#its just there for my brother since he’s taking lessons

[just-call-mefr1es]

a little teaser for what im working on🫶🏽🫶🏽

goofy ahh hand reveal ig👹👹

and i know this is irrelevant but i figured out all those notes n shit on my own‼️💯💯 pretty proud ngl

[ashblooddragons]

Just As Bad As You Are

Request made by @athzhowakar

Summary: When a worderful lay with your husband leads to you giving him good news, but what if he pieces together your dark secret, the only thing you would ever keep from your dear older brother.

Word count: 1377

Warnings: smut, p in v, slight choking, mentions of miscarriges, mentions of poisioning, toxic relationship, Targcest, tell me if I missed anything

I moan as Maegor fucks me from behind, there isn’t a night he doesn’t take me. For why should he go to his others when they can’t give him children and I’ve already given him three?

“Maegor.” I moan out as he grabs my hair making me arch my back.

“I’m gonna put another babe in that belly of yours, you’ve been empty of my seed for too long.” he groans out as he grinds his hips just right, that he makes me see stars. 

I can’t help but laugh, for ever since the Maesters said I was fit for childbearing again there hasn’t been a morning or night that his seed wasn’t working its way inside me. “Do you truly think with how often you take me that I am not with child yet?” I say before another moan leaves my throat when his palm lands on my rear. 

“Every time I think I fuck that brat out of you, then it rears its head begging to be taught a lesson.” He says before pulling out and flipping me so I lay on my back only to slam back into me with more force and vigor than before. 

“What, no snarky remark, no comment on how I love when you’re a brat? He teases as he takes my right leg and puts over his shoulder so we both feel him go deeper. 

I can’t even speak, I just grip the hair on the back of his neck as he ruts into me. I know if any maid, courtier, or gods forbid one of his other fucking wives, walked by they would only hear the sound of skin hitting his and obscene moans. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” I beg as I feel my peak just along the horizon. 

“Go on, cum on my cock you little slut.” He demands as he reaches up to grip my throat choking me until he feels my cunt spasm around his cock as I milk him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck.” He groans out as his seed fills me before he lays against my chest.

We lay there as we both come down from our highs. Me rubbing his back tracing all his scars like constellations, and him kissing my neck and moving his hands up and down my thighs adn ribs. 

It’s these moments I feel the safest, not when I have two guards following me, or when I stand next to my darling golden Gaelithox. No, I feel the safest when I’m in the arms of the man I love, and who loves me.

“I wasn’t being a brat, the Maesters told me last night I’m with child again.” I whisper before playfully biting his ear.

His look is priceless when he leans back looking down at me as he uses his arms to hold himself up. “Do not jest.” He says with that tone that makes even men tremble, but not me.

I take his shocked state as a chance to take control and flip us so I’m on top. “I do not jest, my moon blood is two moons late.” I say as I pin his arms next to his head. We both know if he wanted to he could easily get out of my grip, but we also both know he doesn’t want to.

With those words I climb off his lap and take my robe and wrap it around me as I go to tell the guard that I am in need of a bath. As I wait I decide to brush my hair before my bath as it doesn’t need washed but it most definitely needs brushed after our escapades. 

I notice Maegor is lost in thought but assume it must be because of a council meeting, he pulls on his breaches as my Maids come in with hot water for my bath. I sigh in relief as I sink into the heat of the bath waving my Maids away. “Leave me.” 

I start to scrub my arms with pomegranate seeds not noticing Maegor taking a stool and sitting behind me. 

“You’ve never lost a babe.” His gruff voice fills my ears startling me as I turn to look up at him.

“No I haven’t?” I look at him confused, fighting the fear that fills my belly that he has figured it out. 

He only moves to take some pomegranate and my other arm starting to scrub the coarse seeds into my skin. I watch as his jaw tenses and releases and I know he knows when his eyes look into mine. 

“And yet all of my other wives have.” He says his eyes boring into mine but I will not show fear, I don’t regret what I did. “I thought Tyanna, though I suspect I was right with her. But there were many lost, too many she couldn’t have known about that left their mothers wombs too soon. My Council said you must have something to do with it, I didn’t want to believe them, but now I wonder if I should have.” He says gripping my arm to the point tears come to my eyes but I refuse to let them fall.

 “Do you want me to admit something? Perhaps make the accusation.” I hiss out as I grit my teeth. 

I watch as his nostrils flare in rage, I know he doesn’t want to accuse me, I’m his sweet little sister, but he also knows I won’t admit anything if he doesn’t accuse me first. 

“Did you force them to miscarry? Did you poison my other wives?” He demands with a scowl.

“Yes.” 

I watch as his face morphes into shock and rage. I know he must have been praying I would no, that I would deny these allegations until my last breath, but I won’t for I don’t regret what I did.

“Why?” He asks in a calm voice that I know is hiding a inferno of rage.

“Your my brother, we came from the same womb, and yet I had to share you with a barren Hightower, a whore from across the seas, and three more courtly whores. You didn’t even wed me properly, you took me at the same time as you did those two other bitches looking for any needy hound. I knew what I had to do, Mother didn’t teach me those dark ways for nothing, she knew just as I do now. That you are weak, you will take any lady or whore to your bed and call her wife, that all a man has to do is have his pretty daughter suck your cock and then he is a man to be jealous of. But I am not some Lady of court, nor am I a whore, I am a dragon and a dragon must find another of their kind or else their embers will cease to burn. So I poisoned your stupid little wives, and I made sure Tyanna didn’t touch my womb for I would be the only one to bear your children. I don’t regret it, I never would, but now you have decision to make.” I say breathless after I let all the darkness I had kept hidden from him for so long out of my heart and into the air so only us and the gods to hear and judge.

He only stares at me, tears brimming his eyes before he looks down, shaking his head. “And what decision is that?” He asks force breaking from sheer shock.

“Will you execute me, charge me for my crimes? Or will you keep this a secret that we take our graves letting no man judge me, only the gods.” I say reaching over the tub to take his hands in mine. 

I smile when I feel his hands squeeze mine and he looks back up at me and says. “Now what kind of older brother would I be to have my little sister hanged for something so trivial?” 

He then leans forward and kisses me fiercely picking me up as I wrap my legs around his waste. 

“I knew you would never betray me.” I say as he kisses down my stomach towards my core as he begins another round.

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @athzhowakar @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy

[marauder-misprint]

Klepto

Regulus Black x fem!Slytherin!reader (Sirius Black x reader is endgame)

series masterlist

3k words

cw: swearing, fluff, Y/N

Slytherin girls didn’t need alarms to wake up Monday morning. They were woken up by shrieking at the end of the girls’ hallway. Dorcas was the first one to actually get out of bed and open the door. Girls were poking their heads out of their dorms all the way down the hall. A fifth year prefect walked to the source of the shrieking. 

“What’s that horrid noise?” Cora groaned, rolling over and putting her pillow over her head.

“Dunno…” Dorcas said.

The shrieking got momentarily louder, then silent and then it returned. The prefect talked to Dorcas and then moved on. She closed the door and groaned loudly.

“Williams lost some necklace and is freaking out. She decided to make it our problem this morning.”

Unable to fall back asleep, the girls got ready for the day. As they walked to breakfast together, it appeared all the girls in Slytherin house had the same issue. You thought the table never looked this full this early on a Monday. Sitting down, you pulled Williams’ necklace out from under your shirt.

“Oh, that’s a pretty necklace!” Beatrice told her. “I’ve never seen you wear it before. New?”

“New to me,” you smirked. 

“Noooo,” Beatrice responded.

“Oh, don’t be sore. She started it.”

“Who started what?” Dorcas asked, looking up from her paper.

“Klepto’s new necklace. Guess where she got it?” Beatrice said.

“No!” Dorcas exclaimed.

“Williams?” Cora hissed.

You nodded and the girls groaned. 

“You caused me to wake up almost an hour before I wanted to!” Cora exclaimed. 

“Worth it.”

---

Sirius didn’t bring up Regulus’s crush to his friends until Potions class on Monday.

“I figured out who Reg wants to ask out,” he said to James, who was stirring a potion counterclockwise.

“... seven…eight…nine…ten,” he counted, not responding.

“Moony? Do you want to know?” Sirius asked, leaning back his chair so it stood on its back legs.

“Cutting beetroots right now…”

“I’ll bite, Padfoot. Who?” Peter asked, moving his textbook so Remus could see it better.

“Y/N,” he said in a low voice. 

Peter looked over a few tables to where you were working with Beatrice. 

“The girl from the party? Huh.”

“Yup. He has good taste.”

“Your parents would never approve,” James said, not taking his eyes off the cauldron.

“And why’s that? She’s a Slytherin?”

“Half-blood.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe it’s his hidden life-long dream to get burned off the Black Family Tree,” Remus suggested, sliding the beetroot slices into his cauldron. 

“Ha. That’s mine,” Sirius said. “If it were his, we’d be friends.”

“You gave him decent dating advice,” Remus reminded him. “I’d say that’s enough to call you two friends.”

“Since it’s the only time we talked pleasantly all year, we’ll call it acquaintances.” 

Peter snorted. That caught Slughorn’s attention. He walked slowly past the boys. 

“Lupin, carrying Pettigrew again, are we?” he asked, giving Peter a side glance.

“Just working with my table partner, sir,” Remus answered, not looking up from his potion. 

“I expect to see you do something more than joke around by the end of the lesson, Pettigrew,” Slughorn instructed before moving over to a group of Slytherin boys. 

“Anyways,” Remus said slowly and more quietly, “why do we care about who Regulus dates?”

“So Padfoot knows who’s off the market?” James suggested with a laugh.

“Because I think certain social dynamics are more interesting than this class,” Sirius corrected. 

“Maybe you care about your brother more than you let on,” Peter said, handing Remus their next ingredient. 

Sirius looked over at you, as you actively stirred your own potion and counted each stir out loud. Beatrice was prepping the final ingredient for the potion. They were further along than Remus was. He looked over at Snape’s table and then at Lily’s. Those two groups were adding the final ingredients so you weren't too far ahead.

“Prongs, where we at?”

“I need essence of daisyroot next,” he answered.

“Ah, helping Prongs now. He definitely cares about his baby brother,” Peter cooed. 

Handing James the root, Sirius said, “Maybe I care about him. Maybe I want to be able to say I helped Prongs with this potion when Slughorn comes back and questions us.”

Remus laughed. “Nothing like a last minute effort!”

“It’s my cauldron we’re using!” Sirius defended. 

“Just keep helping so we actually finish this period,” James said, holding out his hand. “Next ingredient!”

Sirius grinded some pearls and passed him the bowl. Peter took a sample from his and Remus’s potion and brought it up to Slughorn’s desk as Remus cleared their potion. 

“Third done and first review was at least exceeding expectations!” Peter gloated as he returned to the table. 

“Snape and Evans?” Remus asked, putting his set away.

“Who else?”

“Almost done,” James muttered as Sirius prepared their vial for the sample. 

James held out his hand for Sirius to hand it to him. Sirius took the vial up to the desk.

“Please tell me you did more than offer to bring the sample up,” Slughorn said, taking the vial from Sirius. 

“I did, sir. You can ask Potter to verify.”

Slughorn looked over at James, who gave him a thumbs up.

“Very well. I suppose that’ll do. Thank you, Black.”

“Here you go, Professor,” you said, causing Sirius to look over at the other end of the desk. 

You held out your vial for Slughorn to take. 

“Beatrice did help me. She’s cleaning up the cauldron.”

“Yes, I did see her helping. Thank you for confirming.”

You smiled and returned to your desk. 

“Did you need something more, Mr. Black?” Slughorn asked, looking at him over his glasses. 

“Oh, ah, no. Sorry,” he said quickly.

He sat down next to James, who was visibly trying not to laugh.

“Checking out if she’s good enough?” Remus asked, laughing.

“Not sure what you mean, Moony.”

“Padfoot,” Peter started to say.

“Nope. Not taking it today.”

All three boys laughed, causing looks from other tables, including yours. 

“Boys! Settle down while your classmates are finishing their assignments!” Slughorn hollered from his desk.

“Sorry, Professor!” Remus called, trying to stifle his laughter. 

“Idiots. My best friends are idiots,” Sirius muttered.

“Ah, but you love us!” James said, leaning over and putting an arm around Sirius. 

“Sadly, I do.”

---

For the first few weeks of school, you wore the stolen necklace under your shirt, keeping it safely hidden out of sight. Every once in a while, it would slip out, only for you to notice and tuck it back in. Regulus caught you doing it a few times. He didn’t get why you would wear such a pretty necklace just to hide it away. 

“You know, it’s not polite to stare at a lady’s chest,” Barty said.

“I’m not staring at anyone’s chest,” Regulus said coolly.

Barty leaned forward, using his middle and index finger to point at Regulus’ eyes and then your direction. 

“Huh. Your words say one thing but your eyes say another.”

Regulus glared at Barty. “Not staring at her chest, Junior. I’m looking at her necklace.”

Barty looked in your direction and scrunched his face.

“Don’t see no necklace.”

“She’s tucked it under her shirt,” Regulus sighed with a roll of his eyes. 

“Where her chest is. Got it.”

“I wasn’t staring at her chest!” he hissed angrily. “Now shut it before someone hears you.”

“Ah, but you’re a teenage boy! You’re expected to stare.”

“I thought it wasn’t polite.”

“It’s not, but when are we polite?” A crooked grin was plastered across Barty’s face. 

Regulus gave his shoulder a shove. “Fuck off.”

“Why’s Junior fucking off?” Evan asked, sitting down next to Barty and draping his arm around his shoulder. 

“I’m being sent to the time out corner because I caught Black being a pervert,” Barty pouted. 

Evan laughed. “Black being a perv? This is new.”

“Not a pervert,” Regulus affirmed. “Junior’s imagining things.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Evan mused before turning his gaze toward his boyfriend. “What’d you see this time?”

“Black was staring at Y/N’s chest.”

Evan raised his eyebrows and blinked slowly as he looked back to Regulus. 

“Pretty boy has a crush, doesn’t he?”

“Pretty boy?” Regulus and Barty asked simultaneously. 

“He’s pretty, you can’t deny that,” Evan said, seemingly answering only Barty. “Plus,” he continued with a finger on Barty’s chest, “you’re hot. That’s better than pretty.”

“If you’re going to be gross, at least go back to a dorm or something. Not everyone wants to see that,” Regulus groaned. 

“Can’t,” Evan said shortly. “Wilkes and Avery are studying in mine.”

“Ours not open?” Regulus asked Barty. 

“Stubby’s in there with some girl.”

Regulus groaned again. 

“Anywho, you didn’t say no to having a crush,” Barty said. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“And if you’re ogling her in public… Tsk, tsk Black. You’re down bad,” Evan teased. 

“Not ogling her!”

“Sure you’re not.”

Regulus groaned even louder, earning a glance from you. It was only momentary when he saw who he was with. You knew that when Barty and Evan were together, they could be irritating. Something about their combined attitudes seemed to press the buttons of everyone. 

“Dora,” you sang, “sounds like your brother is being a bother to Black.”

Pandora sent a lazy glance toward the table where the three boys were sitting.

“Hmm, not my problem right now. Junior’s got ‘im.”

