to die for her?”

His head whips up to his body still crouching over him, rage now finally reaching its boiling point. “Is there really something so wrong with wanting to protect her?!”

“No, you still don’t get it. Let me spell it out for you then:”

.

.

Part 6 – Isolation

“You’re all alone now.”

Fingers grip over the bars as it crawls halfway down, looming over him upside-down with innumerable white feathers squirming through the gaps.

“You swore to dying for her. Kept carrying all the weight of the pain so she wouldn’t feel hurt.” Its large wings outstretch, eyes crying crimson that dripped meaninglessly into the rest of it. “This is your consequence.”

His laugh then echoed against the metal as it climbed back up to the cage’s chain.

“I’m going to leave you now and let you wallow in it, all to yourself just like you wanted.”

The cage sways a little more while its hands and feet pull it along the chain’s length, Soul’s palms slamming into the sides while shooting upright. “He- Hey!”

It continued making its way up until eventually it faded into the obscurity of the shadow above,  the silence soon deafening even when his back landed into the bars again, sliding and curling his chest against his knees with his arms limping around them. Despite the heat steaming from below, he only felt cold, empty, and… alone.

A sniffle trembles his shoulders, breath unsteady while his arms coil in tighter to hold it in place. His eyes wander through the abyss and are offered nothing in return, nothing left for him but the memories and his words.

Upon reflecting, the blood directly in front of his view begins to bubble, raising into a mirror image who’s head just barely left the surface.

His wild hair floated and dragged onto his pale face, draping around his dark round eyes in a way that gave more resemblance to a fish, especially when the surrounding pool streamed out of its mouth, freeing out a soft murmuring hoarseness.

“Hey, you seem lost.”

Soul’s lungs stuttered before finally cracking his voice out. “Yeah…...”

“Yeah, me too.”

He blinks at him for awhile before chiming in again.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?”

Soul swallows the pressure still sitting in his throat, a sigh tumbling out while meekly looking away. “I dunno, I guess… I just wanted to keep Maka safe because that’s what I’m supposed to do, but now it’s like I wasn’t supposed to, or I’m doing it wrong or something……...”

“You care about her a lot though, right?”

Soul nods. “...Yeah, but… I think I hurt her…...” One long breath shudders out from his sniff. “...Not, not physically but, I think I hurt her from… not talking about it…… Like how much it still hurts even though I ignore it and just keep saying I’ll keep getting hurt for her………...”

“Not all acts of good are wise, and not all acts of evil are foolish, but still we should strive to be the best that we can be.”

Soul peers up at his light smile.

“I don’t think it was really your fault. You just did what you thought was best and sometimes there’s no real clear answer, especially when it’s something you’ve never really dealt with before.”

He watches him for another moment, smile continuing.

“It’s never too late, by the way. You can ask her about it yourself if you still want to.”

Soul slowly perks up, even if unsteady. “...How? I’m still locked down here...”

“You care a lot about Maka’s pain, but are you willing to try caring for your pain too?”

Soul pauses, until eventually, he nods again.

“Then let me help open the door for you. You just have to get up top and start climbing.”

Out of the blood then emerges arms upon arms of pale hands, countless fingers reaching and grabbing the cage steady before a few stray limbs pull the side bars away.

Soul swallows, cautious, but soon lifting himself up and crouching through the doorway to hang against the other side, feet balancing onto a couple palms that carefully bring him level enough to the roof for him to now stand on top of it. His grip clings tightly to the chain’s links, tense as he looks back at his unmoving reflection one last time.

“Just keep climbing and don’t let go!”

And with a deep breath, he begins his ascent, steadily working his way up, one step at a time.

.

.

Part 7 – Perseverance

His hands interchanged their grip around the chain as he persisted his journey upward, his feet dutifully following each motion while passing onto each stair step. It was a long hall, dull in a truly neutral grey, inclined so extensively that the horizon remained consistently vague.

The weight of the climb already dragged on him. Exhaustion ached his body, weakened his stride under the uncertainty of any visible end. Made his arms plead this was good enough, his legs beg that it wasn’t worth it, but he knew that she would have tried to her fullest and that she’d want him to succeed too, so he carried on.

