#it was so hard to find these in good quality and every hour searching for it was worth it

[entishramblings]

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy Art by Ise Ananphada

[risuola]

▶ ONE BEDROOM? — short memory about how you found yourself sharing a bed with two of your best friends.

contents: college+roommates!au, fluffy, silly Satoru, caring Suguru and all that jazz — wc. 916

a/n: feel free to send me suggestions for entries of this series! any specific situations you think might be funny? any topics that sound interesting to you? let me know!

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Alright, I found one,” Satoru informed, a grin of mischief tugging on his lips and both you and Suguru knew immediately that there are some gears turning below the mop of white hair of your best friend. “Near our uni, rent’s cheaper than any other we looked at, it looks nice, and there’s even a balcony for the addict. Available anytime.”

It sounded too good to be true, really. You’ve been looking for weeks now, desperate to find the right balance between the price and quality and it turned out to be the hardest thing you had to face in your lives. It was honestly a nightmare, turned out that you were way too late to find a rental with three rooms in the college area – everything was already taken and you were forced to scratch the idea of all having separate rooms. Two bedrooms, turned out, were just as hard to find. You were slowly coming to terms that you’re gonna have to either spend three hours in metro every day just to get in and out of uni or pay an unreasonable amount of money just to live even moderately close. In your head, you already saw yourself searching for the second job.

“Where’s the catch?” Suguru’s raised an eyebrow, his mind analytic as always and his questioning tone matched your thoughts perfectly. He wrapped one arm around your waist and reached with the other to snatch a phone out of Gojo’s hands, but the snow-whites grin grew even wider as he dodged the attempt. You could feel your friend taking a deeper breath behind your back, you were seated next to him, resting against his body whilst Satoru was on the floor, with his head comfortably on your thigh. “Is it one of those ‘rent a room along with ten other students’ kind of deal?”

“Nah, it’s a separate apartment. It’s not big, by any means, but as far as I’m concerned, it should be more than enough for us,” you reached your hand, but instead of giving you his phone, Gojo put his chin on your palm, smiling with the typical amount of cat-like mischief. “In fact,” he said, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a loud pop and threatening to lick you. The trail of sticky sugar covering his lips in a reddish tint from the cherry, his favorite, flavored candy. “I already sent a message to the renter.”

“Toru, spill it,” you pushed, pinching his cheek and with a theatrical roll of his pretty blue eyes, he put his phone into your hand, sticking the candy back into his mouth. You leaned back against Suguru’s chest again and with his head on your shoulder, you swiped through the pictures of the offer. “It… does look nice?”

“Sus,” the brunette mumbled, reaching to swipe over the screen with his own finger. “Very sus. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Satoru said in fake offense and got up to his knees to peek on what you two were doing, sticking his nose in front of the screen so aggressively that you had to push him away. “But—”

“Wait, is there one bedroom in this apartment?” You noticed. The pictures you were analyzing all showed the same room and the living area with joined kitchen, the bathroom, and again the same room, and some weird kind of storage? and again the same room.

“That explains a lot,” Suguru laughed lightly and leaned back again.

“We can see the place in an hour” Satoru showed off his pearly whites. “Come on, let’s at least see it, yeah?”

“I guess we can see it,” you gave it a nod. “The price is really nice.”

“Alright… so let’s get going.”

And so, all of you hopped on the bikes, you behind Satoru, and took the ride to see the apartment. Turned out, it really was perfect. Despite the apartment having just one bedroom, it was spacious enough to fit all three of you. The bed was so big it could easily fit five and during the many years of friendship, you and two of your friends shared way too many single person mattresses, sandwiched and squished together to think twice about it. The odd storage room seemed to be a perfect candidate to become a guest room (later called: a fuck room).

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Satoru grinned, looking at both of you as he was bouncing his ass on the bed, testing it as if he was already the owner.

“It is nice, I’ll admit,” you said, looking at Suguru to hear his opinion, but the man seemed to be thinking still. “Sug?”

“For me, it’s perfect. But,” he looked at you, a concern clearly written in his eyes, “is it alright with you?”

Geto has a way of constantly reminding you why you love him. He doesn’t look like it, in fact, he looks quite intimidating to anyone who doesn’t know him, but to you he’s just the sweetest, most caring friend you could ever wish for. If anyone was to worry about your comfort, it was him because it is true that all three of you slept together already, sharing sheets and being as close and personal as it was possible, but a random sleepover doesn’t equal sleeping with them every single day.

“It’s fine with me, don’t worry,” you reassured him, squeezing his bicep playfully.

“If it’s fine with you, then I guess we have a place.”

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams

[naughtyjjk]

pent up nanami kento

characters: nanami x fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, pretty much standard what you'd expect it's my first time posting! i might write more jjk smut in the future if people are interested :)

the long hours of overtime have been getting to nanami and your schedules have rarely lined up recently. it’s been weeks since the two of you have had quality time together. the dry period has been affecting nanami more than he’d like to admit and he can’t help getting distracted at work sometimes, thinking about you and all the things he wants to do to you once he gets the chance.

he’s never been like this before, thoughts flooded with dirty images of you. what if you showed up to his office and surprised him in a tight skirt and unbuttoned dress shirt, revealing your cleavage? in his current state, he knows that he wouldn’t be able to control himself. nanami would bend you over the nearest desk and bring his body close to yours. his hands reach around to hold your breasts, the erection between his legs pressed up right against your pussy.

in your ear, he growls, “are you trying to tempt me?”

“yes,” you whisper, melting under his touch. his fingers are rubbing at your nipples through your clothes, hips rocking gently against yours.

just the thought of it has nanami growing hard in his pants. he looks down to see the obvious bulge where his dick is straining against the fabric and he squeezes his legs together, trying his best to hide his arousal. he doesn’t know how he’s going to make it through the rest of the day at this rate.

it feels like hours before he finally gets home. he’s still just as turned on, and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you the whole time. and if you’re not there—well. he’ll just have to get himself off even if it means jerking off while fantasizing about you because he needs the relief. it’s become unbearable how horny he is.

but thankfully, you’re home today, too. as soon as nanami sees you in the kitchen, he pins you against the wall and kisses you. it takes you by surprise, but you’ll never complain about kissing the man you love. eventually, he starts to trail kisses down your neck, sucking at your collarbone, and you realize that he wants more. you notice the tent between his legs.

“you’re so pent up, aren’t you?”

nanami groans when you slide a hand down his chest, palming at his hard dick. his hips buck forward uncontrollably, wanting more of your touch. you can feel how big he is, and how badly he wants it.

“fuck,” he says. “let’s take this to the bedroom.”

your clothes are discarded and nanami throws you on the bed, climbing on top of you. he’s gorgeous—broad chest, well-toned abs, strong thighs. his cock is flushed and leaking, and his eyes are dark, filled with desire. he leans in to take one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it expertly.

the tip of his cock rubs against your entrance but he doesn’t push in yet. “you want this, too,” nanami whispers in your ear. “tell me you want it.”

the words make you shudder, and you squirm as he continues to tease you. “ah—please!”

“good girl.” seeing you under him and begging to be fucked, nanami can’t hold back anymore. he sinks into you, pushing into the tight heat of your pussy. both of you moan at the same time as the full length of his cock penetrates you, taking a moment to adjust.

then he begins to pull out, dragging his cock against your walls until only the tip remains inside. without warning, he snaps his hips forward, filling you up again. he thrusts into you over and over, searching for your sweet spot and aiming there every time once he finds it.

it’s mesmerizing to watch him make smooth rolls of his hips as he fucks you hard. his grunts and moans and the sounds turn you on even more. you almost scream when he picks up the pace, going much faster and deeper than before.

“that’s it, you’re taking my cock so well.” nanami’s voice is low and raspy. he’s panting hot breaths by your ear. “you feel so fucking good.”

he brings one hand to your clit and rubs circles, knowing that you’re extra sensitive there. you throw your head back, gasping and moaning, and you can’t think straight anymore. it’s overwhelming. your thighs are shaking, you’re getting really close—

“come,” nanami says. “come for me, baby.”

he pounds into you relentlessly and your mouth falls open, orgasm rushing through your body, back arching. you cry out his name as you come. nanami loves watching you fall apart and lose control, knowing that he’s the one who made you feel this much pleasure. he groans when you clench around him and he’s chasing his own climax now, hips stuttering as his cock pulses inside you.

he thrusts one more time and you feel a burst of warmth as he spills deep inside you. nanami comes in spurts, filling you up with his release. it’s nasty and sticky and feels so good that you miss him when he pulls out. he collapses on the bed, still holding you and giving you a kiss as you lie there together.

it’s not so bad to see his pent-up side sometimes.

[pinep-ne]

hi !!!!!! have some of my.very domestic and happy charthur headcanons !!!!!

yapping ahead....

- BIG huggers. Long day? Bear hug. Good morning? Full embrace. Both arms, entirely wrapped around each other, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. If they aren't in a rush they'll often take the time to just stand and sway.

- Nearly by habit, when they're close enough, Charles will feel for Arthur's heartbeat. Be it his ear upon Arthur's chest, or throat, or wrist, he's always searching for its rhythm. Likely as an anchor— the knowledge that he is here, alive, and they are here together.

- Charles tends to communicate with actions. Making dinner in the evening because his fuse was short that morning. Sorry for snapping at you earlier. I did the afternoon's chores so we can nap together. But you don't know that. You'll only find me on the sofa and fall into my arms without question and everything will be settled and okay.

- Arthur can be similar, but is usually the opposite. Like his mentors taught him, to confront situations head-on. He gets face-to-face, sometimes hours later, either wringing his hands together or trying hard to look collected. For the littlest things, it's important to him to be heartfelt. A frantic need to dust every corner of an argument.

- Arthur is the morning person. Must free himself from the shackles of Charles' arms every morning. Bright and beaming at 5 a.m. sharp.

- They take turns info-dumping. Charles does it a lot more. Arthur's happy to listen, always.

- Arthur leaves drawings and scrap notes on Charles' end table.

- They're both very sentimental, but Arthur's a lot more decorative. He's filled their humble home with trinkets and oddities and art (his, mostly).

- Washing your partner's hair as a love language. Thanks.

- Arthur's one of the only people that can get Charles to really fully laugh. Charles would cover it with a hand over his mouth before Arthur fawned enough that his smile was just the prettiest thing.

- Arthur proposed. Thanks.

- It took years to be comfortable. Mostly out of apprehension. Physically, especially. Nothing but fleeting touches unless it were entirely private. They still aren't very open; quality time is enough. Charles is more fond of touch.

- This is kind of canon anyways, but it's second-nature for them to check up on the other. Arthur's worse with it— Charles is harder to read.

- They don't chat a lot throughout the day. They're both night owls and get more talkative as the evening goes.

- Charles honkkkk mimimimi

- Arthur auuuhhhhhhhhhh shoo

- Arthur big spoons. Thanks.

[cl0ckworkpuppet]

time for my monthly mp3 player propaganda post!

yall. don't fucking stream music off of youtube or spotify. they pay their creators shit. the most generous estimate i could find was artists being paid $1 for every 200 streams (0.5¢ per stream), and unless you're listening to songs on an album thousands times in total, it helps tremendously more to just. buy their albums or subscribe to a patreon-like service for them

mp3 players are laughably inexpensive (you can get a decent one with bluetooth for like $40-50 and you can get away with even less if you forego some features), many of them are drag-and-drop, no ads, decent enough sound quality for the average person, unlimited skips, track selection, regular play and shuffle, playlists, being able to shut off your screen, and more importantly, ALL OF THIS IS AVAILABLE WITHOUT A SUBSCRIPTION. i've always been an avid hater of subscription models. there are some things where it's understandable, but you shouldn't lose access to basic QOL features just because you can't or won't fork over $10-15 a month.

"b-b-but $50 is so expensive!" WRONG. $50 (which is more than i've EVER spend on a single mp3 player) is the equivalent to 5 months on spotify premium without discounts. if you can afford that, it's worth investing into a device that can last you literal years if you get a good one and take good care of it

"but i don't wanna carry around another device!" fair enough, but these things are small enough to fit in tiny pockets (mine fits snugly in the watch pocket of my jeans) and are typically light enough to not be burdensome. if you can carry around your phone, you can carry around an mp3 player

"what if people think i'm weird for having outdated technology" let them. it's worth it in my opinion if it means i get to listen to music ad-free. the most I've ever gotten was "wooooah bro's got the dinosaur tech" and i just thought that was funny personally

"but what if the artist collapses without a constant stream of money!!! i'm not supporting the artist!!!!!" companies try to pay as little as they can get away with to artists. most of that money goes to the CEO and other higher-ups.