Dorcas laughed. “Like he’s any help!”

“Oh, he for sure makes it worse. That’s why it’s not my problem.”

“Should someone put Black out of his misery though?” you asked.

“If you want to, be my guest,” Pandora said. “I’m not going over there.”

---

Squelch, squelch, squelch, thhhhhhhhhh-POP

You placed your hand on Beatrice’s wrist firmly.

Not looking up from your book, you said, “Either spit out your gum or leave the library, Bea.”

You didn’t need to be looking at her to see her roll eyes, but she got up anyway and threw her things into her bag. 

“Guess I’ll see you in the common room, then.”

You were almost happy to be by yourself at the table. You could work in peace now. Your dream scenario was short lived though. You couldn’t hold in your groan when Beatrice’s chair was pulled back with a scrape.

“Oh, sorry, I can work somewhere else,” Regulus said, an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck.

Your head snapped up and you gave him a sympathetic smile. 

“No! You can work here!” you said quickly. “I thought you were going to be Cora or Avery or someone… Please, you can sit there.”

“You sure?” he asked hesitantly despite putting his bag on the table already.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Your voice is more firm now. “You’re actually going to work.”

Regulus gave you a smile before fully taking the seat. For a while, the two of you worked in silence, as you thought it should be. That’s why you went to the library afterall. It was a place you count on to be quiet and it got on your nerves when people disrespected that. Beatrice had been mostly quiet but her gum chewing was amplified in the library’s peaceful atmosphere. 

“Hey, Y/N, I, uh, got a question for you,” Regulus said.

You put down your quill and look at what he’s working on. You assumed it was a homework question.

“I don’t think I’ll be much help. Don’t take Arithmancy.”

“It’s not about this. I was wondering if you’d like to go to the Quidditch game with me.”

You know exactly what he’s asking, but you decided to tease him a little bit.

“We go to every game together?” you asked, tilting your head. “Well, except for the ones you’re playing in.”

He rubs his forehead nervously.

“I mean, like, with me, with me.”

“Oh, you mean like a date?” You can’t hide your wicked grin.

He nods. He doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to give him an actual answer. 

“Yes, Regulus, I’d like that. Meet you at breakfast on Saturday?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’d be great!”

He was beaming at this point and you gave his shoulder a light shove. 

---

You were already in the Great Hall when Regulus made his way to the Slytherin table on Saturday. He wasn’t surprised to see you chatting away with Cora, Pandora and Beatrice. Dorcas was at the Gryffindor table with her girlfriend Marlene. He took a seat next to Pandora so he was diagonal from you. You immediately gave him a warm smile. If your friends know anything about the date or notice the nerves that Regulus is sure he’s exuding, they don’t say anything. Regulus hadn’t told anyone about asking you out. He preferred to be a private person. You knew that about him, which is part of why you didn’t tell anyone either. You were also preparing for the worst: if the date went bad, you could pretend it just never happened and your friends wouldn’t know any better.

“Y/N? You coming?” Pandora asked, standing up with the rest of the girls when they were ready to head to the pitch.

“I’m heading in with Reg. We’ll see you there.”

Pandora nodded and followed the girls out. Now that they were gone, Regulus scooted over a spot so he was directly across from you. 

“I’m almost ready,” he said before taking a sip of his tea.

“If you don’t want to wait for Black, we’re going to head out too,” Avery said.

“Did you not just hear me tell Dora that I’m going in with Regulus?” you snapped.

“No need to get snippy with me,” he replied with a snarl on his face.

You gave him a disgruntled face in return before turning back to Regulus. 

“We aren’t leaving until you’re done eating,” you assured him.

You really didn’t need to though. Almost as soon as the boys had reached the end of the table, Regulus had finished eating. You sat in silence at the table a little bit longer, watching the boys disappear from sight before getting up. It was like you both understood that you wanted to put a little bit of distance between you and the group. 

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

The Quidditch match itself didn’t feel like a date to you. You always stood next to Regulus. The main difference was that when you braced your arms against the railing, rather than just having his arm right up next to yours, he had his over yours. You didn’t mind it. It was nice to have a barrier from the wind on the one side. And, just like he always did, Regulus explained various fouls and plays. You never told him that you didn’t need him to despite knowing the game like the back of your hand. He didn’t know your mum was an avid fan and taught you everything she knows. 

You and Regulus were slow to leave the stands when the game ended. Your friend group didn’t notice you falling behind as they made their way back into the castle. 

“What do you say to continuing this date with an adventure?” you asked. 

“What do you have in mind?” Regulus replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Follow me.”

You led him to the grounds’ perimeter wall’s access staircase. 

“Does this count as an adventure?” he questioned as you climbed the stone stairs. “I think only first years really walk this stretch.”

“Because first years don’t know how to get through locked doors,” you told him. “Alohomora.” 

The door clicked open and you entered, closely followed by Regulus. The circular room was mostly filled with crates and boxes. You deemed it not too exciting and went to the door that led to the next stretch of wall. This door was already unlocked. Regulus just followed you wordlessly through a few stretches of the wall. He was partially taking in the different views, never having been to these portions of the wall, but he was almost semi-amazed that you would just unlock doors to explore the grounds. 

“Well, damn,” you said softly inside another one of the circular rooms when the next door didn’t unlock with the spell. 

“Anti-Alohomora jinx?” Regulus asked, moving closer to you.

“Appears so. Guess we’ll go about it the muggle way.”

Regulus didn’t know what you meant so he just watched in confusion as you grabbed two small metal rods from the floor. You stuck them into the lock and started clanking around. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Picking the lock?” you said like it was obvious.

“Picking the lock?” he repeated.

“How muggles get through locked doors without a key. You know, since they don’t have magic,” you explained, still working on the lock.

“Huh.”

“It’s pretty handy to know muggle stuff, you know. Never know when it’ll come in handy… Got it!”

You let the metal rods fall to the floor as you opened the door. Regulus smiled and followed you. 

“Oh, this was worth it!” you said, looking over the edge. 

The stretch of wall overlooked part of the Black Lake. Regulus had to admit that it was a breathtaking view. He joined you leaning against the stone.

“So did you know the view was amazing before dragging me here?” 

“I assumed. Been meaning to get through those doors for a while. You just gave me an excuse.”

“I gave you an excuse?”

“Yes, Black, keep up. Our date. Couldn’t let it end with Gryffindor winning the match.”

Regulus smiled. Some part of you must like him enough to not only prolong the date, but continue to call it a date rather than just an adventure or something. You also chose to explore this part of the perimeter wall with him when you could have ditched him and gone up here by yourself. Regulus knew he must be staring at you, but you were looking at the lake so maybe you didn’t notice. Or you didn’t care. Either way, he had to fight the urge to take your face in his hand and kiss you. He wanted to. You were beautiful and perfect and you were here with him alone. But he knew it was too soon. It would be too bold of him. He didn’t have that kind of courage. Maybe if he got a second date with you. Maybe then he’d be able to kiss you.

tags: @nsr-15, @kabekusa

[r0-boat]

could i request satan beelzebub amon and gamigin(+ anyone you want ofc) comforting/reacting to when gn mc is on their period? i feel like gamigin might freak out if he can recognize the smell of blood bc its just "blood??human??blood on human??where??heal??but they look fine??heal??" before asking his brothers what the fuck is going on 😭 i dont think he's interacted with a human before so i doubt he's heard of one especially since devils cant have kids with other devils so i doubt they have them.

Ayye what a perfect time to write this because I'm on my period.

Satan Beelzebub Amon +Gamigin with s/o on their period.

Sfw cutting for length

Satan

Stressed out with you, You're in pain and he doesn't like seeing you in pain. How dare your human body cause you pain and make you bleed?! He will rip out your uterus if it doesn't kill you(He does not understand human anatomy) instead to take out his anger he just rips up more stuffed animals.

Thinks The concept of you bleeding out of your uterus is cool but would never tell you. Is the one chasing away all the demons because you want to be left alone.

"babe at the store What size coochie you wear."

Beelzebub

Gladly will carry you around all day. Knows all your favorite snacks, So he'll barge into your room and just dump them all on you.

Shows up, gives you more things to eat, and then leaves. Only to show up again later, give you pillows and blankets, and then leave again.

You're unsure if it's some kind of demon instinct because it doesn't matter how many blankets you have. He'll just show up with more until you effectively have a nest of pillows and blankets, and he'll still keep coming back.

Amon

You mean an excuse for you to cuddle him all day and lay in bed with him? Sign him the fuck up. Well happily lay with you in the joint nest of pillows and blankets that Beel has gotten for you.

Probably will be constantly kicked out because you need privacy as you go through pain but somehow he always comes back in.

"please don't kick me out again I can be useful; I just want to cuddle 🥺👉👈"

Gamigin

*fearful Dragon noises* smell blood but where is it?! Had a human anatomy lesson from Lucifer. He stays by your side because even though it is normal for you to bleed once no month he kind of feels very uncomfortable knowing that you are bleeding and he isn't doing something about it.

He'll make sure you're fully comfortable, he want massage your aching muscles and make sure you have everything you need.

"Lucifer said if I want to stop the bleeding I have to get you pregnant after your cycle :)"

[nyxtickled]

i’ve seen a few people do musician monday and figured what better time to contribute, now that i finally have a keyboard to play on? (honorable mention: lil belly pouch hehe)

warning: i am not a proper musician so don’t come for my finger positions!!!! i know they’re wrong. i knowwww my pinky just kinda floats there bc i never learned the right hand positions. if u wanna learn more about my piano history, read below the cut<3

i’ve always had a fixation with the piano, since elementary school. the first time i played around with one, i was probably about 6-7 when i had a basic little electric keyboard. didn’t do anything fancy, but i was an only child so i used to just listen to my favorite CDs and then try to play the songs. the first song i taught myself was 1000 years by vanessa carlton lmao.

i never really got into lessons and idk why. i don’t know how to read sheet music, i don’t remember what the notes are called, i don’t know what any of the chords or keys are called. playing a piano is more of a puzzle-solving game for me, where i listen to songs that i find beautiful (usually they don’t even have piano in them, just pretty melodies/harmonies) and then i try to find the matching sounds on the piano.

it takes me anywhere from days to weeks to months, depending on how ambitious of a song i’m trying to cover (the wildest one i ever did was Its Not A Fashion Statement It’s A Fucking Deathwish by MCR lmaooo i swear it actually sounds so pretty on the piano tho) and it’s something that i’ll basically just sit there and hyperfixate on until ive worked the whole thing out. ofc that comes with memorizing it too, so usually i can kinda sorta play the song, but i have to practice it a million times until i can play it all the way thru.

i would love to learn how to play the piano like a Real Musician and like, read music and know what everything is called etc. it’s on my bucket list. but there’s just something so fun and peaceful and meditative about just sitting there and sorting it out by ear, it kinda feels like solving a rubik’s cube in a way.

anyway this is just me trying to remember how to play part of a song called severus and stone by radical face. it’s prolly my favorite song of all time bc of the story it tells and the artist himself but i ain’t getting into all that rn. the section of the song i pulled this part from goes like this:

brother woke just after midnight, and he didn’t make a sound. but as he climbed from out of bed with severed rings around his head, his feet didn’t touch the ground- i could feel it then, a tiny miracle, so i followed him into the woods. crossed beneath the trees, but only i left my prints in tow; he was afloat. found a lonely tree, tied himself within its limbs, and he said to me these words: “don’t you fear for me, for i am where i’m supposed to be.”

[hhimring]

Not sure whether this works for @maedhrosmaglorweek, really, but that is what I had in mind, when I wrote some more context for a previously existing snippet about Narsil.

(Teens, no major warnings)

It was Maglor who taught Elros sword-fighting, along will all other regular lessons. Maedhros, as on other occasions, would occasionally appear on the sidelines with additional hints, encouragement, and sometimes decide to take on a specific session, not always sharing his reasoning, and then leave the rest to Maglor again. This, Elros eventually concluded, was all to the good. Maglor was better with a sword than Elros was ever likely to be—or so it often seemed to him—and while Maedhros was even more brilliant, sessions with him were intense.

It was not that Elros feared that Maedhros would lose himself during a session, forgetting what he was doing or even attacking him. That slip of the mind into past pain seemed to happen only, at times, when Maedhros was not focussing on a task at hand. The grip of a sword in his hand had a way of steadying him, especially; it must be all those daily exercise routines. Even fully present, Maedhros could be nerve-racking in ways Elros preferred not to think too closely about, right below the surface. Elrond understood all that better, so Elros did not need to.

This, today, was just an unexpected trip to a storage room, though, although Elros would have liked to have some idea why they were here. He saw Maedhros lifting something long, narrow, and wrapped from the wall.

‘This blade should come to you,’ said Maedhros, thoughtfully.

‘Should?’ Elros asked, his voice brittle. ‘Is it from Sirion, then?’

Maedhros seemed taken aback.

‘No,’ he said after a pause. ‘It was originally commissioned by my uncle for the House of Hador. That is, it was intended for Gundor, Hador’s son. But it was just before the Dagor Bragollach and, by the time Telchar had finished the blade, Fingolfin, Hador and Gundor were all dead and the road to Hithlum was hazardous. My brother Caranthir stood surety and paid for the sword so that Telchar’s contract should not be breached.

Since then, the sword has sometimes been used in defence, at need, but it has never had an owner. It was crafted for someone of Hadorian height and stature.’ Maedhros looked meaningfully at Elros. ‘Like you.’

Elros realized, all at once, that what had brought this on was his recent, slightly embarrassing rapid spurt of growth—hence the measuring look that Maedhros had given him before taking him here. It was the first time Elros had been given a sword of his own; his previous practice sword had been from the common store.

Thrilled, he drew the sword and gazed in awe at its blade. Forged by the famous Telchar, the same smith that had made Angrist, the knife that cut the Silmaril from Morgoth’s Iron Crown! And Maedhros had guessed aright; the way the sword instantly felt like a better fit for his grip and his sword arm than any he had wielded before. He tried out some practice moves where he stood. Elros was in love.

Maedhros picked up a birch broom, slipped neatly past Elros’s guard and tapped him on the shoulder with the twiggy end, drawing Elros’s attention back to him.

‘The work of a master craftsman should be respected!’ he said, ‘But, mind you, it is not an heirloom.’

Elros blinked, puzzled. How could the sword not be an heirloom, with its storied history?

‘You need to be able to lay it aside or give it away.’

Elros understood. Reduced to near-destitution by the ineluctable claim to that one set of heirlooms, the last Sons of Feanor had come to value possessions the more if no claim attached to them.

‘By the way,’ said Maedhros, as if it was an afterthought, ‘it was intended to be called Narsil.’

From a letter by Queen Inzilbeth in Armenelos to her mother Lindorie of Andunie, originally in cipher.

In a chest in a forgotten recess in the Treasury I found an ancient sword carefully put aside and in perfect condition. A scrap of writing with it and comparison with records elsewhere has led me to conclude that this must be the sword our forefather Tar-Minyatur wielded before he took up Aranruth, given to him by the Sons of Feanor. I do not know why this historic weapon was almost hidden in this way, when Aranruth and Dramborleg are displayed proudly in glass cases in the centre of the main hall. Perhaps the association with the Sons of Feanor seemed politically less opportune than the sword of Thingol that the survivors of Sirion had saved for the return of Elwing’s sons?