Beside his climbing this hall appeared just spacious enough to be able to host another person next to him, bringing along its reminder that he was traveling solo. A twinge of burning sparked from it, twisting over how he was left enduring this, but he smothered it in knowing she would gladly extend her hand for him if she was here and settled into gratitude, simply hoping she is safe.

Yet that spark reinvigorated itself much more furiously, a loathing now falling directly upon himself. Maybe this fate truly was deserved, a punishment for his consequences being truly just deserts. Though it soon tempers when memories wash back in, both of her lament despite best intentions and the newfound promise he’d sworn, mellowing him into holding for the chance to make things right again.

...But does it even matter? Would anything actually change in the end, if there even is an end to this? Scars heal on their own, don’t they? What difference does it make between just getting over it and throwing the pain at someone else…… But… The pain wasn’t just physical. He was terrified, still scared it could happen again, happen to her, and the darkness that came with it never left his head. That stuff doesn’t just go away, even if you bury it. And seeing how she still reached for him and wanted to be at his side despite the hurt inflicted on her, maybe she… Maybe it’ll be okay, if she helps him unearth it, even just at his own pace.

His footsteps lightened and fueled his hastening, determination empowering as a feeling then squirmed in his chest. It murmurs to him that they’d been happier when he kept the question to himself, yet he reminded it of how she was the one who asked him again first. When it pointed toward his controlling worry, stubbornly fighting her meeting in the middle, he counters that even with their different views she still believed in him trusting her, and the weight of his body lifted at the experiences they can still share together.

The feeling began gnawing on him, told him that he was just using her for his own gain. Yet he stood his ground, firm in their efforts being mutual while assured that neither of them will leave each other behind, and his legs raised him higher than ever at the goals they can still both work for.

And finally it seethed, demanded that she’s already rejected his selfishness. And he contented, knowing that she’ll be waiting for him the same way he would for her. Because they’re partners, and that’s what partners do, so his arms kept reaching with greater fervor at the connection they can still call theirs.

Calm eased through him, the feeling quieted as it simply asked what it was he truly wanted.

He just wanted to be with her again.

Suddenly the hallway begins to shimmer, that monotony reflecting brilliantly, almost blinding, as pure light engulfed everything surrounding him. Hope hurried his ascent, hands outstretched until they latch onto a much sturdier link, turning that light red as he pushes past it and through the heavy curtains where his eyes soon adjusted to a familiar shade of reds and shadows.

The Black Room.

To his relief, the first thing he notices is Maka – black dress swishing around her as she shot up from the lone chair sitting aways from the curtain.

“Soul!”

Waves of emotion float a smile on up until it quickly sinks when he also registers the noise, head turning beyond the fabric to watch another version of himself – a black suit with a face obscured by long bangs, swaying as it played that dark piano in a tune he immediately recognized. Soul looks back at her pouting.

“He’s been playing Für Elise nonstop for several times in a row now.”

The way she huffed that sentence out made him want to laugh, instead only blinking while deciding to ask the more important question in any case. “Are you doing okay though?”

“Aside from having this song engrained into my soul, yeah.”

He snickers at her wryness before it softens up considerably.

“What about you – Are you okay?”

His breath tenses up, gut reaction stuttering it until it jolts when a harsh stray note drops the room into stiff silence, that other self now looming his direction like a weeping willow with roots of midnight judgement. Soul swallows, then shutting the door behind him as he finally takes a step forward, voice meek.

“...No.”

Maka stills, tone unchanged but remaining gentle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really...” He’s quick to follow up his mutter with a sharp sigh. “...but I need to ask you.”

She moves forward a few paces slowly, patiently awaiting as he spends a moment composing himself, and eventually he forces the words out.

“Do you…...” One breath at a time.

“Do you hate me?”

Her brows furrow, confused. “Hate you?”

“Are you mad at me. For getting hurt… and… not talking about it…… acting like it never happened, and just… saying I’ll keep getting hurt, even though……...” His chest shudders, constricted. “...it still hurts…...”