"but piracy is bad!" Piracy is a Crime. However, downloading youtube videos/audio for your own PERSONAL, NON-COMMERCIAL USE and NOT REDISTRIBUTING THEM is legal (generally, in the US, check your laws, i am not a lawyer, not legal advice, blah blah blah). besides, i never said you had to pirate your music. in fact, i encourage you to buy the albums of and support your favourite artists in other ways. some artists might even provide links for people to download their songs for free in high quality anyway

not gonna link products just in case someone thinks i'm a shill. but literally just look up "mp3 player" on your search engine or shopping site of choice and find something that doesn't look like it'll fall apart if you breathe on it too hard

seriously guys. if you listen to music more than like a few hours a week, and you don't get all of your music from livestreams or radios (although mine can connect to AM/FM radio), consider investing in an mp3 player. i tried out using one regularly in fall of 2021, and I haven't looked back. don't let companies drain subscription money from you

[crowandmousewritingco]

Safe with You

Pairing: Silva x male!reader

Words: 1 k

Rating: G

Summary: Silva gets a little sappy with you.

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: I've been working hard on my Kinktober entries so I thought it would be nice to have small little drabbles to post as we get closer to October. Plus I wanted an excuse to write for this lovely cowboy. I used fluff prompts from @voidfxndoms specifically #28. Thank you for the wonderful prompts!

Life has moved quickly for you in the last year. You were a roaming rider for the Pony Express, seeing the West from the back of your faithful horse. It was nice for a time seeing the rolling hills and hot deserts throughout this vast country. But as time went on, the more you realized how much you hated how temporary everywhere felt. One day you would be delivering a letter to somewhere in California, and the next week you find yourself sleeping under stars in the New Mexico territory. Finally you decided that enough was enough. You would find something more stable than delivering mail. 

When the next town rolled around, you hung up your mail bag and scanned the “Help Wanted” sign in the middle of town. Lucky for you there was a job that was just up your alley. “Horse hand needed for long term ranch help.” You made sure to keep that information in your mind as you made your way out of town as the instruction indicated. 

That was when you met Silva. You remember riding into his ranch where he was outside tending to his cattle herds. The clomping of horse hooves had Silva glancing up from his favorite steers. After exchanging words and experiences, Silva deemed you more than capable for the position. From that moment on, you were ensnared in Silva’s world. 

Silva was impressed with how you were with the horses. You learned their quirks quickly and learned what made them tick. He had to admit to himself that he was starting to find that quality about you attractive. But he always kept those thoughts inside his heart for a multitude of reasons. And it would have stayed that way if it wasn’t for one night. 

A rich ranger was in search of a mare for his stud and wound up finding your ranch through word of mouth. You worked with him and soon he had a healthy foal on his hands. He had liked your service so well that he threw in a bottle of locally made wine after the birth. 

That night you and Silva indulged in the gifted booze, celebrating a job well done. The two of you ended up indulging just a little too much and soon all of your inhibitions were out the door. Hours of kissing and other such activities kept you up ‘till all hours of the night. 

Of course the morning came and when he realized that you had shared a bed that night, he profusely apologized for his drunkenness and his forwardness. Unbeknownst to him you did rather enjoy last night, and you stopped his excuses with another non drunken kiss. From there you two grew close bringing both the ranch and your relationship into a new era. 

Five years later and you two had fallen into a nice daily routine. You rose with the sun every morning, giving each other a good morning kiss to start the day off right. It was washing up then a nice breakfast made by you to make sure you had plenty of energy to complete your tasks– You to the stables to feed the horses, and Silva to the fields to tend to let the cattle out to graze. 

And it was one of those days you found yourself in today. You were inside preparing a quick but filling lunch. You were busy cutting up the fresh batch of bread and meat you bought on your last ride into town that you didn’t hear Silva slip in through the backdoor. It was only when a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush with his rugged torso, did you notice his presence.  

You sighed and gently caressed his well worked knuckles as he planted soft kisses on your clothed shoulder. Looking over your shoulder with a small smirk. “Well hello to you too.” You chuckled and kissed his bearded cheek, savoring his touch. 

“You know I was thinking,” Silva remarked. 

“That’s dangerous,” You teased and Silva squeezed your sides sending you into a fit of giggles. “Okay okay I surrender.” Once you got your breath back, you asked. “What were you thinking?” 

“Just how safe you’ve made me feel,” He said, leaning his head against yours. A small smile graced his lips. 

You grinned softly taking in his affection. “What’s brought all this on?” You asked, turning so you could face your love. 

Silva’s rugged hands stayed on your waist gently caressing the material with his thumb. His dark eyes gazed into yours. “Just spending so much time as a hired hand well ya get people comin’ after you. And since you got here I haven't had to shoot for a living.” He reached up one of his hands to cup your cheek. 

A heat flushed your cheek and you cupped your hand over his. The heat of his skin fills you with a familiar warmth. “I can’t take all the credit. You put a lot of effort into this ranch making it what it is today.” 

“But if it weren’t for ya…well I was about to give up on this place until you rode into my neck of the desert.”  

You leaned your cheek into his palm nuzzling against his skin gently. “I guess we found each other at the right time.” 

Silva smiled and kissed your forehead, pausing to revel in your touch. “I guess we did.” Time stilled as you took in each other. The lines on Silva’s face, the sprinkle of sun that covered his cheeks and nose, the graying tufts of hair that lined his beard; all of these aspects made Silva, Silva, and together made that man you fell in love with. 

The two of you bask in your love, until Silva broke the silence.  “Now let's get some food in us, so we can finish that order,” Silva said as he gave your waist a playful couple of taps. 

You chuckled and turned back to the cutting board. The sounds of the kitchen continued, slicing and clinking of dishware filling the room. Setting the assembled sandwiches on a serving tray, you brought over the food to the table. Each of you took a slice and began to eat, conversing here and there. Domesticity felt nice with Silva.

All Works Taglist

@for-a-longlongtime @romanarose

Pedro Character Taglist

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges

@carusolikey @thebeldroramscal

@morallyinept @lady-bess

@pedrostories @rivnedell

@pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing

Thanks to the lovely @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the dividers

[illubean]

can i request a chrollo x reader where reader was one of his childhood friends back in meteor city, but she died (up to you how!) and he still dreams about her? possibly her appearance being grown to what chrollo imagines she’d look like now? only if you’re comfortable with the request ♡ i love your writing so much!

Remembrance

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer Type: Angst, Oneshot, Fem!Reader

reader is basically Sarasa here...

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping?/death, description of a dead body, spoilers for Chrollo's background

Not a day goes by where Chrollo doesn't think about you.

You two were as thick as thieves, growing up together in the slums of Meteor City. Though you guys had nothing, you always managed to find ways to have fun and stay happy. Your beaming, bright smile is something that's stuck in the back of Chrollo's mind for all of these years. You used to stand up to the bigger kids who liked to pick on him, and in turn Chrollo helped you learn how to read and write.

Once you guys got a little older, Chrollo had started his little acting troupe, you being there to support him every step of the way. Though you weren't formally part of the group, you would tag along with them and managed to become good friends with the rest of them. One of the things Chrollo liked most about you was how kind you were. You were the sweetest girl anyone could possibly have the pleasure of meeting and he loved that about you.

Which is why he was infuriated after finding out what happened to you.

It wasn't unusual for child traffickers to make their way through meteor city, especially considering that none of it's residents have any sort of legal documentation. They just so happened to be passing through while you were exploring on your own. Being the ever naive little girl you were, you didn't think much when some men claiming to be refugees stopped you and asked for directions to the nearest normal city.

Out of the kindness of your heart, you led them to the outskirts of a forest and told them that the fastest way to modern civilization was to cut through it.

Your best quality ended up being your biggest weakness that day.

After catching wind of your disappearance, Chrollo and the troupe split up in order to try and find you. They searched the forest for hours and when they had finally found you, Chrollo's heart dropped to his ass. Your body was laying beneath a large willow tree, nearly mutilated beyond recognition while your lifeless eyes stared back at him, glazed over. Never in his life has Chrollo felt so many emotions at once the way he did in that moment.

In the years following your passing, Chrollo frequently had dreams of you. The pain they brought him left him restless. Even up until he had a hard time sleeping in fear of reliving those memories of you again.

After some time had passed, Chrollo became the renowned leader of the notorious gang The Phantom Troupe. Though the night terrors of you had stopped some time ago, Chrollo never forgot you. How could he? You meant everything to him.

Every so often he would visit your grave with a few of the original troupe members. Other times he would visit alone and tell you all about what has happened since you've been gone.

It wasn't up until recently had the dreams of you resurfaced, but this time they were different. They didn't bring immense pain or remind him of how you looked the day he found you dead, but rather images of what could've been had you survived. You appeared in his dreams all grown up, being much taller than you were before with h/c hair that was longer/shorter than he remembered. Many things about your appearance had changed, but one thing that stayed the same was your bright smile you'd always seemed to wear.

Upon having this dream for the first time Chrollo shot up from his slumber in a cold sweat. He looked around the room before bringing his hands to his face, resting his head in them as he let out a deep sigh. Knowing he couldn't return to sleep any time soon, Chrollo stepped out of the room of the hotel he'd rented onto the balcony, lighting a cigarette and leaning against the railing. He enjoyed the light breeze and sounds of the city beneath him, looking out over all the bright lights and night bustle.

His moment of peace was brief however, being interrupted by a voice he'd never heard before.

"I've missed you, Chrollo."

The addressed man whipped his head around in shock, only to see that there was no one behind him. Letting out another sigh, he rubbed his eyes and put his cigarette out before returning to his room, pondering on how he would spend the rest of his night.

The next few times he had these dreams they had only gotten worse. They would show him what could've been. The life he could've had. What you could've had. Who you could've been.

You, you, you, you, you.

It was driving him mad. Tonight like any other, Chrollo lied restless, staring towards the ceiling. The soft pitter patter of rain soothed him as he started to relax. Until he heard the voice again.

"Look, we're all grown up."

Similar to the first night he shot up from the bed he was in, eyes frantically scanning the room before resting on the image of you his brain had created, standing in the corner of the darkened room. Chrollo rubbed his eyes before staring at you again before you spoke up once more.

"How have you been?"

Chrollo grit his teeth before chucking his pillow at you, only for your image to disappear as it made contact with the wall. Letting out a grunt, his tensed shoulders went slack just to stiffen back up at the sound of you again.

"What is it you're afraid of Chrollo?"

You appeared in the center of the room this time, closer than before.

"Didn't you miss me?"

Tearing the blanket off of himself he reaches to grab you only for you to disappear and reappear again, this time directly behind him. This went on for a few minutes, you appearing, Chrollo trying to hit you, just for you to disappear and move to another part of the room.

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

With this demand Chrollo was now in the center of the room, looking towards the floor, distressed. The silence in the room was disrupted by nothing by the sound of his heavy breathing for a few moments, until you appeared before him one last time, being directly in front of him.

"I love you, Chrollo."

The man shot his fist towards where your face would be, only to hit nothing before he stormed out of the room. He ran through the rain for hours, with no destination in mind. He had hoped to escape his own thoughts and hallucinations this way, only for his feet to have managed to lead him back to that same willow tree.

Chrollo dropped to his knees as his tears mixed with the water droplets of the passing storm. In front of him stood a tattered wooden cross that had been stabbed into the dirt, which in messy carvings read

In remembrance of Y/n

[vasito-de-leche]

iff its still alright for requests then maybe somethingg small n maybe sleepy with forget me not ? nothing specific otherwise just

sleepy eeby forget me not fic. either that or wrangling his soggy ass to sleep(for once

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "five minutes"

Forget Me Not x Reader. 2.8k words fluff Being in charge of The Walden has its ups and downs - Forget Me Not enjoys being the conductor of an orchestra composed of dying men and women, even if it costs him hours of precious sleep. You make sure to remind him that even the most powerful broker in Chicago deserves a little nap.

this mf has been fighting me for a month or so, it's so hard to write him SLEEPING, HE RLLY DOESNT WANT TO. I HAVE 3 DIFFERENT DRAFTS GRAAAA so here we are. I fought tooth and nail for this, theres 4 different drafts just about FMN getting some fucking sleep. this one even has like, a different version where you fall asleep on his lap instead bc he keeps FIGHTING ME

either way, ty for the request, nonnie! your ask was the perfect excuse to get this done. sorry it ended up being longer than my usual stuff, I just really love the guy

The amount of work needed to maintain an establishment like The Walden often goes unnoticed.

Its elegant ambience and decor, all the powerful and influential people to rub shoulders with, the precise and meticulous organization behind every single detail and decision - all of it can be attributed to a single man, the very same who leads the crowd and makes their drinks.

When the night arrives, he and The Walden come alive.

Hundreds of desperate rats crawl into his den, searching for things they don't deserve: money, fame, fortune, connections, assets. They want to find their place in the world before they're long forgotten, and this is when Forget Me Not steps onto the stage and finds himself in his element, surrounded by all the people who look at him in fear, disgust and awe.

Do they know? That at the end of the world, he holds their fate in the palm of his hand? Him, a simple broker, a middle man.

An inferior, an arcanist.