In any case, I resolved to seize the chance the situation offered me. There is no risk now that Narsil will be wielded by the King’s Men against the Faithful, ever. I managed to take it to Noirinan, hidden inside one of the hooped skirts that are so fashionable this season. I can hardly be said to have stolen it, since I was taking it back to its original bearer! But I am also letting you know that Narsil is concealed inside Tar-Minyatur’s sarcophagus—please pass on that knowledge to our cousins of Andunie as you see fit.

[klunkcat]

50 VAGUE ANGSTY + HURT/COMFORT DIALOGUE PROMPTS

7. "Did they hurt you?" gio + author's choice :3c

This is foul, just want to say! Not my fault!!!

Gioverse can be found here - this is n!mikey centered because its me <3

His first mistake, in a long line of many, was assuming he could leave for a few hours.

Gio had mentioned in the start-stop way of his that meant more half hedging implications of noticing something than ever an outright statement, that he’d never had broccoli and cheddar cheese soup before. This was, of course, a sin that Mikey had no choice but to right as soon as possible. He’d thought he could be in an out in thirty minutes, maybe an hour tops. Swing by April’s place after giving her a call, pick up the ingredients and head back. Easy peasy. 

He and Gio had really started to crack into his recipe book lately, and the thought was a syrupy sweet palpitation in his chest. Adding one more warm thing to the repertoire of lessons he was bundling the kid in seemed like a wonderful opportunity. 

Except, of course, he’d left Gio alone with them. 

It had been a long minute since Donnie had willingly left his lab, in his defense. More often than not Mikey had to brave the mess of cold wires and empty metal to try and bring dinner to his brother that he knew in his heart of hearts would be forgotten. And Raph rarely stayed in the Lair long enough to do anything other than sleep. He hadn’t thought— well, there was the crux of it. He hadn’t thought at all. 

Returning through the front door with bags of broccoli and the fancy kind of cheddar, he’d been thinking of warmth. Of getting that rare shy smile of Gio’s to shine through once again, just for the two of them. He’d been thinking of kitchen lights and music bouncing off walls, and not at all of the echoes or the empty rooms around them. 

“ – if you think, for one second that he’d– “

“That’s the problem!” Raph’s voice thunders. Mikey’s heart takes a sharp twist and tumbles straight down to the stone floor. “I don’t know anymore. You don’t either! Just— can we stop pretending?” 

A sharp, icy scoff. “Isn’t that what you’re best at, brother of mine? Or is that just Mikey. Should we ask him?”

“Don’t,” Raph growls back. 

“Or what! You’re not even here. Am I the only one who can’t do this? This thing where we act like we can make anything better just because he’s here—” Donnie’s voice pitches up, practically a roar by the end splintering off into a thousand barbs Mikey knew he’d wrap himself in the second that he could. But where is Gio? 

There’s a crash.

The bags fall from his hands to the floor. He takes in the fact Gio’s bedroom door is open, that the lights in the living room are on and— 

It’s all noise and color. Mikey barrelling through, skidding to a stop and registering just enough to note Raph’s balled fists, Donnie’s sharp glare, and Gio, standing just behind the couch, surrounded by shards of glass. Gio’s wide eyes, looking between his brother’s and over at Mikey like he isn’t sure there was anywhere left in the world for him to go. 

No one moves except for him.

He falls to his knees instantly, scooping Gio’s face in his shaking hands. “Are you— did they hurt you? Show me your hands, buddy, okay? I’ll check, I’ll make it better, you’re safe I promise, I—” 

Gio blinks, lets Mikey fuss and turn his hands all over, placating and malleable. There’s a tiny scrape on his knee that looks old, no cuts or nicks on his hands. No red or purple rising on his dark skin. Mikey closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against Gio’s for a shaky breath. 

He feels Gio’s hands reach up and press against his palms. “I’m okay,” he whispers after a moment, voice small and trying not to shake in the way that made his voice flatter. Younger. 

It doesn’t stop him from being terrified, because Gio had grown up somewhere Mikey didn’t know, where pinches and slaps had been handed out as easily as words. And it had taken Mikey all these hard months just to get the kid to stop scanning for exits in every room they stood in, and his brother’s had been yelling.

The thought slows, grinds to a halt. His brother’s had been yelling. About him. 

He makes himself lean back. Glances over at the rest of the room. 

Raph’s face is hollowed out. A complete study in guilt, one hand reaching forward almost unthinkingly. Like the smallest shard of an old Raphie had flickered through for a microsecond before vanishing on both of them. And Donnie– 

“We didn’t know he was here.” Don says, flat as ever. 

Mikey frowns, pulling Gio more firmly into his side. “That doesn’t make it okay.” 

There’s something strange to Donnie’s expression. Guilt? It can’t be. The loss of his twin had warped him so thoroughly that Mikey could never manage to fully understand, and he knows that this Donnie is a facsimile more often than his own person, but he’d thought… It isn’t a kind thought. It isn’t a thought he’s allowed to have anymore. 

“Mikey—” Raph tries, and some of the simmering anger Mikey makes sure he doesn’t have rises up between his breaths. 

“Don’t Mikey me. You were yelling about—” his voice catches, he makes it hold. “About me, right? You think I’m playing pretend. That I don’t know how bad we are.” He remembers that Gio’s here and holds onto the reminder like a buoy in the midst of all this disappointment and hurt, and the things they never say out loud anymore trying valiantly to fight their way through. “I’m not a stupid kid anymore, of course I know!” I know more than you, I know a thousand other worlds more than you, how badly we’re broken, I’ve seen them. 

His hurt crashes against him. “Of course I’m angry! I’m tired, and it’s so hard to try but I can do it  even if you can’t, and I am trying, so just. Stay the hell away and leave Gio out of this!” 

Raph’s face twists, his good eye dropping to the floor. “We thought. I thought he was with you. We wouldn’t hurt him.”

Gio’s warm and still bendable with his need to appease at Mikey’s side. It grounds him in all the same ways it makes all of this so much worse. Wouldn’t hurt him, except they’d yell and glare and avoid, right? Wouldn’t hurt him except that they didn’t know Gio thought he didn’t belong in the one place he should always feel safe. That he thought they hated him.

He opens his mouth, some boiling betrayal burning on his lips— 

“It’s my fault.” Donnie cuts in, still blank and stiff and sharp the way he always is, now. The admission is a tiny miracle nonetheless, and Mikey’s anger dies a quiet heat death in the center of himself. He doesn’t miss the tiny lurch in Gio’s breathing at his side, though. 

No one says anything for a long, horrid moment. Donnie looking straight through Mikey like he’s alone on a dying star; and it aches– it aches all the way through to know it’s an untouchable chill Mikey can’t ever break through even when he tries, and it’s worse to think that he’s used to it, but it’s familiar all the same. Don turns his head, hands flat at his side. 

“I’m the one who can’t do this.” Love right, he means. He doesn’t mean he can’t at all. 

Mikey pulls Gio closer, like he can shield him from the misunderstanding he knows will reach the kid anyways. He feels the words hit Gio, wash over him as Donnie leaves with a hiss of his lab door clicking firmly into place. 

He doesn’t mean it, Mikey thinks of saying helplessly. Except Donnie does mean everything he says, it just exists in stone blocks and hard data now and none of the softness has anywhere to stay. 

Raph watches Donnie leave, and lets out a long sigh. He rubs a hand over his face, and ages rapidly in a thousand eye bag lines all at once. “I’m sorry, kid,” Raph mumbles. Mikey’s not sure if he means Gio. He hasn’t been Raph’s kid in a long time. 

“It’s okay,” Gio says, stiff and quiet. Raph nods to himself, eye gazing emptily at anything but them, and shuffles himself off to his room. 

It’s them, again, like always. Mikey hates the fact he’s relieved enough to let himself untense— that his brother’s could ever exist in the same sentence as danger. It hurts to realize that his instincts have been wired backwards and inverted like this, in this reality Mikey couldn’t save anything from. 

He lets Gio go with a puff of breath and forces himself to stand, tries to find the strength in himself not to cry. There’s a light in him somewhere, still, but it’s different, too. 

Maybe he has been playing pretend in a type of way. Acting like he hadn’t changed as much as everyone else, too. 

Gio’s hand touches his, briefly. “Your knees.” 

He blinks. Oh. There’s blood, patches of it on the floor in between the glittering bits of glass. For a moment he worries that he had missed something after all, that Gio had been hurt— Gio stares nervously at Mikey’s legs where he’d crashed to his knees. 

There’s bloody tears in his pant legs. He doesn’t even feel it.

“Oops,” Mikey tries to laugh. It comes out wavering and pathetic. Gio bites his lip–  isn’t that a thought. All the yelling and the anger and the sheer brokenness of their family, and Gio looks like he might actually cry just over some scrapes from Mikey being stupid. He loves this kid so much it balloons right through him constantly in endlessly shocking ways. 

I’m sorry, Mikey thinks. He’s always sorry these days. “Let me get cleaned up, okay? Then, um. How about a new recipe? Think you’ll love it.” 

Gio looks like he wants to say something, closes his mouth instead. Smiles that tiny way Mikey would burn the world down for, instead. 

Maybe they’re both pretending, really. Maybe that’s all they can do. 

___

Gio grew up cold, it’s an inescapable reality he’s forged his understanding of the world around. There’s a bone deep chill that resides within most places, rooms for things that aren’t to be kept, and stern words meant to correct in straight neat lines. There’s no space for anything else. That’s the reality, kid. 

He’d spent most his life adapting, quick as he could to make the next deadline or the next drop. Make sure he was useful but not too important to be seen, to keep the jobs coming and food for the next day available. 

There was a point A to a point B, a quickest route forward. That’s all he needed. 

When Mikey found him a lot of that had been subsequently shaken apart. A lot of things suddenly meant staying, and promises, and bright room lights that held. Suddenly, food was fun and a given, and could be asked for, and there were laughs bubbling up and bouncing back to him, and warm hands against his cheeks asking ‘are you okay’ just to know. To check. 

He knew what being warm was because he knew the cold. He considered this a gift. 

There isn’t a single atom of himself that doesn’t ache with a deep homesickness he’s not sure he’s allowed to have every second that his Mikey is lost somewhere unreachable, but he is grateful. As much as he loves his family now, and their bright silly constant thrum of life everywhere he goes, he wouldn’t ever have chosen differently. 

If he was cold for nineteen years, it was so his big brother could burn bigger in comparison. 

His family now has plenty of warmth all on their own, but he tries to burn the same way for them all the same.

It’s funny, sometimes; his stomach twists with a fond ache that’s equal parts grief and absolute relief all in one that ties his words up somewhere else he can’t touch, but he misses his Mikey in the same way he loves this one. He wonders if Mikey knows how bright he is, that it’s the bravest thing he’s ever known. He’s also so small, here. Breakable in all the ways he bounces. It’s absolutely terrifying. 

Gio had been fighting in back alley scrapes and life or death battles since he was ten, but that doesn’t mean his little brother should. 

“Did they hurt you?” He asks, scanning absolutely every inch of Mikey’s arms and face he can see. He presses carefully at his sides, where the hard shell and plastron give way to more tender spaces. Mikey giggles instead of flinching, thank god. 

“Gogo~” Mikey complains, laughter bright on his cheeks. “I’ve been in bigger fights last week.” 

“You got thrown through a wall.” 

Mikey waves a hand. “Like, a little.” 

“No, he’s right,” Leo leans over Gio’s shoulder. “That sounded pretty rough. Anything dislocated?”

Gio hates the idea abruptly that any of them know what dislocation feels like, or that it’s regular enough it wouldn’t be obvious. 

“I’m fine, really! I pinky promise double swear.” 

Leo purses his lips. “With sprinkles on top?”  

Raph’s worry sensors must ping at the commotion, because Gio can hear him abruptly switching to Mikey fussing mode from the other room. Mikey’s expression darkens, Gio switches tactics. 

“You’re okay,” he decrees, with a tiny nod. “Soup will fix it.” 

Leo’s muffled snort is worth it for the way Mikey’s eyes light up. 

“Oh! I have broccoli I’ve been meaning to use.” He immediately jumps up, luckily confirming he is in fact just fine in the same motion, and instinctively puts both hands on Gio’s cheeks with excitement. “Oh mama, you have no idea what can of worms you’ve just unleashed. I’m going to make so much soup. How about a new recipe? I think you’ll love it.” 

Gio’s heart does something funny. 

“I’m sure I will,” he smiles back. Warm enough for all of them.

[itsthestutterforme]

Touch Starved (Best!Friend!Ari x black!reader)

Summary: It’s been a year since your boyfriend, Steve, passed away. You chose to stay celibate ever since his passing, and you’ve accepted the fact you were touch starved. But when there’s a lesson on it in your psychology class, you learned more about yourself than you realized. You learned a little bit about your best friend, Ari, too.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, sexual themes (oral sex, shower sex, allusions to sex, overstimulation, touch starvation), MINORS DNI!!

**

Folding your arm at an awkward angle, you rested your chin on the back of your forearm as wrote your notes with your IPad stylus for your PSY 101 class.

“That can’t possibly be comfortable,” your best friend Ari stated, looking at you as if you grew two heads.

“First of all, fix your face.” You gave him a side eye before you continued writing.

“And secondly?” He sparks.

“And secondly- it is very comfortable.”

The professor continued, “Touch starvation. While it is a prognosis disclaimed from medicine, there is trace evidence of its existence. In most cases, it initiates from a long duration of abstinence. In some cases, it can be as short as six months.”

Ari glances over at you calmly writing your notes, hoping that he isn’t somehow giving himself away. He hasn’t been with anyone for the past seven months.

He didn’t find a point. No one could distract him from the fact that he was in love with you.

The boys in his frat thinks he spends the weekend hooking up with random chicks in his classes.

When really, he spends his weekends binge watching Love Island and doing spa days with you.

He would never live it down if his frat brother knew. But truthfully, he could care less if they find out.

“Touch Starvation tests the fine line between desperation and overstimulation. When you’re touch starved, it drives you to become desperate for human touch and connection,”

Ari noticed you stopped writing and looked up at the professor as he continued. Your slowed blinking tells Ari that you were dissociating.

“But if a connection is a second too long, it overstimulates your sense pushing you to escape. Which still doesn’t change one fact: you still want that connection. It truly does push your psyche to its breaking point, which segways into tonight’s homework,”

Ari touches your hand gingerly, snapping you out of your thoughts. He takes note that you don’t move your hand away from his.

“Are you alright?” He questions.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.. did you write the homework down?”

“It’s right here,” he pushes his agenda towards you so you could write down the homework assignment.

A writing prompt entailing which areas you are touch starved.

Just perfect, you thought to yourself.

Ari waits patiently for you to start packing up first before he did. You bit your lip as you slid your iPad into your backpack, a tell sign that you were overthinking.

He lets you in front of him as the two of you wait in line to leave the classroom.

The two of you didn’t talk much the entire five minutes it took to get to your dorm room.

“Okay, spill.” Ari states, tossing his backpack on the ground and flipping your chair backwards to sit down in one fluid motion.

“There’s nothing to spill,” you said, still biting your lip as you attempted to take your IPad from your backpack.