She takes a deep steady inhale, thinking, his eyes vulnerable while she answers calmly.

“No, I’m not mad. I’m frustrated, but I’m frustrated about a lot of things; I’m frustrated that you got hurt, and I’m frustrated because I feel like I could have done better, but I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault.”

The constriction winds up his throat and her sigh lifts, not quite into a smile, just something positive.

“I genuinely appreciate that you’re still here, and that you’re being open with me. It means a lot and...” Her body audibly tenses. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that you’re hurting.”

Maka watches his breath sway uneven, teetering until he timidly walks toward her. He can’t say for certain when those old Black Room clothes slipped onto him but that was never surprising, fingers gripping along the seams of his slacks like a child shaming away from its parent’s imminent disappointment as he closed their distance, Soul now standing only a few feet away.

His stance wobbles, aches at her heavy exhale, and finally the weight truly collapses him, slumping onto her shoulder as the air all chokes out.

“I’m so scared. I’m so afraid of you getting hurt and I can’t do anything about it. I’m fucking terrified I’m going to lose control and one day you’re going to end up dead because of me.” Heat sputters from his chest even under the warmth of their arms embracing closer. “I hate that I’m not as strong as you are. I hate that I keep making you feel like shit because I can’t deal with being weak. I hate this stupid fucking curse and having a demon in my head all the time that keeps telling me it’s my fault you’re going to get hurt next.”

Moisture leaks down from his face but he doesn’t care, just holds onto her more, never wants to let go while sobs continue pouring out.

“It hurts so much. My scar never stops aching and I try to forget about it and hope it just goes away. I keep having nightmares over and over again about when it happened and it happening to you and me hurting you, and it… it fucking sucks. I wish it would stop but I don’t tell you about it because I know you blame yourself, I know you think you’re the reason I got hurt, but you’re not. You didn’t do this to me, life just fucked us over and...”

His voice was loud, ugly, and a mess, but it was his. It was both of theirs.

“...It’s not fair. It’s not fair Maka.”

All he could do was cry, both of them. Just finally let out all the pain he’d been carrying for far too long now, let go of the burden he tried to keep shouldered on his own, and let her help lift the weight that had sunken his chest away from hers.

In that moment their grief was deeply shared, and his shadow, now moving back to whence it came, finally brought that fallboard to its close.

.

.

Part 8 – Resolve

Soul scoots the piano bench out a little before taking a seat away from the instrument behind him.

It was a wonder they even managed to clean the mess from their faces, but he was feeling tons better now, and judging by how she comfortably sat next to him it seemed she felt the same way. He wasn’t sure where that other version of him went, hadn’t seen when it’d even left, but that too was a welcome change as they simply got to have the room to themselves for the time being. And with a nice, calm breath of relief, quietly his voice lifts up to her again with a timid glance.

“Thank you, for um… listening to me.”

Maka welcomes it with her own lighthearted smile. “Hey, you know I’m here for you when you need it – I really am glad you came to talk to me about it.” She then laughs aside a little. “I think we definitely both needed this, anyway.”

He follows, albeit weakly. “Yeah, sorry, I just…… It’s not easy, um… talking about this kinda stuff...” And smirks awkwardly. “Sorry for being kind’ve a jackass about it.”

“Hey, it’s okay, I get it. It’s been hard to deal with, but you know… I’m proud of you, for reaching out. I know it takes a lot of strength to do that.”

Their eyes remain locked, stammer caught in his throat all over again until he gives it up, gaze averted down to his fingers aimlessly fidgeting with themselves even when his voice eventually squirms its way out, quiet but genuine. “Thank you.”

The two then simply wallow in each other’s company, thoughts just drifting through his hands before deciding it’d be okay to keep freeing them up.

“So, um… How did you end up here?” He gestures vaguely around the room to clarify. “Like nothing bad happened before I got here?”

“Oh, no I just...” She thinks briefly, answer facing the chair she’d first been waiting in.

“He said I was free to go, but I didn’t want to leave you here so I just waited for you to come back since I knew you would.”

A laugh returns over to him, shining through all uncertainties. “Pretty sure he was trying to get me to leave though.”