Of course, the high fades as soon as the sun rears its ugly head over the horizon, his spirits plummet to the ground when the world returns to that monotonous routine. All Forget Me Not can do now is wait.

He would never dream of being so careless as to have his own residence right above his workplace, but he rarely steps into his home in the first place. It's too much trouble to commute back and forth, wasting time in a building that is as devoid of warmth as the blood running through his veins. That private office nestled somewhere within The Walden has become his new safe haven, in fact - with one too many couches to lounge around and no bed in sight.

Not that he sleeps anyway.

Forget Me Not always fancied the most convoluted route into an early grave, and thus has replaced the bottle for something else: endless paperwork.

It's getting harder and harder to conceal the dark bags under his eyes for a semblance of professionalism. How very fitting that, despite all of his efforts and accomplishments, his quality of life continues to deteriorate. What a depressing thought.

The leather of his seat squeaks as he shifts, leaning backwards to fully take in the piles and piles of files atop his desk. His gaze turns to the clock just to confirm what he already knows - it's a little past 6 AM, the cold breeze of the early morning keeping him wide awake. A brand new shipment of materials will arrive in two hours, they will need to be stored but it's an easy enough job for the Disciples. This means that the next important event on his schedule is the meeting at 11 AM. Forget Me Not's face sours right away at the thought, and he reaches for his drink.

And just like that, without any sort of warning, the door to his office is flung open. It's a good thing that despite his awful, awful health, his grip is as steady as ever - not a single drop is spilled. If else, Forget Me Not remains still as a statue, retaining that air of composed aloofness as he raises an inquisitive eyebrow towards the intruder.

It's you, standing perfectly by his door frame. He almost drops the glass once he recognizes your face, but conceals his little slip by settling it back down on his desk.

"Ah, how rare to see you during the day, you're always so busy with errands. To what do I owe this loud, impromptu visit? Keep in mind, I don't start serving drinks until 8 PM."

You don't wait for him to finish, marching towards the small lounge in his office and picking up a small, decorative pillow before dropping backwards onto one of the sofas. A shadow passes over Forget Me Not's eyes - he doesn't know whether to resent you for knowing you have the freedom and privilege to act like this around him, or whether to feel insulted for the way you ignored him just now. He settles for his usual third, secret option - resignation - and makes his way towards you.

Unlike you, Forget Me Not has mastered the art of concealing his presence and so he makes no sound at all when he approaches. He stands right next you, leaning ever so slightly to hover above your face, as if his piercing grey eyes alone could pressure you into speaking.

It doesn't work, at least not right away. You hide behind that useless pillow, then you shift and turn to lay on your side, all while he simply stands in perfect silence. It's a battle of attrition, one he intends to win.

"I slept like shit, okay? Just give me five minutes here and I'll go back to work." Your voice is muffled, but he hears how tired you are anyway.

It's easy to forget that people aren't nocturnal like him, at least not by choice. It's easy to forget about humanity when most of his coworkers are puppets held by strings and ink, mindlessly following orders. When you curl up on the sofa, Forget Me Not remembers just how tired he is and sighs. Soon, he's walking towards the door.

This makes you sit up in a hurry, clearly misinterpreting his actions. "Five minutes, promise! Don't kick me out!"

There's a faint click, it's the lock on the door. Forget Me Not returns to his desk, making sure not to look your way lest his eyes reveal those wretched feelings bubbling in his chest. Did you seriously think he had the nerve to throw you out so carelessly?

"Ten minutes. Make sure not to waste them with chitchat." He can practically sense you silently cheering and getting comfortable in his office. On his couch. It's insufferable, the way you always get what you want while he slaves away with work.

But it's only ten minutes, he can tolerate you for that long.

Three minutes pass, and Forget Me Not realizes that he's spent more time glancing your way than reading the document in front of him.

From his spot, he can only see the top of your head, just a glimpse of your form as you rest your eyes. But every time you move, no matter how subtle, he notices and turns his attention back onto you.

Seven minutes, he only needs to focus for seven minutes. The document in his hand is important: he's negotiating for better materials for his potions at a cheaper cost. This simple deal could mean a lot for Manus Vindictae, always so low on funds, resources and support.

Six minutes. Forget Me Not hears you hum and he slowly turns his head on instinct. You're staring right at him, face resting on the armrest, squishing your cheek against the plush cushions.

"You have four minutes left, are you sure you want to waste them like this?" He lies, as if he wasn't ready to ignore the passage of time to give you a few more extra minutes, expecting you to comply. But you get back at him with a question of your own.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Three minutes." It comes out as a warning. You ignore it.

"I'm serious! You look awful from here." By now, you're sitting down and he knows that if he doesn't stop you, you'll make your way to him. To invade his personal space, cradle his face in your hands and torture him with your gentle touch. "You're always here when I start my shift and when I finish. Where do you get the time to go home and all of that?"

Forget Me Not would rather swallow his own tongue than to openly admit that he essentially lives here. That he has spare clothes in the drawer by the window, that he showers, eats and sleeps in this office of his. You might've figured it out by now, but with his pride and dignity at stake, he pretends to ignore you in favour of work.

"Hey, c'mon. Don't just go back to work like I'm not even here talking to you!" He does exactly that, picking up a pen to sign a few documents. "Drop that. Drop the pen. Hey!"

You talk to him the same way one would talk to a misbehaving dog, and he hears that whiny, frustrated tone in your voice that he's come to appreciate. There is a pause and Forget Me Not does as told - the pen now resting neatly on the desk.

He finally deigns himself to look at you, returning a small smile.

"Thank you, now, like I was saying-"

Thud!

With his free hand, he stamps a document, never breaking eye contact. The pettiness is always worth it, but this time even more so when he sees that tic in your eye and the way you inhale sharply, absolutely done with him. You sit up, consider laying down again in frustration, then simply cross your arms like a child throwing a tantrum - seeing you get worked up over the smallest of things is always such a treat.

"Fine! Be like that! But don't come running when you- Uwaaah!" A yawn interrupts your words, you barely have time to cover your mouth.

Oh no. It's contagious. He feels that tell-tale tingle in his nose, and just like that, he yawns as well.

"Aha! You are tired, I bet you haven't slept properly in days!" An accusatory finger is now pointed at him, and Forget Me Not fights the impulse to roll his eyes.

"That's quite the leap to make over a simple gesture like that. Your time is up, by the way - please, go back to work."

"I'm telling on you, Forget Me Not. I'm so telling on you."

He gives a raspy laugh at this. "And who will you be telling about my horrible sleeping habits? The waiters? The delivery boy? Our esteemed guests?" The latter would definitely eat up any sort of information about his private life, especially if it was something to ruin his reputation, but he doesn't share this out loud.

"Ahh... So, you admit it, then? Having the worst sleeping schedule known to mankind?" Touché.

Before he can even reply, your mouth opens in a feigned yawn and Forget Me Not seethes when he finds himself imitating you. He seethes even more over the smug smile on your face. And he wishes he could just die on the spot when you scoot over and pat the empty seat next to you. Him? Rest? With you? Absolutely not.

"Ten minutes," a tight knot forms in his throat when you start to coax him in. "I'm sure you can spare that much, since you've been indulging me for this long! If you were actually busy, you would've just sent me home to rest. C'mere, sit."

What is the point in keeping track of time by now? Forget Me Not will be by your side until you decide to leave. Indulging you and your stupid ideas, your well-meaning and annoying habits, your reactions - all of it, they're his favorite vice and he never learned how to quit.

"Five minutes." He sits next to you.

"Fair enough." You scoot closer to him.

He watches when you link your arm with his, not bothering to ask for permission. Typical. Your palm is warm as you rest it over his forearm, fingers drumming idly over the soft fabric of his shirt. But you don't linger for too long, and slide down until your index and middle fingers reach the bare skin of his inner wrist, over the pronounced vein there. Can you feel his pulse? The shameless and frantic beat of his heart?

Forget Me Not is so entranced by this simple action that he fails to notice the sudden extra weight - your head rests on his shoulder, with your cheek pressed against the prominent bone. He knows it's an uncomfortable position, because you shift and nuzzle closer to his chest, the top of your head and your hair now tickling his neck and jawline. The knot in his throat returns and he holds his breath on instinct, like an animal at the verge of being devoured.

Nevermind the constant cycle of violence and doom he's turned his life into, these are the horrors that keep Forget Me Not up at night: your body against his, your displays of affection.

"Your eyes," the soft murmur of your voice pulls him from the awful, nonsensical noise in his mind. You're looking up at him. "You're meant to close them. That's what this whole thing is for. Unless ...you can sleep with your eyes open?"

"Don't be ridiculous. As if such a short amount of time could make me fall asleep." He huffs, a way to conceal just how out of breath he is. Part of him is afraid to close his eyes, knowing that he will feel each and every little thing you do - only tenfold. And what would he do with himself then, when all he can focus on is your finger tracing shapes over his palm? It tickles. It's distracting. It's unbearable.

His hand flinches, just barely, and you interlock your fingers with his in response.

"Hush and close them!" Always so obedient to your commands, Forget Me Not does as told, cursing you in his mind.

He gives you an inch, and you take a mile - the moment his eyes are closed, his body turns rigid but you still coax him backwards, so that he can lean on the backrest of the couch. It takes the coordinated effort of every single muscle in his body not to melt on the spot, to remain in a proper, sitting position. With you nestled so comfortably by his side, Forget Me Not makes the worst mistake in his life: he turns his head towards you, his nose now buried in your hair.

The content and pleased noise that leaves him is something that feels alien, entirely out of character for someone like him. Right away, he feels the tips of ears burning with shame and his body uselessly recoils away from you, trying to revert back into that persona he's created for the world.

It backfires immediately.

"...Hm? Is your arm getting numb? Here, let's switch." You move away, all while your hands cradle his face in order to guide him over to your lap.

It's a painfully slow process that is simultaneously over in the blink of an eye. Forget Me Not doesn't know what's worse, the fact that he didn't put up a fight or the way he feels so incredibly small, being held so lovingly by you.

He's laying on his back, hands resting uselessly over his chest like a corpse in an open casket funeral. If he glances upwards (a difficult thing to do, because you flick his forehead whenever you catch him wide awake) he can see you hoarding all the pillows available within your reach to support you as you lounge about, still hellbent on sleeping in with him.

Did he die at some point throughout the day without noticing? Is this his own personal Hell? Forget Me Not wants to speak, to say anything and regain control of the situation, but nothing comes out. All there is to do is to lay there, with your hands combing through his hair.

His heart might as well burst out of his chest. Even better, crawl up his throat and choke him from inside out.

Without thinking, he sits up. It's a nervous impulse. You can't see his face with his back turned to you and he's grateful for the small moment of privacy, as he steels himself to send you away. Or to fuck off into The Walden and walk around aimlessly to cool off, and then avoid you for a few weeks. Whichever comes first.

"Oh! Want a pillow or something? I kind of just took them all without thinking." He doesn't deserve this sort of contact, this domestic bliss - he doesn't want it either.

"Hey, do you think we could do this more often? Just... make some time for me in that busy schedule of yours?" And why would he? You're already pretty skilled at turning his life upside down with your constant nagging and your antics.

"Sorry for being this sappy so suddenly, it just came to mind...Oh, oh! Wait! While you're at it, mind closing the window, please? It's getting a liiittle cold in here."

Forget Me Not leaves his glasses on the table and lays back down, this time making sure to wrap his arms as tightly as he can around your waist, his face hidden in your stomach. What he receives is a weak chuckle, a weak complaint and a weak attempt at pushing him away. You don't mean it, of course - the same way he never means any of the things he thinks.

"Hm, I believe it's perfect like this."

"You're just saying that because you're going to leech off my own body heat, you little snake."

There's a hint of victory in your voice, you've won once again against him but you're always too nice to rub it in. Instead, you caress the scales on his neck, now on full display for you. It's a heavenly sensation.

"Perhaps," he murmurs, eyes closed. "But what are you going to do? Kick me out of my own office?"

"I might if you don't get some rest. Sleep, now."

And just like that, Forget Me Not unravels - he's been waiting so long to be given permission, for someone to allow him a moment of peace despite all these restraints holding him back.

He knows that the moment wakes up, he will act like none of this happened, that he will stubbornly deny everything until his very last breath, but right now, he clings onto you like his life depends on it.

And he falls asleep with your name on his lips

[luvly-writer]

“XOXO”

Ch. 3 Part-Time lovers, full time problem

—•—

Tim Drake x reader

Fic + social media Au

warnings:

taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @grandstrangerphantom

Author’s note: One thing i love about Christmas is all the free time i have to write new stuff after finals 🤭 (she said as she still has a few finals to finish 😍). HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER!

For those wondering about “BOCM” i am having such a hard time finishing it. When my phone got changed the notes i had on that story got deleted and so i had to improvise a little cause i forgot its ending and it’s so frustrating cause i always want to give you guys quality content. I am scratching my head trying to finish it so i’ll continue this one and update slowly so that i can finish it correctly. Love you all and thank you for your patience.