Standing from the chair, he took your backpack from your hands and set it on the ground.

“You know you can at least try to make it sound convincing,” He retorts, crossing his massive arms across his chest.

“Do you think you’re touch starved?” He asked after a few moments of silence, causing you to sigh.

“I know I am. But it’s my choice to be this way.” You sat on your bed, folding your hands in your lap.

“Your choice?” Ari repeats as he joins you on the bed.

“I know I’m never going to find a love like I had with Steve. I’m lucky to even experience a love like that in the first place. Men like you and Steve are rare. Believing that I’ll find something like that again is just setting myself up for disappointment.”

“What, so you’re just going to give up on finding love?” He wanted to kick himself for getting riled up.

“Honestly? Yeah, I have.” You start, Ari’s heart clenches in his chest.

Maybe he didn’t have a chance after all.

“It‘s not necessarily a bad thing. Being single seems to be the end of the world for some people. But for me, it’s liberating.”

“It’s not liberating if you’re touch starved though, right?” Ari says cautiously.

“It’s better than hopping from relationship to relationship, trying to fill a void that I know I won’t fill.” You said with a sigh, leaning your back agains the bed.

Ari lays down next to you with a sigh of his own. “Can I.. tell you something?” You hesitate, turning your head to face him.

“Anything,”

“Every night, I would hold my face the way Steve used to. It helps me fall asleep.”

“How did Steve used to hold your face?”

You sat up and looked at him a moment. You weren’t sure what you were waiting for, you guess you to see if he was joking or not.

He slowly sits up, waiting for you to say something. Say anything.

When you don’t, he says, “You don’t have to. Sorry I-“

You lifted your hand and gently pressed your palm to the side of Ari’s face, his beard felt soft against your skin.

Caressing the apple of his cheek, Ari wanted to shut his eyes and relish in the feeling of this intimate moment.

But his eyes remained set on you. Adjusting your hand on his face, a breath hitched in his throat when you moved closer to cradle the other side of his face in your hands.

You let out a shaky sigh when you gently ghost your thumb over his smooth lips.

“That’s how he used to hold me.”

You had to pull away. You needed to. But you couldn’t. And neither could Ari.

“I.. need to tell you something, Y/N/N.” He starts, pulling your hands away from his face and taking them into his warm hands.

But before he could say anything else, the door jiggled. Something that your roommate did to give you a warning before barging in.

Although you told her you had no interest in bringing a guy home, she still did it.

You suppose this time, you appreciated it. Jumping up from the bed, you brushed a few curls out of your face.

Unable to meet his gaze, you grabbed your backpack from the floor and scrambled to look as normal as possible.

Ari took your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His soft gaze made your heart skip a beat.

“We should have a talk,”

“We should,” you agreed.

**

“You feeling okay?” Ari questions when he walks into your dorm room shirtless with his black sweatpants hanging low on his waist, his V line peeking from his waist band.

You heard a few girls giggling in the hall but Ari didn’t pay them any mind. “Hey, Ari. There’s a-“

“Not interested,” Ari closes the door before they had a chance to get closer.

You pressed your lips together to hold back your smirk. You had no idea why you were smirking in the first place.

“Y/N,” “Hm?” “I said were you feeling okay?” Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you see Ari removing his towel from his shoulder and exposing his bare chest.

“Uh, yeah I’m fine. Help me pick a movie, Aladdin or Princess and the Frog?” You said, changing the subject.

“Princess and the Frog,” he determines, climbing into bed with you. You pressed play on the movie and sat up against the window sill.

“You know they were probably going to invite you to a party,” “I don’t care about parties,” he said with a sigh, cocking his head as he sat up on his elbow.

“You’re in a fraternity. You’re supposed to care about parties,” “Fraternities are over rated,”

“Then why did you even join one?” “I thought it would add enough charisma to get you to fall in love with me,”

You thought he was serious at first but when he cracked a smile, you rolled your eyes at his antics.

“You’re such a dick,” you said, shoving his shoulder. The A/C unit on the ceiling kicks on and blows consistently cold air directly onto of you.

You slide under the covers and Ari wrapped an arm around you, pulling your body directly into his chest.

You sucked in a breath when his hand finds your stomach. His warmth radiating off of him felt like a furnace.

The movie continued to play and neither of you said anything. This wasn’t the first time he’s come over and held you.

The two of you came to an agreement a week ago and now, every day after his rugby practice, Ari came over.

But you couldn’t help your heart racing in your chest. Especially since you could feel Ari looking at you as you watched the movie.

“How long are we going to pretend there’s nothing here?” Ari finally questions and you slowly stir in his arms.

You didn’t miss his gaze flicker from your eyes down to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“I’m not pretending,”

You’re lying through your teeth, and he knows that. “Oh yeah? Then why is your heart racing?”

“Because of that,” you stated, motioning to his shirtless glory. “And why would this make you nervous unless you were attracted to it?”

“God, would you stop asking valid questions, please?” Ari chuckles at your nervousness, causing you to huff.

“This isn’t funny,” you added softly, covering your face as you lay back down on the bed.

He pulls your hands away from your face and took your face into his hands.

He rested his forehead against yours and waited for you to exhibit anything that showed him you didn’t want this.

He was surprised when you closed the gap between you and pressed your lips to his.

He tangles his fingers into your hair to pull you closer and you gasped when he nipped at your bottom lip, giving his tongue access.

He brings one of his hands away from your face and gripped the edge of your bed.

Your lips fell into sync with his, you could still taste the toothpaste from when he brushed his teeth moments before.

You find yourself pulling away from him a moment and his eyes searched yours. “I-I’m.. Do you want me to leave?”

His eyes darken when your hands trailed up his arms and down his toned back muscles.

“No, I don’t want you to leave.” “What do you want* me to do?”

“What do you want to do?”

He looked at you for a few seconds before looking down at your waist. He looked back up at you, asking a silent question.

“Are you.. asking if you can eat me out?”

“Yes,” he lets out a breath.

“Is that something you think about often?” “I think about it every day, yes.”

“Every day?”

“Please,”

Is he begging right now?

“Okay,” you lifted your hips up and pulled your shorts down your legs. You moved to take off your panties but he stopped you.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You nodded and he parted your legs, sliding between them.

He gripped your chin and pressed a long kiss on your lips, gasping into your mouth when you scratched down his back.

“You keep doing that and I won’t be able to contain myself.” So you did it again, harder this time.

Before he could stop himself, he wrapped his hand around your throat and pulled you close so you were nose to nose.

“Sorry,” you gasped out, wetness stained through your panties. He taps your cheek with his index finger as a warning before pulling away and leveling himself with your core.

Looking to you one last time, you nod and he pulls them down your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room.

He kisses the swell of your thighs, propping your legs over his shoulders before he flattens his tongue between your folds.

He laps at your clit each time he licks up your stripe. Your legs were already starting to shake as you quickly neared your orgasm.

It was to be expected, considering you didn’t have sex for over a year. But it was still embarrassing nonetheless.

You clenched your stomach muscles as an attempted to hold back your orgasm and closed your legs around his head.

He groans in annoyance, spreading your legs all the way and roughly suck at your clit until you were convulsing.

“Ari,” you whimpered, pushing at his head when he continued to lap up your juices once you’ve came down from your orgasm.

He pulls away from you, finally giving you a chance to breathe. Sitting up on his knees, he watches your chest move with deep heaves and his gaze fell back to your pussy.

And suddenly he felt the impulse to go back down.

Readjusting himself in his sweatpants, he licks his lips to reminisce your taste.

“You okay?” He questions.

“I can’t believe I came that fast,” you said, looking up at the ceiling.

“I mean, that’s normal considering.” He responds.

His voice was an octave lower than usual and it made a gush of wetness made its way down your thighs.

Your body was responsive. Responsive to him. And Ari loved every bit of that.

**

“Dude where have you been?” Trent asks, sitting down next to Ari in the dining hall.

“I’ve been at practice dude,” “And what? They have overnight practices now?” Trent prods.

When Ari doesn’t respond, Trent huffs and rolls his eyes. “Whatever dude. There’s a meeting tonight at 6:30, and if you’re not there, Sam will have your ass.”

“I’ll be there. Relax, man.” Ari states, pretending to read a textbook he had open when he was really watching some guy come up to you at the salad bar.

Once Trent leaves, Ari goes back to watching the entire interaction.

“Hey, you’re one of the supervisors for the training center, right?” The man asks, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I am.”

You picked up a bowl and used the prong to put lettuce on the bottom.

“Alright, so I’m failing CHEM 212. A buddy of mine said that you helped bump his grade up like 10 points. So I was wondering if you could do the same for me.” He explained, taking a step closer to you which made Ari’s eyes narrow.

“Oh, I don’t tutor anymore. I’m a supervisor now, so I just oversee the tutors that currently work at the center. I can make a suggestion, if you want.”

“No, I don’t want a suggestion. I want you.”

Once Ari sees you take a step back from the man, he jumps from his seat and weaves through the tables until he reached you.

When he got close enough to you, he heard the man say, “Look, why can’t you just make an exception and tutor me?”

“Because she made it clear that she didn’t want to. No means no, dick.” Ari says from behind you.

“What the fuck did you just say?” The man says.

You use the counter top to stabilize yourself. You’re not sure how you’re walking around right now. Not after Ari had his way with you in the shower, not caring if anyone could walk in.

Only to carry you back to your dorm and flipped you over so he could eat it from the back. All before your PSY 101 class.

“You heard what I said the first time,” Ari closes the gap between him and the guy.

He waits until they were chest to chest.

“That’s my girlfriend. Show some fucking respect.” He adds.

“My bad bro, I really need to pass the semester.”

“You should have thought about that before you were an asshole,” Ari states, taking your hand into his and walking the two of you back to the table.

“What?” Ari says when he catches you looking at him once the two of you sat down.

“You called me your girlfriend,” you said, popping a cherry tomato in your mouth.

“Let’s be honest, sweetheart. You became my girlfriend the minute l found out how you tasted,” he eyes you as he takes a swig of his Coke.

He didn’t miss the way you pressed your legs together when he licks his lips after sipping his drink.

He leans closely to ask, “Did you want to take the salad to go?”

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 4

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: Ready for a riding lesson? 😏

Song Inspo: “Sunshine on My Shoulders” by John Denver

Word Count: 6K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, and a cliffhanger...

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 4: A Past & Future Thing

You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.

You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck. 

Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”

You shot him a narrowed look. He was sitting all calm and natural on his own horse, a chestnut brown beauty of a stud. Apparently, his name was Clyde. You were riding his brother Dale, who was supposed to be the older, gentler of the two.

Beau was right next to you, since he was the one holding the reins. You two were still just a little way off from the stable as he guided your horse with his, letting you just get a feel for the ride.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that animals can sense our vibes,” he said, giving you a look that tipped his Stetson forward. “So if you just take a few deep breaths, I promise you, it’ll get easier.”

You met Beau’s gaze. You didn’t know if it was the smooth, steady tone of his voice or the sincerity in his eyes, but you did as he advised. You made the effort of exhaling slowly, and you began to relax.

“Okay,” he nodded with a smile. Then he gestured ahead. “Now, look forward for me. Try not to look at his hooves, though I know they’re pretty.”

He teased a smile out of you as you did what he said, casting your gaze up ahead to the horizon. It was a beautiful day. A wide expanse of terrain laid out ahead of you, with green grass mottled with some brown, and a weather-beaten trail clearly carved by horses and lessons given.  

“And like I told you,” he added, “Try not to squeeze so hard with your legs, or he’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.” 

You blushed, and relaxed your thighs enough so you were just supporting yourself on the horse, not giving yourself a leg cramp. 

“Okay, I think you’re ready for me to let go. Wanna keep going on your own?” Beau suggested. 

You were wary, but you tentatively nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“Are you sure?” Beau asked. Again, his eyes met yours. “I’ll keep guiding you the whole way if you want. Either way, I’ve gotcha.”

You swallowed down a bit of nerves. “Yeah?”

He smiled, and you noticed how it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Trust me,” he said. “You’re not gonna fall on my watch.”

Warmth coiled its way around your heart. You let out another deep breath, and you agreed to have him hand over the reins to you. You were nervous at first, but Beau reminded you of how to guide Dale with subtle movements.

The old horse plodded forward without incident. When you gave Beau a triumphant look, that answering grin of his warmed you down to your toes. The two of you rode together more as companions while making your way across the grassy plain.

“So of all the things, why’d you wanna learn to ride a horse?” Beau asked.

“Because it terrified me,” you replied honestly. “I love animals, don’t get me wrong. Riding one though? They’re unpredictable…but I’m also tired of being afraid of what I can’t control.”

Beau nodded. He could certainly understand that.

Together, you traveled up a roaming hill. Once you reached the peak, you marveled at the view. The afternoon sun was bright and golden above the mountains and the distant line of trees.

Meanwhile, Beau glanced at you. You’d gotten more confident and comfortable in what you were doing, and it was endearing to see. You were cute, he could admit. Beautiful, as a matter of fact. You had the sun shining in your eyes, and on your hair getting tousled by the chilly breeze.

You also seemed to have a kind heart. He’d seen it in just how hard your friend’s death had hit you. He saw it again when he helped you move into your apartment. He saw the joy you took in cooking dinner for all of them after a long-ass day, even though you could’ve just ordered a pizza.

It was the little things, he thought, and the more he saw of you, the more he liked.

That thought also made his heart twinge, and not in a good way. Carla reared up in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure if it was more with annoyance or guilt at this point, but she’d moved on a hell of a long time before he had anyway. (Beau could admit that point, just to himself.)

It just made him wonder what he was doing here with you. Was it just because he knew you were having a hard time, and he wanted to cheer you up? Was it because you were Denise’s family? Or was it because…he just wanted to see more of you?

“You don’t get this view in the city, huh?” Beau asked. 

“You do not,” you replied. Your smile grew, making his do the same without him realizing.

Inside though, he wanted to shake his head at himself. You were a bit younger than him. Maybe not by all that much, in the grand scheme of things, but he was in his mid-forties, divorced with a sixteen-year-old daughter, and a somewhat unpredictable, occasionally dangerous job. At this point, he wouldn’t exactly consider himself a catch.

You were also dealing with a complicated past of your own. You’d been through a lot, especially in the past couple of weeks.

And yet, Cassie’s probing questions circled through his mind, invading his thoughts every time he found himself looking your way. 

Your face slowly dimmed. “Next week is Mary’s funeral. I’m going back home for a few days.”

Beau processed that with a nod, but he could guess why you looked worried. 

“And your ex?” he asked.

“He’s going to be there for sure. We were all close.” A deep breath rushed out of you. You peeled your eyes away from the view and looked over at him. “God help me, I don’t want to go home…does that make me a bad person?”

“Nah, I get it,” he said. He regarded you with more weight in his gaze. “But this guy. Is he the aggressive type?”

“No,” you assured. Then more wryly, “He’s only dangerous to my mental health.”

You contemplated that reality for a moment, and you shook your head.

“You know how I found out about what he was doing?” you asked. “He sent me a Happy Birthday text…a spicy one, you could say. But it wasn’t my birthday.” 

“Damn,” Beau said, grimacing in sympathy. 