Soul chuckles lightly, soaking in both the warmth of her mirth and lighting curiosity, then willingly indulging it to lean more into its comfort.

“Yeah, it was pretty weird down there, but uh… Basically I promised I’d try to care about myself more, and I climbed up for awhile to get here. It definitely kinda sucked but um...”

He looks up to her with full sincerity.

“...It was a question I needed to ask you.”

And Maka extends her full appreciation in return.

“That’s good, I’m glad you made it out.”

Though his face does become a bit restless when a gentle humour makes her start to shy away. “...I do feel a little embarrassed though now that I know what the question was actually about.”

He scrunches. “...What did you think it was about?”

More laughter shoots out while she flutters about nervously.

“Well y’know… You suddenly pulling me aside into an empty room after you looked like you really wanted something all day, and I just… I don’t know.” The emphasis of her hands flopping down mesmerizes him, leaving the gears in his head slowly turning until they begin speeding up and contorting his expression through several unexplainable emotions before she cuts it off, huffing.

“Look: Just because I can see your soul doesn’t mean I know what you’re actually thinking half the time.” Huff then muttering into a pout. “Boys are weird, okay?”

This finally breaks him, uproarious cackling shaking haphazardly before he whips back enthusiastically. “Girls are also weird!”

“They’re all weird: People are weird.”

The deadpan quickly descends him further and drags her along with him, taking him a solid good minute to catch his breath for when he eventually meets her again, voice softened despite his sharp grin.

“You really are my best friend, though.”

He soon hesitates, fingers back to fidgeting with the seam. “...No offense to everyone else, obviously, you’re just um… You’re the coolest person I know and I genuinely appreciate you being there for me.” And he then faces her in complete earnest. “I want to care about both of us.”

So she truly meets him in the middle. “We both can.”

Their shared admiration beams while he extends his hand, her gladly taking it even before he asks.

“Partners?”

“Partners.”

Newly kindled hope and determination sparks up from within the bond of their resolve, igniting Soul’s sharkiest grin and Maka’s telltale smirk, which soon slips into something unexpectedly casual. “Hey do you wanna go get ice cream?”

He snorts. “Yeah, y’know what I’ve had enough of this room – We can keep moving forward together but who says we can’t also live life how we want too you know?”

“Live life and fuck Medusa.”

The two begin to stand up as he nods in full agreement. “Fuck Medusa.”

And as he shambles up onto his own two feet, hand firmly in hand, they both walk together side by side across those old checker tiles and eagerly chatter all through the exit, finally finding peace in closing that door shut.

.

Gently he picked the teacup up, letting the aroma drift in before taking a nice sip proper.

Ah, what a pleasant blend.

Quite well done if he says so himself, pairs excellently with the early morning view upon this balcony. A crisp delicate flavour to match a cool yet refreshing sunrise, to which the sun itself greets the day already hard at work.

Yes, this shall be a good day indeed.

He takes another fine sip, most certainly pleased with himself on its taste. Two creams, two sugars.

A good blend always needs a good balance in sweetness, though it was no lie he tended to be a bit more indulgent than most. Perhaps he’ll dare to make a visit today, but who would he be fooling to say he doesn’t make this consideration every day…

He sets the teacup onto its platter, soft clatter then reaching the table he seats at before his eloquent voice finally comes to life.

“I bet you’re wondering where the probable ruse lies, if perhaps it were all a dream or such events holds no bearing beyond the imagination.”

He lifts his cane resting faithfully by his side to give it a graceful twirl, suddenly halting to face its head up for a grand emphasis.

“Fool! The story was but in twain; It happened long ago, you see.”

The end is then swiftly brought upon the floor, like a gavel signifying its supreme judgement.

“Well done, the two you so followed did not meet lips. I’m sure such a challenge was quite trialing, but the reward of your efforts must be well worthwhile. Perhaps you’ve gained greater wisdom for further endeavors, even.”

With a flick of his wrist his magnificent hat tips, parting with a gentleman’s last word.

“And so it would appear our time together now comes to a close, but fret not – We may meet again if you so wish. Always more stories to tell, more secrets to unveil… Some possibly even already upon the horizon, hm.