Masterlist:

“Absolutely insufferable, she is,” said Tim to himself as he ran his hand through his hair. He had been begrudgingly cleaning his apartment. He was tempted to leave it dirty just to take a piss at Yn but he was sure that wouldn’t look good for his reputation so here he was. He would have hired someone to do it for him but recalling all the things he had regarding his alter ego, he knew he would have been fucked and he really couldn’t risk someone else knowing.

Finally, he finished ensuring everything looked great and sat back on his couch with his laptop. "There must be something about her that I can find. I refuse to be outdone and unprepared for this," he said, searching for any leverage he could hold over Y/n's head to bargain for his secret to remain so. Thirty minutes later he had found absolutely nothing. Unlike her two best friends, Clara Dupont and Satine Abbott, who were known to be found in scandal after scandal every week, Y/n had a clean slate. Satine was constantly partying during some fashion week or getting caught sleeping around with some governor's son or a married businessman. Clara has been known to pay off people to do her bidding, caught buying off police, lawyers, teachers, professors, judges and so, to run the city however she pleased. Yet, Y/n had nothing against her. Every article he found was about a charity she had worked on, a program she had opened, or an award she was given; and were all of them legit. She seemed like the angel in their group, but Tim knew better than to trust the all-too-shiny act. He has some recollection of them during high school though; he was a grade above them. They were known for their tight and exclusive group of three. He remembers how girls would do anything to become one of them. If it meant they had to step on someone else to appease one of the three, they would have done so. After all, having them as a connection moved mountains. Tim quickly grew frustrated. No psycho exes, no drug addiction, no jail time, no one dead, no bribes, nothing that could have stained the Vanderbilt name.

Throwing his head back, he heard his phone ring. Y/n was here. He sets his laptop on the coffee table and walks to the door, opening it and revealing a dazzling young woman in an outfit he thought someone as flashy as she never would wear. White Converse, comfortable mom jeans, a laid-back button-up up, and a cozy long brown coat. Her hair was loose and her face fresh with little makeup. Even after spending hours looking at pictures of her during his search, she still managed to take his breath away every time he was in her presence.

"I know I'm mesmerizing, but can you please let me inside? I'm freezing here," she said with her nose a little red.

He rolls his eyes with a laugh and lets her in. "I was gonna go more for repulsive but if that helps you sleep at night."

"Says the one that looks like sewer trampled rat" she quips back.

Tim couldn't help the snort that came out of him. She was an endless supply of good comebacks. He wonders how an interaction between his brothers and her would go, maybe he finally found someone to go head-to-head with Damian. She takes her coat off and lays it on the couch, together with her Burberry bag. He takes notice that her coat is also Burberry and decides to tease her a little. "And here I thought you were actually looking a little humble, but the coat and the bag ruin the look," he says as he scrunches his nose. He feels laughter bubbling as he catches the deadpan she gives him. "Whose less humble, me for wearing it and not saying a single thing or you for identifying it rather quickly and feeling the need to point it out?" she asks as she places a hand on her hip smirking at him.

"Touche"

She nods satisfied at his response and sits on the couch in front of him. "Ok. First order of business-"

"First order of business is giving me the reason as to why you are doing this." Tim interrupts her. She sighs and looks up, "God give me strength to not strangle him" she whispers and Tim tries to hold back a smirk.

"I wAS going to get to that before you so rudely interrupted me. The first order of business is giving you the context I am sure you are dying to hear." she pauses to look at him and he gestures for her to continue. He sees her look down and seem almost embarrassed. He can tell she is hesitating so he tries his best guess, "Are you trying to make someone jealous?"

"No, it's not that, it..." She takes a deep breath and spills it out. "My parents want me to marry a man who is very much too much older than me with the idea that it will help solidify the family lineage which I think is absurd because my sisters are right there AND THEY ARE MARRIED already to someone they love. But because Aurora and Charlisse keep on fighting to become the next CEO, my parents think it is only right to marry ME off to a very wrinkly and truly disturbing man who i am sure 20 years older than me because someone should continue the line whilst the other two are focused on their careers and making something out of their lives. SO, I needed to find a boyfriend who would be suitable for their standards whilst Aurora and Charlisse sort it out so that when they do, the attention and pressure of continuing the line will go back to them and not me." Y/n finishes breathing out. Tim was taken aback. Not only the normally composed girl he was used to seeing, spoke 7 words per second, but he was blown away by the information she had just given him.

"I need...a drink? Do you want one?" he said standing up and heading to the kitchen. No wonder she said this might take a while.

"Yes please" she said with a tense smile. "do you have wine?"

Tim made a sound of confirmation as he poured some scotch. He wasn't much of a drinker, but years of being part of the business world made him earn some appreciation for the drink. Especially on times like these. He poured some wine for her in a glass and walked back with both drinks. He gave her the glass and sat down. "Isn't that a little medieval?"

"Old money has habits that are tough to kill, unfortunately" she mutters dejectedly to her glass. "So, Timothy, any questions?"

"A few actually"

"Go ahead" she sad as she leaned back and got comfortable.

"Whose the old man?"

"Mr. Morris."

"You are fucking with me!" Tim reacted horrified, making Y/n laugh. If he hadn't been so shocked he would have delighted in her laughter but atlas, the situation did not give him the flexibility to do so. "Y/n say you are lying! That man is too old"

"I know, next question."

"Why me?"

"You are a good candidate and a lucky coincidence. I was going to ask Satine and Clara to help me but, that frankly would have ended in a disaster. I believe that as long as a plan stays between the parties involved who have something to lose, it will be successful. Satine would have chosen some random man who she's probably been involved with and Clara knows everything about everyone in the city-"

"Everything?"

"Except this of course, as I was saying she probably would have created a fake identity, assigned it to someone then, bribed them into playing the part."

"Much like you did?"

"I blackmailed you, not bribed you, get it right. Continuing, it was rather easy to choose you. You are Bruce Wayne's son, and even without that, you come from high society from your biological family, so you know the social cues and the ways of the people I am constantly surrounded by. You have proven to be quite ingenious as well as a good businessman. Knowing your "other me" proves you might as well be honorable too and what hero is not dammed with a savior complex can resist a damsel in distress? It is in your nature to want to influence things to be okay. My parents are friendly with Bruce therefore making things more appealing for the situation. I had the perfect leverage, the perfect candidate, and now I just need the perfect situation. So, lucky me when you bumped into me"

"You mean when you bumped into me?" he asked and she glared at him. "Careful, pretty boy," she said, and the way she said it caused chills to go down his spine.

"Any more questions, perhaps about my clean histoy and my best friend's not so clean image?"

Tim looked at her and she gestured to his laptop.

"What do you have to hide?" ha asked leaning foward.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Next question." she smiled as she also leaned forward in her seat. "What's our story?" he asked looking down at her lips, a little bit stained by the wine she had been drinking. Tempting

"Well, that's why I'm here huh, detective?" That nickname shouldn't have had the effect it did on him, but God, he wanted to hear those words from her again. "Show me why Red Robin is the world's greatest mind, second to Batman's only," she said leaning back and taking a sip of her glass once again.

"World's greatest detective, not mind, and some would say I have surpassed Batman, get it right," he said as he repeated her words in the end. "We need cero plotholes, so much so that it has to be so good that not even my family can find them. We are after all a family of detectives"

"Amazing" she said, sitting up straight, her entire focus solely on him.

"We both went to GA, so that's a starting point, we may not even have to lie. We met at Gotham Academy a few years back, you crushed on me for some time seeing as I was a year above you, and then forgot about me when I dropped out. Years later, we bump into each other on the street, and sparks fly or whatever the fuck will make the crowd fall in love with us, and then we start from there. Depending on how desperate are our odds, we will explain our timeline, but we have to agree on it before going public. How did you react when your parents told you the news?

"It waaaass..messy. A lot of screaming and crying"

"Then you will tell your parents of how heartbroken you were when they told you because you finally get the chance to be with your one true love and"

"Wait wait wait wait! Why do I have to be the lovesick puppy in this and you the prince charming" she said narrowing her eyes at him.

"Whose the one in dire need of escaping the situation?"

"Who's identity is in danger?"

"Who will be recreating the handmaid's tale?"

"You bitch!" She gasped at his insinuation

"Exactly so, puppy love for you it is. As I was saying, you finally got the chance to be with the love of your life, and the moment you are prepared to tell them, they spring this news onto you. So how dare they. We can coordinate public appearances, photos, family dinners, and posts so that everything will flow perfectly. Finally, once, you are liberated, we coordinate and stage a breakup and you hand me all the information you have on me cause I know you made copies of everything and I will eliminate all. of. it. We will just be another famous couple that got together and broke up and moved on." Tim was satisfied with his work. Y/n looked absolutely amazed by him.

"Wow...and you came up with all of that, that fast?" she said full of wonder. Tim felt a tug in his heart due to her reaction. It had been a long time since he had managed to make someone truly amazed by him in a really long time. He had been so used to being surrounded by skilled detectives, assassins, meta-humans, and aliens, that he forgot how great it felt to simply just be and have someone admire you for it. The little praise-seeking self in the back of his mind was thriving on her admiration. "Yes."

"Fuck...I think I couldn't have ever picked a better partner for this if I tried. Your reputation does you justice, Timothy, you are brilliant." she smiled. Y/n felt relieved. She was soon going to be free from her family's pressure. Another scheme has gone perfectly. She cleared her throat and masked her face once again. "We have to make a contract, establish some ground rules."

"By all means," said Tim. "I am serious. First rule, I get all evidence of my alter ego destroyed once it's over. I am doing this only if that is assured."

"Deal. Second rule, no one, absolutely NO ONE, knows except for the two of us." she said and he nodded, "I agree"

"Third rule, Kissing only happens if the situation requires it," she said. He hadn't noticed she had opened a doc in his laptop and was writing this entire thing down. He hummed in agreeance, too busy admiring her....admiring her...WOOP WOOP! EARTH TO TIM! This is a fake relationship and you are already getting fond of her?!?!??! WAKE UP

"Fourth rule, no feelings. This is strictly professional" he snapped, making her look at him strangely. "I think that was already implied but sure, if you want it written, I'll add it" and turned to his laptop again.

He felt a pit in his stomach. This was professional and besides, he just found her attractive, he can anyone attractive and it doesn't mean anything. Plus she is kind of an asshole. She is blackmailing him into a fake relationship...to save herself from being sold like cattle and forced to marry a creepy man which if he thinks of it maybe it is the best way she saw fit. AND AND she was very rude to him and has quite the attitude..although it is so attractive how she goes head to head with him. Tim was sweating' bullets.

"And done. I added a few things such as we have to have some sort of PDA, and how we might coordinate things. You know, some silly stuff that most people think isn't important but might end up being so. Do you have a printer?" She asked to which he nodded and gestured to his office. She sent the paper to print and went to look for it. Tim took a deep sigh, he just needed to calm down. He just found her attractive and interesting like a new case that needed to be cracked.

"Perfect, I printed two contracts; one for you and one for me. I also took one of your blue pens and signed on both papers, here, sign here and here." After it was done, she had noticed that a few hours had passed. "I should get going. I promised Satine and Clara that I would have dinner with them if they kept the paparazzi off me so that I could get here unbothered and we didn't have any issues." She said as she went for her coat and her purse. "Have a nice night, Timothy"

"Tim"

"Huh?"

"My friends and family call me Tim," he said looking at her.

She smiled softly, "Okay...Timmy, have a good night and get some rest." His heart melted at the fact that she took his nickname and altered it to make it hers. She heard her driver arrive outside and walked towards the door, Tim not so far behind. He noticed she faltered her step a little and looked at him hesitating. "Be....be careful tonight" she said but it was more like a whisper.

Tim nodded, "Thank you, enjoy dinner and get home safe," he told her as she went outside and went to her car. He stayed there until she got in the car and it began moving.

As she left, Y/n unfolded the contract from her purse and read the last rule...no feelings...

"you are going to be trouble.." she said fighting off a tiny smile and thinking of the handsome boy with the sharp quips, magnificent brain, and gorgeous blue eyes.

"What was that, miss Vanderbilt?" asked Donnie, her driver.

"Oh, it's nothing, Don. We are headed to L'amico, I'm meeting the girls for dinner," she said sweetly and her driver nodded.

Author's note: What do you think of their dynamic? Liking it so far? Feel free to give me any feedback you'd like.

[livingproofoftbd]

Write dnf cooking together perhaps

thank you dougie 😞 have some drabble

-

Despite what some people seem to think, the three of them eat home cooked meals nearly every day. Sure, sometimes they go out to eat or order in, but that’s not a super common occurrence. They prefer making their own burgers than ordering them, but when George starts demanding things like dumpling, that’s when they order in.

“Dream,” George whines. Dream’s pillow hits him in the face.

“George!” Dream exclaims, flinching in his seat. He flips his headphones off, eyes narrowed. “What?”