You tried not to, but you began tearing up. Beau wanted to brush them from your cheek as he drew closer on his horse. Instead, he settled a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said, quiet and placating. “I’m thinking you’ve cried enough over this.”

“I just…I still feel so damn stupid,” you muttered, wiping under your eyes.  

“What, are you a Professor of Cheatin’ Bastards too?” Beau quipped. You smiled reluctantly.

“That’s not funny,” you complained. 

He flashed you a grin and allowed himself to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear when a breeze of wind blew it into your face.

“Come on. You know I’m funny,” he teased, but then, he became more serious. “It’s not your fault. Trust me, I know something about being the problem, and it’s not on you.”

Both your interest and concern were piqued.

“You and Carla?” you asked. “You’re telling me it was all on you?”

“Well, maybe not all. But like you, my ex-wife ain’t a fool,” Beau said. His eyes lowered, along with his hand from your arm. “Let’s just say, it was justified.”

Let’s just say, you contemplated. That seemed to be his favorite catchphrase.

You didn’t know if you altogether believed that. He was going to grief counseling for a reason. You wanted to ask why, more than anything, but you also didn’t want to press him on something if he didn’t want to talk about it. If he felt comfortable enough with you, someday, maybe he’d open up to you. 

So after a few minutes of savoring the view, and the moment, you returned to town together.

A few days later, Beau still had a bad feeling about Avery.

His company was being investigated by the SEC and was threatening to go under. Apparently, Avery had made “friends” with Luke on the trip, who according to Avery, let it slip that he and Paige had $15 million in cryptocurrency.

The passcode to that $15 million account was missing. Beau had more than half a mind to think Avery had made a play for it during that camping trip. Carla hadn’t known her new husband’s company was being investigated. She’d put her foot down with Avery about the lying, at least.

As a result, Beau’s only consolation in all this was that she and Emily were back in their house, while Avery was living out of a hotel in town. Beau might not be able to pin him for the stolen crypto right now, but he knew where to look for Avery when the evidence came.

The man was #1 on Beau’s punch list, and it was only getting longer.

Instead of letting those thoughts fester, he decided to actually take his lunch break, and go check in on his daughter. Denise and Cassie told him she was doing well as their summer intern.

Emily seemed to be enjoying her time helping the private investigators. She showed him her small workstation beside Denise’s desk, where she was organizing old and new files, inputting the hard copies into digital ones on Cassie’s spare laptop. Emily was also helping out with some database research on existing cases.

Satisfied that she was helping out, but wasn’t doing anything too close to actual police work, Beau took the opportunity to lean over to Denise and discreetly ask about you.

Namely, how you were doing, and if you’d called her from Chicago. He managed to hold himself from asking when you were coming back to Montana, at least.

Denise still gave him a certain smile.

“Yeah, she called yesterday. She’s coming back today actually,” she replied. “I’m planning to pick her up in a few hours.”

Beau’s lips twitched at a smile, and he nodded. “Good. That’s uh…that’s good. Tell her I said ‘welcome home.’”

Denise and Cassie shared a look, one that drew even Emily’s attention. She shot her dad a glance and noted the dumb smile on his face. One that he tucked away when he met Emily’s gaze.

“Anyway, looks like you’re doing all right here. You’re coming to stay with me tomorrow, right?” he asked her.

“Yeah, sure,” Emily agreed.

“Okay, kiddo. See ya then,” Beau said. He gave her a hug and kiss to the side of the head. Though she gave him a hug back, she watched with a bit of suspicion after he said goodbye to Cassie and Denise, strolling out the door like he was making some kind of escape.

The adults again shared a look of mutual understanding. Then Cassie smiled and grabbed her work bag.

“All right. I’ll be back in a bit. Need to check on a few leads,” she said.

After Emily and Denise waved her off, the latter made some tea and returned with a mug each for her and Emily. Denise reclaimed the seat behind her desk, but she turned towards the girl beside her.

“So, hun, how’re you doing?” Denise asked. “I mean, I know you’ve gone through a lot these past couple weeks, and we’re happy to give you a little distraction here. But are you okay?”

Emily bit her lip and turned her rolling chair towards Denise. She had to take some time with her answer. Ever since coming back from that camp, she didn’t know if she’d really answered that question honestly—not for her mom, or her dad.

“Well, on one hand, Mom kicked Avery out. Or, I guess he kicked himself out,” she said. “On the other hand, my mom and dad are getting along better than they have since before the divorce, so…there’s that.”

Emily rested her elbow on the desk in front of her, head in hand. Denise gave her a sympathetic half-smile.

“I don’t hate Avery,” Emily admitted. “I actually like him a lot. He made Mom happy again. But would it be nice if she and my dad…if we could be a family again? I mean, yeah.”

Denise was patient as she listened. She tried to keep her true thoughts on the matter inside as you came to mind, though she pushed all that into the background in order to give Emily her undivided attention. 

“At the same time, I don’t know,” Emily shrugged. “My dad’s a great person, but he’s not good at letting people in. I don’t think Mom could go through that again.”

“Go through what?” Denise asked. 

“The way my dad shut us out, after what happened to his partner,” Emily explained. Her face went from slightly sad, to wry. “Okay, yeah, my mom’s not the most patient person. But Dad still doesn’t talk about it, not even to Mom. Or to me.”

Denise had heard some small thing about Beau’s former partner from you, and even Jenny, but she didn’t know the specifics there. All she knew was it laid at the heart of Beau and Carla’s divorce.

“Well, he’s your dad,” Denise said with a sigh. “He wants to protect you, even if that means protecting you from himself.”

“Sure, okay, but he doesn’t have to though. Not all the time,” Emily said.

She could be a strong, even-keeled kid, mature for her age, but Denise saw the rare vulnerability in the girl’s eyes.

“Sometimes I wish he’d just talk to me,” Emily said. Her eyes fell away.

Denise’s heart broke for the girl. Not knowing what else to say, she scooched her chair forward and pulled Emily into a warm hug.

By the time Denise picked you up from the airport and dropped you off at your apartment, you were beyond exhaustion. Coming home from a week in your hometown in Chicago left you feeling drained. Physically, emotionally, down to your toes.

At least you were home.

It was a surprising feeling—the feeling that this was your home now. Already it felt real.

Seeing your ex will do that to you.

“So how was it?” Denise asked. She’d graciously made you dinner as well, so you didn’t have to cook or worry about eating out. You two sat on the couch in your living room while some romcom played in the background.

“Everything I thought it would be,” you replied, around a mouthful of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. You let out a heavy sigh.

It had been good to see your parents, you explained, and you’d finally been able to give your condolences to Mary’s parents in person—at the funeral.

That’s where Michael tried to corner you to hash out what would’ve been yet another argument, at the burial of all things. You had to restrain yourself from making a scene in front of Mary’s entire grieving family, as well as yours.

Denise shook her head. “That guy ain’t got an iota of shame.”

You snorted. “You’re telling me?!”

You shook your head and speared at your green beans with your fork. You couldn’t even mourn your friend in peace, for God’s sake.

“Did your parents try to get you to stay longer?” she asked.

Again, you scoffed. “Oh, yeah. They actually tried to use Mary’s death to get me to think Helena was more dangerous than Chicago.”

While you’d understood their point to an extent, your home city still maintained one of the worst crime rates in the U.S.

“Still think you made the right decision?” Denise asked. “Whatever’s in your heart about it, just know that I’m so happy to have you here.”

She took your free hand and squeezed. You managed to smile, if just a little.

“Yeah. I think so,” you replied.

Chicago would always have a place in your heart, but for better or worse, this was your new start. And you were taking it.

You woke up the next morning to a shiny new text message. Still bleary-eyed, you unlocked your phone, and you just had to smile.

It was from Beau Arlen, you were pleasantly surprised to find.

Hey there. Heard you were back in town. (Welcome home, by the way.) Just wanted to let you know that me, Cassie, and Jenny are hitting a bar tonight after shift. You’re welcome to join in. Say around 8?

Without even really thinking about it, you typed out your reply:

Sure! I’ll be there. (And thanks very much. It’s nice to know the county sheriff rolls out the welcome mat for all of Helena’s returning citizens.)

You got up and started your day. You were midway through brushing your teeth when your phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. Your lips curved into a smirk when you read Beau’s reply.

Sounds good. (And I’m happy to oblige. 😉)

You shouldn’t have been blushing at such a simple message, but it set off the butterflies regardless. You huffed and set down your toothbrush.

Damn it.

You were in trouble.

With such a nice start to your morning, you were smiling all the way into town. The place you were headed to was just down the street of Dewell & Hoyt, so you knew you had to stop in just to say hello. There you found Denise and Emily.

“Did you have a good trip?” Emily asked, after you let her go from a hug. You gave your aunt one next.

“It was…good,” you replied, with a sigh. “Mary’s at rest now.”

Your eyes stung at the thought, but you tried to blink past it, taking in a breath to steady yourself. While Denise rubbed your back, Emily squeezed your arm in comfort, leading you to give her a smile. She was a sweet girl.

“What brings you over?” Denise asked.

You shook your head to come back to yourself. You showed them the large bag you carried on your shoulder. It was full of your painting supplies.

“Well, I’m actually headed to an art studio just down the street. I looked up the lessons they were offering this week, and apparently today it’s painting on glass. Like a bowl, or a mug, or a little stained glass window. They’ve got different options.”

Emily looked intrigued. “Ooh, that sounds cool.”

“Yeah?” you said, raising a brow. “You’re welcome to come with me if you want. Unless my aunt can’t spare you, or you’d rather not. It’s fine.”

There was no pressure to your offer, but you remembered Emily being somewhat interested in your painting endeavors while on the camping trip. With everything the girl had been going through, you thought maybe she’d like something creative and fun to try to get her mind off things. You knew it was doing the same for you.

“No, that would be fun, I guess,” said Emily. She looked to Denise in askance, who waved a dismissive hand. 

“It’s okay, hun. Take the afternoon off,” she said. “I’ve got things here.”

Emily smiled and nodded.

“Okay. Let me just grab my stuff.”

You and Emily ventured together right down the street to the art studio. You paid for the $40 entrance fee each for you and Emily into the class.

You could see that she felt uncomfortable with that when you two took your seats near the back of the studio. It was pretty full, and neither of you wanted to be right at the front, preferring to hang out more chill-like in the back.

There at each long table was an easel each, after you chose what kind of glass you wanted to paint on. Emily chose a funky looking bowl, while you chose a rectangular piece of wood-framed glass.

“I’ll pay you back,” Emily said, once you two were comfortable in your respective seats. You waved her off.

“It’s okay, honey. I invited you,” you said. Then you gave her a conspiring look. “Here’s my rule of thumb, especially on dates, for example. The person who invites you should shell out.”

Emily smiled. “That makes sense to me.”

You saw the gears in her mind turning, and it reminded you of her little “summer project.” She’d told you about it a couple of times on that camping trip.

“How’s your podcast going?” you asked. The girl sighed; she chose a brush and started painting blue stripes across her glass bowl.

“Slow,” she admitted. “I’m lacking interesting subjects.”

You hummed at that. “Maybe you need a guest to help kick things off.”

Emily smiled at that. She turned to you with a gleam of excitement.

“Would you do it?” she asked.

Your mouth fell open in surprise. “Me? I think I’d be too boring. Isn’t your podcast about relationships?”

“Well, yeah, but that was a good bit you just had,” she said. “Who pays on a date?”

You thought about it with another hum of contemplation. Suddenly you could start to see the potential in her idea. You still didn’t want to be a subject of inquiry, but you didn’t want to dim her spark either.

“Well, it would be fun if you got a man’s perspective too,” you said.

Emily brightened. Finally, someone who cared about her side project. 

“What about Dad?” she said. “He’s a guy.”

You chuckled. “Well, yes.” 

Though you wondered about the last time he’d been on a date since his divorce, or if he even was dating right now. 

The more you thought about it, the more interesting it might be to see Beau answer some of those kinds of questions. It wasn’t at all because you were curious about the man yourself…

“Maybe you’re onto something there,” you said, a smile growing on your face.

“I’ll ask him,” Emily vowed. “Maybe he’ll actually open up for once.”

She sort of muttered that last bit. It caught your attention with a wry brow raise.

“What? Your dad is as chatty as they come,” you said. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, about dumb stuff,” she said. “Try to get anything serious out of him. He’s like an old clam.”

A snort of laughter escaped you. “Old clam. That’s nice.”

Though you saw that there was something deeper there for Emily. You’d seen these kinds of moments in some of your students before. Sometimes, they felt comfortable enough with you to share what they were going through at home. In Emily’s case, it seemed like she was hurting about something, maybe for a while now.

You continued painting on your glass project, but you offered her a look of understanding.

“Remember how I told you that my dad used to be a firefighter?” you said. Emily nodded.

“Well, your dad sounds a bit like mine. He’d rather consult a bottle of Jack Daniels than anyone else, really,” you confessed. “He saw a lot of things on the job that were hard. Too hard to explain. Possibly too hard to even work through. It made him…distant, when I was a kid. I don’t think we really connected until I got older.”

And even now, your relationship with him was rocky at best, after he’d suggested you try to work it out with Michael. You and your father hadn’t truly spoken ever since.

You still gave Emily a look of encouragement.

“But, it seems like you and your dad have a better relationship than I did with mine at your age,” you said.

That fell between you both while Emily ruminated in it. She started adding gold strokes to her bowl alongside the blue in swirling patterns, and it was a really nice touch, you told her. She thanked you with a little smile.

“Did my dad tell you that he lost his partner on the job?” she asked.

You sighed. “Yes, he told me some. We didn’t go too deep into it.”

“Well, for a whole year, it was like we barely existed,” she said. “Mom tried to help him. I tried…but I guess he was a lot like your dad.”

Your lips pressed together. You were sad to hear that, but it did remind you of what Beau told you that day, when he took you horseback riding.

“Well, maybe not all. But like you, my ex-wife ain’t a fool,” Beau had said. “Let’s just say, it was justified.”

You now nodded in understanding as you hummed. Let’s just say.

“He seems better now,” you remarked. 

“Yeah. He cleaned up when Mom left him,” Emily said. “I guess that’s what it took to snap him out of it.”

You shook your head, and you kept painting.  

You could understand Carla, all too well. It just hurt you, now that you knew what a good man Beau was. Your sympathetic heart said he didn’t deserve to get left behind when he needed his family the most.

However, the more logical part of you knew that sometimes, love just wasn’t enough to keep you tied to someone who didn’t seem to want to help themselves. When it felt like they were giving you no choice.

“Anyway, you’ll be my other guest, right?” Emily asked with a smile. “For the podcast.”

You barely resisted the urge to groan. As much as you preferred not to put yourself out there, you didn’t want to discourage the girl in her project.

“Well…okay. If you get your dad on, I’m sure it’ll be interesting,” you said, your lips forming a grin. You two continued to paint while chatting about Emily’s favorite subjects in school. English, sadly, was not one of them, but you weren’t offended by it. Shakespeare wasn’t for everyone.

“I’m actually meeting your dad for drinks tonight. If you want, I’ll ask him about being on the podcast, try to soften him up for you,” you offered. “Though I’m sure he’ll do it if you asked.”