Until then: fare thee well!”

[lunaetis]

─「エデン」─  she was every bit as stubborn and competitive as he was. so of course, she was going to take his remark as a challenge. it was likely that he knew exactly what the EFFECT of those words were to her which was why he phrased it like that. he didn't even get his taunting out fully when she made her move, and indeed her ATTACK caught him off-guard. the smirk on her lips was ever so presented, amused by the growl erupting from the back of his throat. she knew that sound all too well.

                she opened her mouth to give a comeback when he accused her of cheating. his frame maneuver around her and hovered over — what was he planning ?

                the sound of FIREWORKS did nothing to distract her from the feel of fangs sinking down upon her neck. unlike the people around them who whipped their heads up to the colors exploding in the dark sky, the realization of what he had just DONE shot through her with a spark. cheeks immediately flushed as hand hovered over the newly created mark despite not seeing it.

                she could feel the throb on her skin. there was no need to look at a mirror to know.

                " you did not just — " golden hues widened, words disappeared down her throat as she stared at him wide-eyed. he looked utterly proud of himself as he straightened up his coat with a SMUG SMILE stretching so obviously over his features. her heart thumped loudly against her ribcage. he did. eden knew that he was competitive, but for him to be that daring to pull such a stunt really left her speechless. the burning of her cheeks only intensified over the mention of the taste of her lip balm.

                it took her a few moments of visibly taking a few deep breath and a rub of her neck to calm down. she partially covered the lower half of her face, though the blush on her cheeks was too glaringly obvious to ignore. they were standing in queue now, so the TRALBLAZER couldn't pull any risky moves to even the scores without drawing attention. oh, this doctor. seeing how pleased he was with himself, she couldn't help elbowing him lightly in the stomach, trying to knock him down a peg. the gingerbread cookies were less of importance than the fact that this time lord just bit her nape.

                " since when are you this bold ? "

-> THE TIMELORD HAS SEVERAL TRICKS UP HIS SLEEVE, ways to throw his trailblazer off her game without a moment's notice that he's prepared well in advance. He knows if he gives even the slightest bit of territory the points in their game will be flipped to his disadvantage, something he can't afford to happen just yet. He can see the hints of mischief in her eyes after his kiss like she's plotting something against him with every waking moment between them.

"Fair and balanced? I disagree Eden." He can't help the laugh that echoes forth from his lips at the feigned seriousness, he's unafraid to admit that there's bliss in the way she smiles and laughs at the little antics, how she seemed to light up at the game of stolen kisses without a care in the world as she begins to inch closer. " Oh? Thinking you're going to meet the CHALLENGE head on are you? Give it your best shot Sei-."

Her remark is the only warning he gets aside from the way the atmosphere seems to shift, warning of the presence of a wolf in the near vicinity with an almost electric tingle in the air. Had he paid more attention, maybe he would've seen the canines poking out of her mouth before she pulled him down with his tie, electing a growl in response to her actions as he begins to spin on his feet, sliding behind to lean closer to her neck. "That's cheating-" The gangly man doesn't give more warning than that, timing the rapid bite to the nape of her neck with the fireworks beginning to light the sky above them.

It takes him a few minutes to straighten out his jacket from leaning down, smoothing the creases in his coat as he wraps his arm through hers with a self-satisfied look in his umber hues, all too proud of how perfectly they'd timed their little game to coincide with the biggest distractions possible. It's rare for the duo to act like this in public, to make a game of snaking bites and sneaky kisses for all to see, yet they enjoyed it nonetheless, the gangly being all too proud of the light marks on her neck in return for the hinting canines poking from her mouth.

" You can have double points, my dear, only if I get the same for MY bites." There's a smugness in his tone as he leads her back towards the stall, fingers reaching to trace the smudged gold that danced across her face in waves of glee at the fact they'd made the draw up yet again. "I don't think anything is sweeter than the taste of strawberries Sei-." He couldn't resist shooting back with the taste of strawberries that lingered on her lips as they deftly moved towards the queue. "Might have to taste again to be certain."