George frowns. “I’ve called your name, like, three times.“

“Oh, sorry,“ Dream says, pushing away from his computer. “What do you need?”

“I’m hungry,” George complains.

Dream gives him a look. “And you had to distract me from this?” he asks. “I’m almost done.”

“Which means you have time to make me food,“ George says as he pushes himself off the bed. “C’mon.“

Dream, of course, follows easily. He doesn’t even turn off his computer, simply walks out of the room as George does. Like always.

“We need stuff,” George says, rooting through their cupboards.

“We have plenty of stuff,” Dream argues. “What so you want to make that we don’t have ingredients for?” He peers over George’s shoulder into the cupboards filled with spice.

“Sushi,“ George says plainly. “I saw a tiktok, it doesn’t look that hard.”

Dream looked at him in slight disbelief. “George, you realize you need prepared fish for that, right?” he asks. “That’s not something either of us knows how to do.”

“You realize we don’t need to add fish, right?” George retaliates, closing the cupboards.

“Idiot,” Dream says, smiling. “You hate vegan sushi, you tried it once and spat it out.”

George slaps Dream in the arm. “Shut up,” he grumbles, pushing past him. “I found a store that sells prepared fish specifically for sushi, so I’ll send you the address.”

Dream turns, frowning. “Um, who said I’m going?”

“I did,“ George says, finding Dream’s car keys. “You wouldn’t deny me sushi, would you?” He pouts as he steps close enough to press the keys in Dream’s awaiting palm.

“I could just order sushi,” Dream says, but he’s already walking towards the garage.

“I thought you loved me,” George says sadly.

Dream glares at him. “Idiot,” he says warmly.

He ends up getting George to come along, and they spend over an hour finding the ingredients and other snacks George likes. Dream buys him apples and apple juice and some chips he likes—“crisps, Dream.” They get some for Sapnap too, so he doesn’t bitch about it and try to steal George’s snacks.

“So how do we even make sushi?” Dream asks.

“Let me find the video,” George says, pulling out his phone. “Give me a sec.”

Dream unloads the bags as George searches for the video, pulling out sushi rice and prepared fish and seaweed sheets and other various ingredients they bought. George makes a small triumphant noise as Dream is putting away the apple juice.

“Look look look.” George shows Dream the video. It looks easy enough, but Dream figures the quality won’t be nearly as good as the sushi made professionally. Still, they started making it. George decided he would do the easiest part and make the rice, and Dream didn’t argue. Because he never does.

They lay the seaweed flat on a fancy sushi roller, put down cooled rice, and place strips of fish down. Their first attempt at rolling it is laughable, and their second isn’t much better.

“Dream, this is so ugly,“ George complains. “How do we even cut it?“

Dream is giggling too hard to respond as he tries to place the terribly rolled sushi on a plate to cut it. “This is gonna be so bad,” he says, high pitched through his laughter. “George, what-“

He suddenly doubles over laughing, leaning on the edge of the counter. Georg starts laughing with him, leaning over to try and cut it. “Dream!” he shrieks. “It’s falling apart! Help!”

Dream stands up to see a very failed attempt at cutting it. The part that George cut off looks diseased and the whole thing is falling apart. “George!” he exclaims. “What the hell?”

They manage to salvage it enough to cut it, and they cheers with their hands clutching the sushi carefully. “Good luck,” George says, and Dream giggles before he eats it. And, surprisingly, it tastes great.

“Look at us go,” Dream says, smiling.

“I’m having another,” George decides. “This is insane, Dream.”

They make some for Sapnap before eating the rest, and then George just starts eating the rice and fish straight from the pot. Dream shakes his head fondly as he walks upstairs to deliver Sapnap his dinner.

[whochromatic]

I must not read chapter 109 and wait for the chapters to pile up.. I must not read chapter 109 and wait for the chapters to pile up.. I must...

*reads it anyways*

Why did I do that. Damnit, I should've known that reading that chapter would have re-activated my need for more. I was way better off ignoring anything related to Yohaji and just went about my day, not thinking about Yohaji every minute of the hour of the day of the week. But the damage has been done. Now I have to read the whole manga all over again just to satisfy myself once again. But no. That's not enough. I searched every corner to hunt every single content of Yohaji. Tumblr. Twitter. Youtube. Tiktok. Ao3. Our lord and savior Canada's account. The giver of reason in life, one who resurrects the dead, the sailor uniform to my life, Tanamai-sensei's account. I know that the Yohaji content in this world is not enough and will NEVER be. The moment I discovered this manga, I knew that it would be my life. The fact that it had only reached me last year, ber month is unforgivable. Why did it not have content as many as the amount of numbers there are to exist so that it could reach me at the start of it's existence? It should have been Yohaji. Not BNHA! Nothing against that anime by the way. Well, I am grateful that I stumbled upon Yohaji while it had 100+ chapters though. And the fandom being small enough to only have nice and cool people in it. But those fics in ao3 though? Why- I mean, I don't really care or pay attention to them but the fact that the amount of nsfw fanfics is probably (I'm saying probably because they might just be more) equal to the amount of sfw fanfics in there is- I swear, WHY ARE THERE SO LITTLE FANFICS OF YOHAJI?! 3 PAGES?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? There might be more in other places but I only read in ao3 and Tumblr if I find some there. I'm so thankful for the translators though!!! I love y'all. I love the fandom. I love the characters. I love Yohaji. I love the creator. God- sorry I forgot I can't use sensei's name in vain. I'm telling y'all, Tanamai is the GOAT. A GENIUS!! Your brain is beautiful. What goes on in head yours? Tell and everyone might gain more braincells. What's with you? What's with your humor?? What's with your lore?! WHAT'S WITH YOUR ART??? WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!?! SENSEI WHEN I CATCH YOU OHH WHEN I CATCH YOU. But of course, it's not your fault that I'm starving for more Yohaji chapters. One month is nothing to me- IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO CREATE THIS WONDERFUL AND HEAVENLY HOOK THAT CAUGHT ME EVEN ONLY WITH IT'S TITLE AND ART?? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEEE?!?! Senseiiiiii*sob* waaaaaahh... Still, I'm sooo happy this is getting an anime this year!! I've been waiting for this ever since I found out it existed along with other Yohaji fans. I knew it would happen soon enough because it's the law. It's a crime to not make an adaption of amazing yet weird yet amazing manga like no other. Death row. DEATH ROW!! It's fine even if it's low quality. As long as it exists, I can finally pass on peacefully- when it airs it better be as good as the manga and look immaculate, I'm telling you. Haha, just kidding. Or am I..? I cannot wait until April or whatever how long it takes for the anime to air just please. Please even the trailer only. But I'm sure everyone is already working hard to make the anime for it. Do your best!! You're doing the right thing! And.... uhm.. 24 episodes... please..? AHHH HARUAKI'S SMILEEE!!! IT'S INVADING MY MIND!! GET OUT! PLEASE GET OUT!!! THIS LOWLY UNGRATEFUL UNDESERVING WORSE THAN DUST BUZZ BUZZ KILLABLE STUPID MORTAL ABOMINATION CAN'T HANDLE OR DESERVE SOMETHING LIKE THAT!! AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! I can't do this. More. More. More Yohaji. I NEED IT. IF AIR AND SAILOR UNIFORM IS LIFE THEN SO IS YOHAJI!! RAAAAAAAHHH

Also I accidentally deleted a longer version of this and rewrote it with my memory. Thanks for wasting your time on this like I did.

[shytastemakerthing]

Hi!! I'm Ellie, and I'm looking for a romantic matchup for one of the Twisted Wonderland characters, please!

Some basic info is that I go by she/her pronouns, I'm 5'5, and I have a rather rounded figure (but that just means cuddle time is that much more comfy, i'd say!!) I have fair skin (by fair i mean vampire pale.) Blue eyes, and loooooong brown hair!

Personality wise, I'm the rather fun-loving sort, even if my severe social anxiety and depression keeps me from going outside, I do all I can to keep myself entertained and having as much fun as I can. If something sounds boring, then I have a hard time focusing on it (which gets me into a lot of trouble in school tbh.)

However, I tend to be extremely shy around other people, my social anxiety makes it very difficult to be open around others. However, when I become more comfortable with them, I'm much more lively, and willing to share my interests and hobbies and such.

Honestly, my entire life revolves around things that interest me, whether it be a new game to play, a story I like, characters I'm invested in, a new hobby, etc. It will always be something that I find easy to rant about for hours on end.

Aside from hyper-fixations and special interests, I'm rather reserved and don't say more than I need to at any given time. I tend to be overly considerate of others to the point where it drags me down, but I don't let it get in the way of my special interests.

In a relationship, I'm the type to be extremely clingy towards my partners, often hanging off their every word to shape how my mood will be for the entire day. When I'm in a relationship, my partner tends to be my hyperfixation or special interest, as I often want to spend all of my time with them due to just how happy their company makes me.

In all, I'm a girl who lets excitement control my life to the point where I don't have the capacity for a relationship that is just "chill". I'd need someone who can meet my needs while at the same time being someone who can get something fun for us to do together without me getting bored of them.

My love language is quality time and physical touch!! I'm a big fan of just having a blast with my partner, but cuddles and hugs are definitely the best. (pda in public is a big plus)

I am an extremely bashful and romantic sort of character, with lofty dreams of what life with a partner might be like. Even though I love the idea of romance, I am totally up for a chill relationship as well, anything goes as long as they're happy with me, and I'm happy with them.

Sorry for this being so long!! I'm looking forward to being matched!!

A/N: Hello and thank you so much for your request! I do hope that you enjoy it! Have a wondeful day/night!

Request: Twisted wonderland match-up

I match you with............

Floyd Leech

Someone who lets excitement run their life? Well then, count Floyd in. He is all about having a good time and has been known to leave things that he seems to be boring in search for new adventure and excitement

He will 100% condone this certain behavior and if he happens to find something rather exciting but you aren't there with him, be prepared for a towering eel man to come bounding towards you to carry you off to said excitement

Floyd is clearly all about physical touch. Holding, squeezing, having a hand on your shoulder, your head..... yeah, he's a touchy guy

And all for quality time as well. Someone willing to spend time with him? Someone who he is completely in love with and knowing that said feelings are returned?

Congrats, he is all yours now

Chill time often takes place within his room... half the time he falls asleep, but he looks so adorable, you can't even begin to think of waking him up

He will absolutely cling onto the things that are of current interest to you. You guys are the same in that regard, having bursts of hyper-fixations at any given time

He loves your clingy nature

Because this man is the same

Y'all feed off of each other

..... please come see him at work in the lounge (Jade and Azul aren't begging..... maybe... Floyd just does so much better when you're there to see him)

More than once, he has fallen asleep to the sound of your voice. Not that your ramblings bored him, no, your voice is just so soothing to him that he couldn't help it

Expect to stay with this guy for r the rest of your life, he isn't letting go

Thank you for your request!

[bonearenaofmyskull]

Hey sooo sorry that this is irrelevant to Hannibal. Its about this youtube guy you said in one of your old old posts that you enjoyed. He is a bearded ginger guy that sits in front of the wooden wall of a warehouse with shelf talking about politics? Usually wears a hat. Usually his view is around 15-30k i think and he uploads daily.

for some reason I don’t know why i kept remembering him as Shia Labeouf??? And his youtube channel name is 4 words.

thanks to you i discovered his channel but i got uninterested so I unsubscribed, but now in my wee 5.30-6 am sleepless hour i suddenly missed him and was tryna search so hard but you know how that goes looking at my description

thank yew

It's Beau of the Fifth Column, and for the record I NEVER would have associated him with Shia Labeouf. I recommend his channel and the partner channel The Roads with Beau for anyone who wants non-sensationalized, realistic reporting, with a leftist bent, of foreign affairs, domestic affairs, climate change, science news, and occasional pop culture news insofar as it overlaps with one of the other categories. They also do occasional personal advice and are a good internet mom and dad for especially queer kids who need that. And they do charity work, give survival advice and tips whenever there is an ongoing weather event that is potentially life-threatening, and weekly q-and-a.

I'm referring to them as a partnership because Beau has left his position running the channels in the last week and turned it over to his wife because he is a workaholic, and it was affecting his health, charity work, and family. Other than them dropping one of their daily videos from the agenda and his wife (going by "Belle"--"Beau" was also a pseudonym) still being in that stage of finding her voice and comfortability in front of the camera, I haven't seen too much of a change in the quality of their commentary, though the jury is still out on that IMO--she seems a bit spicier than Beau but is still working control the nerves and be natural, and I'm not sure she's quite there with the way he would lay out his reasoning and show it coming around to his conclusions, though I don't think the conclusions themselves have changed in any significant way. It'll be really tested when they cover more foreign affairs because that was where Beau really shined, and it's my understanding he is really NOT involved in the channel at all anymore in any way, at least for the time being. Coverage has been very US election-focused since Belle took over.