Emily considered you with a bit more scrutiny. “Are you…seeing my dad?”

“Oh, no,” you said immediately. Just the suggestion had your cheeks warming. “Cassie and Jenny will be there too. It’s nothing like that.”

“Sure,” Emily said. She gave an awkward laugh. 

“Really, Em. He and I are just friends,” you promised. 

Even if that thought stung a little.

Despite what you told Emily, you did put a fair amount of effort into your appearance to meet your new friends that night for drinks.

You even put on your favorite red lipstick with some dark wash jeans, a black pair of ankle boots, and a black lace top to match, complete with off-the-shoulder sleeves. 

Cassie whistled lowly when she saw you walk into the bar from her seat in one of the booths. She smiled and nudged Beau, whose face slackened when he saw you. 

God help him, you were sexy as hell in black. 

Black lace, he corrected himself. Your hair was a bit wild and teased out. The flash of red was a pleasant surprise, momentarily drawing his eyes to your lips. He felt the back of his neck heat up, but he tried to hide it all behind a friendly smile. He found himself sliding out of the booth to hug you in greeting. 

Goddamn, she smells good too, he thought. Was that your perfume, or your shampoo? Whatever it was, he liked it more than was good for him.

He managed to let you go though, and he grinned at your somewhat shy smile. You moved on to greet Cassie next, then Jenny, before you slid into the booth next to her and across from Beau and Cassie. 

“How was Chicago?” Jenny asked. It brought the mood down some. You gave a true smile, however tinged with melancholy. It was still very difficult to talk about Mary, but since everyone at the table knew the full story, it was easier to be honest.

“Chicago was needed. It was good, in a way. I got to lay her to rest,” you replied. “But I’m glad to be back.”

“Glad to have you back,” Cassie said. She passed you a tequila shot. 

“Ooh, nice.” You weren’t usually one for hard liquor, but tonight, you thought you could let yourself go a little. You downed the shot in one. 

“Eyy, good job,” Beau said, raising his whiskey with a wink. You laughed in slight embarrassment and wiped the corner of your mouth.

While Cassie called over the closest server to get them started with some appetizers for the table, you turned to Beau.

“You know, I did a painting class with Emily today,” you told him. “She did great! Has a nice little bowl to put her jewelry in.”

He raised his brows, smiling. “Is that so? What do you know. My little girl’s a budding artist. Is she gonna go all broody and steal even more of my vinyl?”

You shook your head in amusement.

“She’s a teenager. They don’t need any excuses to be broody,” Jenny remarked.

“Fair enough,” Beau chuckled.  

“Actually, she asked me to be on her podcast,” you said. “She wanted to see if you’d join in for a segment.”

The man looked uncertain at that. You understood his reservations, because you had the same ones. Cassie and Jenny looked amused by the idea of him getting recorded and put on social media by his sixteen-year-old.

“Look, I know, but she just wants to ask us a few questions,” you said. “Like who should pay on a date, that sort of thing.”

Beau rested his elbows on the table and folded his hands. The humor in his green eyes shone under the soft gold lamplight.

“Well, that’s easy. I was raised to be a gentleman,” he said. “I wouldn’t feel right letting a woman pay for me.”

You tilted your head in interest. A smile started to play on your lips as you leaned forward on your folded arms.

“Huh. Well, I think whoever asks the person out should pay,” you posed. “That doesn’t necessarily mean the man pays every time.”

Beau’s lips twitched, but there was a subtle shake of his head.

“I don’t know. That just doesn’t sit right with me for some reason,” he said. 

You turned to Jenny and Cassie for some support, and they both gave Beau an unimpressed look.

“You mean to tell me you wouldn’t let me pay for my own drinks?” you asked. “I have a job. I make money, same as you.”

At that, Beau chuckled. “Hey now, I didn’t say you couldn’t pay for your own. But you’re certainly not paying for mine.”

“So in your world, I can’t ever treat my man if I want to?” you challenged.

“What, you mean to tell me you don’t like getting spoiled?” Beau countered.

When you smiled, it had an amused, almost flirtatious edge that began to make him hot under the collar. 

“Occasionally, sure I do,” you replied. “But then again, who doesn’t like getting spoiled now and again?”

“Doesn’t have to be about who pays either,” Cassie interjected. 

“It sure doesn’t,” Jenny agreed. The women laughed and clinked their drinks together, leaving Beau with a warming face under his beard. He once again chuckled, conceding defeat. 

Conversation spiraled from there, in which Jenny mentioned something about her and Beau’s latest finished case about Brett, a skydiving, former firefighter’s murder.

It was a coverup for a larger scheme within his old firehouse—where firefighters had been looting homes after they’d been cleared out of a fire. Brett’s friend had been killed on one of those jobs, and not by accident either.

“That’s awful,” you said with a frown, once she finished explaining.

Against your will, it made you think of your ex-fiancé, Michael. He was still an active firefighter. While he had been a shitty boyfriend, at the very least you’d never had reason to question his integrity as a first responder.

“Yeah, it was hard on the father too. He’s the unit chief, and the whole operation was happening on his watch,” Beau said. “One of his own firefighters killed his son. It’s damn near unthinkable.”

Beau’s mood had shifted the moment Jenny brought up this case, you noticed. He was staring mostly into his half-empty whiskey glass, as if contemplating a refill.

“We said we wouldn’t talk shop tonight,” Cassie said. She seemed to notice his downshift as well. She got up out of her seat in the booth. “Let me get the next round. Another tequila?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. You’d probably pace yourself this time.  

“Not for me, I’m good with this,” Beau said. 

He held that whiskey between his hands, and you were glad that he was going slow. Your conversation with Emily about his own bout with grief and loss was still fresh in your mind. While your heart broke for him, you were also a little worried for him. Had this latest case opened up some old wounds?

“I’ll go with you,” Jenny said. You slid out of the booth so Jenny could as well. It left you and Beau to talk, while Jenny and Cassie went up to the bar together.

Cassie tried to get the bartender’s attention, but she glanced at her friend out of the corner of her eye.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Fine. Why?” Jenny replied. But she wasn’t meeting Cassie’s gaze. She was watching you and Beau, almost in melancholy.

Cassie’s brows furrowed as she realized what was happening. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before, considering both of their professions. 

“Aw, Jenny…” Cassie breathed. She wondered just how long her friend had been harboring some feelings for Beau Arlen.

Knowing she was “caught,” Jenny gave a wry smile.

“Don’t. It’s not a big deal,” she said quietly. “He likes her.”

Cassie sighed. “I think so. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

“He deserves something good,” Jenny said. Her smile was a bit more genuine this time. Cassie nodded in agreement.

“So does she, after what she’s gone through.”

“So how are you doing?” you asked Beau. It was the first time you’d been alone with this man since that horse riding lesson last week, and part of you was feeling a bit nervous.

Just friends, like you told Emily. You had to remind yourself. Just friends…until evidence points to the contrary.

At your question, Beau heaved a sigh, running a hand over his face. Suddenly he looked more tired than he did before. The laugh lines around his eyes looked more like the telltale signs of stress.

“Well, first off, we found the missing backpacker,” he said. “It seems the poor young man fell down a cliff while hiking.”

Your brows furrowed and you covered your mouth with a hand. “Oh my God.”

Beau nodded in grim confirmation. His gaze met yours.

“But I also wanted to tell you this in person when you got back. I’ve also got a silver lining on our mountain man, Walter,” he continued. “He confessed to murdering Paige. He’s keeping tight-lipped about Mary and Luke, but we’ve got him dead set to rights on at least one of the murders.”

You processed that with a shaky breath. Then you nodded.

“We’re gonna keep working on him from every angle, I promise,” Beau said. Just like he’d promised you before—that he would get justice for Mary. You believed him.

“Thank you,” you said. Your gaze softened, and you contemplated laying your hand over his on the table. You just barely stopped yourself.

Instead, you cleared your throat and swiped some of your hair over your shoulder.

“Any other news, hot off the press?” you joked, trying to alleviate the heaviness in your heart. Beau quirked a smile. He leaned back in his seat and carded a hand through his hair.

“Ahh. Well…you know I’m investing my ex-wife’s husband,” he said drolly, sipping his whiskey. “And that’s going about as well as it sounds. I can’t get into the details of course…but he might be dealing in something shady.”

Your eyes widened. “Shady, or dangerous?”

Beau realized how he’d let that last bit slip out. He wished he hadn’t. Not only did he not want to worry you, but he didn’t want you anywhere near his open cases.

“I’m keeping close tabs on Carla and Emily just to be safe,” he admitted. 

Your face became the picture of concern. But before you could respond, a man approached the table, tall and lean, with a shaggy cut of dark blonde hair. He wore a pair of faded jeans, boots, and a gray and red Chicago FD shirt. 

Your face paled, and your mouth parted in surprise. 

“Hey there, stranger,” he said with a smile. 

“Michael?” you gasped.

AN: 🫣 Yep, we're going there lol. But how did you like the horseback riding lesson? Or her little day out with Emily? Or the bit of fun at the bar, before Michael showed up?

You'll definitely be seeing more of that guy in Part 5...

Next Time:

“Michael?” you gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Beau’s eyes widened. Michael was younger than him, closer to your age. And cocky too.  

“Hey, baby,” Michael said. His smile quirked with charm, but his next words were anything but charming. 

“We need to talk,” he said, raising his brows.

“We actually don’t,” you retorted in a firmer voice. Cold even. You straightened in your seat. 

Beau saw none of your softness and good humor from earlier. This was a different woman, and he was actually proud of you for standing your ground. Though he realized then that he’d never gotten on your bad side. (He hoped he never did.)

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 5

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[rarepairdumpster]

Silco Jailed AU Part 1

Pairing: Viktor/Silco (Arcane) Rating: M C/W: Canon Divergence, First Meeting, Distrust, Politics, Viktor watches trials to pick up men (A/N: This one plays fast and loose with canon but we trust yall to roll with it lol)

Silco turns himself in to protect Jinx and has a unfair trial, where all none of the context of his actions are taken into account, and he's sentenced to public execution as an assurance to the Piltovans and a lesson for the Zaunites.

Heimerdinger expresses a worry of creating a martyr, but he's overruled.

Jinx didn't blow up the council so Viktor, who watched the trial, just like he did Jayce's ends up sneaking down to where they're keeping Silco the night before his execution since Stillwater is too far away for sending a message like this.

When Viktor gets there, he sees what the guards have done to him.

How his hair has been shorn with such violence that he's bleeding from several places.

His fine clothes have been forcibly swapped for filth-stained rags.

Hints of bruises are visible through the tears in the fabric.

Yet somehow, despite the effort to rob him of his dignity, Silco manages to sit with his chin held high. There's a stubborn, angry pride in every line of his frame.

Because in the end, he is giving his life for his people, just like he always knew he would. It was just a matter of when and how. 

When he sees Viktor, Silco's mouth twists with a sneer.

Because he knows who this is.

The Zaunite that lined Piltover's pockets, who helped them leave Zaun further and further behind. The Zaunite that provided the tech to build the hammer that murdered Renni's son, and the gauntlets that almost oblitered the security guards.

The traitor.

"Silco," Viktor says, straightening himself up as much as he can with his crutch. "I am sorry that we never got the chance to meet until now."

"Me too." Silco tips his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He can't stomach looking at this traitor. But his voice is cold as ice. "I would have gutted you a long time ago."

"Perhaps," Viktor hums. "I presume you think I'm some sort of...oh what do you call it..."

"Bootlicker?" Silco gladly provides.

"Ah, yes," Viktor chuckles a little. "I can assure you though, my true loyalties lie far from reigning authority."

"Your assurances mean nothing." Silco does look at him then. Sharp. Full of rage. His blue eye is almost more terrifying than his red one. Just for a moment. "Your actions speak louder than words ever could."

Viktor holds up the keys to the cell. "Allow me to free you, and we can discuss some actions I've been wanting to take for a long time."

"Do you think I'm here by accident, boy?" Silco let's out a scoffing laugh and goes back to rest his head against the wall. "Every choice I make is calculated. If its atonement you seek.....destroy the hexgates. Burn the lab to the ground. The weapons. The plans. The materials. Make them feel its loss."

"Do you really think I can do that on my own?" Viktor asked, stepping closer to the bars, making sure his crutch made a sharp sound on the stone. 

"Do you think I enjoy having to bend to the council's every selfish whim? My research and work has been twisted and molded to everything they want." He grabs one of the bars with his hand that held his crutch. 

"Martyrdom is for those who have nothing left to contribute to the cause. If you truly want to see it burn as much as I do, then help me."

"What would you know of martyrdom, of the cause," Silco says coldly. "You were never part of it. You were never my brother. You fled the undercity as soon as something better came along. Chose to work for them. Knowing what they did. What they always do."

"Ah, so we've made it abundantly clear that we know nothing about each other," Viktor sneered. "If you don't want to help me, fine."

He turns away and sighs. "Dr. Reveck will likely make better use of my blueprints anyway."

'Blueprints' makes Silco straighten.

"Don't be a fool. Reveck has no interest in helping the undercity; he would turn on us all for his own ends."

Viktor notices the change in Silco's tone. He has to tread carefully. He allows himself a little smirk before turning back to Silco. 

"I'm afraid I don't have any other options," Viktor reminds him.

Silco's lips thin.

He knows he's been played.

"You're more cunning than I thought." 

"I know," Viktor answers, confident now that Silco is willing to listen. "You're not the only person who calculates. Did you think it was an accident that lead to me solving the question of hextech? That I was involved? No! Talis was going to kill himself. His work was going to be destroyed. I intervened. I saved the work. I solved the equations that he fumbled. Because I knew what it could do for our people. For Zaun!"

Viktor's face twists then.

"My only failing was believing in the goodness of Jayce Talis. But he proved me a fool."

Silco looks away.

"You should have known better than to trust a topsider. One from a house at that," Silco huffs, but his eyes soften slightly. He certainly understood putting trust in the wrong person.

"He was charismatic, hopeful." Viktor bows his head, rests his forehead against the bars. He sighs, tired.  His whole body hurts, a constant stabbing pain through spine and pelvis and leg. "He was full of idealism that I harbored myself. I failed to consider the larger house that held his leash. Failed to consider his compulsive need for praise, to...to please."

Silco huffs out of amusement. He definitely understood failing to account for that. 

"Fine, then," Silco finally says. "I assume you have a plan to get me out of here?"

"I can get us into Zaun," Viktor explains. "But I assume you still have contacts there."

Part 2

Arch + Woods

[yvainetres]

Scars

Ninjago Headcanon

Description: Ranked list of who I believe has the most to least scars in the Ninjago crew. (Early seasons) Plus how easily they scar. Bonus Sal (My OC) at the end.

List from most to least.

Jay - This boy definitely has the most scars when he joined the team. With the amount of machinery and tinkering he does, there is no doubt he has burnt, cut, and bruised every bit of his body at some point. Maybe not the biggest scars but the most, and he scars easily. Like ink on paper. He's practically littered in tiny/medium scars with one or two major scars after being with the ninja for a while. I also believe he loses physical awareness when he's focused, causing more injuries which causes more scars. The only thing that doesn't scar him is electricity, thank goodness. Otherwise, he'd probably be dead.