My strongest general recommendation would to go back and watch every single video, in order, that Beau made about Gaza in order to understand why things have gone the way they've gone and why the US has made the moves they've made, and why other countries that are nominally pro-Palestine have done some of the things that they've done as well. That includes this dumb-it-down whiteboard video from last year. Most people will find him reporting things that they don't like for one reason or other--hell, he reports things HE doesn't like about the way the foreign policy system works and will occasionally remind audiences of that as well--but it will explain where and why morality fails to gain traction when there is a question of power, and how that limits steps that are taken, how it informs public positions taken on the world stage versus what is happening behind the scenes with actions taken, etc.

Beau's organizational and labeling system for finding topics of interest is an absolute nightmare--even worse than mine--so I'd just recommend browsing in chronological order for likely topics if you're going back through historical stuff.

They're southerners and they drawl and if you're into hyperspeed internet videos you'll have to adapt your brain to want to watch their stuff. Over time you should get used to the pacing, and I eventually found it soothing. Beau is one of those rare individuals that I could regularly expect to have insights and perspectives and thoughts that I wouldn't have had, and he could change the way I view something. There aren't that many people that I run into in life that have that ability, so this was a rare gift for me.

[homesweetgoodneighbor]

INCOMING RANT ABOUT HANCOCK AND HIS BROTHER THAT INCLUDES A DISCOVERY MOST OF US HAD NO IDEA ABOUT AND IS A BIT LONG, SORRY:

So, I learned something infuriating.

All of us ghoul lovers have all been rather pissed about the fact that Hancock gets One Line if he's with you when you confront his brother. Fuck, I've never even DONE that quest because I refuse to accept he would have nothing more to fucking say than One Line.

However, curiosity finally got the better of me and I went searching for the video of the companions' reactions to McDipshit's big reveal. Yeah, it's bullshit.

Thing is, though, I found another vid that said, "Hancock about his brother after 'In Sheep's Clothing'".

Get this, my darlings: If You Ignore Hancock Until After "In Sheep's Clothing", meaning The Entire Fucking Game, His Reaction In His Second Affinity Speech Is Vastly Changed.

OF FUCKING COURSE! WHY DIDN'T WE THINK OF THAT! Because why would Bugthesda do anything that made fucking sense like have him say more during the actual fucking quest.

After he says McDipshit didn't seem like the guy he grew up with, he goes on to say that he guessed it made sense now that he knew for certain. How he was having a hard time trying to understand if his brother really was that amoral asshole or if it was just the synth pulling it off. Basically saying without saying that he couldn't ever be sure his brother was actually a synth when he had the ghouls kicked out. Was he a synth before or after? Did he deserve his little brother's hate or not? And, how he almost wished he didn't know this much now.

Now, I'll say this, they are good lines. You can feel his guilt and sadness. But, godsfuckingdamn, Butt-thesda! First, why wasn't it put during the quest, and why didn't he get a whole ass chance to find some closure with Sole about it? This is why I say every damn companion should've had their own DLC. If Nick could have one, Hancock, Preston, MacCready...all of them! They all had stories to finish!

And, also, lemme ask you, WHO THE FUCK OUT OF ANY OF US COULD FUCKING IGNORE THAT ADORABLE, DEPRESSED BALL OF CHAOS FOR THE ENTIRE FUCKING GAME JUST TO FIND THAT ONE REACTION?

Fuck You, Bitch-thesda. Fuck You.

.

.

-------------------- I have 2000 hours in this fucking game, and even I didn't know this shit. And, all these modding teams are making high-quality DLCs doing shit like bringing the fucking Enclave to the 'Wealth or what if Diamond City won the game. Don't get me wrong, I respect their time and work immensely and give them all the endorsements for their skills, but we have unfinished stories Right There. Gods, I wish I was tech savvy enough to build a mod.

[sio-writes]

Sacrifice - Chapter 8

<Chapter 7

<<Chapter 1

Summary: This winter has been brutal, and Kyla is out of options. So, with teary eyes, she takes her best goat into the woods, hoping for some pity from whatever god finds her. And oh, she is found.

Tags: Casual alcohol consumption; NSFW; sexual manipulation through edging

Aurelius continues his routine and I continue mine, and we step around each other like ghosts, neither acknowledging the other's presence or ignoring completely. Dachaigh keeps me company while I mull over my conversation with Eodine. 

Aurelius, as it turns out, is very good at hiding, both himself and his things. Dachaigh must be in leagues with him, because after examining every book on the lower floor I still have the exact same information as last week. No other journal or anything written in Aurelius’ handwriting exists where I can reach.

The upper floors are impossible, too. When I try to reach even the closest one, just one level up, the height makes me so dizzy I can barely grab a handful of books before I fall over the railing. I go through each with a swift hand, only stopping to squint at the handwriting before moving onto the next. The process takes up my morning energy, and I quietly pray for the goat’s forgiveness in skipping their breakfast.

But each book I pull down is a dead end. Nothing. And my patience thins with each hour that drags on.

After several days of searching and coming up empty handed, I’m too frustrated to continue. I leave Aurelius’ home and walk down the river path to the changeling cottage, and they greet me with smiles and hugs.

Gregory leads me by the hand to the back of the house, where the group is engrossed in some kind of game. There’s a square folding board on the low table surrounded by an array of drinks, and in the center is a tower of wooden blocks, stacked in alternating rows of three,and several have been removed making the tower lean dangerously to the right. In the corner of the room is a phonograph, much fancier than I've ever seen, softly playing an easy tune with instruments I've never heard before. The music fills the brief pauses, carrying the conversations like boats on a wave.

Sveta offers me her seat, but I don’t know how to play the game, so I find a free spot on the end of the couch and watch until I understand the rules. 

The game starts with a person carefully removing one of the colored blocks from the tower, and written on the block is an action they must perform. If they don’t perform the action, they draw two more blocks, and then four, and then eight and so on. The most common actions involve the drinks such as adding more alcohol or finishing it off and making another, and the other actions are usually small things, like standing on one foot for the duration of the game, or only speaking in chicken squawks. I think Kimiko even threw some household chores in there, given that she smirks each time one of her blocks is drawn.

By the look of the half-empty glasses and opened bottles and tilting tower, they're nearly through with this round. They're all energetic and full of laughter, and it's hard not to laugh with them, leaning in every time someone pulls a block and the tower jolts dangerously. 

Gregory's turn is the last of this round-- he's swaying on his knees as he leans over the table, tapping on the edge of a block with short nails, leaving a single block in the center to carry all the weight above it. The moment Gregory removes his block, the tower collapses and the whole group throws jeers at him. 

Another round is set up, and Sveta turns to me. 

“Kaitlyn, you should play!” she encourages, and I chew the inside of my cheek as I consider it.

I’ve only been out drinking once or twice, when my mother and my schedule both permitted it. But the ale at the town tavern was watered down and chalky, and our tavernkeep lacked the gold for anything of higher quality, so I only needed those few trips to steer me away from the bar for good. But the drinks here are more colorful, the glass bottles of alcohol and spirits on the table remind me of the bathroom soaps that Dachaigh lets me use.

They're all looking at me expectantly, even icy Josefina is staring a challenge, and I am truly interested in this game, the rowdiness and jeering have drawn me in. I finally concede. 

“I suppose so,” I say, and Gregory jumps from the spot he’s standing in, legs fused together from the last block he chose as he hops to the kitchen.

“Whaddya like, Kate?” he shouts. 

“Anything but ale,” I respond as both Sveta and Emile crunch themselves together to make room for me.

Gregory steps out of the kitchen, walking normally and sticking his nose up at the boos and hisses of the others.

"I'm not spilling this beautiful drink," he says as he sets it in front of me. The drink is bubbly, with the top a bright cranberry-red that fades to clear at the bottom, and he's taken a wedge of lime and stuck it to the rim. 

"It's a good beginner cocktail, but you'll wanna stir it first," Gregory says, nudging my shoulder with his own and winking at me. 

I stir the drink with my finger until the whole thing is a pale pink, and then I pop my finger into my mouth. Oh! It is cranberry! And the fizziness reminds me of ale, but with a different taste, it's not bitter or lingering. I most definitely feel the burn of alcohol behind it all, but the cranberry and this sweet fizzy drink have cut through it. 

I take a long sip of my drink and Gregory rests his shoulder against mine. "You like it?" 

"I do, thank you so much."  

The next tower is set up while I sip on my drink, and I share pleasantries with Gregory and Sveta. They tell me to come visit more often, to stop by with more fruit, and it makes me feel warm that they enjoy my company. Kimiko asks about my dress, and when I tell her I made it her mouth opens on an 'O', and starts the others on a tirade of questions about how I made it. 

The dress is one from the fabric stocks from the market, a deep purple with a triangle pattern woven in. It had been one of the nicer fabrics I'd received and wanted to use right away, and their acknowledgment of my craftsmanship makes me want to hide behind my drink. I've always loved to sew.

The game starts with Sveta and goes through each person, and eventually my turn is up. I copy Josefina's method of testing a few blocks with my fingers to see if they're loose, and pull one out with ease, squinting at the small script. “Um, I have to…” I flip the block around, but that doesn’t make the words magically appear.

“My handwriting can’t be that bad,” Gregory jokes, leaning over my shoulder to examine the block.

I puff my cheeks out, indignant. “I’m still learning,” I mutter, embarrassed, but the alcohol numbs the effect.

Gregory reaches for the block, turning it back over, and making a noise of understanding. “It says you can’t speak a word for the next hour,” Gregory says, and blows a stray piece of hair from his face. “Well that’s far too easy for you. You’re as quiet as a church mouse.”

“Draw another,” Sveta says, eyes glittering. They all turn to me with the same expression as Sveta chants, “Do it, do it!” And as the rest join in, I laugh.

Their joy is infectious. I know I need to stand my ground in this world, but this feels like an exception. I’m among friends, I realize, and friends aren’t something I’ve had in years. I want them to like me, I want to gain their approval, to be part of the group even though I don’t live with them. Even Josefina is wearing a smirk as they all lean in. I draw a second block and they all cheer, and it’s hard not to smile at their energy. 

This block is much easier to read: Take a shot. “What’s a shot?”

“It’s a swig of pure alcohol,” Kimiko says.

“That…sounds horrible,” I say, and the others laugh as if I’ve made a joke.

“It is,” Kimiko says, nodding. “That’s why you gotta drink it fast.”

Emile holds up two large bottles, both nearly empty save for a few fingers of clear liquid in the bottom. “Tequila or vodka?”

My head is already pleasantly swimming from the drink Gregory made me, and my words come out before I have a chance to think, “Whichever will get me drunk faster.”

This isn't like me, I usually think before I speak. Should I be worried about what they may get me to do if I become too drunk? My gut tells me 'no' but my gut is also requesting more alcohol, so I'm not sure how trustworthy it is at the moment.

“Tequila, definitely,” Emile says, handing me the bottle in his right hand. It smells foul when I bring it to my nose, and I wonder if the other one would’ve been any better.

"Oo-- wait!" Gregory bounces up and jumps into the kitchen, and comes back with a sliver of lime and the table salt. "Do it this way, makes it easier to swallow."

Sveta snickers behind her hand and Gregory flips her off before showing me the process. Salt on the hand first, then tequila, then bite down on the lime. At first glance it seems like a lot, but I manage to do everything in the right order. The tequila tastes foul, but it warms my belly as it goes down.

The game continues for another hour, another round of drinks and even more shots. There’s laughter and gossip and chatter all around, and it’s easy to fall back and let it take me wherever it needs to go. I’m giddy, I feel lighter than air, I want to spread myself over the couch and take a nap.

Eventually, the game is abandoned in favor of conversation. They’re not confined to a single place like I am, lucky bastards. They can go to and from the market, learn magic on their own time, and even meet up with other fae without worrying about a hulking guardian in their shadow.

Their looks are deceiving as well. Sveta is nearly three times my age, and Gregory claims he was brought here nearly forty years ago.

I originally came here for a break, but maybe they have answers for me. I wait for a lull in conversation before asking, “Do you all know anything about Aure— the forest god?”

“Only that he’s terrifying,” Gregory says, laughing. “But he’s very important. Oversees the forests everywhere.”

I scoot forward. “Has he ever brought another human here?”

Gregory squints. “I dunno. Sveta you’ve been here the longest, has he ever brought a human back?”

Sveta’s head falls heavily to the side as she purses her lips. “Not that I remember.”

Kimiko mutters behind me, “He probably ate them.”

Gregory balks. “Kimi! That’s not nice.”

“What? We’re all thinking it! He’s the most powerful god this side of the world, and he picks a single human to shack up with? Of course there was one before, there’s probably hundreds he brought back! They probably realized how horrifying he is and tried to take off, and he ate them!”

The others laugh, but Emile hums in thought. “That sounds awfully sad,” he says. “To seek out companionship in another only to have them leave.”

Emile has been almost as quiet as I’ve been this evening. Not brooding, but observing. I get the feeling he’s very studious, maybe he could help me learn to read.

“That’s on him, though,” Josefina says. “That’s not the humans’ problem.”

“How do you get rid of something ingrained into your very being, though?”

Kimiko kicks her feet onto the table, brushing several blocks to the floor. “Don’t know, don’t care. Do you wanna live with him?”

“No, but I know someone who already does,” he says, nodding his head towards me.

I move to rub my arm, but overshoot and my hand winds up wrapping around the side and back. "I don't think he's all bad. Kind of pushy, but not cruel."

"Interesting," Kimiko says, leaning forward. "Tell us more.”

My face is already flushed from the alcohol, but I feel it growing steadily worse the longer the group looks at me, and that urge to please them comes back. I tell them what I can, about the house with its winding halls and nonsense layout. I tell them how Aurelius leaves me alone most of the day, of the animals I tend to and the library where I sleep. Telling them feels like unclogging a stream, the words flow forth  and before I know it I’m speaking of our relationship— the woes we’ve been having recently.

I finish my tirade with a huge sigh, letting my chin fall into my hand. “How do I make him listen?”

“How have you gotten his attention in the past?”

I flush as I remember. “Sex, usually.”

“Then do that!”

“Isn’t that…not right?”

She scoffs. “You’re a woman! You have to use what the gods gave you. Besides, you’re not dealing with a regular human, or even a standard fair folk. You’re bargaining with a god.”

I mull over her words for far too long, and GRegory claps me over the shoulder. “Kimi’s right, you’ve got to use what you’re given.”

I hum, thinking it over. It doesn’t sit easy in my stomach, but it’s the only thing I haven’t tried yet, the only thing left. I don’t want to manipulate Aurelius through this, but what other choice has he given me?

Sveta’s eyes glitter as she says, “Let us know how it works out.”

***

The walk back and a skein of water clears my head enough for me to walk up the stairs and navigate the halls back to the library. It's still difficult; the sun has long since gone down and I've never navigated the path in the dark before, let alone walking it backwards and slightly inebriated. But I make it back, carefully stepping around a each book I’d tossed aside.

We haven’t spoken since he confessed his love for me. Would he be suspicious of my actions? Pick up on the deception? Even thinking of deceiving Aurelius through such a manner makes my mouth sour. I tip the remaining water into my mouth and swallow as I think.

He’s not listened to me in a way that matters, not since we came here. I want him to hear me, to see me as more than a pet or trinket to be toted around. I’m not a handbag, and he needs to see things my way. If the only way is to train his attention on something else while I get what I need, then so be it.

And I’m pretty enough to pull this off! My hair is clean and my skin unblemished, my frame isn’t too manish from chores or my nails dirty. I’m decent at sex, I suppose I could be better, more confident in my abilities. The show I’d put on for Aurelius at the altar had been a good start, but what else is there?

The world tilts as I swing my legs over the sill and stand far too fast, but I have my wits about me in a moment’s time. I can do this, I can.

The door to Aurelius’ room is heavier than I remember, but I may be weaker at the moment. Still, it slides open without a sound and I step into the warm air of his quarters.

I whisper to the room, “Aurelius?”

No response. Listening, I hear the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. Perfect.

As I crawl into the nest and around Aurelius' huge sleeping animal body, he rouses awake.

“Kyla…?” He says, voice low, lifting his head to look at me. He stills, taking in my nudity. “Are you hurt?”

He surges forward, inky arms coming from his form to pat me down. They're warm from sleep, warmer than usual, soft and attentive in their motions.

“I’m fine, I’m fine! I just…” I trail off, shifting my weight from foot to foot. No, this won't do. Confidence. If I want something, I have to take it. I grab one of the hands that was patting me down and hold it to my breast.

Aurelius pauses, parsing my meaning, and a low, pleased growl making me and the whole nest shiver. Without another word, shadowy tendrils pick me up off the ground, holding my wrists together and my legs apart. I kick and thrash with what little movement I'm allowed as Aurelius grabs one of my feet and presses my knee to my chest. “Wait!” 

He stops immediately, hovering over me in that massive, animalistic form. “Is this not part of the game?”

I shake my head, deciding to unpack that comment later, and give him my best pout. “I want to play a different game. Would you lie back for me?”

He stares at me for a long moment, before releasing me from his grasp and setting me down on the floor. “As you wish,” he says quietly. His form shrinks to the one I’m familiar with, the shadowy cloak falling away to reveal the rest of his body. Still like a man’s body, with long limbs and dark skin that blends into the shadows and shimmers out of focus the longer I look at it. His skin is rough like cloth, and the muscle underneath flexes as he moves.

“You weren’t here today,” he says, keeping his gaze on me as I throw my dress over my head. It lands in a far corner of the nest, where I can get to it later.

"I was with friends," I reply quietly.

"The humans," he growls, and I nod. "You're supposed to stay here."

"I’m not doing that," I say, surprising myself with how firm my voice is.

Aurelius doesn't ask me anything further after that. He remains reclined like I asked, but I see his hands flexing against the floor as I step forward and spread my fingers over his belly.

“Why don’t you show me this more?” I ask as I run my hand up his stomach. I’m so preoccupied with seeing him— truly seeing him since that first time— that I nearly miss how his breath hitches at my touch. My heart skips over itself in nervousness. This is going to be easy.

“What is this new game?” He asks instead, long hands wrapping around my wrist and pulling me forward. My hand glides up over his ribs, past his chest to land on his shoulder.

“It’s called, uh, bartering,” I say.

Aurelius stares at me, and says flatly, “I know what bartering is.”

I grin, showing my teeth. “Wonderful! Then you already know how to play.”

I swing my leg over his hips and smooth my hands up his chest. I can't lose myself to him this time, I need my wits about me if I want this to go the way I need it to. The notion of what I’m about to do as some sort of transaction has that sour feeling returning, but I push it back. As much as I don’t like it, this is how we fit together, there isn’t an alternative. 

My heart lurches again-- even when I’m just sitting on him, I can already feel him hardening against my ass. 

"I give you something," I say, reaching behind my back and blindly feeling until my hand wraps around his cock. "You give me something back."

Aurelius doesn't immediately respond, and even props himself up on his arms like he means to throw me off. Instead, he leans forward, reaching out a hand as if to cup my face. But he stops at the last moment, so close I can feel the heat of his skin, and pulls his hand back and lowers himself to the floor. 

"Alright," he mumbles, almost too low for me to hear, and he sounds sad. I need to fix that.

I throw my leg back over his hips so I'm kneeling at his side, and I grasp his half-hard cock with both hands. My fingers don't meet at the widest part and even with stacked fists the head of him breaches my fingers. He's still as big as I remember him. 

He hardens fully at my touch, and I'm flattered that he still feels this way, I was so sure I'd ruined myself for him. I want to meet his starry eyes, but I can't bring myself to do it. It's too much, but I have to push forward. 

I shift my hand down so I can lick over the tip, tonguing the sensitive underside as I gently squeeze my hands. He tastes of iron, sharp and subtle, and smells like the forest. I take the head of him into my mouth and he gasps, the hand closest to me resting on the back of my head, brushing my hair away from my face, and I want him to leave it there, to guide me because I have no idea what I’m doing, but that’s not part of this game.

I pull off with a wet noise, spit lewdly trailing from my lips to his cock, and I frown up at him. “No, hands down.”

Immediately, his hand disentangles from my hair, and I do want the warmth back, but I can focus better like this. The branching antlers at the back of his head have his head set at an odd angle, but even with his snout pointed towards the ceiling, I can feel his gaze on me, watching.

I swallow hard. His gaze is intense, it makes me want to perform well. Like when he watched me strip, I want to please him, I want to surprise him somehow. 

I squeeze my thighs together as I lean forward and take his cock into my mouth again, releasing my top hand so I can take it further down. The lowest I can go without gagging is only halfway, so I move my hands in time with my head to make up the difference. 

At the contact, Aurelius chokes a noise, shifting his hips again as I bob my head at a slow, steady pace. 

I learn quickly that he enjoys certain things: attention on the head, and a forceful pace over a faster one. I have no idea if this is working, or if I’m even doing this right, but I follow the sounds he makes, the noises he swallows down. 

The only time I ever heard about this sort of fucking was gossip with the ladies of town. They spoke of how unpleasant it was, how their husbands always wanted it. But I don’t find this unpleasant. I only have to worry about the growing arousal between my legs which is easy to ignore, leaving me able to focus on Aurelius. His hips twitch when I squeeze my hands, his claws are pulling up that layer of down on the floor, and his breathing is almost in time with my movements. 

This is a heady feeling, I realize as I twist my hands and run my tongue over his head again, tasting salt and heat. Aurelius gasps beneath me, and another bead of precome blooms over my tongue. I wait for another, when his breathing turns ragged and his legs begin to shake, to pull away with an obscene sound.

He groans to the ceiling, and his cock twitches in my hands. He turns his head down to me fully, and huffs a breath through his nose.

"Why did you stop?"

My smile is easy, and my heart is racing. "I need something from you."

"Kyla…" he warns, his voice a low growl. I frown, but I'm frowning at myself. I must not have done well enough.

I sit up and straddle his hips, lifting myself onto my knees and positioning the glistening head of his cock at my entrance. The position forces me to settle the rest of my weight on my free hand, which I place directly over his heart. "Please?" I ask, pouting.

Before he can respond, I sink my hips down. It's not without pain, but I can push it to the back of my mind for now. The moment I settle my weight on his hips, Aurelius moans outright, something I haven't heard before. 

While I adjust, my hazy mind grinds away. I can't ask about the other human right out of the gate, I'll need a smaller favor so this doesn't backfire. I rest my other hand next to the first, and I feel his heartbeat like a bird underneath my fingers.

"I want more magic." 

Aurelius rests his hands on my waist. "Of course."

"Hands down," I order, and he starts like he's been shocked. His hands hover over my legs for a breath, before he sets them back on the ground, palms against the floor. I shiver at the rush of power that moves through me. I grind my hips forward and back, chasing my own pleasure on that rush, disregarding why I started this and instead finding something else. 

Oh, how I've missed this. The few times we've had sex since I've been here have been so…emotionally charged, like electricity beneath my fingers, here one moment and gone the next. But this, this is heat under my skin, the sun against my face, a spiraling pool of pleasure where I don't have to worry about any negative emotions. It's like the first time.

"Gods, this feels good," I moan, and Aurelius bucks beneath me. 

Slowly I gain my faculties, slowing my hips and eventually stopping. “Will you teach me more magic?”

He groans, a fist thumping against the floor. “When I have the time.”

I roll my hips once and he twitches like I've hit him. “That’s not an answer.”

He exhales, and I feel the strain in his muscles as he remains still. "Whatever you want."

I grind my hips slowly. "I want more magic."

"Of course."

I reward him with an agonizingly slow pace, and I have to hold back a laugh as he shudders beneath me. His hips are moving with mine, little thrusts he can't control that shove his cock that much deeper into me. It pushes the air from my lungs, and spurs me on. "Are you going to give it to me?"

"Yes," he breathes. "Yes, I will."

This is dangerous. I feel powerful, untouchable. I could ask him for anything-- no, I could command him to do anything, and he'd be at my mercy. This all-powerful god is like wet clay in my hands.

But then, like a clap of lightning, I remember that he's lied to me, that he's toted me around like an object, treated me like an afterthought. I remember why I'm doing this, and all the heat under my skin, all the arousal and feeling of power, pops. My stomach churns as I realize I can't bring myself to finish this.

I stop all movement, slipping forward and off his cock, and he whines. "Kyla…"

"Will you—“

“Now,” Aurelius growls. 

Despite the ice in my veins, the nest is getting warmer by the second, and I'm not sure how much longer he's going to last. It's now or never. “Was there another human before me?”

The very air freezes with the next thump of my heart. 

“Where did you get that idea?” he says slowly, and I want to slam my hands on his chest. The fair folk won’t lie, but that doesn't mean they aren't capable. 

“Tell me and I’ll let you come,” I say, pushing my hips back until I feel the hard length of him pressing against my ass. I'm losing control of the situation fast. I need answers.

Aurelius growls, and there’s a timbre to it, pitched low and dangerous. He used this on Gregory when he took me away from the market, and again when he brought me back. He’s angry. Not the fun, teasing anger that arouses me, but the hard, volatile anger of an ancient god with an ego.

“Who told you?” he asks, voice quiet and dangerous, which only sparks my anger brighter.

“You lied to me,” I press, leaning forward and bracing my hands on his chest. “So what happened?” And when Aurelius doesn’t reply, my anger comes out full force. “Did you eat them? Kill them? Tell me!"

Aurelius sits up in a flash, and I tumble to the side of the nest. As I fumble to my hands and knees, angry tears prick at my eyes. "What else are you keeping from me? What else have you lied about?!" I stand on shaking legs and wipe the tears as they fall.

Aurelius rights himself, sitting, and crosses his arms over his chest. "It was for your protection."