Kai - He worked in a blacksmith with sharp tools since he was a child. Considering the fact he has no self-preservation and he refused to let anyone help him (Nya especially), his body is practically a canvas of scars. A mix of small and medium ones. His skin scars pretty easily, which doesn't help, his hands in particular being the main victim to his normal injuries. The only reason he has less than Jay is he can't get burnt. Removing 50% of the scars he would have.

Coles - About the midrange of the team, Cole has a few scars, but due to being the Master of Earth, he has tough skin. Therefore, he doesn't scar easily, but when he does, he SCARS. Like scar scars. Massive scars that make a person question what animal he had to wrestle to get them kind of scars. Truthfully, none. He did mountain climbing for fun and has learnt many lessons from those scars.

Nya - The only reason she doesn't have many scars when joining the ninja is because her overprotective brother made sure she didn't get the chance to gain scars. And if she did get one, he had a herbal paste he used to prevent it from leaving anything visible (why he never used it on himself Nya doesn't know). However, when she joined the ninja, she started gaining a few. Kai too distracted to take care of them now. Still, she doesn't have many even though she scars easily, (not as easily as Kai).

Zane - Zane's a tough one because well... he's a robot. His synthetic skin does scar, but it doesn't heal the same way as a human, and it definitely takes a LOT to even break the skin. In order to repair it, he has to replace it or coat it with a special metal like paste. Something he didn't know about when he thought he was human, luckily his skin was pretty much perfect with maybe one or two cuts that just didn't disappear. Not until they discovered the paste. Zane hates having to replace sulynthetic skin, which is only done if damaged beyond repair (he's only needed to once). The fake skin is hard to find and leaves patches unless his entire skin is replaced. Something he has never done and luckily never has to do once he gains his titanium body. Overall, his body doesn't really scar thanks to its metallic qualities.

Lloyd - I wholeheartedly believe Lloyd can't scar. Like at all. And believe me, he's tried. With the mix of Oni and Dragon blood flooding through his veins no matter how injured he gets, there will be no trace of it once it heals. His skin is completely flawless.

Bonus:

Sal - When she joined the crew, she was in between Cole and Nya. She doesn't scar easily, and when she was on her own, she was very on top of preventing scaring. However, the moment she joined the ninja, that care was focused on their health rather than her own. Eventually, after a few major events, her level of scaring became roughly in between Cole and Kai.

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

Love your writing and requesting a fic that is literally Gray and Lyra shopping for limes. And Lyra making Gray go speechless (bonus points if Gigi tags along)

ofc!! (im so sorry this took so long I’ve had 0 motivation lately im sorry 😢😢)

Grocery Store Confessions - a grayson x lyra fic

——————————————

Lyra picked up the bar of dark chocolate before placing it down in her cart as she followed Grayson and Gigi towards the snack section. Gigi had her car privileges taken away after she rammed it into a tree, and was now getting driving lessons from Grayson. Since she doesn’t have a car, as it’s in the shop, she asked if Grayson would drive her to the store. And as her older brother, Grayson had obliged. And of course Lyra was tagging along, because that was her new job as Grayson’s girlfriend. Gigi bounced towards the candy section of the aisle, before grabbing 5 bags of gummy’s and treats.

“I don’t know how you eat that much candy. It’s too sweet.” Grayson said, giving all the candy in her arms a look. Gigi just rolled her eyes before turning to Lyra with a grin.

“Lyra, do you want some candy? It will pair extremely well with your…” She trailed off as she glanced at the dark chocolate bar in the cart with a sour look. “Bitter chocolate.” Now its was Lyra’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Dark chocolate is supposed to be bitter. That’s why it tastes so good.” Lyra said with a half shrug. Gigi just stuck her tongue out, before speeding towards whatever other aisle had caught her attention.

Lyra turned before grabbing a bag of chips off the shelves, bending over to pick it up, and just as she did, she heard whispers from not too far away. Just outside of the aisle, she saw a group of teenagers boys close to her age whispering and stealing glances at her behind. As soon as their gazes met Lyra’s glare though, they started hollering and laughing before taking off. Lyra just scoffed before harshly grabbing the chips and straightening up again. Just as she did, she felt a hand on her waist. As soon as she looked down she recognized it. Grayson’s. His arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer to him. Lyra smiled before looking up at him, and seeing a dark look on his face as he watched the boys jackrabbit towards the exit. Her smile only grew. Possessive, much.

“Maybe those boys were working up the courage to ask me for my number and you scared them off.” She said, her brow raising at him. His eyes met hers and a flash of surprise crossed his features. Alright, it’s clear that those weird boys were just looking for a girl to catcall, but teasing Grayson was hilarious.

“And what would you say?” He asked her, matching her brow raise with his own. Lyra took his hand off her waist and held both of them in hers as she took a step back, thinking.

“Oh, this guy?” Lyra said in a girly voice, angling her head to Grayson. “He’s just my lawyer. I’d be happy to take your number, hehe.” She twirled her hair dramatically, and a smile that only Lyra got to see touched his lips as he pulled her by her waist closer to him.

“Sure, sweetheart.” He said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck. Lyra glowed from the touch, and just as she was about to say something else, Gigi popped out from another aisle.

“Guys!!” She said, hollering for no apparent reason. The two turned to her with a confused look on their faces. “I forgot we need to actually get grocery’s. Mom gave me a list.” Gigi pulled out a sheet of paper from her pocket. Grayson sighed, but Lyra just smiled before speaking.

“Alright, Gigi.”

The three of them were almost done the short grocery list Acacia had given them, but there was just one thing left: limes. Gigi went to pick up a bunch, before turning to Grayson with a grin.

“Remember these?” She said, her voice teasing. Grayson tensed suddenly, and Lyra got the feeling that he was hiding something.

“No.” He said. But just a bit too quickly, Lyra thought with an internal smirk. Lyra was wearing an innocent smile as she turned to Grayson.

“Why would you remember them?” She asked, her tone completely innocent as she gazed up at him. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear before speaking.

“I don’t, and I have no reason to.” He told her softly. Then his expression changed into a glare as his gaze averted to Gigi. “Gigi’s just making things up for entertainment.” Gigi shrugged before speaking, a sly smile on her face.

“Sure I aaammmm.” She sang, stretching out the words as she grabbed the cart and limes from Grayson and took off towards the cash register. Lyra raised her brow at him, but Grayson just took her hand and walked after Gigi, grumbling “I said I was paying” as he did.

Once they were all in the car, with Grayson driving, Lyra in the passenger seat, and Gigi in the back, Gigi spoke up.

“Lyra, do you want to know the story behind the limes?” She asked with a mischievous grin.

“No, she doesn’t.” He said, his tone meant to end the conversation. Gigi, however, didn’t get the hint or just didn’t care.

“It was 3 years ago, before the first Grandest Game was created, and before I knew we were siblings. Him and I were at the store and-“

“Enough, Juliet.” Grayson said, cutting her off. Lyra turned to him, and was surprised to see the slightest blush on her face. Lyra had made him blush once before, but seeing it now still made her jaw want to drop. It was an unusual look for him.

“No, Gigi,” Lyra said, her tone teasing. Grayson glanced at her, surprise clear on his face. “Keep going.” Gigi obliged.

“So we were at the store, and I was confused on why he had a sudden interest with what happened to my father. And me, being the only one who didn’t know Grayson was our brother, decided to come to the horrifying conclusion that he and Savannah were-“ She stopped suddenly, but Lyra still shuddered as she realized what Gigi was getting at. “Snorking.” Gigi finished lamely. Lyra raised a brow at that, as nobody before had ever referred to two people dating as “snorking”, but Gigi was already moving on.

“Anyway. To prove that they didn’t, in fact, date in the past, he went on this whole tangent…” Gigi paused dramatically, grinning as she leaned forward in her seat to peer at Grayson. “About his girlfriend.” The blush on his cheeks grew a tiny bit redder, but Grayson kept his eyes on the road.

“So what?” He gritted out. Lyra was confused why he was embarrassed, and also confused on why he never told her about this girlfriend. Maybe it was an ex talking stage, or maybe he still had something going on with Eve, or maybe…

When Lyra realized what Gigi was getting at, she couldn’t hold a snort back as she bursted out laughing.

“You had to make up a fake girlfriend so Gigi didn’t think you were dating your sister?! Oh my god!” Lyra teased Grayson often, but this was beyond teasing. Right now, she was doubled over laughing, twisting around in her seat so she can breathe.

“Lyra!” He exclaims. Lyra wiped her tears, a smile still on her face, as she glanced at Grayson’s betrayed expression. That only made her laugh more.

“Okay, okay!” Lyra choked out, finally done laughing, “What was this fake girlfriend like?” Gigi grinned.

“Unexpected, smart,” Gigi stated, clearly trying to imitate Grayson’s deep voice. “Not perfect, and when I’m with her, I don’t have to be either. More stuff, but I honestly forget.” Lyra turned to Grayson.

“How poetic.” She says, biting her lip to keep her laugh in. Grayson just hums in response as he glances at her, his eyes softening as he takes in her happy expression, even if it came at his expense.

“I can be.” He says. Then, he glanced at her again, before imitating a hurt face. “But not anymore, because you made fun of me.” Lyra faked a pout, before leaning over the best she could with a seat belt, taking his face in her hands, and kissing his lips. It was a quick peck, but Lyra still felt electricity run through her body all the same.

“You’ll be fine.” Lyra says with a smile as she sits back in her seat.

“Ugh, I am never going in a car with you guys again!” Gigi exclaimed from the backseat, while making gagging noises. Lyra just rolled her eyes in response, meeting Grayson’s eyes and seeing a look in them that made her heart skip.

Love.

——————————————————————————

why do i feel like gigi + jameson bitch and moan when lyra and grayson kiss?? like i feel like they’d make such a big deal about it as a joke LMFAOOO

also i hope u like it!! :))

[voidcat]

— [ 01:36 ] (but if you’re too drunk to drive, and the music is right…)

characters: narumi gen, you, first division (loosely mentioned)

a/n: mentions of drinking and alcohol. can be read as part of the hedgehog's dilemma series bc ngl i kinda wrote it with that in mind. i hate you mari please let my soul be free and take your rabid little brother away from me. sorry for being such good in-law material ig — 1.5k

inspired by mari's bullying comment: "but have u considered the way he looks at u when he's slightly tipsy?"

The dim lights of the bar fall gently on the eyes- something you're more than grateful for.

It's not often the teams go out together after work; let alone even just one section within a division but you'd like to hope the changes within the first division has become somewhat of a routine by now.

The place is warm enough to be of comfort but cold enough to ensure nobody falls victim to alcohol and the sleep it lulls you into. As hours have passed since your arrival, the lively chatter has spread within the space, several booths occupied, everyone divided into similar groups of those they get along well more, or those they wish to converse with. It is calmer now, with the weight of work place regulations and titles gone, just the comfort of a bunch of people, spending their night, taking some stress out in the form of sweet drinks and sour tastes, vibrant colors and heavenly smelling fries, games played with one too many rules broken and words slurred, bodies slowly losing their functions.

You spot Shinonome easily with your eyes, away by the corner, bent by the pool table and holding the cue stick like she came up with the game herself.

A pity, you think to yourself. She was so excited for tonight, especially picked the night and asked to get ready with you, even asking your opinion on her outfit and what accessories she could tweak and add or not. Instead, now hogged with the rest of them, she's teaching them a lesson they'll never forget, ignoring Tachibana's swaying walks and poor attempts to hold his ground.

Still, you think, despite the errors and trials of the evening, you're content by yourself so far. Your seating is near the bar, lest you wish for another cocktail, the volume of the music just right, a soothing and gentle melody carrying you away, reminding you of old days.

A sudden movement by your side startles you just as you bring the glass to your lips. And you notice much to your dismay that what you've assumed to be a pile of several coats and bags is certainly too human-shaped to be that.

From the slouched-over form, rises Narumi Gen, wobbling and swaying in his spot.

Rolling your eyes and breathing through your nose, you still take your sip, bigger than you were planning, and think to yourself that your proximity to the bartender will surely prove itself to be useful.

"H-hey!" Narumi says with a coarse voice, a hiccup mixed in the small word somewhere, sounds like a sore throat, or just dry.

"Fancy seein' you 'ere." He tries again, words still a struggle for him to get out and you try to recall how many drinks he had to end up such a babbling mess already.

"Congrats on your discovery of shapeshift, captain." you say and turn ahead again, a finger grazing over the rim of your glass.

He doesn't seem to pick up on your words and gives you a confused gaze, head tilted to the side so much, he almost falls, a sudden arm shooting up to the table to balance himself, not noticing your vacant hand moving to his direction in case he fell as well.

You take your arm back before he can notice.

In thought, you grab your glass and down the rest of its content in one go, looking at the bartender to notice and making a gesture his way.

The taste of zesty orange still rich on your tongue, you lick your lips, thinking. For some reason, you always overthink when it comes to him.

You doubt the count is much since he doesn't look all too bad. And you are aware, even when these after-work hangouts were barely a thing, he still rarely went out- and his joining rate to them a zero already. From what you know of him, of his life before, it's unlikely he had experience with alcohol to begin with. When you put two and two together, it doesn't really come as a surprise to see him like this.

One part of you is still unsure if he's coming to these as out of some self crafted necessity- that he should be there as the captain if he's invited, or because he genuinely enjoys the company.

The lack of a portable game console or a phone implies the former, and the thought brings a smile to your lips.

Some rustling and movement from the peripheral of your eye and you can somewhat make out Narumi changing his posture, but heed him no mind.

In the midst of your running thoughts, someone comes to take your empty glass away and bring your order.

Two glasses of sparkly, bright orange, a dark and thin straw inside, and you sigh, Narumi's hands working faster than your own, pulling one before himself.

Happily taking a drag of the drink, only to grimace at the sudden taste of alcohol, he coughs a little and you lightly pat him on the back, "there, there" you offer in half concern, half out of habit.

Yellow lights dancing among the corners of the place, it gives the impression of a space hidden and old- nostalgic, in a way. But then again so does the decor, a get-away of sorts.

Typical stools and cushions one could run into pubs back in the day, the never ending sounds of a faint coffee machine working there, clanks of knives from the kitchen here– a haven that is lived and loved. A chance for normalcy, even just for few hours.

Here, you can pretend everything is the same. In the comfort of old posters and within the reflections dirty, rusty bathroom mirrors; you can pretend you are still just a regular person. No life altering events, no losses.

No grief and no prove of lost love to begin with. Here, now, you can pretend you're still young and have someone waiting for you to return home before the sky darkens. Right now, you can let your eyes roam the sticky floors for a cat that looks well too fed to be a stray, fur soft and glinting, a hint of michief in its eyes.

"So~ come here often?" the slurred voice speaks from your side again, earning a 'pfff' from you at the cheap pick-up line.

When you turn to face him, you don't expect to see Narumi half lying on the table. Head resting snug against his palm, a stupid smile on his face– boyish, is best you can muster to decribe.

Rosy cheeks and half dropped lids, and the smile of a young boy still innocent, lost and ready to take on the world if he must looking at you with glee– like you're the most interesting thing he has seen tonight, or in his entire life- the pub the entire world, and you at its center.