"It's for your protection!"

"Don't be ridicu-- Kyla!" He tries to stop me as I snatch my dress and storm out as fast as my legs will allow me. I take the barest of moments to pull the dress over my head before I'm fleeing Dachaigh and headed towards the Forest of Souls.

I can't do this anymore. I don't want to be here. And I know of a place where he'll never find me again.

I don't have any books, any extra clothes, I don't even have food or water, but I don't care. Anything is better than staying here for another minute.

I'm several dozen steps towards the forest when I pause to catch my breath. I ran all the way through Dachaigh to get out, and I ran until I was under moonlight and then some more. I'm nearly to the treeline, that soft lilting melody calling to me again, when I look back.

Dachaigh still towers up to the heavens, an obelisk in the nighttime air, as if she's swallowing the sky itself.

With space to think now, I'm hit with a pang of melancholy. I can't consider this place home, but living within those walls has been comfortable. Dachaigh is a good friend, and when Aurelius was there I enjoyed his company. It wasn't enough, but what little I did get, I treasured. The animals will miss me, I think, and I'll miss the routine. Mortimer may wonder where I've gone, and I wonder how long it will take him to realize that I'm not coming back. I won't be able to see Gregory, or Sveta, or Kimiko. I'll even miss Josefina's tilted smirks.

I turn back to the forest, and run straight into a solid shadow.

“Where are you going?” Aurelius asks, arms crossed over his chest. He's pulled himself to his full height, towering over me and blocking my line of sight to the forest. He's wearing the traveling cloak he always does, although it's askew over his shoulders as if he rushed to put it on. I stumble back, if only to allow myself space to breathe.

“I…I…”

He tilts his head like a bird, this way and that, getting a better look at me, and says again, angrily, “I ask again: Where are you going?”

I straighten, solid in my confidence. “I’m leaving.”

“You can’t,” he says simply.

I scoff. “And why not?”

“I will find you.”

“Not if I want to be lost!”

He growls, the sound reminding me of a predator. “I will not let you.”

“Like hell you will!” I push past him, making a wide arc and trying to run again.

I’m only a handful of steps past Aurelius when his large arm wraps over my waist and yanks me back. He pulls me into his body, his head above me, and he laughs. It's a chilling sound, his great jaw opening and his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “You think you can escape me? I’ve already marked you as mine.”

I struggle against his grip the same way an insect struggles against a spider's web. “I don’t want it! I want to leave!” I push myself out of his grasp and the second I hit the ground, I start to run.

“Kyla!” He shouts, but I keep running. Almost there, almost there! “You will listen to me!”

“I’m done!” I shout back, and it hurts, oh it hurts so much to say. I’m leaving both Aurelius and my heart on the ground in front of his home. "I'm done with the whims of a single forest god!"

He catches up easily, and I'm back to struggling against his grip again. His growl shakes the trees, rumbles the very ground I'm standing on. “I am the god of every forest.”

“You do not have domain over me!” I struggle in his vice-like grip, tears streaming down my face. I was so close, so close. “Get the fuck off—I hate you!”

Aurelius pauses, and I know I hit a nerve. I didn't mean it-- it just came out. I want to correct myself, but I struggle to find the point. It's what it took for Aurelius to let me go.

The grass is wet and cold beneath my bare feet as he gently sets me down. I gather my skirts in one hand-- it'll make my trek through the underbrush quicker.

"If you wish to leave," he starts, slowly releasing me from his grasp and angling me towards the wood.

The quick change in his demeanor throws me off course. I snap my head around to look at him, and I see that he's shrinking down, skull transforming from that sharp-toothed predator I saw at the market and into his normal deer.

"Then go," he snaps, jaw clicking shut.

I take a step forward. The forest is pitch black, I can't make out anything beyond the treeline. The energy wafting from it is dangerous, yet tempting. I could truly get lost in there. Alone for eternity.

Even still, I look back at Aurelius. He's sat on the ground, legs curled up, long arms wrapped around them. His great head rests on his knees, angled towards me, watching. Not like a predator about to pounce, but a creature resigned to its own pain. When he sits on the ground like this, only his antlers are taller than me.

I look back to the forest, and I hear her whispering call, a lullaby to lure me into the depths of this ancient, consuming wood. Closing my eyes, I sway to the soft tune, a melody that rolls over itself, transforming and rearranging. It wants me to play, wants me to join them.

The spell is broken, interrupted by a low whine, like an injured animal. It's coming from behind me, and I suck in a breath as I turn just far enough to see Aurelius out of the corner of my eye. He's still sitting on the ground, watching me, and I'm hit with a realization.

I don't want to leave him, not forever. I want to get away from this harmful, sticky relationship that we're in. One where I have to get him mad to make him listen to me. Where he doesn't take me seriously until I threaten to harm myself.

Without a word, I close the distance between us. He remains still, even when I grab his great skull with both hands. His voice is barely audible, "I will miss you terribly." 

And heaving a sigh, his form melts into the ground, along with it his skull, which shrinks down. He's making himself small for my benefit again.

This is the Aurelius I want to talk to. The understanding, calm one, as opposed to the volatile, angry god I've been interacting with.

I sigh through my nose, and avoid the urge to sit with him, standing my ground. I haven't fully decided to stay, not yet. "What happened to the other humans you brought here, Aurelius?"

Sensing my hesitation, Aurelius leans into my touch, but I'm not ready for that yet, so I pull away and let my hands rest at my side. I need the truth, even if it's just to know why.

"There was only one before you," he says. "It was just as I've said: he ran in fear. I lost him in the woods." Again, he tries to knock my arm with his head in his form of intimacy, but I twist away from it. He rears his head up in offense, but when I make no moves to reciprocate, he rests his chin back over his knees. 

"You lied to me," I say.

"I did."

"Why?"

It’s a long, quiet moment before he answers slowly, "I did not want the cycle of time to roll over again. I asked him the same that I asked you, and he said yes. So, I brought him here. " 

His head tilts the other way, resting on his folded arms. "And he hated it here, as you do. He hated our home, hated this place. Recoiled at my touch and refused to speak to me. And then one morning, he was gone." He shifts uncomfortably. "But you called me beautiful, and I thought this time would be different. I knew once I had you that I'd never find another. So I did everything with you that I didn’t with him. I gave you space, let you be. I was just happy to have our home filled with life again." 

I look back to the woods as I turn his words over in my head. The temptation to leave has weakened, but I can still feel it. Eodine's words float back to me: No one would ever bother you anymore.

And that doesn't sound bad. Peaceful, even. But would I enjoy that life? Is that the way I want to live? I'd be alone, forever. I'd never see another human, or even another soul, for that matter, and I don't want to take a path like that. Could I live without companionship for eternity? I was willing to give up my entire life for this god to stay by my side. 

I sigh, to myself and the world around me. No matter what path I take, a path away from Aurelius would be…lacking. I'd miss him terribly, just as he'd miss me. 

I run my thumb along a line of silver in Aurelius' antlers, the shape closer to the branch of a tree than any kind of animal. He's shown me so little of himself, but I haven't shown him much of myself either. If we have the rest of eternity together, I'd like the chance to know him better, and let him know me. 

"Aurelius…" I say, sighing. "I'm not afraid of you. But you treat me like an object. I'm not a pet."

“I taught you magic,” he says. “I involved you in the festival planning and brought you gifts. I wouldn’t do that for a pet.”

I sigh, pushing a lock of hair from my face. "I sleep alone, I eat alone, and I live my life in that library, alone. When we're actually together it feels like you're a ghost. You cart me around like a child and treat me like—" I stop myself, my air coming out in a rush. "You asked me to plan your festival and then discounted all of my notes."

"But it is tradition to lay the vendors a certain way," he says, tone soft and conversational. 

I roll my eyes. "Is it tradition to bring a human into your home?"

He pauses, which tells me that he hadn’t considered it. "I suppose not," he says. 

He did remember that I wanted to learn magic, something I mentioned nearly a month ago; he chased after me thinking I had been stolen, and put a tracking spell on me so he’d never lose me again. He thinks he loves me, and whatever that may mean truly, to him it's something important.

He sighs, mimicking me with a dramatic heave of his shoulders. "Much of the time, I am a stone in the river, pushing everything around me and unable to change my own path. I was trying to give you space so you would want to remain here, so you weren't afraid."

That makes sense, in a strange, Aurelius-esque way. It’s almost sweet, him realizing that his presence frightens others and taking steps to minimize it. I rest my hands over top one of his, and he turns his palm sideways to curl his fingers around mine.

"You left me alone," I mutter. “You know I don’t like that.”

"You weren't alone."

I try not to roll my eyes or smile. He said it so genuinely. "Dachaigh isn't you."

He speaks slowly, as if in realization, "You…prefer me." 

He sounds so surprised that I can't help but laugh. “I do.”

“You want to be with me.”

I snort. "All the power you wield, and you couldn’t piece together that I enjoy your company."

"You want to eat meals with me."

"I do."

"You want to sleep with--" I cover his snout with my hands, laughing.

"Yes, yes, you big dummy! I like being around you, except when you're being rude and pushy. I like this world you've brought me to, and the home you’ve opened up to me. I like--" I stop and bite my tongue before I say something lewd.

But the stars in his eyes sparkle as he asks, "Yes?"

And I'm very bad at denying him. "I like getting you so angry that you fuck me within an inch of my life."

He chuffs. "There are other ways to get me to fuck you."

"But," I flush, looking resolutely at his bony snout and not his eyes. "I enjoy that way."

He hums, low and approving. "Because you are mine."

"Yes," I say softly, enjoying the word on my tongue. "At least, I want to be."

"Then you are," he says, leaning forward to knock my head with his, but he stop halfway, waiting for me. I reach out my arms and pull him forward, closing the gap. My temple gently taps the side of his head, and warmth curls in my chest at the contact.

"This is called a truce. I'm giving you another chance." Even saying it has me feeling lighter. I have confidence in Aurelius, I know he can do better. I've seen it.

He hums. “How am I to repay you?" 

I let my head fall against his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat in my ear, quick yet strong. "Not everything is a debt to be paid." 

"It is here." His voice vibrates through his chest.

"Not between us." Not anymore. I feel the very spark of my being, maybe it's my soul, release all the tension I'd been holding for the past month as I relax into Aurelius.

The pull of the forest, that steady, whispering voice that promised me a life of solitude, is gone.

Chapter 9>>

[sonic-an-shadow]

To the Sonadow couple, do you believe Big Foot is real?

Yes. 😃

No. 😒

... 🙁

... 😒

Why not? 🤨🤨

Simply because it's all a hoax. There's too little evidence of his existence, and whenever he does have evidence it's questionably bad quality. 😒😒

So are your photos. 🤭🤭

😒😒🙄🙄😒😒... That's besides the point. The point is that there is no hard, solid evidence of his existence. 😕😕

So he's not real to you simply because he has no proper evidence? 🧐🧐

Yes. 😌😌

🤔🤔... Then I'm going to get you some evidence!! 😃😃

🙁🙁... How!? 🤨🤨 You'll have to find a forest where he'll most likely be, not to mention that he's on Earth in the human world. You'd get lost- nope, no, absolutely not. 😠😠😠

WHAT!?😟😟 WHY NOT!? 😫😫

Because you'll get lost and I don't want to go out looking for you on a witch hunt. 😠😠🫵🫵

Don't you mean 'recovery search?'🤨🤨

No, witch hunt, because once I find Bigfoot his hide is mine and I'm going to make him hate that he ever got lazy and allowed the first human to ever spot him. 😠😠

😐😐... It's nice to know you love me, and I hope to never be at the end of your wrath. 😅😅

Well don't do anything worthy of said wrath and you won't have to see it first hand. 😠😠

Easy peasy, you love me too much to ever get that mad at me anyways. 😚😚🥰🥰

Push it just right and you just might. 😒😒😠😠🫵🫵

A-hahaha... 😅😅😙😙I'm still going to look for Bigfoot. 😄😄

Fine. 😒😒

YAY!!! 🥳🥳

But make sure to keep in contact. 😌😌

I will. 😄😄

And make sure to check in with me every hour. 😏😏

Got it! 😉😉👍👍

And don't fall into any bodies of water. 😌😌

I won't, Shads. 🙄🙄

Good, I hope you have luck on this unsuccessful mission. 😒😒

Oh come on Shads!! 😫😫Haven't I've done the 'impossible' enough to make you have faith me.😉😉😌😌

It's exactly that reasoning that I worry about you, because you'll somehow drown from a rock, and that's literally 'impossible'. 😒😒

... Shads please, have faith in me. 🥺🥺

.... 😒😒

.... Please? 😟😟I'll make your favorite tonight. 😁😁

.... 😒😒Extra cuddles tonight. 😒😒🫵🫵

Deal!! 🤩🤩😊😊

I'll have faith, and you'll be safe. 😌😌

I will. 🥰🥰

(ㅅ˙³˙)❤(´ε｀　)💕💕💕