This new change to him catches you off-guard. You were ready for anything. Be it a drunken mess, an overly clingy tipsy mess, a little all over the place yet a ted steady despite sleep pouring out of his eyes like the last time.

Nothing, you think, could've possibly prepared you for pink eyes glowing under the dim lights with specs of gold trapped inside the orbs– a smile so genuine, so vulnerable dancing on his lips and his free hand playing with the hem of your sleeve. Dusty pink cheeks that match his eyes and the expression of a fool you fear you might never see in your life again, Narumi Gen stares into your eyes as if there's nothing else in this room right now.

You can feel your mouth open and close with nothing to come out- muscle memory carrying you until so far.

This is bad, your brain signals you, running at a speed too fast for you to catch on- a loss of words, no idea what to do and dreading the very possibility of just sitting frozen there in silence like a deer in headlights.

Seeing movement on your part however, Narumi tries leaning in closer, moving with his folded arm and head still rested against his palm, almost knocking his- now empty, glass off in the process.

The slight tilt of the glass and its clink against the table brings you back to your senses. Hands shooting up towards his direction- to the glass and nowhere else obviously, or so you try and reason, you stall for a second with your hands still in the air.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you give him a gentle squeeze, gaze softening at his reaction– heat rushing to his face, the smile morphing into a small expression of surprise,

Your voice comes out in a soft whisper he is certain he never heard of before: "Come now big guy, let's get you home." you say it like this has always been an usual occurance– and for a blink of a second, he sees the outlines of a stranger he just met.

[misc-obeyme]

Lesson 37 spoilers below - it's screenshot heavy again because OH BOY we had a lot going on this time too. I took almost 100 screenshots lol. But don't worry, I narrowed it down... uh but there are still a lot so I apologize for that.

I do believe I said in my last post that if they were going to go full Dante, they would bury Lucifer in ice.

I only said that because I WAS NOT EXPECTING THEM TO GO FULL DANTE.

Now listen, it's been a long time since I've read the Divine Comedy, so there may be a lot more references that I am missing. I can tell you that the four circles or sections or whatever that Simeon named for us are from Dante. That right there is straight from Dante's Inferno, along with their names and who they're supposed to punish. I don't really feel like any of this has much relevance except that they used it as a backdrop and to create reasons for us to lose most of the people who came to help us as we went.

And truly the lore was fascinating in general, but there are a couple of specific pieces about this that made me go EXCUSE YOU.

It's the Celestial Realm again, guys. Cocytus is part of their domain. And the last area is for those who betrayed "him" as they so eloquently put it lol. Both Mammon and Lucifer are considered traitors in this regard, but I kind of suspect that if the rest of the bros made it to that level, they would've had a similar experience.

Anyway, I was pissed. I was like Diavolo in the hard lesson.

Right, so let's talk Mephistopheles. I'm not familiar enough with the legend of Faust or its variations to know if the way they described his special power is based on that. However, I highly suspect it is at least somewhat inspired by it. Considering making a deal with the devil is what that story is all about.

But aside from all that - I LOVE HIM OH NO.

WHAT. This guy... all this time I thought he was really stuck up. And like I kinda get it, considering how he was supposed to be Diavolo's right hand man and everything. But he's straight up saying that he underestimated them. He seems to have no problem saying yeah, turns out I was wrong and you guys impressed me. So don't go around giving up now. AND he says they learned it from Lucifer? Like... he gets them. He understands them. And I was not expecting that at all. He keeps surprising me and I'm loving it.

Welcome to my life, Mephi.

It's pointless to resist.

I'm telling you, this is just how it always goes.

BUT OH! I'm not gonna lie, this made me feel something. All the brothers usually say such nice things to me, but this guy is basically like ARE YOU STUPID? And I love it?!?!? Augh I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance before, sir.

Okay, now let's talk Solomon being the hot old grandpa that he is. I SWEAR every time he shows up lately it's been making me more insane about him.

WE SUMMONED HIM. We needed him in Cocytus and he wasn't there, so we straight up SUMMONED HIM. We couldn't do it without Mammon giving us his power 'cause our magic is weak, but STILL!?!?

I think Simeon referred to it as teleporting, but really it was the same as summoning him. I think the words were even the summoning spell words.

If this was actually me we were talking about, I would start doing it ALL THE TIME. Consider yourself on call, old man.

And then we got this excellent exchange:

Not only am I always here for big bro Mammon getting protective, but Solomon bringing it right back was also great.

Okay, now let's talk about Raphael and Simeon.

Do you think we're dealing with Michael disguised as Raphael again? For some reason I don't think so, but... at this point, it's like how do you tell? I'm going to talk about it with the assumption that it's actually Raphael and not Michael.

Simeon during this part gave me chills. Because when Raphael showed up and spoke the punishment or whatever and Luke was about to protest, Simeon silenced him. Simeon wouldn't let Luke protest because he knew that wouldn't be good for our baby boy. Simeon was prepared to take the fall instead. And he wasn't about to just let things stand.

I can't accept it. I swear, Simeon's character is far more complex than anyone gives him credit for. He doesn't get anywhere near the amount of appreciation he deserves. I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT IT.

Right, but back to Raphael.

Baby. He's crying. He was just delivering the ultimatum, the decision about the brothers' punishment, and he was crying. I was so surprised, it was so soft and sad and I wanted to hug him. And look at Simeon's frown. AND THEN

EVEN LUCIFER. This man is chained up in some ice and he still sees how Raphael is struggling and feels sorry for him. (Like maybe he's been there before himself...)

This is why I think it really is Raphael. Because this feels like such a significant revelation of his character, I think it'd be a disservice to him if we found out later it wasn't him at all. So I'm hoping it's still him.

Now. Let's talk about Diavolo. I'm pretty sure this was in the hard lesson, so be aware of that!

He is so pissed. I don't think I've ever seen Diavolo quite like this. Worried, sometimes serious, but angry? Like to the point where he thinks he might lose control? I don't think that's happened, has it?

AND BARB. His reaction is so interesting! At first he has this look of surprise, but then LOOK AT THAT SMILE. Here's Dia being like, I need you to stop me, but you can't tell me that smile on Barb's face belongs to anyone who's going to stop anyone. He looks like he's looking forward to it. I love him so much it's stupid. (Also I think Barbatos is just as much of a menace as Solomon is, he's just better at hiding it. Where do you think Sol gets it from??)

And of course the lesson ended with Lucifer BREAKING THROUGH HIS CHAINS. Ugh another cliffhanger.

In general, I really loved the brotherly affection that was running amok in this chapter. They were annoying each other and protecting each other and sacrificing for each other and it was all amazing. They banded together because they care so much about Lucifer, there's no way they would leave him to his fate.

And once again, the Celestial Realm is to blame. I think it makes sense that they're doing this. Before, they said that the seven brothers assuming positions of power in the Devildom meant that the power balance between the Devildom and the Celestial Realm was out of whack. That's why they wanted the brothers back. But the brothers wouldn't come back.

And while the Celestial Realm threatened war, they didn't do that, either.

Do you think perhaps the Celestial Realm collaborated with the House of Lords to get Lucifer trapped in Cocytus? The House of Lords controlled the train where everything went down. The Celestial Realm controls Cocytus. They probably knew that Lucifer's brothers would try to rescue him and counted on them getting trapped in the ice, too.

But perhaps they weren't expecting any interference from Mephisto or Simeon. They had to be expecting MC, I would think. Maybe they underestimated MC because they're human? And maybe they thought Diavolo would just accept it? (If so they are duuuuumb lol.)

Okay just a couple more screenshots because they made me laugh.

PLEASE. I love their dynamic SO MUCH.

Hmm. Is that a threat, Barb? 'Cause uh... you can casually threaten me with that slight smile any time I MEAN yeah, you tell 'em.

I cackled about what do you mean "ahaha" like I can't believe Levi actually said that out loud lol.

Cheer up, Belphie. Let Asmo live the otome dream, won't you?

Okay, okay, I'm done. Overall, I quite enjoyed this chapter, but I'm still sensing more drama, probably until the end of the season, honestly.

You think Nightbringer will make an appearance before it's over? It's almost like I forgot this whole new app was made to tell a story about him. He's just been mostly MIA. UNLESS someone else has been him in disguise all along...

Nope. No. I refuse to get into theorizing, this post is already too long.

[fancyfeathers]

To Fancy (srry it's my first time making a request)

We seen Ballerina, Librarian, nobility, chess 'nd some other readers, but what about an teacher? Depending on the region in the world, women began to be teachers from 1810 onwards, so would it be possible for us to have a female teacher? Of literature if possible And if so, which of the characters do you think this teacher would best match?

I think I wrote something about a teacher darling with William but I would say William, Louis, Mycroft, or Sebastian.

William is the obvious answer as he himself is a mathematics professor and while the chances are of his darling teaching children since there were not many women professors way back when the idea is still cute to me. He probably meets her when visiting the school on a consulting job to take care of the headmaster of the school under the guise of giving guest lectures and she happens to be the sweet English teacher who volunteered to let him use her classroom. Then when she looses her job when the school looses its headmaster and parents withdraw their students, he is the kind university professor who offers her to live with him and his brothers.

Louis would probably meet her while out at the market on her days off. Being the gentleman he is and also being head over heels for her at first sight he offers to help her carry her things back to her house, and when she invites him inside he sees all the little gifts her students have given her along with her students’ work and lesson plans stacked up on her desk. I feel like Louis could just picture a future with here right then and there, sitting with her in the drawing room having tea with her while she reads over her student’s assignments, but of course it is never destined to end like that.

Now Sebastian Moran is an odd choice but he has had a hard and rough life and to fall for someone who is gentle and kind is almost natural. He would just happen to run into her when she is making her way back home is while she is carrying a heavy stack of books, oh let him help, it’s no problem. It is the cinnamon roll and would kill you trope. It is just so rare for Moran to be so gentle with someone that he is just sort of putty in her hands. Also you know her students love asking him about if he is going to marry their teacher or ask him stories about how he got some of his scars cause children are little shits and curious as hell.

Then I really cannot explain Mycroft, it just feels right, like just picturing this terrifying man who is literally called the government being down bad for this little children’s teacher. Like chances are she does not even know who he is, he is probably a sponsor of his old primary school which is probably how he met her. Then he becomes a sponsor specifically for her class, literally anything she needs it is there the next day and she has no idea how it got there because she did not even say anything yet. Then also picturing Sherlock seeing his brother walking and smiling with this teacher who has nothing special about her would probably send his head for a spin, Mycroft in love? What happened? Did someone die?

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 34 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 2 | lesson 33 | lesson 35

i might be getting ahead of myself here, but are we lilith ?? like is that what's happening rn ??? he's not saying mc's name, and raphael doesn't day their name in the next scene...if so then that's actually really fucking sad 💀

it makes sense though, belphie not wanting mc to go into his head bc he's still clinging to the past and doesn't want to lose them forever like he lost his little sister forever, especially since human life is so finite compared to that of a demon or an angel or a reaper

also it's obvious by his choice of words that despite him looking older, belphie is very, very young in his mindscape, just like mammon was. i feel like this also shows how close mams and belphie are even if it's not shown much on screen in the game, or at least how much belphie takes after mammon's, if not all of his older brothers traits, for better or worse

well nvm...i still think my theory is valid though. belphie wants to go back to his old life and end up not losing lilith, but still have mc with him

i wonder how similar mammon and belphie's bond in the celestial realm is to their bond in the devildom. is belphie still as reluctant to ask for help and advice openly? is the banter still the same? are there less insults? how does the age gap here cause them to treat each other differently if at all? or the lack of angelic status?

oh i'm gonna cry

big brother mammon will always have my heart and i need more of him

we know belphie's love of stars and constellations and the night sky in general started when he was in the celestial realm, and seeing it manifest in mammon in his mindscape makes my heart happy, even if mammon isn't the reason he became interested in astronomy (was it michael? lucifer? idk i don't remember)

i also think it's very interesting how belphie's brain is actively working against him "wanting to hide from mc". he literally said "i don't want you to see the inside of my mind" and is hiding away from them. i think, in reality and in his mindscape, he's running from the fact that he has to face his feelings about the idea of mc leaving to go to the "human realm" and the possibility of losing them forever like he lost lilith

this was (obviously) not beel speaking, but his inner thoughts in the shape and voice of beel. circling back to belphie having the best and worst traits of his brothers, his insecurity and need for reassurance rivals levi's, and we don't get to see it as blatantly because he masks it way better than levi does

ok so we're here in the timeline...interesting. how much time passed between luci and dia's first meeting and the celestial war? how much time had passed between the celestial war and mc's initial arrival to the devildom? how much had belphie aged?

angels and demons age different than humans do, and belphie doesn't feel any older than like...10 or 11 at the most, but beel seems older than that. maybe its his mind warping things to make himself seem and feel younger, but maybe he really was that young. was lilith even born at this point? how old was belphie during the time of the war ?????

also i'm mad we didn't get to see michael bc i wanna know what he looks like but oh well 🧍🏾

oh baby :((((

i'm not the biggest belphie fan AT ALL, at least canon belphie, but i think it's necessary to acknowledge how his trauma severely affects the way he acts. he went from blaming himself, to blaming an entire race of people for his sister's death. he feels like he should've been the one to die, even if it meant leaving his twin without him

now, if he got a proper redemption arc after lesson 16, THEN we could talk. i think the devs fumbled his character in that regard, but my hcs about his redemption will have to suffice for now

he didn't want mc to see this dark part of himself because he hates that he still has this mindset, that he's trapped in a cycle of "what ifs" and wishing it were him instead of her, constantly ruminating and letting his anger and grief fester without ever dealing with it properly and letting himself heal. he not only thinks he doesn't deserve to heal, but that he doesn't deserve to live long enough to see himself heal, that he doesnt deserve to live at all

WHY ARE YOU BEING DIFFICULT????

i mean i knew this would happen since its only lesson 34 and there's still 6 more to go...but damn

i love and hate the fact that he's so smart. like, they could easily just ask barbatos to send them back to the human realm if it was that serious. he's clearly taken a liking to them. lucifer knows something's up, and he won't forge a pact with them until he gets to the bottom of whatever's going on

initially, i thought it was a spell to bring them back since he'd been the one facilitating the trips into the brothers' mindscapes this whole time, but this is wayyy more interesting

i feel like the barbatoses communicate across timelines, or that their lives intermingle with each others' somehow, so whatever they feel for one person in a specific timeline is felt for ever version of them in every timeline. we know barbatos, at the very least, knows that kayden is an important person in the grand scheme of things, whether it be because of the way diavolo feels about them or because they play a large part in the obey me version of a canon event

if it's more than base level importance, we can assume that there's a level of trust and love that barbatos feels for mc that stretches across time (callback to the login screen's dialogue)

maybe he gave us the piece of the grimoire for a reason outside of belphie's mindscape escapades. what if this is how we gain lucifer's trust? if a demon as powerful as barbatos can give mc a piece of his grimoire, then he should be able to make a pact with them, seeing as they're trustworthy enough to be in cahoots with THE time demon

anyways barbatos is nightbringer and you can't tell me otherwise. unless you think it's michael. then i might hear you out...i'm stuck between thinking either of them is the titular character simply because of the simultaneous lack and abundabce of emphasis on michael's importance